#that and just going through the tags can help you find people if you'd like to find some others

[capricornlevi]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

[pastryfication]

I love ur fics ❤️ can you do an Oscar x reader fic where she can’t find Oscar in the paddock and is panicking and goes to lando for help x

i'm here but i'm lost in crowd

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: you guys seem to really love platonic lando lol so here's another one <3 also i’m sorry i somehow misread your request to reader getting lost and not losing oscar…

the united states grands prix were by far the most chaotic races of the season. normally, you didn’t prioritise them—the time-zones messed with your sleep schedule, the amount of spectators became overwhelming, and oscar had so many media duties that he barely had time for you, so why spend precious days off when you could use them on less crowded grands prix?—but you had time off either way, so on a 20 hour flight to the other side of the world you were.

you tried to stay close to kim as you arrived at the paddock. he was the person on oscar’s team who you knew and trusted the most, and he was more than happy to let you tag along to his duties, but eventually, he had to go to a meeting, and then you had to find somewhere else to go.

at first, you decided to stay in the hospitality area, too afraid of getting lost to wander about, but it quickly started to bore you. there were no familiar faces, and you grew tired of sitting alone in a corner.

walking outside the mclaren building, you were immediately met with the rush of people walking around you. the air was full of excitement and anticipation—the usual on a race weekend—and you couldn’t help but smile. this was why you wanted to come to as many races as possible; you absolutely loved the atmosphere.

smiling, you walked through the paddock, waving to fans when they noticed you, stopping briefly to say hi to engineers and other mclaren personnel as you passed them, and before you knew it, you found yourself in a completely unfamiliar place.

you looked around, realising just how disoriented you were. the hum of the paddock, which had initially filled you with excitement, now felt like an overwhelming blur. faces passed by too quickly to register, people walking around everywhere and your heart started to race as the nagging feeling grew—where were you?

the crowds seemed to move faster now, making you feel even more isolated. the rush of people, the sounds of chatter and excitement, the bright texas sun bearing down—it all added to the growing panic in your chest. you tried to retrace your steps in your mind, thinking back to how you'd ended up here, but the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like you’d wandered too far. you could feel your throat tightening as you scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces. why hadn’t you just stayed in the mclaren hospitality?

you reached for your phone, intending to send an SOS to someone from the team, but your pockets were empty. had you really been stupid enough to forget your phone?

as the realisation that you really were alone settled in your body, you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you could do this. you’d been to enough races by now to find your way back, right?

but no matter how much you told yourself that, the panic only grew. what if you walked the wrong way and ended up even further from where you were supposed to be? what if you bumped into the wrong crowd and caused a scene? the paddock suddenly felt more intimidating than exciting, the noise drowning out your thoughts, leaving you frozen in place.

just as you felt yourself spiraling, a voice broke through the chaos.

“hey!” a voice called out your name. “what are you doing out here alone?"

you spun around so fast that you nearly stumbled, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes landed on the familiar face of lando norris. relief flooded through you so intensely that for a second, you couldn’t even form words. lando was standing just a few feet away, his helmet under one arm, a slightly confused but amused look on his face. he took a step closer, raising an eyebrow as he glanced around.

“pretty far from mclaren territory, aren’t you?” he teased, though his tone was light, and there was a softness in his eyes when he looked back at you.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t even know how it happened. i was fine, just walking around, and then all of a sudden, nothing looked familiar anymore. and now i just—” you trailed off, feeling a little ridiculous for admitting how overwhelmed you were.

lando’s expression softened when he noticed the genuine worry in your eyes. “hey, it’s alright,” he said, his voice gentle now. “it happens to the best of us. this place can be a maze if you’re not paying attention. if i had a dollar for every time someone got lost in this paddock, i’d have… well, probably enough to buy a few extra helmets.” he smiled when you laughed at his words, glancing around, as if to get his bearings, before his eyes landed back on you. “come on, i’ll walk you back before oscar starts a search party.”

you let out a breath of relief, feeling the tension in your chest loosen just a little. “thanks, lando.”

“don’t mention it,” he replied with a wink. “besides, it’s not every day i get to play the hero.”

you rolled your eyes shaking your head slightly, and as you continued walking through the paddock, the surroundings began to look more familiar. with lando’s easy-going presence beside you, the fear that had gripped you earlier seemed almost ridiculous now.

“you know,” he said after a few moments of walking in companionable silence, “i think oscar might owe me for this one. saving his girlfriend from the wild paddock? that’s gotta be worth at least a couple free dinners, right?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound of it surprising even yourself. “i’ll make sure he knows just how heroic you’ve been today.”

lando smirked, glancing sideways at you. “good. i expect a full report.” there was a moment of silence before he continued. “honestly, though,” lando continued, glancing at you, “if you miss someone to hang out with, you should just stick with me more often. i’ll make sure you never get lost again.

“thank you, lan.” you smiled earnestly up at him.

as you neared the mclaren building, the bustling crowd became more familiar, and the sight of papaya clad engineers and personnel milling around instantly brought a sense of comfort. you exhaled, feeling the last remnants of anxiety melt away.

“here we are,” lando announced grandly, gesturing toward the motorhome. “safe and sound, thanks to your friendly neighborhood norris.”

you shook your head, a laugh escaping you. “i really appreciate it, lando. seriously.”

“anytime,” he replied, grinning widely. “i’ll always be happy to help.”

[pin-k-ink]

ROUTINE ⋆✦⋆ miya osamu

synopsis ➸ you thought things would be the same after six years away from Osamu, but surprise—turns out, distance really does make the heart grow fonder

tags ➸ kinda dub-con, best friends to lovers, sexual tension, making out, cunnilingus, blowjob, face-fucking, come-eating, dom!samu, unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, dirty talk, praise kink, dry humping, breeding kink,

wc ➸ 6.5k

"Damn, I was wondering when you'd finally roll up," you teased as Osamu's car pulled up to the curb outside arrivals. "I was about to have them page you over the intercom like a lost child or something."

He shot you a flat look as you chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat with a dramatic flourish. "Yeah, well, maybe I would've been here sooner if a certain someone hadn't decided to bring half her apartment along for the trip."

You gasped in mock outrage, playfully swatting his arm as Osamu pulled away from the curb. "My luggage is perfectly reasonable, Mr. Smart Mouth! Not all of us can be professional minimalists, you know."

Osamu snorted at that, lips twitching upwards ever so slightly in that subtle way you'd always adored. "Pretty sure there's minimalist and then there's whatever hoarding problem you've got going on back there."

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly before both of you dissolved into familiar laughter - any last remaining tension from the years apart melting away in an instant. This was simply how it always was between you and your oldest friend, trading playful jabs and insults like two unruly siblings. The ease of simply being yourselves around each other again filled you with profound comfort and nostalgia.

"God, I missed this so freakin' much," you admitted once the laughter subsided, reaching over to briefly squeeze his bicep affectionately. "The whole sarcastic smart-ass battle of wits, I mean. None of my other friends back home could keep up quite like you."

Osamu hummed, the barest hint of a smirk playing over his features as he merged onto the highway. "You say that like it's a good thing, dork. Pretty sure half the gray hairs I'm rocking now are from all the stress of dealing with your particular brand of chaos all those years."

You scoffed dramatically. "Pleaaaase, I single-handedly kept you from being an even bigger stick in the mud growing up. You're welcome for helping cultivate your sparkling personality, sir."

That earned you an eye roll, but you didn't miss the undeniable warmth flickering in the depths of Osamu's intense stare every time he snuck a glance your way. Like he was just as pleased at falling back into this familiar banter as you were.

The rest of the drive passed in a similar fashion - full of laughing recollections of old haunts long abandoned and inside jokes so deeply embedded you were the only two people left who understood them anymore. Whenever a lull arose, one of you would almost immediately find some new embarrassing anecdote to poke fun at the other over, dragging yourselves into another spiral of cackling wisecracks until you could scarcely breathe.

It was only as Osamu navigated his car through your new neighborhood's winding streets that the conversation lulled more naturally. A comfortable quiet blanketed over you both, replete with unspoken depths of affection and certainty built up over literal decades of steadfast camaraderie against all odds.

When he finally pulled up to the curb outside your new building, you felt a bizarre pang in your chest - a reluctance to break this tranquil cocoon of nostalgia and easy familiarity just yet despite the obvious need to collect your luggage waiting in the trunk.

Osamu must have sensed your hesitation because he shot you another one of those subtle sidelong looks, pewter irises inscrutable. You maintained the heavy silence for another suspended heartbeat before gesturing vaguely towards the car's rear.

"Well...I guess we should probably see about unstuffing the trunk before the neighbors start thinking we're accomplices in some robbery or something, huh?"

His low chuckle rumbled through the space between you, rich and effortlessly relaxing your tensed shoulders all over again. "Yeah, yeah...I got it. You just sit tight and I'll start hauling your mountain of crap inside before the old guy veins start bursting too much strain."

You grinned and stuck out your tongue as he unbuckled and moved to exit the vehicle. Typical Osamu - always keeping things low-key and pragmatic no matter the situation, even when it came to giving you grief over your travel habits.

Feeling lighter than you had since initially booking your return ticket, you pushed open your own door and stretched out your travel-weary limbs while waiting for your friend to join you. Over the still-running engine's idle rumble, you could hear Osamu's telltale grumbling and shuffling on the other side of the sedan as he rooted around the trunk area.

You couldn't resist tossing another teasing quip over your shoulder. "Need a hand over there with my 'mountain of crap', your highness? Or should I just leave you to suffer under the strain alone a bit longer as punishment for the snark?"

You'd barely gotten the words out before freezing dead in your tracks, one foot already hovering outside the car door to disembark as your heart lurched into your throat. Because rather than issuing some characteristically dry retort or scoffing rejoinder...Osamu had simply appeared beside you in one fluid, prowling motion - broad chest heaving slightly and intense eyes burning into yours with laser focus.

Before you could even suck down enough air for a startled yelp, his calloused palm curved around your nape with surprising reverence and urgency - tilting your head just enough to slot your parted lips together in a scorching, fevered collision. One that robbed what little oxygen remained in your lungs completely as Osamu sealed his mouth over yours in a heated glide of rasping demand.

You whimpered helplessly against the searing onslaught despite every rational cell screaming at the sudden freefall. And as Osamu growled in response, tongue delving deeper to chase the trembling surrender in your very marrow, you found yourself clutching his shirt in desperation - torn between shoving him away or clinging for dear life in the rapturous storm.

Just as quickly as the explosive fusion ignited, however, Osamu was tearing himself away with a harsh inhale. You stared at each other in twin states of dumbstruck bewilderment - both panting harshly and thoroughly awash in the lingering aftermath of whatever that was.

Before you could unstick your frozen tongue enough to articulate the maelstrom of shock and confusion ricocheting between your ears, Osamu leaned in once more and pressed a single, shuddering exhale against your damp lips.

"Bags...yeah, lemme get those inside for you first," he rasped out in a wrecked rumble that made your knees go weak all over again for an entirely different reason now.

You blinked at him owlishly for a beat, still reeling from the molten collision that had just blurred every line between you mere moments ago. But true to form, your oldest friend simply turned and began hauling your numerous suitcases from the car's trunk without further preamble.

Despite the electric tension still sparking over every nerve ending, you found yourself falling back into familiar patterns without conscious thought - gathering the smaller carry-ons and preceding him up the front walk towards your new apartment's entrance.

Neither of you spoke a word beyond the occasional directional murmur as you located the right door and disarmed the lock. An outside observer would find nothing remotely amiss about the scene unfolding between two people who'd known each other longer than most could fathom.

Yet the lack of acknowledgment regarding Osamu's heated outburst out by the curb only amplified the sense of dizzying unreality now draped over your shoulders. Had that happened at all? Or maybe it was simply the thrilling first flickers of an intoxicating dream bleeding into waking life for once?

You couldn't resist darting quick, sidelong glances at him from beneath your lashes as Osamu moved about depositing your luggage throughout the front room. He didn't seem disturbed in the slightest - features settled into those same stoic, carefully neutral lines you knew better than your own reflection.

Only the occasional flare of his nostrils or reflexive bob of his throat as he swallowed betrayed the lingering heat simmering just below the surface each time your gazes happened to intersect accidentally. It made you dizzy, this bizarre vacillation from unholy passion back to mundane patterns - like a vicious rubber band stretched taut before snapping loose without warning over and over.

Eventually, the final bag thudded into the pile and Osamu straightened to regard you head-on once more. Any sardonic quips about your inability to pack lightly died on your tongue as you took in the weight of that piercing steel-gray stare boring into you with renewed intensity.

Before you knew what was happening, Osamu stalked forward in three prowling strides that should've had your senses shrieking in instinctive retreat. But all you could manage was a trembling inhale as he backed you up against the nearest wall with purposeful possession - caging you in on both sides with those powerful forearms.

"'Samu, what—"

Whatever feeble protest your addled mind scrambled to summon withered entirely as Osamu dipped his head and sealed his mouth over yours in another explosive, wholly unexpected fusion. You moaned outright this time, relishing the smoky musk and cedar wood notes of his scent enveloping you in a rapturous shroud as his tongue swept inside.

Osamu groaned in answering delight, drinking down each needy little keen as he set about ravaging you with delirious single-minded intent. One broad palm cradled the nape of your neck to keep you angled vulnerably for his thorough possession - tilting and angling your parted lips to grant him deeper access.

You clutched at the firm muscles bracketing your waist mindlessly, nails raking with every desperate roll of your hips chasing more friction against his undulating form. Only when your ragged gasps pitched higher in the rapidly fogging air did Osamu finally tear away with a harsh inhale - though he made no move to disentangle from your helpless sprawl entirely.

The weight of his intense gaze as he studied your disheveled, panting state robbed you of any coherent protests still rattling in the disjointed remnants of your mind. Instead, you simply watched in transfixed awe as Osamu leaned in once more to ghost a revenant swipe of his tongue over your damp, kiss-swollen lips.

"Tomorrow, [Y/N]," he rumbled in a voice gone to gravel and sin made flesh against the vulnerable juncture of your throat. "First thing, or I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands off you much longer..."

You could only keen feebly as his teeth nipped at the slender column there in reprimand before Osamu withdrew entirely on another scalding exhale. He pinned you with one final, simmering look that promised so many more unholy delights to come in its depths before turning on his heel.

"I'll see you at the shop for sure," he tossed over his shoulder in that same careless drawl tinged with husky promise now. "Get some rest while you still can..."

And on that confounding parting note, Osamu slipped back out into the shadowed hallway beyond - pausing only briefly to toss you one final lingering look that made your thighs tremble instinctively. Before the echo of his footfalls faded from your consciousness entirely, you were pressed back against the wall with leaden limbs and breath still coming in sharp staccato bursts.

What had just happened? Or rather, what cosmic floodgates had finally been irrevocably pried open in one heated, unspoken downpour that threatened to shatter every known facet of your relationship with Osamu entirely?

You had no idea. But one glaring truth blazed forth in blinding clarity despite your spinning disorientation still:

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough...

You tried not to dwell too heavily on the loaded implications laced through Osamu's parting words as you dragged yourself through your nightly routine in a bit of a daze. But no matter how you tried distracting yourself with mundane tasks and unpacking, flashes of his smoldering stare kept creeping in - stoking the lingering butterflies still rioting in your belly.

Sleep eventually claimed you in fits and bursts, restless dreams threaded through with phantom caresses and rasping whispers that left you gasping awake more than once. By the time your alarm blared into wakefulness the next morning, you felt more drained yet feverishly buzzing with anticipation than ever.

Getting ready on autopilot, you hyper-focused on simply making it through the immediate challenge ahead - seeing Osamu at his little onigiri shop as promised, as if nothing earth-shattering had erupted between you both last night. The entire walk over felt charged, every breath filling your lungs with the same heady tension that had cloaked over you in his presence since the airport reunion.

Except this time, you couldn't shove aside the implications behind each lingering look or simmering flicker in those intense pewter irises quite so easily. Not after finally shattering that fragile line forever with a few stolen, heated kisses that should've set your entire world ablaze completely.

The familiar ring of the bell above the door sent a little thrill through you as you stepped into Osamu's onigiri shop. Despite the lingering tension and unspoken implications smoldering between you since last night's...encounter, you were determined to simply enjoy being back in your oldest friend's presence again.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mrs. I-Can't-Be-Bothered-To-Call-First gracing us all with her presence," Osamu's rich baritone greeted you over the muted bustle of the small lunchtime rush.

You shot him a saucy grin, reveling in the familiar banter as you approached the counter. "Keep that sass up and I won't share the souvenirs I brought back for your ungrateful ass, mister."

Osamu's lips twitched upwards in that subtle yet utterly devastating half-smile you adored so much, eyes crinkling warmly even as he scoffed. "Like I'd want any of your weird knickknack junk cluttering up my shop anyway."

The two of you continued trading playful insults and jabs as you settled onto a stool, content to simply soak in Osamu's presence again after so long apart. Any residual tension from last night's explosive shared moment seemed to settle on the back burner as you fell back into the easy cadence that had anchored your connection for literal decades.

Osamu drifted back and forth behind the counter while simultaneously tending to orders, keeping up a steady stream of dry quips and smirks pitched just for your amusement all the while. You matched him step for step in turn, biting back laughter whenever his gruff one-liners proved too much. This was where you both thrived - bouncing off each other's sarcastic frequency with sublime ease and a profound intimacy that no years or distance between you could ever fracture.

At least, that was what you kept repeating like a mantra in the back of your mind whenever glimpses of that scorching intensity flickered through Osamu's gorgeous pewter gaze whenever it tracked over your features. A molten reminder of the unraveling tension you'd only just whetted the surface of the night before...

You tried valiantly to ignore the flutter of butterflies swooping through your belly each time without fail. Tossing out another sly rejoinder instead, just to reinforce the sense of normalcy and comfort this was all supposed to be about. Just old friends reuniting after too long apart, nothing more complicated than that.

Yet as the afternoon hours wound lazily by, you couldn't quite smother the rising anticipation prickling over your nerves anew. Osamu seemed utterly unruffled and focused on his work, but you felt his gaze lingering more often than not - studying you with an inscrutable heat dancing in those striking irises.

By the time evening rolled around and the last customers slowly trickled out, shouting their thanks and well-wishes over their shoulders, you felt strangely adrift despite the lingering warmth of reconnecting with Osamu again all day.

As your oldest friend waved them off with typical gruffness, you found yourself slipping back into the familiar comforting routines you'd fallen into while at his house a lifetime ago - gathering stray dishes, wiping down the countertops, straightening each of the comfy armchairs you both favored during quieter hours.

So absorbed were you in the mundane motions and reliving aged memories attached to every nook and cranny of the humble onigiri shop, you completely missed the distinct sound of the front door locking behind you. Nor did you notice the sudden weighted silence draped over the space like a physical presence until a solid wall of blazing heat pressed flush against your back.

You gasped sharply, frozen mid-motion before a large palm splayed over your abdomen - callused fingertips digging into the pliant give of your waist with delicious possession as your captor rumbled approval against your nape.

"There's my good girl," Osamu growled in a voice gone to scorching gravel that made you flush instantly. "All dolled up and playing at being the obedient little helper again for me...you know damn well that disguise won't fly anymore after last night, don't you baby?"

You trembled despite your best efforts, breath hitching as he nuzzled deeper into the fragrant tangle of your hair - lips skating over the thundering pulse at your throat in maddening prelude. Every powerful shift and roll of his taut muscle caged you between the iron brands of his arms deliciously.

"O-Osamu..." you somehow managed to whimper out, torn between protesting his sultry accusations or surrendering to the delirious current already pulling at your senses with dizzying force.

His low, dark chuckle reverberated straight through your attenuated nerves anew as one broad palm anchored itself over your belly, dragging you snug against the unforgiving planes of his chest in a slow, sinuous grind. You gasped at the unmistakable hardness of his cock etching against the supple curve of your ass - slick fabric doing nothing to conceal the virile intent radiating off your oldest friend in molten waves now.

"Such a pretty show you put on all day long, hm?" Osamu purred in a tone dripping with raw masculine approval - the other hand palming the generous swell of your breast as if to emphasize the point. "Playing coy and innocent like you weren't creaming those pretty little panties at the very thought of me pinning you down and giving it to you proper..."

Another whimper slipped free as his clever fingers rolled and plucked at your taut nipple through the thin material - teasing sparks of electric pleasure arcing straight down to your thrumming core. You instinctively arched back into the furnace of his powerful frame, head lolling as he lavished open-mouthed kisses along your arched throat.

"And you know what the best part is, my sweet?" he growled out darkly between each searing caress and bruising nips. "You never even noticed… how much I’ve been thinking about you all these years, just like this..."

Before you could form a single coherent protest, Osamu spun you effortlessly to pin you facing him - sculpted chest heaving and pewter gaze blown wide with unfettered lust and blistering possession. You stared up at your oldest friend in wonder, utterly transfixed by the unholy intent simmering in his every smoldering look and dexterous touch now.

This was your Osamu - indelible anchor and source of joy turned singular rapture incarnate, trapping you within the scorching gravity well of his ravenous focus entirely. And you'd never felt so deliriously desirous of sinking into its cavernous depths without hope of reprieve or salvation beyond what he chose to impart through the profane benedictions of his lips and hands alone.

As if sensing your silent, wanton surrender in that suspended heartbeat, the smallest smirk curved those full lips you'd already been branded by in delicious perpetuity. Osamu dragged the seam of his mouth over yours in a featherlight tease - tongue flicking out to taste the trembling whimpers he'd already coaxed forth so expertly.

"So what do you say, pretty girl?" he growled in a tone that promised euphoria and rapture in equal measures. "Are you gonna be good and take what I've been dreaming of giving you for far too long now, hm?"

You could only whimper and nod shakily, already undone by the sheer virile promise simmering in his scorching stare as he captured your mouth in a searing, unraveling glide of possession that ignited every nerve ending instantaneously. As Osamu hoisted you up effortlessly, strong hands cradling the plush swell of your ass and squeezing with unrepentant glee as you twined your limbs around him instinctively, the last vestiges of restraint and hesitation were obliterated entirely.

And this time, neither of you had the slightest intention of looking back...

"Mmm, there we go, baby," Osamu purred against the tender flesh of your throat as he strode across the modest expanse of the onigiri shop. "God, the things I've wanted to do to you since we were stupid teenagers - you have no idea..."

You moaned feebly, utterly lost to the sensation of being carried effortlessly in those strong arms - cradled and claimed so effortlessly in turn. Every step sent sparks of electric arousal skittering along the hypersensitive pathways of your nerves as the rigid press of his cock strained the zipper of his jeans, rubbing torturous friction over the dampened apex of your thighs.

You'd always adored his size and stature, but the sheer virility thrumming off Osamu's powerful form as he pinned you against the nearest wall and devoured your mouth whole was an intoxicating revelation in and of itself.

Osamu growled in wordless appreciation as you arched your spine and rolled your hips - grinding and squirming desperately in pursuit of more. He tore away with a harsh curse, pewter irises glinting with the same ravenous desire still pulsing through you.

"You're not making this easy on me, sweet girl," he bit out roughly, though his tone was threaded through with that same possessive approval.

He punctuated the point by pinning you flat against the wall, his larger body caging yours effortlessly as the rock-hard length of his cock wedged right against the sopping seam of your panties. You mewled, helpless and aching as the first hint of his impressive size and girth registered in the foggy recesses of your mind.

"Naughty girl, making such a mess of those pretty panties already," he chided, rocking his hips once for emphasis as you keened and shuddered. "What am I gonna do with you, hm? Maybe I'll just have to get a taste, see what kind of honey my sweet little girl is dripping just for me..."

And before you could fully comprehend the implications of his husky taunts, Osamu was on his knees - dragging your panties down your thighs in one smooth motion as he nuzzled against the soft mound of your pussy. The first swipe of his clever tongue dragged a ragged cry from your lips as you fisted his silken hair desperately.

Osamu chuckled darkly, lapping and slurping in filthy, wet strokes that made you flush hot with utter wanton embarrassment. He was licking you clean, tongue laving over your soaked folds and sucking them greedily - drinking down the slick evidence of your needy desire and groaning in satisfaction.

"So fucking sweet," he growled, gripping the generous swell of your ass and dragging you closer. "Been waiting forever to find out what you taste like, sweet girl, and it's even better than I ever dreamed..."

"O-samu..."

You had no idea what was even trying to tumble out past your wrecked whimpers, but the sight of his dark head buried between your quivering thighs, devouring your pussy like a man starved was enough to send you reeling. Osamu's gaze snapped upwards, glittering and predatory - a lethal combination that made you throb and clench hungrily.

"Tell me how much you love it," he commanded silkily, even as he resumed his relentless oral assault - two thick digits sinking deep and curling in a come-hither motion that made your eyes roll back instantly.

"T-too much," you whimpered, writhing and grinding helplessly into his ministrations. "Too good, O-Osamu...I'm gonna..."

He tutted, pulling away abruptly to lap at the creamy rivulets dripping down the plump swell of your thigh. "Already, sweet girl? But we're just getting started...unless you'd rather just cum on my tongue first, hm? Get a few rounds out of the way before I really fuck you how you deserve..."

"Please," you sobbed, shaking your head and reaching out to tangle your fingers through the silky tresses of his hair. "Want you, O-samu...wanna cum on your cock..."

Osamu chuckled darkly, peppering a trail of nips and kisses as he dragged his mouth back over the swollen folds of your pussy - lapping and slurping noisily. You moaned, arching back into the delicious torture as the tension coiled tighter, ready to snap and send you crashing into bliss.

Just as your release hovered within tantalizing reach, Osamu pulled away completely - leaving you gasping and trembling against the wall as he rose to his feet. You whimpered, feeling the loss of his wicked mouth and the sudden emptiness that left you aching.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," he soothed, cradling your jaw in a palm that dwarfed your features and kissing you soundly. The taste of your own juices on his lips made you groan anew, clinging to his shoulders as his other hand stroked your spine in lazy, soothing circles. "You'll get your turn, my sweet girl, don't worry."

Somehow, his raspy purr managed to ground you and center you once more - bringing you back to the present moment and the promise of euphoric release still waiting in the wings. You blinked up at Osamu, dazed and needy as you nodded slowly.

His answering smirk sent a fresh wave of butterflies swarming in your belly as he scooped you into his arms and carried you off once more - this time, through the doorway at the end of the small hallway that led to the stairs up to his apartment.

By the time the door swung open, your heart was racing in anticipation. Osamu didn't bother turning the lights on, navigating the familiar space with ease. A lamp flickered to life a few moments later, casting the cozy bedroom in a warm glow as he deposited you onto the plush duvet.

You barely had a chance to glance around the room, soaking in the subtle changes that had been wrought in the intervening years, before he was looming over you again - gaze smoldering and a hungry smile tugging at his full lips.

"Now, where were we, my sweet?"

You were all too eager to pull him down on top of you - mouths crashing together in a wild clash of teeth and tongues that only made the desire pulsing between your thighs that much more urgent. You tugged impatiently at his shirt, desperate to feel his heated skin sliding against your own.

Osamu obliged readily, stripping out of the offending garment and tossing it aside. His hands roamed greedily over your body, dragging the hem of your dress up and off in one fluid motion - leaving you in nothing but the thin scrap of lace covering your breasts.

The sight of his broad palms skating over your naked torso made your breath hitch, arching and shivering in response. Osamu took his sweet time, palming and kneading the soft give of your flesh, his eyes never once straying from the sight.

"Always so perfect," he groaned, thumbing over your taut nipples and dragging another needy mewl free. "Gonna make such a perfect mama someday, sweet girl. Fuck, I can't wait to breed you properly..."

Your entire body flushed with heat at the lurid promise - the mental image of yourself, full and heavy with his child, too enticing for words. He smirked at the visible reaction, tweaking your sensitive nipples again as he ducked down to claim your mouth in a possessive kiss.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" he growled against the swollen plushness of your lips, his hips grinding down and dragging the rigid line of his cock over your sweat-slick tummy. "Want me to stuff you full and breed you good and proper, my sweet girl?"

You could only whimper, nodding shakily as you fumbled with the buckle of his belt. "Please, Osamu," you mewled, tugging impatiently at the waistband of his jeans and boxers until his cock sprang free - long and thick and heavy and oh, God...

A guttural groan ripped free from the depths of his chest, his grip tightening as he rutted his hips - cock dragging over the soft flesh of your tummy, slicking it with beads of pre-cum. You shuddered, already feeling the pulse and twitch of his length as it throbbed and ached.

"Gotta get you ready for me first," Osamu rasped, pressing a bruising kiss against the curve of your throat and shoulder before rolling off of you and onto his back. "Why don't you be a good girl and help me out a little, hm?"

He was already yanking his jeans down and shoving them off his hips - exposing the sculpted v-cut that dipped towards the impressive length jutting from the thatch of silky dark curls. You could only nod, already leaning over and reaching out for the molten shaft.

Osamu caught your wrist easily, giving a gentle squeeze as his gaze burned. "Nuh-uh, sweet girl. Mouth only, got it? I don't wanna make a mess just yet, and I know you're more than capable of swallowing me down..."

Another rush of heat surged through you, flushing your cheeks with humiliation and desire as you nodded eagerly. The salty tang of his precum made your mouth water as you licked a teasing swipe from root to tip, savoring the musky flavor and relishing in the way Osamu hissed sharply.

"Such a pretty thing, just as hungry for my cock as I am for that sweet cunt of yours, huh?" he purred, carding his fingers through the disheveled tangle of your hair with an unmistakable possessiveness. "I’ve been dreaming of this for so long, sweet girl. Dreaming of feeding you my cock until I stuff that pretty throat full..."

You couldn't help the needy mewl that escaped, tongue darting out to lave over the crown once more before swallowing the broad head and suckling gently. Osamu groaned, hips stuttering and grip tightening as he forced himself not to thrust upwards.

"F-fuck, just like that, sweet girl," he growled, his voice strained. "Wanna feel you choke on it a little, think you can take it?"

You whimpered in response, relaxing your jaw and sinking down further - inch by slow inch until you could feel him nudging against the back of your throat. Osamu cursed, hips flexing instinctively and sending his cock that much deeper as you choked and sputtered, drool slipping down his shaft and coating his balls.

"Oh, f-fuck, sweetheart, look at you...taking my cock so good, just like I knew you would," he groaned, hips rolling lazily as he fucked the tight channel of your throat. Your jaw ached, throat protesting as he slid in and out. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, and you fought the urge to cough and gag. It was overwhelming, a sensation bordering on too much, and yet you wanted nothing more than to feel the hot ropes of his cum sliding down your throat and filling your belly.

Osamu's breaths came in rough pants, the muscles of his abdomen clenching and releasing as he drove his cock deeper with every thrust. His gaze was fixed on the spot where your lips were stretched taut around his shaft, groaning in approval when he felt the press of your tongue along the underside of his cock.

"So good, baby, s-so fucking good," he grunted, his hips snapping a little faster, a little harder, chasing the inevitable release. You swallowed and choked around him, gagging and gasping for breath, but still you sucked him down greedily - determined to make him cum.

You were a vision, tears streaking down your flushed cheeks, mascara leaving streaks in their wake as Osamu used your throat. And it was everything he had ever imagined it would be and more. The sounds of your messy, desperate little gags and choked off whimpers sent fresh pulses of pleasure skittering along his nerves.

His balls tightened, a familiar ache thrumming through the shaft of his cock, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He fucked into the tight suction of your mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat and forcing you to swallow reflexively.

"G-gonna cum," he gritted out, tugging roughly at the roots of your hair. "Want you to drink it all down, baby. Every last drop, just like the greedy girl you are. S-so fucking close..."

Your tongue darted out, lapping at the droplets of precum oozing from the tip and swallowing hungrily. Osamu groaned, eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open as his cock twitched and jerked - spilling rope after rope of hot, salty seed directly down the tight channel of your undulating throat.

You coughed and spluttered, fighting to swallow as much as you could, but Osamu held your head firmly in place, riding the aftershocks as he chased every ounce of pleasure. His eyes glinted when you finally pulled away, a mixture of triumph and lust making them glitter dangerously.

"Such a good girl," he crooned, cupping your cheek and tracing the swell of your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. You mewled quietly, tongue darting out to catch the smear of milky white coating the digit.

"Mm, so good," he growled, his cock already beginning to harden again at the sight. "But we're not done yet, are we, sweet girl? That greedy little cunt of yours is still practically begging for my cock, isn't it? Gonna fill you up until there's no room left..."

You moaned, nodding eagerly and leaning forward to steal a hungry kiss, the lingering flavor of his cum still coating your tongue. Osamu returned the kiss greedily, one hand fisting in the tangled locks of your hair, while the other tugged at the scrap of fabric still covering your breasts.

With a growl, he tore the lace, the shredded fabric joining the growing pile on the floor as his lips dragged over the tender swell of your breasts. Osamu paused, sucking and nipping a path from one sensitive nipple to the other before closing his lips around the puckered bud.

You keened, writhing helplessly beneath him, but the hand gripping the back of your skull held you fast. The wet sounds of his mouth and the occasional scrape of teeth was almost enough to distract you from the fingers that had worked their way between your legs - slipping and sliding through the sloppy mess of your pussy with ease.

"Fuck, you really did make a mess of yourself," he muttered, sucking harder on the swollen bud as his fingers curled and sank deeper, searching and probing with single-minded intent. "Bet I could make you cum right now if I wanted, just like this, huh, sweet girl?"

"N-no," you whined, shaking your head even as the coil of pressure threatened to snap. "W-want your cock, 'Samu...need you to fuck me..."

He chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers and dragging the slick digits over the plump mound of your breast - coating the sensitive flesh with the evidence of your arousal. "Don't worry, sweet girl, I'm not gonna leave you empty. Gonna give you everything you need..."

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was on top of you once more, pinning you against the mattress as he slotted between your trembling thighs. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your swollen, aching pussy, and you nearly sobbed with relief.

"Tell me," Osamu grunted, the first few inches of his length sinking into your welcoming heat. "Tell me you need me, sweet girl. Tell me who's gonna take care of you and fuck you so good."

"Y-you, Osamu," you sobbed, the sensation of being so completely filled already bringing the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes once more. "I n-need you...I've always needed you, Osamu, please, please, please..."

He groaned, the sound almost pained as he sank the final inch and buried himself to the hilt. You were stretched taut around him, a perfect fit for his cock and his cock alone, and it was so much better than he could have ever dreamed.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this, sweet girl," he gritted out, hips snapping roughly as he fucked into you. "How many nights I spent fucking my fist just thinking about you, wishing it was your perfect cunt squeezing the cum right outta me...and now I get to have you, fuck, I never wanna let you go..."

"Y-yours, Osamu," you moaned, clinging desperately to his shoulders as he set a punishing pace, the slap of his skin against yours echoing through the small bedroom. "Always been yours..."

He snarled, hips stuttering slightly at the confession. It had been far too easy to believe otherwise in the years apart, but with you clinging to him, begging and pleading for more, the truth was undeniable.

You were his.

Osamu was all too happy to remind you of that fact - his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he rutted into you with wild abandon. The bedframe creaked and groaned, the headboard thudding loudly against the wall as he drove into you with single-minded focus.

"F-fuck, 'm close," he panted, sweat beading along his brow. "G-gonna fill this pretty cunt with so much cum, baby, fuck, 'm gonna breed you just like I promised...get you all nice and heavy, m-make sure everyone knows you're mine."

Your own orgasm was barreling towards you, coiling tighter and tighter with every rough snap of his hips. His name was a breathless mantra falling from your lips, fingers clutching desperately at the muscles of his back, as if afraid that letting go meant he would vanish.

"That's it, baby, cum for me," Osamu grunted, a particularly sharp thrust striking the hidden bundle of nerves inside you that made you see stars. "Let me feel you cum on my cock, [Y/N]. Gotta fill this cunt up just right, wanna watch it drip out, oh, f-fuck, please...please, 'm so fucking close..."

It was as though his words had flipped a switch, pleasure pulsing through your veins as the coil snapped. You sobbed his name, clinging to him as your entire body shuddered and shook, muscles contracting and fluttering around the molten length stretching you so deliciously.

Osamu cursed, the tight, pulsating squeeze of your pussy proving too much as he thrust once, twice more, burying himself to the hilt as he came. Thick ropes of his cum painted your walls, coating them with a white-hot heat that had your eyes rolling back.

He collapsed on top of you, burying his face against the damp curve of your throat and muffling his own desperate cries as he emptied himself completely. The room fell silent, save for the ragged, hitching pants of your breaths as you clung to one another.

It took several long moments for your senses to return, and when they did, it was to the comforting weight of Osamu still sprawled across you, his arms wrapped around your torso and his lips pressed to the thundering pulse of your neck.

You sighed softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and let yourself enjoy the warmth and comfort for just a little while longer.

The rest would come soon enough.

[livwritessometimes]

End With The Spring Fling

: Part 12 (Oscar's Version)

: The Spring Fling is finally here!

: Prev

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: author's note: And with that Oscar’s Version is finally over! Can’t believe it was a 12 part series, feels much longer than that. Can’t wait for other versions to come 💕

…

It was finally the time everyone had been waiting for. It was time for the names to go live. There was a sense of nervousness in the air, several students looking towards each other, wondering who their match was going to be. The Head of the Department of Mass Communication made her way towards the stage with a mic in hand. "I'm sure you all are excited for the grand reveal?" she questioned as cheers erupted in the venue. "Before we get on with that, I would like to call someone to the stage. You see, without this person, you would not have this reveal tonight. So please put your hands together for Ms. Y/n L/n, the person who came up with this idea," the HoD said as she passed the mic to Y/n.

"Ahh, I was not expecting this at all," Y/n said as she let out a nervous laugh. "I don't even know where to begin. I am so glad for my friends, who had to deal with me during this; I know it wasn't easy, and I really appreciate you guys for being there for me," Y/n said while looking at Alex, Dylan, Daniel, and Pierre. 

"The truth is that none of this would have been possible without a certain someone's help. You see, I had no idea how to get the form up and running, and that is when my dear friend Daniel told me about this guy who can help. Let's just say the ride from that hadn't been the easiest at first, I'll admit, but over time it had become the best part of this entire project," Y/n said, smiling at the memories of her and Oscar. 

"But of course life doesn't always go your way, and I messed things up with him. So what I'm trying to say here is that, if you end up finding someone through this, I hope you hold onto that person. I hope you love them and cherish them the best you can. So enjoy your night, because the results are out," Y/n said as she got off the stage.

The entire hall was filled with excitement as people pulled out their phones to see who they got. Y/n made her way towards her group when she saw him standing in the middle of the dancefloor amongst the chaos.

"Oscar?" she said as she made her way towards him.

"Did you mean that?" he questioned.

"What?" she said.

"Did you mean what you just said up there?" Oscar asked again, with a sense of urgency in his voice.

"i-um" "Yes, I did, Oscar," Y/n finally said after overcoming the surprise of seeing him there. 

"I'm sorry I left yesterday. I just did not know what to say to you at that moment. God had I known that you felt the same, why would I have don-," Y/n was cut off by Oscar grabbing her face and kissing her.

"God! Why do you always have to talk so much?" Oscar asked before he leaned in again.

Y/n could hear hooting in the distance, and as she pulled away from Oscar, she turned to find the source of this being their friends, watching everything that had just happened. 

Clearing his throat, Oscar said, "They're never gonna let this go, are they?" "Oh yeah, be prepared," Y/n said, shaking her head, and the two joined the dancefloor.

"Fair warning, don't let Dylan intimidate you; he likes to give the dad talk to the guys I'm dating," Y/n said, cringing at the memory of said 'dad talks' that Dylan was so fond of.

"So we're dating then?" Oscar questioned, looking at Y/n, who looked a little flustered.

"I can leave if you'd like," Y/n said as she pulled away from him.

"Oh, hush you," Oscar said, pulling her even closer than before, slowly swaying the song that was playing in the background.

… Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen | @felicityforyou | @gigigreens | @jas0nluvr | @khaylin27 | @imsiriuslyreal | @cwiphswmwasohmm | @wobblymug | @e-nonsense | @raizelchrysanderoctavius | @brekkers-whore | @vintagefucksstuff | @aexitizen-ln4 | @redstappen | @iamred-iamyellow | @tsireyasgf | @ghost-of-student-sufferings | @saachiep81 | @lozzamez3 | @ravisinghs-wife | @elizamoe133 | @anthonylockwoodandco111 | @formulaal | @luvsforme | @annabellelee | @a-disturbing-self-reflection | @emryb | @grovelingmen | @illicit-affcirs | @iwilleatyourgod | @youre-on-your-ownkid | @originaldreamerdragon | @landorris | @mountvesuvu | @chezmardybum | @littlegrapejuice | @spitesfvl-blog | @juleshadalittlelamb | @vicurious28 | @niyu2208 |

[bluetimeombre]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° Call it what you want to, part two

[people actually liked it!!! and i loved it so here's more. p.s, i love tom blyth ever since i watched ballad of songbirds and snakes (four times in cinema) and i've loved timothee from the beginning and that's something nobody can take away from me!!!! also, i have nothing against kylie, i do not keep up with the kardashians so i can't say anything, but let's just imagine....]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... yourusername, rachelzegler, jacobelordi, hunterscahfer & others

tomblyth: hermes camp!

tagged: yourusername

781k likes 309k comments

user: they're together omg!

user: it's happening, it's happening !!!

user: what is a hermes camp?

yourusername: personally i'm more of an ares girl but i'll take it

user: PLS

user: she's just like us

user: they're literally in love

user: IM OBSESSED WITH YOU

user: i thought she was supposed to be in london

user: there's a thing called a plane

user: TOM I LOVE YOU

user: he's so bf ahhhhh

user: do you think she's leading tom on and then gonna go for timmy

user: parents!!!

user: pls be together, i can't be a child of divorce again

user: yourusername i love you!!

user: tchalamet

user: tchamalet

user: tchamalet

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

you are calling... 'timothee chalamet'

you: timmy help me i'm so lost and my phone is on 2%

timothee *laughing*: what do you mean? where are you?

you: i have literally no idea, i went to get breakfast

timothee: whaaaat, i went to get us breakfast

you *walking around london looking very lost* well you didn't tell me that

timothee *smiling fondly at you, but you couldn't see as you were looking around the streets* i did, i told you last night i'd get you your favourite

you: there was nobody in the hotel and i didn't know what to do. timothee please tell me you have a portable charger

timothee: i have a spare one for you

you: thank you! you're a star- omg i almost got hit my a black cab

timothee: hey, where are you?

you: i don't know, i think i've gone in a massive circle. should i get a taxi back to the hotel?

timothee *who had gotten excited to see you*: no! no-urm- oh hey, wait a minute hold on

you: my phone is on 2% please! *but you hold on, watching- or more so listening- as timothee greets what you assume was a fan, he keeps his phone on, and you're smiling at the screen (and pulling the occasional face) whilst you wait. he quickly hugs the fan and pulls his phone back out to talk to you* mr hollywood!

timothee: shut up, ok where are you?

you: i think i'm like *you look around you, missing timothee grabbing a quick screenshot of your facetime* i'm by _______

timothee: ok, i know where that is, or i think i do. wait there, i'll come to you

you: oh! there's a cafe, i'll get a coffee

timothee: i've got you one here!

you: i can drink two, i promise

you put the phone down, wanting to keep whatever battery you had and ordered yourself a coffee, taking a seat by the window. you were just lucky you had your journal to keep you satisfy while you wait for timothee to somehow find you.

(little did you know he was literally jogging to meet you in the cafe with a dying phone.)

you were half way through your coffee when the bell above the door rang and he walked in. you hadn't realised, leaning over the journal and scribbling away.

timothee noticed you- it was a relatively small cafe for london. he snapped a shot of you before quietly coming up behind you. he took his cap off, throwing it on your hair.

'you could've been anyone!' you say, closing your journal and turning to him.

'morning!' he grinned taking the seat across from you and shuffling in. 'how did you get lost?'

'there was nobody in the hotel and they said you'd gone out ten minutes ago, i didn't know you could get so far in ten minutes!'

timothee slid a bag over to you. 'i got your favourites.'

you had no idea how to act around timothee. working with him was fun, easy, you guys get along great. but after filming and after you'd been on another set and done separate things, it felt different. you guys weren't in your own little worlds anymore. you were with tom blyth and he was perfect, and then timothee would do small things, give you his jumper or his cap or pick up things he specifically knew you liked. but he had a girlfriend, he had kylie jenner! there was no way he was doing this in hopes of gaining your attention. maybe it was just how he was with friends.

'you didn't have to do that,' you said, taking off his hat and putting it between you two.

he shrugged, leaning over again. 'what? c'mon, course i did. it's a big day.'

it was premier day. wonka was premiering in london. this was your third premier, but was sure to be one of the biggest.

timothee grinned at you, watching your lips quip up. he pulled out a portable charger from his pocket, offering it to you. truth is, five minutes ago he didn't have one but when you told him you needed one, on the way to meet you he grabbed one.

suddenly, the barista approached your table and you grabbed the bag, thinking she was going to tell you guys off for bringing in food and drinks from somewhere else.

'I'm so sorry, i'm a big fan,' she said.

you laugh, throwing him his hat as he blushed madly at being caught. 'i told you! you can't go anywhere!'

timothee greeted the fan warmly before also introducing you. then, she recognised you too. it was still new to you, being known and people asking for pictures or something to be signed, but you were more than happy to oblige.

and the pictures came out. a few of the two of you with fans and in some, maybe a lot, maybe even most, timothee was looking over at you.

user1: GUYS I LITERALY MET tchalamet AND yourusername THEY WERE SO SWEET AND LOVLEY

301 likes 100 comments

user: OMG LUCKY

user: were they on a date???

user1: noooo, i think they were just meeting up

user: they always look so good

user: imagine just going to work and meeting THEM

user1: they were so cute, timothee literally brought her breakfast, saying he got her favourites which means he knows her favourites, like that's goals right there!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... zendaya, tomholland2013, florencepugh, kidcudi, yourusername & others

tchalamet: WONKA IN LONDON!

tagged: yourusername

1.2m likes 901k comments

user: style icon!!

user: does he realise there's other people but yourusername in the movie?

user: OMG I SAW YOU TONIGHT

user: can't believe i missed it!!

user: the last picture !!!!

user: WHY IS NOBDOY TALKING ABOUT THE LAST PICTURE???!!! THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER

user: yourusername is stronger than me, if timothee looked at me like that i would melt

tomholland2013: looking good mate, can't wait to see the film!

tchalamet: thank you brother, lunch soon 🙏🙏

user: tomholland2013, ariana, what are you doing here

user: he put a whole post up just for her

user: I WANT YOU SO BAD

user: her dress, stunning!!!!

user: he's literally so in love with her

user: ARE THEY DATING?

user: he's with kylie!!!

user: apparently she was there last night

user: she's stronger than me, i would not let my man look at another woman like that

user: is ship it

user: is this movie a god damn musical?

user: how can she be with tom one minute then timothee the next

user: EVERYONE PLS THEY'RE LITERALY FRIENDS, TIMOTHEE MAKES FRIENDS WITH ALL HIS CO-STARS

user: friends do not look at each other like THAT

user: they'd literaly be the hottest couple in hollywood

user: power couple

user: ❤️

user: <<33

user: yourshipname

liked by... oliviarodrigo, tomblyth, tomholland2013, tchalamet, gracieabrams & others

yourusername: wonka, london! thank you so much for all the love on the movie. i want you all to love daisy as much as i do! and thank you gucci for the dress and making me one step closer to harry styles x

1.1m likes 701k comments

user: SHE'S SO FUNNY WHAT

user: GORGEOUS

user: OMG

user: 🔥🔥🔥

user: the last picture is my new screen saver thank you

user: HOW DOES SHE GET THAT CLOSE TO TIMOTHEE

user: HAWT

rachelzegler: the prettiest girl ever

yourusername: stfu, don't make me kiss you

user: first tom, now timothee, next she'll get harry

user: GUCCI OMG SLAY

user: my mother everybody, my mother

user: flawless

user: ur so beautiful

tomblyth: beautiful

yourusername liked tomblyth's comment

tchalamet: afterparty!!!

yourusername: dude, get through the premier first

wonkamovie: we love daisy!

user: timmy is literaly in love with you

user: plssss date timmy

user: i love youuuuu

user: wonka sucked!

user: slut!

yourusername: great song by taylor swift

taylorswift liked yourusername's comment

user: collaboration of gucci between harrystyles and yourusername when?

user: is hugh grant cgi in this movie or can he actually just do that?

yourusername: no cgi went into the making of this movie

user: she's so funny for what!!!!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

'Timothee Chalamet!' he had been yelled at all night, by fans, by press, by anyone and everyone. he'd already posed for cast pictures, getting in a huge line, holding onto each other and taking the pictures.

so what if he had reached across the director, paul king's, back to hold onto your arm. and surely nobody would notice if he looked over to gage your reaction and see you smile at him. it wasn't like there were hundreds of camera's around him snapping a shot of every moment.

he headed over to the woman who had called his name, pausing by the barrier to say hello. 'yes ma'am.'

'woah, don't you look amazing, as always. first of, who are you wearing tonight, you know i got to ask!' she said.

'this is my man tom, tom ford,' he answered, laughing awkwardly at the end. 'i almost went gucci- it was almost gucci, but i couldn't do that to harry.'

'you look good either way, have you had much time with your co-stars so far tonight?'

'yea i mean, i've seen hugh, spent some time with keegan, love to see the man. we all got some photos-'

his attention and the press's attention is distracted when you stroll up to answer some questions not far from him, close enough to see how radiant you look close up. his lips turned into a smile, his arm hovering somewhere between a wave and a nudge to try to get your attenstion.

'oh woah,' might have slipped past his lips as the press held the microphone up to his lips.

'doesn't she just look fantastic?' she asked.

'hell yea!' timothee smiled, focusing back on the interview, 'always.'

'now i know you got to go soon, so just one final question, would you like a bit of chocolate?'

his face lit up. 'chocolate, oh my god i would love some, thank you. can i take two?' he asked, knowing what he'd do with the other. he was offered two little chocolates and quickly said goodbye. instead of heading into the theatre, he headed for you.

as you were chatting with the press, he didn't want to interrupt. instead, he slipped by, gently touching your arm and reaching over to whisper: 'i'll wait for you,'. but your camera caught your blush and the way you couldn't answer properly after that.

once you were done with your questions, timothee was still there waiting for you. he hugged you immediately, rubbing your arms as goosebumps rose on them. of course he'd think it's from the winter evening, when it had everything to do with him.

'you look amazing, timothee!' you gush, pulling back.

'me? look at you, you're so beautiful!' he said, keeping a hold on your arm.

'oh shut up.'

the camera's flashes were brighter, bigger and the shouts increased as they caught pictures of the two of you. but neither of you would stop for pictures, heading into the cinema.

'here.' he gave you the other little chocolate and the two of you un-wrapped them, popping them into your mouths. 'at least you didn't get lost this time.,' he joked.

you rolled your eyes.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

user: omg it's happening, it's happening

user: AHHHHHHHHHH

user: mom and dad just hard launched their relationship

user: rue, when was this?!

user: a couple days ago, after the wonka press tour and the premiers, they were seen at dinner together and making out!

user: i'm so happy

user: real life lucy-grey and coryo

user: FINALY OMG

user: what about timmy :((((( he's so in love with her

user: he has a gf

user: i feel bad for timmy

user: THE THIRD PICTURE HELLO? WHY DOES MY MAN KISS LIKE HE'S STARVING

user: he only kisses her like that

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... tomblyth, oliviarodrigo, louispartrdige_, lola.tung & others

yourusername: i love british boys (i'm literally just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her)

706k likes 201k comments

user: hard launch who?

user: they're so cute i can't

user: the caption, so real

user: omg it's so funny, do you think hugh has seen this?

user: she's back in london!!!

user: i love them please they're so cute

tomblyth: and i'm literally going to run into your press conference and ask you to be with me forever

yourusername: i'm sitting right next to you, clearly you're running nowhere

user: STOP they're so cute

user: i miss her and timmy!

user: notting hill!! she knows taste

user: i want her and timmy together

user: tom and her were made for each other, like have you seen their interviews

user: funny how timothee doesn't like pictures when it's featuring tom but he'll literally like all of her other pictures

liked by... yourusername, gq, tayrussell, emmawatson, selenagomez & others

tchalamet: thank you london! and thank you for making me a (honorary) british boy!

1.2m likes 771k comments

user: petty king!

user: plssss!! not after yourusername's post

user: he's so obessed with her i can't

user: i chose to believe yourusername took the first pic of him, it's laterally from the premier

user: COME BACK TO LONDON SOON

user: bring back little timmy tim!!!!

user: you were amazing in wonka!!

user: OMG MY MAN IS NOMINATED FOR A GOLDEN GLOBE

user: GOLDEN GLOBES BABY

user: i have the wonka soundtrack stuck in my head

user: is that yourusername in the last pic?

user: i love him!

user: marry me

user: omg he's so regulus black

user: how does he look good no matter what

user: DONT BE A FOOL AND GO GET YOUR GIRL TIMMY

user: in interviews, yourusername has literally said timmy is her celeb crush, girl same

user: how do you feel about tomblyth and yourusername?

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

582 likes

[comments restricted]

user: update, he follows one person on instragram and it's yourusername

[kenjakusbraincum]

Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.

So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.

I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work

Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3

Swan Lake

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 6.3k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!

Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.

So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.

Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...

The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.

Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.

''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.

But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.

Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.

You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.

So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...

Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.

"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"

"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.

"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"

"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -

"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.

You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.

"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.

You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.

"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."

You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...

"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.

But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.

Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.

"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."

Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.

You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.

You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.

The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.

"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.

"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.

"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.

The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.

"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"

Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."

"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.

The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...

He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.

"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.

You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.

Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.

You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.

You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.

"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.

"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.

"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.

You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"

"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.

"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.

"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"

"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.

"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.

Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.

The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.

Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.

Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.

You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.

But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.

Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?

Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.

Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.

''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''

''Did you take both at the same time?''

''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''

And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?

You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.

''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.

''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.

''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''

''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''

''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''

''Huh!?''

''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''

Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.

You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?

Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.

''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.

''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.

He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.

He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.

''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.

And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.

''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.

''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.

You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.

He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''

You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.

The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.

Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.

The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.

Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.

Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.

Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.

From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.

And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.

There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.

And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.

''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.

''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.

That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.

The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.

Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.

But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.

"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.

"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.

"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.

"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.

"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.

"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.

And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -

Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."

That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.

In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.

The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.

And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.

''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''

''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.

''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.

At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.

He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.

''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.

''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.

''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.

He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.

And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.

You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.

After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.

[thisonehere]

The Lin Kuei boys find your diary and learn that you're in love with them

Mk Headkanons

A/n: Here you are, the winner of my recent poll. Just a little fun headcanon while I work on another request. It should be ready by Wednesday or Thursday.

Tags: MK1, Polls winner, invasion of privacy (but their hot so it's okay)

C/w: None

Bi-Han

This wasn't usually like Bi-Han, of all things the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was, invading someone's privacy wasn't one of them. Until today of course.

Today was the 4th time in a row that you were missing from your training session with him. He would've thought that being allowed to train with the Lin Kuei's very own grandmother would be considered an honor. Yet here he was, standing alone looking like a fool waiting for you.

Bi-Han does not like being stood up, especially not by you. You whom he holds in such a high regard. He has so much respect for, he is generally fond of you, he feels things for you he can't even explain. So he goes to look for you, bringing him to your room.

He enters with even knocking, you don't deserve such a thing with how many times you stood him up. When he sees you aren't here he turns to leave, still eager to find, to let you know how hurt furious he is by your actions.

But before he can make it to the door, he sees something at the corner of his eye. A book. No, not just any book. Your diary.

Bi-Han thinks such things are stupid, and a waste of time. Nonsense made for children not adults. Surely anyone who partakes in this are ridiculous...But...this is your diary, and he doesn't think your ridiculous or a child at all.

He picks it up, showing care as he holds it carefully in his hands. He inspects from front cover to the back with a perplexed curiosity. Why would anyone have this? Why would you have this? He holds you in such a high regard that he views such trivial things as beneath you. What could be so important you would need have your very thoughts and deepest darkest secrets left on paper.

He knows his brothers wouldn't hesitate to open it and read. But not him though. Because unlike them he has restraint, he has strength, he has-

Bi-Han starts flipping through the pages. There has to be something in here that explains why you've so distant and absent lately. His eyes scan each and every word like they have a sacred meaning.

He especially looks for parts where you talk about him. Surely you will speak with utmost respect for your grandmaster. Maybe you explain why you've been avoiding him too.

Eventually he finds a part where you bring him up, he completely ignores the part where you talk about his brothers and goes straight t6o part where he is involved.

He takes notice with how you talk about him. You talk about how you felt butterflies in your stomach when you were near him, the way he made your heart race, the fear you had that he'd notice you blushing, how much you loved him, you wanted to be with him until the end of all time. You then go one to say the dirtiest, the most depraved things he has ever read in his life about him.

But Bi-Han reads on. He takes note of all the nasty things you'd like him to do to you. Part of him is slightly appalled. The other is very amused.

After staring at it for a while, Bi-Han clears his throat and sits the book back to where he found it and leaves.

From that point on, you can't help but notice that Bi-Han has been staring at you whenever you were in the same room. He is noticeably more patient with you than he was before. In fact, it's almost like he's being nice to you.

He has never really thought of you in such a manner before, but now, now you have his interest.

Kuai Liang

Like his brother, Kuai is a man very respectful of other people's privacy...sort of. Kuai will respect your privacy most of the time, he'll try to at least.

Kuai had been looking for you all day, he wanted to talk to you about a very private Lin Kuei business. He also wanted to see you again, just hearing your voice made his day better. But you were just friends so he never told you about it because then that would make things weird.

Kuai gets to your door and gently knocks before he enters. He happily calls your name as he enters. When he sees that you aren't present he disappointedly turns to leave. But he catches something in the corner of his eye.

He goes to pick it up, he doesn't really know what it is at first. He's not as familiar with concpt as Bi-Han and Tomas. So he opens it and starts reading. It doesn't take him long to figure out what it is after reading the first page.

After that something clicks and he goes to put it down and leave. Or that is at least what he wants to do. He is so tempted to continue that he has to remind himself how wrong thus is.

To continue reading is wrong. It's a violation of you, one of his closest friends. Besides, he is an honorable man, he believes in duty and respect and-

Anyway, now he is sitting on your bed reading through your diary like it's the Bible. He's basically halfway through the books so he convince himself that it's far too late to turn back now.

He is specifically interested in reading what you have to say about him. So he flips ahead to a writing log where you mention him. Kuai takes a deep breath before reading, he generally hopes you like him.

You talk about how nice you think Kuai is, how cool, also hot he is. Pun intended.

It took Kuai a few seconds to process what you just said. He reads on, finding more writing logs about him and they all say similar things about how attracted you are to him. He gets one specific one where you were talking about all the things you liked about him.

Kuai was overwhelmed with all this affection you had on paper for him. At the end, you confess that you have feelings for him, that you were in love with him.

Kuai couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was on paper in front of him yet he still couldn't believe it. He sets the book back where he found it and quickly leaves your room.

The next coming days were tough for him. Whenever he looked at you, all he could think about was your words. He was still in shock, this all felt so unreal. He stares into your eyes and wonders how long you felt this way, if you still feel this way.

He wants to come up to you, tell me that he feels the same way. But that would also mean he'd have to confess about reading your diary. Would you be forgiving if he tells you? Maybe, you'll just need time to forgive.

He will just fantasize about the potential future he could have with you if everything goes. Please, Elder gods of you're listening, let things go well.

Tomas

Tomas is a sweetheart, that is known. But he is also a very nosey sweetheart. Unlike his brothers, Tomas is a very curious person. That often is much to his and others slcurgrine

He comes to your room with the hopes of being able to hang out with you. Kuai and Bi-Han were always so busy so it was often you two who hung out the most.

Tomas enjoys the time he spent with you. Bi-Han and Kuai can often be pretty intense for him to be around, so he finds comfort with being just with you.

After knocking a few times he enters, much to his disappointment you aren't here. He goes to leave hoping to find you, until he notices your diary. It caught his attention the single second he laid eyes on it. He immediately recognizes what it is, he has one himself.

The thoughts of opening and reading all your dark and dirty secrets pop into Tomas's head instantly. I can't, he thinks. How could I possibly do this to you? I would be violating your personal space. There could be something in there that is really embarrassing, or be about your deepest darkest desires, maybe even someone you might have a crush on.

Tomas tries to fight off the temptation to read it, but he fails. He carefully picks up the book and opens it. Already he feels filthy with guilt.

He begins to look through it, every page feels like a sin to read, but he couldn't stop reading. The thrill of it all kept him going to the point that he already got through almost half of the book. He laughed at your most embarrassing stories, he felt sad when you expressed any tragedy or hardship you faced, he felt overjoyed at your victories.

He felt pretty good...until you began to talk about him and his brothers. At this point he got nervous at what you could potentially think about him and his brothers, especially him. It was pretty standard things, you thought Kuai was nice, Bi-Han was a hothead, and you thought Tomas was cute...wait...

Tomas's eyes grew ten inches wide at this. What? N-No, that's all wrong he has to read it again. Cute? What do you mean cute? Cute as in nice, o-or as in attractive. Surely you meant as in kind.

He flips forward, finding another log where you talked about him. Here you go into much more detail about how you felt towards Tomas, how much you loved, the way he made useful so giddy, you just wanted to plant kisses him all over his cute little face.

Tomas, jaw on the floor and eyes wide opened to the point of almost popping out, couldn't believe what he was reading. He cheeks were turning red with blush and he was without words as he continued reading. Okay, now he really regrets reading this.

In a panicked state, Tomas throws your book somewhere and runs out of your room.

The next few days were hell for Tomas. He felt like such a horrible friend. He betrayed your trust and privacy, and now he knows that you're in love with him. He feels horrible whenever he sees and remembers what he's read, how he invaded your privacy.

As he continues, Tomas can't help but think of you differently now. He fears that he's falling in love with you now. He thinks. He doesn't know.

Gods, he just wishes he never opened that book. Now he has developed feeling for you in such a rapid pace, he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he'll just have to confess to reading your diary.

He plans too eventually, the guilt eats him up every day. He just needs to work up the courage to do so. Hopefully you won't hate him, please don't hate him.

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.3)

W/C: 3.1k #SFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, ABO elements, mentions of death, yuuji has entered the chat, gojo has entered the chat, idky this got sad tho lol

A/N: This bit made me very sad please suffer thank you!!! Also the main story will be wrapping soon (I think next part will be the last part?) and then after that, it'll probably be drabbles! There might be a 'sequel' that touches on the culling games tho because b r u h they've got some down time during that arc so hfhfhfhfhghghf imagine what I could do--

tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

A strict no-contact order had been placed on Yuuji, and, subsequently, Sukuna. Neither were to come into contact with you while you recovered, and neither were to be alone with you considering the control-slip incident. 

Still, the curse had been rampant in the young man’s mind, constantly pacing back and forth just behind his consciousness, waiting patiently as a predator should for Yuuji's guard to go down. Granted, even if Yuuji was caught by surprise, it'd still be near impossible to overtake the peppy twenty year-old. Sukuna didn't have an explanation, but it was what it was. 

He would have gladly seized control now, when you'd somehow managed to slip away from your recovery prison and get comfortable in Itadori Yuuji's bed. Sukuna would have slaughtered everyone at the academy for a second to touch you again, to breathe you in.

But the brat finally realized something was off, and woke to find your head tucked under his chin, his arms slung across your waist. Your breath fanned across his collarbone, tickling the sorcerer's touch-starved skin and feeding the fire burning in his cheeks–Sukuna, though, didn’t seem pleased his host was the one touching you. Yuuji counted that as a victory. 

Suck it, dickhead.

Hm? A stranger’s voice rippled instead of the king's. 

Yuuji jolted, his blood growing cold for a second before recognizing that voice–it came from that tidal wave of memories. But it didn't tick him off the way Sukuna's did. It was…nice.

Uh…you can hear me? Yuuji wondered. He tried to envision his voice as loud and clear as possible to help it reach you. 

Your brows twitched in your daze. Yes, I can hear you. There's no need to shout. 

Oh. Sorry. Uh, how'd you get in here? 

The door. 

Oh. Cool. Yuuji shifted a little. I'm not really supposed to, y'know, make contact with you or–

But you're warm. Your nails lightly dragged across his back, leaving trails of tingly pinpricks dancing across his skin. Yuuji swallowed a moan. God, why did the littlest touches feel so nice? 

Y-Yeah? My grandpa used to say I ran hot. Like a furnace or somethin’. 

I agree. You burn like firewood. And you smell warm. Like cedar and honey. You stretched languidly, and the younger stayed put, not strong enough to pull away from your praise and touch. Your teasing fingers raked through his hair daintily, and this time Yuuji did moan. Just the slightest bit before he snapped his mouth shut and bit his lip. 

You leave me wondering how you taste. 

“What?” Yuuji squawked. Your eyes lazily opened a crack, seemingly put off by the sudden break in room silence. It gave the sorcerer an opportunity to admire the golden glints of divinity hidden in the hue of your iris. 

But he found fear in that moment, too. Yuuji knew what most didn't–the curse sealed inside of him thought you to be his equal. You were the only beast Sukuna would bow before, the only one whose attention he craved and sought in his reign. 

You were, in a way, a king yourself.

Do you think I'll eat you, Yuuji? 

“I–uh–you–well–” Yuuji fumbled exceptionally, choking on flustered words. “I just--Sukuna ate people, right? So, uh. Maybe you did too?” 

You looked him over for a moment. Your gaze traced the cute curve of the younger's nose, the petite fangs worrying at his bottom lip, the caramel swirl of his eyes. He looked so much like Sukuna. It made you wonder. 

I've eaten humans, yes, You agreed, nonchalant. Do you want me to eat you?

“Eat me?” Yuuji deadpanned, unsure if he should feel just bothered or hot and bothered. “I, well–”

No. Sukuna’s voice cut like ice through Yuuji’s mind. For a second, it scared him. It reminded Yuuji of what exactly Sukuna was. What he’d do. 

So what would you do?

“Hey,” Yuuji started, suddenly calm, serious. “Why’re you on Sukuna’s side? You don’t seem like a bad person.”

You took a deep second to think before sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. Your tails curled weakly around your clothless frame, swallowing up any spot a young man’s curious gaze might wander in the secrecy of night. Maybe you’d been in this situation before. 

“‘Good.’ ‘Bad.’ We all have different definitions.” Your voice rattled and scraped out your tired throat, yet you didn’t look perturbed in the slightest. “I do what pleases me: garden, sew, eat. Sometimes, I may cause harm in the process. I care sometimes, and I don’t others. Does it make me evil to choose what I care about?” 

Yuuji’s head started to ache. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up with your fancy, archaic way of speaking, but he was sure as hell gonna try. 

The younger sat up, too, and ruffled up his hair. “I mean. Don’t you wanna try to, y’know, not hurt people? Not cause harm, ‘n stuff?”

“Is fire wicked? Or does it simply exist?” You posed. “In the control of man, it is sacred. It cooks food, illuminates the dark, cloaks you with warmth. Yet it burns down trees. Swallows homes. Devours crops. Kills.” 

You looked at Yuuji, rose-wrapped eyes resentful of something the sorcerer could not know. “Man regards fire as a blessing when controlled, yet it is a curse when it runs free with nature–existence, the black and white of the world, is in the eye of the beholder.” 

Yuuji didn’t like how much that made sense to him. Objectively, Sukuna was bad. He killed. He murdered for fun. He ate people–

Yet your words, your pretty way of speaking and philosophies gave Yuuji pause. It didn’t click, despite igniting grim sparks in the cogs hidden far behind his eyes. He already made his mind up about good and evil, yes and no, white and black, and yet–

You poked him in the forehead, between his eyes, and Yuuji blinked. 

“It’s merely food for thought, Yuuji.” Why did you know his name again? “Don’t burden yourself with making decisions or anything of the sort. I suppose my answer was long-winded in regards to your question.” 

“Yeah, kinda,” he laughed, rubbing his cheek. “But, uh…it helped, I guess.” Yuuji pulled your hand down from poking him. “You don’t think Sukuna’s bad,” he concluded.

“I think he was a force of nature.” Your head tilted. Your eyes softened. “A monster to some, a god to others.” 

“‘N to you?”

Your eyes caught the morning light, iris reflecting with waking embers. 

“He was everything.”

Gojo thought you were pretty in the same way Getou was pretty; you were handsome with fine features, you radiated with odd power, and you spoke with unmatched poise and purpose it almost made the man’s ego swoon. 

But you looked tired as Getou had, too. Skin void of blushing warmth, eyes distant and hazy, dark circles pulling your gaze away from him. He didn't like it. It made him remember that cold hand ripping his heart to pieces. 

“Look who’s awake!” Gojo cheered as he sauntered toward you, hands in his pockets and a smile adorning his face. “Hungry? I could getcha some–”

“You were listening, were you not?” You wondered, running your bony fingers through matted fur systematically. Your split nails picked and clawed through tangles and knots thoroughly, as though it’d make a difference in your beat-up appearance. 

Gojo tilted his head before settling down in the seat beside your bed. “Hm? Me? Listening? To–”

“Yuuji and I.”

“Ah! You mean the night you snuck out to do some naughty, naughty things with my student?” 

You deadpanned fiercely, looking at him the way someone else used to. “Ha. Hm. Surely you jest.”

Gojo waggled his brows as much as he could, hoping they’d peek out over the top of his blindfold. “Hah, you think I don’t know what my sweet, precious Yuuji does behind closed doors? I know everything! I’m–”

“You misunderstand,” you cut him off, looking more and more concerned with each passing second. “You are a teacher? Why? How? This does not seem ethical.”

Gojo died. Rather, his pride did. Which was essentially his lifeforce. 

“What are you–okay, I’m just gonna chalk it up to you being cranky after getting woken up, alright? I’ll give you a pass. Just once!” Gojo nodded as a benevolent creature should. “You should thank me.”

“I’d rather not.” You sighed and returned to your grooming. “If you wish to interrogate me, I require food first. Tofu, specifically”

Gojo laughed. “Man, you are one high-maintenance god. Alright, you want normie tofu, or agedashi tofu?” 

You blinked and looked at him, curious. 

“Agedashi tofu?”

You really liked agedashi tofu. You liked the little sauce it came with, you liked the other random shit Gojo bought to try and win over your compliance–well, honestly, he also just wanted an excuse to shower someone with the food and snacks he liked. It’d been a long time since he’d had the privilege to. 

“So,” Gojo said as he popped the marble into the ramune bottle for you and handed it over, “About you and Sukuna.” 

“Mhm?” Your eyes glittered in fascination as you took the drink and examined it from all angles, carefully tilting it here and there to watch the blue bubbles rise to the top as the glass ball rolled and spun in its tiny prison. 

Gojo almost lost his train of thought watching you, but he reigned it in quickly.

“Seems like you were close.” Were was important. You'd referred to the menace in past tense when speaking with Yuuji–clearly, you didn't realize the curse resided within the young sorcerer. Best to keep it that way.

You pursed your lips in thought for a moment.

“I suppose. Why?” 

“I'm just nosy!” 

“I know that already. But there exists intelligence behind your annoying behaviour.” Your gaze slid to him, staring through the veil of fabric and straight into his eyes. “You're a monster like he was, aren't you?” 

“Hah?! Rude!” Gojo whined, but regained composure just as fast. “Seems your intuition is pretty good, huh?”

“It's simply an understanding of nature.” 

“Is that what pulled you to him? His nature?” 

“No. I was given to him. As a gift. By a clan of sorcerers.”

“Huh. A gift.”

“Yes. The harvest festival required as much. He was revered as a godly creature. Something to be feared.” 

“And so were you,” Gojo guessed, and you frowned and looked away, instead picking through the treats and snacks brought to you. 

“The people saw us very differently.”

Sukuna didn't walk through the city below often–not until you decided you liked it down there. 

Finding out that you walked through those streets alone sent a trill of something unpleasant up Sukuna's spine; knowing you were alone, vulnerable and under the eyes of so many that so often cursed Sukuna and wished him dead made him…uneasy, maybe. You could handle yourself. Sukuna simply couldn't handle the disrespect.

But things weren’t as he assumed.

You walked through town, and the people revered you as they would Amaterasu incarnate. Most didn't address you, but all saw and accepted your presence with grace and kindness, nodding or flickering small smiles as you passed by with the king trailing behind. 

Sukuna could understand; you'd become something astoundingly breathtaking. Lush, full tails dipped and swayed as you walked with the poised elegance of royalty, the feeling only enhanced by the careful, intricate way you presented yourself in your attire. Sukuna knew you felt beautiful. You were beautiful. 

“It's (Name!)” A child cried, and Sukuna fought the urge to punt the little shit into the restaurant across the road when the tiny human grabbed at your clothes. 

But you smiled. You actually smiled when you patted the girl on the head and said your sweet hellos before ushering her along after her mother. The corners of your eyes crinkled for once, showing that, yes, you'd aged and felt joy and become so perfect because of it. And when you cooed sweet farewells to passing little ones, your fangs flickered against the colour of your lips, just for a second. 

Your gilded gaze caught his carmine stare, and you tilted your head. 

“Sukuna.” You held your hand out to him, and he took it. He had no choice. He was only human, and you were God. Walking through a city of mortals.

He let you lead on, wandering to the shops where you bought thread and fabric for your stupid little projects with money he didn't even know you had. You could have just taken everything you wanted, especially with the king stood right by your side, but you eased the shopkeeper's nerves with kind words and ample pay. 

Sukuna all but picked you up and launched you both back home the second you were done meandering. He had a job to do; he had to fully commit to siring a runt.

Now, Gojo didn't need to know all that, but it didn't stop your mind from wandering to that night; it was the first time he looked at you like that. It was the first time he decided against lording his power over you, instead holding you close and taking things slow. You missed it. You yearned for the night he stopped seeing you as a toy and saw you as you. The night he finally learned your name.

“They viewed me as something divine,” you continued, digging out of the warmth of memories. “Perhaps because I walked alongside someone like him.” 

“Well, only gods can walk through a volcano and come out unscathed, no?” Gojo smiled a bit as you looked away, embarrassed. 

“That's a poor analogy.”

“Eh?”

“How would one walk through a volcano? None would even think to get close enough to do so.”

“W-Wait–”

“You would be underground, would you not? With limbs melted, oneself ablaze? And one would not walk but wade through lava.” 

“It's just a metaphor!” Gojo wailed. 

“A poor one.” And you continued to pick through snacks, unbothered that you'd just destroyed the strongest man alive as you munched on cheese-flavoured rice puffs.

Gojo laughed, though. “I can see why he liked you. Supports the theory he's not the one who put you in the coffin.” 

“It wasn't him,” you snapped. Your ears flattened against your skull as you shrunk in on yourself. “At least…not directly.” 

Oh? Gojo leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he laced his fingers together.

“Then who was it? What happened?” 

“I don't fully understand it myself,” you confessed. Your voice was a whisper, cold and lonely like a far North winter. 

“Maybe I can help.” 

You looked to him and back down again. 

“There was a man. A sorcerer. I don't know his name–I never cared to learn it. He was odd.” You tore up little bits of hi-chew wrappers as you spoke. “He asked me if I would sacrifice myself for Sukuna.” 

“And?” Gojo prodded. 

“I would not,” you said. “Sukuna would never need my sacrifice, he'd never need my aid. He was the strongest.” A light frown tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That creature thought otherwise. He mentioned something about additional wombs, but I don't know what that means.” 

Fuck. Gojo nodded politely. “Gotcha, gotcha. What'd this guy look like? You remember?” 

“Unremarkable, save for the odd sutures across his forehead.” 

“Oh? Interesting. Alright, last question, my cute little kitsune–”

“(Name),” you cut in. “Address me as (Name).”

Gojo sparkled. “Waaah, I think our relationship just leveled up to A-tier! One more level and I can romance–”

“Please do not make me hurt you.” 

The white witch whined and deflated against his chair. “Boooring.”

You huffed and flicked your ear. “Ask your question, goblin.” 

Gojo took a breath before he spoke. 

“Are you with child right now?” 

The world changed suddenly. Seal papers coating the walls drowned in bones and flowers as the pungent sweetness of orchids and decay curled around Gojo. Around you, a cage began to rise, jutting out from the earth and encircling you like thousands of rigid arms holding you in an embrace. And your eyes–they shone with abhorrent divinity, outshining even the nine, pristine tails breathing with blackened fire. 

But there was screaming. Two voices intertwined. Little and distant, warped and outraged at–at something. Maybe Gojo? Maybe his accusations, his questions? 

Just when the sorcerer was about to act, your clasped a hand over your stomach, and you whispered with the thrum of a thousand voices:

“Be still.” 

It all moved slowly, then. The phenomenon–the apparent domain expansion–reversed, sinking back into the floors and walls with the soft sound of chittering and cooing taking the place of wicked screeches. You, too, cooed back to the twin voices, placating them with maternal ease. 

Your divinity faded with the last shreds of the illusion. Now, your colours faded further, painting you in desaturated tones of exhaustion and worry. Gojo hated that palette. It'd been used too many times on too many he doted on. God was stupid like that, creating such sad, worrisome colours.

The sorcerer took a deep breath in the silence of the room. He didn't know what to say, or how to say it. He was never good at this kind of thing. His other half was much better at this. 

But he had to try. The look on your face told him he had to try. 

What would he have done?

Gojo’s hand reached out as he leaned forward, and he caught your scarred, bony hand in his own. You didn’t pull away, you didn't fight him, you instead curled your fingers around his and held your breath while your gaze became unseeing, your heart ceased beating just as your breathing had. For a moment, you died.

“I'm sorry,” Gojo whispered. And you nodded. Somehow, he knew it meant, ‘me too.’ 

It was then, touching you, that he could feel the negative energy thrumming beneath a shell of divinity. Two different un-lives coiled inside of you, filled with bitter hate for man and undying love for their mother. For you. It wasn't unlike the bond shared between Yuuta and Rika, but this was not as simple. 

“Your ilk did not approve of Sukuna siring children,” you murmured. Your grip on his hand turned poisonous. “If you try to take them from me–”

“What'll you do?” He asked, knowing they'd never be born. 

“--I will turn everything to ash. Set fire to the skies. Just as I have once already.”

“Good.” Gojo smiled. “You'd be a good mother.” 

“I hope I one day can be.”

The masked menaced nodded again as he idly soothed his thumb across your knuckles. “Never say never, yenno? We'll figure something out for you. If you can do something to help the school–”

“I can give gifts. Once I have the energy.” You didn't sound like you did. Gojo wasn't sure if you ever would.

“Yeah? Like what?” He asked anyway. 

You looked at him, weak and defeated, yet still clinging to life. 

“My divine favour.”

[normansnt]

Almost got you, bitch

(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)

No warnings I think perhaps cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a fallen angel.

You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.

When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.

You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??

All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.

*flashback*

Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.

When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.

"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.

Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.

"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.

Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.

"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.

"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.

*end flashback*

"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.

"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.

"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."

"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.

"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."

"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.

"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.

"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"

"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"

"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.

"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"

"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"

"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.

"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.

Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.

The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.

Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.

"NO" you yelled

Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.

"(Y/N)...."

He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.

"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.

"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.

"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.

"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.

"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.

"What?" You asked

"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.

"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie

"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.

After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.

It was quite funny to watch.

At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.

Charlie also told his dad to stop.

You stood up from Adams body.

"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.

He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.

"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.

"I Almost got you, bitch"

Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.

"You wish, fucker"

And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.

When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.

"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?

Yes.

Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch

Also yes.

BUT YK WHAT.

HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.

HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Two. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, DubCon, CNC.

****Find the rest of the chapters HERE.

"You're fifteen minutes late."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, slumping down in the creaky wooden chair with an exasperated huff, running his tongue over the split-open cut on his lip as he fiddled with the gauze wrapped around his battered knuckles--the fresh blood seeping through the material told you that he had ever-so-shockingly taken part in yet another degenerate fight, this time coincidentally directly before your once-a-week tutor session.

"I'm fine, by the way." He said, not bothering to look at you. "Thanks for asking."

"Why should I?" You tilted your head, already feeling the heat of his suffocating arrogance filling your lungs. "It's not like you've ever cared about my well-being, or as you've so clearly proven today; my time."

Riddle scoffed, rolling his eyes yet again as he ran a hand through his hair. "You sound entitled, princess."

"I sound entitled?" Gods, he was doing it again. He was absolutely getting you fucking going with little to no effort spent. "My dearest apologies, Riddle...I was under the impression that entitlement was believing you can treat people however you like without consequences...silly me."

At your retort, he glimpsed you, pausing all his movements as a sly grin crawled across his face.

"Giving me attitude already, Raven?" He purred, dark eyes slithering down to your lips, before falling lower to your chest, lingering there for far-too-long before they slowly travelled back up to meet your sight.

Throughout all of that, you weren't sure if you'd blinked once--your pulse increasing to a rate so fast you were certain your heart was about to burst from your chest.

Mattheo moistened his lips, his tongue darting out to remove the blood from the split in his lower one.

"...I'd have thought that after our little agreement last week, you'd have come to your senses..."

He leaned forward in his chair, long fingers curling in on his palms and forming tight fists as he rested his hands on top of the desk--eyes darker than the midnight sky as he studied your tensing reaction.

"Would you like to start over? Or perhaps, that filthy fucking mouth of yours needs to be taught a lesson?"

You swallowed, something in your lower abdomen tingling at this words. You shook your head, dropping your eyes to your lap. "I'm sorry."

His eyes lit up. "What was that?" The sadistic arrogance in his tone made you want to scream. "I didn't quite catch what you said."

Your jaw clenched, teeth gritting--Gods, how you wanted to tell him to goto hell; to kick rocks and get the fuck out and never come near you again--but you knew you would never, and could never do such a thing. Instead, you inhaled a sharp breath in through your nose, before slowly releasing it, shooting him the best fake smile you could possibly muster.

"I said, I'm sorry." Your voice was tight, tone as sharp as glass. "Now, can we begin? You're already-"

"No." He said flatly, cutting you off. "I don't accept your apology. I think you need to get on your knees-"

Your jaw dropped at his words, and you involuntarily slammed your hands down on the wooden surface in front of you as you stood up, leaning across the desk towards him. After all these months of sticking your neck out for him, going out of your way to tutor him and attempt to teach him some form of educational material to at least help him fucking graduate on time--he's really going to sit there and degrade you like a piece of shit under his shoe just because you retaliated against his arrogant attitude?

Not going to fucking happen.

"Cut the shit, Riddle." You hissed, leaning down to meet his dark, intoxicating eyes. "You may be in charge here, and I may need you in ways that are entirely taxing to my mental state...but just as much as I need you--you need me, too...so how about you show me some fucking respect?"

At your words, Mattheo's confident facade wavered, only-slightly, his dark eyes widening with surprise as your words pierced through his stoic composure. Blinking, he considered your defiance for a fleeting moment before abruptly standing up, as well--his face, which was usually a mask of calculated control, portrayed a mix of curiosity and smug arrogance.

As he rounded the desk and approached you, his eyes locked onto yours; unyielding and intense--making your entire body freeze in place. The room seemed to hold its breath, the charged silence amplifying the tension between your bodies, as if the very air crackled with anticipation of what would unfold next, your shoulders slouching as he stopped in front of you, tall frame towering over you.

And then, his perfect fucking lips curled into a sly smile.

"Respect? Oh, I respect your desperation, Raven...that's about it..." his voice was slow, calculated, and of course; sadistic. "It would do you well to remember that in this little alliance of ours, I hold the key to your entire fucking future...so, perhaps a little lesson in humility is what you truly need, hm?"

He brought a battered hand up to your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his head tilting as his dark eyes studied the movement of his fingers.

"How about you show me just how much you respect me...and maybe, just maybe, I'll consider playing nice, yeah?" He paused, his fingers lingering against your skin. "Until then...it seems as though you're at my mercy, little girl."

Your fingers quivered at your sides, your heart pounding in your throat, but you were resolute in not allowing him to win so easily. Despite his immense power over you, giving in without a fight wasn't an option you were willing to entertain. It was times like these where your brash, unyielding nature was both a curse and a source of strength, propelling you toward your demise.

"Not if I goto Dumbledore first..." you whispered, glimpsing his lips. "Not if I tell him that you were entirely uncooperative...defiant...wouldn't be that hard to believe, considering your troublesome track record..."

He huffed, fingers trailing from behind your ear and running along your jawline, his lips parting as he stared, lost entirely in his own little world--until he blinked, meeting your eyes.

"And how would that look on you, Raven? As a future Professor..." he murmured, leaning closer. "Don't you think it would look rather...perturbing, that you weren't able to get me under control? That you weren't able to find some sort of compromise to ensure my cooperation?"

His rugged fingers trailed along the contour of your jaw, finding a firm hold at your chin and sliding underneath it, his thumb caressing your cheek with a touch that held both tenderness and threat. A lump formed in your throat, your lips parting in sheer exasperation as his eyes darkened, their intensity sending shivers down your spine. Your entire body quivered under his grasp as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing your temple.

"You're shaking, Raven..." he purred, hot breath washing over your face as he used his grip on your chin to tug you closer. "Why so nervous, hm? What happened to all that fire you had?"

Your voice faltered, barely a whisper, as you tried to find words under the weight of Mattheo's power.

"I...I'm just..."

You hesitated, unable to meet his intense gaze, your words trailing off into a nervous silence. The sheer dominance he exuded left you speechless, your heart racing, and you struggled to articulate your thoughts, feeling completely overwhelmed and out of your depth.

Mattheo's lips curled into a subtle, self-assured smile as he sensed your growing vulnerability. His eyes, dark and smoldering, held a predatory gleam, and he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath grazing your skin as he revelled in the palpable effect he had on you.

"This vulnerability...it suits you, I must admit..." his voice was a low, seductive murmur, pulling back to meet your eyes. "Don't worry, little Raven...I won't bite...unless you ask me to, of course..."

With an amused huff, he shifted, his lips brushing over your ear, and you pulled your lip between your teeth to restrain a whimper as you felt his free hand move, long fingers ghosting over the fabric of your skirt as he grazed your hip.

"Mattheo, I-" your body reacted in a way you hadn't anticipated, utterly frozen under Mattheo's commanding presence. Desire coursed through your veins, a mixture of fear and a thrilling, unfamiliar attraction, and you struggled to string together a sentence. "I've never-"

"Never what, princess?" He purred, voice reverberating as a deep hum, the seductive pitch doing inexplicable things to your body. "Don't be shy..."

As his grip on your hip tightened, your lungs stalled, a small gasp slipping past your lips; and as though you'd somehow snapped Mattheo out of a hypnotic trance, he pulled back--his widened obsidian eyes meeting yours.

"Holy fuck, Raven, are you a fucking virgin?" His voice was barely above a whisper, the husk of it sparking fire through your veins. "You haven't even kissed someone, have you?"

Embarrassment flooded you, a heat hot enough to melt the Arctic. When you nodded, almost impenetrably; his stare intensified, the excitement practically radiating from his flesh.

"Shit...I'm going to fucking ruin you..." Mattheo's fingers tightened around your jaw, once again tugging you closer--your heart stalled as he crouched down slightly, bringing himself eye-to-eye with you, his face mere centimeters from yours. "That's what you want though, isn't it? I see the way you look at me...I feel the way your body responds to me...even when you fucking despise me..."

Mules of power coursed through Mattheo's fingers as his hand left your hip, snaking around your waist as his eyes scanned your features--watching every single ministration of your face as though he was afraid you'd disappear; as though he'd miss something if he blinked.

"You want this," he whispered, his breath hot against your face. "You've been aching for it ever since we first met...admit it."

Your adrenaline surged. You knew you were playing with fire here, but you couldn't control yourself.

"Don't flatter yourself, Riddle..." you murmured, voice unsteady. "Unlike you I actually harbour a modicum of self control."

Upon your utterance, Mattheo's entire demeanor shifted abruptly--something dark and unsettling creeping behind his eyes. His grip tightened aggressively, applying force with enough intensity to leave bruises.

"There's that mouth again." He growled, his tone dark and rough. "You just can't fucking help yourself, can you?"

You snuffed a gasp as his fingernails dug into your skin, the intensity radiating off his flesh.

"You think you're so fucking smart, hm? Little good girl, top of the class, never stepping out of the lines..." he tilted his head, leaning closer, mouth so close to yours you could practically taste the blood seeping from the cut on his lip. "I'm going to have so much fucking fun with you, Raven...we'll see just how smart you are when you’re on your fucking knees for me like a dumb little whore..."

Your breath was hardly filtering, lungs sputtering. "Mattheo-"

He shifted your body, shoving your ass back against the desk as he pressed himself against you, one hand behind your neck with the other tightly gripping your hip; eyes drunk on a dark hunger--one that intoxicated you without effort.

"That's what I want, Raven...I want you on your knees for me every single week...and in exchange, I'll pay attention to your dumb lessons and make sure I pass...the second I fail to do just that, it all stops, okay?" His voice was tight, focused, but serious--as serious as you've ever fucking heard him. "I won't tell a fucking soul about any of this, and I know you won't either...both of our reputations depend on it..."

Gods, you fucking loved this, even though admitting it felt like peeling away layers of denial--but deep down, you knew the truth, even though it clashed with your feelings of utter disgust and irritation towards Mattheo Riddle. Something about the images swirling inside your mind as you thought about it, thought about the mere prospect of having him at your mercy, his pleasure intertwined with your control, stirred a complex mix of emotions within you.

It was as if a forbidden fascination had taken root, coaxing an unexpected excitement from the depths of your being. If surrendering to this unconventional desire meant he would finally invest effort in your tutor sessions, you found yourself reluctantly willing to explore this uncharted territory.

But not before teasing him a little.

"Don't you have enough girls on their knees for you, Riddle?" You whispered, fingers clutching the desk for dear life. "Do you really need that from me?"

He huffed, amused. "Sure, but those girls expect something from me in return...with you, it'll be all about me and what I fucking want..." he purred, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. "I have no interest in taking your virginity, Raven...you can save that for your wedding night, or whatever the fuck it is you're waiting for...I just want those pretty fucking lips...I just want to finally put that annoying mouth of yours to good use..."

Your entire body was vibrating, every word from his mouth did something foreign to you lower abdomen--something you'd never felt nor experienced before. There were so many emotions pummelling through your veins right now; from desire to irritation to defiance to submission--every one melding inside your mind and rendering your mouth utterly mute. You had no idea what to fucking say.

Until Riddle leaned in, closer, his lips brushing over yours. "Do we have a deal?"

You swallowed, your sight flickering from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips, examining all the small cuts and bruises and scars he had peppering his skin. When you nodded, he tightened the grip on the back of your neck, forcing a squeal from deep in your throat.

"Words, Raven," he said sharply. "Use them. I want to hear you say it."

You weren't breathing, you wondered how the fuck you were even conscious. "Yes," you whispered. "We have a deal."

Mattheo exhaled. "Fuck..."

In the span of a single breath, his lips found yours, soft and yielding--conveying a desperate, yet gentle craving. You became a candle, his touch a flame, liquefying you from the core, heat spreading through your every fiber, reaching down to your very toes. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, immersing you in a passionate embrace that seemed to defy time itself.

Your mind spun in a whirlwind of realization: this was your first kiss, an intimate moment shared with a boy you openly despised. His lips bore the remnants of alcohol and cigarettes, a taste accentuated by the faint hint of blood. He desired you for a singular purpose, and you saw him merely as a means to solidify your post-graduate fate. Despite the inherent wrongness of the situation, you couldn't summon the care to stop it, succumbing to the inexplicable pull between you two.

His low growl echoed in the charged air as his tongue danced with yours, emboldening you. Your fingers threaded through his thick, curly hair, exploring the contours of his mouth. Meanwhile, his hand roamed up your thigh, tracing your curves until it found the top of your uniform. With a firm grip, he pulled at the fabric, and then, shifted his hand to your wrist, directing it toward the insistent bulge in his pants.

As your fingers grazed it, something surged through you; something suffocating, something intoxicating--and involuntarily, you moaned into his mouth.

"Shit..." he breathed, grip on the back of your neck intensifying. "You feel that, Raven? That's all for you..."

Your breath was shaking, your lungs on fire. You had no idea what was happening to you, you had no idea what you were even thinking, let alone saying--a haze of pleasure and adrenaline and arousal was clouding your cognitive capacity, words spilling from your lips without thought as you squeezed the outline of his dick.

"You're so big..." your voice was a whisper, lesser even. "I-I don't think I'll-"

"You will," his voice cracked, cutting you off, already knowing what you were about to say.

With a smirk, he stepped back slightly, using the hand behind your head to gently guide you toward the floor, a silent yet compelling command. When you met his eyes, a clear nervousness in your expressions, he smirked.

"Don't worry Raven, I'll go easy on you for your first time..." he whispered. "Unlike you, I'm actually a patient teacher."

When you finally landed on your knees in front of him, his fervent fingers moved to his belt, swiftly undoing the latch and tugging his trousers mid-way down his thighs. His eyes never once left yours, his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as he moved to his boxers next; finally freeing his thick, throbbing length, the veins in his hand tensing as he wrapped his fist around its girth, his mouth falling open in relief.

Your stomach twisted, your entire body fucking screaming at the sight. "Holy fu-"

Your words were cut short as his hand thrust through your hair, fingers entangling through your soft strands, cranking your neck back slightly to meet his eyes again, slowly fucking into his fist as he watched you; examined you.

"What would your friends think of this, huh?" His voice was hoarse, arrogant, and of course, sadistic, like always. "Little good girl Ravenclaw on her knees for the big bad Slytherin fuck up...it's almost poetic, isn't it?"

Your fingers trembled, and you clutched the fabric of your skirt for dear life. "Are you going to let me suck it or are you going to hold me here all day instead?"

"Eager little thing you are," he huffed, smirking; jaw tensing and throat bobbing as he swallowed. "Drop your jaw, princess."

As you did what he said, he hummed in satisfaction, directing the head of his throbbing cock past your lips, hissing through his teeth as the wet warmth of your mouth enveloped his shaft, involuntarily gagging as he continued to push into throat until your hands shot up to his thighs, silently pleading for a mere second to adjust to his size.

"Use your hands then, Raven..." his voice was a breathless whisper, fingers tightening their hold on your hair. "Unless you want me to fuck that filthy throat of yours."

You glanced up at him, his appearance doing inexplicable things to your cunt, undeniably at this point--and you wrapped your hands around the base of his shaft, twisting and stroking as you moved your mouth against the remaining length--suctioning your lips around him, eyes watering and cunt clenching as he groaned, head falling back and lids fluttering shut.

"Mm...that's it..." he muttered, using your hair like reigns to direct your head. "Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be an uptight little bitch..."

You hummed in assent, pressing your wet tongue against the throbbing underside of his cock. Your heart was beating out of your chest, thighs clamping in lust--even though he was being a sadistic asshole per usual, and there was not one part of this you should be enjoying--you couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, the unfamiliar desire that was growing in your lungs only intensified with every deep, breathless groan that left Mattheo's lips.

You dropped your hands, taking more of him now, slowly but surely, and you tried your best to ignore the pain that Riddle was inflicting on your scalp; his cock twitching more insistently between your lips with each passing second. Cranking your neck back, he slowly started fucking into your throat, groaning as he'd almost entirely pulled out, and you tightened your lips around his girth, wanting to trap him.

"So fucking good, Raven..." he huffed, and eased in again, holding your head in place, watching as his length disappeared into your mouth. "Are you sure this is your first time? Shit-"

His voice was heavy with pleasure, igniting a thunderstorm of arousal on your skin, growing more intense with each second his eyes were on you--his breathing grew heavier as your lips and tongue worked in unison, the sheer hunger in his gaze nearly palpable.

"Look at me," he muttered, cranking your neck back further, thrusting deeper. When you met his eyes, your thighs screamed in need. "Good girl...just like that..."

Mattheo's hips moved quicker, his groans of pleasure filling the room. Sparks were buzzing over your skin, air squeaking into your nose, tears welling in your eyes as he thrust into your throat again and again. His gaze was trained on you, his breath coming in shorter bursts the faster he moved.

"Fuck..." he sputtered, fingers bruising your scalp. "Far better use for that filthy mouth..."

You gagged, swallowing against him, and he yanked your head back further; entirely losing himself and any ounce of his self control in the heat of your throat as he neared his peak. You worked your tongue along the underside of his dick, pulling your lips in over your teeth, a quiet groan leaving him as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him.

"You look so good taking my cock..." he said. "You don't know how many times I've imagined doing this to you-fuck...every time you gave me attitude...shit..."

A moan rumbled through you, spurred on by his words, and his head fell back, breath sputtering in his lungs as he squeezed his eyes shut; fingernails digging into your scalp as he held you in place, hot jets of his release shooting down your throat without warning. You panted against his dick, swallowing every last drop of his cum without complaint, and when he finally released you--slowly tucking himself away, he stared at you with an astounded expression on his face, chest heaving.

As you wiped the drool off your chin with your sleeve, you slowly peeled yourself off the floor, meeting his intense eyes--which were still staring at you as he did up his belt.

"What?" You said, anxiously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He blinked, throat knocking as he swallowed. "I'm just trying to figure you the fuck out." He said. "You took my cock and swallowed my cum better than some of the sluttiest whores in this school have..."

Your face burned, entire body tingling as you readjusted your uniform. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all, Raven." He huffed, throwing himself into the chair next to yours. "Think you just needed a bad boy like me to give you permission to finally let loose, yeah?"

"Permission?" You cocked an eyebrow, taking a seat next to him. "I'd think not, Riddle."

"Denial is a river in Egypt, princess." He sneered, that devilish smirk teasing his lips per usual. "You have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into. Better hope you don't get attached...I promise, I'm nothing but bad news..."

Your rolled your eyes, straightening out in the chair and flipping open the textbook to the appropriate chapter.

"Believe me, I won't."

——————

Chapter three->

[xxsycamore]

╰┈➤ When you discover a mysterious hole in a restroom inside the Crown castle, you're ready to catch the ill-doers of whatever forbidden exchange is taking place and take them straight to Victor. Little do you know, your curiosity would lead you to give more and more of yourself to that ridiculous cause, night after night. And you might just end up enjoying it.

— William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Ellis, Jude, Roger, Victor x f!Reader

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Glory Hole; Anonymous Sex; Corruption; Hand Jobs; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Come Eating; Come Swallowing; Deepthroating; Masturbation; Dirty Thoughts; Smoking; Objectification; Overstimulation; Penis Size; Multiple Orgasms; Ruined Orgasms; Vaginal Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Size Difference; Large Cock; Creampie; Breast Fucking; Dirty Talk; Squirting/Vaginal Ejaculation • wordcount:  5,836 • masterlist

a/n: I've had this idea for a while now and here it is, finally. One of the longest smuts I've written and definitely one that I'm proud of. Enjoy!

⏮ ⏯ ⏭ NIN - The Wretched

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 2: Glory Holes

NINE NIGHTS. 

Among the many things you've been warned about when you first started living at the castle, you couldn't help but be curious the most about one thing. That infamous communal restroom located at the very end of the left wing's top-floor corridor. Remoted and basically isolated from the lively parts of the castle, if it weren't for the obscene rumor Alfons shared with you, you might not have discovered such a place exists at all. Actually, you're still not convinced if it truly exists. It's all too much like the hedonistic bastard to mess with your head like that.

That's why you're on a mission to do a little investigation on your own.

Arriving at the dimly lit location, your anticipation is flattened by the lack of anything obscure to be found. The restroom hardly differs from the ones you've seen around the place: well-maintained and designed accordingly to match the elegant style of the castle. One side is for the ladies, the other for the gentlemen; two different entrances, a wall separating them right in the middle.

You don't know why you even bother going as far as peeking an eye inside the stalls, but nothing appears to be amiss there as well.

Apart from one thing.

You nearly missed it in the sparse light, but the cut-out hole in the wooden wall inside the second stall stands starkly against the otherwise well-polished surface of it.

Suddenly it all clicks, and you remember Alfons' words.

"Rumor has it that around eleven in the evening, people go there to partake in rather... scandalous exchanges. Both parties are provided with anonymity and everything that takes place inside the restroom stays there. We might be a modest group of inhibitors here, little Robin, but everyone has their needs. We don't judge which part of the partition you choose to be on."

This has to be about drugs! As outrageous as it is, it perfectly explains the hole - large enough to serve for the purpose of one such "exchange", the wooden wall in-between separating provider and client.

You chose to linger around here just early enough to be able to leave without witnessing what does - or does not - happen in the established hour, and just close enough to it in case if, for some reason, you'd want to stay and find out for yourself. This means you can perfectly well remain waiting in the stall, catch the culprit red-handed, and take him straight to Victor. You're sure he knows nothing of this, it can't be otherwise.

1.

You don't have to dwell in your thoughts for much longer, because in the perfectly tranquil air around you, you're able to pick up the soft noise of the door opening on the other side. Readily, you prepare to grab hold of whatever is inserted through the hole and see if your hunch is correct.

Little do you know, the sight will make you reconsider at once. You blink your eyes several times when you look down.

It takes you everything not to scream, barely being fast enough to clasp a hand around your own mouth, as soon as you realize what you're looking at.

Whoever is on the other side of the restroom is currently giving access to a certain part of themselves, and by the way it stands erect and demanding attention, you can imagine just one possible scenario of what the person on your side of the partition is expected to do with it.

The breath hitches in your throat. Will you be found out if you were to exit right now? Even if you won't be seen, even if anyone else could have been here, in your place…

A very dangerous thought fills your head, and you know listening to it should be the last thing you do. Still, for the sake of getting to the bottom of this and not disrupting any of it just yet, you start to think it might not be that bad if you just…

Hesitantly, your hand reaches out until your fingertips can almost graze the very tip of the cock in front of you. Eyes falling closed for a second, nine different faces flash through your mind. Nine possibilities. It's as if this changes everything between you and the mysterious man on the other side, when in reality it changes nothing at all. You think back to your fellow Crownmates, as if trying to see if the thought of any of them pushes you away, but to no avail.

You might have lost your mind. Fingers slowly curling around the hot flesh in front of you, the initial contact is far easier than you thought. You start pumping the hardness in your fist right away, noting the way it slightly swells in your hand, despite already seeming quite aroused.

The slight tremble of your fingers is perhaps a welcomed side-effect of the adrenaline coursing through your system, as the cock in your hand is very receptive to your actions. You wonder to yourself if the person on the other side is used to this sort of thing. Or maybe it's his first time here too, his curiosity getting the better of him. Just like you, in a way. However, he's clearly being able to get off on that thrill. It must be contagious because you become bolder with your movements and your eyes are no longer shy to the sight in front of you. It's embarassing not to be able to take your eyes away, but you can't help it - there's something so fine about it; the size and shape of it, the saturated pink color of the glossy tip, the small bud of precum threatening to spill over with excitement on the next enthusiastic throb…

In just a couple more strokes, the object of your admiration closes the spectacle with a rather grandiose final act… The vigorous spurts of its culmination leave a milky-white trail down the crevices of your fingers as you marvel at the sheer amount he came.

Giving him one last base-to-top stoke, nice and slowly, you catch yourself being so captivated by the obscure display that you're almost disappointed when it all ends and you snap back to reality.

Time to splash some cold water on your face.

2.

The sound of a grandfather clock announcing eleven in the evening is coming from afar but you still hear it without mistake. You've found yourself in this cursed place again, albeit with hesitation. Going back to the events of last night leaves you with mixed feelings. For one, you swear you're being fooled with. Is this Alfons' sick idea of having fun? Luring you to some shady place, provoking you to commit unspeakable acts… You bet there are no other parties even involved in this to begin with. Who knows what the hole really is for, but to use it the way he did… it truly takes an unhinged imagination, you have to admit. Now you just have to find him back at the scene of the crime - God knows they always come back - and this time you won't be so generous. It's not exactly a plan that you have but you'll do something, anything.

Still, you can't help but notice there was something off about last night's mysterious visitor. He didn't quite strike you to be anything like Alfons. Not that you want to spend too much time thinking about what he's supposed to be like down there, or the specific mannerisms you can tell him by, or…

Suddenly there's movement and you hold your breath in anticipation as you prepare to look down.

This is…definitely not the same cock.

This can't be.

Without thinking much, you grab a hold of the sizeable appendage as if to explore it more. Maybe the limited light is playing tricks on you.

Your thumb grazes a slightly protruding vein on the side, something you might have missed yesterday, or you might have not. Though the visual difference is becoming less and less the more you overthink it, the feeling of it in your warm palm is notably different. You don't even know how you get on your knees, but you try to make the most of the new angle.

The stranger, whoever he might be, seems to enjoy the way you're fooling around, much to your own surprise. Almost as if he wants to encourage you to explore more, to do whatever you want. Soon enough it becomes awkward to just examine him like that when he's probably here to feel pleasure. Even in your stubbornness to recognize him as the man from last night, you start stroking and massaging the girth in your closed fist. Stimulating the sensitive skin on the head makes it pulse so tantalizingly, and running the fingertip of your other thumb down the protruding vein almost tips him over the edge…You don't mind this reaction. What's more, you pretty much want to finish what you started.

Unexpectedly, the length of the stranger's cock retracts almost completely back inside the hole with just its head sticking out. The sturdy repetitive motion indicates that the man is taking care of himself while still giving you access to the product of his upcoming climax.

What does he want you to do with his cum? Does he want to paint your open palms white, or maybe if he could say so, he would prefer to color your lips white with his come?

The moment he finishes with what seems to be a glorious orgasm, your sticky fingertip has almost made it to your mouth in a rush of curiosity. You have no idea what's the use of doing something like this when he won't even be able to see it.

During your haze, you think you see a painted glossy red fingernail as you watch the cock of the stranger disappear.

You must be imagining things.

3.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

You guess that the third time is saved for the shameless.

This is exactly what you are, as you find yourself kneeling on the cool tiles on another late night. The initial shock of finding yet another unfamiliar piece of flesh left at your disposal is washed away by the growing sense of thrill that you're starting to get familiar with, more with each passing night. Combined with just a little bit of "since you're already here".

You wonder how fast can you make this one cum. All this time and you're yet to use your mouth, maybe now is a good chance to try it.

Thankfully the other side knows nothing of the fever rising up to your cheeks. Not feeling eyes on you helps you be bolder with your actions, and you feel like an absolute tease. Once you pop the well-formed head in your mouth, your tongue shows no mercy to the painfully erect cock.

A few agonizing slow licks across the length of it seem to be the last straw for the stranger. But not in the sense you're expecting.

In a flash, your mouth is left to hang open and empty; like a lollipop's been taken away from you. A cold shiver runs through you. Did you go too far? Was it not to his liking?

You're not yet fully seated back on your knees in confusion before he gives you a "second chance". Almost as if you're starved, you hurry to take him in again, saliva overflowing from the corner of your mouth and lubricating him for some earnest bobbing of your head. You're going to pleasure him properly this time.

Except, this leads to the same result.

The pause is shorter now, and you get the impression that he's toying with you. Does he want you to please him, or does he not? Which one is the truth?

You fall for his tricks time and time again, because you just can't help it. Awaiting for him to stick his cock back into the hole is rather humiliating but each time your mouth salivates more with the eagerness to welcome him deep inside. He only stills when he's noticeably on the verge of orgasm, and you take him as deep as he lets you. You're a bit tense at this point - should he snap his hips and thrust further in, you're likely to choke on him.

Drinking down on every last drop of his come, you don't know why you're so relieved that his last gesture was not a lie. You just know that you're left to yourself once again. And the whole ordeal has made you horny.

4.

Another day passes in your busy life as a fairytale keeper.

Most of the missions you're assigned are fast-paced enough to keep you fully occupied; senses being constantly put to the test, mind projecting gruesome pictures you've seen through the day and turning them into words at the end of it, once you sit in front of your typewriter.

Yet there are those little pockets of time when the world slows down for you and your fellow Crown members. Traveling from location to location; gathering in the foyer waiting for Victor… It's easy to zone out.

Your gaze moves from Liam's pretty lips curling in a small laughter as he conversates with Harrison, to Harrison stretching out while he listens; to Elbert's tall frame as he looks out the window next to them, to Alfons staring at him, putting one leg over the other as he stirs the steamy liquid in his cup. Which ones? Which ones of them have visited that place? You have very little to go off of. Someone's hand enters your field of vision. Delicate, long fingers drumming against a hard surface. You dart your gaze to another. Roughened palms. And another. Concealed by dark gloves.

Skin textures. Shoe sizes. Limbs stretching out.

It's not until someone asks you if you're alright - "You've been terribly quiet all this time!" - that you shake off your inappropriate thoughts and scold yourself for having them in the first place.

The next time you find yourself in the stall, you're almost glad to give head to someone who's clearly cutting to the chase. There's not much shuffling or repositioning from the other side of the partition, and you're able to focus on the weight in your mouth.

Tonight's stranger is no less well-endowed but you'd say he's a little more on the thicker side compared to your previous experiences. Accidentally grazing him with your teeth makes you hear an annoyed single stomp of a shoe against the floor tiles on the other side. This only motivates you to do better, and you truly do your best sucking him off.

Your ears pick up something different this time. This quick striking noise reminds you of a match being lit… Even with the task you're focused on, your senses remain sharp, and you swear you can smell cigarette smoke.

Here you are, sucking off some guy while he treats himself to a smoke. Things can't get any cruder from this point on.

But you don't mind it at all. This is of mutual interest for both parties, that's only fair. So you don't think much of it your hand makes its way down south, searching underneath layers of clothing until it finds aching hot flesh, begging to be pleasured.

Getting off to your scandalous adventures has been common practice for you the last few days, but it definitely feels better to claim your pleasure here, at the core moment of it.

The closer you get to your own orgasm, the faster your head moves back and forth. All it takes to send you over the edge is the feeling of hot cum being disposed in your welcoming mouth, and you join him by coming there on the floor, unknown to the stranger.

He loses no time removing his spent cock. You can hear the grinding of a heel as he stamps out his cigarette. And he's gone.

Now you're left to wonder why it feels so good to be used by someone on their smoke break.

5.

Tonight sees you crossing yet another boundary.

Things are going on in a less formulaic fashion, with no hurry at all, and it's not that you're not enjoying it- quite the opposite - but you can't help being curious about something. How bad would it be if you were to gain just a little bit of pleasure for yourself from all of this? Surely you won't be found out if you were to share another piece of yourself with the stranger on the other side different from your mouth and your hands. You're far from the thought that some of the female staff don't know about this place. So you don't hesitate positioning yourself upright and facing the wall, close enough that your body is pressed against it.

You don't ask for much, just to feel that delicious hardness against your swollen folds. The very first contact shoots sparks of pure ecstasy through you. The angry-red tip of the man's cock graces against your clit and you nearly mewl out in pleasure. So you do that again, until you're practically grinding yourself on it like a tool conveniently left for your pleasure.

You'd feel selfish and guilty about this if it weren't for the fact that your actions are getting the stranger off as well. You've already slicked him up with your saliva thoroughly, given him attention which has been enough for others to reach their peak. This one seems to have a rather high endurance, but interestingly no other method of play gets him going the same way as you pleasuring yourself on him. Is this what he wants? You're afraid you're not able to stop now, at least not until you cum. Which happens all too soon, with your legs shaking from overstimulation as the cock underneath you remains swollen and upright and poking your folds again and again while you try to catch your breath.

And then he cums. Just like that, without assistance from your side… Or maybe it's your pleasure that did it for him? This is a strange one, for sure… But you like him.

6.

The cock you're currently stoking with both hands is long and elegant, with a rather pale complexion, further emphasized by the blue-ish veins at the base. You can't help but be gracious with your ministrations as you pleasure it, and surely enough, it doesn't take enough to push the man it belongs to over the edge. He spills thickly in your hands and you kiss the tip of it, careful as not to overstimulate it too much… But when you expect an early end to tonight's rendezvous, it seems like it's far from it. Without any indication of him leaving, you realize he's still pretty much hard. So you resume your actions, albeit timidly at first.

It quickly turns into you full-on sucking him off, seeing that your hands won't be enough anymore. His ample length is a little too much for you to take, so you're relieved once he successfully fills your mouth of his cum, a lot less thicker this time. Except, it's still not over. Such a greedy bastard, exploiting you for greater and greater pleasures each time.

Taking in a large portion of breath and exhaling slowly while you contemplate something, you finally decide to take the next step. You can do what you did last night… but facing the other way around, and maybe, just maybe adding a little bit of penetration to the mix.

It takes little effort nesting him inside your tight core because of how wet you've gotten in the meantime, much to your own surprise. Fine, you can be greedy too. Leaning forward until your palms are flat against the opposite wall of the cramped room, you soon fall into a steady pace fucking yourself back and forth on the man's cock that's once again rock solid and pulsing deliciously inside you.

Despite the high libido of the man, he prefers remaining rather still while you move your hips on him, never breaking his reserved and elegant stance. Huffing out a weary emission of air as you're left to shoulder all of the work, you focus on your own pleasure instead, since you're on the verge of cumming.

Your orgasm is rudely interrupted by the other party's own orgasm as he slips out of you and sprays your aching folds with his emission. Already having taken what he was after, he soon exits your sight, leaving you to your own devices as you finger yourself to a rather unsatisfying orgasm on the floor.

7.

Still holding a grudge from the previous night, your storm in the restroom determined to be as ruthless as you need to be and claim your own pleasure first and foremost.

Little do you know, however, that tonight is going to be another test for you.

You're making yourself familiar with yet another stranger tonight - despite being ready to bet that it's high time you're met with a repeat - as you test the waters on this new shape presented before you. He's thicker than any of the previous men. Hell, he's thicker than anything you've ever seen. The massiveness of it in your hands and how he dwarfs them honestly intimidates you. But you remind yourself of your resolve and decide to remain firm as you slowly take things further with him.

Spending too much time on oral is not a part of the plan as you don't want him coming too soon, but you discover that it has nothing to do with your plans anyway. Fitting him inside your mouth proves to be a challenge, and the pathetic way you just soak him in saliva and withdraw every time you take a little more than his head in your mouth makes you feel embarrassed.

Slowly rising to your feet, you accept that you might have to spend a little more time in here tonight. You hope your legs can take it, as you take off your underwear and stretch yourself open for the big intrusion.

Piercing yourself on his tan cock knocks the air out of your lungs as you feel so, so full of him. Without any option but to take it slowly, you massage and grope at your forms as you try to relax your walls around him as much as you can.

Suddenly the thick knob on the wall which you've been using similarly to the previous two nights becomes rather animated as he withdraws until nearly slipping out of your tight entrance, only to quickly thrust back in. Perhaps he got bored with your excuse of a service so far. Clasping both hands around your mouth, you have no choice but to receive his thrusts, the pace quickly building up, as you have to do your best to remain on your feet. Opting for leaning on the opposite wall instead, you have to choose between balance and keeping your mouth shut, as both prove to be hard to achieve at the same time. The man thrusts in and out of you, without a care in the world, and you don't notice how your hands are sliding further and further down until you're practically bent over the tiny space.

This man is an absolute monster. Time goes by in a haze as you find yourself cumming and again around the thick cock inside you, drenching him in your juices until they begin to run down your legs and onto the tiled floor. His stamina is insane - the fact that he can keep going while you're a wrecked mess is scaring you, and you don't know how much more you can take.

When you can't move anymore to meet his thrusts, thankfully his own pace becomes broken in telltale signs of his upcoming orgasm. You need his cum inside you like a trophy. You worked hard for it.

His load is nothing short of pure virility, copious amounts flooding up your insides and joining the rest of the fluids on the floor in a display of utmost obscenity.

You barely make it to your room on your doe legs.

8.

The previous night left you with a pleasant soreness between your legs and the size you're working with today is too big for you to even think about repeating the same scenario. It's gifted in length; pinkish and with a lot of foreskin. Another new one, much to your surprise. And another absolute monster of a cock.

Since your wrecked pussy is off-limits, you begin to worry about pleasuring this one - especially when you think back to how utterly greedy the last two visitors were.

An idea pops into your head.

You start off with the usual, lubricating the shaft with the wetness of your tongue as you suck, massage and kiss every sensitive spot. And there seem to be plenty of them. It's been some time since you've had such a receptive cock in your hands. It's quite lively with its constant little twitches as you get distracted taking it further in your mouth, almost gagging on its generous length. But enough of that.

Using one hand, you unbutton your shirt while simultaneously stoking the cock in front of you, not wanting to ignore him for a second. Once your breasts are freed, keep your kneeling position but get closer to the wall, hotness rising to your cheeks. Carefully, you guide the large cock to the valley of your breasts.

Another enthusiastic twitch. It's like he falls inlove with your idea right off the bat.

You're happy to see that this works with him to say the least, trying to move your body up and down as you press your breasts together using both hands. The slickness you coated him with provides a nice slide, but for a good measure, you drool down some more of it, watching the erotic display of his cockhead peeking through the gap of your tits on every slide.

Oh, this one is more than enthusiastic. You can tell he won't last much, but you're ready to blame that on the method you use on him more than anything. Is he a boobs man? Would he be just as enthusiastic if you were to let him fuck the crux of your thighs?

"Ahhh! Nghh…"

You freeze for a split second as you swear you hear an audible moan from the other side. Everyone so far has shown so much self-control and was careful as to not let out a sound too loud, and yet this one seems to be unable to hold back.

Needless to say, it motivates you.

You don’t even have to keep going for much longer until the cock between your squeezed breasts erupts and paints your chest white. You lean your head down just a little bit more and you're able to give his angry-red tip a playful lick for goodbye. There's no urgency to satisfying your own need, as you're better off taking care of it in the plush covers of your bed back in your room, for a change. Somehow you're sure that your playmate for the night would have wanted that for you too if he could speak.

9.

With a little over a week's worth of sinful adventures behind your back, you feel the need to take a moment and question how you got here. As scandalous as it is to think that there have been eight different members of Crown visiting that shady place for the same dirty purpose, you strangely find peace in the fact that there's at least one of them you're yet to have come in contact to, in this way.

In this very moment, you're still able to face each one of them individually and not die out of shame, because he could be the one.

So you have to leave it at all. For the sake of your sanity, you have to refrain from going anywhere close to that restroom again.

The cackle of the typewriter dies down as you're ready with the evening's workload of documenting Crown's missions, and now the call of your bed is all too strong to resist. You throw yourself face-first into the soft duvet and realize how cool and nice it feels against your skin. Have you overworked yourself, or is this heat trying to tell you something else? A familiar urge builds up in your lower belly, and you open your eyes just to see the wall clock's hands marking exactly eleven o'clock.

With the material you've gathered from those past days, it should be easy enough for you to find relief on your own. So once your hands slip inside your panties, each finding a point of interest, already soaked in liquid desire, your mind drifts off to a familiar place.

But nothing seems to work. As exciting as everything that has happened to you has been, it's nothing compared to the real thing. Since when you've become like this? A thrill-chaser, being only after what feels good without a care in the world. Much like a certain someone that got you in this mess, to begin with. And now there's a dangerous thought creeping into your head.

It's more of a gamble, to be fair.

Nine nights. The chance of all nine men visiting the hole one after another without a single one of them repeating or skipping is significantly small. Small enough to bet your dignity on it, it seems. Fingers still glistening with juices, you make a bold decision, telling yourself that if anything, you can try and resist touching the final ninth man, should he turn out to be tonight's visitor. 

The hole in the wall is not occupied, and you admit to yourself that you feel disappointed. You're close to turning on your toes and going back to where you came from, but then you hear footsteps approaching, on the other side. Sleek dress shoes, if you're correct. He's taking his time.

Where you expect to find someone's aching hardness, you find an entirely different body part. You stare down in confusion as you see a gloved hand thrust out through the hole.

"I know you're in there. Why so hesitant?"

This is…Alfons' voice.

But why? It's taboo to break anonymity like this, and he's wrong if he thinks that you'd—

"You can remain silent if you wish, of course, given that you can hear me at all. Though I have this feeling that this might be no other than Miss Robin herself."

Your head gets dizzy. How does he...? No, you shouldn’t fall for it.

After a moment spent in silence, he chuckles.

"Of course you won't answer me. If you're wondering why I'm revealing myself, I'd simply tell you that not all of us are ashamed to admit they have needs, little Robin. Why, I'm sure the person supposed to be on your side of the wall must have far greater needs, no? That's why I decided to be generous tonight and offer nothing but pleasure to that lucky individual. Go ahead, I'm lending you a hand."

Clad in a shiny black glove, Alfons' hand makes a sultry come-hither motion at you, and you swear it looks lewder somehow than if he'd left you with something other than his hand instead. Your folds are still dripping, the heat in your lower belly prompting irritating tingles all over. It would be oh-so-easy to lift your skirts and descent right on his ready palm, your pussy already bare as you left your underwear all the way back in your room.

Hesitantly, you approach the wall and do just that, shivering a little at the unfamiliar texture. But unlike the solid slabs of flesh you've taken the previous nights, Alfons' fingers don’t behave. They don't wait to be ridden to completion while you get used to their shape in your insides. Right from the beginning, Alfons zaps and twists his fingers inside you, discrediting the generosity he so fondly talked about just a minute ago. It's exactly what you tried to achieve alone in your bed. But deeper. And so much more relentless. And exactly what you've been missing.

"That's a good girl. You're taking them in so greedily."

The naughty sounds of your juices muffle most of your whimpers as the flat of his palm repeatedly hits against your swollen lips. Even through the glove, he's scarily precise. He aims for your sweet spots and makes you see stars in no time, until you can no longer find meaning in the dirty things he says.

"Aww, are you squirting on me already? Here I was ready to bet you'd need far more than that. Have those gentlemen been neglecting you? Did you find them rather lacking?"

You hear the sound of water hitting the tiles but you pay little mind to it as Alfons keeps grinding his middle and ring fingers against your sweet spot, scratching something inside you that's been tormenting you for a week straight. You have no name for this feeling. You just know that he ruined you from the very beginning, by telling you about this place, by luring you in here.

The only thing you can think about as you succumb to a violent storm of an orgasm is how much better his cock would feel hitting that same place inside you. How long does he intend on keeping you here, if this is how you start out? The whole night? Would he want to make you do something perverse, fitting of his ways? You care little about that as pleasure spreads all over, making you feel so light.

You immediately get down on your hands and knees, a wicked idea on your mind already, as you're ready to deviously entice him by licking his digits clean. But they disappear before you get the chance to, making you almost whine at the loss. Your pussy still throbs, so well taken care of, yet so neglected at the same time.

"Now, wouldn't you like to finally see for yourself? If I'm one of them, I mean. The ones you've already seen here before."

Blinking your eyes, you feel the weight of his words coming down on you. You've completely forgotten about that at this point.

Even without being able to see him, just being able to pin a name to the person behind the wall makes you imagine everything so clearly. The facial expressions you've seen him do, how he reacts to certain things. The piercing stare of those dead fish eyes when he knows he's right.

"Too bad I'm not in the mood for that tonight. I guess that leaves you no choice but to come here again if you truly want to find out the answer to that question, no?"

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Love Bites: Eddie Munson x Reader

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Description: You and Eddie are cuddling in bed, when you get the sudden urge to bite him. He's surprised, at first. But it turns out, he likes it...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Smut, female reader, biting, grinding, unprotected sex, jealousy, light crying

Word Count: 2.1k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Love Bites

You're laying in bed, cuddling with your beautiful boyfriend Eddie. He's got his arms around you, and your head rests on his bare chest. You hear his heart beating steadily, counting the beats in your head. You stroke his chest lightly, making him sigh. He's dressed only in pajama bottoms, while you're in a tank top and shorts. You both have the day off from work, and want to stay in bed as long as possible. You've got the TV turned on to reruns of cartoons, you both love them even if others find it childish. They're comforting to you both, as you've been through a lot until you met each other.

Eddie kisses the top of your head and plays with your hair. This moment is pure bliss for you, just being here with the man you love. And he loves you just as much. There are times where you find yourself feeling jealous, though. Eddie plays a lot of shows with his band, and all the girls that come to watch always drool over him. He never entertains their interest, but the thought of any woman going after what's yours makes your blood boil. You can't help it, you care about Eddie so much. He's your endgame, nobody else compares. This primal feeling of possessiveness overtakes you, you want to claim Eddie as yours. You lift your head slightly, and bite down into Eddie's chest.

"Ouch! What the fuck!?" He pushes you off of him for a moment, taken aback by what you just did. Your cheeks go bright red and you're embarrassed for acting so stupid. He cocks an eyebrow at you, concerned about where that came from. "What was that for, Y/N?" He questions.

"I-" You try to find the words, but it takes a bit longer than you'd like. "I just...couldn't help thinking about all those girls that lust over you at your shows. I know it's stupid, but you're mine. I don't like when people look at you that way, only I should be doing that." You look down at your hands, you're sure he'll think you're being ridiculous. He lifts your chin with his finger, making you meet his gaze again. He smiles kindly at you.

"Sweetheart, it's not stupid. But there's no reason to be jealous. I don't even think about those girls. If anything, I lead them in the direction of my bandmates, they can use all the help they can get." He laughs lightly. You giggle too. "I promise you have nothing to worry about." He grabs your hand to hold in his, he squeezes it lovingly. "On another note," he smirks. "I gotta say it's pretty hot that you're so concerned. It shows me that you really care. And that bite spooked me at first, but it also got me a little hard, love." Your eyes widen, of course he'd find you biting him to be sexy. Eddie thinks everything you do is sexy. "Come here, darling." He motions for you to straddle him as he sits up against the headboard. You do as he asks, positioning your core over his hardening cock. You feel yourself beginning to get wet just from feeling him between your thin layers of clothing. You moan quietly, and Eddie takes that as a sign to begin assaulting your neck.

"Eddie." You whimper. Your hands go into his hair, tugging roughly. He groans in response, and begins biting your neck. You start grinding your hips against him, your pussy getting wetter with each motion. Small moans and grunts fill the room, and Eddie leaves a treasure trove of hickies all over you. His mouth detaches from your neck so he can inspect his handiwork, nodding his head when he's satisfied.

"Fuckin' beautiful." He almost whispers, looking into your eyes again. His own blaze with lust, wide and wild. He grabs your face, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You return the kiss with equal desperation, and he bites your bottom lip. You gasp, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. You don't even bother fighting Eddie's tongue with your own, he always wins that battle. You just let him take you over, his hands drop to your hips as you continue kissing. He grips you roughly, digging his ringed fingers into your sides. You're bound to have bruises, but you couldn't care less. In fact, you look forward to seeing them in the mirror later, remembering how Eddie gave them to you.

You break the kiss, taking your turn and attacking Eddie's neck this time. "Mine." You lightly growl before you lick a stripe from his collarbone to his jaw. Eddie moans, gripping your hips harder, bucking up into you out of instinct. "Who do you belong to, baby?" You whisper in his ear.

"You, sweetheart." He moans in reply, finding your question unbelievably hot. 

“That’s right, Eds.” You begin sloppily kissing his neck, occasionally biting down to get more delicious noises out of him. You keep grinding against him, working both of you up as you continue to mark him. After a while, you decide Eddie's got enough hickies now, and you bring your face in front of his again. You lean forward, kissing him softly. His hands move off of your hips, groping your breasts through your shirt. You gasp at the contact, breaking away from his lips. Eddie helps you lift your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere across the room. As soon as your tits are bare to him, his mouth takes your right nipple into it. He begins swirling over the sensitive bud with his tongue, and eventually bites down on it.

"Fuck." You whine, fueling his fire. His right hand grabs your other tit, massaging it roughly. You throw your head back, still making friction between you with your hips. You're soaking now, your arousal seeping through your thin shorts. It leaves a small mark on his pajamas. If you keep up like this, you won't last long. Eddie senses that you're coming very close to losing it on him already, and he can't help but love the idea of making you cum when he's barely touched you.

"You gettin’ close already, Y/N? You wanna cum like this?" He asks, stopping his work on your chest. You're still moving on him, and you take a moment to look in his eyes.

"Yes, please. I'm so close, Eddie. Make me cum." You're so fucked for him, waves of pleasure crashing over you, building up into a tropical storm. Every move feels simultaneously like too much and not enough. He smirks at you, and returns to your chest. He makes sure to occasionally buck up into you, bringing you closer to the edge. You're starting to see stars, desperately moving yourself on his lap. Eddie starts biting all over your chest, your tits, your shoulders. And each time he makes contact with his teeth, the waves crash harder and harder. You can't stop moaning his name, and cursing loudly. Sweat coats your skin, making you slippery against him. Eddie grips you tightly to keep you from falling, helping your hips work against his. Whenever he catches your eye, you see that he's fervently waiting for you to cum, watching your every move. Every moan, gasp, and curse drives him wild. He wants to fuck you so badly, but he wants to make you come undone even more.

"You can do it, love. Let it all go for me." He says softly. You feel the hurricane finally wash over you, causing you to scream. Eddie holds you against his chest as your orgasm rocks through you. Your legs shake, hips jolting out of your control. Your shorts are soaked through now, leaving a larger spot on Eddie's pajamas. He continues to hold you, stroking your damp hair as your breathing slowly returns to normal. Your legs still twitch like you've had an electric shock, your cunt pulsating with it. "You were such a good girl for me, Y/N." He kisses your head again. "Do you want more, darling? Or have you had enough?" He asks. You sit up again, meeting his eyes. His own widen slightly when he sees the burning desire in yours.

"I want you, Eddie. Please, fuck me, I need you."

"Anything for you, princess. Take your shorts off for me." You stand up off the bed to rid yourself of your shorts. Eddie smiles wide when he notices you have nothing underneath them. He kicks off his own pants, also wearing nothing under them. You both take a moment to look each other over, drinking in how gorgeous the other one looks. Eddie breaks his stare, motioning for you again. "C’mere and ride me, sweetheart." You climb back onto the bed, placing your knees on either side of Eddie's hips. You take his length in your hand, pumping it slowly. He groans, placing his hands on your waist. You tease yourself by dragging the head of his dick between your folds, both of you moan simultaneously. But Eddie is too wired from all the grinding to put up with not being in you any longer. "Fuck. Stop teasing me, Y/N." He begs through gritted teeth. You happily oblige his request, sinking yourself down onto him.

"Jesus, fuck." The feeling of him filling you up takes your breath away. You throw your head back, taking a moment to adjust to his size. Eddie's hands caress your waist, patiently awaiting your next move. You lift yourself up, and sink back down again. You gasp when his dick hits your g spot perfectly. You begin to bounce up and down on him, hitting your spot every single time. The sound of slapping skin drowns out the TV. Eddie's nails dig into your sides, feeling your velvet walls clench on his cock.

"You're so fuckin’ tight, Y/N. And so wet for me." His mouth latches onto your neck again, overwhelming you with sensation. "And you're all mine." He bites down hard on your skin, making you cry out.

"All yours, Eddie. Only yours." You try your best to keep up your pace, with Eddie assisting you by thrusting upwards. Your breath hitches every time he does. Your arms are wrapped around him, scratching deep red marks down his back. He groans, releasing your neck from his teeth. "God, I fucking love you Eddie." You feel the waves washing over you again, engulfing your body over and over. You're getting close to losing control, and you can tell Eddie isn't far behind you. Your cunt starts to flutter around his dick.

"I love you too, Y/N. Keep going, I can tell you're close. I'm right there with you, babe." One of his hands reaches between your legs to rub your clit in rapid circles. You moan loudly, his touch setting you on fire. You're both sticky with sweat, whimpering and panting like wild animals. You'll never get tired of being with Eddie, especially like this. He stops rubbing your clit, and grabs your hips again. He starts hammering up into you, driving you over the edge.

"Oh, God. Eddie, I'm gonna-" You're cut off as your orgasm crashes into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. The stars swirl in your vision again, and juices leak out of your pussy and onto Eddie's lap. You're holding onto him tightly as your legs shake uncontrollably. He keeps thrusting, chasing his own high as your walls clamp onto him hungrily.

"Shit. Fuck." He manages to choke out, his own release rolling over him. He cums inside you, thick ropes of white coating your insides. Eddie holds you into his chest again as your highs subside, the sounds of your panting in sync. He strokes your back with his hand, calming you down. Tears are rolling down your cheeks, dripping onto Eddie's chest. He moves you back slightly to look at you, worried he's hurt you. "Darling, are you alright?" Your heart swells at the concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine, my love. You just fucked me too good, I guess." You giggle as you wipe the tears away. He's not sure he believes you, but he accepts your answer for now. He just nods, kissing you lovingly. You move yourself off of his cock, laying in your usual cuddling position again. Eddie pulls the covers back over you, holding you closer than before. You feel so warm and safe and loved when you're with him. If you could never leave this bed again you wouldn't complain, as long as Eddie is always here with you. You slowly drift off into a light sleep, holding onto your man. He follows close behind you, content to have you as his woman.

The end.

[midnight-wildflowers]

Again?

Warnings: mild swearing, fluff.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X F!reader. Previously established relationship

Blurb: you lost your phone and Bucky helps you find it!

“Where is it? where the fuck did I put it?” you mutter to yourself as you look all over your house for your phone “he's gonna kill me!” Pillows were strewn all over the place along with blankets and books in the lounge room. The kitchen had draws half open and cupboard doors half closed. You were a mess, make up half applied hair not even done as you make your way to the bedroom which looked worse than the lounge room and kitchen combine. Clothes all over the floor, your previously made bed looked like 10 people tried to sleep in it and fought over the quilt.

What started this debacle? Well you and Bucky had a date and he told you he would pick you up but you can't remember what time he said. You were half way through getting ready when you second guessed yourself. Your sure he said 7pm but now maybe it's 6:30pm and it's currently 6:15pm. Growling at yourself you realised you can't answer the door looking the way you are. So you quickly finished up your makeup and put on your favourite black dress when you hear a deep voice call out “Doll? Is everything okay?”

“Uh um just a minute” you call out panicked coming out of your room hopping as you put your shoes on.

“What happened? Did someone break in?” Bucky asks concerned looking you over making sure you were okay.

“Um no, please don't be upset I lost my phone again” you say quietly red with embarrassment. You'd lost your phone so often he had threatened to attach an air tag to it or by you a flip phone to ring yourself from. He laughs “again, okay Doll did we retrace our steps?”

“Yes Bucky I did.. 4 times” you dead pan

“Okay, okay” he grins pulling out his own phone and calls yours while you both listen out for it. “It's in the kitchen” he says as you both move closer to the kitchen “Doll, either the fridge has started playing music or that's your ring tone”

You open the fridge and find your phone sitting in place of the cheese when realisation hits you. You got hungry while doing your make up and took your phone with you and accidentally put your phone in the fridge instead of the cheese which was still sitting on the bench. You sigh to yourself and grab your phone and put the cheese away

“How much time do we have before our reservation because I don't wanna leave the house looking like this” you sigh wrapping your arms around his waist

“We have about 30 minutes Doll, you do the lounge room I'll take the kitchen and we can do the bedroom together” he says softly kissing the top of your head and lets you go as he begins closing doors and drawers, while you put the pillows back on the couch and the blankets over the arm of the couch.

You both make your way to your bedroom and your grab all the clothes shoving them in the wardrobe with the shoes while Bucky begins straightening the bed “you ready to go Doll? He asks putting the last pillow in its place

“Yeah let me grab my bag” you say and walk behind the door to grab it “Buck I've lost my phone again” you sigh face palming

He laughs softly “okay I'll cancel the reservation and order take out” you sigh and sit on your bed taking your shoes off and slipping the clip out of your hair. He wraps his arms around you laughing softly “never change doll”

Authors note: Hi everyone I know been awhile since I've written. This story was inspired by me loosing the kitchen bench wipes and talking to a friend and realising I've lost my phone so many times and my fiance just wondering how every single time. My friend did actually lose her phone in the fridge so I thought that was funny! @fandomxo00

[aakeysmash]

okokok, so. idk if you write for megumi, buuuttt:

secret relationship au! between megumi and reader; resulting in them having to reveal the secret because:

"gojo sees through all of megumi’s lies and actually finds out that megumi and reader are dating each other"

(i love coming up with these)

You open your locker after finishing up your training lesson to get some water. You're surprised when a folded piece of paper comes out of it, but you hurry nonetheless to pick it up and make it seem like you dropped something out of your hands instead. You put it in your pocket just in time, because you suddenly feel a strong arm draping over your shoulders.

"Hey, you!"

Looking up you find Yuuji grinning and Nobara just behind him, waving gently at you before smacking the pink haired male on the back of his head. He winces and immediately starts running.

"Learn what it means to give people personal space, you idiot!" she screams, chasing him down the hallway with her hammer in her hand, ready to strike him. You sigh, smiling at their antics.

You turn around to close your locker door, when you find a figure right next to it and you blush.

"Hey," mumbles Megumi, shily lifting a corner of his mouth.

"Hey, handsome," you answer, watching if anyone is near you before kissing him lightly on his cheek. You and Megumi have gotten together quite recently, and you both agreed on not making your relationship known, both for your own peace of mind and for saving the annoyance you'd have to deal with from your friends. You walk beside each other, going toward professor Gojo's classroom while having small talk: he asks you how you're feeling, how training went and what he can do to help your sore muscles feel better.

"Did- did you read the note, by the way?" he asks, avoiding your gaze and scratching behind his red ears.

"Oh, you put that in there? I still have-"

"If it isn't my two favorite students coming in late! Come in, come in!" a booming voice says behind both of you, startling you. You hear Megumi clicking his tongue at the sound of Gojo's nagging, while you resort to chuckle behind your hand. You sit down at your desk, which is the furthest from Megumi's one, when you feel a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at you. A shiver runs up your spine and you realize you've never felt more intimidated, incapable of moving and scrutinized than how you're feeling right now.

"Do you have something to share with the class, Megumi? Maybe something about one of your classmates?" you hear Gojo singing from the teacher's desk. You widen your eyes, your head snapping toward your boyfriend's inscrutable face.

"No, professor."

"Not even the love letter you so graciously wrote to our sweet yn?"

And that's how you're forced to reveal your not-so-secret relationship in front of an overjoyed and jumping Yuuji and a pained Nobara, who not even so quietly tells you that if you ever need a psychologist she knows a good one.

read the tags!! thank you anon for sending me this prompt, it was def out of my comfort zone lol

[starry-eyedblog]

legitimately the only thing I can think of is husband!price coddling his partner, they're all bleary eyed from crying out of desperation for physical touch since he's been deployed for so long- just the pure neediness. needing him there in every way, physically and emotionally. just like him muttering small "'m here, I have you baby" or "feels too good now that I'm back, yeah? gonna take all of me anyways, love"

(the last sentence is nsfw but either way just... the reader being needy for him in every way when he returns home)

- cruel anon

cruel anon hello !! how are you? you're constantly keeping me fed with ideas and i love it. i need price to soothe me in his arms while i cry

warnings/tags: john price x gn reader, crying, clinginess, smut

you've spent most of this month in tears, desperate to be in your husbands arm, safe and sound. for some reason, his latest deployment was taking a real toll on you.

days seemed longer and the house felt too big without him. cooking just for yourself was becoming more difficult and going out to socialise just didn't seem to fill the gap in your chest.

but finally, it was the day he was coming home. you knew that his time home would fly by and you'd be waving him goodbye again, but thankfully he had been given a wee bit longer off this time due to how demanding and rough his latest deployment had been.

you were now waiting in the living room, sipping on a tea anxiously while you waited for the front door to open. any minute now and he'd be kicking his shoes off and sweeping you off your feet in a bear hug.

after around fifteen minutes, you had finished your cup and decided to go pour another. as you stood up from the comfy chair, that's when you heard the swift click on the front door.

you dropped the cup down, uncaring of where it lands as you rushed through the hallway to the front door. tears instantly pooled in your eyes, making your vision a bit blurry but you didn't care. all that mattered was that your husband was finally home again.

"hey honey, miss me?" john chuckles, dropping his bags onto the floor to open up his arms for you - which you happily ran into. he picked you up, squeezing you tightly before gently setting you back down.

salty tears streamed down your face as you pressed kiss after kiss onto his lips and face. after a minute of this, warm hands gently cupped your face, forcing you to stop moving and stare up. "hey, shh what's wrong baby?" john soothes while using a thumb to rub away some tears.

"i don't know, i guess i've just missed you a lot." you sniffle, your hands wrapping around his waist and holding on tight, never wanting to let go. your chest feels light now that your husband is back safe and sound.

john leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, "well i'm here now huh? not going anywhere honey." he whispers and you nod slowly, tears still streaming down your face.

it's been a few weeks since then, and your emotions haven't got much better. you cling to john where he moves around the house, desperate to just be with him. his physical touch always settles you, keeps you happy and calm.

john hasn't minded, he honestly thinks it's cute. you're acting like a needy house cat, and he's more than happy to treat and spoil you. the two of you haven't really gone out to be with friends since he's been back, too wrapped up in re connecting with one another to even think of leaving the house.

completing simple tasks around the house requires him by your side now, and whenever anything get's too much or goes wrong - he's quick to step in and help. you feel like you've struck gold with your husband. most people would find this emotional and physical clinginess too much, but not john.

he understands how hard it must be for you to be home alone for months on end, trying to keep everything together while also making sure you're getting out enough and staying on top of things. he's always well taken care of too when he gets back, you pamper him to the point he doesn't need to lift a finger.

this time though, it's you needing that extra support and closeness and john is more than happy to be there however you need. after all, why wouldn't he? john loves you, deeply.

it becomes even more apparent during sex, the way you cling to him and never want to let go. being able to have his bare skin on you while he fills you up is so comforting. he's surrounding you with his body, voice and scent; to the point where all you can think about is 'john john john john john.'

you cry and moan, gripping onto him while he slowly slides in. his lips are pressed to your ear, whispering filthy things. "feels so good that i'm back, right sweetheart? oh i know i know, c'mon you can take all of it i know you can. s'just been awhile yeah?"

it's emotional and euphoric, the way you tighten around him while tears stream down your face. he loves the sight of you broken before him, so dependant and trusting. it's something he'll never forget for the rest of his life.

the fact you trust him so deeply, letting him pleasure you to the point of exhaustion, still gripping onto him and crying for him. how could any man ignore such a beautiful bond with his wife?

[siffrins-therapist]

👾censoredmandibiles Follow

OK time to settle something

EDIT: this post WAY ended up breaking containment. GO CLUTCH YOUR PEARLS ELSEWHERE

🦑tentacleovi Follow

YO FREE BLOCKLIST IN THE NOTES HOLY SHIT

#RIP OP's notifs #i don't go here but i suggest making popcorn before diving into those notes #some of it is puritan bs you'd expect #some of it is discourse i never even knew existed

41.6K Notes

🕷️friendofcharlotte

I think a painting my friend got at a thrift store was painted by Mr. Italy Veneziano? Is there a way to authenticate it? Google isn't helping.

⭐wishonadeadstar Follow

Try here. Turns out my nan's portrait of her farmhouse was originally painted by Mr. Romano when he was living in NY during the 1920's.

🕷️friendofcharlotte

THANK YOU

8 Notes

📽️bisexuallightinggoggles Follow

hey yo so the US rep put like 100 hours into playing that game Spiritfarer just this week... anyone want to go check on the guy??

💿newagepirate Follow

There are literally government workers who's literal job it is to check on him

⛰️lesbianmothernature Follow

how tf do you know he put 100 hours into playing a game anyway????

📽️bisexuallightinggoggles Follow

We're friends on Steam. He adds like everyone who asks.

And for everyone in the notes asking what Spiritfarer is it's one of those cozy simulator games here's the trailer.

#isn't the 'deathiversary' of his friend Davie this week? #i'm definitely not the first person to think of that #okay looking at the notes was a mistake #like i'm not one of those ppl who puts #'DNI if your username makes fun of davies death' but #immortal or not #even if it happend centuries ago #you can still be sad your FUCKING FRIEND DIED

12.3k Notes

🥾hikingawayfrommyfeelings Follow

So if I become a citizen of Ladonia can he just... visit me through my computer?

🦝trashypanda Follow

He gets mad when you summon him :(

🦘callmejoeythewayi Follow

"summon him" Like a fucking demon?

🫒shrekbignaturals Follow

We are NOT rehashing that old discourse.

🎱magic8saveme Follow

Oh god I just revived my blog after escaping x/twitter and last time I saw that disk hoarse, my dash was just post after post of this for DAYS

🪄magictrio-dropout

#was there actual discourse about whether the nation-people were demons? #cuz the discourse i saw on my dash was #whether tales of things like demons vampires and #other immortal or 'came back to life' creatures #were born from when the nation-people resurrecting #or like #doing creepy stuff

IDK about tumblr or the first bit (I've personally never heard that at least not from anyone being serious) but the other stuff has been debated in academia for decades! One of my literature professors is ADAMANT that the vampire myth can be traced to old folklore about the reps and them reviving and possibly the blood-drinking comes from an evolution of the myth when before, old stories talked about blood soaking the earth where vampires rose. If anyone's interested, here's where you can find my professor's paper about it.

🎃warongayxmas

So like. *grabs a bat and slowly approaches a hornet's nest* Then does the Jesus story have the same roots then?

🫒shrekbignaturals Follow

WE 👏 ARE 👏 NOT 👏 RE 👏 HASHING 👏 THAT 👏 DISCOURSE👏

🥾hikingawayfrommyfeelings Follow

Wtf happened to my post???

#so did OP become a Ladonian citizen or what?

187.4k Notes

🐦‍pinchforawish Follow

MY DAD GOT TO SEE MR ENGLAND LIVE BACK WHEN HE WAS IN A PUNK BAND

🐦‍pinchforawish Follow

TUMBLR WTF HOW TF DOES THIS VIOLATE GUIDELINES

🏴dinotonugget-deactivated

Finally. Proof that the site runs so shittily bc Mr. Eyebrows works for staff

🫎moosecrossing Follow

Spoke the truth and got fucking killed for it

67.9 Notes