#you just make me find it hard to socialize and make friends and learn about stuff that’s not in my interest FoR fUn??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeekyuu · 5 months ago

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stuck. [tsukishima kei x f!reader]

>>Tsukishima is the kind of best friend that makes you want to leave him, but you just can't bring yourself to.

You end up confessing in the middle of a fight and he fucks you to show you how much he really cares.<<

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tags: smut, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, alcohol/drinking, college au, tsukishima kei is a dick, drunk sex, unprotected sex (dont do that), creampie, dom/sub undertones

a/n: ahahahaha this was my first hq work posted on ao3, and it is everything Mean Best Friend Tsukishima Kei that i needed. i hope you enjoy!

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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“Okay, I’m done! How do I look?”

“You look like shit.”

You sigh, trying not to let him get to you.

Tsukki’s always been this way - dismissive, nonchalant, indifferent. Through middle school, he’d been sarcastic. He’d been snarky and brutally honest. And in high school, he’d only gotten worse.

Anyone else in your position might have left him already. People you’d known in school had told you to find someone else, a better friend. Best friends don’t treat each other the way Tsukishima treats you , they’d said. His teammates had been in the habit of scolding him whenever he’d go too far, whenever he’d push your buttons a little too hard. The only one who could see your side had been Yamaguchi, and even he’d had his reservations at times.

But other people don’t know Tsukishima Kei. They know the Tsukki that would refuse to share his notes with you after you’d been out sick. The Tsukki that would steal parts of your lunch and hold it high above your head, far out of your reach, and call you mean names with a cruel smirk. The Tsukki that would often leave you behind after school and head home without you, leaving you to text him and wonder where he’d gone.

They don’t know that the same person would show up at your house with his notes, walking you through calculus and poetry lessons himself because he knows you learn better with a teacher. And, even though you never called him out for it, he would show up the day you’d been out sick, too, just to check on you. Just to watch movies in bed with you, waving off your concerns about him getting sick. He hated being sick, but he would ignore your complaints and force you to relax - because you’d only ever get sick when you overworked yourself, which meant he hadn’t been watching over you closely enough.

They don’t know that Tsukki would secretly swap your lunch out for his own - better, homemade food that wasn’t the cafeteria slop you were often forced to buy because your parents weren’t home a lot. He would watch you push the food around on your tray while you’d laugh at something Hinata had said, identifying at least 3 things you were allergic to on that plate. So he would reach for it, leaving his own (allergen-free, thanks to Akiteru) lunch open for retaliation while he’d use his height as a way to take out his frustrations on you - his irritation that you never seemed to put yourself first, choosing starvation over just simply asking your parents for money before they go out of town.

And the times he’d leave you behind - well, half the time, it had been an accident. It was impossible to remember your packed schedule, all your clubs and student council meetings lumping into a vague ‘ Y/n’s busy ’ block of time in his mind. The other half of the time, it was because he needed to be alone. It’s not that he’s an asshole and loves to make you suffer - in fact, he would often call you later the same night, apologizing in his own, special Tsukishima Kei way and explaining himself. He gets overwhelmed easily, overstimulated by too many people, too many responsibilities, too many social expectations. So he would disappear as soon as he was allowed, needing to be alone with himself and no one else.

So, the people in your life had known a different version of Tsukishima than you do. Where they’d seen a bully, cold and unrelenting even for his best friend, you’d known nothing more than an introvert, expressing his care in a way that was unrecognizable to anyone but you.

Care that had carried over into college, the last three years filled with a Tsukishima Kei that even you hadn’t expected. A version of him that walks you from the library to your dorm at night, despite his increasingly hectic volleyball schedule. A Tsukishima who calls you in the morning on his walk to class to make sure you haven’t overslept, because - even if the calls consist of nothing but your crabby morning disposition, berating him for pulling you from your slumber - he knows you’ll thank him later, as you often do.

A Tsukishima who lets you drag him to parties, even though he hates them to his very core. He lets you tug him along to your dorm, lets you force him to sit through the hour-long ordeal of choosing your outfit. Lets you spin in front of him when you’re done, clearly pleased with yourself, and ask him how you look.

Lets you throw a pillow at his face when he tells you that you look like shit, even if he wholeheartedly believes otherwise.

“Tsukki, can’t you say one nice thing to me? For once?”

He scoffs when you put your hands on your hips, turning his gaze back to his phone as he lounges on your bed like it’s his own. It might as well be, with the amount of time he spends in this room.

“That would require you to have something worth being nice about, wouldn’t it?” He smiles mockingly when he catches the irritated twitch of your eyebrow.

“You’re a dick.”

“Nothing new about that.” Tsukishima watches as you turn back to your closet with a huff, taking the time to look you over appreciatively. No , he thinks, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts and the way your dress hugs your hips, the material tight but soft. His hand itches with the urge to touch it, to find out for himself. It’s not that you have nothing. It’s that you have too much.

He sighs, sitting up, and runs his fingers through his hair.

You have too much, and it’s fucking annoying.

His eyes flick to you again, his own irritation growing. You’d always been too good. Too perfect, too overwhelming. He’d hated falling in love. It had sucked. High school had sucked . Having you cling to him every day and finding himself clinging right back. Not understanding these complicated feelings he has - ones that want nothing more than to hold you in his arms, against others that would tell him to push you away with his sharp tongue, to protect himself from this terrifying feeling.

And now that he’s accepted it - it had only taken him the entirety of high school and at least a year of college - he almost hates it more. Being so close to you and somehow still feeling like he can’t breathe because it’s not nearly close enough.

So he stands, shoving his phone in the pocket of his jeans, and stares you down when you finally turn back to him.

“Can we go? The sooner we get to this stupid thing, the sooner I can go home.” He thinks he sees a flicker of hurt flash across your eyes, but that can’t be it. He’s said worse things before. You always bounce back, a retort on the tip of your tongue for everything he could throw at you. You always match him, blow for blow.

So why, then, can he see your jaw clenching as you turn away from him? Why does he feel like you’re pulling your jacket off the rack with more force than usual? Why are you leaving without responding?

What the fuck ?

Fuck Tsukishima Kei .

It’s the only thought in your mind as you down the shot, wincing as the alcohol slides down your throat. You’d lost count of the drinks you’ve had about an hour ago, when the thought had been something more like ‘ Fuck Tsukishima Kei. Stupid fucking idiot. Never thinks before he speaks ’.

Clearly, you’d mellowed out a little, but the anger is still there, simmering in your chest and threatening to rise every time he gets close to you.

The walk to the frat had been silent, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about your mood, only scrolling through his phone and occasionally glancing over at you. You’d felt the irritation crawling under your skin with every pass of his eyes over you, but you hadn’t returned any of his gazes, only looking forward to getting to the party and being with other people.

But he hadn’t let you wander off so easily, his tall form following close behind as you’d tried to find some of your friends from class. You can tell he’s been trying to silently check on you, like he always does when he knows he’s bothered you.

He’d brought you drinks, only smiling emptily when you’d glared up at him. It shouldn’t have made your heart skip that he’d done nothing more than offered you a drink, tapping his own red solo cup against yours and matching you shot for shot. It shouldn’t affect you when he does the bare minimum.

He’d danced close to you, one hand on your waist and his warm chest pressed firmly against your back. You’d hated it - feeling so safe in the arms of someone who had derived pleasure from picking on you your whole lives. And even if that’s not true - even if you only take into account all the ways that he’d taken care of you, celebrating all your accomplishments with you and holding you while you’d cried about your failures - you still shouldn’t be feeling that familiar tug of nerves in your stomach when he presses his hips against your ass, slipping his fingers through yours and pulling you close.

And when that hadn’t worked - when you’d held your ground and managed to cling to your anger from earlier - he’d even tried to talk to you about it. That isn’t normal for him by any means, but you could see the confusion in his eyes when he’d leaned down to be heard over the music, mumbling his question against the shell of your ear.

“Are we okay ?”

It had taken everything in you to resist him, to resist the pull that is Tsukishima Kei. The same pull that had kept you next to him all these years, through all the teasing and the poking. The pull that kept reminding you that he’s just bad at expressing his feelings. He’s just bad at being nice. He’s just bad at holding his tongue.

But that doesn’t mean you have to sit and take it every time.

So you’d only smacked his hand away and glared when he’d cupped the side of your face, trying to get you to look at him. Stomping over to the bar, you had asked the frat boy for a shot of something random.

After downing it, you try not to look back but fail miserably - you might be pissed, but you’ve never been immune to him. You probably never would be.

Glancing back, you can see his blond head in the sea of people. He’s trying to make his way to the bar, but his head is whipping to the side at the sound of something. A tall guy - you recognize it’s someone from his team - appears at his side, clapping his shoulder, and you can only assume he’d heard his name being called.

They start talking, Tsukki seeming distracted but drunk enough to at least pretend he’s interested in the conversation. You look away just as he’s turning his head back to you - you won’t be caught looking his way again tonight.

Luckily, there’s someone stepping up beside you, catching your attention with their bright smile.

“Y/n?!”

You blink, startled by the recognition. But when you finally see who it is, you can’t help but beam.

“Oh my God, Bokuto?!” You leap toward him, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and dragging him into a hug. You feel him laugh against you, his arms sliding around your waist and pulling you in tight. When you step away, he keeps you close, hand on your hips.

“What are you doing here?! You don’t go here, do you?”

The man shakes his head, grinning down at you and pointing over his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m just visiting a few friends over the weekend.”

You glance past him, seeing a group of boys that seem like they could be familiar to you, but you can never tell - Bokuto Koutarou is friends with everyone.

When you look back, you catch his eyes wandering down the length of your body, his gaze snapping up to yours when you clear your throat. He has the decency to look ashamed.

“Sorry, Y/n - You’ve just, uh… grown up a lot since high school.”

You flush deeply, something that makes him grin when he catches it.

At least someone thinks I look good tonight .

You’re smiling flirtily up at him, feeling confident enough to drag this conversation out. He seems to notice, an interested glimmer in his eye. But then he’s glancing over your shoulder, and his eyebrows are raising in surprise.

A hand wraps around your bicep, much tighter than necessary in your opinion. You barely have time to spot the blond hair in your peripheral vision before you’re being dragged away. You can only wave at Bokuto, who looks a little disappointed but mostly just amused.

Tsukishima only lets you go when you’re outside, his hand dropping from your skin like you’ve burned him. You whip around to face him, more than ready to yell at him on the front lawn of this frat house. But he’s already walking away, in the direction of your dorm.

“Dude, what the hell? You didn’t even say hi to him - he’s one of your closest friends!” You stalk after him, determined to figure out what could possibly be going through his mind. But he won’t answer you, just shaking his head and mumbling something that sounds vaguely like ‘exactly ’ as he makes his way down the street.

You scoff, turning back to the frat. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re just going to follow him home quietly.

You start to head back to the party, but you barely make it five steps before his fingers are closing around your wrist and tugging you back to him. When you look up, enraged at his entitlement, you see that he’s incensed, staring down at you with wild eyes. He looks pissed, which he has no reason to be. But there’s something else there, something that’s contributing to this almost panicked anger sitting just below the surface.

“Tsukishima, what do you want?”

He bristles at the use of his full name, golden eyes narrowing as he stares down at you.

“You’re going home.” He punctures every word with barely concealed irritation, finally turning and dragging you back down the street. You don’t say anything this time, feeling that previously mellowed out anger returning full force as you stare at the back of his head.

The walk back is just as silent as the walk to the party had been, but this time you feel ready to explode. You’d been annoyed before, bothered and hurt by his words and the way he treats you.

Now you’re just ready to pick a fight. Which means you’ll probably say something you’ll regret if you don’t get away from him soon and take some time to calm the hell down.

When you get to your door, you’ve already got your keys out. He’d let go of you in the elevator, finally realizing that he’d been gripping you way too hard. You might just be able to get inside without him following.

But the second you unlock the door and slip inside, not a word said to the blond as you try to shut the door behind you, his hand is slamming down on the wood. He stops your attempt, staring down at you with annoyance.

“You’re joking, right?” And then he’s pushing into your room with an angry sigh, letting the door swing shut behind him. You only step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him over.

“What do you want?”

“What do I wa- What is your problem tonight ?” He squints down at you, eyebrows furrowed. When you only raise yours, his jaw is clenching. “Why the fuck are you so mad at me?”

“Because-” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath in order to maintain some semblance of control. “Because you’re an asshole, Tsukishima-”

“Stop fucking calling me that, Y/n-”

“-and maybe I’m just not in the mood for your shit tonight!” You yell over him, clenching your fists against your body. You need him to go. You cannot let him see you cry.

“I’m always an asshole! How is tonight any different-” He’s taken a step further into the small bedroom, and you take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. You’re immensely glad you don’t have a roommate, so they don’t have to deal with the mess that is your friendship with Tsukki.

“Tonight isn’t any different, you dick. It’s the same as it always is. I’m just tired of it tonight.” You feel yourself growing angrier when he just laughs, throwing you a mocking smile as he paces the room. He’s definitely drunk.

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize I needed to account for Little Miss Y/n’s fucking mood swings whenever I open my mouth-”

“What the fuck did you just sa-”

“I just didn’t take you for someone who’s sensitive-”

“Well, maybe I am, you fucking asshole! ”

You’re definitely drunk, too.

Tsukishima stops short, taking you in. He can’t hide the shock on his face when he sees you - the way your hands are shaking at your sides, the quiver of your lip as you try your best to stand up to him. You’re trying so hard not to cry, he can tell.

Wow, I really am an asshole.

“Y/n… I-”

“Did you really think I would still want to go to that party once you’d made it clear how much you didn’t want to go? That you think it’s stupid to hang out with your best friend on a Friday night doing something she wants to do - because your idea of a good time is so different from mine that you would try make me feel like a fucking idiot for it?”

Tsukishima’s starting to panic - had he made you feel that way? He’d just been talking. He hadn’t even been thinking about how it would make you feel - he’d thought nothing could hurt you, that your friendship is guaranteed and that having you next to him is a given.

Now he feels like he’s losing you.

“Maybe, once in a fucking while , it wouldn’t hurt you too much to tell a girl she’s pretty when she’s just spent an hour trying to look good for you.”

The frustration on Tsukishima’s face drops, and he’s left staring emptily at you.

That’s what this is about?

He stares for a while, his eyes just flicking back and forth between yours as he thinks of how to take that. It makes you nervous. You’d said too much.

“Fuck this.”

You blink, staring up at him in disbelief. What is that supposed to mean?

“What do you- mmh -”

Tsukishima had crossed the room in just two steps, taking your face in his hands while you’d been preparing to yell at him again. And then he’d smashed his lips to yours.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you let out a noise of shock, muffled against his mouth. Your eyes remain wide open, flitting in a panic over his features as you feel his lips move against yours. His brow is furrowing behind his glasses, and you’re realizing that you still haven’t kissed him back. You push against his lips experimentally, watching that wrinkle between his eyes all but disappear when he feels it, and you think it looks a lot like relief.

He’s nervous.

Your body moves of its own accord, hands sliding up his chest to grip at his shirt, and your eyes slide closed when you feel one of his hands fall to your waist. He nudges you backward, and you feel the hard surface of your closet door against your back.

Tsukishima slides his tongue against your bottom lip, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he feels you inhale sharply in response. He takes advantage of your surprise, pushing past your lips and brushing his tongue against yours. When you slide your hands up and around his neck, tugging at the hair there, he groans and leans down.

Planting a hand on the door behind you, he angles his head, slotting his lips against yours. He presses his hips into you, and you can feel how hard he’s getting. You sigh into his mouth at the feeling, smiling when his body reacts to the sound, his cock hardening against your thigh.

Tsukishima Kei might be impossible to read sometimes, but he never could hide from you.

He drops his mouth to your neck, latching onto a spot under your ear and using his other arm to pull you flush against him. The sounds you’re making are clear now, soft gasps and whimpers echoing in your tiny dorm room.

“So stupid… ”

You barely hear him, too busy wondering why it had taken so long to feel his lips on your skin.

“The only person in the world that can see right through me, and you were stupid enough to believe what I said. ” He mumbles it into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and sighing when you moan against him.

“You’re so mean…” Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his hand drop to your leg, pulling the fabric of your dress up slightly. He grips at the back of your bare thigh, brushing against your panties and kneading into the plush skin just below your ass.

“What were you gonna do, Y/n, go home with Bokuto?” Tsukishima all but growls the question against your neck, dragging your thigh up and wrapping your leg around his hip. He feels your dress slide up, feels your warmth against his jeans. He’s desperate to get out of them.

“Y-You called me ugly-”

“I never said that.” Yes he had. He knows he had. He just hadn’t realized you would take it to heart. Now he hates himself for even saying it. For pretending you aren’t the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

“Bo said I looked good… Figured I might as well go for someone who’s actually attracted to me…” You whimper when Tsukishima presses his erection against you, your thin panties useless against the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you?”

You breathe out a laugh, clinging to his biceps as he sucks another bruise into your skin.

“How was I supposed to know, you dumbass? You only ever say mean things, and I thought I could get over you by-”

“By what?” He’s getting irritated again at the thought of what could have happened tonight if he hadn’t brought you home. If he’d left you alone, like his brain was telling him to. If he’d given you space and just texted you in the morning.

“You thought you could just fuck some other guy and get over me?” He lifts his head, grinning cruelly when you look up at him, your lip trembling. “Because I didn’t call you pretty tonight? Because you were tired of me being mean all the time?”

You nod, a gasp leaving you when he wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you up so you’re eye-level, slamming you back against the closet door and pinning you there with his hips. Your dress is bunched up around your stomach now, leaving Tsukishima with a perfect view of the wet spot on your panties when he glances down. His grin widens, an evil glint shining behind his glasses.

“But it seems like you like it when I say mean things, Y/n.”

You whine in protest, growing louder when you feel him rut involuntarily against you at the sound.

“This is different, Tsukki-”

“Is it?” He’s distracted when he asks, too busy steadying you in his arms so he can lift you up and away from the closet. Making his way to your bed, he drops you unceremoniously on the mattress, smiling when you yelp. He removes his glasses and leaves them on your bedside table, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around your thighs so he can drag you toward him.

You sit up, taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips urgently to his - even on his knees, he’s tall enough to be eye-level with you. You feel his fingers, long and calloused, drift up your thighs and hook into your panties while he nips almost affectionately at your bottom lip.

“Tsukki… ” You whisper against his mouth, but he’s quick to shake his head, mumbling back to you.

“Not that. ”

You’re a little surprised - you never really call him by his first name. He’d found it uncomfortable the one time you’d tried it as a joke. But if he’s asking, then-

“Kei .” His pulse quickens under your fingertips when you murmur against his lips, his kiss becoming more full, and you realize just how much he likes it.

You pull away and press kisses to his face, peppering them across his nose and cheeks. It’s a moment that’s far softer than either of you had had before, one that has Tsukishima’s heart beating a little too hard in his chest.

God, he hates being in love.

He pulls away from you, planting one hand on your chest and shoving you away from him. You fall back onto your elbows with a noise of surprise, bouncing lightly on the mattress. Tsukishima only reaches for your panties again, tugging them down and smiling to himself when you lift your hips to help him.

He throws them somewhere over his shoulder, refusing to break his attention. Planting his hands on each of your knees, he pries your knees open slowly, glancing up at your face for any signs of discomfort. When he finds none, his gaze flicks back down to what’s in front of him.

And then his breath is cutting short at the sight of you lying bare in front of him. You’re glistening, even in this dark room, and his cock is suddenly unbearably hard.

He’d been thinking about this moment for far longer than he’d ever care to admit.

“Well, isn’t this just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen?”

You throw your head back at his words, moaning loudly.

“Oh, shut up.” You know Tsukki’s slept with his fair share of girls since you’d started college - being a popular volleyball player has its benefits. You’d done the same, hoping to squash down that jealousy in your own, twisted way. To hear him praising you like this - like you’d always wanted - has you clenching and squirming from the desire coursing through your veins.

“First you get mad because I’m too mean, and now you’re mad because I’m being nice?” He tilts his head, his voice mocking. “You really need to make up your mind.”

And then, before you can let out some kind of snarky quip, he’s dipping his head and dragging his tongue over your slit in one long stripe.

You gasp loudly and moan out his name, falling back onto the mattress as your hands fly to his head. You bury your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip when he does it again, licking through your folds before latching onto your clit, pulling the nub gently into his mouth.

He moans loudly against you when you mewl and pull his hair. The vibration on your clit makes you squirm, and you’re involuntarily rutting your hips against his face. He only laughs against you, his breath tickling your skin, and wraps an arm over your hips to hold you steady on the bed.

He pulls his mouth off of you, and you lift your head to look at him in annoyance. He smirks, holding eye contact while he brings his other hand to your folds. When he runs his fingers through them, stopping briefly to circle your clit, you whimper. And when he drops his middle finger to your entrance, nudging gently at it in question, you bite your lip and nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you already-

“Oh my- Kei-” Your head falls back when he slides his finger in and drops his mouth to your clit to suck on it. He sets his pace with his finger, thrusting into you and curling gently up toward himself, repeating the process until he can tell by your squirming hips that you’re starting to feel something.

And then he’s pushing another finger past your entrance, his cock twitching when you moan at the stretch. He’s been painfully hard for a while now, and all he wants is to be inside you of already. He doesn’t realize you’re feeling just as impatient, only noticing when your hands drop to his shoulders, tugging on his shirt.

“Kei …” You pout down at him, your eyelids fluttering when he thrusts his fingers into you again. His fingertips are brushing against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, his fingers much longer than yours. You think you might become addicted to his hands soon. But you only pull again on his shirt with a whine, hoping he’ll get the message.

Luckily, he does, because he’s pulling away to rip his shirt impatiently off his back, wiping his mouth with it before throwing it to the floor. He unzips his jeans as he makes his way up to the bed, pausing to scoop you up into his arms and tossing you closer to your pillows so he can climb on top of you.

When he pushes his mouth to yours, you’re moaning. He tastes like you, something he’s apparently proud of, because he’s just smiling against you and shoving his tongue past your lips. He drops his mouth to your neck again as he fumbles with his jeans.

“You taste so good, you know that?” He latches onto your skin, sucking harshly. “So much better than I’d imagined.” He pushes his pants just past his thighs, growing impatient. You gasp quietly when his cock brushes against you, the sound changing to a moan when Tsukishima runs it through your folds, sliding against you.

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours in a moment of astounding clarity given the insanity of this whole night.

“You sure?”

Your heart jumps when he asks. He’s got the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance, clearly holding himself back. But the way he’s looking at you makes you realize he wants this to be done right - after all, this had started with the two of you fighting. He doesn’t want you to regret this later and be even more upset with him.

He doesn’t want to lose you.

The idea that that’s what been hiding behind Tsukki’s eyes tonight - that vague panic that you couldn’t put your finger on - makes your heart sing and your stomach swoop with butterflies. You can only nod, cupping his face and bringing him down to your lips. His kiss is gentle and full of something that makes your nerves worse, something that makes you feel more than sure.

“I want this more than anything.”

Tsukishima’s heart skips, and he’s swearing softly against your lips. He hovers over you, keeping his mouth on yours as he presses his thumb against the head of his cock, guiding it past your entrance.

You gasp together as he pushes slowly into you, a moan pulled from your throat when he bottoms out and breathes out your name. The fog in your head - a mixture of alcohol, arousal, and nerves at the realization that you’re having sex with your best friend - worsens considerably when he drops his head to your neck, making an admission against your ear.

I’ve wanted this for so long …”

You whimper, curling your fingers into his hair and holding him close as he pulls out slowly just to slide into you again. You moan at the slow stretch, feeling his shaky breath against your ear.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Tsukishima doesn’t know why he’s choosing now to have this conversation, when you very well can just talk about it after. But there’s a strand of fear twisting around the butterflies in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth is moving without his permission. He needs you to understand what this means to him.

“I didn’t know it would hurt you… I didn’t mean it…” His hips are still slow, moving languidly against yours. He’d expected this to be rough - sex is only ever rough for him - but he needs to concentrate on what he’s saying. And you feel so good like this, so warm and tight around him.

You’re having the same problem, your head completely empty as you feel him push into you inch by inch instead of all at once. You can barely hear him, your ears ringing and your skin overheating while you try to process that this is actually happening - that you finally have Tsukishima Kei the way that you’d always dreamed about.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Y/n.”

Your heart stutters when you realize what he’s been saying. Even with everything else going on right now - even as his hips are picking up the pace, even with his breath shuddering against your skin as he moans quietly in your ear - he’s distracted, trying to apologize. Trying to make things right between you.

“It’s okay…” You whisper forgiveness into his hair, but you feel him shake his head, his grip on your hips tightening.

“It’s not. I shouldn’t hurt you. Not you…” He gasps quietly into your neck, his hips stuttering momentarily before he returns to his previous speed. “S-Sorry… You feel really good… Trying to focus.”

You flush, clenching around him and pulling him closer when he groans. You think about what he’s saying. ‘ Not you ’?

You’re about to ask what he means, but he’s mumbling another admission against your skin, this one much more intense than the last.

“I love you, Y/n… So fucking in love, it hurts…”

You inhale sharply, your heart stopping in your chest. But then there’s a moan ripping from your throat, because he’s hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know existed, the tip of his cock bumping up against something that makes the coil in the pit of your stomach twist harshly.

“I- fuck - Tsukki, I love you, too…”

Tsukishima lifts his head then, staring down at you with surprise written all over his face. You can only breathe out a laugh, moaning quietly while you giggle.

“What, you’re shocked? I just told you I almost went home with Bokuto just so I could stop thinking about you.”

His eyes darken at your words, and his hips are snapping harshly against yours. You moan in surprise, feeling your stomach flip at the way he’s looking down at you. He seems to remember now just how this night could have gone.

He sits up, knocking your hands away when you reach out for him with a whine, and pulls out of you completely. Slipping off the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands around your thighs and tugs you toward him roughly. He only smiles mockingly down at you when you slide across the mattress with a quiet yelp, pulling your hips flush against his.

When he slips into you again, the soft, caring Tsukishima is gone, replaced with the Tsukki you’ve always known. The one who has no problem running his mouth just to get to you.

“That’s it then, huh? If I hadn’t dragged you home, you’d be wrapped around another man right now?” He slams into you, watching with delight as you cry out and arch your back. He keeps this pace, his grip on your hips bordering on painful as he drives his cock into you.

“Tsukki-”

“What did I tell you? ” His tone cuts through you, yanking hard on that coil in your navel and setting off a fresh flurry of butterflies.

“I- Kei -”

“You think you can forget about me that easily? You think I would let you?”

You’re writhing under him, hands gripping your sheets tight as you gasp with each hard thrust of his hips on yours. The sight makes Tsukishima’s hips stutter, and he feels his orgasm coming on. He drops his thumb to your clit to push you closer to the edge, throwing his head back with a moan when you clench around him.

“Kei, please- feels so goo- ah- ”

“S-Shit, Y/n, I’m not gonna last… Where should I-” Tsukishima almost loses it when you claw at his hands on your hips, latching onto his wrists as you moan.

“Insi-Inside… Inside, Kei, please…” You look up at him, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the way his eyelids flutter when you clench around him. The way he bites down hard on his bottom lip and moans after a few seconds, breaking his hold on you so he can slam his hands down on the mattress on either side of you, his hair falling into his face as he pants down at you.

“Fuck -” He reaches down, brushing his thumb over your clit again. When you tighten around him this time, he’s letting out a choked gasp and your name, and you’re suddenly filled with warmth as his hips stutter, as he spills into you. He drops his head to your shoulder, his breath shaky as he thrusts into you, riding out his orgasm.

And when he’s done - when his cum is dripping out of you while you squirm, feeling full but unsatisfied - he sits up, pulling you against him again. He wraps his fingers around your wrists, smiling breathlessly when you cling to his forearms, and uses you as leverage when he draws his hips back and snaps them harshly into yours.

You cry out, feeling yourself throb the more he all but drags you down onto his cock and tries to draw your orgasm out of you. He releases your wrists, his thumb circling that little bundle of nerves while his other hand grips the back of your thigh, spreading your legs even further.

When he changes the angle of his stroke, you’re gasping, unable to handle all of the sensations he’s causing in your body. There’s too much going on, too many feelings happening, each of which is bringing you closer to the edge. You slap your hands down over your face, trying both to muffle your moans and also hide your face, feeling embarrassed that your body is reacting so strongly to everything Tsukishima does.

He only coos down at you, his tone almost insulting.

“Oh, is my baby going to come?”

You whine loudly at his words, so rude but so endearing - your stomach swoops as the coil tightens, but you nod anyway. His low chuckle reaches your ears.

“Let me see you, then.” When you don’t respond, only moaning into your hands with each thrust, he clicks his teeth at you in annoyance. “Come on, Y/n. I wanna see how pretty my best friend looks when she comes on my cock.”

Tsukishima beams when that does it, your back arching as you cry out his name. You screw your eyes shut and fumble desperately for his hands. He slips his fingers through yours, holding tight when you come, your walls fluttering around him. He fucks you through it, inhaling sharply when you become impossibly tight, and then drops down over you when you're done, pressing his lips to yours.

You let out a sob against his mouth, your limbs heavy as you try to catch your breath.

“Tsukki …” You wiggle uncomfortably, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him. He laughs against your neck, pressing kisses to your skin. And then he leans up again, pressing his lips to your tiredly.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He snickers when you whine but joins in on your soft gasp when he slides out of you, both of you sensitive. Stripping you out of the dress that’s been bunched up on your stomach this whole time, he leaves you on the bed, kicking his jeans off as he makes his way into your connected bathroom. When he returns, it’s with a wet rag and a gentle hand on your thighs.

Tsukishima scoops you into his arms when he’s done, setting you carefully against the pillows and climbing into bed with you. Your head is still empty, and you reach your arms out uselessly for him, mumbling his name. He only smiles, pulling you against his chest and kissing the side of your head.

“You okay?” When you nod sleepily against his chest, he smiles, tugging you closer. “Not too mean?”

You giggle, planting a kiss on his neck.

“I like you a little mean.”

Tsukishima snorts, shaking his head.

“I know you do. But still…” He meets your eyes, suddenly shy, his cheeks flushing. “I’ll be better from now on. Less ‘ toxic boyfriend ’ and more ‘ insufferable but still cute ’.”

You beam at his words, your heart skipping.

“Boyfriend , huh?”

He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry - I forgot you and Bokuto were basically married.”

“Oh, right, I should probably tell him the wedding’s off-”

“You’re a dick.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima smut

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rmstitanics · 3 months ago

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* GENERAL OBSERVATIONS, PART TWO.

4H URANUS folks have probably made quite a few friends online at some point in their lives, and believe that making friends online is much easier for them than making friends in person.

MERCURY SQUARE URANUS aspects prolly LOVE getting into arguments with random people on social media — they just can’t help themselves 😭 They need to be careful to avoid being “preachy” and forcing their sociopolitical views on others. Work on taking the time to learn about both sides of a polarizing issue before actively participating in debate.

Those with VENUS-SATURN aspects may find it difficult to make connections that have the potential for close friendships; VENUS-CHIRON aspects may find it difficult to keep and maintain friendships.

VIRGO STELLIUMS may have a unique ability to predict what will go viral on social media before it actually goes viral, particularly if their stellium is found in the 5H, 11H, or 10H.

I’ve noticed a lot of CAPRICORN, GEMINI, and SCORPIO placements in the charts of both modern and historic influential politicians.

Most colleges and universities begin their fall semesters during VIRGO SEASON.

It’s interesting that as schools begin their fall semesters and first quarters, the MOON is in the 9H of education and higher learning. In mundane astrology, the moon represents the general public, so it makes sense that the general public would be focused on education right now.

10H SATURN natives tend to have strict parents — especially fathers — that hinder rather than help their most formative childhood experiences. Here, the native must learn how to separate their core identity from that of their parents and step out from their shadow.

6H MERCURY might enjoy watching “Get Ready With Me” videos on TikTok or YouTube, and could’ve considered becoming a content creator themselves at some point in their life.

ASCENDANT-SATURN hard aspects, how’s your fall allergies going? If you have this placement, you could be prone to catching a cold, being immunocompromised, or having severe allergies. (Do NOT use this interpretation as evidence for a medical diagnosis.)

AQUARIUS SATURN may be prone to feeling like an outcast in social settings.

5H MARS radiates HUGE theatre kid energy to me, especially when it’s in a fire sign.

#astro community #astro observations #astro notes #Scorpio #Capricorn #Gemini #mercury in the 6th house #aquarius saturn #* astrology

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s6ngbird · 11 months ago

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little doll — coriolanus snow ༘❀⋆

♡‧₊ warnings — coryo being possessive, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering (f. receiving), rough sex, lmk if i forget anything!

♡‧₊ pairing — coriolanus snow x fem!reader

♡‧₊ a/n — wrote this for @etfrin bc me and her were obsessing over coryo (like always <3)

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

to coryo, you were an innocent little doll that he loved to play with and if anyone else tried to even lay a finger on you, he would make sure they were done for

you always took coryo to your house after school to help you with your homework or to study

coryo let you take him, you were so stupid that he knew if he didn't help you in any way he could, you would fail and have to drop out the academy and he didn't want to lose his pretty little doll

being dumb was the exact reason you never realized coryo had an unspoken claim on you, always keeping a hand on you and staring down everyone who tried to make conversation with you

this led to people starting to stop talking to you and you still didn't understand why it happened, but everyone else pitied you for being so dumb

you had asked coryo about it and he just brushed it off, giving you a kiss after which left you shocked since you never knew coryo had a romantic interest in you

but whether you liked it or not, one thing led to another and you ended up in your bed, naked with coryo under you as your eyelids became heavy and coryo stroked your hair, shushing you everytime you were about to say something

you got used to this, having sex everytime after you two finished studying. if you were good and could answer all the questions correctly, he would fuck you nicely, being gentle and praising you, but if you didn't want to study and were giving him a hard time or weren't answering any of the question right, he would fuck you hard, not letting you come or he would fuck your throat, not giving you any pleasure and leaving your house right after that

on this particular night, you had understood the concept, so coryo was gentle with you and let you come and stopped once you started feeling overstimulated

“coryo?” you ask after a while

“yeah doll?” he said, his eyes opening and continuing to stroke your hair

“why do people not talk to me? they always talk with you…what did i do?” you ask, your eyes looking filling with tears as a few threaten to spill

“oh sweetie shhh” coryo says, holding your head to his chest as you cried

you weren't used to people ignoring you since even though you were dumb, you were very social which made people love you

“it's nothing, they're not real friends…ok doll?” he said shushing you and you eventually find yourself asleep after coryo pulls the covers of you two and cuddles you, kissing your head from time to time

the next day, after you coryo go your separate ways, you go to clemensia to see why everyone was avoiding you

she gave you a hug, which confused you but you were grateful for

“it's because of coryo…he's threatened people if they get too close to you, he's really possessive over you, you know?” she replies after you two start walking to lunch together

this left you stunned, you would've never guessed that coryo had been pushing people away from you, but just as you were about to respond, coryo came out of nowhere and kissed you, putting an arm around you as he looked at you happily

“hi doll, hey clemmie” he said, giving clemensia a cold stare but that was all gone the minute you looked up

clemensia gave you a knowing look, saying goodbye to you and coryo as she left

“what was that about?” coryo said looking down at you

“nothing…let's go get lunch” you said not wanting to tell coryo what you found out but he could see it in your eyes

“hmmm i think we should go grab lunch and then go to an empty classroom and study…you have that test tomorrow anyway” coryo said grabbing his lunch, as you grabbed yours

“do we have to?” you asked, coryo knew how much you hated studying

“yes doll, you're never going to learn if you don't continue studying” he said, leading you to an empty classroom, letting you go in as he locks the door behind him

you sit down at the desk, starting to eat when coryo grabs you, pushing you on the table

“what the fuck did she tell you?” he hisses, his face close to your ear as he starts moving his hand up your skirt

“nothing coryo! why the fuck do you care?” you spat, trying to move

coryo didn't like that, you were being disobedient and one thing about coryo is that he only tolerates obedience and anything else gives him a reason to punish you

“why the fuck do i care? it's because your mine doll, no one is allowed to have you but me” he says, pulling off your skirt and ripping your panties

he laughs as you try to claw at his arms, your pussy is slick

“so pathetic doll, can't even tell me that you just want to get fucked hm?” he says, grabbing your arms and pinning them together to avoid you hitting him with your hands

you whimper, shaking your head as coryo shoves two finger in, finding your g-spot quite easily and repeatedly slamming his fingers in, leaving you a whimpering moaning mess

as he adds a third finger, which makes you moan loudly, he starts kissing you, sucking hickeys on your neck and shoulders

after coryo thinks you’re stretched out enough, he takes his fingers out, licking them clean before pulling down his pants, his cock painfully hard now at the thought of being in your warm cunt

without warning, he slams his cock into you, ramming the table into the wall as he fucks you hard, making sure that you got no pleasure from it

you kept whimpering, letting out broken moans and attempting to form coherent sentences but coryo just laughed at your attempts

“what’s wrong doll? too fucked out to even object?” he said, slamming into you with even more force and sucking hickeys all over your breasts

you kept babbling about how good his cock felt and letting out moans and coryo knew he had fucked you dumb already if you weren’t already stupid

coryo enjoyed this because he just wanted control over someone, which is something he had been deprived of his whole life until you came along

finally you stopped babbling, going quiet and that’s how coryo knew you were going to come, quickly pulling out before you could which left you a mess

you had tears running down your cheeks and you were whining, coryo had other plans though

“doll open your mouth” coryo said, pumping his shaft a few times before cumming on your face, some of it landing in your mouth

you still felt like crying, you had a good build up but coryo pulled out before you got to finally have the knot snap

coryo notices and laughs, getting dressed again while you just lay there, catching your breath

“next time, don’t go asking people to tell you things that i’ve already told you ok?” he says, kissing your forehead and leaving the classroom

#🎀 — fics #tom blyth #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #billy the kid #billy the kid smut #young coriolanus snow

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feralthoughtdump · 1 year ago

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Let Me Wrap My Teeth Around The World

Warnings: minors DNI, small age gap (everyone is 18+), manipulation, love-bombing, possessiveness, social anxiety, the male gaze, financial exploitation, obsessive behavior, ownership, toxic dynamics, moral corruption, smut, virginity loss, coercion, dubcon, dark

Word Count: 4.1K

It’s been a while since Coriolanus found someone as the object of his affection. The last time was a few years ago, and it did no good for him. But this shy, sweet, beautiful Capitol girl was someone who could pose no risk to him and seemed to have wormed her way into the recesses of his mind.

She was the shy girl in one of his University classes. Rumors circulated about her wealth or lack thereof. She was some prodigy who earned her way into the school through merit rather than money, and it left an open inquiry as to who her parents were. He didn’t know what drew him in. The House of Snow had just regained a semblance of wealth and power, and associating with a girl like her could easily create cracks in the foundation.

She wasn’t wealthy enough to come from a district family who bought their way in, but she certainly wasn’t like the other students who took classes with her. Though she wasn’t wealthy, she wasn’t necessarily poor, at least not as poor as his family used to be, but he could recognize the signs of the consistent repair in her uniform, using the same stitches Tigris would use on his old clothing. It turns out she had come from a family of seamstresses and artists.

He also learned that she loved pretty things, not just spotting them but making them. Her apartment was always decorated with little knick-knacks and drawings that covered the walls. Coriolanus would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy spending time in her dingy apartment. It was small, run-down, nothing more than a studio with a bed, desk, kitchenette, and a heat pipe that screeches and clangs at the most ungodly hour. But he loves staring at how her brows furrow as she sketches or how she tucks her lower lip between her teeth in frustration. Despite being unable to help her work, she was always happy to have him around.

This leads him to her small apartment at least once a month with a new pair of pants that were a bit too long or one of his father’s old shirts

Even though he could afford to have his pants hemmed by a tailor or simply ask Tigris, he prefers going to her. After all, she’s become familiar with his preferred inseam length, and Tigris has become colder and colder towards him.

He always insists on paying her even if she refuses.

“We’re friends, Corio,” She said the first time. “You don’t have to pay me.”

“Just this once, let me take care of you.” He insisted, pressing the cash into the palm of her hand.

Just this once turned into every single time. Then, it became buying her meals and small gifts. He got her internships with other high-ranking game makers. Eventually, he convinced her that her old apartment was too small and worn down for a nice girl like her, and he moved her into a spare room in his apartment and turned the other into a studio. Then, he started taking her to parties and events she could never afford to go to, and he always made sure to buy her a dress even if she insisted that it would cost less if she could just make one herself.

When their fellow students would snicker at her, he’d slip poison into their drinks. Never enough to kill them, just to get them sick for a week or so.

Somehow, Coriolanus finds himself taking her under his wing, becoming a mentor to her in some type of way. She maintained that soft and sweet air about her, but with his help, she became someone her peers respected. Once, she was the girl who made other students in the University roll their eyes because she always tried too hard. Now, she was the girl who had connections and handed in exemplary work. She was the carefully created success story of a middle-class Capitol girl who climbed the ladder with hard work and determination. Now, she could spread her wings and fly, but only as far as he would allow.

With the arrival of winter comes the start of planning another year of games, and the Crane family was more than happy to host a commencement gala.

This time, he bought her a pretty red dress she eyed in a store window a few days ago.

The quiet gasp she lets out when he opens the box is music to his ears.

“It’s even more beautiful in person.” She whispers the fabric pooling in her hands like blood. “I can’t let you keep buying me things like this. I can’t take this.”

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. She always opposes, with her voice becoming soft, objections and promises to pay him back, tumbling from her lips. But that wasn’t what he cared about. He cared about how she presented herself. He got her internships and dragged her out of that shoebox of a studio apartment. She was a product of his hard work, and he wanted to show it off. “Think of it as a gift.” He smiles, gently lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “You’ve worked hard these past few months.”

“Corio…”

“Put it on; we have to leave in a few minutes.”

…

She’s stuck to his side whenever they attend these events. Her shy demeanor doesn’t do well in large crowds, and with an endless supply of expensive liquor, Coriolanus doesn’t want her wandering about alone.

Throughout the evening, she’s been good. Smiling, looking pretty. Saying hello to the people he introduces her to, holding onto his arm, and letting him know when she’s feeling overwhelmed so he can rub circles on her back.

People compliment her, telling her how beautiful she looks. Pride thumps against his chest. Of course, she looks beautiful. The dress he picked falls on her body like it was made for her. The red is beautiful against her skin, and the fabric drapes beautifully around her hips, showing off her elegant back.

Eventually, she breaks away from him, needing to use the restroom. But after a while, he realizes something isn't right without her beside him.

He worries when he can’t see her, and he finds himself rushing through small conversations and pushing past people to try and find her in a sea of people.

Eventually, he spots her staring at the city's vast expanse, leaning on the balcony's edge. She’s slowly nursing her third glass of champagne in one hand, and the other picks at the cuticles of her thumb.

That wasn’t a good sign.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires, approaching her with a hand on her back.

She jumps at his touch, but relief crosses her face when she sees him. The last of the champagne is quickly swallowed, and she passes the empty glass to an approaching waiter.

“Nothing, really. I’m okay.”

From the tension in her forehead, he can clearly tell that she isn’t okay. Though he knows she hates it when he pries, he still chooses to do so.

“You aren’t, so tell me what’s wrong.”

There’s a beat of silence, and she sighs.

“I feel out of place, Corio. I feel like I don’t belong here.”

“What do you mean? Of course, you belong here.”

“Everyone here is just so…” She looks down at her heels, trying to find the right words “I don’t know, I’m younger than everyone, and most of the people here have played a part in the games and all I’ve done is get coffee and print papers for them.”

Her lashes flutter as if blinking away tears, and he can’t have that. Not here.

“Hey,” he lifts her chin with his fingers and strokes her flushed cheek with his thumb. “Don’t get all tearful on me. You’re with me. I promise you, you belong here.”

From the frown curling on her lips, his words clearly aren’t working, so he shifts the conversation. “What do you dream of being? What do you want to do?”

She opens her mouth but hesitates.

“Promise you won’t think it’s stupid?”

“I promise.”

“I’d like to be a designer.” A small smile starts to cross her face. “A fashion designer with my own line and everything.”

He could see a future where everyone in the Capitol wore her designs. Or not everyone. She was too good for that. All of his hard work has been put into helping her rise alongside him. If she wanted to do something, she had to be the best.

“I think you would make a great designer.” Without a second thought, he presses a small kiss to her forehead. “I know you will. I’ve seen your work.”

A giggle falls from her lips, and affection blooms in his chest. Nowadays, he wonders if he could ever love someone. But love is so subjective. He had molded her into someone who would be fit to stand by him as he rose in the ranks. Isn’t that the closest thing there is to love?

…

“Here, let me help you.”

The champagne has loosened her up, causing her to stumble on her feet. She leans against him and laughs when his arm hooks under her knees to carry her past the front door.

“Such a gentleman.” She croons. “Always taking care of me.”

“It’s what I do best.��

He sets her down on the edge of his bed so he can bend down to undo her heels. Without much thinking, he gently kisses the inside of her ankle. His eyes gaze up at her, gauging her reaction, and she shyly tells him, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

It’s as if something in him shifts. Coriolanus always harbored an attraction to her. On multiple occasions, he would fuck his fist after their little “tailoring” appointments, thinking about her on her knees, his cock stuffed in her mouth. Ever since she moved in, he’d sneak glances through the crack of her door, catching glimpses of her in stages of undress. He’s never acted upon it. His ego certainly wouldn’t be able to take the rejection, but now that she’s asking him to kiss her with those soft lips and glittering doe eyes, he’s safe to act on his desires.

He surges forward, engulfing her in his hold. Hands cupping her face to keep her lips pressed against his. His teeth graze across her bottom lip,

She smells like vanilla and roses, igniting that deep-seated hunger inside him.

He has always hungered for power within the political spheres of Panem, but right now, his hunger is hyperfocused on her. To own her, to control her.

He wants her to answer every beck and call. If he were to say jump, she would ask, ‘How high?’ If he asked her to crawl to him, she’d drag her delicate knees across whatever surface she stood on. He wants her to belong to him—mind, body, and soul.

Their lips are locked together as her hands fumble to remove her dress. Sensing her struggle, he releases her face to help, undoing the ties around her neck. She carefully lets it fall off her body, letting the vibrant red silk pool around her feet.

“I’ve never done this before.” She murmurs against his lips. “I haven’t done anything past kissing.”

“Really?” He looks down at her and wants to coo in adoration when she shyly glances away. “No one’s ever touched you before?”

“Just… myself… and this one boy from the academy a few years ago but it was over our uniforms.” She hesitates, and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. Coriolanus already owned most of her clothing, living space, and future career. It was all owed to him. But her virginity? He can truly make her his. His girl.

He crawls on top of her, caging her in his arms.

“I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

His fingers trace her skin, from the line of her neck past her collarbones, dipping under the white lace underwear that clings to her hips.

“These are pretty.” He flicks the rosette sewn to the center of the waistband. “Did you wear these for me?”

“Maybe. I made them myself.”

She lifts her hips, allowing him to slide them down her legs. They part, creating room for him to slot himself in between her knees. Her hands reach to remove his shirt, but he bats them away.

“Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”

As he unbuttons his shirt, he observes the way her chest rises and falls, how her lips are parted, and how her tongue darts out to lick at her lips in anticipation.

His fingers push past her lips, pressing down on her eager tongue, already swirling over them.

“Get them wet. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her eyes close as she sucks on the digits. Saliva pools in her mouth, dripping past the corners of her lips.

They are released with a pop, and Coriolanus groans, the strain in his pants becoming unbearable.

Two of his wet fingers slide between her folds, teasing at her opening. A gasp slips past her parted lips at the feeling of his fingers pushing in. It was torturous how he managed to curl his fingers just right, eliciting a stifled whine from her lips. She pulls her hips away, overwhelmed by the stretch and the growing pressure inside of her. Though he knows she’s fingered herself before, his fingers must feel foreign, better than what she can do for herself.

He pushes a third inside of her, opening her up, and he can feel how she flexes around him. She wraps her fingers around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away, but he persists, continuing to curl his fingers against that spot inside of her.

“Don’t fight it.” He demands, pistoning his fingers. “I’m just trying to make you feel good.”

Her gasps and whines eventually turn into moans. She clenches around his fingers and bucks her hips forward as if her body is begging him for more.

“I think,” She arches her back, and her voice becomes gaspy as if fighting to fill her lungs with air. “I think I’m close.”

“Already?” He spits onto her clit and presses his thumb against it. Electricity surges through her body as he rubs it in slow circles. She watches him with parted lips and shaky breathing as he fuels her oncoming orgasm. “Oh, you’re making this too easy for me.”

Her head is thrown back, and a strangled moan falls from her lips—sticky arousal floods around his fingers, and her walls spasm around them.

“There you go.” He soothes, pressing kisses to her cheek. “That feels good, huh?”

She’s laid out on the comforter, chest heaving and skin flushed. Coriolanus grabs his stiff cock through his pants, trying to ease the growing tension. But he decides he can’t wait to give her a break.

Her ears perk up at the metallic clink of him undoing his belt.

“Corio, I- I don’t think-”

He shushes her with a kiss.

“It’s alright, you can take it. Yeah? Remember what I promised?”

“That you’d be gentle.”

“That’s right.” He kicks off his pants and frees his cock from the confines of his briefs. “I’ve always been good to you, haven’t I?”

She nods in agreement, eyes widening at the size of him.

He licks his lips as he presses the tip against her cunt, slowly easing his cock inside of her.

As he sheathes himself inside of her, he presses her thighs to her chest, forcing himself deeper into her warmth.

She lets out a sharp cry and grabs his waist, trying to push him back.

“You’re too big, Corio. I don’t think you’ll fit.”

He hurries to kiss away her complaints. To distract her from the pain. He couldn’t wait. He needed to feel her. He needed her. Whispering against her lips, he soothes her. “You’re okay. I’ll go slow. Yeah?”

Broken moans fall from her lips as he bottoms out. He groans in pleasure as her fingernails dig into his back, scrambling for some kind of purchase. She was so tight, so wet, and so warm, gripping onto him like a vice.

Very carefully, he rocks his hips back and forth, letting her adjust to him. The sounds she makes, combined with the slick squelch of her cunt are obscene. Even with his slow movements, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to last long.

He drops his lips to her neck, teeth grazing the fragile skin before biting down.

“Ah- please, don’t leave a mark.”

Disregarding her words, he sucks a slowly blooming bruise onto her neck. He doesn’t care if it’s dark. He wants people to see it and know who left it there.

Maybe he does love her, he thinks. He loves how she complements him, her sweetness dampening his harsher attributes. He loves her creativity, her ambition, and how she always hungers to better herself. She’s perfect. She could be more than just a designer. She could be influential, a figure in the history of Panem.

“I have an idea.” He hums against her neck, stilling his hips.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to be part of the games.”

“What do you mean?” She impatiently shifts her hips, trying to get him to move again.

“You can be a…” he pauses to think, looking into her blown-out pupils, “a stylist. You can design the tributes' looks for the opening ceremony and the interviews. Maybe we can implement uniforms for the actual games.”

She pulls back, but he keeps her locked in place, hands grabbing at the flesh of her hips. Her eyes no longer look glazed over with lust. Instead, there’s a flash of clarity within them.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“No, Corio.” Her voice is firm. She has her mind made up. “I won’t do it.”

His lust begins to mix with anger. She can’t deny him. Not now, not ever. Not after everything he has done for her.

His hand reaches for her chin, and she whimpers.

“Yes, you will because I’m not asking.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” She struggles against his hold. “You don’t own me.”

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you,” He snarls, fingers digging into her jaw. “I gave you this life, and I can easily take it away from you.”

“Let go of me, please.”

Earlier promises of being gentle are tossed away. She’s beginning to let out pained squeaks from the pressure on her cheeks, and the hand on her hip digs into the soft flesh, creating red divots close to drawing blood.

“Look at all that I have given you. All of your nice clothes and these fancy internships were because of me. Without me, you’d be freezing to death in that shed you used to live in.” He pulls his hips back and slams his cock back into her dripping cunt, eliciting a cry from her. “I made you who you are.” He cruelly bullies his cock into her, picking up his speed every time her hands weakly try to push him away. “All you have to do is be good for me, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He forces her to look at him, to stare into her glassy eyes. “Are you going to be good?”

She doesn’t reply, or rather, she can’t. All she could do was strain against him with dark, mascara-stained tears rolling down her cheeks.

Those eyes that once gazed upon him with fondness are now filled with fear.

“Are you going to be good?” He punctuates his words with a hand to her throat, giving it a light squeeze. It’s enough pressure to establish a threat but not enough to take away her ability to breathe.

Her teary eyes blink, and she nods.

“Yes,” She whispers. “I’ll be good.”

“So,” He slows his movements and brings his lips to her ear, warm breath tickling her skin. “What do you say?

Once again, he circles her sensitive clit with his thumb.

She sobs, clenching around him, and he can tell that she’s close to cumming again.

“You’re not going to cum until you answer me.”

“Please, Corio, don’t make me decide. Not right now.”

“I want-” He groans, feeling himself falling close to the edge. “I need an answer.”

She sobs and tries to look away, but the hand on her face won’t let her.

“Please.”

His face moves closer to hers, her hot breath fanning his cheeks.

“I can feel you clenching around me, and I know you can’t hold it in. Give me an answer now.” More tears stream down her face, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “If you cum before giving me an answer, I’ll ruin this pretty cunt.”

There’s a second of silence, save for the sound of his skin slapping against hers before she nods.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes, what?”

“I’ll do it.”

He quickens his pace, chasing after his own pleasure, and she all but screams.

The fire in his burns, ready to overtake him, but something isn’t right.

“Open your eyes.” He demands. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up.”

She blinks her eyes open, all wide and wet, and he’s unable to hold back. Tightening his hold on her, he forces his hips against her own, burying his cock to the hilt and releasing inside of her. She flutters around him, desperate gasps for air falling from her wanting mouth as she cums with him.

They stay in this position, both trying to catch their breath. Coriolanus is the first to pull away, rubbing her thighs to loosen the tired muscles.

She lays there, surrounded by his fluffy white sheets, saying nothing. He gently kisses her cheek, attempting to pull an answer from her, but when it proves unsuccessful, he leaves to draw a bath.

…

“You don’t have class tomorrow, right?”

The question draws her out of her gaze, now realizing she’s curled up in the tub with her knees drawn to her chest. The water is warm, cloudy, almost milky, and smells like roses. She couldn't bear to look at him right now, but she managed to force an answer from her lips.

“No,” she fights the urge to flinch when his fingers brush her hair away from her neck. “It’s my day off.”

“Good.” Coriolanus dips the washcloth in the tub and gently wipes it against her skin. “You’ll come with me to see Dr. Gaul. Bring your portfolio.”

Her body shudders at the thought of meeting the woman, but more notably, knowing that the man she held so much love for was nothing like the man he portrayed himself to be.

She once thought that he was her patron, but the truth was that he was her owner. All of the riches she had gained this past year meant nothing now. They weren’t hers. They were his. He had given her a life of safety where she could flourish and provide for her family, but it was one separated from the world she once knew. Her parents and friends from the fabric shop were replaced by the same obscenely wealthy elite who would have thumbed their nose at her if it weren’t for the proximity to him.

Every gentle brush of his fingers on her skin reminds her of what he’s done to her. How he now owns her.

Her mind falls to a lecture from a year ago. It was about evolution and apex predators. The boa, she remembers, was nonvenomous but deadly, wrapping themselves around their prey, squeezing their bodies until their circulation stopped and their lungs could no longer pull any oxygen. What’s more chilling, she thinks, is that they know to monitor their heartbeat, waiting for their heart to stop before swallowing them whole.

He’s wrapped himself around her, tightening his hold. She knows she can struggle, but he won’t loosen his grip. He’ll just constrict around her, tighter and tighter, until there’s no more room for her to fight—no more room to breathe.

“I’ve been very sweet on you, and I can keep doing that.” He hums. “But, I can be cruel as well. You and I both know I don’t want to do that.”

Finally, she finds the courage to look at him; those blue eyes are now colder than ever.

She tries to whisper, but when he raises a brow, she clears her throat and meekly responds.

“Thank you, Coriolanus. For everything.”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas fanfiction

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 9 months ago

Text

The Most Innocent Sinner

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk

Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!

From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all.

Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.

It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.

For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.

The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.

The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.

Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.

She didn’t want to hide anymore.

It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.

Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.

Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.

Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.

After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.

“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.

“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.

With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.

Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…

“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.

“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”

Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.

Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.

Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.

Ah shit. He was in love.

Him, in love?

It was the first time.

… Wait a minute.

He was in love with her.

This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.

Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.

This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.

And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.

“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.

SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.

“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.

It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.

In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.

Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.

And that was when he saw them.

There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.

Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...

Dean came across the largest box.

It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.

It couldn't be that big... right?

And oh my god.

“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”

Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...

Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.

“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.

“I love the view…”

Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.

It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.

"Oh. No."

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.

Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.

“What is this?”

Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.

His question only made her more uncomfortable.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”

“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.

“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.

Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.

Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.

Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.

“I want you to watch me.”

“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.

“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.

Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.

“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”

“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”

Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...

Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.

It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…

Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.

“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.

“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.

Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.

“How do you want me to use it?”

Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.

“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.

“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching.

And he could see it all.

It was better than everything he could ever imagine.

The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.

“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.

Another groan whistled through his teeth.

“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”

He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.

His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.

“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."

"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."

"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”

It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good.

In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.

It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.

Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.

“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.

“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.

“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.

“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”

“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?”

Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.

A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.

“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”

Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”

Babum.

The words he never said back before.

Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1 @syrma-sensei

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killerlookz · 6 months ago

Text

Dirty Dancing | Joost Klein (Groupie Love Series)

Part II of the Groupie Love Series starts immediately after part I

description: joost klein x groupie!f! reader- following their hookup, Joost learns that reader will be in Belgium for one more day and decides to invite her out clubbing, wanting to see her once more.

warnings: 18+ NSFW, MDNI, semi-public sex (i guess technically), unprotected P in V, drunk-ish sex... do not post my work to other social medias, this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable, and please block the rpf tag

word count: 4870

"Did you enjoy the show tonight?"

You inhale, allowing the smell of Joost's burning cigarette to enter your lungs,

"I think I enjoyed a little more than the show," Your eyelids hang low, your words are slow, almost sloppy- as if you had just a little too much to drink.

A knowing smirk continues to linger on Joost's face, "Really, did you the show?"

"I wouldn't have traveled to three different countries to see you if I hadn't been enjoying myself." You tilt your head to the side, taking in his features- he was the sort of perfect that kind of hurt to look at, each of his features in perfect harmony with one eachother, "I didn't travel all this way just to try to sleep with you- but tonight certainly was a pleasant surprise."

"You make it sound like trying to sleep with me was part of your plan,"

"And could you blame me if it was?"

Joost leans back on the couch, the satisfied look on his face making it all too obvious how much he's enjoying your praise. and the way he moves makes you wince- still inside you, your eyes shut tight, and your muscles clench.

"Hmmsorry sweetie," He hums, placing his free hand on your thigh, beginning to rub gentle circles into the supple flesh. His delicate touch made you want to collapse into him- to melt into his chest and make this night much more romantic than either of you had anticipated. But you stay still, instead waiting intently for him to speak again, "How long are you in Belgium for?"

"Two days." You shrug, responding matter-of-factly.

"Good," A smile creeps on his face as he lifts his cigarette back up to his lips, "I'd like to see you again." He takes a drag, and you watch as his chest rises with his inhale, glistening with a fine layer of sweat. He turns his head to the side, his sharpened jawbone only becoming more pronounced as he lifts his head up to exhale- careful not to blow the smoke towards you.

He'd like to see you again

You attempt to bite back your excitement, bottom lip tucked under your teeth as he continues.

"We're going to a club not too far away tomorrow night, and I think you should come." He spoke so nonchalantly like you were just supposed to know who "we" referred to, or really even know the area you were in.

"Sounds..." The word lingers on your tongue as you search for the proper adjective, "Fun." You smile, careful not to give too much away, attempting to stay as cool about the situation as he was, "But I'm staying here with a friend, is it alright if she comes with me?"

"As long as you're there," Joost squeezes your thigh where his hand had been resting. His small move gets a breath stuck in your throat and you swallow, attempting to adjust your breathing back to normal without him noticing.

You only nod in response, affirming you would indeed be there.

Your body grows hot the moment you step into the crowded club. The music boomed from the speakers that filled the venue, the bass so loud you could feel yourself vibrating.

"Do you know where he's supposed to be?" Your friend leans in, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

"No," You pause, taking a second to scan the crowd of people that filled the club. It was a little hard to see, the only lights illuminating the dark space were scattered LEDs that cast the place in a glow of various colors, "He just said what time he'd be here." You couldn't find him in your quick scan of the place, "I think I'll just let him find me." After all, he had been the one to invite you out, so you figured it should be on him to seek you out.

"Fine," She shrugs, "But we're drinking in the meantime." She grabs you by the wrist, pulling you to the crowded bar. The two of you push past the sea of sweaty bodies on the dance floor, adrenaline rushing your veins as you realize just how packed the club is- you were always one to jump at the chance to party.

Practically leaning over the bar, your friend outstretches her hand to flag down the bartender. You continue to scan the area surrounding you while she yells her order- where was he? You worried that maybe he bailed, or you accidentally got the wrong address.

However- your worries quickly subsided as the bartender placed the two rounds of shots your friend had ordered for the both of you down. You don't bother to ask what she ordered, at the end of the day, it all went down the same.

You smile down at the glass, wrapping two fingers around it before clinking it against the glass your friend held.

"Bottoms up," She smirks.

The liquid slides down your tongue, warming your esophagus and spreading to your stomach. Goosebumps form atop your skin as you try to stop yourself from wincing at the way the alcohol bitterly burns at your tongue. Before you let the unpleasant sensation subside, you're already throwing back the second shot.

You exhale as you tap the glass down on the bar,

"Another round?" You smile.

Your friend holds a single finger up to you, as to tell you to wait, before she mimics you, downing her second shot. Her face crinkles as she slams the glass down with a thump.

"Give me a second, you're better at this than me," She shakes her head, attempting to rid herself of the taste.

Suddenly her eyes widen, and you feel someone grab your hand. The initial shock makes you jump, quickly flipping your head to see who it is.

"I've been looking for you," It was Joost, a smile on his face as he brought your hand further up, placing a kiss to your knuckles. The small gesture makes your face grow hot, and you're unable to control the small giggles that fall out of your mouth as he gently sets your hand down.

"Hi," You grin, studying his face. He looks much more put together tonight than yesterday, seeing as the night had just begun. Your eyes trail down from his face, looking down towards his neck, the surface above his Lola Bunny tattoo covered in splotches of red and purple- marks caused by your mouth and you briefly wondered if things would escalate between you again tonight.

"Hello," The smile lingers on his face as his eyes flick to your friend, "And who is this?"

"Nora," She smiles back.

"I'm Joost!" He exclaims, excited to introduce himself to someone new.

"Oh, I know," She nods

"We were just about to do another round of shots, care to do one with us?" Your eyelids flutter as the question leaves your mouth, a quiet beg for him to say yes.

"Ja!" He nods, enthusiastic at the prospect of getting another drink in his system. "What are we drinking?"

You turn around, a motion to tell your friend to answer the question,

"Oh-uh," Nora furrows her brows, "Whatever the house vodka is- I don't know, something cheap."

"Works for me," Joost shrugs before leaning down to you, lightly grazing your arm with his palm as he goes to talk into your ear, "Your drinks are on me after this one though."

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the giggle that was about to escape you at the feeling of Joost's breath against your neck.

"Works for me," You repeat his words back to him.

The small shared moment is quickly broken by the bartender placing another round of shots in front of the now three of you. Joost is the first to take a glass, raising it to the rest of you to follow,

"Proost!" (cheers) He just about yells, and you and Nora minic, clinking your glasses together before downing the liquid.

Swallowing down the liquor didn't get much easier for you- but you knew you were at the point where you would start feeling it a little. Joost seemed unaffected, swiftly putting down the glass without as much as a flinch-like he was only drinking water.

Joost raises his voice over the music, "I'd like to introduce you two to my friends, ja?"

Sitting at a section in the back you watch on as Joost and one of his friends dance around, in front of you, screaming the words to whatever Dutch song that had been booming through the club.

Nora had wandered off somewhere, having hit it off with some girl who had offered to buy her a drink.

"What?" Joost asks, "You don't dance?" He teases, a smirk pulling at his lip.

"Says who?" You flick your gaze up to him

"Says you who's been sitting here just staring at me for the last twenty minutes."

"Maybe I like staring at you."

He rolls his eyes, outstretching a hand for you to grab so he can stand you up. You oblige, his strong tattooed hand wrapping around your own as he tugs at your arm. He barely gives you enough time to stand up before he's pulling you off to the dancefloor.

The enthusiasm with which he moved was kind of adorable you couldn't lie, the smile plastered on his face, drink in hand as he danced around you- it was a little like he was in his own world, like he didn't care one bit about the other people around him.

As he's behind you he slips his hands to your waist, pulling your back to his chest. He sways you from side to side in time with the music, and you eventually get into the groove of it, throwing your head back to rest by his shoulder.

Despite the position you were in, the movements between the two of you remained fairly chaste for the time being. After a few minutes, Joost lowered his head to rest his chin on your shoulder, leaning to speak in your ear,

"Stay here, I'm gonna get us another round of drinks." He finished his sentence with a light peck to your temple before hurrying off to the bar.

The small kiss left you feeling hot- and wanting more, leading you to decide to really put the moves on Joost when he got back.

You keep to yourself for the time being, continuing to feel the music as the alcohol slowly sweeps away your inhibitions.

It wasn't long however until Joost came back, holding two glasses full of a dark liquid. You didn't need to ask- in the under an hour that you had been here you'd quickly become accustomed to Joost and his friend's affinity for Bacardi and Coke- even having given the drink some dumb name you couldn't remember.

He hands you the glass with a grin, eager to get back to you.

"Thank you," You stand up on your toes, reaching to give Joost a kiss on the cheek as a show of your gratitude. You're able to suck down about a quarter of the drink before wincing, a soft chuckle leaving Joost's mouth at the way your face twists. It was evident he was much better at holding his liquor than you were.

Soon enough you had found yourself once again with your back pressed against Joost's chest, his free arm wrapped around your waist. However, things felt a lot less wholesome this time- the way your hips circled with intent with your ass pressed against his crotch. You tipped your head back, eager to get a look at him as the pair of you danced with one another. As you stared up at him there was no longer a goofy smile plastered on his face, rather he was staring back down at you, his eyes lit with a familiar lust.

You're taken out of your thoughts with a gasp as you feel someone knock into you, before a liquid hits your chest, making you fling your head up from where it had laid against Joost. Above you stood a man, taller than you but shorter than Joost, clearly hammered holding a half-emptied beer in his hand.

"Kom op, kijk uit waar je loopt!" (come on man, watch where you're going) Joost's arm leaves your waist as he throws up his hand, practically scolding the man for knocking into you.

There's a sheepish look drawn upon the man's face as he holds up a hand in defense, A slurred, "Uhsorry," leaves his mouth before quickly walking away.

Joost grabs at your waist to motion you to turn to face him,

He mutters something in Dutch, shaking his head in annoyance before returning his full attention to you, eyeing the drops of beer that had been spilled all over your front, "I'm sorry, I'll get that," his arm slipping around your waist, lowering his head, making you suck in a breath as his tongue meets your skin, licking at the liquid that sat on the exposed flesh of your cleavage.

You can't help but tip your head back to allow him better access, the small licks at your chest to help clean you up soon turning into small kisses up the side of your neck. You weren't sure how much longer you could keep this up before you were begging him to take you back to his hotel room.

"What's got your pulse so quick, liefje?" He picks his head up from your neck, his lips curved in a knowing smile. Damn him.

"I didn't know you were a doctor," You raise an eyebrow, challenging his flirting.

"Yeah," He chuckles, "Maybe you should let me give you a physical exam." He gives you an overexaggerated wink, aware of the corniness of the line.

You bite your tongue, shaking your head as you slide your free hand up his chest before letting it rest on his shoulder. He's quick to pull you back to him, his hand now trailing below your waist, lightly grazing your ass.

"So beautiful tonight," His eyes trail you up and down, taking note of your entire body and just how little what you had been wearing left to his imagination.

"Had to dress up, I'm supposed to be meeting someone special here tonight." Your words are passive, teasing.

"Oh yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, his grip tightening on where his hand laid on your ass, "Must be a lucky guy."

"Mhm," You hum, though you doubt he can hear it over the music, "Kind of hoping he'd rather take this outfit off of me, though."

Joost tilts his head forward, his lips brushing your ear,

"Well- I can't speak for this someone special, but I can tell you I'd love nothing more." His voice is low and seductive but his proximity to you makes his words clear even with the sound of the club around you.

You push yourself forward, grinding your hips against the buckle of his belt.

"Maybe that can be arranged," You place a small kiss to his neck before biting at his earlobe.

You feel the tip of Joost's hands grabbing at the hem of your skirt, pulling it up slightly- had you not been so desperate for him by this point you would have slapped his hand, teasingly chastizing him for being so dirty, but you let him continue. He had only pulled your skirt up a little just barely exposing some of your ass before he palmed at the supple flesh, fingers trailing towards your inner thighs.

Your back arches into his touch, forcing your chests even closer together. Your movement forces his fingers to just barely graze the crotch of your panties, his hand now fully under your skirt. A whispered, "Fuck," leaves your mouth at his gentle touch. God this all felt so dirty.

With his head still lowered by your neck, Joost began kissing lightly, his hand not leaving from where it pressed between your thighs. You attempt to play off the subtle movement of your hips as if you're swaying to the beat, though it's all a desperate attempt to feel some friction against Joost's hand.

Your body feels tense, your arousal becoming pent up as Joost continues to kiss at your neck. You're so wrapped up in the moment you nearly forget there's an entire crowd around you, but you were sure no one was exactly interested in what had been going on between you two.

Some more mumbled curses fall from your lips before Joost looks up from where his head had been buried in your neck, his hand falling from your thighs. You pout at the lack of contact.

"Come on," His tone is almost aggressive as he pulls your hand, leading towards the back of the club. He's determined as he pushes through the crowd, bringing you to the bathroom, its small, and dark, a singular light illuminating the tiny room over the sink.

Joost just about rips the drink from your hand, slamming both of your glasses onto the skin counter before returning to you. You share a knowing glance between the two of you, before he pushes you against the tiled wall, his lips devouring yours in a hungry kiss.

It isn't long before he's feeling you up, his hands moving up and down your sides, eager just to have you in his grasp.

His hands trail down to your skirt, lifting the fabric up to your waist before he nudges his knee in between your legs, urging you to part them for him and you're quick to oblige. As soon as your legs are opened, just a little he's reaching for the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side.

The tip of his pointer finger lightly brushes your clit, forcing you to exhale a light whimper between kisses. He doesn't waste too much time teasing you, an unlocked club restroom was not exactly the ideal place for long, drawn-out lovemaking. Instead, he presses harder, drawing circles against your swollen bundle of nerves.

The feeling of his fingers mixed with his rough kisses is absolutely heavenly. His fingers trail a little further back, collecting your slick before returning to your clit, and you gasp at his fluid motions.

"I've barely touched you," He muses, his lips parting from yours for an instant. You didn't have it in you to feel ashamed for how wet you had grown in such a short amount of time.

"Need you," You mumble

"C'mon, you've got me," Joost pulls away from you completely, leaving you gasping as he steps away. He cocks his head, motioning you towards the sink to command you to stand over there.

You nod, taking a few steps to the side, meeting the sink's counter, and you stare at yourself in the mirror before flicking your eyes to Joost's reflection as he walks over to you.

He places a hand on your upper back, urging you to bend over the sink. You bite your lip, slowly leaning forward, resting your elbows and forearms on the counter.

Joost's hand trails down your back, to your ass, giving it a light slap before squeezing tightly, the feeling of his fingernails pushing into your flesh making a small yelp leave your mouth.

But his hand quickly drops, and you can hear the metal clinking of his belt coming undone. The simple sound fills you with excitement, a tightness growing in your lower stomach at what you know what was going to happen next.

You watch intently in the mirror as he pulls down his pants and underwear to just about his mid-thighs, but you can't see much past that with you being in front of him. But you can certainly feel as his hardened cock springs loose from the confines of his clothes, the tip grazing your upper thigh.

He lightly kicks the inside of both your feet, spreading your legs a little further as he strokes his cock behind you. A hand comes to your waist, and Joost leans forward,

"Ready for me schatje?" He grumbles into your ear.

You can't do much in the way of biting your lip and nodding, you had been more than ready.

He lets out a deep exhale as you feel the tip of his cock graze your puffy folds. His free hand coming to your upper thigh to spread you open for him. Gently, he's pushing himself into you, your eyes shutting tight as you have to readjust to his size. You take in the familiar stretch as he bottoms out in you, pausing for a moment before pulling out so just the head stays inside you. He continued these slow, teasing motions until it was almost painful how bad you needed him.

"Please," You whimper out, your head hanging low.

He doesn't make you beg much further before both of his hands are on your waist, forcing you down onto him as he thrusts into you at a faster pace now. The small room echoes with the dirty sounds of each thrust in and out.

He's much more aggressive than he had been last night- but you couldn't complain, not at the sensation of his cock hammering deep inside you. A sharp moan leaves your lips with each of his movements.

Oddly enough, knowing that someone could walk in at any time and catch what the two of you were doing only added to the arousal you felt. You were sure at this point if Joost insisted on fucking you in front of an audience you'd probably let him.

Some praises in Dutch leave Joost's mouth that you can't quite understand, but they make you feel like you're melting nonetheless. A hand snakes up your side to your neck, lightly gripping at your throat as he continues drilling into you.

"Look at yourself, liefje." He grunts, but you barely have the strength to pick your head up from where it hangs. He sighs, his hand loosening from your throat to your chin, forcing you to look up into the mirror.

You can't help but look at Joost instead, biting his lip, face contorting with each forward thrust. Watching Joost as he fucked into you was what was beginning to send you over the edge, your legs starting to tremble beneath you, your cunt beginning to spasm around the length of his cock.

"i-I'm close," You stutter, feeling the tightness inside you beginning to reach a shattering point.

"That's oka-fuck- cum for me,"

It doesn't take you long for you to obey his words, your orgasm smacking into you with a force you fear may knock you out. Joost's hand leaves your chin, instead, he reaches down to your clit, rubbing the swollen bud to help you through your orgasm.

The stimulation is enough to make you scream while your pussy clenches, spilling your release onto Joost's cock.

Your orgasm, however, did not deter Joost from maintaining the same pace he'd been fucking you at. Your body slumped over the sink counter while he continued to thrust into you at whatever speed felt right to him, his finger still drawing harsh circles to your clit.

A few tears slip down your cheeks due to the overstimulation, overwhelmed with an intense amount of pleasure that you weren't sure you had ever experienced before.

"Just a little longer," Joost assures, his breath losing a pace as his thrusting becomes wilder and more sloppy.

Soon enough he's spilling into you, his warm seed coating your walls with an animalistic groan. His head falls back as he fucks into you a few more times before finally stopping.

He's slow to pull out of you, leaving you whining as you feel the full length of his cock exit you once more. But as soon as he's out he's quick to pull up your panties, his release slowly dripping out of your cunt onto the crotch of the fabric.

You're still slumped over the sink as Joost buckles his belt before pulling down your skirt to cover you.

"Fuck," He grunts, "I need a smoke."

By the time you had found yourself back in Joost's hotel room, you had lost track of how many drinks you'd had that night. The warmly lit room felt like it had been spinning as you laid back against the thick comforter of the hotel bed. Uncomfortable was certainly an accurate word to describe how you had been feeling. Far too drunk, makeup smudged on your face, your clothes too tight on your body. You groaned as you shut your eyes, cursing yourself for not knowing your limits.

You heard a chuckle from somewhere beside you, followed by the balcony door closing. A mild scent of cigarette smoke filled the air, and you had figured Joost had just gotten back inside from smoking another cigarette.

"I think it's time for someone to go to bed," He chuckles once more

"I'll be able to sleep once the room stops spinning," You moan, rolling onto your side.

"Let me get you something to wear."

You can hear Joost shuffling around, unzipping a suitcase and digging through clothes.

"C'mon," He says a few minutes later, his hand grazing your calf, "I'll help you get changed."

Your eyes flutter open, rolling back onto your back to look at him. You sigh,

"Can't get up."

"That's okay," He laughs, You can tell by the look on his face that he's drunk too, the way his eyelids hang, and his cheeks glow a pretty shade of pink- but he's clearly more coherent than you are despite having drank more than you did. He places a gentle hand on your thigh, "Can I take your skirt off?" There's no hint of sensuality in his voice, clear he just wants to help you get into something more comfortable.

You grumble out a yes in response, resulting in Joost pulling the skirt down the length of your legs,

"Are you comfortable in these?" His finger ghosts over the waistband of your underwear.

You shake your head no.

"Can I take them off?"

Yes.

Your panties follow your skirt, falling in a pile at the foot of the bed. Your top was the next to go, your lashes fluttering as your eyes opened at the feeling of Joost's hands brushing your stomach, lightly tickling you.

"Sorry," Joost grins, looking down at you as he lifts your top over your head.

The cold hotel blows onto you and you're suddenly aware of just how exposed you are. Embarrassed, you roll over to face away from Joost, not wanting to make any further eye contact with him while being so naked.

"No need to be embarrassed, schatje," He says sweetly- it was like he could read your mind, his palm rubbing against your back to comfort you. "You need me to get you dressed,"

You mumble out a no in response, feeling bad for how much he had already helped you thus far.

"Okay, here you go." You hear Joost drop the clothes he had gotten for you onto the bed, prompting you to roll over to put them on.

A smile instinctively formed at the first article of clothing you saw, one you had recognized. He had given you a pair of his boxers to wear- the ones with his name embroidered onto the waistband. It seemed a strangely intimate move, but you had figured it was probably the first thing he had pulled from his suitcase- not daring to see it as anything past that.

You quickly slip on the clothes he had given you, pulling a simple white t-shirt over your head before eagerly getting back into bed. You crawled further up the length of the bed, grabbing the comforter from its nicely made position, and getting under it.

Laying on your back, your eyelids threatening to close completely any second, you watch as Joost strips down to his underwear, tossing his discarded clothes somewhere in the room.

The bed dips as Joost climbs in next to you, quickly shutting off the lamp on the bedside table as he does so.

Had you been sober you probably would have kept the distance between the two of you, only using Joost's bed as a place to sleep and not as an excuse to get close to him- but something in your drunk mind almost made you instinctively turn onto the side and snuggle into him.

He didn't seem to mind, actually, as your cheek nuzzled into his bare chest. He wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you a little tighter to him, affirming you hadn't done anything wrong by attempting to cuddle up to him.

You feel yourself drifting off, the subtle bumps of his heartbeat gently lulling you off to sleep as your breathing slows. Joost must have caught how quickly you seemed to be dozing off, humming contently before speaking softly,

"Slaap lekker," He sighs, the last thing you remember before finally being consumed by sleep is Joost pressing his lips to the crown of your head in a soft kiss.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein smut #joost klein x f!reader #rpf #rpf smut

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joyfulcowboycandy · 16 days ago

Text

My muse

Malleus Draconia x Reader

❥ one shot

Content warning: ...it's fluffy. Maybe that there are no established relationships? Oh, Y/n has social anxiety here and is an artist. Y/n takes yuu's place and no grim! :( he was turned into cat stew

Note: This is 4.1k words. Brace yourself ......Gosh I love Malleus, I have so many ideas for him........ I love good girl x bad boy typa dynamics I'm sooo not used to posting my ideas it's nervewrecking to share something so personal to me. I'm glad people seem to like them still!

fem reader

The sprawling stone arches of Night Raven College towered overhead as Y/n looked around, her heart a chaotic blend of excitement and unease. She was surrounded by bustling students, each one glancing her way with varying degrees of curiosity and indifference, but all carrying an air of mystique and confidence. She swallowed, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she tried to keep herself from looking too out of place, which was easier said than done. She felt like a fish out of water—a lost, magicless girl in a sea of powerful beings, standing out not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice.

The courtyard buzzed with conversation, but every once in a while, a murmur seemed directed her way, and she could catch bits and pieces of whispered phrases.

“Is she the magicless one?”

“She doesn’t look like she belongs here…”

“Oh, she looks nervous.”

Her cheeks warmed at the attention, and she felt an urge to shrink into herself, maybe find a corner where she could hide until everything settled down. But she took a steadying breath instead. She had to be brave—she’d promised herself that she’d make this strange place work, somehow. After all, this was a second chance, an escape from a life she’d rather leave behind. If she was going to find herself anywhere, it might as well be here, in this strange, enchanted school. Even if it meant being the “magicless” one.

Lost in thought, Y/n barely noticed the approaching figures until one leaned in close, a familiar pair of mismatched eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Hey, little guppy,” Floyd drawled, his grin wide and sharp. He poked her lightly, his finger pressing right into her shoulder, making her stumble back a step in surprise. “Aren’t you jumpy? You look like you’re about to pass out!”

She let out a shaky laugh, cheeks flushed. “N-No, I’m fine! Just… adjusting.”

“Awww, look at that.” Jade, Floyd’s twin, sidled up on her other side, his voice smooth but carrying that same teasing edge. “It’s always refreshing to have someone with such… natural reactions. Isn’t that right, Floyd?”

Floyd snickered, leaning closer until she had to tilt her head up just to look at him. “It’s hilarious,” he said, his grin widening as he seemed to take in every flustered detail of her expression. “What, did no one ever tease you back home?”

Y/n’s gaze darted down, a nervous laugh slipping out. “W-Well, no… not really,” she admitted softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Well, that’s a pity.” Jade’s eyes glimmered with intrigue. “We’ll just have to make up for all that lost time.”

They laughed, and though she couldn’t help the heat spreading across her cheeks, she managed to laugh along, even if a little nervously.

As the twins wandered off, leaving her to catch her breath, she exhaled, trying to release the nervous energy buzzing through her. She caught herself fidgeting again, trying to brush off the lingering embarrassment. Her shyness had always been a part of her, something she hadn’t been able to shake, even here. It was hard enough to make friends back home; she could only imagine how much harder it would be in a school full of people who seemed so confident, so... powerful.

But beneath her anxious thoughts, there was something else—an excitement, faint but real. A tiny spark of curiosity to explore, to learn everything she could about this world and the people in it. Here, she was no longer tied to the past, to the hurt and broken pieces she’d left behind. Here, she could be whoever she wanted. She could start again.

Even if it took her a thousand blushes, a hundred nervous laughs, and countless teasing encounters.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Living at Night Raven College and dealing with anxiety was difficult on its own. Y/N was the only female in the entire school, a fact known to everyone. Although the boys were decent enough not to be creepy or weird, they often teased her. She was always falling asleep in class or arriving late, which frequently earned her lectures from the teachers. This made her an easy target for teasing, though the boys never meant any harm (she hoped). She just wanted to stay on their good side. She wasn’t able to make any actual friends; her social anxiety always got in the way, and while she wasn't exactly avoided, she didn’t have anyone to confide in or talk to. She never blamed the boys, understanding that her anxiety made social interactions challenging.

Art was her only way to express herself, a cherished hobby since childhood. When she drew, she didn't need to worry about stumbling over her words or fiddling with her shirt to distract from her racing heart. It was also the only thing she had from her life back on Earth. She arrived in Twisted Wonderland with nothing but her own body and knowledge—not even the clothes on her were from home. She felt completely empty, making her art even more comforting.

Unfortunately, her inspiration always struck at night. She never understood why, but she did her best work during those hours. This habit interfered with her schoolwork and potential friendships, contributing to her clumsiness and constant drowsiness in class. She didn’t get enough sleep, being too busy illustrating the random things that caught her eye around the empty campus or the garden outside the Ramshackle dorm.

One night, she was by the old fountain, peering into the dirty water and watching her squirming reflection. The garden was beautiful, with slightly overgrown grass and numerous bushes and flowers she loved to draw. It was also peaceful, offering a gorgeous view of the moon high in the dark sky. Twisted Wonderland wasn’t much different from Earth, aside from the glaring difference of magic and slightly outdated technology. She was happy they at least had art supplies and canvases, which she was allowed to borrow. No one else seemed interested in drawing, so the supplies had been rotting in the storage room. When she asked to use them, Crowley was overjoyed that someone would finally make use of them.

Sitting in peace, enjoying the silence and the slight rustle of leaves, she sketched an owl glaring down at her from a tree a few feet away. She stayed silent, limiting her movements to avoid scaring it.

However, the sound of approaching footsteps startled the owl, causing it to fly away. Y/N gasped in disappointment, standing up from her seat as she watched the owl disappear into the little forest. It was then she noticed the presence that had joined her in the quiet garden. Tightening her grip on her pen and notebook, she reluctantly turned to face the intruder, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing Malleus Draconia.

Malleus stood silently, his eyes analyzing her with intrigue. Despite his fearsome reputation and the rumors that surrounded him, Y/N felt something akin to adoration. Under the moonlight, his horns, long hair, and calm, calculating eyes made him appear otherworldly. An urge to draw him struck her.

Without thinking, she blurted out, “Can I draw you?”

Malleus’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, a subtle reaction that she noticed. The corners of his lips curled into an amused smile, and he tilted his head slightly. The sight made Y/N's heart leap in her chest. She realized how strange her request was, especially as the first thing she had ever said to him. She felt embarrassed and stupid for being so weird, but she couldn’t deny how striking he looked under the moonlight. If he agreed to her request, she would be overjoyed.

Malleus studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Very well,” he finally said, his voice smooth and resonant. “You may draw me.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up with joy. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, her shyness momentarily forgotten in her excitement. She quickly found a comfortable spot to sit and began sketching, her eyes darting between Malleus and her sketchbook.

As she worked, Malleus watched her with a curious glint in his eyes. “Why do you wish to draw me?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N paused, considering her words carefully. “Umm… you looked really pretty under the moonlight,” she said softly, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve never seen horns like yours before, or eyes such a vibrant neon green. They’re really pretty.”

Malleus’s smile widened slightly, an almost imperceptible shift. “Is that so?” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone. “You find my appearance... pretty?”

Y/N nodded, her focus returning to her sketch. “Yes! I do,” she admitted.

They continued in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft rustle of leaves and the scratch of her pencil on paper. Y/N’s initial nerves faded as she immersed herself in her art. When she finished, she held up the sketch for Malleus to see.

Malleus studied the drawing, his expression unreadable. “You have captured more than just my appearance,” he said quietly. “How curious.”

Y/N smiled shyly. “I’m happy you think so.”

Malleus continued to observe the sketch, his expression contemplative. “Do you come here every night?” he asked, his gaze shifting from the drawing to her eyes.

Y/N nodded, her previous excitement fading into shyness now that the high from drawing had worn off. “I do,” she replied softly. “I get inspiration here, and it’s comforting.” She fidgeted with the corner of her sketchbook, her voice growing quieter. “I like drawing here at night.”

Malleus tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “You prefer solitude?”

“Sometimes…” she admitted, her eyes dropping to the ground. “It’s peaceful. And… I guess it’s easier than trying to talk to people. Drawing doesn’t judge me or expect me to say the right things.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m not very good at that.”

Malleus studied her for a moment, the moonlight casting a soft glow over his features. “I see. You find solace in your art,” he said, more as a statement than a question.

Y/N nodded again, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yes. I-It’s the one thing I can always count on.”

A thoughtful silence settled between them. Malleus seemed to understand her in a way she hadn’t expected. Despite his imposing presence and the intimidating rumors that surrounded him, she felt a surprising sense of ease in his company.

“You may continue to draw here,” Malleus said finally, his tone gentle yet authoritative. “And should you desire company, you have but to call for me.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words. “Thank you!”

As Malleus began to walk away, Y/N's curiosity got the better of her. "Wait," she called out, making him pause and turn back to face her. "Um- can I ask you something?"

He regarded her with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement still in his eyes. "You may."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N asked, "Are you really a prince? And a dragon!?"

Malleus nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yes, I am. Prince of the Briar Valley and a descendant of the dragon fae."

Her eyes widened in amazement. "That’s so cool! Everyone always says you're super strong, but we're not in the same year, so I’ve never seen it myself. Can you… show me?"

Malleus considered her request for a moment, then extended his hand. A green, magical aura surrounded him, and suddenly, ethereal, dragon-like wings appeared on his back, glowing in the moonlight. He didn't transform fully but gave her a glimpse of his power and heritage.

Y/N gasped in awe, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Wow," she breathed. "That’s amazing! You’re so cool."

Malleus retracted his wings, the aura fading as he resumed his usual form. "I am pleased that you think so," he said, his tone carrying a hint of pride.

Her mind still reeling from what she had witnessed, Y/N asked, "Can I draw you again another time? I mean, like this?"

He seemed to ponder her request, his gaze thoughtful. "Very well," he said finally. "You may. It is an honor to be your muse," he said, a teasing smile finding its way to his lips. "Perhaps we shall meet again tomorrow night?"

Y/N’s felt her face flush at his words. “M-my muse? And, yes! Okay!”

With a final, lingering glance, Malleus turned and disappeared into the early morning mist, and she returned to her dorm, with only a few hours left till school would start.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Since their initial meeting, Y/N’s encounters with Malleus grew in frequency, with each night solidifying their connection. Malleus had essentially become her muse, and she would show up with her art supplies, sketching and drawing him in numerous ways. He indulged her artistic passion, finding himself curious about her life while also sharing his own interests, particularly his fascination with gargoyles. She soon learned that his interest was so profound that he had created his own club dedicated to studying them, a fact she found incredibly cool.

Malleus, in turn, was intrigued by Y/N’s attraction to the very qualities that others found intimidating or unapproachable about him. Her genuine curiosity and admiration for aspects of his personality that were often deemed dark or formidable caught him off guard. He began to test her, asking questions designed to make her uncomfortable or to challenge her perception of him. Yet, to his surprise, she never faltered. Her view of him remained unchanged, always seeing the good in him.

It was a quality Malleus found both unusual and deeply attractive, especially in a place like Night Raven College, where cynicism and mistrust were more common than kindness and acceptance.

It seemed like just any other night when they met up in the overgrown garden, surrounded by flowers, bushes, overgrown grass, and the occasional firefly or grasshopper that graced them with its presence. Y/N, with her sketchbook in hand, was prepared to capture Malleus’s likeness once again.

However, her curiosity had gotten the better of her tonight. She had grown so used to his company that she had momentarily forgotten his title as a literal prince.

Her eyes kept darting to his horns, the dark, curved structures that were as much a part of him as his regal demeanor. She couldn’t hold in her adoration any longer. Gathering her courage, she finally blurted out, “Malleus, can I… can I touch your horns?”

The words tumbled out before she could stop herself, and she instantly regretted it. Her face flushed, and she began stammering nervously, waving her hands in a frantic attempt to apologize. “I’m sorry! That was so rude of me. I shouldn’t have—”

Malleus, watching her with his characteristic calm, marveled at her audacity. It was rare a person who would even dare ask him such a thing, and yet here she was, this small, magicless human, filled with curiosity and adoration, doing just that.

He found her ignorance and boldness endearing. With a soft chuckle, he said, “It’s quite alright. You may.”

She stared at him in shock for a moment before he bent down on one knee and lowered his head slightly, giving her better access to his horns. Her hands trembled as she raised them, hesitating briefly before she gently touched one of his horns. It was smooth and cool to the touch, and she couldn’t help but let her fingers wander, tracing the intricate curves and shapes.

As she ran her fingers along his horns, her hands gradually moved into his hair, entangling in the soft, well-kept strands. This was clearly not what they had agreed upon, but she couldn’t help herself. His hair was unexpectedly soft and comforting, and she found herself running her fingers through it, almost forgetting where she was.

Malleus, to her immense surprise, allowed her this intimacy. He typically disliked when people were too casual with him, but with her, it felt different. Her touch was gentle and filled with genuine curiosity, and it felt surprisingly nice.

When she finally pulled her hands away, her face was a deep shade of red. “I’m so sorry, Malleus. I didn’t mean to…”

He leaned closer to her, his eyes glinting with amusement. “May I touch your hair, in return?”

She froze in surprise, not expecting his request. Before she could respond, he reached out and ruffled her hair gently, a slight mockery of her earlier actions. The touch was surprisingly tender, and it made her heart skip a beat.

“You have lovely hair,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

She blinked up at him, still flustered but now smiling shyly. “Oh…. thank you…,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Malleus straightened up, his eyes still fixed on her. “You continue to surprise me, Y/N.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Is that a good thing?”

“Very much so,” he replied with a small smile.

“Um, I made a new drawing of you, but… I forgot to bring it with me.” Y/N’s voice trembled, her heart thumping with anxiety. “Can I… bring it to your dorm tomorrow? I want you to have it…”

It was a big step—after all, she and Malleus had only ever met in the garden at night. By day, they moved in different circles, and he was two grades above her, making their lives all the more separate. Their nighttime meetings had always been their own little world, a space where she’d sketch him and he’d indulge her, sharing stories of Briar Valley or answering her curious questions. But the idea of entering his territory, his life outside their usual routine, felt nerve-wracking.

She braced herself, half-expecting him to refuse. Their friendship, if she could even call it that, had never been formally established. He was her quiet, mysterious muse, and she was the strange, sleepy artist who drew him in shadows and starlight. Despite herself, though, she hoped he didn’t see her as just a source of amusement. She cherished their time together, and the thought of being nothing more than a curiosity to him made her stomach twist.

Malleus, however, seemed blissfully unaware of her concerns. He regarded her with his usual calm, interpreting her nervousness as another shy moment—something she was known for, after all.

“Very well, then. Seek me out after your classes in Diasomnia,” he agreed with a nod.

Y/N’s face lit up, her relief breaking into a bright smile as she nodded eagerly. “Okay! I will.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

That night, after they parted ways, she returned to her dorm, her mind buzzing with thoughts of him. She often wondered how he managed to look so well-rested while she dragged herself through the day half-awake. Somehow, despite their nightly rendezvous, he attended all his classes, excelling in every subject. It was something she’d definitely ask about later, though for now, her focus was on perfecting the drawing she wanted to give him.

The next day, her morning went as expected—late to class, with her uniform haphazardly thrown on. Professor Trein made her stand outside for twenty minutes before finally letting her back in, and she gratefully slipped into her seat between Ace and Deuce. Though the two were notorious troublemakers, they left her in peace, allowing her to nap behind a book she propped up to look as if she were reading.

The following classes went in much the same way: some mild prodding from her classmates in her second class, a merciless session with Floyd in the third where he wouldn’t let her close her eyes for even a second, and finally a lunch break where she napped in the library. By her last class, she was somewhat awake, counting down the minutes until she could go to Diasomnia with her drawing.

As the bell rang, she set off, her heart pounding with excitement and a touch of nervousness. She’d spent so many nights working on this drawing that she wanted it to be perfect. Walking through the school, she felt the usual wary stares and heard the murmurs of students discussing Diasomnia and its prince with hushed voices. Most feared Malleus, but she couldn’t understand why. Perhaps it was because she’d met him alone in the quiet of the night, where they’d spoken freely without any pretense. She couldn’t help but feel that her bond with him was something rare, and maybe a bit fragile, too.

Upon arriving at Diasomnia, she noticed it was fairly quiet. When she asked after Malleus, most simply shrugged or said they didn’t know. A little disappointed, she learned that the third years might still be in lessons. Deciding to wait, she found a cozy spot in the lounge and settled in, passing the time by flipping through her sketchbook, which was filled with sketches of Malleus and scenes of Briar Valley as he’d described them.

Gradually, she began to grow drowsy from the soft, warm atmosphere of the lounge. The couch was incredibly comfortable, and before long, she’d drifted off, her sketchbook slipping onto her lap.

Some time later, the sensation of a weight lifting from her lap stirred her from sleep. She opened one eye groggily and noticed her sketchbook was missing. She shifted slightly, assuming it had fallen to the floor, and shut her eyes again, settling into the warmth of the armrest, deciding to look for it after another minute’s rest.

As Y/N rested peacefully, the sound of soft footsteps drifted through the lounge, though she remained undisturbed. Lilia, who had been wandering through Diasomnia’s halls, paused when he noticed her asleep on the couch. With a fond smile, he tilted his head, taking in the scene. Her presence here was unexpected, yet oddly familiar; she reminded him of Silver, the way she slept so soundly, though perhaps for entirely different reasons.

Lilia's gaze shifted to the sketchbook that had slipped onto her lap, its pages splayed open to reveal a delicate, meticulously drawn portrait of Malleus. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Careful not to wake her, he gingerly picked up the sketchbook, his interest piqued.

“Ohhh, my, what do we have here…” he murmured, flipping through the pages with a mischievous grin. Nearly every other page was filled with sketches of Malleus—his contemplative gaze, his horns under moonlight, the sharp angles of his jaw. Each drawing captured a different side of Malleus, showing an unusual softness to the usually distant prince.

“So many drawings of our dear Malleus…” he whispered to himself, chuckling. The comment stirred Y/N from her slumber, her eyelids fluttering open as she took in her surroundings with bleary confusion.

“Huh…?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. The sight of Lilia holding her sketchbook made her jolt upright, her cheeks flushing.

“Ah, good evening!” Lilia greeted, closing the sketchbook with a smirk as he looked at her, amused by her flustered expression. “Didn’t mean to wake you… though it seems you have quite an eye for detail.” He gave the sketchbook a playful wave.

“Um… th-that’s…” She stumbled over her words, her face warm with embarrassment as she tried to reach for the sketchbook, but Lilia held it just out of reach.

“Is Malleus your muse, perhaps?” Lilia teased, inspecting one of the more recent drawings. “This is really quite impressive. But I wonder… did he know about this little ‘collection’ you’ve made of him?”

She stammered, her hands shaking as she reached out. “N-no, he just… I mean… um, it’s for practice! Just practice! He has, uh, interesting… features.”

“‘Interesting features,’ is it?” Lilia laughed. “Yes, I’m sure the horns and dragon scales make for good practice. I’ll have to tell him he’s become quite the artist’s inspiration.”

Y/N’s face reddened even more, and she quickly snatched the sketchbook as Lilia relinquished it with an amused smile. Just as she was about to stumble over another explanation, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Y/N,” Malleus’s calm voice echoed as he entered the lounge, looking between her and Lilia. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

“Oh, Malleus!” She nearly jumped, clutching the sketchbook to her chest. Malleus’s gaze softened when he looked at her, though his attention soon turned to Lilia, who was watching them with a look of dawning realization and unrestrained amusement.

Lilia clasped his hands together with a dramatic sigh. “My, my, Malleus. I didn’t know you had such devoted company in our dorm, coming here to deliver artwork no less.”

Malleus raised an eyebrow, glancing between them as understanding dawned on him. “I see you’ve made yourself acquainted with Y/N.”

“Oh, yes, indeed,” Lilia replied, giving Y/N a conspiratorial wink. “She’s quite the talented artist—though I must say, your likeness seems to be her specialty.”

Y/N ducked her head, overwhelmed and burning with embarrassment, but Malleus simply looked at her, intrigued. “Is that so?” he asked, a slight smile gracing his lips as he reached a hand out toward her. “If it’s ready, I’d like to see it.”

Flustered, she nodded, opening her sketchbook to the finished drawing she’d been working so hard on, holding it out with trembling hands. Malleus examined it, his expression softening as he traced the lines with his gaze.

“It’s… beautiful,” he murmured, glancing at her with a look that held an unusual warmth. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Beside them, Lilia’s eyes gleamed with silent amusement, watching the two of them with interest. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you two alone,” he said with a wink, sauntering off with a chuckle. “Just don’t keep her out too late, Malleus. I’m sure she needs her rest for all those upcoming drawings, hmm?”

Malleus watched Lilia disappear around the corner, shaking his head slightly as a small sigh escaped his lips. Turning back to Y/N, he noticed her still clutching her sketchbook tightly, her cheeks flushed. A gentle smile softened his normally serious expression, and he inclined his head to catch her gaze.

“You don’t need to be so nervous,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s only me.”

She managed a small, tentative smile, but the blush on her cheeks remained. “I know,” she murmured, looking down. “I… just didn’t expect Lilia to… well, you know…”

Malleus chuckled quietly. “He does have a way of surprising people, doesn’t he? Though I find it intriguing how many drawings of me you’ve created. I hadn’t realized I was such an interesting subject.” He paused, an amused gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. “Or perhaps I’m only interesting when it’s nighttime?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as his words sank in. Her blush deepened, and she stammered, “I-I mean, you’re… interesting all the time, I just… it’s easier to focus on drawing when there’s less going on. At night, you’re… well, easier to approach.”

Malleus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Am I, now?”

She nodded quickly, gripping the edges of her sketchbook. “Yes. I… I feel like I can be myself more when it’s just us. I don’t have to think too hard about… everything else.”

A warm silence settled between them, broken only by the soft rustling of the leaves in the courtyard beyond the lounge window. Malleus took a seat beside her on the lounge sofa, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. His hand rested casually on the cushion near her, though she could sense his attention focused entirely on her, an intensity lingering behind his composed demeanor.

“And I quite enjoy these moments we share at night,” he said quietly. “They are rare moments of solace. There aren’t many with whom I’d wish to spend this time.” His gaze was steady, almost possessive as it held her own. “You’re… different, Y/N.”

The way he spoke made her heart skip a beat, a warmth spreading in her chest that was both comforting and strangely unsettling. She swallowed, glancing down as she fumbled for words. “I… well, I like being here with you, too.”

Malleus smiled, satisfied with her response, and gestured toward her sketchbook. “May I see more?”

Wordlessly, she handed the sketchbook over, feeling a flicker of shyness as he carefully flipped through the pages.

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