#letting it sit in his head as he turns it about subconsciously. most times it works- sometimes he just Has to talk through it with someone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goaskangel · 3 months ago

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pussy job w perv!toji and his sweet virgin gf !

cw :: overstim, slight dubcon, use of 'kid', sexy pussyjob !!!!

toji holds you through the night like you’ll slip right out of his hands if he even thinks about letting go. he loves ending the day with you spooning in bed beside him. either facing him so he can kiss your pretty face to sleep, and feel the way your tits press up nicely on his body through your thin tank top. maybe you're facing away with your body snug up against him so he can smell the aromatic scent of your shampoo and lotions, and how your ass pushes back on him subconsciously.

he cannot get enough of it, seriously. especially when you're so willing to take this time to let him touch you.

you’re comfortably laying in your dimly lit bedroom with toji assaulting your neck with quick pecks, taking your tied up hair and exposed skin to his advantage. he’ll stop when your fit of giggles turn into small slaps on his arm that’s curled around you.

“can’t help myself, baby,” stroking that hand on your soft jaw, “you’re just too pretty.”

you turn to face him and snuggle up, your face rubbing perfectly on his chest. warming up on him like a cat, your hands finding their place rubbing his stomach. you can’t help but think he’s so perfect like this, domestic and resting in a shirt he’l take off later in the night and plain boxers. he sighs when you plant kisses on his clothed chest.

you look up to him and scoot up to kiss him, toji’s hands coming to keep your head straight as he practically kisses all the breath from your lungs. keeping a steady pace before you squeeze the sides of his body. he pulls away just inches away from your face and slowly turns you to your back, his big body hovering right over you.

“now? toji—”

“mhmm. told you, can’t help myself, pretty.” digging back in your neck, he takes deep inhales of your sweet scent before lapping like a dog. the heavy breathes he takes and the groans he lets out, god, the feeling of his wet tongue licking at some of your most sensitive spots makes your virgin cunt spill excessively behind your panties.

“toji—”

“i’m getting there, kid, don’t worry.” he presses a couple of softer kisses on your blushing face and hooks his fingers on the band of your panties. he tosses them and admires your slick little cunt in the dim light he has before running fingertips gently from your puffy clit to your soppy hole. he leans down a bit and spits obscenely at your waterfall of a pussy, chuckling to himself at the vulgarity. you almost whine at him while bucking your hips before he holds you down and interrupts,

“trying somethin’ new. trust me, alright doll?”

you nod and watch him toss his shirt, the slight weight gain he’s putting on hypnotizes you. a good amount of pudge sitting at his lower stomach with more on his arms and thighs. hell, if he decided to fuck you now, you couldn’t complain. he discards the boxers as well, giving himself a few strokes as he places wet kisses on your twitchy clit before kissing your face again. distracting you from feeling the hefty weight of his cock—a sudden weight you couldn’t ignore—slipped right between your folds.

“mmm! oh god..” whimpering right into his mouth as he whispers gentle praises right back, kissing you softly as he moves his hips slightly, just to feel the precious perfection of your cunt. until you start moaning longingly, he keeps a steady pace and finally speeds up.

he grinds his cock between your puffy folds, coated and drooling with slick and saliva. groaning occasionally when the underside of his tip rubs on your hot, hot clit, stimulating both of you.

“feel good, huh, baby? ‘m right there—fuuck, just a little more and i could be right inside you. mhmmhm, and jus’ fuck your little virgin cunt,” he fucking laughs when you shake your head, “no? you don’t want your boyfriend to finally fuck through your cute pussy, huh? but you’re so fucking wet, dolly. your sweet cunt’s jus’ asking for it.”

he leans back and teases your entrance, which is fluttering at just the thought of him pressing in. totally raw and unprotected deflowering because he just couldn’t help himself, you moan out and squeeze his arm when he rocks to catch the tip of his thick cock to your needy virgin hole. tears swell in your pretty eyes, either upset that he’s teasing you about this or maybe because you just wanna come. he gets this instantly and kisses your heated forehead, holding his heavy cock down with his thumb and rubs continuously on your clit.

the chubby, raw bud burning with excitement as you roll your hips to achieve more of that sensation, your fingers digging into your man’s buff shoulders as he makes you both climax. hot ropes of semen coming undone on your clit and mound, maybe next time he’ll get oh-so lucky ^3^

OUHHHH MAYBE NEXT PART IS THEEE PART

read part one, two, and three!

taglist : @tojisfourthbiatchoftheweek@booboobear-12@anthy-jay-ander@euhphoq@duooy@imnotlurkingherepls@satorusprites@kaypinkess@hisarmsaremycocoon@idkk9@channnee@chjinua@thatbitch4u@samisfunky@viluvs-u@doeeyestoji@sxwgal0

masterlist

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bernardsbendystraws · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐬 — 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: Chris is obsessed with your tits.

Warnings: Smut, pervy Chris, obsessive Chris, body worship, and more.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

00: Pretty Tits

Your chest was something your boyfriend was very fond of. He couldn’t help but ogle you, sometimes forgetting you were his girlfriend as you stripped and changed in front of him. Every inch of your body was absolutely mesmerizing to Chris, but your tits…they had that man under a spell.

The relationship had still been so new when you realized how much your body affected Chris. You weren’t even official. Light teasing had Chris turning red as you called him out for staring at your cleavage.

01: Teasing

“I…–’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I–” he rambles on, trying to save an ounce of dignity. There’s a fear that’s telling him he’s making you feel uncomfortable, but you’re more than comfortable when you realize the dynamic.

You have all the power over that man.

You pet his bicep, sitting on his lap as he swallows thickly. He gulps audibly, his eyes watching your tits bounce as you get comfortable. “--’s okay, just couldn’t help yourself, hm pretty boy?” you taunt. Chris nods with wide eyes, trying to maintain eye contact and miserably failing as you push your chest up against his.

“Oh my, fuck…what are you doing to me…” he grunts out softly as you laugh into the crook of his neck. The hairs on his arm stand. Every teasing breath you leave lingering on his skin leaves him breathless, heaving at the fact that you’re pressed up against him.

Tracing the tip of your nose along his jaw, you grasp his cheek. His eyes look at you with a lustful glance filled with awe. “--’m just havin’ fun, Chris,” you purr with a slight grin.

Letting out a shaky breath, Chris squints his eyes shut in an attempt to calm his filthy thoughts–-thoughts that were all about your breasts. He imagined how you’d moan while he got to suck on them, how you’d squirm. The sensitivity of your nipples was flashing through his mind with a desperation to find out. He needed to know how hard he could nibble on the buds with you gripping his hair hard.

“Fuck,” His response is dry, but his shaky tone makes your heart pulsate with excitement.

02: Hurts

Progressing further into the relationship, Chris became more comfortable in his fascination with your tits. He showed zero shame most of the time, but sometimes…the shame he held while begging on his knees was inspiring.

“Please, ma. Just…I jus wan ‘em in my mouth,” he whispers while staring down at your nude breasts.

Sure, he had sucked them plenty of times, but nothing quite as hungry as this.

You’re grinding down on him, his briefs covering his hard cock that seems to be profusely leaking excessive amounts of precum. The movements of your body had made your tits so enticing to him, so intoxicating. He already had begun sucking them, but you pulled him away as his teeth kept nibbling with more aggression on the sensitive buds.

“Chris, no biting—”

Shaking his head, he starts adjusting your position. Gently laying you down, he crawls up your body, leaning his weight between your legs against your pussy that radiates heat onto his lower abdomen. He can feel how wet you are, he wants to see how wet he can get you with just his mouth on your tits.

“Relax,” he litters small affectionate kisses, softly fondling your breasts. “--m gonna make it hurt so good, baby. Just–pull my hair and tell me if it’s too much, m’kay?”

“I–” his lips suction around the bud of your tit, sucking with loud slurps as his fingers pinch your other nipple teasingly. “--oh–okay,” your hips have a mind of their own as you subconsciously start grinding against his lower abdomen slowly.

“Mhmmmm…” Chris hums, not releasing his mouth from your body as he smirks from your reaction. Your soaked pussy desperately trying to create friction on his lower stomach has him filled with pride, progressively letting his actions increase in passionate motions and intensity.

Broken shrieks and moans leave your mouth as he lets his teeth clamp with just enough pressure, it’s almost unbearable, but it feels fucking good. It really feels fucking good. Chris is able to analyze this by your pussy dripping hot slick down his abdomen as your hips increase in pace.

“Mmmm, yeah?” There’s a slight lisp to his words as he only pulls his lips open, not his teeth. The pressure around the sensitive bud makes you melt in blistering euphoria. You could cry. It feels so good. “--so wet, ma. Drippin’ down to my cock, shit,” he rasps.

03: Hurts More

It’s further down the line when Chris develops a slight annoyance for your bigger chest. He hates how much they poorly affect you at times.

Your first sign of your period arriving was your breasts becoming so sensitive they felt like bruises. It hurt. Sometimes even walking too fast down the stairs nearly had you in tears from the pain and discomfort.

Chris was trying to comfort you. Usually, he’d lay in your chest while you pet over his hair at the end of the day, but as soon as he had let any weight fall onto your sensitive body, he jolted up when he heard the pained shriek leave your mouth.

“What’s wrong? Baby, what was that?” he asked, his eyes searching your body for any bruises or signs of pain.

He’s listening intently as you explain your body’s way of warning you about your upcoming cycle. The scowl written over his face is for a multitude of reasons—he’s upset you’re in pain, he’s upset he caused some of that pain, and he’s livid that he has to be cautious and keep his distance because of some bodily function that doesn’t quite make sense to him.

“That’s fuckin’ stupid, I’m sorry. Want me to massage you, baby? I can be extra soft on ‘em,” he offers. You nod, desperate to find some sort of relief in your aching joints and tense muscles.

After massaging your entire body and taking his time, he finally gets to your chest. He’s delicately letting his fingers soothe the oil into your skin, his facial expression relaxing as he hears you hum with relief.

Your body in his hands is mesmerizing–the obvious tent in his pants confirms this. He can’t help it though. It’s his body's natural reaction to having such pure perfection in front of him.

“Want me to suck you off or something?” you suggest, half-joking.

Chris shakes his hand, continuing his ministrations as he plants a very gentle kiss on the mound of your breast. “Mm-mm, wan make my girl feel better. Don’t worry about me, just relax,” he says.

04: Worship

Years together and Chris still worships your body. His hands grip your hips as he thrust himself into you slowly, sucking on your bouncing tits as he keeps a steady rhythm.

“Oh, fuck–right there!”

Your scream encourages Chris further. His dick pounds into just the right spot over and over again. Teeth clamp down with passionate lips surrounding your tit as he sucks the skin in harder.

“Right here, baby?” he taunts. Crying out, you moan loudly as you feel the buildup of pleasure combust with too much bliss spreading blistering heat throughout your body. Your bones are practically vibrating as your pussy squelches against his cock. “Yeah,” he speaks with his words falling from the corner of his mouth, his mouth unrelenting as he praises your tits with attention. “--righhhht fuckin’ there…” he coos.

“Oh, Chrissss!” you whine out, beginning to become overstimulated. Chris tuts as he pops your tit from his mouth. Holding your hips, he drags you down to his hard length, hitting deep inside you as he furiously chases his own orgasm.

Noticing his sputtering hips as he becomes compliant to his bodies unrelenting squirms and writhes, you take over. Your hands clasp on his shoulders as you ride him with complete control and lazy huffs of air escaping through strained moans. “Fuck, Chris, can’t take much more, please,” you urge.

His hands both reach out to your tits, groping them harshly as his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Oh my god, baby, oh my fuckin’ god,” his mouth slides open further as his head whips back. “--m cumming, cumming for you, fuck,” his hands are squeezing onto your bouncing tits desperately as he hisses and lets out a string out hard moans. “--my pretty fuckin’ girl and her big tits, hm? Mmmm—my big tits, all for me, huh? Oh shitttttt…” he trails off, his hips slowing and breathing becoming slower as he finishes inside of you.

Harsh heaves of air slowly calm as you sit still with his dick still inside of you. Chris peeps open his eyes lazily, leaning forward to kiss your breasts. Laughing at his antics, you ruffle his hair.

“What are you doing?”

Chris is quick to answer your question with zero shame.

“Kissin’ my pretty tits, ma. Duh.”

#bbs.chris.fics.favs #⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊˚ ⋅ rose toy writes #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo

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elizzsush · 1 year ago

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Fae Courting Rituals | TWST

Diasomnia Dorm X Reader

Lilia X Reader, Sebek X Reader, Malleus X Reader, Silver X Reader

---- Fae are typically taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 3/3)

Note: Was going To add silver to this list. (I know he isn't a fae, but he was raised by one) but was too tired to write for him)

Savanaclaw Ver. | Octavinelle Ver

Sebek:

He starts following you around for some reason.

Seriously, one day he just woke up and decided to not leave you alone. It helped that you guys shared a bundle of classes together.

You had no clue how you befriended the green hair boy. You weren't complaining though, in this school, where everyone is so set in their ways, you liked having the extra layer of protection that was the loud half fae: Sebek.

He was loud and denies it however, whenever you point out he follows you. He claims to not having even realized he was doing such a thing. "I would never follow around a mere human!" He shouted out his claims with a red face.

It could be true. He did get somewhat spacy sometimes if you'd believe it.

He had a packed schedule, or so he claimed, yet he always found time to be around you. It made a warm feeling blossom in your chest, well, of course before he used this time to rant about Malleus. "Wakasama is the most kind and fit ruler of-" He'd ramble, you'd sigh; put your face in your hand and lean a bit closer to him. You enjoyed hearing him so passionate, even if it was... constant.

He didn't have an off switch, that didn't have to be a bad thing.

Plush, you didn't hate his voice. Not that you'd be as loud about your likes as he was for his.

Though you were pretty positive your friends... and most of the students at NRC were in fact sick of his voice. People have also noticed he is more vocal around you.

Which is… a good thing?

The oddest thing happened once. At one point when the two of you were relaxing in ramshackle. A bag of popcorn and a shitty TV you got on sale at Sam's shop. He wasn't being loud for once in his life, instead his attention was focused on the screen.

You two were sitting pretty close together when, he had grabbed your hand and laid his head on yours. Was he... cuddling you?

You couldn't help but smile and continue to watch the movie. You didn't want to comment on it, you knew if you did, he'd probably get up, make a huge deal out of it (with a red face), and leave.

He started rubbing his forehead against yours before he finally pulled away like it never happened. It was oddly affectionate.

You didn't even think he knew that he was doing it.

He began to do these affectionate things while he was focused on something else. Either it be a show at the movie nights you organized with him, or if he was studying a bit to hard with you.

Your friends wondered how you even managed a movie night with the loud boy but you just shrugged.

Eventually, you had to face it: You really like Sebek.

You really liked this brash boy with a thick skull.

You knew however, even if he did like you back. He'd never admit it, let alone go out with you.

It left you with this odd feeling. A dull pain that ranged from a small ache to feeling like Throns were wrapping around your heart, piercing the organ in your chest.

You tried not to let that get you too down. Instead, you watched him across the lunchroom as subconsciously he blew bubbles into his drink, his green eyes finding yours...

So yes, you'd listen to his rants. You'd go out of your way to hang out with him, you'd enjoy his company while you could.

Because you knew, sooner or later, he'd realize it too. The same reality you had to face. And...

well...

He wouldn't face it.

He'd probably turn you away and never speak to you again. And you'd be fine with that. Even if you didn't want to be because you...

Well, let's save that for another day.. "Hey Sebek, lets hang out!"

"I suppose I can make time for you, Human!"

Lilia:

He was out to get you.

You noticed it. Almost everybody noticed it. You just didn't know what you did to him! He'd pop up everywhere and scare you! Right before disappearing away.

This counted as bullying, right?

You were starting to get... slightly paranoid.

You enjoyed Lilia's company, you really did. But you were tired of constantly looking over your shoulder. So, you started to avoid him, just a bit.

Your own personal revenge for the paranoia.

Now, Lilia has lived a long life. He knows what he's doing and is just having fun. He liked you, he did, but he probably isn't going to be that serious about this. He's in it for the vibes.

So when he see's you avoiding him... he well... He serenades you from outside ramshackle.

He makes his intentions very clear with a love song!

A boombox in Sebek's hand, and a tired Silver who followed along because... well Lilia was making Sebek hold a bomb box and traveling in your direction.

Lilia song his heart out for you. "Everybody loves somebody sometime!~ And although my dream was-"

"It is 2am!! The perfect will go out with you tomorrow!" Grim shouted out the window with a grogy done with it tone. After you threw a pillow at them.

NOTE: Sorry this one is short but I have a hard time writing for Lilia

Malleus:

What do you mean? You started courting him first. Very brave of you indeed child of man. He had even commented on it while you handed a piece of treasure!

That was... well, it was a cheap polished rock. It was well... shiny...?

It started very small. He accepted your gift and was expecting a bit more to be honest. Not even he was exactly sure how this courting would work out; he was prepared to be the one to pursue you!

Initially, he sat back and relaxed. Enjoyed the small sense of harmony you two already had and assumed you guys were dating.

Why would he not? He accepted your courting gift, he assumed their were more to come, the next step up to this would be marriage and he wasn’t sure you were ready for that.

However, you noticed this. You were so confused. He’d began to call you “beloved.” Which was a 180.

When did you two…? Huh??

He’s also been more clingy. Not on the sense he’d follow you around but in the sense of a mountain of handwritten letters and the actual sense that he’s in your personal space when you two do hang out.

So… the two of you are just dating now? “Beloved, you haven’t been responding to my letters. Did I do something?”

“Oh, sorry I just haven’t… quite finished all of them.” You glanced at a room that was empty at one time. Now it held a pile of letters.

This was an exaggeration, they’re were a lot but not a whole room full… yet.

Extra??? Silver:

It started like most seedlings of love, with a dream. A simple one, you were sat beside him, the two of you quiet and happy in each others company. The birds sang as you hummed beside him. The boy was content, more so then he had been in his life.

Then, like it was second nature to both of you. You two shared a kiss, and then he woke up.

Usually, he tried not to lose himself to sleep. But tonight all he wanted was to go back to the dream world and hold you. As soon as the realization crossed his mind however, he woke up even more. Had he ever been this awake? “Am I in love…?”

He, not knowing what to do. Went to Lilia, whom was enthusiastic with this news.

You know when parents find out their four year old has a crush? That’s Lilia, except Silver isn’t four. Every time they see you Lilia shoos Silver off too hang out with you. Sadly, with no prior love life to speak of, silver goes along with it.

Though he is embarrassed about it, he hides it well enough.

“Does Lilia think you like me?” You asked all to happily once, hiding your own happiness behind a giggle at the absurd situation he found himself in.

“Uh, yeah…” he’d just smile at you, his head laying on the lunch table as he was about to go to sleep. he loved to see you laugh even if it was somewhat at his expense. However, Sleep tends to escape him when he was near you. Not that he didn’t feel tired, but he didn’t feel as tired. He couldn’t feel angry about it, in fact he was happy about this. It was like you were some temporary cures for his illness.

Lilia would also insist that Silver gift you things. To show he can provide for you, the Silver hair male couldn’t disagree. So, he’d find things that might fancy you.

His bird and squirrel friends also helped him in his venture to gain your affection. Often leaving flowers at your doorstep and small shiny things.

One day you saw the birds and Squirrels run up to your doorstep, one flower at a time, make a gorgeous bouquet.

You made sure to thank him and his animal friends after that.

In return you'd try and make things for him, find things around he or the animals would like. Nuts for squirrels, seeds for the birds, and a deep red rose you plucked from Heartslabyul during the end of an unbirthday party.

He stayed awake for longer than he ever had that night, staring up at the rose in the dark while his dormmate slept. A smile on his lips as he examined every detail of it.

Ace would call it cheesy. The relationship between the two of you was something out of a romance movie he'd say in a more teasing way. Something like, "Is it Tuesday or Wednesday he's going to chase after you to an airport?" and then roll his eyes. You tell Ace to shut up while looking away with a face as red as riddle's hair.

It was after a test, you pulled your test paper out of your bag ready to check your score after preparing for disappointment when a blue bird swopped down and took it!

You cursed and chased after the bird, rushing past students and looking crazy, eventually you ended up in the forest next to the school.

You were sure you looked ever crazier than you had been running in the school halls, because now you had leaves in your hair, and your shoes were all muddy now...

Eventually, the birds placed the test paper, face down on a certain boy's chest. "Silver... Are you asleep?" You smiled and knelt beside him, a small smile on your face. Rolling your eyes at the perpetually sleeping boy. You sat beside him for a moment taking a deep breath before you grabbed your test.

You almost preferred it this way, to have him here, even if he wasn't fully here. It helped your nerves somewhat. An even bigger smile graced your face as you turned the paper, and a large B was printed at the top.

Standing up, you gifted your friend a small kiss on his forehead and wandered off back to school.

Well, you were stopped by a small, sleepy voice. "Y/N...?"

___________________________

Note: It was this or clean my depression room... Anyway, I want to expand on Sebek's small scenario because I know if it was its own imagine I could make it really good.

Would ya'll enjoy that...?

ANYWAY, these small series is competed! (Unless...?) Thank you for reading them and thanks for reading the note. Not a lot of people do that. Myself included.

I have a hard time writing for Diasomnia...

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kwittuwi · 27 days ago

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★ Bath House —

— Saja Boys x M!Manager!reader (⸝⸝o﹏o⸝⸝) !!

▍𓉸⋆ྀི summary, after a hard week of stressful performances for both you and the saja boys they decided you all deserved a nice relaxing time at the bath house.

▍𓉸⋆ྀི content, fluff.

The whole way to the bath house you were nervous. Butterflies filled your stomach the closer you got. You fidgeted with your fingers keeping your eyes towards the floor, so distracted you bumped into Baby once he had stopped outside the bath house.

Walking into the building getting ready for the warm soak your mind racing. It’s not like you didn’t want this, you just didn’t know if you were ready to see the 5 guys you found attractive, mostly naked and in the same bath as them.

After getting ready in the shower you exhale, it was way too late to back out now. Walking over to the baths you saw all the Saja Boys in one bath waiting for you. Turns out you were in the shower longer than expected overthinking everything.

You slowly walked over to them hoping they wouldn’t notice you. But when you got close they all seemed to turn their heads to look at you. With all the water on the ground you guess you weren’t as quiet as you hoped.

You froze, wide eyed, too nervous to do anything but stand looking at them. Abby’s voice was the one to snap you back. “You gonna come in?” He definitely was trying to tease you but you couldn’t care right now. Slowly you got in the hot bath relaxing your tense muscles as well as all your worries. You subconsciously slipped deeper in the tub till the water was up to your shoulders.

“Looks like you were more tense than you liked to admit,” Baby snickered. He definitely knew why you were tense and took it as an opportunity to tease you. You looked at him from across the bath sitting up straight, only for him to smirk even more.

You all just sat there washing off all your worries into the steamy water. That was until you thought it would be a great idea to submerge your entire body in the hot water. Taking a breath and closing your eyes, catching the Saja Boys' attention, you put your head underwater. You soon brought your head up gasping for air, your mouth hanging open. Trying to get the water off your face you heard the boys all trying to stifle their laughter.

“You good there?” Jinu chuckled. You couldn’t be bothered to look at him.

“Never again,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “Never will I ever put my face under hot water again.” You stared into the distance trying to relax again. It took a couple of minutes till you fully recovered.

You were fine until you felt a finger touch right below your chest. Slowly turning your head you saw Mystery, you looked down at where he was touching only to see red marks from when you accidentally scratched yourself too hard. You looked back at his face and even though you couldn’t see most of it you knew he wanted an explanation along with the other Saja Boys.

Mystery soon dropped his hand as you looked down in the water. “Oh that was just when I accidentally scratched myself too hard.” You tried to giggle it off, subconsciously going to scratch it until you felt Romance grab your wrist. “If you keep scratching it it won’t get better.” You looked at the others, you never realized how much they cared about you.

“When we get back, let's put some ointment on it, ok?” Jinu’s voice was soft as he looked at you. You slowly nodded before a small smile crept up onto your face.

Romance hadn’t let go of your wrist and you didn’t think he would anytime soon. All the Saja Boys had slowly moved closer to where you were. After a while you slowly started to doze off feeling comfortable being around them as well as the hot water surrounding you. You almost fell in before Abby suggested you all leave which they all agreed to.

You felt incredibly relaxed even after you got home. All of you immediately change into comfortable clothes heading into the living room to be in each other’s company as long as possible.

Once you sat down though Romance came up besides you with a bottle of ointment. While distracted Baby had gone behind the couch and lifted up your shirt while Romance rubbed the ointment on. You were too stunned to speak while they all started laughing at your reaction.

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bi-writes · 11 months ago

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Would Simon do cute-sy couple things with MOB in public? Hand holding, kisses/cuddles, pet names? Or since they are out in the open, is he always reserved until they are in a restaurant or in the car- just away from the public eye

mail-order bride

in private, this man is on his knees for his wife. in the car, he'll put his hand over yours on your thigh or just look over at you time to time to check on you. at home, he fixes your hair for you, offers to cut your nails if you don't get them done, oils your hair, brushes it. he learns your skincare routine and will help you in the bathroom mirror, smoothing it over your face and making sure your skin is hydrated and treated. he definitely asked you to show him how you take off your makeup so that he can help you do it at the end of a long day; he'll come into the bedroom with micellar water and cotton and have you lay your head in his lap as he takes it off for you and murmurs how pretty you are.

he loves putting your shoes on for you, especially if there's laces or things to tie. gets on one knee for you and buckles your heels or ties your runners or zips up your boots.

he doesn't like when you use the stool to get to the top shelf. he likes showing off his strength, picking you up to get you to the shelf, groping you a little and making your head spin when he sets you down and buries his face into your neck.

in public, he's still affectionate, but he doens't initiate much. but he never turns his girl away.

he always wears his mask, so kissing doesn't happen much, but you make it work. when he buys you some flowers at the farmers' market, you kiss him over the mask softly, cooing in his ear, telling him he's so nice, he's so kind. doesn't say anything because he's blushing mad under the mask.

when you're walking along the main road checking out the shops, you reach over and take his hand, and he intertwines your fingers gently as you keep walking.

simon always keeps you away from the road. subconsciously even, always getting between you and someone else, always standing at your back, glaring when someone looks your way too long or looks at you funny. he carries your things for you; shopping bags, groceries, heavy packages, he doesn't let you hold a thing, but you don't mind, especially when the items get heavy. you try not to stare too long as he grunts when he lifts up a heavy box for you, big arms bulging as he carries it into the house.

calls you love, sweetheart, luvvie. his most frequently-used petname is baby, he adores calling you that, cause that's what you are to him. in public, baby makes you shy, in the bedroom, it has you a whining, squirmy little mess.

he doesn't love to be too affectionate in public though. the most he does is hold your hand or keep you close; at the pub, he likes when you sit in his lap sometimes, but he keeps it very cool and casual. although he does grip your chin sometimes or say something into your ear, and it definitely has you squeezing your legs together when you think a little too much about it (effortless sex appeal ok).

in a restaurant, simon is just a straight gentleman. opening doors for you, pulling out your chair, taking your purse for you to hold it or set it aside (and to keep you from paying, although it's adorable when you use the credit card he gave you to give to the waiter). when you need to go to the toilet, he gets up, takes your hand, walks you over so he can see you go inside safely. doesn't matter if it's a fast food place or a fancy restaurant, simon is just always concerned about you and can't sit still unless he knows you get to and from somewhere safely.

with his mask on in public, it's a lot of noses touching, foreheads pressing together, chaste kisses through cloth. always brief and always quiet, but they are intimate exchanges anyways. they are almost always silent, and you speak with nothing but your eyes, but you don't need much else with simon. you know each other by now, can read each other, and you take comfort in your new reality.

he is most himself at home, though. most himself without his mask, cooking you dinner, leaning over you as you bake something for him in your new cast iron pan (he saw the red color of it and thought of you in that cherry dress, couldn't help himself). he's most himself feeding the cats, cutting up whole sardines and quail eggs, a pump of salmon oil and some freeze-dried chicken hearts (the black cat prefers veggies, too, in an elevated bowl--the orange one is forced to eat from a lick mat or else she'll eat too fast for her own good). he's most himself watching you in the mirror, stealing glances of you coming out of the shower, tucking you into bed.

and he feels the most alone when he stands in front of you, duffel bag over his shoulder as johnny honks on the car horn outside. he feels the most alone, the saddest, when he tries to ignore your trembling lip and teary eyes as he says goodbye to you.

in his own home, mask on, feeling so close to you and yet somehow, the farthest from you. and when he kisses you goodbye, mask hiked up over his nose, he tries to forget the taste of your tears and the sound of your choked i love you.

if he thinks about it too long, he won't move from this spot.

#ugh why did this get SAD again i guess im in my feels idk what to tell you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

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suksatoru · 5 months ago

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—to the one who understood; shigaraki tomura x reader

synopsis: tomura shigaraki didn't let just anyone into his life. he had built a cage around the most broken parts of himself, yet he willingly watched you slip through the cracks in the walls he'd so carefully constructed—it was either go big or go home, and you went straight for the most vulnerable part tomura possessed—his heart.

tagging @shigarakislaughter because it would be criminal to not tag the head of the tomura shigaraki nation HEH <3 also congrats on your new job bby!! :D

Tomura Shigaraki wasn't a bad person. That didn't mean he was the best—but nobody is perfect. He knows this. So, he doesn't try to be. He's simply his authentic self around you. Tomura never really did think he could ever attract anyone. He's not exactly conventionally handsome, and his humor borderlines between something sinister and wildly crude. But he managed to charm you, somehow.

He'll blame it on your parents dropping you on your head too many times. He'll blame it on Musutafu's hot sun frying all your brain cells—you're truly so stupid for falling in love with him.

Out of all the people you could have been with in the world, you chose the suicidal maniac with ideologies and ways bigger than life itself. Really, him? Tomura doesn't get it.

He doesn't like the way your voice softens when you speak to him. How you even managed to figure out his dislike for loud noises is beyond him. But, you accommodate for Tomura in a way no one has before. He watched you fall in love with him—he watched you go through every stage, and he did nothing to stop it.

He couldn't because it was inevitable: the second your eyes met his, your pupils dilated like a flower in bloom.

You were a new recruit to the league when he first saw you, a wide eyed thing who smiled too much. Tomura hated how there was nothing to dislike about you—he'd glance your way and scoff sometimes, because why can't he find a reason to steer away from you? Something that ticks him off? He refused to accept the fact that maybe you really were just a good person.

Tomura doesn't let people in, it's not his thing. His mind and body are a fortress and no one is allowed entrance inside. It doesn't matter how you make his heart skip or how you soothe the ache in his chest, he'd prefer if you stayed far away from him.

But Tomura kept you at arm's length—torturing himself by keeping you so so close yet infinitely far. He'll let you sit inches away from touching him, but when he glances at you—he imagines a milky way between the two of your bodies, keeping him in line and allowing him to never stray far enough to hold your hand or bump his shoulder against yours.

Kurogiri told Tomura if he ever wanted to pursue someone like you, he wouldn't be against it. Maybe it would be good for Tomura, he suggested. A soul connection was what Tomura had always lacked—and his soulmate was right there—you were right there. But Tomura was stubborn.

Tomura's afraid you'll calm the rage in his heart. He looks at you and he wants to forget all his pain, all his fear, all his hurt—he wants to toss it all into the sea and start anew with you. But the feeling is fleeting, because he pushes it down the moment it blooms in his chest. Stomps on it until there's nothing left.

"Tomu?"

Tomura's eyes tear away from the monitor in front of him the moment he hears your voice. Subconsciously, Tomura straightens in his seat and regards you with a glare, one that was more affectionate than filled with its usual malice reserved for everyone else.

You grin at his silent invitations once he beckons you into his room with a careless hand, telling you to close the door as he spins his chair to face you. Tomura's posture is as if he's sitting in a throne rather than a gaming chair, and your lips twitch at the sight—he notices your barely contained smile and sighs

"What do you want?" he murmurs, turning back to his monitor before he gets back to work. At least, that's what he hopes you think—he's clicking on random things, trying to look like he's busy or occupied with something. But the folder he closes and re-opens over and over doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"I see you've cleaned your room!" You grin, crossing your legs as you sit down on the edge of his newly made bed. Tomura rolls his eyes, folding a fist under his chin as his eyes stayed glued to his monitor

"Only 'cause you wouldn't stop nagging me about it. You're really annoying, you know that?"

Your smile only widens, and the sight makes something in Tomura's stomach flip. He ignores you, glaring at the screen in front of him and praying to the universe his heart would stop beating so fast already.

"I'm proud of you, Tomu. I know you don't hear it often from me, but I really mean it. I think you care more about this kind of stuff then you let on." You say softly, and you can see Tomura's muscles tense for just a second before they go slack—a sign that his undoing was truly your praise.

There's a light pink dust coating his cheek. He stares at you silently, blinking and waiting for you to continue on with something like "Ha, just kidding!" —anything to go against what you'd just said. But you're so sincere it almost hurts. Tomura's eyes widen a fraction when you hop off his bed with ease, moving past him and towards the door to leave—you're talking about how you're going to go pick up some dinner for the two of you from the corner store, sending him a cheeky grin he knew far too well before you placed a chaste kiss onto his cheek

"See you later, Tomu!"

Tomura stares at the door for a full minute after it closes. Then, he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and slumps in his chair. For the first time in a while, Tomura cries. He cries because you're the kindest person he'd ever known.

Your son looks nothing like Tomura.

It's still Tomura's son, of course. But the boy grasping your hand right now has black hair, mused from the wind outside and wide brown eyes—sparkling with youth and joy. In his small hands is a card, and he holds it with vigor as he walks with you, chatting about his day at kindergarten today.

Of the pictures online, Tomura is depicted as a monster, with untamable white hair and the cruelest red eyes. That wasn't your Tomura, you had the pleasure of knowing the real one.

"I really hope dad likes my card. Ma, did you know I got to use my new markers in class today? Kenji even said they're the coolest markers ever! They draw so well!"

Your son's smile reminds you of a certain someone. You'd only seen the subdued look of genuine happiness in Tomura's eyes—he could never be truly happy after all he'd been through. Your son's emotions were more fleshed out—he is what Tomura never could be. Happy.

"That's nice, Tenko. I'm glad you liked those markers. How about this, we have a drawing competition with those very same ones after we're done visiting your father, okay?" You smile, gently pinching his cheek as he nods enthusiastically with a toothy grin. His eyes catch sight of something behind you—and he's off running a second later.

"Careful!" you laugh, following his excited footsteps as he finds the familiar headstone with the name Tenko Shimura engraved neatly on the top. Carefully, you pick up the old bouquet you'd left last week on his grave and replace it with the new one you and your son had picked up this morning.

Tenko launches into a full story about his newest comic after carefully placing his card down onto the grass, curling up against his father's headstone—giggling and smiling wistfully as he tells him all about his day.

Naming your son after Tomura was oddly fulfilling.

Your son is everything Tomura could have been if love had found him sooner—he could’ve been happy. The world was cruel, but it also gave you Tomura. It allowed you to love him, even if you came too late. Even if he was too far gone. And even after all that happened, Tomura didn't leave you all by yourself.

While Tomura's eyes are different from Tenko's—they both had the same enamoured gleam in them whenever they looked at you.

Tenko falls asleep by sunset, and you take your time talking to Tomura. You tell him about your new job, you tell him how Tenko found one of his old video games in your attic and has been playing it nonstop, and you tell him you miss him.

"—a fucking lot. I can't believe you're gone, Tomu. I see you every night in my dreams."

You glance down at the little boy in your arms, running a soothing hand through his hair to confirm he's asleep before smiling sadly.

"I almost followed right behind you. I would have—I woke up in a hospital with no idea that you were gone. Then, they told me I had this little miracle blooming in my stomach and gosh—it was almost like i could hear your laughter ringing in my head." You whisper, remembering the day Tomura died. It was night now, but your town was luckily safe enough for you and your son to go out and visit the nearby graveyard. Though there may be no body laying beneath, the headstone is enough for you to feel closer to Tomura.

You tip your head towards the sky, resting your cheek against the side of his grave. There was a night, you can't remember when—when Tomura confessed he liked your smile.

So, that's what you do. You smile towards the stars and picture Tomura hanging amongst them in the sky—watching you forever. Tomura liked to call you a treasure sometimes. Something good in a world that's rotten.

"You're special to me. So, please don't miss me too much if this all goes wrong. I'd hate to see you sad."

Your fingertips quickly press against your eyes, and you slump against his grave with a whimper. You allow yourself to cry only because your son isn't awake to see it. You cry because you'll have to mourn Tomura for longer than you've known him.

It hurts. That night when you go to bed is the same as all the previous ones. You dream of Tomura and his gentle smile. The only thing that lulls you to sleep is the prospect that maybe, just maybe—he's finally at peace.

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stellamarielu · 3 months ago

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thinking about how pope likes having his hair played with... thinking about him maybe having some sort of fixation with hair... pulling on it, threading it through his fingers, braiding it... Lots to unpack here... girl dad! pope jump scare sorry

Him laying with his head on your lap, or on your chest, just for your hands to instinctively migrate to his curls.

Threading your fingers through his hair, and hearing a subtle sigh of relief when he feels you gently scratching his scalp. Following the pattern of each auburn wave with your fingertips, his body still under your touch.

It’s a comfort mechanism, something he never realized he looked for until you became a permanent figure in his life. Now he searches for the solace at the end of a long day— the therapeutic sensation of your fingertips at his scalp. Burrowing his head against your body and waiting for the salvation of your hands gently tugging through his hair.

He offers it back to you. A subconscious bargain of affection when he runs a hand over your hair while you're cooking dinner. Almost petting it while he stands next to you, listening to you talk about your day. Busy playing with it between his fingertips, getting lost in the texture of your hair and the sound of your voice.

He tugs on it gently when you turn to kiss him. tangling his hands in your hair when you break the kiss to let your lips venture down his jaw.

He fixates on it— his ability to weave your hair between his fingers, pulling and molding it however he pleases. Something in the intricacy of each strand coming together at his fingertips to form an unruly bouquet, feeds his body's need to keep his hands busy at all times.

It grounds him. It’s a refined fidgeting that satisfies the restlessness of his hands.

That’s why he thrives off the consistency of routine in doing his daughter's hair almost every morning.

The repetitive nature of it relaxes him. The gentle brushing and braiding of her hair in his hands transports him to a place of innocent peace, as she sits patiently in front of him, watching cartoons and eating breakfast. The pattern of her dark curls are almost identical to his. He lets his hands fall into the same familiar motions, humming his responses as she talks to him about something that happened at recess yesterday. He takes his job very seriously, making sure every hair is in its place before carrying her lunch and backpack to his truck while she follows sweetly behind.

It’s a habit that comes to fruition under vulnerable circumstances. A tender extension of affection saved for the people he loves most.

#i literally cannot stop thinking about this man #i’m so close to writing a multi chapter fic #like the gun is to my head rn #andrew pope cody #animal kingdom #pope cody #pope cody x reader #shawn hatosy #girl dad! pope #stellamarie chats! pope

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scudevils · 4 months ago

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summer nights — JB9

pairing: joe burrow x fem!reader

warnings: smut, semi public?, teasing, oral (f receiving), established relationships, swearing, not proofread!!

synopsis: wedding joe makes brain go brrr [1.5k]

a/n: i wrote this in like 40 minutes after finally getting some decent pictures whoops

MASTERLIST

fuck he looked good in that shirt.

that was all you could think about for the past two hours, since you'd first seen him in it back home if you were being honest. it didn't help you'd had a drink, practically eye fucking him from across the room, where he was laughing at a joke sam had said, you were sitting, wanting to climb him like a tree.

were you ovulating? that was the only explanation for how badly you needed this man.

it was truly a gorgeous wedding, perfect in every sense of the word, sam and jess were one of the couples you and joe spent the most time with outside of the team, you clicked with jess the day you'd met her and ever since you'd been friends. you were part of her wedding party, the gorgeous dark blue dress she'd picked out for her bridesmaids somehow complimenting everyone.

they matched the blue suit jackets that the groomsmen had on, the one that rested over your shoulder when joe noticed you'd gotten a chill after the service.

joe wasn't a big drinker during the season, so it was always fun to see hin let loose without the consequences of an early morning training session. his movements were looser, a smile etched on his face and never leaving, and you loved every minute of it, you couldn't help but laugh at his little stumble when sam tried to get him dancing.

jess plopped herself down beside you, her skirt flowing out like the petals of a flower, heavy breathing as she'd just gotten off of the dance floor. "you gotta come up!" she shouted over the music, taking a swig of the drink she'd left on the table earlier. "cmon!" holding out her hand, you took it with a laugh, acting as though you were being dragged up.

"i can't dance, jess!" you shouted back at her, nearer the speakers now, you could feel the beat of the music through your body.

"neither can he," following where she was pointing at, you found joe and sam dancing together, covering your mouth as you couldn't help but laugh at the scene, you were definitely telling him about this tomorrow and you know he'd deny it.

wether it was the drink, it was most definitely the drink, or a false confidence from seeing joe not care, you followed jess's lead, dancing along to the music, the alcohol flowing through your veins, a smile a permanent feature on your face.

when you opened your eyes again, joe was gone from by sam, your eyes subconsciously scanning the room to find him, and when you didn't, your smile couldn't help bur fall. "i'll be right back, gonna find joe!" you weren't sure if she'd heard you entirely, just nodding her head at your words and trusted you'd be fine.

the music became less clear the further you got away, till it just became noise in the background, no longer thumping in your blood, the cool air in the hallway hitting you like a welcomed truck, only now realising just how hot it was in there.

you heard shuffling from the other end of the corridor, where the entrance to the toilets were and began to walk towards them, if you couldn't find joe, you could at least go to the bathroom. the sound of laughter from the main hall was faint now, finally able to hear yourself think. finally, when you reached the bathroom door, you could feel another presence behind you, hear them being breathing.

disregarding every horror movie you'd ever seen, you turned around to see your potential attacker, clutching a hand to your heart when you realised it was joe, you slapped his chest. "you dick! thought it was gonna die."

his laugh reverberated around you, warm and homely as he apologised for scaring you, his hands lingering on your waist as his fingers absentmindedly drew circles. "have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" joe was a charmer, that was for sure, his words silky smooth.

"sure have, many times." you giggled, that was how he got you, laughing like a school girl who got some attention from her crush, wrapping your arms around his neck as you looked into his eyes. "doesn't hurt to hear it again."

joe dipped his head lower, lips barely brushing against yours, before pressing a chaste kiss to them. "you." kiss "look" kiss "so" kiss "beautiful" and another, your fingers tangling in the short strands of his messed up hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you, needing him closer.

"joe," you whisper against his lips, and he's already moving, his hand leaving your waist for a second as he's opening the door behind you, the bathrooms in the venue only one room rather than stalls, and your already unbuttoning his shirt when you hear the lock click. "been wanting you since we left."

"fuck, i know." he's saying back to you, cradling your jaw in his hand as he's bringing you in for another kiss, messing up your hair even more, his lips tainted a faint pink. "gonna need you to be quiet, okay?"

when you nod at his words, his hand finds the zip on the back of your dress, pulling it down as the front falls, the lacy bra you had on leaving nothing to the imagination, his hand grazes over the flimsy material, hearing you suck in a breath as he teases over your hardening nipples. "been wanting you too, baby, couldn't think right."

he's kissing up the centre of your chest, across your collarbone and up your neck, and you're supposed to just take it, be quiet as he says, but you can't help the small moans and whines that fall from your lips. "no marks," you tell him, joe's eyes flickering to yours. "not where they can see."

you hated how deliberate his touches were, how he knew where to touch to tease you, have you begging for more. joe knew your body more than you did. his hand ghosted down your back, slipping the rest of the dress down your body, pupils blown wide when he sees the matching pair of panties you had on. "gonna be the death of me."

the press of his body against yours was electrifying, every one of your nerves on fire, on edge as his hands went lower down your body, skimming over your clothed cunt, and laughing at your reaction. your boyfriend was a cruel man.

joe was in total control as he was now crouched below you, lifting one of your legs over your shoulder, his fingers rough against yours skin dipping below the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs, "fuck" he muttered to himself.

before you can react, his tongue is on you, flat against yours cunt, lapping as if you'll disappear from him if he doesn't, and your head falls against the wall, eyes screwed shut, tugging on the strands of his hair, inadvertently pushing his closer to you, egging him on.

you had nothing to hold onto but him, your thighs locking his head into place, even if he wanted to move he couldn't, and he certainly did not want to move. his teeth grazing against yours clit had you jolting forward, nearly toppling over him from the force you got up, you disregarded his prior instructions, letting the moans tumble from your lips

there was no stopping it, whines and whimpers following, his name spoken like a prayer, his attack on your cunt relentless, his thumb coming up to circle your clit, the added stimulation had your orgasm rolling towards you. your mouth fell open in a silent moan, feeling his groan vibrating against yours, legs shaking a little as he never relented, thoughts fuzzy.

when joe looked up he swore he had died and went to heaven, wanting to take a picture to remember the moment forever, but alas his memory would do. he was setting your body on fire, raising hairs you didn't even know you had, fingering digging into his scalp a little deeper. "joe,"

your voice gave you away, just barely above a whisper, yet it drove him absolutely fucking insane, the sweet sound of his name from your lips. joe feels your legs shake around his head, squeezing him in and keeping him in his place between them, the hand in his hair having a hold thats teetering on painful, but he only groaned at the feeling. when his tongue leaves you there’s an empty feeling, although still worked through the after shocks by his thumb.

“fuck, you’re amazing.” he’s whispering against yours skin, pressing kisses to the warmth. you look down to see him straining against his trousers, wanting to help him when he stops you, pointing towards his watch. “gotta wait till we get home.”

you know he’s right, but that doesn’t stop your whine of protest.

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow one shot #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow drabble #nfl imagine #nfl smut #nfl one shot #nfl x reader #nfl fic #my second fic of the day who i am #scudevils

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sstarsalignn · 8 months ago

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Forbidden

Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class.You're not too bothered by him, he's just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It's every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.

Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.

Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

2.6k

Add yourself to my tag list | Masterlist

I II III IV V

Class the next week rolls around quicker than you would like. You’re a bundle of nerves, bookbag slipping off your shoulder more times than you’d like. You’re wearing one of your usual outfits, but it doesn’t stop Molly from wiggling her eyebrows at you as you meet her outside the classroom.

She hands you your coffee. “Dressing up are we?” Her tone is nothing but suggestive and it makes you wonder if you subconsciously dressed like this without realising, but you’re pulled from your thoughts with her giggling.

“I’m taking the piss, I can see those cogs turning. I love how you dress,” she grasps your arm in a playful manner as you both walk into class, Molly dragging you to a seat at the bottom of the seats instead of where you usually sit.

Your brows furrow in confusion but Molly just shoos you into the seat at the end of the desk, taking the one next to you. She leans closer, whispering so only you can hear her.

“He’s gonna go insane looking at that tiny little skirt all day long,” you gasp, hands pressed to the desk as you shoot her a disgusted look, trying to stand. Molly pulls you back down as students begin to fill the classroom, yapping away about something her boyfriend did the previous night, completely forgetting the subject at hand.

You drop your chin into the palm of your hand, watching as Rafe emerges from the door that leads to his office. His eyes scan the room- looking for you, you think- before the drop down to the bottom level and he smiles. Until his eyes catch your legs under the table, and the smile fades very quickly. He gulps and looks away, busying himself on his laptop.

You wonder if you’ve done anything wrong until Molly grasps your arm and practically squeals into your ear. “He’s so totally into you! Did you see how he looked at your legs?” It’s your turn to gulp, eyes watching as his biceps strain against the polo he’s chosen to wear today.

“It’s nothing, Mol. You’re seeing things,” you mumble, as the final few people stumble into class.

“Welcome in guys, we’re uh- doing some paperwork today in preparation for your upcoming exam,” Rafe takes a stack of thick papers off his desk, moving towards yours and Molly's table first. He passes Molly her paper no problem but when it comes to you, he slowly places it in front of you, lingering for longer than he should do.

Then he moves on, like nothing happened, handing out papers to the rest of the class. Molly practically smashes her knee against yours under the table and you roll your eyes, opening the paper.

The class drags on for what seems like forever as you can barely focus on your paper- stealing glances up at Rafe who’s doing anything but look at the class, his head buried in a book so deep you wonder if he’s trying to disappear.

When the end of the class eventually comes, Rafe places his book on his desk and beings to bid everyone farewell. The majority of the class rush out like usual, passing their papers to Rafe as he stands by the door. You’re still packing with Molly when Kendra saunters down the stairs, purposely swaying her hips in the shortest skirt you’ve seen.

You have to suppress the urge to call her a slut as she passes you- dropping her paper behind her. You look over at Rafe and see him watching, otherwise unbothered until Kendra lets out an “oops, dropped my paper,” and bends over to pick it up.

You can see Rafe immediately close his eyes as she flashes all she’s got, taking her time picking up her paper before grinning and skipping over to Rafe. She places it on top of his pile, hands lingering for a little too long.

“Sorry, Rafey, dropped it. Didn't mean to,” you can see her blinking up at him, trying to act all innocent but you’re pretty sure you can hear her eyelashes trying to take off in flight.

Rafe clears his throat, nodding down at her as she finally leaves.

“Can you believe that whore?” Molly asks, louder than you’d have liked her to. It alerts Rafe to your presence and he sighs, walking over to his desk and taking a seat.

“Anyway, got to go see Ryan, love you,” she kisses you on the cheek and passes you her paper, winking before dashing out of the door. You internally curse her before taking a shaky step toward Rafe’s desk, papers in hand. He smiles up at you, opening his hand to take them from your grasp.

“So, did you think about my offer?” He asks and you nod almost immediately, watching the smile grow on his face. “And?” He begins to flip through your paper.

“I’d like the help, sir,” you find your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes scanning your own paper to try and spot mistakes before he does. Rafe freezes, and you wonder what for, but it doesn’t last long before his eyes are meeting your own again.

“Great, we’ll review your paper in my office,” he stands, beckoning for you to follow him.

“Now?” You quip, shuffling your bag on your shoulder. Rafe nods, opening the door and standing in the doorway and waiting for you to walk through.

You were scared of what would happen behind that closed door, thinking back to your conversation with Molly. If he did make a move, would you reciprocate? You weren’t sure. You’d hoped it was just studying, but with the way he was looking at you right now you couldn’t be certain if those were his only intentions.

You let out a small thank you as you head into the office, which is small and dimly lit by a lamp on the desk in the middle of the room. There’s loads of pictures of him and two girls in frames all around the room, family, you think.

Rafe shuts the door behind him and you’re not sure if you hear the soft click of the lock before he’s moving around you, to get to his side of the desk. His gaze is burning as you take a seat across from him and he settles the paper inbetween the two of you.

You’re graciously aware of how his knees are surrounding your own underneath the table and it makes you feel so weird- but you don’t move.

“So, I think when you’re including these formula in your papers, you’re lacking the explanation as to how you got the formula,” he begins and you nod, hands resting at the edge of the table.

His own fingers glide across the paper as he reads your writings, before stopping on one of your explanation paragraphs.

“This is a perfect example. You’re explaining the formula and how it gives me that answer but you’re not telling me how you figure out the beginning,” he leans closer, pushing the paper towards you to show what he means- knees brushing against your thighs as he does so.

The notion doesn’t disturb him but it sends a jolt through you, gasping as you try to push your legs closer together. Rafe’s eyes lock onto your own, sparkling up at you.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.” You respond straight away, heart beating a thousand miles an hour. He grins, moving on with the paper.

You look around the office again, trying to calm your heart down. “How old are you?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, looking at a picture of him with longer hair, the two same girls from other photos present in this one.

Rafe laughs, hearty as he leans back in his chair. “Twenty seven,” you almost gasp again, but push it back down as you compose yourself.

“You don’t look twenty seven,” you say, voice uneven. You hope he doesn’t notice, but the smirk on his face paints a different story. He notices you looking at the picture of him with longer hair.

“I was 20 in that photo, home for the holidays for Christmas,” you notice him adorning a Christmas jumper and nod, feeling a sudden flush of embarrassment course through you as you look back down at the paper.

“The uh, paper?” You question, and Rafe shakes his head. “Everything else is okay, I’ve already looked.”

You nod, drumming your fingers against the desk.

“Okay, so-” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting all skittish,” he folds his arms over his chest and you have to fight yourself to not look at his biceps. You nod at him, deciding it’s a good enough answer to give.

“See, I think I know what’s wrong. You’re getting all hot and flustered because you’re in a room with me,” he concludes and you’re sure, if it were possible, your eyes would pop out of your head. You’ve never shook your head so fast, watching as Rafe smirks, leaning forward to place his crossed arms on the desk.

“Im just messing with you,” he laughs, and you’re unsure for a second if he actually is messing with you, hands gripping the edge of your skirt so much that your hands almost turn white.

Finally, you breathe, collecting your thoughts as you feel Rafe’s eyes burning into you.

“You’re very beautiful when you’re nervous,” he murmurs, hand reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Not joking. So not joking. He’s not joking.

Your heartbeat picks up the pace again as his hand lingers there, thousands of emotions running through you at once. Your eyes meet his own and he finally drops his hand, letting his fingers dance across the edge of the table. You can’t help but watch, cheeks scarlet.

“Do I make you nervous?” He asks, fingers dancing closer to you. You shake your head again, wishing you could be anywhere but here. You’re not entirely sure what’s happening right now.

“I think I do, look at you. Poor little thing, can’t even speak,” his hand begins to play with the edge of your coat, thumbing the material.

“I uh- I’m not sure what’s happening,” you squeak out and Rafe laughs, leaning back in his chair. He runs a hand over his face like he’s composing himself before shuffling down the chair, legs enveloping your own more than you thought possible.

“Nothing, nothings happening, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You’ve never left an office so fast. Flustered, warm, legs shuffling together to try and alleviate some of the pressure building up. Nothing helps. You dash to your car, desperate to get home and rot in bed for a while.

You literally couldn’t think, brain fuzzy, and it baffles you as you pull up outside your apartment that you’re actually home, because you don’t remember driving there.

Slumping back into the seat, you turn the ignition off and wipe a hand over your face.

What. The. Fuck.

Molly is the first person to know. You’re sure she breaks fifteen road traffic laws to get over to your place, and when she finally arrives, she practically flies through your front door and into the kitchen where you’re cooking and nursing a bottle of wine.

No glass.

“Tell. Me. Everything,” she heaves out, grasping her chest as she leans against the doorway of the kitchen. You’re stirring the pasta, before turning around and finally grabbing some glasses for the wine.

“I found out he’s twenty seven- oh and he finds me beautiful apparently,” Mollys eyes widen, taking a seat at the opposite side of your kitchen island, hands wrapping around her glass.

“I told you girl! Did you shag him? Oh my god if you did..” she trails off, looking at your stone face and white knuckles wrapped around the spoon.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, taking a sip of her wine.

“I froze up. I literally couldn’t do anything if I wanted to, Molly. I’ve never been like this around a guy before,” you tell her and she nods, eyes glazed over with thought.

“It’s like he completely pulled back though? Like he had a clear thought and just stopped, and then I left,” you finish. Maybe it’s because he remembered how wrong it was, or that you were his student, or that there’s a seven year gap between the two of you.

You’re not sure if that’s the truth. You’ve know this man for three days, and the first time you’re alone with him you can barely speak. You have to rationalise your thoughts- he is just another pretty face to you, but you can help but turn all mushy when he’s near.

Its attraction. Like when you see somebody in the street and think they’re hot- but this must go deeper because you’ve never frozen in the middle of the street when you see a hot guy.

“You’re just really attracted to him and it’s obvious he is to you too. I think you just need to shag him,” Molly announces, sprinkling some cheese on top of her pasta.

You scoff, twirling pasta around your own fork. “I do not want to shag the teacher,” Molly knows you’re lying, and somehow, so do you.

“Yeah and I can fly, if we’re both lying,” Molly mumbles, as she grabs your tv remote to turn on some background noise. “I think you should just shag him, see how you feel,” she puts a nonsensical reality tv show on, turning back to you.

It’s like a battle with yourself. One minute you’re sure you’re not attracted to him, you’ve not known him long enough, but then all of a sudden you’re reminding yourself how mushy he makes you feel- and now you know he wants you too.

You don’t know what to do.

You don’t go to class the next morning. You can’t, can’t look him in the eyes- or maybe you can’t watch Kendra flirt with him again, you’re not sure.

Instead, you spend the day at home, mulling around in bed, tv quietly playing in the background. Whiskers is with you, not having left your side all day and you’re thankful.

Your phone dings, after being mostly quiet all day so you pick it up to see a barrage of texts from Molly.

He asked where you were

Seemed quite pissed that you weren’t in

Kendra tried to flirt with him and he basically told her to fuck off

Girl this man is obsessed

I’ve just left and he asked me to make sure you’re in next week

He wants you for real

Her texts make you feel sick. He wants you for real. The last text replays over and over in your head, making you feel dizzy. Maybe Molly was right, maybe you should try sex with him and see how you feel. Maybe it was just that, you were just very horny for him.

But then, that would make you like everyone else in your class, specifically Kendra, and you didn’t like how that made you feel.

You’d just have to go to class on Monday and see.

Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Whoa. I’m trying not to move it too fast 🥲🔫 Mayhaps a little bit of something mischievous next chapter!

Check out a teaser for a new series here <3

Tags ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

@dudenhaaa27 @outerbankspov @ayy1234567 @rxfecameronsslut @potter-head-phanatic @lilithblackkk

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cosmoszyn · 21 days ago

Note

GIRLLL!!!!! HAVE YOU SEEN THIS??? https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSBH6c7kg/

OMG I've watched this no kidding like 20times straight and it brought me to tears. Like LITERALLY!!!

Since I LOVEE your writing I was wondering if you could write something like this video.. where zayne just think for reader even in his subconsciousness. And reader hearing them. Y'know 🥺

unfalteringly | zayne.

a/n: hi anon! thank you so much for the request (and tiktok vid! i cried when i first watched it), i love writing for yearning zayne and equally yearning mc <3 sorry this took a while, but please do accept this piece <3 i hope you enjoy this as much as i did when writing it!

synopsis: the first time you catch zayne talking about you in his sleep

The silent whirring of the air conditioning bounces across the room, accompanied by Zayne's soft breathing, who is lying beside you on the cramped twin-sized mattress. It was one of the first few nights when you shared a bed with your boyfriend, considering that it hadn't been long since you first started dating. And one of the unspoken love languages you two have shared has always been enveloping each other's warmth during sentimental evenings.

You would find yourself loosely wrapped around Zayne's embrace, duvet tightly tucked over your bodies, slowly succumbing to slumber.

However, there are some nights when sleep doesn't come easily. Similar to tonight. Staring up at the ceiling in deep contemplation, you've been wide awake since your usual nightmare haunted you in your dreams. Zayne has already gone out of his way earlier to coax you back to bed, wiping your tear-stained cheeks and brushing your hair to get some shuteye. Nevertheless, falling back peacefully felt more difficult than usual.

You close your eyes, attempting one more time to fall back to sleep.

And that's when you heard it.

It was barely a mumble, let alone a chatter. Your eyelids slowly flutter, watching your lover from the corner of your eye.

He seemed to be sound asleep.

You were about to turn to your side, steeling yourself to rest, when this time, you caught it clearly.

"Take time off... for her..."

Your heartbeat stutters. Blinking rapidly, you carefully turn your body to face Zayne, growing curioser by the minute. You lay your hands on your sides, afraid that when you graze against him, he'll rouse from his sleep.

"...Stay with me tonight."

Your chest clenches. Is this real? Are you having a fever dream? You squeeze your eyes shut, as if shaking yourself out of a trance. Is your lover of barely a few months seriously thinking about you in his sleep?

You couldn't believe it, perhaps it was just your frail state of mind betraying you. Or maybe it's the lack of rest finally catching up to you.

But the following words that tumble out of his lips prove to you that all of this is real.

"Take good care of her..."

Your heart somersaults out of your ribcage. The weight of the universe was lifted from your shoulders and instead, replaced by the needles pricking your eyes, urging you to choke back the tears silently. Emotions claw at your throat at the realization that Zayne is truly, unconditionally, and unfalteringly in love with you.

Despite the world caving in, Zayne was prepared to pick up the shattered pieces through the best way he knows how, even during his most vulnerable state.

Even with your stifled cries and constant rubbing of your cheeks to rid yourself of the evidence that you just let out another round of waterworks, unbeknownst to you, your lover stirs from his slumber.

The sight of you alone, snivelling and sobbing through the clasps of your hand, sends him into a frenzied panic. He sits up from his position, "My love?" Zayne croaks. You mimic his agitation and actions, profusely wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your nightgown.

You sniffle pathetically in response, "I-I'm okay," you assure.

Zayne shakes his head, gently grasping your wrists and prying your hands away from you, "What's the matter?"

You turn the other way from him, lips quivering and sealed.

"My love, please look at me," he pleads, voice cracking. Gulping down nervousness and embarrassment, you expose yourself to him, tears continuously streaming down your face.

You can see the faint furrow between Zayne's brows, lips slightly jutting out, and eyes wide. His fingers find your temples, brushing away stray strands of hair, "What happened? Did you have a nightmare again?" He asks, barely a whisper.

You shake your head, and Zayne cups your cheeks, thumb grazing over the damp skin. You stare at the wrinkles of his pajamas, fixated on the folds and shadows of the fabric. He waits patiently for your words, gazing longingly at your pained expression.

"I... just realized something," you begin. Zayne slightly nods in acknowledgment, fingertips tracing over the stains on your cheeks. You shift your gaze to his eyes, breathing catching in your throat when you notice the gloss over them.

"I love you."

Zayne's heart leaps out of his chest.

"I love you more than you know," you continued, leaning into the palm of his hand, slowly cupping yours over his.

"My love... What's this?" Zayne asks, perplexed at the sudden declaration of tenderness. You press your lips together, eyes squeezing shut. Shakily, you exhale, "Just realized how I'm so lucky to have you. That's all."

You hear what seems to be a sigh of relief, and you turn back to him, watching the corners of his lips tug.

"You gave me quite a scare," he says, followed by a chuckle.

"Sorry," you reply, pursing your mouth. You clutch Zayne's hand over your cheeks and place it on your lap. "Let's get back to bed?" You murmur. Your lover merely gives you a nod, arm reaching to your shoulders and pulling you close to him.

"I believe you owe me a hug first," he says.

"For what?" You ask, placing your hand on his chest as he engulfs you in his warmth. "For frightening me back there," he replies.

You giggle, "I already said I'm sorry." You tuck closer underneath his chin, inhaling his woody scent, lips barely caressing his skin. Zayne hums, fingers threading through your hair and kissing your temple. And with no words further exchanged, he deftly takes the ends of the blanket and cocoons both of you under the sheets, embracing you closer to him.

As soon as your body hits the soft cushions and you can feel the vibrations from Zayne's methodical breathing, your eyelids grow heavy.

The ticking of the clock echoes throughout the shared space, and the lull of Zayne's nails scratching your scalp soothes you to a delicate slumber.

After seconds of stillness, when Zayne is certain you have gone back to sleep, he whispers right over your ear, "I love you too, my dear."

In the dusk through the dawn, your dreams were nothing more than the recognition of Zayne's sacred devotion towards your relationship, where he treats every puzzle piece dedicated to you as holy—to the extent that he worships your existence even in his deep respite.

screams into the void: zayne i love you

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thehighladywrites · 1 year ago

Text

ACOTAR MEN X READER, SITTING ON THEIR LAP

✩ summary: different scenarios where you find yourself sitting on them

✩ warnings: nsfw, 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of self-doubt, kissing, begging, gossiping, fluff, smut, crack, fun times and soft Eris😭💗

✩ amara’s note: the original cassian hc was so long that i had to stop myself bc i was thirsting and it turned into a regular oneshot lmaooo😭 anyways enjoy babes!!!!💗💗💗

reblogs are really appreciated! :D

RHYSAND

No matter how angry you and Rhys get or how petty the fight is, you two always end up holding hands, even while yelling at each other.

Sitting in his lap while you two argue about random, non important stuff is a standard

You guys just don’t do the whole “no touching” thing

Today, the argument was over who cooks better, both of you bickering pettily.

“Listen, I love you a lot, but the kitchen isn’t your best friend. It's crazy how you can burn an empty pot.”

“Maybe you’re crazy,” you retort, arms crossed over your chest as you step closer to him, leaning against his desk in his office.

He keeps arguing with you, going back and forth, while pushing his chair back from the desk to make room for you.

“Whatever, Rhys. I don’t even need to cook when I can summon anything. It’s stupid, and you’re being unfair,” you mutter as you put your hands on his shoulders and plop down in his lap, subconsciously warming at the way he holds your waist and places one hand on your back to keep you steady.

He suppresses a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks up at your pouting self. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you’re an amazing chef,” he concedes, his tone laced with affection.

“Awww, come with me while I make you something,” you say, flashing him an oblivious smile.

“Oh! Um, you sure we shouldn't order something or..?” he asks nervously, his voice getting higher as he kisses you.

You slip out of his lap and hurry downstairs to plan his meal, assuring him not to worry about ordering anything and to just come down for his favorite meal.

“Dear Gods,” he whispers as he gets up, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.

ERIS

Eris had been stressed out for a few weeks now. Nothing you said seemed to make a difference.

He was dealing with his father’s death, ruling a new court as the heir, and inheriting the High Lord powers. Your heart ached for him. You wanted to be there for him, giving him hugs and words of encouragement, but you were not on that level yet

Today had been the most stressful day yet, resulting in him shutting down and locking himself up in his bedroom.

“Eris, are you okay? Can I please come in?” you knock gently on the wooden door, voice hushed and gentle.

After a few moments of silence, you hear him shuffling behind the door until he opens it very slightly.

He is shirtless, only in a pair of pants. You manage to catch a glimpse of his tired, amber eyes before he turns around to lie in his bed.

The room looks clinically clean, the only disturbance being Eris’s rugged appearance.

Without saying a word, you walk over to him and give him a hug. It’s a long, warm hug that tells him everything he doesn’t allow himself to hear: you’re there for him.

It takes a few moments for him to hug you back, but when he does, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his lap.

Only after an hour of silence does he speak

“I feel like i’m stuck. These powers are killing me, the board is fucking annoying, the folk believe i’m wicked and cruel and i have no idea what to do about anything.”

He looks up at you with desperate eyes, “Do you believe I’m truly wicked?”

You shake your head in honesty. “No, honey. I have not met anyone as smart, kindhearted and brave as you. Others do not know you like I do but they should,” you whisper, hands going through his tussled hair. “You’ve been hiding behind your mask for too long, Eris. Let people see the real you.”

The room goes quiet, the only sound being the beating of your hearts.

Slowly his lips meet yours in a new and experimental kiss. He stares up at you with his pupils blown but before you can apologize and get off his lap, he kisses you again and locks his arm around you

“Thank you,” he whispers between heating kisses, “Thank you, beautiful.”

CASSIAN

“Hi there sugar, what can I do for you?” Cassian asks sweetly as he flicks your nose with his finger, happy that you ran into his office and immediately plopped down on his lap

“Can you fuck me?” you ask, frustrated with the lack of dick lately.

His eyes widen slightly at your words, then he slowly cracks a handsome smile. “Gods. How inappropriate of you,” he teases, the amusement clear in his voice.

His teasing almost makes you sob. This was totally NOT the time. You almost roll your eyes before realizing he will so not give in if you give him that

“Cassian, i’m begging you. I want, no- need to be fucked. Please, i’m losing hearing in my left ear,” you beg as you get closer and sit in his lap, rubbing your hands all over his chest

He looked incredibly good, almost unfairly so. Cassian’s jaw and chin had grown scruffy in a ruggedly masculine way that made him look older and even more attractive.

A week without seeing him had only heightened your weakness for his body, making you throb.

“Losing hearing? You must be really dying for me, huh? Alright then. I’ll let you ride,” he smirks at you while unbuckling his belt.

He finally fucking let’s you fuck, hitting spots that makes you go fuzzy brained.

You make him promise to never be gone again before going for another ride, satisfied when he breathlessly promises.

LUCIEN

There is not a bigger shit-talking couple in Prythian than you two

One look between you two is enough.

Someone’s being annoying? You share an annoyed glance. Someone’s being rude? You share a baffled glance. Something’s juicy’s happening? You share a glance that says you will so talk about it when you get home.

“— and he has the audacity to two-time her? He’s lucky to find even one person willing to date him,” you gossip, lounging in Lucien’s lap, your voice dripping with disbelief.

“You’re not going to believe this, but this isn’t his first time. He did that to Tamlin’s cousin too,” Lucien adds, his tone filled with incredulity.

“No way,” you gasp in disbelief, shaking your head as the gossip sinks in.

“Yeah, apparently this guy fucks around in all courts and cheats on anyone willing to stomach. What a fucking loser, honestly,” Lucien nods in agreement, disdain evident in his voice. “The sick bastard gets off on it.”

“That reminds me, guess what I heard about Rhys in Rita’s yeaterday,” Lucien prompts, leaning in with a sly grin, clearly ready to share some gossip.

“Some males and females were talking about Rhys, saying he's replaced Feyre with a clone,” Lucien whispers, his tone laced with disdain. “And get this— they think her transformation from human to fae is fake and that there is no way she could possibly be the mother of Nyx.”

“A clone? They’ll say anything these days,” you exclaim, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

“That's exactly what I'm saying! They're probably just making shit up out of thin air,” Lucien replies, nodding in agreement.

“I wouldn't put it past them,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for a biscuit, happy to be sitting and gossiping with your love.

AZRIEL

Azriel loves when you sit on his lap.

It makes him feel safe and relaxed knowing you're close to him.

It's something he does every day when he comes home - having you in his lap. Sometimes you both sit quietly, other times you talk or fuck or cuddle, depending on how you’re feeling.

Azriel especially likes the fuck part.

He loves the part where you sit on his lap while he works. If you’re good, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you. If not, he still fucks you but he does it with no mercy

He makes you sit on his dick and tells you not to move and inch or you will be edged for hours, not being allowed to cum once

Fucking torture is what it is honestly

“Stop moving around so much, i can’t focus.”

“Do you blame me? You’ve buried your dick in me, of course i’m moving. Maybe do something about that.”

He raises his eyebrows at your snarky comment. If it’s something he didn’t need today it was sass.

His day was quite shitty and all he needed was his sweet mate who would kiss away his problems and take his dick perfectly

Azriel smiled slightly as he put his pen down. He would take out his frustrations on you today.

“You want to be fucked? Let’s fuck,” he says in a low tone

In the end, all his papers are scattered, all pens on the floor.

He is relaxed and all smiley while you’re on death’s door💗

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obito-in-disguise · 8 months ago

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hello tobi!! i lovee your hashira headcannons!!

could i request one (hashira men x reader) about how the hashira likes to cuddle the reader in bed? maybe to soothe her after she had a nightmare?

can you specifically focus on gyomei? (or if you don’t feel like writing for all the hashira, you can just write for gyomei). thank you so so much 🥰🥰

Hello! I'm glad you like my hashira headcannons, I have like a thousand more in my drafts lol. Sorry this is coming late, I just saw it. My notifications have been bugging these days but let's get right into it!

| How the Hashira Comfort You in Bed After a Nightmare |

Gyomei

Gyomei senses your distress before you’re even awake. He's in the middle of his usual early morning meditation, his zen state heightening his perception of his surroundings.

The moment your fear creeps in, he feels it, turning his head as he hears you tossing and turning around in the bed. Your quiet whimpers of fear shattering his heart into little pieces.

He quietly gets up, not wanting to startle you with any loud noise.

His large frame hovers over you as he gently touches your clammy cheek, his palm warm against your skin.

He looks down at you in worry. On one hand, he wants to pull you from the nightmare immediately, on the other, he’s afraid waking you too suddenly might send you into panic. He decides to rouse you carefully.

He pulls you gently into his lap, cradling you like you're the most precious thing in the world. Despite his imposing size, his touch is incredibly soft as he rubs soothing circles on your back.

"Flower...please wake up" He whispers gently, his hand continuing to stroke your cheek gently "You’re safe nothing will harm you while I’m here."

So when your eyes finally shoot open in fear, you're already tucked safely into Gyomei's embrace.

He holds you tighter, bringing you up against his chest as you gasp and pant for air.

He places a hand over your racing heart, whispering soothing words to you as he wills the erratic beating to calm down.

Soon, you relax, smiling up at him gratefully. You think about how lucky you are to have a partner like Gyomei, his embrace feels like a fortress, and the steady rhythm of his breathing becomes your anchor as you drift back to sleep against his chest.

He’ll hum softly or recite calming mantras until he’s sure you’re resting peacefully again.

Giyuu

Giyuu subconsciously holds onto you very tightly when he sleeps. So when you shift for the millionth time, he grumbles in annoyance, thinking you’re just fussing about his sleeping habits again.

But his eyes shoot open in alarm when he hears your shriek of terror. Both of you sit up abruptly, your body scrambling away from him in fear, the remnants of your nightmare still clouding your mind.

His mouth sets in a firm line as he assesses your state. Sweat beading on your skin, pupils blown wide with fear, and limbs shaking. He calmly moves over to you, holding his hand out in surrender in case you're still too shaken up.

"Hey...its ok" he shuffles closer, careful not to startle you. "It was just a dream..." he mumbles softly. He holds his arms out for you, not rushing, but inviting you to come to him.

You nearly knock him over as you scramble into his arms. He pays it no mind, quickly wrapping his arms around you tightly, placing a soft kiss to your hair as he rubs your back.

"I'm here now, it's ok"

Sanemi

Sanemi’s reaction is immediate and fierce, like he’s ready to fight whatever scared you, even if it was just a bad dream.

He watches you toss and turn, his usual scowl deepening, though it’s not aimed at you. He quickly reaches out, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you awake, his grip tightening when you jerk awake, startled and scared.

He pulls you against his chest, his hands gripping you tightly. "I’ve got you," he mutters. "Nothing’s going to get you. Not while I’m here." His warmth is almost overwhelming, but it’s exactly what you need to feel safe again.

He grabs you hips, pulling you into his lap to straddle him, one hand slips beneath your shirt, pressing against your back for skin-to-skin contact, while the other cradles the back of your head. He presses kisses from your jaw to your temple as he grumbles "I told you to stop reading those damn horror fables..."

When you eventually calm down, he’ll stay awake for hours, just holding you and glaring at the darkness as if daring it to come closer.

Obanai

Unbeknownst to you, Obanai often stays awake long after you’ve fallen asleep. On nights much like this one, he's up, his arm behind his head and the other on your back as he enjoys the secure feeling of your body laying on top of his.

His hand idly traces patterns on your back as you lie draped across him. But when he feels your skin grow clammy and notices the tension in your body, his hand pauses.

He reaches down, pulling your face up to examine your expression. He sighs when he realizes you're having a nightmare, the frown etched into your expression immediately giving it away.

He sits up properly, grasping your waist and pulling you up with him. He observes your expression for a few seconds longer before starting to shake you awake. "Hey...hey wake up" he tightens his hold when you jerk awake, dodging narrowly when one of your hands swing at him in panic.

"Bad dream?" he asks quietly, his voice low and soothing, adjusting his hold on you. When you nod, he holds you tighter. "You’re safe now. Sleep." His touch is protective yet tender, and he’ll continue to stay awake for as long as it takes to make sure you’re truly at ease.

Kyojuro

Kyojuro wakes up the moment he senses your distress, his senses attuned your every movement.

Raising his head from its position on your chest, he gazes up at your disheveled figure, your eyes wide and chest heaving.

"You are safe here with me," he says with absolute conviction. "I will always protect you." His optimism is infectious, and the way he holds you makes you feel like nothing bad could ever reach you again.

"My love," he says, his voice brimming with concern. "Did you have a bad dream?" He doesn’t wait for an answer before sitting up, pulling you into a tight hug.

He cradles your body, his large hands rub soothingly up and down your arms, the action almost magically transferring his warmth into you.

He’ll stay up, whispering words of comfort and love until you’re back asleep.

Tengen

One of his eyes peek open, its long lashes fluttering. He wasn't fully asleep to begin with but is now completely awake when he hears your whimper.

He gazes down at you, sprawled out on him and writhing in distress from a nightmare. His arm around your waist tightens as he pulls you up, muscles relaxing in relief when your eyes shoot open.

"Nightmare?" he asks softly, his usual booming voice raspy from lack of use. He places a large hand on your head, pulling you closer and pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

He frowns when you nod in confirmation. He holds your chin gently, tugging your head up so you make eye contact, staring at you intently with an odd look on his face for what feels like minutes.

He grins when you pull a face and laugh softly calling him a weirdo, relieved to have put a smile on your face again.

His lips ghost over your forehead once more before he pulls you back down with him. "Sleep pretty girl, there’ll be no more nightmares tonight. I promise."

He stays awake fully awake for the night, watching over you. His comforting presence enough to chase the nightmares away like he promised.

Hope you liked it! I'm glad you requested for Gyomei specifically, he's one of my favourite characters to write.

Feel free to check out my other Demon Slayer fics and more stories!

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pineconepie · 20 days ago

Text

CHARACTERS: Vincent, gender neutral reader/you, minor characters

WARNINGS/TAGS: Parental yandere, mentions of murder, light infantilization, bratty+shy reader

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Commission! <3 I had fun writing this!!

Vincent adjusts his cufflinks, then tugs at his collar absent-mindedly, smoothing out the wrinkles and creases in his shirt and pants. He stands alone in front of a large mirror hanging on the wall opposite of him.

"Why do I have to come, too?" you grumble behind him.

"Because," Vincent explains simply without turning back towards you. He continues fixing his appearance for several moments longer before finally facing you. "I don't want to leave you by yourself here. That's the whole point of why I'll be interviewing nannies today, baby. I also want to see if you like them when I make a decision."

You hesitate. "Why can't Quinn or one of the others watch me?"

He snorts. "I think I'd only trust one of them in a life or death situation. Except Trent, but he's out of the country right now for business." Vincent shrugs nonchalantly, pulling on a coat. "Now come along, kiddo. You don't even have to talk to any of them until I pick the top ones I like. You can just draw in my office and let me do all the talking."

"This'll take forever..."

"Oh, please. Why would you say that?" He ruffles your hair.

"Because you love talking," you explain. "Its literally what you're best known for. Besides killing people."

"Excuse you, I am also known for my stunning good looks and impeccable fashion sense," he teases.

"Thank you for reminding me that you're also known for your huge ego, can't believe I almost forgot that one," you tease back.

He pretends to be wounded, putting a dramatic hand to his heart. "Ow, ow. My fragile feelings! I've been mortally injured!" He laughs when you roll your eyes at him. "Alright, alright. Let's head down now, okay? Make sure you got everything, we're gonna be there for at least two hours."

You know when he says that, that usually means a whole day.

In the limousine, you play a game on Vincent's phone, head on his shoulder. As soon as you get to Cryo, you immediately go to his office and put on headphones, sitting on the floor near his desk, scribbling down doodles with markers he bought you, half listening to what's going on.

"Hello, Mr. Brewer," the first applicant says politely. He sets down a folder with his information inside. He's dressed almost as richly as Vincent is.

Vincent glances it over briefly before asking some questions about qualifications and past employment.

You're hardly paying attention, but you can read Vincent's facial expressions well enough.

Everyone in the past has said Vincent has a wonderful poker face, and granted, he does; but those who know him well can see through him. He does microexpressions that most people miss, and he'll often subconsciously fiddle with his watch as a habit whenever he's uninterested.

Not only that, but his forced smile looks much different from his genuine one. Then again, you doubt no one could tell, because he only genuinely smiles around you.

When the man is dismissed, you look at him. "Why didn't you like him?"

Vincent chuckles. "I hope it wasn't obvious. He just seemed a bit too uptight. Also, no experience in combat, so I wouldn't consider him anyway."

"What does combat training have to do with babysitting me?"

"You never know," he replies simply. "Its a safety precaution."

"I can defend myself..."

"Mhm." Vincent doesn't respond more than that, but you can tell he very clearly doesn't believe you, calling in the next person.

The next person is much less uptight than the other guy, but to the opposite degree.

"Hey, Boss," they say, smirking lazily. They show their resume, tossing it carelessly onto his desk. "Pretty cool office."

"Yes, it is," Vincent agrees, sounding amused. He doesn't say much for a moment, taking time to skim through the rest. Even though you can tell he's impressed, he doesn't really like them for their personality. "Quite experienced in combat, I see. Hired gun, mercenary work... sounds like it suits you. I'll call you back."

They seem confident with this, taking their resume without even asking any more questions.

"You won't call them back," you state as soon as they leave.

"Nope," Vincent says cheerfully.

"You didn't like the other guy because he was too uptight."

"And the second was too laid-back. Doesn't know when to be serious and when not to. I want some professionalism, but still openly kind and caring, you know what I mean?"

"So like, the opposite of you?"

Vincent throws a crumpled up paper at you. "I'll have you know, I am the kindest and most caring person on the planet, even when my beloved baby is being a brat."

"You literally murder people every other week." You throw the paper ball back at him, which he catches smoothly.

"Only for business, so therefore I think it's at least fifty percent ethical." He drops the balled up paper into his recycling bin and calls the third person in.

For the rest of it, you manage to focus on your coloring page and music rather than whatever is happening. Its pretty boring watching the same old process over and over again.

He has unrealistically high standards, so you're wondering if he'll even find one person.

Luckily, by the end of it, he gets your attention.

"Out of the forty-three candidates, one of them seem to match my standards," Vincent announces to you once the room is emptied out, save for the two of you. He hands you a picture and the information, though it doesn't really matter, because he takes it from you to read it. "Elise Guzman, thirty-nine years old, ex-spy who used to work for Cryo but retired because she wanted a change of pace."

You hum in thought. "So you know her?"

He nods. "She's a good friend of mine. One of the few people I'd trust to watch over you."

It makes you feel a little better knowing its someone Vincent actually know. "Can I meet her before you make a decision?"

"Oh, absolutely," he assures. "She was in here just a sec ago, but you were busy with your drawing, so I'll call her back now."

And true to his word, after he sends a text on his phone, there's a knock on the door.

"Come in," Vincent calls.

The door opens to reveal a woman who fits the description. She comes over and kneels in front of you. Her hair is black and curly, worn in a messy ponytail. She's fairly short, but you can see she has quite a bit of muscle. She's dressed similarly to Vincent's style, but more relaxed.

Her smile seems genuine.

You glance up at Vincent nervously, clinging to his sleeve.

"Hello, baby, I'm Elise," she says softly, her voice gentle.

"I'm (Y/n)," you reply.

"Awww, it's so nice to meet you!" She tilts her head slightly. "Your dad told me all about you earlier." Elise sticks out a hand to offer you a handshake. When you shake her hand, her grip is firm but friendly. Her nails are a pretty purple. She smells like lavender. "Are you shy?"

Vincent nods for you. "When you get to know them, though, they open right up." He kisses your forehead.

She introduces herself further, and you listen politely. You learn she likes dancing, arts and crafts, and is almost just as extroverted as Vincent. She enjoys hiking and outdoorsy activities, as well.

Most importantly, though, she has plenty of experience in combat, as a spy, she is trained to use various weapons such as swords and knives as well as firearms, as well as unarmed combat like martial arts and boxing.

Once she leaves, Vincent looks at you, waiting for your input.

"I liked her a lot," you admit quietly. "If we can meet more often and get to know each other..."

"Yeah?" he asks, eager. "And you aren't just saying that to make me happy?" You nod. "Okay, okay. We'll definitely do that." He glances at his watch. "Well, it's well past dinner now. Let's go eat out somewhere, Dad's too tired to cook tonight." He helps put away all your drawing supplies, stopping when he sees a certain one. "Aww, honey, is this me?" he croons.

You snatch the drawing of you and him away. "No!" you lie, embarrassed.

He ignores that, snatching it back from you. "Look at us holding hands together, ohh, that's so adorable, I love it!" he coos. "You drew us! Can I keep it?"

"Fiiiine," you grumble. "But it's not good..."

"How dare you? It's perfect!" Vincent folds it neatly and puts it in his pocket. "I'll put it on the fridge when we get home."

You grumble when he extends his hand for you, but take it nonetheless.

#parental yandere #vincent oc #platonic yandere #yandere #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #yandad #commission

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plutoswritingplanet · 1 year ago

Text

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough.

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her.

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love.

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill.

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them.

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end.

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son.

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die.

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed.

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers.

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded.

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow.

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour.

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to.

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice.

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him.

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament.

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods.

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room.

- Shall we, my Lady?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat.

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features.

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade.

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed.

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it.

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug.

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade.

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses.

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you.

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking.

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies.

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man.

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike.

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way.

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps.

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting.

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls.

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head.

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo.

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts.

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me.

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him.

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle.

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art.

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards.

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh.

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #they try to silence me again on tumblr dot com but i won't let them

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