deadlockfae - Tumblr blog

deadlockfae · 5 months ago

Note

had a thought about gojo or geto catching reader watching porn and teasing her/doing the things in the video while they watch it together🤭 then they would actually get so horny they start getting rougher than the video lol :p

thank you for the ask ml

satosugu x fem reader<3

contains: college au, roomates!satosugu, watching porn, threesome, so much dirty talk, praise, degradation, oral (r!receiving), teasing, slightly rough, hand jobs (geto & gojo jerk each other off), making out, satosugu are gay for each other lowk, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, spitting, slapping, squirting, manhandling :3

note: this ran longer than expected.. might do a pt.2 if the demand is there :p

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“Ah! ah! ah! mmph!” The blonde girls moans echo in your headphones while you lay on your tummy on your bed, legs crossed behind you while you stare at the laptop, watching the ditsy girl get double penetrated into the sheets by 2 men twice her size.

One of your friends was raving about this video, frantically sending you the link and telling you it was the hottest she’s ever seen; so of course you had to check it out.

“Fuck- give it to me daddy yesyesyes-“ she whined when their huge cocks fucked straight into her sweet spot, making her squirt onto the other man’s abdomen while they coo and praise her.

The hype your friend put on this video was well deserved, as you had started to subtly rub your thighs together a while ago, feeling yourself get wetter as the video progressed.

knock knock

You jolt on the bed at the sudden noise, opting to turn the video down to hear what whoever is at the door had to say, rather than pausing it.

The vulgar moans and slapping sounds quieted in your ears as your door cracked open and revealed a head pop through the door, decorated with pretty white hair.

“Heyyyy” the man dragged, “Do you need something? Super busy right now Satoru.” you dismissed, popping open a new tab and typing randomly on the keyboard to keep up your facad.

“You call playing smash or pass with your friends on facetime busy?” Gojo teased, crossing his arms and leaning his frame against the door, smirking at you.

“For your information, i’m studying for a final on friday.. asshole.. but if i was playing smash or pass I would still be too busy to talk to you.” you retorted, rolling your eyes, still not looking up from your laptop as you continued typing useless sentences into the search bar repeatedly.

“Suguru not home? You bored?” You quizzed. Gojo had an awful habit of bothering you anytime your other roommate Geto was out of the house—which was quite frequently, to your demise, as that meant you were stuck with Gojo tearing up all your shit and intruding in your (our as he called it) personal space.

"Yeahhh, but I jus sent him a text, hes on his way home." Gojo said, dropping his hands to his sides and strolling over to your bed, leaving the door open behind him. You slid the laptop twords your body, pushing your torso up off the mattress and dragging yourself to sit against the headboard of your bed as he got closer.

"Why you runnin away? Got somethin' embarrassing on there?" The white haired man giggled, reaching your bed and sprawling himself tummy first against your sheets, resting his head on your calf while he stroked your legs with his large hands.

It was not unusual in the slightest for gojo to be touchy with you, but with your current state of arousal you really didnt want him caressing up and down your legs right now.

"Shiiiiit ahh!" the girls high pitch voice whined in your ear when she came again, "Yesss, good fucking girl, being so good for us fuuuuck." The larger of the two men cooed to her. You couldnt see what was going on since you had opened a new tab, but you could hear everything loud and clear.

"It's just a personal essay, don't need you snooping." You responded, trying not to rub your thighs together as your arousal spiked from the lewd noises going on in the background.

"Mhmmm" Gojo responded, nuzzling his soft hair into your thigh as he continued rubbing patterns into your skin and drawing his name over and over again on your calf lightly. "Ah! Ah! Ah! Harder!" The noises continued, as did your fake typing, as silence fell between the two of you.

"Sooo." Gojo started after about a minute or two of silence, He used his pointer finger to push your laptop screen down, so his cerulean eyes could make contact with your own, "How long is it gonna take you to realize that your headphones arent plugged into your laptop?" He smirked, tilting his head into your calf and running his hand further up your thigh.

"Wha-" Looking down into the port where your cheap shitty headphones were supposed to be snuggly pressed into the headphone jack, and instead seeing the cable dangling off the side of the laptop.

"Oh for fuck sake," You slammed the laptop shut, feeling your face start to heat up, Gojo was laughing a little too obviously now, resulting in you smacking him against the head while you curled your legs in towards yourself.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me!?" You exclaimed, trying to hide your embarrassment. "Heh, I thought it was cute I guess, your pretty quick with the lies tho, makes me wonder what else you've lied to me about." Gojo ponders, making you scoff and drop your head into your hands.

"Awww don't be embarrassed, everyone watches porn." He giggles, sitting up and staring down at your embarrassed form, curled in on itself.

"Youre so twisted satoru." Your muffled voice resonated into his ears. You hear him laugh again before you feel the sheets dip next to you. Lifting your head you see Gojo has made himself comfortable next to you, wrapping a big arm around your shoulders as he rubs your arm comfortingly—an attempt at that at least.

"If you were in my shoes you would get it," He giggled before his pitch changed drastically to a more chipper one, "Now!" he starts "Lets take a look at what my cute little roomie was gettin' off tooo~" He drags, long fingers reaching for the device to crack it open and leave you exposed and embarrassed once more.

"Wait no-" You attempt to reach out and stop him but his grip on your forearm stops you in your tracks, he gripped your arm tightly as he continued his pursuit, "Toru, seriously-" You're cut off again by him shushing you as he successfully opens up your laptop. "Its okay~ Me and Suguru watch porn together all the time.~" He reasons.

"Ohhhh~" He huffs out a laugh when the sound of the video played once more, he tapped over to the correct tab as the video popped into veiw, full screen. It showed the pretty blonde girl folded in a full nelson, one man behind her holding her up, fucking her asshole and marking up her neck with his lips while the other man stood in front of her, sloppily kissing her and moaning into her mouth while he fucked her pussy.

Your face heated up when the audio reached your ears, cunt throbbing immediately at the show in front of you. “You into this shit?" He laughs, shaking your shoulder and turning his head to face you.

Dont make eye contact dont make eye contact dont-

His eyes felt like they were penetrating through your body. You internally sighed when he averted his gaze back to the screen, not feeling much relief before he spoke again, "You ever done this?" He asked, whistling at the screen when the girl squirted all over the man in front of her.

"What? n-no, my friend just recommended this video." You responded, averting your eyes from the screen when the man started dirty talking the girl, making your cunt throb as you subltly pressed your thighs together.

What the hell were you doing? Watching porn with Satoru? Your roommate of 3 years, best friend of 8, this was definitely wrong, so why were you even more aroused with his presence now?

"You wanna?" He asked, catching you off gaurd, and making you snap your neck up to look up at him, relizing that he was still looking at you. "Huh?" You asked, confused if he was asking what you thought he was asking.

"You wanna get fucked like that?" He repeated, making your mouth run dry. This was definitely not a conversation you should be having with him. You were by no means a shy person, but he was making you feel so small right now, and you wish you were, maybe then you could hide from this conversation.

"I uh- I dont kno-" your voice was interupted by his deeper one, "I think you do know." He spoke, smiling downa at you, making your eyes dart around the room, looking for any form of life to rescue you right now.

"Ughhhh! Why are we talking about this, I really dont know I-" you were cut off again, accompanied by his thumb rubbing circles onto your shoulder, "You a virgin?" He asked, once again making your jaw drop, his question completely catching you off gaurd.

"N-no Im not a virgin Satoru." You answered, looking back at his intimidating eyes, "Then why are you acting like such a prude, huh?" He teased, his annoying smirk creeping onto his face.

He did not just call me a prude.

"Just because I'm not confessing my sexual fantasies to you doesn't mean I'm a prude I just- I- Ugh." You give up, biting your lip and untensing your shoulders. Silence fell over the two of you for a beat, save for the loud moaning and squelching in the background. Just how long was this video?

"I could see it." He said, tilting his head, staring at you like he was analyzing you. "See what?" You asked, scrunching your eyebrows together, the way he was talking was giving you whiplash.

"You getting fucked like that." He deadpanned. "I bet such an uptight little thing like you would absolutely loooove to get ur shit rocked like that~" He giggled. You couldn't even defend yourself, in shock while his big stupid mouth kept moving, "Squirting all over two big strong guys while they fucked you like you deserve."

Gojo's words were shameless. The air surrounding the both of you was so thick as he kept speaking, eyes locked with yours the whole time, "Bet you'd love getting called a good little girl while two cocks drilled in and out of you." You swallowed roughly, breath coming quicker as it felt like his words were stealing the air from your lungs.

"Getting your clit sucked while the other guy fucked your tiny pussy." He continued, painting the picture vividly for you. "But thats not really ur thing right?" Gojo's eyebrows raised, smiling at you teasingly while you pouted, veins coursing with your arousal.

The deep voices of the men and the squealing of the blonde pornstar resonated in the backrough while a silence fell over the two of you, the both of you challenging staring into each others eyes, eyes occasionally falling to the others lips. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice through with a knife.

"Tell me you don't want it." He said suddenly, having had enough of the tension. Gojo bit his lip and tilted his head. There was a pause, he gripped the laptop in his hand, raising it off your lap and blindly placing it on the table behind him, still keeping eye contact with you as you both moved hesitantly, inching closer to each other. "I cant." You heard your own voice in your ears before you felt his lips crash against yours.

"Fuckin' knew it" He kissed you intensely, wasting no time in sliding his body on top of yours and pressing his knee between your legs, right against your cunt, " Dirty girl" He mumbled, smiling against your lips before he licked against them, silently asking for permission.

You open your mouth to let him in, feeling him lick into your mouth, both of you groaned as the kiss got heavier, he started pressing his knee against you rhythmically, "Take what yours," He pulled back and whispered against your lips, one of his large hand coming down to your waist as he helped you hump your clothed cunt along his knee.

Your hands ran all over the body of the other. Yours gripping onto his hair and down the nape of his neck, pushing him against you harder to deepen the kiss. His hands gripping your waist, using his big thumb to draw shapes into your skin as he slipped his warm hand under your shirt.

The video was still playing in the background of you and gojo's heated makeout session. The both of you were panting into the other's mouth, arousal increased by the sounds of the intimate act bouncing off the walls.

"You couldn't wait fifteen minutes for me asshole?" A deeper voice spoke into the room, making your push gojo off you slightly, breaking the kiss. "Not my fault you took so long to get here." Gojo responded, continuing his ministrations on your body by dropping his lips to your neck and sucking.

"W-what are you guys t-talking about" You suttered out, slightly realxing back into the bed at the realization that it was just your other roomate, Geto, who entered.

"Mmm." Satoru hummed against your skin before answering between kisses. "Heard your porn." kiss, "Told sugu" kiss, "Master plan was formed" kiss.

"Y-you guys planned this?" You asked, more desperation than you would've liked seeping into your voice. "Course," Gojo responded like it was obvious, gripping your jaw and tipping your neck up for better access. "We've been wanting to fuck you for so long." Geto smiled down at the two of you.

"Even" kiss "Jerked each other off while talkin' about all the things we wanted to do to you~" Gojo casually dropped, returning back to his place on your neck. Your reaction made Geto laugh in the doorway, finally starting to make his way to the bed, shaking his head at Gojo's revealing secret.

You barely had time to process all of the new information before you felt the bed dip under Geto's body weight, feeling his big hand reach between the two of you and caress your tummy under your shirt, "So fucking soft," He mumbled to himself, making you whine at the attention.

"You okay with this baby?" Geto checked, making Gojo pull back from your neck and stare at your face, waiting for your response. You thought your answer was pretty clear, but it made you happy that he asked you verbally.

"Uh y-yeah Im oka- mmph!" Before you could finish your response, Geto's lips were on your own, kissing you softer than satoru. His lips were rough but the kiss was more passionate and less messy, both ways the men kissed reflected their personalities perfectly.

"Fuck" Gojo smiled, biting his lip while he hovered above your body, feeling your legs squeeze around his knee while he watched his two roommates makeout under him, "So fucking hot." Gojo's large hand slid down to grope himself over his pants before he slid to your left a bit, allowing geto more room to get on top of you as well.

Geto maneuvered his body slightly over yours as well, one arm holding him over you while his other held your jaw in his hand tightly. While Suguru kept you busy up top, Gojo started peppering kisses down your body, sliding your shirt up to rest under your breasts, leaving little kisses in his wake.

When the initial shock of finally getting to kiss you after so long started to fuzz out of geto's head, he was finally able to register the speaker of your laptop blasting the porn video you were watching at near full volume now. He must've been insanely enamored with you to not acknowledge her loud protests of "'S too much!" Followed by her incoherent sobs.

He pulled back from kissing you, a smirk on his face while he reached over to the desk and turned the laptop towards the three of you, staring at the screen, "Wow, this is some kinky shit." He laughed, absentmindely dropping his hand to your next and resting it there.

He watched the girl get fucked for a coupled seconds; the fat tears streaming down her face and the cum flooding out from her overstimulated pussy; while gojo kept running his hands over your body, sucking and biting the skin of your tummy and hips, making you whine.

"Think we can make her sound like that?" Suguru asked Satoru. The white haired man hummed into your skin, before opening his eyes and pulling back, "maybe if you actually gave her some attention instead of watching some other girl get fucked yeah~" He teased.

Geto lightly smacked his hand against the albino's shoulder, "You already got to watch this with her before I got here, don't act better than me Satoru," Contrary to his words, Geto looked away from the video, bringing his attention back to you.

Suguru grabbed your knee closest to him and spread it off of gojos thigh, making room for his knee to join gojos between your legs. The two men silently worshiped your body, leaving hickeys and bite marks wherever their lips traveled, nails decorating your skin with dark red marks from how they gripped you.

“My turn pretty, give me some love yeah?” Gojo spoke, a teasing tone in his voice as he rose from your body to your face once more, sloppily slotting your lips together as he hummed his approval into your mouth.

Geto glanced over to the laptop and saw they people were not positioned with the girl in the middle, one man between her legs eating her cunt, and the other sitting behind her, and talking her through it. Geto could think of no better idea then the one in front of him, burning itself into his corneas.

“Satoru,” The dark haired man spoke, resulting in Gojo humming an affirmation that he heard him, against your lips. “Get behind her.” He instructed.

“Ohhh~ movin a little quick, don’t mind if I do~” Gojo smirked, biting his lip as he went to maneuver your body into the doggy style position, misunderstanding getos words.

You let yourself be manipulated by gojo, trusting their judgement, but your movements were stopped when Geto spoke shaking his head, “No- Idiot, like that.” Geto sighed, tilting his head twords the laptop at the porno playing for the reference.

Gojo tsked, “Why cant I be the one eating her cunt?” He complained, nevertheless complying as he situated himself behind you, scooping you up from your underarms and sliding you against his back.

You sat there pretty, bubbles practically floating out of your head as you laid against his hard chest completely out of it. Your mind was in absolute bliss having so much attention on you from these handsome men, not even registering their argument while you watched Geto situate your legs over his shoulders, laying down on his stomach.

“You got to her first, don’t be greedy, you’ll taste her soon enough.” Geto responded.

He slotted his mouth against your clothed cunt, pressing his tongue against your thin shorts, he swore he could taste you from how soaked you were through your panties.

“How are you doin cutie? This alright for you?” Gojo asks against your ear, nibbling on your earlobe while he waited for your response.

Your stomach jolted and jerked feeling Geto’s nose press against your clit through your pants, “Good, feels ‘s good” you rush out, breath starting to pick up when Geto mach eats you out through your shorts.

The dark haired man started shaking his head back and forth, going between looking up at you and squeezing his eyes shut, pressing his tongue harshly against where your little hole should be behind the cloth that obstructs him.

Gojos warm hands come up to massage your tits, the both of you watching intently at the show geto is putting on.

“Fuck, just eat her out man, cmon~” Gojo whined, arguably feeling more impatient than you to see your pussy get licked.

You nodded along with the white haired man, rolling your hips up into getos handsome face before he pulled back, raising his large body so he was sitting against his heels, before looking between the two of you.

“Why are you so impatient Satoru? It’s not your pussy i’m eating” He lets out a short laugh, dropping his gaze to the wet patch he left on your cunt before he reached his hand out to rub you over your clothed mound, biting his lip.

Geto was truly trying to take his time with you but the now faint taste he had of you on his tongue, the sight of your smaller figure engulfed by gojos larger one, the smell of you still lingering in his nose from being so close to your cunt, it was almost too much. He swore if he didn’t make this quick; making you cum; he might lose his mind.

Geto’s cock was so hard in his pants, threatening to rip a hole through his boxers any time he glanced in your direction, and he was betting everything that Satoru was feeling the same.

Gojo felt his cock twitch in his pants watching Geto rub circles over your clit through your pants, and he knew you could feel his need throbbing against your lower back. “Can you fucking blame me? Every time you touch her she has the cutest reaction, makes me so fucking hardd.” Gojo drawled, his mouth watering when Geto’s ring and index finger pressed against your clothed hole.

“P-please” you gasped, no longer being able to take the teasing. “Please?” Geto repeated, needing you to be more specific. “Please touch me.. directly.” you whimpered out, eyes rolling back when Geto pressed a little too hard, sending a strong jolt of stimulation down your spine.

How you managed to work them up to this extent with just your whines and meek words was astonishing to the both of them. “Good girl, tellin me just what she needs.” he smiles down at you. Reaching his free hand down and sliding them up to your hips, teasing his fingertips under the hem of your pants before slowly sliding them down.

“Cmere” Gojo whispered, he abandoned one of his hands massaging your tits to grip your neck, tilting your head to the side to kiss him more easily and allowing the man to slip his tongue into your mouth.

“Oh fuck.” Geto breathed, jaw dropping at the sight of your cunt and just how wet you were when he started to slide of your panties. Mouth filling with saliva when he watched strings of your arousal connect from your pussy lips to your drenched panties. “So fucking wet holy shit.”

Gojo moaned into your mouth, squeezing your next before pulling back from the kiss, “Lemme get a look,” he spoke breathlessly. Gojo sucked in a breath through his teeth when geto collected some of the wetness from your cunt on his fingers and held it up for gojo to see.

Gojo couldn’t help himself, he abandoned his hold on your next and opted to gray getos wrist, bringing it to his lips. Geto resisted when his fingers were inches from gojos lips. “Who’s said you get to taste her first?” He asked, making gojo groan as he pulled harder against his friends hand.

“Cmonnn, you already got to taste her through her pants let me have this, pleeeeease~” he begged, pouting his lip out twords the dark haired man.

Suguru rolled his eyes, a small smirk gracing his featured before he relaxed his hand, letting gojo pull his wrist fully twords his mouth.

You watched with bated breathe as the interaction occurred between the men. Whining and feeling yourself throb when you watched gojo suck the other man’s large fingers into his mouth, watching his pretty eyes roll back in his head and moan at the taste of you on his tongue.

Gojo let out hums around the fingers, squeezing his eyes shut when they were pressed a little too deep down his throat.

Geto sucked his lip into his mouth, growing more and more impatient as the while haired man really took his time licking and sucking around his fingers, savoring the taste of you.

“Okay that’s enough of that, need to taste her myself” Geto announced, pulling his fingers from gojo’s mouth with a pop— resulting in the while haired man letting out a whine— Geto got back into place between your legs, laying down on his stomach and placing your bare legs over his shoulders.

His dark eyes looked up at you through his pretty lashes, bringing his head to your thigh as he bit down hard on the fat of your thigh, smiling when you winced at the feeling, trying to squeeze your legs together to no avail thanks to his hands.

“You ready to feel Suguru lick ur pretty little cunt?” gojo asked, his big hands finding home on your knees and spreading you open for the man between your thighs, “This is just like your porno.” He continued, giggling.

Abandoning one of his hands on your knee for a second to pull the laptop onto the bed and off to the left— not in the way, just so you could see the reference— the blonde pornstar was in the same predicament you were about to be in whenever geto decided to stop teasing you.

“Wanna see you squirt like her all over his face too, can you do that baby? You a squirter?” Gojo asked teasingly.

It was getting harder and harder to listen to the words they spoke, especially with Geto now kissing right around your pussy, occasionally moving his head down to suck hickeys into your inner thighs, it was making you dizzy.

“Dunno, I-i’ve never don’t it be-before.” you managed to get out. This made both of the men him and visibly perk up.

“Ohhohooo” Gojo laughed, “You will today,” He said assuredly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Gojo used one of his large hands to grip your jaw and direct your gaze twords suguru between your legs, “Keep your eyes on him baby, watch him eat your pussy.” Satoru instructed, bringing hi other hand under your shirt to massage your breast directly.

“So pretty,” Geto mumbled, keeping eye contact with you as he finally let his tongue poke out between his lips, letting it graze your neglected clit.

Your body jerked at the stimulation, legs trying and failing to snap shut thanks to sugurus strong hold. “Uh-uh keep them open for me pretty,” he tsked, flattening his tongue and pressing it against your folds.

The dark haired man drew figure eights with his tongue against your pussy, starting off slow. “ahhhh,” He let out, moaning against your cunt at the sweet taste.

Getos cock really might burst through his pants at this point. He tried grinding his bulge into the bed in slow but strong thrusts, matching the pace of his tongue against you to try and ease the ache he was feeling, but it was proving futile, he needed to make you cum— and fast— so he could feel your walls around his cock sooner.

“Fuuuuck, looks like that feel so good huh baby?” Gojo wined, pinching your nipple between his lithe fingers while he kept his sight on the man’s tongue connecting to your wetness, watching intently while the appendage rubbed back, and forth, against your clit.

“Yesyes, ‘s good fuck!” you wined when the dark haired man sped up his ministrations. “Awww, you guys sounds so cute together.” Gojo cooed in your ear, referring to the girl in porno and yourself.

You slightly averted your vision to the side, watching the other three in the video get up to the same antics the three of you were currently partaking in.

Their moans were turning you on, something about watching one of your fantasies unfold while it was happening to you at the same time was driving you crazy.

You already felt like cumming and geto had barely just touched his tongue to your clit.

He sucked the little bud into his mouth, humming around it, his tongue darting out every so often to give you some extra stimulation as he watched your eyes flit back and forth between the movie and his eyes.

“Fuck this is turning me on, feel like my dick is gonna explode,” Gojo confessed, biting his lip and bucking his hips into your lower back as he watched everything unfold, fingers still relentless on your nipple.

You were squirming around so much, wiggling back against gojo and unbeknownst to you— rubbing perfectly against his dick.

“Mmmm f-uck, cmere roomie,” Gojo yanked your jaw to the side so he had access to your lips, sticking his tongue in your mouth and kissing you like he was trying to steal the air from your lungs.

The three of you were getting so worked up. Geto’s ministrations we’re getting harder— his sucks against your clit and pressure of his tongue increasing, occasionally dipping his tongue into your hole to tongue fuck you as deep as he could manage, while simultaneously humping his clothed cock hard against the sheets.

Your hand came up to grip gojo by the wrist, holding his hand that was gripping your chin for stability as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your orgasm. “Gonna cum? Huh?” Gojo asked, his question rushed in between needy kisses.

“Gonna cum all over his face? Then ya’ gonna let us fuck you right?” He continued, his own voice rising in pitch when your squirming against his cock stimulated him just right.

Geto groned, keeping his attention on the two of you kissing while he shook his head back and forth against your wetness. The dark haired man hands were gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he used your body to keep himself grounded, fighting the urge to just pull out his cock and fuck you right this second.

“Oh fuck Geto I- I think i’m close” you moaned, your free hand coming down to grip his hair hard. His toes curled at the sensation, a tingle shooting down his spine at your rough grip in his hair.

“Shittt yesyesyes, ride his face baby, take what’s yours” Gojo encouraged, his usually pale face was dusted pink as he pulled away from the kiss, looking down at your pussy and how rough geto was eating you out— your gaze followed.

“Fuck- fuck- feels- haaaah, feels w-weird,” you wined, trying to squirm away from the stimulation as you felt something unfamiliar coil in your tummy. “nggggh- waaa-it wait-“ You insisted, trying to push Geto’s head off of you.

“Nooo it’s okay, ‘s not weird, let it out baby you’ll feel soooo fucking good I promise.” Gojo drunkenly smiled at you, trying not to bust in his pants watching the tears start to form in your eyes.

You squeezed your eyes shut, tipping your head back against his strong shoulder when it got too much, your legs shaking uncontrollably before you felt the coil snap.

“Mhm mhm mhmmm” you could barely register geto encouraging you through your orgasm as you started to squirt into his mouth. His greedy tongue lapped up your wetness at an inhuman speed, groaning at the taste and swallowing up every last drop.

“Holy fuck haha” Gojo laughed, his jaw dropping even lower as he watched the orgasm wrack your body, “Fuck I almost came,” he said, biting his lip as he watched your face contort, dropping his hand on your face down to your other breast and gripping it hard.

Gojo looked over to the video when you started coming down from your orgasm and realized that you and the pornstar had came at the same time, “So fucking cute, you guys came together, look-” He grabbed your limp face once more, directing it to the screen as you tried to take in her state.

Juices all over her legs, chest heaving up and down— much like your own— the man under her looked pussy drunk, heaving as heavily as the girl, the man behind her cooing at her and praising her through the aftershocks of her orgasm— they resembled the three of you greatly.

“Good fucking girl, knew you were a squirter,” he giggled. Geto looked a little more serious though, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before pressing one last kiss to your thigh, “I cant take it anymore,” he heaved out, dark eyes swarming with lust as he flipped your body over so you were in the doggystyle position.

“Woah woah slow down~” Gojo giggled, noticing how out of it you were, looking like you could pass out at any second from how hard you just came.

“Why don’t we give her a second huh? Pretty sure she almost died from coming that hard.” he laughed. Geto stayed silent, his eyes focusing on gojo while he spoke, the only sign that he was actually listening to the white haired fool being how geto’s grip on your waist loosed significantly as he gained back some of his rational.

“Come over here, I’ll help you out while she catches her breath” Gojo said, waving his bestfriend over. Geto sighed before he released you completely. Your tired body collapsed into Gojo’s thigh, his big hand came down to rub your head soothingly as he maintained eye contact with suguru.

When Geto finally made it to Gojo’s side of the bed, he placed his strong hand on the albinos upper thigh, leaning his weight on it before he let the white haired man lean in and kiss him.

You were absolutely stunned, you felt like the air had just been shot back into your lungs when their lips connected. You watched Gojo sloppily makeout with Geto the same way he did to you, it looked so natural, there was no way that hadn’t done this before.

You know Gojo had confessed that they jerked each other off but kissing felt too intimate for some reason.

You watched with bated breath as Gojo’s hand cupped Geto over his pants, you watched the mound throb against his hand while he rubbed it in his palm, as quick as his touch came he slipped his fingers under the band of geto’s sweats and boxers, and wrapped his hand around his girth.

Geto pulled away from the kiss, hissing through his teeth while he stared at his own crotch, watching gojo jerk him off.

“You enjoying the show?” Gojo smirked down at you. Your face flushed a deeper shade of crimson when you realized you had been caught. “Why don’t you come up here, huh?” He instructed.

Both men watched your shaky arms push your torso up, using the little strength you had in your body to crawl up to Geto and sit next to him, your knee bumping his outer thigh.

Geto stared at your parted lips before bringing his gaze back to your glassy eyes and smiling, “Help me out here, no way I’m gonna c-cum with Gojo’s lazy technique.” He teased, reaching his big hand to grab onto the back of your head and push your lips to his.

“Fuuuck, don’t leave me hanging” Gojo said, ignoring the jab because he knew Geto was all talk. The dark haired man was throbbing and leaking all over his fingers, but he uncharacteristic chose to not out his friend— if he did, Geto probably wouldn’t have reached his thick fingers into his pants and started jerking him off as well.

The three of you panted and gasped into the air, Getos moans were muffled by the kiss, and Gojo watched the two of you make out while he bucked his hips into Geto’s hand for more friction.

“Shiiiit, squeeze harder Suguru,” Gojo instructed, demonstrating his needs on geto’s cock, pumping him faster and applying more pressure to his sensitive tip when he stroked down his cock.

“Fuck” Geto pulled away, “Your lips are so fucking soft, shit-“ He groaned, his grip in your hair tightened when gojo sped up his ministrations on his cock.

Suguru matched his pace with gojo, the two of them moaning and panting in tandem as they approached their highs, “Shit- Fuck-“ Geto moaned against your lips, pressing his forhead into yours and digging his nails into Gojo thigh when the coil snapped.

“Yeaaahhh hahaha” Gojo groaned, watching his bestfriend cum first, hot ropes of his come easing the strokes over geto’s dick the more he released.

“Shit- Im coming too— don’t stop,” Gojo choked, the smirk he wore just seconds ago washing off his face as he gripped geto’s wrist, fucking his hips up into geto’s right tight fist, releasing his cum.

You watched out of the corner of your eye in awe as tremors wracked his body, slurs of ‘yesyesyes’ and curses slipping from the albinos lips as he fucked himself through his high using his bestfriends hand.

They both shuddered in the aftershocks of their orgasm, geto pressing his lips to yours once more when he finally caught his breath.

“What the hell do you guys get up to when I’m out of the house?” you asked in disbelief at how nonchalant they were about jerking each other off and cumming all over the other’s hand.

Gojo wiped his cum covered hand off on your sheets making you let out a little growl of annoyance, before he smiled, starting to strip himself of his now soiled pants and boxers, “Oh you know, normal guy stuff,” he giggled, crawling twords you, his heavy and still erected cock dangling between his legs.

You gulped at the sheer size of him, he was at least twice the size as the men’s cocks in the porno. You couldn’t really see anything more than their tips when they were jerking each other off in their pants, only being able to see the girth from the sliver of skin you saw.

Geto removed his hand from your thigh and copied gojo in ridding himself of his clothes, “We’ve only done that a couple times, not like one of us is taking it up the ass when you go to the store or anything.” Geto adds, which makes gojo laugh.

“Bet you would like that though~” Gojo teases, wiggling his eyebrows, which makes geto shudder.

Once geto had removed the last piece of his clothing—being his shirt— he rubbed his hand back over your thigh, gojo sitting next to him on his heels, staring at you intimidatingly.

“So, you ready for the good stuff now?” Geto asked, sliding his hand up your body till he reached your face, caressing the side of your cheek. “Saw in your little movie they were giving her some double penetration action, you think you can take it?” Geto asked smugly, licking his lips.

“I’ve uh, never done anal before so..” you paused, taking a second to take in the girth of getos cock, wondering how his cock; let alone both of them; would fit inside you, “go easy on me.” you finished, looking back and forth between the men.

“No promises.” Gojo spoke through a toothy grin, making you gulp.

——

“I- I said go ea-syyyy” your hoarse voice squeaked out through their rough thrusts.

Gojo was behind you laying down on his back, he had you in a full nelson, his dick snug inside your ass while his feet were perched on the bed, fucking into you at an inhuman pace.

Geto was on top of you, chest to chest with you as he humped his girthy cock into your pussy. They had somehow convinced you to go without condoms, you were on birth control so you weren’t really worried, but with how they fucked like porn stars maybe you should be.

“Sorry sweetie, didn’t think your ass was gonna be this fucking tight haha,” Gojo laughed through a moan, his cock pistoning in and out of your tight ring.

“Still cant believe you took her anal virginity,” Geto scoffed, not being able to stay too mad at how perfectly your cunt was hugging his cock, already having milked his dick inside you twice.

“You say that like her pussy doesn’t have you coming like a v-virgin- fuck- don’t tighten up like that-“ Gojo chastized, emphasizing his words with a particularly hard thrust.

Geto’s thumb had been steadily rubbing circles on your clit for god knows how long, not even letting up when you came. “Ah! ah! ahn!” High pitched moans were being forced out of your lungs, you barely recognized the sound as your own voice, never having made anything that sounded remotely like this before during sex.

Geto was fucking straight into your gspot, and the precision of his thumb wasn’t helping, as the two of them fucked you straight into your forth orgasm of the night.

“Ohmygoddd, good fucking girl,” Geto praised, grabbing your chin in his face before letting it go and leaving a soft slap on your cheek, making you smile drunkenly.

“Nnghhhh- Fuuuuck- haaah, haaah,” Gojo released the breathe he was holding when your orgasm finished, “Thought she was gonna snap off my cock with that one” he giggled, gasping for breath feeling the twitches and spasms of your ass around him.

“God, gonna fucking cum again- open-“ Geto instructed quickly. Your mouth opened and your pretty pink tongue lolled out of your mouth with a smile still plastered on your face. Geto spit right into your mouth, crushing your cheeks in his hand when you closed your mouth and swallowed what he gave you.

“Yeah what a good little bitch,” He smirked when you stuck your tongue out again, showing him you swallowed. “Such a dirty girl~” Gojo cooed in your ear, sucking your lobe into his mouth as he fucked up into you faster, feeling himself reach his high as well.

Geto’s jaw dropped, his head tipping back as warm spurts filled you up once more, his load was so much thinner than before—having cum so many times inside you— “Take it take it- fuck-“ he stuttered, gasping as he stilled inside you, letting his hot ropes of cum full you up.

His orgasm was prolonged thanks to the thin wall of flesh separating Geto from gojo in your ass. He felt his albino bestfriend frantically fucking into your tight ring, cursing and gasping into the air when he stilled as well.

Gojo pressed his balls right up against your ass, making you whine at how he felt like he was in your fucking guts from how deep he was, “Sh-it ahhhh-“ Gojo gasped, his legs shaking and abs clenching under your back as his orgasm washed over him.

“Don’t think anything came out on that one heh-“ gojo giggled drunkenly, whispering against your ear when he spoke next, “Your tight ass milked me fucking dry.

The two men squeezed their eyes shut, tremors still zapping through their bodies as they let themselves catch their breath, keeping themselves snug inside your holes.

Both of the men’s attention was drawn back to you and out of their rest when they felt your tight walls squeeze around them, “m-more please, p-please give me more,” you whimpered, pouting your bottom lip out as you stared at geto in front of you, reaching your hand down to caress the back of gojos head so he knew you were talking to him too.

“Your kidding” Geto laughed, “Fucking insatiable,” Gojo added with an amused huff.

“Think we fucking broke her,” Geto smiled, glancing at gojo before he took your jaw in his hand, shaking your face back and forth, noticing how your eyes were all out of focus.

“She asked so nicely though,” Gojo reasoned, “Who are we to deny her? huh?” And Geto could think of no good reason to deny you at all.

———

tag list: @collectionofdolls @babygirl-panda19

6K notes · View notes

deadlockfae · 5 months ago

Text

Since I'm busy working on a valentines day drawing I thought we could do something different until I'm done with that. Trivia night! I'll be writing what's basically a compilation of fun facts we've already established or haven't learned yet. We will also learn more about their backstories.

For tonight we have Silas

Silas has a mom and dad but isn't close with neither of them

As a child he was quite needy compared to other elven kids

Elves almost never stray too far away from the elven village but Silas liked to play in the depths of the forest

He learned about humans from a story book he found while playing in the forest

He was amazed by the colorful imagery and the familial relationship depicted in the book and wanted to have the same, which kickstarted his human hyperfixation

He's currently the most knowledgeable elf in humans within the village

His house is located quite far away from the village, he can still reach there by walking but it's not somewhere where the other elves can just stumble upon

He likes sweet things like fruits or honey but dislikes the taste of meat so doesn't feed it to you much as well

He, just like the other elves, while natural with most other living things, hates all demonic creatures

He's very nice and sweet with you but wouldn't glance twice at other forest creatures and is actively hostile towards demons

Of course he would never let you see him make that kind of face

He thought of using magic to make you live as long as he does but it feels like tempering with your humanity so if you die he's planning to die with you

He's actually not that good at magic compared to other elves, he just knows the basics and relies on books for the rest

He's average height for an elf

He doesn't like leaving bite marks or hickeys on your body because it feels like dirtying your perfect form

But he really likes it when you mark his skin, whether they are hickeys or wounds

While more compassionate than other elves, Silas does have a bit of a superiority complex like them

For example, unlike other elves he does see the intelligence of humans but would still say elves are smarter

He doesn't have any ill intentions with it, to him it's just like saying a unicorn is be better than a horse

He doesn't like eating carrots because he thinks they look like elf ears

He loves learning more about you but dislikes hearing about your family

He doesn't want you to have pets, only the two of you are allowed inside his house

He does have a bathroom in his house but it's just a replica of what he saw in books and isn't actually that functional

If you want to use the bathroom for your baths instead of the river like he does, he just carries the water from the river to his house then uses magic to make it rain on you like a shower head

Even if you don't allow him inside the bathroom he still watches from the window

He has a diary where he writes everything you do in a day, from what activities you did to how many times you blink on average

If you offered to live in a human city with him he would refuse, while he likes humans you are his utmost priority and it's better for you to be inside his house away from everyone's reach

3K notes · View notes

deadlockfae · 5 months ago

Text

Shadow Milk Cookie

Fuck this mans and everything he stands for.

Welcoming him to the kingdom I'd get him to live in a tree house to make him feel at home.

Give grandpa a walking stick.

I'm indulging myself a bit here

-Nix🌙

419 notes · View notes

deadlockfae · 6 months ago

Text

Ok so! I completely mismanaged my time and spent a bit too long on what was supposed to be just a Micah sketch.

I literally went "ok I might as well clean the sketch > ok I might as well add some colors > ok I might as well shade it a little > ok I might as well add dialogue-"

Here's an alternative expression

I promise I'll answer more asks tomorrow but it's almost 2 am now and I should go sleep😭

6K notes · View notes

deadlockfae · 6 months ago

Text

pulchra mendacium.

synopsis: Prime Dottore fell in the final battle against Celestia, and the shock caused you to lose your memories. Omega plans to take his place, or more specifically, take you.

includes: dottore (omega) w/ gn! reader

notes: Based on a brainrot of mine. Omega becomes "Zandik" because he wants you. There's fluff but he is basically lying to you the whole time and selfishly justifying his actions. I'm ngl this fic kinda flopped halfway through because I wanted it to be longer but I also lost motivation but didn't want to scrap it, so sorry if it's messy </3.

Despite being Dottore’s most advanced and strongest segment, with power and intelligence that left most people fearful, clearly the best one among the lot - when Omega gazed upon you, there were times when he sorely remembered his true identity in the end.

He was a segment, and his creator was the original.

It was a sentiment shared among all the segments, and he was no different. Despite all the love and attention you gave them, it could never truly compare or feel the same as when you did it to Prime. He came first in your heart, and it was an unspoken, obvious truth. None of the segments were fond of this irrefutable fact of course, but what else could they do but understand their place and be content with what they were given? None dared to overstep their boundaries.

The Omega segment was the exception.

He had always teetered dangerously on the edge when it came to you, taking slightly more of you than he was allowed. Everything he attempted was always strategically done and within reason, he was no fool, after all. And being such a high-ranking segment, it wasn’t like Prime could afford to do anything too harsh.

Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Nothing was enough when it came to you - he selfishly desired all of you to himself. But there were things that even Omega couldn’t cross. Even he had to settle, something uncharacteristic of the man who pursued his interests without faltering. However, he was a patient man. Patience will eventually bring results, no matter how long that may be.

As Omega anticipated, his patience paid off, but not in the way he predicted.

—

The war against Celestia was victorious, but it had come at a terrible price, one you weren’t ready to pay.

Of course, everyone knew that it would be hard-won. Freedom was never easily earned. No amount of preparation could truly prepare anyone for heading into that battle. You yourself were terrified, but you steadied yourself by imagining peaceful days ahead with Dottore. Peaceful days of basking in the sun, your biggest worry being what should be for dinner tonight, no longer having to worry about the illness that plagued your body. You would teach him how to sleep in since his continuous experiments and paperwork would no longer be necessary. He would reteach you the wonders of being healthy again.

Unfortunately, your husband died right in front of you. You were right there, but you were powerless to do anything. You would have never thought this would happen, not the strong and intelligent scientist you loved, how could he fall?

Your Zandik. Your precious Zandik. The Zandik you promised to live out a lifetime of happy days with. He was gone, and you were all alone, all those happy years ahead of you were robbed.

Well, Omega, the last remaining segment and version of Dottore left in his world, had survived with you. But it wasn’t like you could really think or care about that right now, no, the loss of Zandik was far too devastating. After the war concluded, you thought you would be rebuilding your home with your husband. Instead, you were locked inside your room, refusing to come out. Omega was the only one who tended to you - the other Harbingers were either dead, too busy, or not close enough to see you.

Still, it wasn’t as if he was granted any attention. The segment’s words fell on deaf ears, whether you let him touch you or not had become an uncertain chance. And yet Omega was undeterred. With his creator gone, there was no one left to take care of you, the responsibility solely on his shoulders. Not that he minded of course - he’d done it for centuries, it wasn’t any different now. Even if you didn’t spare a glance at him, things would continue to go on. Time would always move forward, and he would remain by your side, waiting for the day when you’d smile at him again.

Most of all, Omega still loved you, even if he knew you’d never love him back as much as you did with Prime.

—

The segment had run through many possibilities of how you’d come to terms with your grief, but the situation he witnessed right now was not one of them.

From the moment he walked into your room to feed you your breakfast, he could tell something was wrong from how wide your eyes were, the confused furrow of your eyebrows, and how you were investigating your room. The two of you paused at each other’s presence before you backed more into the wall as if to guard yourself from him. Your lips parted, shoulders shaking in slight fear.

“Umm… W-Who are you…? And where… where exactly am I?” You looked at him nervously, unsure of what he could do.

Memory loss.

Well, even the ever-calculating segment didn’t see this coming. Immediately, many things ran through his mind. How, why? Did the sheer grief and loss trigger this? Most likely. Could you get your memory back? Maybe. It couldn’t be impossible. Plus, he was unsure as to what memories you lost in particular. What would be the best course of action so as to not frighten you even more? That would be-

“Hello…? Please answer me,” your voice was timid and unsure, heart beating in your chest.

“… Do you truly not remember me?” You shook your head in response. Omega paused before carefully selecting his next words.

“I am your husband.” Your eyes widened slightly at the declaration before narrowing again in disbelief, obviously unsure of the truth of his statement, but he continued on. “You’ve seen the pictures on your desk, as well as the ring on your finger. If you would like to see mine, I shall retrieve it.” (In truth, that was Prime’s ring, but it wouldn’t hurt to borrow it.)

It was true. In the strange room you woke up in, your desk was filled with pictures of an unfamiliar blue-haired man, that was the spitting image of the one you saw before you. The pictures held fond moments, most notably a wedding one, and you did not question how the mask was different considering the great similarity in appearance. Both of you looked at each other with great gentleness.

“And this is your room in our house. We have lived together for years.” It was a good thing that even though the Fatui disbanded, he still kept his mansion. Still, naturally, you looked unsure. Omega sought to remedy your worries, as he always did.

“Do you remember your name, by chance?” You nodded and quietly replied with it. “And what about your preferences? Favorite food? Season? Hobby?” You took a few moments to ponder before nodding your head. At least you seemed to remember yourself, Omega observed. Could the memory loss only apply to anything related to Dottore?

“Very well. Now, ask me things about yourself, especially things you think no one else would know. Surely that would prove how long I’ve known you.” You had to agree with that - of course there’d be secrets you’d tell no one except for a select few. And so you hesitantly started listing off some questions, to which the blue-haired man immediately answered without a second thought. For some of them, he even responded before you got through the question! How did he know you so well…? Guess he really was the real deal, but you turned your gaze to the floor, confusion and sadness still lingering on your expression.

“But how come I don’t remember? … What happened to me? What am I going to do now? How will I- will I ever remember?” Tears started to well in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, truly coming to terms with the situation. Omega only stared at you, his mind still thinking of the possible implications of this situation, but his first priority right now was to comfort you.

“May I approach you?” Your lip quivered, still a bit uneasy about him, but you nodded. Quietly, he made his way over to you, his tall stature hovering over yours. His hand rested on your shoulder and you stiffened momentarily. To be honest, you thought you’d be uncomfortable with it, but for some reason, it felt a bit reassuring. The man then wrapped his arms around you, your head resting on his chest.

“I’ll stay by your side and help you with those questions, and whatever more you need,” Omega wiped a threatening tear from your eyes before it could roll down your cheek. You don’t know why you instinctively felt a bit better, or why his warmth felt so nice.

“Your touch feels familiar.”

“Does it?” You nodded slightly.

“I can’t remember anything about you… but it feels comforting.”

“I’m glad, then.”

“You never told me your name…” You looked up at him, still lost but a trace of hope lingered.

It was in those few moments where Omega made a decision.

He had always known he’d never be what Prime was to you. The segment was smart enough not to fool himself into thinking the opposite. Still, he wondered how it’d feel for you to love him even a fraction of how much you loved the original. It was a tempting feeling. Very, very, tempting… he continued to think.

Perhaps he could become Prime. Perhaps he could become Zandik. Perhaps this was where his selfish desires overtook his rationality.

Logically, if he did that, he would be lying to you about a few key things. And there was the chance you could regain your full memories. There was the issue with his mechanical face too…

However, you would be happy to live out the life you always wanted. He would fulfill the things you wanted to do with Prime instead. Yes, he vividly remembered when you’d tell him all the things you wanted to do when you were healthy. Of course, he would get the love and treatment he’d always selfishly longed for. This would be beneficial for both of you. And so, the segment parted his lips to give you his answer.

“My name is Zandik.”

—

What followed afterward was what he had expected to happen.

There were a lot of things you wanted to ask and yet you felt awkward and as lost as you could be, knowing he was the only link to the world you had anymore. He could feel your flickering glances repeatedly, throat dry as you inquired.

“You said you are my husband, right?”

“Yes.”

“So… that means you l-love me then…?”

“That’s also right.” You fidgeted with your fingers awkwardly, pondering what you should say next.

“If I am correct, you mean to tell me you do not feel any sort of affection for me, yes?” You rubbed your head shyly.

“… I am sorry.” When you looked at the blue-haired man, you couldn’t feel any sort of love for him, although his touch felt familiar. And although you had your own big problems to worry about, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Zandik, having to deal with his beloved not remembering a single thing about him. But he merely shrugged.

“Given the circumstances, it is only natural. We can worry about that later.” However, despite your worries, he seemed pretty calm and collected.

“So… about my memories. You’re gonna tell me about them, right? And you?”

“I could,” he began, “but I have a better idea.” You sent him a confused look. “In the past, many times you’ve told me that you wished to go back to Sumeru to live. Would you still like to do that?” You blinked at Zandik before a look of realization crossed your face.

“Sumeru… yes, Sumeru! My home… why am I even in Snezhnaya in the first place?” A large hand on your shoulder quelled your incoming anxiety.

“I’ll explain soon. But do you want to return with me?”

“I… do.” Even though you hadn’t gone outside yet, you think you’d prefer to live under that familiar sun rather than trudging through the snow daily.

Omega already knew what your answer would be. You had always wanted to go back and live an uncaring, domestic life with Prime after the war, but obviously, you never had the opportunity. It was what you deserved - so many years you were stuck in the lab.

He then approached you, cautiously taking your hand in his. “I believe the sights will help you regain some of what you’ve lost.” You couldn’t disagree with that, and soon enough you two were on a boat to Sumeru, though you weren’t sure why the employees were looking at you and your husband so oddly.

—

The way Sumeru looked so different yet similar to the way you remembered it at your head reeling. You knew for a fact the architecture was not like this.

But what you didn’t understand more was how Zandik managed to get a cozy home completely furnished to your liking in such a nice spot so quickly, but you didn’t question it much. Your husband gave off an aura of importance, perhaps he was good at pulling strings… however he did. More strangely was how calm he was about the situation. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be crying with stress and sadness. But he looked as if everything was turning out fine… You weren’t sure if that made you less or more worried, though the perfect drink he made you eased you of your troubles a bit.

“So… um, Zandik,” your husband’s name rolled off your tongue easily, perhaps because of how much you uttered it in the past. You didn’t notice how he tensed for a split second, still adapting to his new name. “Are you going to tell me everything?” Omega hummed in response.

“Would you be upset if I delayed it once again?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“… I’m beginning to wonder what I was thinking marrying such a strange man. Any normal person would be, I don’t know, fumbling over themselves to help me remember some things. I question your motives.”

“I can assure you that I mean well. I merely want to increase the chances of you remembering.”

“… Well, go on, Zandik.” He smiled at you. Your heart felt a bit funny at that.

“Come with me.” All of a sudden he clasped your hand in his and began leading you out of the door.

“Where are we going?” You glanced down to your joined hands with Zandik. He was warm. Unusually so. You… liked it.

“Where we first met.”

—

“We met at the Akademiya?” You did remember gazing upon the grand building as a child, but you were sure it looked way different than this. And all the shops too, there was nothing here that you remembered.

“Indeed we did,” he led you into the institution, an area where non-students were allowed to come and ago. “We were both students here a very long time ago.” Although he may not have personally experienced it, he still had all the memories of Prime. Pretending was easy.

“Really?” You squinted at the lights, gazing at the architecture that looked unfamiliar. You briefly remember getting in, but it felt like there was a hole blocking something important in your brain.

“Yes. The first time I met you, I thought you were a nuisance.” You nearly tripped at his blatantly rude statement and sent a mixture of a shocked and offended look to him.

“What?” Omega smirked. “I thought you wanted the truth.”

“I didn’t think my husband would think so crudely of me…”

“Well, when I met you I was not your husband. I was just a student who thought you were a pain in my side.” You huffed, but you found yourself oddly intrigued by his words.

“But why?” Omega paused before he responded.

“It didn’t have anything to do with you. I simply disliked the company of most people. But you were persistent in bothering me.”

“How come?”

“According to your words, you said I was too ‘intelligent and cute to resist.’” You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“I-Is that so?”

“It is,” your husband grinned at you.

“So then what?” You two sat down, watching busy students rush past each other.

“You signed up to dorm with me, much to my displeasure. I ignored you for a long time and treated you rather harshly.”

“And I put up with that?”

“You did indeed. I thought you were crazy myself. But then I started to warm up to you. I realized your strength. Your intelligence. Even your beauty, which I had not cared for on anyone before I met you.”

“… I see.” His words left your face a little hot. Alright, now you could see why past you fell for him. He was certainly a smooth talker with a handsome face. However…

“I still can’t remember anything,” you murmured regretfully.

“That’s alright. I remember every moment that we spent together,” he said matter of factly, which you found strange, but you rolled with it anyway.

“Please, continue then,” you urged him.

The rest of the day was spent with Akademiya students sending odd looks at you two actively chatting, a scene quite reminiscent of centuries ago.

—

For a while, you woke up to the delicious smell of coffee. It seemed that it was one of the only things he was capable of making. You’d hypothesized that he probably couldn’t cook because he was buying food for all your meals… you weren’t complaining though. But for some reason, you had hardly seen him eat. It was only when you offered for him to join you that he seemed interested. There was also the issue of his mask - he never took it off… maybe he was self-conscious? You didn’t really know but also didn’t know how to approach the subject.

It also appeared that Zandik was an early riser - or maybe you just liked to sleep in too much. And yet, he never disturbed you from your rest, patiently waiting for you to wake. Whatever request you’d have, he would fulfill it efficiently with no errors. Whenever you’d break down, he would be by your side immediately and somehow comforting you exactly in the way you needed. He could be a listening ear, a reassuring shoulder, a voice of advice… it was almost unnerving how perfect he was being for you.

However, despite all his kindness… your memory simply could not remember anything. Even when he told you the whole four hundred years of sickness story, nothing clicked in your head…

“It’s regrettable that you do not remember anything,” Omega lied. He had always been cunning, to say the least. It took little effort to conveniently write his lesser selves out of the story and make it seem like he was your one and only. Of course, he left out the human experimenting and all. He didn’t want to scare you off right now.

Although, he did feel pity at your downcast look. He did not enjoy seeing you sad of course, nor did he like lying to you, but it would only last a while in the grand scheme of things, because he would take care of you as you deserved.

“Mhm… at least I have you, Zandik,” you sighed. Over the course of months upon months, you had come to grow fond of your husband. Aside from the memory situation, he indulged you in things you had always wanted to do.

The two of you had started a small garden (you were pleasantly surprised when he first brought it up) and spent mornings and nights tending to it together. Stray cats and birds somehow showed up at your doorstep (they were strangely affectionate toward Zandik) and you fed them together. He joined you on your new hobbies (how could he knit that fast?) too. He helped you prep ingredients whenever you cooked but didn’t go further than that “for your own safety,” in his words…

All in all, you could definitely understand why younger you stayed with him forever, and why present you was beginning to long for him in a deeper manner.

“Regardless, I appreciate all you have done for me,” you thanked him while clearing your throat awkwardly, and scooching closer to him on the grass. Sumeru’s evenings could get cold sometimes. You didn’t meet Zandik’s gaze and instead kept it focused on the setting sun. Amazingly enough, the island in the sky that had always been there was no longer to be seen. The sky was clear and beautiful, something you never thought you’d see. Zandik decided to tear his gaze from you too and look up, although he placed his hand on top of yours as you stiffened in surprise.

“Perhaps this isn’t so bad. I can court you properly, forgetting all the times I acted foolishly before.” You warmed at his suggestion.

“Such as?”

“Locking you out of the dorm for one.”

“Wow, you were pretty horrible, huh?” You couldn’t help but laugh and he quietly chuckled as well. “But…” you squeezed his large hand, “I would like that,” you admitted. “I hope to remember everything eventually, but… it would be nice to start over with you.” Omega perked up in delight at your confession, his mind racing with all the ways he would make you fall in love with him again.

“However, I do have one request.”

“Tell me.” Shyly, you raised your hand to his cheek and stroked it, which was softer than you expected.

“I would like to know the face of the man I’m about to kiss.”

Omega knew this was coming. He had put it off as long as he could, but it was only natural you’d get curious about his face. In all honesty, he was slightly unsure of what your reaction would be. It was very possible for you to be scared. At his hesitation, you quickly spoke again.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to,” you backtracked, “Although… it would make it happy to see who you really are, Zandik.” Omega sighed in response.

“My appearance may be offputting. Are you sure?”

“Of course! If past me could deal with it, why couldn’t present me do it?” You smiled, playfully pulling at his cheek to which he batted you away.

“As you wish.” In an instant, what stared back at you was a gleaming red star, no eyes to be found. You blinked, speechless. You weren’t really sure what you were expecting, really, but still.

“Over the centuries, I modified myself to the point I was no longer human,” Omega explained. It wasn’t totally off the mark.

“I kind of had a feeling you weren’t human. I mean, what kind of human can survive only off sweets for breakfast the whole day?” You joked as your fingers went to brush against his metal plate, missing how he sucked in his breath, staying silent.

“This doesn’t bother me, Zandik. I’m happy you showed me. I know I must have chosen you in the past for a reason, regardless of what happened. And I want to stay with you.”

“… I share the sentiment,” Omega replied, senses focused on how close you were. He took hold of your hand and placed it on his lips instead, watching how you inhaled at his boldness. Swallowing away your nervousness, you took his invitation and moved your face closer to his, dropping your hand to lay against his chest instead. Shakily, you finally pressed your lips against his, and your husband immediately took control and pushed you onto the grass, making you gasp.

Finally, you were his.

All his.

—

From then on, the days were as peaceful as you once desired. You two slept in as much as you wanted. You two would bask in the sun and cool off in the shade. You would worry about what was for dinner (even though Zandik didn’t need to eat.) He would take you to hidden places in Sumeru frequently, watching as you brightened at the beauty of the land, and then give him an equally as beautiful look.

These looks were different from the ones who gave him all those years ago. You weren’t falling in love with a mere segment of Zandik, you were falling in love with “Zandik” himself. It was an entirely different experience.

It was wonderful.

Your touches were lavished upon his skin only, your sweet and encouraging words for his ears only. No longer did you need to direct any attention toward those who were less than him. And in return, he would love you better than any of them ever could. It was bliss…

… But of course, he should have expected an obstacle or two.

“I never thought I would see you back in this nation, at least not like this,” a familiar, young voice sounded behind him one day, one that he once bargained with a long time ago.

“… Lesser Lord Kusanali. I must say, I’m surprised it took you this long to visit. You’ve been observing me, haven’t you?” He hummed, uncaring of the God’s presence, continuing to water his plants.

“I have, ever since you stepped foot into Sumeru. You didn’t even try to hide it.”

“Of course. Since you’ve been watching me so thoroughly, then you must know, I have no intentions of causing any harm.” Nahida was silent. The fact that he was telling the truth was still jarring for her. However, that wasn’t why she was here.

“What you’re doing is entirely selfish. I thought you cared for them.” The God knew about what had transpired all those years ago and was able to roughly guess what the segment was doing. Omega scoffed in response.

“Of course I do. That’s why I’ve ascertained that this is the best possible solution.” You were happy like this, enjoying life to its fullest. Before, you were stuck listless and lifeless in a room all day. Surely, the former was the better option, even if he had to withhold some things from you…

“The best solution for you,” she corrected Omega, eyes narrowing. “This is all a lie you’ve crafted to fulfill your selfish desires and-” Before the Dendro God could finish her sentence, Dottore’s segment stood up, looming over her.

“Lesser Lord Kusanali, I would think that someone as busy as yourself would have other things to do than to probe into another’s business,” he dismissed her criticism. “I have been with them for centuries. They have shared everything with me. I know what’s best for them.” So what if it was a lie? It was a beautiful one, was it not? It kept you glowing, happy to wake up every morning, and grateful to rest at night with him.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to hope your memories never truly returned.

But with you smiling at him so sweetly every single day, all the love you could muster reflecting in your gentle gaze, Omega continued to believe he was right.

310 notes · View notes

deadlockfae · 6 months ago

Text

Dottore and his segments get a taste of their own medicine after giving you a job of your own. (In other words, you ignore their need for attention in favor of your work, they get pouty, just like you did.)

As of late, a peculiar sight had made its way into the lab. Actually, peculiar wasn't even strong enough of a word for the agents to use. They had nearly tripped over their feet once they saw the new area of their working quarters in the lab.

In addition to their Lord Harbinger's desk (that was shared amongst the segments depending on the day), there was now another desk on the opposite side of the room, and the cute decorations on it were quite noticeable. Photo frames and stationery. A comfortable and plush chair with a blanket that dropped over it.

... A plushie version of the Harbinger that laid on Dottore's desk, commissioned by you to motivate him.

(A side thought - the number of desks the Doctor had was something to wonder about. One in the lab, one in the office, one in the bedroom - no wonder things were always scattered around the place. But that was something for another day...)

And most importantly, you, Dottore's spouse, standing next to their Lord, rocking back on your heels nervously as he introduced you as their new co-worker.

—

It all began when you approached your husband with a very simple request.

"Dottie, I want a job!" You said with enthusiasm, smile as wide and proud as ever. The scientist paused his work and turned to look at you with a blank expression.

"... A job, you say?" You only puffed your chest out more at his confirmation.

"Yes, a job. I mean, being your lover is already a lot of work for my poor back, but I want to actually work with you! With your research and stuff, like the old days!" Your excitement was completely serious and were it not for your health, it would have been infectious for the scholar. Rarely did he ever meet anyone who was truly interested in his work. But of course, certain restrictions have held you back for a long time now.

"We've already been over this. My work is too dangerous for you," the Doctor sighed as he turned back around to continue whatever he was doing.

"I know, I know, but I meant other kinds of stuff. I've been thinking like... a desk job! It doesn't have to be anything dangerous! I could... sort papers for you? Oh, and you have one of those fancy stamps, right? I could stamp them too! I could rewrite your notes... ah, and the best part - I could help you write reports too! You always liked my essays, didn't you?" You were doing your best to provide Dottore with a convincing case, snuggling up against his firm back. Only another sigh escaped your husband, not really that convinced.

"Come on..." you inhaled his familiar scent, tinged with that laboratory smell that never seemed to go away, but somehow brought comfort to you. "I've been so bored lately... and lonely," you muttered the last part pointedly. "I just want some work to take my mind off things!"

Indeed, there was always limited entertainment and pastimes to occupy yourself with. It was especially boring on days you couldn't get out of bed, or when no segment could afford you attention...

"And you know what, I could give those agents of yours some writing tips, too!"

Yes, there had been many times his employees were not up to his standards, despite how many of them fawned over him (for some odd reason)...

"And I'll be helping you too! It's good for everyone."

Of course, you always felt rather good about yourself if you managed to help him, being the Second Harbinger and all...

"I suppose I shall give it some thought-" Before the man could finish his sentence you started squeezing him tightly while hopping in delight.

"Oh, thank you! So, when do I start? Do I get one of your huge desks too?"

"I didn't say yes yet, darling."

"Shh... we both know what you mean!"

—

And that was how you now clocked in at "work" every day with the agents (later than normal, but you had special privileges.) It was daunting at first for the poor souls, even the ones who secretly admired you from afar (being in the fan club and all.) Even though initially you were merely sorting papers, you were the most important person in that room.

However, soon enough, going to work in this dreary lab became a lot more cheery thanks to your sweet demeanor. Somehow, the atmosphere had become a lot less tense since the last time the segments visited.

The agents had little to no problem speaking to you like a normal person, after you had graciously given them tips on impressing the Harbinger.

"Psst..." you were hovering behind an unsuspecting agent, reading the report she had for Dottore, who jumped at your whisper. "You know, he might click his tongue if you give him that." Although her mask covered her face, you could see that half surprised at how you popped out of nowhere, and half agreeing with your words. Perhaps she felt comfortable enough to spill the situation to you.

"I-I am well aware of that," she deeply sighed, "but no matter what I write, my Lord always seems to be unsatisfied..." You patted her shoulder in sympathy. Having worked with Dottore since the Akademiya days, you knew very well of his distaste for certain things.

"Well, that's why I was hired, friend! To make his and your life easier! See, look here, that's a no-no, he wouldn't appreciate those details, mhm, but this needs to be elaborated on more, uh huh..." Of course, being the good spouse and employee you were, the report was converted into the best one that had ever landed on the Doctor's desk.

On your lunch break, they provided you with some juicy gossip about anything they could get their hands on (the fan club had long reaches, apparently.) Frequently you had to debunk things about Dottore... (the handbook was swiftly revised.)

Needless to say, things seemed to be going well. You looked happier. Motivated. Having new "friends" as your company (that still watched their mouth around you after a single glance from the segments.)

However... an issue arose after a while. One that seemed entirely stupid and impossible.

Now that you were so caught up in your work, when the segments finally had some spare time to come to you, they were... rejected. Yes, they had come to you, fully expecting your devoted attention and kisses that you always gave them without hesitation, but now turned away. (Even more embarrassing, sometimes in front of the agents who kept their eyes glued to their strange chemicals.)

—

It was Omega, of all segments, who was turned away first. The most confident and charming of the bunch left uncharacteristically silent. He had come up behind you and traced his hands against your neck, always being the one who had no shame in touching you. You only softly giggled at the sensation and caught his hand in yours.

"It seems you've been busy for a while, dear." In truth, it was mostly you seeking him out and not vice versa, but the segment hadn't seen you invading his office in a while. The space had gotten too quiet without you.

"Mhm! But I can't imagine how much work you do. My desk is nowhere as cluttered as yours," you smiled as you felt the segment kiss your lashes.

"What do you say to a break with me?" Omega offered, already knowing what your eager response would be.

"Nah, I can't right now."

...

Your words took a few seconds to process through his head.

"Pardon?"

"I have all this work, 'Mega, and other people need my help," you shrugged your shoulders as you swung your legs. "But don't worry. I'm sure we can spend some time later!" You kissed him on the cheek and pulled your chair in before continuing your work.

Omega, the greatest segment, was reduced to a blankly staring man who had been deprived of his lover's attention for the first time.

He was irritable for the rest of the day.

—

Beta was next, the poor thing.

You were always the one he blew off steam to, always willing to listen about his gripes and complaints, offering him consolation in the form of kisses and soft words.

However, you hadn't come to visit in so long, the segment was all pent up and now the agents were beginning to fall victim to him.

Fine then - he'd seek you out. Not because he needed you or missed you or anything of the sort. You were just... halting his progress with the lack of your presence. Yes, that was it.

And so the scientist, donning his grand pink bow tie, swung by your desk.

"So this is where you've been? How boring." Beta was not a segment that you'd want to do paperwork. He much preferred to be hands-on.

"Ah, Beta!" You brightened in delight at seeing one of your lovers. "I missed you!" At least you were always honest about your feelings.

... But to cut a long story short, Beta faced the same conundrum that Omega did.

Someone got turned into a floating Ruin Machine that day.

—

By now all the segments had experienced being turned away from work. Alpha's signature scowl had become permanent. Zandy was pouting the whole day as he missed his parent. Foxttore kept to himself with a pathetic sopping wet eye. His segments were fighting with each other inside his mind, a great nuisance.

All because you were too absorbed with your work to pay them any attention.

... The Doctor was now realizing that it sounded like a very familiar tune sung by you. So this was what you felt for days on end? Now, it was easier for him to understand why you were always upset if you were ignored too much.

Still, it was mortifyingly embarrassing that his segments were reduced to this pitiful state just because you rejected cuddles a few times. Regardless, it was up to him to solve the issue. After all... he missed you too. He wanted you to be around him more often again.

And so the Doctor made his way to his beloved.

There you were, all cozy on your seat as you sorted through some papers. Really, he had no clue you'd be this productive, to be honest. At least it was proof that your health hadn't gotten worse, considering how well you were handling this.

"Aren't you the one who kept saying to take breaks?" His voice made you jump a bit, having not heard him walk up.

"It's you, Dottie! I was wondering when you'd come around. And of course, I take breaks, Dottore. I have lunch with the other agents!" Ah, another party that's been hogging your attention.

"You know, this job has been pretty fun, Dottore! Everyone's real nice, we make jokes, I get to write about interesting things..." You continued to go on about the research and while usually he'd be intrigued by your findings, this time he had enough.

Dottore picked you up like a long cat as you squealed from the sudden grasping.

"What are you doing?!"

"You're coming with me," was his cut and dry response as he lifted you into his arms.

"B-But I have to work on the big report for Pantalone!" Dottore's eye twitched at the mention of the banker.

"Someone else can."

"But I-"

"I'm not listening to anything you say further," he plainly said as he walked with you cuddled into his chest as you gawked at him.

Could he be... jealous? A wee bit lonely? You kept your guesses to yourself as he eventually bought you back to his room and laid you on his bed, not even saying anything to you before sitting at his desk.

Did he simply miss your presence that much? You felt a bit bad neglecting your lovers that much. But to be fair, they kinda did the same... sometimes. You got up to console your silly husband, who was just a man in your hands.

"Hey... I missed you too, dear husband... but I had to make sure no one stole the title of best assistant from me!" Dottore only sighed at your foolishness.

Of course no one could ever replace you.

"I know you'd rather die than admit it... but don't worry. You're lucky I'm sensitive to your feelings," you teased as you kissed the top of his mask. "I'll pay more attention to you and the segments, before they cause another headache for you, love. You'll give me some vacation time off, right?"

You laughed at your own joke before Dottore pulled you into his lap, biting down hard on your neck.

—

"Beloved, would you care to join me in discussing your work?"

"You fool, they're obviously coming to my lab to activate a new Ruin Machine."

"But [Name] is supposed to play with me today!!"

"As if, they're far too busy to join you all with your silly games."

"You all will stress them out with this arguing. Now, why don't you join me for a cup of coffee instead?"

"Grr, gr gr, grr!"

It was good to be loved so deeply.

614 notes · View notes

deadlockfae · 6 months ago

Text

Trash Novel Chronicles: Please Let Me Live - Vil Schoenheit x reader

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think? Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

Series Masterlist

You'd avoided it for so long. For months, your best friend had been pestering you to read the shoujo isekai novel of the year. According to them, it was the epitome of romantic drama, the kind that would "turn your heart into a mess of feelings" and "change your life." So, finally, after a particularly grueling week, your willpower hit rock bottom. You caved. You bought it, poured yourself a drink, and figured, "How bad can it be?"

Turns out, really bad.

You’d barely made it past the first few chapters before your brain began to leak out of your ears. Every overused villainess plot point imaginable was crammed into the story like a contest of "how much nonsense can we fit in here before the reader gives up?" The evil fiancée everyone inexplicably hated? Check. The perfect cinnamon roll male lead everyone adored even though he had the personality of wet cardboard? Double check. The heroine who was so pure that even her sneeze would be enough to unite warring nations who also happens to be the saintess? You had to put the book down and take a moment when she gave a speech about friendship that was so saccharine, your teeth hurt.

Grumbling and filled with regret, you got up to refill your drink… only to slip on bubble wrap you swore yesterday that you were going to pick up later, fall face-first into the kitchen counter, and began to bleed out.

It was a comically stupid way to die. You knew that as you lay there, watching the light fade from your vision, your last thoughts being, This is the dumbest thing that’s ever happened to me.

And then, darkness.

You woke up with a groan, your head pounding. As your vision cleared, you noticed you were lying in a very, very fancy bed. Silk sheets, gold trimming on the canopy, the works. And you were dressed in something frilly, layered, and far too complicated for someone who just woke up from a near-death experience.

"What the…"

You sat up, rubbing your eyes, only to freeze as the realization hit you. This was not your bed. This was not your apartment. This was… Oh god, no.

You whipped your head around the lavish room, recognizing it from the novel you’d been hate-reading just last night. The massive mirror above the dresser, the tapestry with an overly detailed family crest, the obnoxiously large bouquet of roses that smelled way too sweet.

You’re in the book.

Panicking, you scrambled out of bed and rushed to the full-length mirror by the wall. The reflection staring back at you was not your own. Instead, you saw an unfamiliar face—her face. The one mentioned once, maybe twice, in the whole novel before being discarded like an old shoe: the betrothed of the villain.

The fiancée who dumps him for the male lead. The fiancée who gets themselves killed in the process.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned, slapping your forehead. “I’m the villain’s betrothed? I’m that idiot who leaves Vil Schoenheit because I fall for the human incarnation of a sugar cube?”

But there was no escaping it. You were now stuck in the body of a side character so irrelevant that even her death was treated as an afterthought. The one who leaves her handsome, ambitious, gorgeous fiancé for… Neige.

No. No, no, no. You were not about to die over a soggy cinnamon roll.

Determined to change your fate, you gathered your wits and opened the door to leave the room. But of course, you ran headlong into a tall figure, knocking you both back.

“Oof! Careful there!” a smooth, yet stern voice said. You looked up—and froze. Standing before you, looking like something straight out of a high-fashion magazine, was Vil Schoenheit. The man whose heart you were supposed to break, the villain who would later descend into madness after you ditch him.

And wow. In person, he was even more stunning than the novel had described. His golden-blond hair shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the window, his purple eyes were as sharp as they were beautiful, and his posture screamed confidence.

You blinked up at him, utterly dumbfounded. You’re supposed to leave him? For Neige? You nearly gagged at the thought.

Vil raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your wide-eyed staring. “Is something the matter?”

You gulped. Right. You were supposed to be cold and dismissive toward him, weren’t you? But how? This man looked like he could make the heavens weep with his beauty. How had your character ever even considered leaving him?

“No, nothing’s the matter!” you blurted out, a little too enthusiastically. “Actually, everything’s great! You look fantastic! I mean, not that you don’t always look fantastic—because you do—but, you know, extra fantastic today!”

Vil’s eyes narrowed. “You’re acting strange.”

Abort. Abort!

You quickly cleared your throat. “Uh, I’ve just been… thinking. About us.”

His gaze became sharper. “About us?”

You nodded, plastering on your most sincere smile. “Yes! I’ve realized… I haven’t been very, uh, appreciative of you lately. And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. So from now on, I’ll be the most appreciative fiancée ever!”

Vil looked at you as though you’d just told him the sun was cold. He clearly didn’t trust this sudden change in attitude. “What exactly brought this on?” he asked slowly, suspiciously.

Time for Plan B. “Oh, you know, just… reflection! Self-improvement! I thought, ‘Why would I ever look anywhere else when I’ve got someone like *you* right in front of me?’ You’re… amazing, really.” You cringed internally at how corny that sounded, but Vil didn’t seem entirely put off.

“Hm,” was all he said, but his piercing gaze stayed locked on you, watching for any sign of deceit.

You were sweating bullets, but at least he wasn’t storming off. Yet.

You knew from the moment you read the back cover that this novel was going to be a dumpster fire of clichés, but you were not prepared for the sheer chaos of it all.

So, first off, we have the heroine—the Saintess—who has somehow never faced a single hardship in her life, despite the fact that she’s supposed to be the kingdom’s beacon of virtue and a symbol of overcoming hardship. She’s engaged to the crown prince, who conveniently disappears on a diplomatic mission and dies offscreen, probably to make room for her new love interest, Neige LeBlanche. Neige. That sparkly ray of sunshine who is so perfect and pure that you feel like you need sunglasses whenever his name is mentioned. Because apparently, what’s more romantic than falling for a guy immediately after your fiancé kicks the bucket?

Then there’s the second male lead, the brooding Duke of the North, who checks all the boxes: tall, brooding, handsome, tragic backstory—yawn. Of course, he’s madly in love with the Saintess, and like any self-respecting second male lead in a trashy romance, he sacrifices himself for her later. Because nothing says “I’m irrelevant” quite like noble self-sacrifice.

And don't even get started on the heroine's best friend. She’s basically there to fawn over the Saintess and then inexplicably fall for Vil, the Grand Duke, after she pressures him into apologizing for insulting the heroine's dress. Like, why? Was his dress critique that alluring?

Now, Vil Schoenheit. The Grand Duke. The guy you’re currently stuck with as your fiancé. He’s actually a decent character—powerful, intelligent, not falling over himself to worship the Saintess like everyone else. But in the novel, he’s wasted. Why? Because he’s engaged to the character you’re now possessing—Miss Mean and Cold—who treats him like dirt because she’s too busy fantasizing about Neige. You know, the guy she has no shot with because he’s destined to fall for the Saintess. Then, when your character eventually dumps Vil for Neige, she dies in a freak accident. Vil, who actually loved her (for reasons no one understands), is so heartbroken that he turns into the main villain.

Yes, that’s right—this whole mess of a plot ends with Vil going full villain mode because the love of his life ditched him for the living embodiment of a children’s snowman and then died in a way that no one can explain. Cue the Saintess and Neige teaming up to defeat him and live happily ever after.

And that’s the story. A tangled web of nonsensical relationships, conveniently dead characters, and more emotional whiplash than you can handle. And the cherry on top? You're stuck in it, watching everything unfold firsthand. It's honestly a wonder the book didn’t end up as kindling.

A few days passed, and somehow, miraculously, you managed to keep up the act. Every morning you would wake up, still half-expecting to snap out of this bizarre isekai nightmare, but instead, you were met with Vil’s meticulous morning routine and the low hum of his voice offering helpful reminders about skincare.

And the more time you spent with him, the more baffled you became.

How the hell could the original character have messed this up?!

Sure, Vil was particular—okay, maybe borderline obsessive—about appearances. His lectures about proper sunscreen application could rival the length of the Odyssey. And yes, the daily inspections of your outfit choices felt a little like going through customs at a royal border.

But… he was kind? Like, actually caring?

Every meal was an event because he made sure you were eating properly and not just shoving random food into your mouth like the gremlin you clearly were before. He listened when you rambled about your day, offering advice with this gentle patience that honestly made you want to weep. How could anyone leave this?

You found yourself in front of a mirror one afternoon, pacing and gesturing wildly at your reflection, as if you could summon the spirit of the character you’d possessed. "What the actual hell was wrong with you?!" you hissed at the glass. “What kind of brain rot would make someone ditch a man like Vil?! Are you missing brain cells, or was your skull just a rental with nothing in it?!”

You paused, glaring at your reflection as if it could offer answers, but nope. It just stared back, helpless.

“Like, hello?!” you continued, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “You had a golden opportunity here! He’s literally gorgeous! He’s got hair that looks like it was hand-spun by some ancient beauty god, his fashion sense could kill a lesser mortal, and he—*gasp*—cares about your well-being?!”

You slapped your forehead dramatically. “How did you mess this up? Were you allergic to good things? Did you wake up every day and choose to be a feral raccoon instead of, I don’t know, appreciating this actual masterpiece of a human being? What, did you look at his perfect face and go, ‘Nah, I’d rather yeet myself into self-destruction?’ Because clearly, that’s what happened!”

Your reflection remained silent, offering no help, which only fueled your rant further.

“You absolute donut! You ridiculous bottle of poorly mixed potion! You—” You stopped mid-sentence, running out of sufficiently creative insults to throw at the former owner of this body. Because seriously, what kind of fool would’ve thrown Vil away?

You gripped the sides of the vanity table, leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at your own reflection. "If I find out that you gave up on this because he once asked you to wear a face mask or told you to drink more water… I swear, I'm going to find a way to repossess you just to kill you again for making me deal with this."

A soft knock at the door startled you out of your self-directed tirade. You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around to see Vil standing in the doorway, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Talking to yourself again?” he asked, his voice smooth but with a teasing edge. “You know, that’s usually a sign of stress. Perhaps we should revisit that meditation routine I mentioned.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, wondering how much he’d overheard. But then you caught sight of that soft smile he reserved just for you, and your brain short-circuited all over again.

Right. The original character was definitely an idiot.

The first major hurdle hit you when you least expected it.

It all started with what should have been a calm afternoon—a brief moment of peace where you and Vil could actually spend time together, no schemes, no weird confrontations, just enjoying tea. You were finally getting comfortable with each other, slowly building the trust that had been so fragile at the start. Finally, you thought, things were moving smoothly.

Then the overused villainess trope decided to rear its ugly head.

Vil was talking about an upcoming event he’d be hosting, his voice calm, his usual stern features softened just slightly by the moment of peace. You were finally letting your guard down.

That was until the door creaked open and in waltzed the heroine’s best friend, a girl with wide, doe-like eyes and a penchant for stirring up unnecessary drama. Behind her, looming in the doorway, was the second male lead—your eternal source of frustration from the novel. He was tall, brooding, and always, always popping up at the most inconvenient moments. A defeated looking Epel walked in behind them, with a look that screamed 'trust me I tried to stop them.'

“Oh no,” you whispered under your breath, recognizing this scene before it could even play out. You knew what was coming, and you braced yourself for the utter absurdity of it.

Vil’s sharp gaze flicked from the two intruders back to you, his brows furrowing in mild irritation. “What is it now?” he muttered, already sensing the impending nonsense.

The heroine’s friend, ever the bringer of chaos, marched right up to your table with a dramatic flair that could only come from someone who believed they were the only purveyor of justice. “I can’t stay quiet any longer!” she declared, pointing an accusatory finger in Vil’s direction. “Vil, how could you treat the heroine this way?! You’ve been so cold, so distant—and it’s clear that you don’t truly care for anyone but yourself!”

You blinked. Excuse me?

Vil’s lips pursed, the irritation growing on his face. “And what, pray tell, did I do?”

“You know what you did!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms like she’d just delivered the most damning statement in history. “You’ve been ignoring her, brushing her off, and acting like she doesn’t even exist. She’s heartbroken because of you!”

You groaned internally. Oh no, this was that scene. The one where, because Vil once made an offhand comment about the heroine’s poor choice in dresses at a ball, suddenly he was painted as some cruel villain who was emotionally tormenting the delicate heroine. It was such an incredibly stupid misunderstanding that you distinctly remembered wanting to throw the book across the room when you’d first read it.

To make matters worse, the second male lead, standing silently but brooding in the doorway, was glowering at Vil like he was ready to challenge him to a duel at any moment. Because of a comment about a dress.

“Are you serious?” you blurted out, the frustration bubbling up before you could stop yourself.

The heroine’s friend gasped, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?!”

“Let me get this straight,” you said, rising from your seat with a groan, “you’re upset because Vil, what, didn’t shower her with praise at the last event? And now you’ve decided to come in here, storming into our tea time, to complain about it?”

The second male lead’s brooding scowl deepened, his jaw tightening. “Vil has been cruel—”

“About a dress.” You cut him off, waving your hand dismissively. “Vil made one comment about her dress. That’s it. And now we’re doing this whole song and dance like he’s some kind of evil tyrant?”

The room was already tense, the heroine’s best friend visibly fuming, but you couldn’t help it. The words just came out before you could stop them.

“And while we’re at it,” you said, your voice dripping with mock innocence, “let’s talk about that dress. You know, the one you’re all so upset about. I mean, I’m no fashion expert, but who in their right mind thought wearing that shade of mustard-yellow was a good idea?”

The friend’s mouth fell open, but you weren’t finished. “I mean, she walked into the ballroom looking like a sad banana trying to go to a high society function. I get it—saintess and all that—but there’s no reason to dress like the interior of an overripe cantaloupe.”

Vil made a choking sound next to you, and you dared to glance at him. His eyes were wide with shock, but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement. Oh, he wasn’t pleased with the crudeness, but he definitely wasn’t going to stop you either.

“And you,” you said, turning to the second male lead, who had been standing there like a silent, brooding statue, just staring at the two of you menacingly. “What’s your excuse? You came in here with all this brooding energy, acting like you’re about to duel someone over the fate of the heroine. But seriously, what’s with your whole tragic hero act? Is your personality just permanent raincloud or do you practice that in the mirror?”

Vil covered his mouth with his hand, and you could see his shoulders shaking slightly. He was losing the battle to keep his composure, but he was trying—for dignity’s sake, of course.

Epel, on the other hand, had completely given up. The moment you’d said “sad banana,” he had fallen off his chair, doubled over in laughter, his face red as he clutched his sides. You weren’t sure if it was your insults or the second male lead’s thunderstruck expression, but either way, Epel was in hysterics.

“I—” the heroine’s friend sputtered, but you interrupted her again.

“Oh, and you.” You looked her up and down with a condescending smirk. “You really want to talk about fashion? Because I don’t know who told you that wearing ruffles with plaid was a look, but they were wrong. You’re out here looking like you got lost in a fabric store and fell into the clearance bin.”

This time, Vil snorted. Actually snorted. The sound was so out of place that it almost derailed your tirade, but you powered through, buoyed by his reaction.

The second male lead looked like he was ready to explode, his aura now bordering on murderous. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, can’t I?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Because it seems like all of you came in here with the intent to stir up drama over something as trivial as a constructive remark. If you’re going to go to war over fashion, at least wear something that doesn’t look like you picked it out with your eyes closed. Scratch that, I couldn’t imagine picking that up even with my eyes closed.”

By now, Epel was rolling on the floor, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “C-couldn’t pick it out… with your eyes closed!” he wheezed, slapping his knee.

Vil, despite himself, let out a low giggle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well,” he said, his voice steady but filled with mirth, “I suppose subtlety was never your strong suit.”

The heroine’s friend, now red-faced and flustered beyond belief, grabbed the second male lead by the arm and yanked him toward the door. “This isn’t over,” she spat, glaring at you. “We’ll see who’s laughing when the heroine—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved dismissively, “when the heroine what? Realizes she’s been pining for someone who can't tell mustard from elegance? Trust me, I’m not worried.”

With that, they both stormed out, slamming the door behind them in a huff of embarrassment and frustration. The second they were gone, you let out a breath and sank back into your chair, grinning at Vil, who was now openly smiling.

“You really didn’t hold back, did you?” Vil said, his amusement evident despite his usual calm demeanor. “I don’t approve of such… crude insults, but I must admit—” his lips twitched— “it was rather effective.”

Epel, still recovering from his laughing fit, managed to haul himself back into his seat, wiping tears from his eyes. “That was… that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said between gasps for air. “I can’t believe ya said that right to their faces!”

“Glad to be of service,” you said with a grin, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d actually said all of that out loud. But judging by Vil’s pleased expression and Epel’s ongoing laughter, it had been worth it.

Maybe surviving this trash novel wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You’d barely had time to process how bizarrely normal your life as the villain’s fiancée had become when the next absurd isekai plot point decided to rear its ugly, trope-filled head again.

It all started at yet another lavish tea party. Honestly, you’d begun to lose track of how many of these events you were forced to attend. They all blurred together into a haze of polite smiles, floral patterns, and far too much sugar.

This time, you were seated next to Vil, who, as always, looked like he had just stepped out of a renaissance painting. You, on the other hand, were trying not to spill tea on the new dress he’d insisted you wear. The dress itself was lovely, of course—Vil had impeccable taste—but the whole setting made you feel like you were constantly walking on eggshells. Especially since she was here. The heroine.

Today, though, you were determined to get through it without any drama. Just smile, nod, and let the heroine do her thing. Easy, right?

Wrong.

Everything had been going smoothly, too. The heroine, in all her sunshiney glory, was seated at the table, surrounded by her usual group of admirers. You had been doing a great job of fading into the background until someone—the hostess, perhaps?—brought up your previous adventures.

“Oh, didn’t you once accompany the Grand Duke to deal with that bandit problem on the eastern border?” the hostess asked, fanning herself with interest. “What a thrilling ordeal!”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the weight of too many eyes on you. “Well, I wouldn’t say thrilling exactly…” you began, trying to downplay it, but your nerves had other ideas. “I mean, the heroine here was probably off rescuing some poor lost puppy while I was just, you know, holding down the real danger.”

The air went cold.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. The table fell silent, save for the quiet clinking of teacups being set down. Every eye was on you. The heroine’s wide, eyes blinked at you, full of hurt and confusion. And across from you, the second male lead—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding—looked like he was ready to leap across the table and strangle you on the spot.

Oh no. Oh no no no. Why did you leave your filter at home?

You opened your mouth to apologize, but before you could, the second male lead slammed his cup down on the table, the porcelain rattling ominously. “You dare insult her honor?!” he roared, rising from his seat like some kind of vengeful storm cloud. “I will not stand for this!”

*Why did I say that?* You cringed internally, face turning a bright shade of crimson. "I-it was a joke—"

“No,” he declared dramatically, pointing a finger at you. “I demand satisfaction! A duel for her honor!”

You were still too stunned to respond, your brain scrambling to make sense of the situation. A duel? Over this? All you’d implied was that the heroine wasn’t exactly… battle-hardened. Surely that wasn’t duel-worthy? This man was acting like you’d called his mother a turnip or something worse.

The heroine, ever the epitome of grace, tried to intervene. “There’s no need for—”

But Mr. Broody wasn’t having it. “No! Her honor has been besmirched, and I shall defend it with my life!”

Vil, who had been watching this spectacle unfold with an expression of mild disgust, finally rose from his chair. His cool gaze swept over the table, landing on the second male lead with all the intensity of a snake about to strike.

“If anyone’s honor has been besmirched,” Vil said icily, “it’s mine. And I will not allow my betrothed to be disrespected by the likes of you.”

You blinked up at Vil, stunned. “Wait, you’re going to duel him? Yourself?”

Vil turned his piercing gaze to you, and though his face remained calm, there was a glimmer of something softer in his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “I would never entrust such a matter to anyone else. Besides…” His lips curled into a smirk. “It’s been a while since I’ve put an upstart in his place.”

You gulped, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed. Was it getting hot in here?

The second male lead, apparently unaware of just how screwed he was, smirked triumphantly. “Very well! Let’s settle this once and for all.”

The duel was set for the next day in your estate gardens. You spent the time leading up to it pacing back and forth in your chambers, wringing your hands in nervous anticipation. Somewhere along the way, you’d decided that you needed to do something—anything—to support Vil. So you had spent hours learning how to embroider a handkerchief, your fingers aching from the effort. By the time you finished, you were practically shaking, but you were proud of the result.

You didn’t expect Vil to be touched, let alone notice that you’d worked so hard. But when you handed him the handkerchief just before the duel, his eyes widened in surprise.

“You made this?” he asked, holding it delicately between his fingers, as if it were some priceless artifact.

You nodded sheepishly. “I figured, you know, for luck. Or to rub it in his face after you beat him. Whichever.”

Vil chuckled, his usually sharp expression softening. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low. He then noticed the small needle marks on your hands and frowned. “You hurt yourself.”

You quickly hid your hands behind your back. “It’s nothing! I mean, I’m fine. Just a few pricks here and there.”

Vil’s expression softened even further, and for a moment, he looked almost… touched. He carefully tucked the handkerchief into his coat pocket, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll be sure to put this to good use.”

You didn’t swoon. Well, maybe just a little.

The duel was, in a word, ridiculous.

The second male lead strutted around like a peacock, his sword gleaming in the afternoon sunlight as he swung it dramatically for the small crowd that had gathered. “Prepare yourself, Schoenheit!” he bellowed, pointing his sword at Vil.

Vil, on the other hand, looked utterly unimpressed. He barely glanced at the man before calmly removing his coat and handing it to you. “Hold this, will you?”

You took the coat with a nod, trying not to pass out from how effortlessly graceful he looked even in the midst of preparing for a fight.

The second male lead lunged forward with all the finesse of a drunken ox, his sword clashing loudly against Vil’s. For a moment, it looked like a real duel—until Vil, with a single fluid motion, disarmed the man in one clean strike. The second male lead’s sword went flying, landing in the bushes several feet away with a pathetic thud.

The crowd gasped, and you had to stifle a laugh. It had barely been five seconds, and the duel was already over.

The second male lead stood there, stunned, his hand frozen mid-air where his sword had been. He blinked once, twice, then turned bright red with embarrassment. “W-what?!”

Vil, ever composed, didn’t even break a sweat. He sheathed his sword and gave the man a cold, dismissive look. “This duel is over. Consider your demand for satisfaction... fulfilled. Now, kindly leave before you embarrass yourself further.”

You bit your lip, trying not to giggle as the second male lead sputtered and tried to come up with an excuse, but it was clear to everyone that he had been utterly humiliated. Even the heroine, standing off to the side, looked like she was struggling to keep a straight face.

As the second male lead stumbled off, defeated, Vil turned to you and offered his hand. “Shall we go?”

You took his hand, still trying to process how easily he had won. “You were amazing,” you blurted out, your heart fluttering as you gazed up at him. “Seriously, that was… wow.”

Vil smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Of course I was.” He then leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And I expect a proper reward later for defending your honor.”

Your face went beet red, and you were pretty sure you’d forgotten how to breathe.

Yep, you thought as he led you away, his hand still in yours, surviving this trash novel might not be so bad after all.

It happened at one of those overly extravagant banquets the royal court liked to throw. You spotted Neige from across the room, all bright eyes and an innocent smile. He was the epitome of purity, as if his very presence could summon woodland creatures to frolic at his feet.

And you hated him on sight.

You watched in disbelief as everyone around him melted into puddles of admiration. He was practically glowing, and his overly cheerful, squeaky voice was grating on your ears.

The overly saccharine male lead stood there, looking like a cross between a baby bunny and a sentient cupcake. Everything about him screamed "pure-hearted." You nearly gagged on your drink, hoping no one noticed your grimace.

Vil noticed your sour expression and leaned in. “Is something the matter?”

“That’s him, isn’t it?” you said through clenched teeth. “The one I used to follow around?”

Vil followed your gaze, and for a moment, his lips twitched in the faintest show of amusement. “Yes. That’s Neige.”

You snorted. "I can't believe anyone in their right mind would prefer him over you."

Vil's lips curled into a smirk, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh? Is that so?” His voice was silky, dangerously low, but you could see the flash of satisfaction behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you muttered, still glaring in Neige's direction. “I mean, look at him. He’s so… good. And not in a ‘wow, what a decent person’ way. It’s like he’s one bad haircut away from sprouting fairy wings and breaking into song.”

Vil let out a low chuckle, right next to you ear, (Lord, have mercy) the sound sending shivers down your spine. “I never thought I’d hear you speak this way about him. You’ve been fawning over Neige for as long as I can remember.”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up. “That was the old me. The dumb me. I mean, have you seen you?” You gestured dramatically toward him. “How could anyone even look at Neige when you exist?”

Vil was quiet for a moment, watching you intently. His violet eyes glinted with something unreadable, but you could tell he was pleased. Oh, he was very pleased.

“You certainly have changed,” he murmured, the smirk never leaving his lips. “And I must admit, I find it rather… delightful.”

Before you could respond, a very familiar voice rang out from behind you. “Ah! What a beautiful reunion this is! A moment filled with l’amour, sparkling like the stars in the sky!”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Rook Hunt appeared seemingly out of thin air, his hands dramatically clasped together as he beamed at you both. “I have seen many couples in my lifetime, but none quite so radiant as you two.”

You blinked, trying to recover from his sudden appearance. “Rook… were you just… hiding in the curtains again?”

Rook, ever the dramatist, placed a hand on his heart and smiled wistfully. “Ah, but how could I stay away when the beauty of your love draws me in like a moth to a flame?”

Vil raised an eyebrow. “Rook, you’re not helping.”

“Non, non, mon ami,” Rook insisted, twirling in place with a flourish. “I am merely basking in the glow of what is surely a love for the ages! The way your eyes meet, the subtle tension in the air—it is magnifique!”

You sighed, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but chuckle at Rook’s antics. Meanwhile, from the other side of the ballroom, Epel was watching the scene unfold with barely concealed amusement. He caught your eye and shot you a grin, raising his glass as if to say, Good luck with this.

But the fun wasn’t over. Oh no. Neige, the human embodiment of a children’s choir, started making his way toward you. As he approached, his bright eyes locked on yours, his smile so innocent and wide that you almost felt bad for what you were about to do.

Almost.

“Good evening!” Neige greeted you, his voice as sweet as sugar. “I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to properly meet.”

You stared at him for a moment, unimpressed. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

Neige blinked, clearly taken aback by your lack of enthusiasm. He probably wasn’t used to people not immediately falling at his feet. “It’s truly wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You squinted at him. “Mm-hmm.”

Vil, standing beside you, looked positively elated. You could practically feel the smug energy radiating off of him. He wasn’t even hiding his smile anymore.

Neige continued, oblivious to your complete disinterest. “I’m so glad we’ll have the chance to spend time together in the coming months! I hope we can—”

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” you interrupted, turning away and pointedly ignoring his very existence.

Neige blinked again, looking like a lost puppy. You almost felt a little bad. Almost.

Vil, on the other hand, looked like Christmas had come early. His arm slipped around your waist, his touch gentle. “I must say,” he murmured into your ear, his voice laced with amusement, “I’ve never enjoyed one of these balls quite so much.”

Yup, maybe this novel isn't that trashy after all?

Everytime you think this novel might not be that bad, it manages to prove you wrong.

The day had finally arrived: the Founding Day Ball. The event to end all events, where the kingdom’s most distinguished were honored in a grand ceremony. And, of course, at the top of the list of honorees was Vil, who might as well have been carved into the actual history of the kingdom itself with how perfect he was.

As his partner for the evening, you were dressed to the nines, dripping in elegance you didn’t even know you were capable of. When you caught your reflection in one of the massive ballroom mirrors, you had to do a double-take.

"Who is that?" you whispered, eyes wide. "Oh. It’s me."

Honestly, if there was a chance of impressing anyone here, you were impressed with yourself.

The ceremony went as expected. Vil was awarded the highest honors, his name met with thunderous applause as he gave a speech that left the crowd swooning. You found yourself half-clapping, half-gawking, wondering how this man kept getting more perfect. Like, was he actually human?

But as the evening progressed, the dreaded scene you despised the most crept into the evening, like a bad smell at a gourmet dinner.

After the ceremony, it was time for the opening dance. Naturally, Vil, being the epitome of grace and nobility, was the prime candidate to lead it. You were fully expecting him to ask you, but before he could even turn in your direction, the heroine — yes, that heroine — appeared out of nowhere, like she was materializing straight from the pages of the worst romance novel ever written.

“Vil,” she said in a voice that sounded like honey and broken promises, “I trust you’ll grant me the honor of the first dance.”

You blinked. *Excuse me?*

She said it so confidently, as if it were a foregone conclusion, like she was used to the world revolving around her whims. It was the equivalent of someone just cutting the line in front of you at the store and expecting applause for their audacity.

Vil, for his part, didn’t even flinch. His expression was as cool and elegant as ever, but you could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“I’m afraid,” he said, voice smooth and polite, “I already have a partner for the first dance.”

The heroine’s face froze in a way that almost made you choke on your own breath. “W-What?” She blinked rapidly, as if her brain couldn’t process the fact that someone had just told her no.

You, too, were a little stunned, for a seperate. Was she actually planning on throwing a tantrum right now? In public? At a literal state function?

“B-But you always dance with me,” she stammered, voice rising in disbelief, her face turning an alarming shade of pink. “I’m supposed to be your first dance!”

You physically had to stop yourself from snorting. Always? He has never even looked at her for longer than five seconds! You couldn't recall a single time Vil had given her anything beyond basic pleasantries. The only reason she’d be in his line of sight was because she was constantly putting herself there.

Vil’s lips twitched slightly, though whether it was out of irritation or amusement, you couldn’t tell. “I don’t recall ever dancing with you,” he said calmly, as though she were discussing someone else entirely.

The heroine blinked, clearly taken aback. “W-What?”

Vil’s voice dropped to an even icier tone, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “In fact, I dislike the very idea of it.”

The heroine made a strangled sound behind you, like a baby bird trying to scream.

You looked around the room, half-expecting hidden cameras to pop out, because this had to be a prank. Who acts like this?!

And as you floated onto the dance floor with Vil, you couldn’t help but marvel at the absolute insufferable nature of the scene you’d just witnessed. This was, without a doubt, the moment that solidified your hatred for the trash-tier novel world you’d been trapped in. People like her actually existed here?

Behind you, the heroine stomped her foot like a petulant child, completely ignored by the crowd. It would’ve been almost sad if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

And as you twirled under the chandeliers, feeling Vil’s warmth beside you and the heroine’s tantrum echoing faintly in the background, one thing became crystal clear:

This novel may have been trash, but at least you were the one dancing with the prince of perfection.

It hit you like a ton of bricks one day—completely out of nowhere. You had been sitting in Vil’s study, watching him work. He was meticulously going over some documents, his brow furrowed in concentration, his golden hair falling perfectly in place despite him having been there for hours. You were supposed to be reading through some kingdom protocol book, but instead, your gaze kept drifting over to him.

He’s so… beautiful.

You blinked, the thought suddenly snapping you out of whatever trance you’d fallen into.

Wait…

Your eyes widened. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

You slammed the book shut, startling Vil from his work as you stood up abruptly. “I-I need some air.”

Vil raised an elegant eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “Something the matter?”

“No! Nothing’s the matter!” you said, far too quickly, your voice an octave higher than usual. You stumbled over your chair in your haste to get out of the room, nearly tripping on your own feet. “I just—need to—um—fresh air, yes, exactly!”

Before Vil could say anything else, you bolted from the study and down the hall, your heart racing as though you’d just run a marathon. You darted into the nearest empty room and pressed your back against the door, your mind swirling with confusion.

Am I falling for him?

You slapped a hand over your mouth, horrified by the realization. “No… no, this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I’m in love with a character from this awful, brain-numbing novel?”

You slumped against the door, groaning as the full weight of the situation sank in. How could this happen? How could my first true love— you gagged at the phrase —be from this trash novel?

There was no escaping it now. The butterflies in your stomach every time Vil looked your way, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled, the fact that you wanted nothing more than to be close to him… it was all painfully obvious.

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die of embarrassment in this ridiculous world.”

And the worst part? It wasn’t even one of the good isekai novels. You’d somehow gotten stuck in what could be considered objectively the worst one, and yet here you were, head over heels for a character who—against all odds—turned out to be the most amazing person you’d ever met.

“Oh god,” you muttered to yourself, sliding down to the floor, your head falling back against the door with a thud. “I'm in love with Vil. I’m doomed. Completely doomed.”

“Mon Dieu! What a revelation!” a voice suddenly rang out from the shadows.

You yelped, whipping around to see none other than Rook Hunt—perched in the corner of the room like some kind of overly dramatic bird of prey, his hat casting a mysterious shadow over his eyes. His entire being radiated excitement, and you swore you saw actual sparkles in the air around him.

“Rook?! How long have you been there?!”

“Long enough, my dear,” he said, voice hushed with reverence, as though you had just confessed your deepest, most tragic secret. “Ah, love! The torment, the longing! The exquisite despair you must be feeling!” He took a step forward, eyes gleaming with unbridled enthusiasm. “But fear not, mon ami, for I, Rook Hunt, shall be your faithful cupid! Together, we shall make Vil see the truth of your affections!”

You blinked, stunned. “Uh… I’m not sure that’s—"

“Ah, but you must!" Rook declared, swooping down to kneel dramatically before you. “Love, once realized, must be pursued with all one’s passion and determination! Do not let this opportunity slip through your fingers like sand in the wind! I shall assist you!”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sheer intensity of his expression made you falter. Rook was looking at you like this was the most important mission of his life.

Honestly, what did you have to lose at this point?

With a deep, exhausted sigh, you muttered, “Fine. Fine! I’ll do it. Help me, Rook.”

Rook’s grin stretched so wide it was borderline terrifying. “Excellent! This will be an adventure for the ages!” Before you could even process what you’d agreed to, Rook leaped to his feet and clapped his hands together. “But we will need more help. A certain someone with a youthful spirit and just enough mischievousness to add that je ne sais quoi to our plans.”

Oh no.

Cue Epel.

“What the hell are you ropin’ me into?” Epel grumbled as Rook dragged him into your predicament not five minutes later.

“I have volunteered you for a most noble cause, mon petit pomme,” Rook said, not even breaking stride as he swept Epel into the room. “Our dear friend here is head over heels for our Vil, and we are going to help them win his heart”

Epel paused, blinking at you in disbelief. “Wait, Vil? That Vil?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of where Vil’s office was.

“Yes, that Vil,” you said flatly, already regretting every life decision that had led you to this point.

Epel gave you a dubious look. “And you agreed to let Rook help you?”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Don’t remind me.”

“Alright, fine. I’m in.” Epel shrugged, a wicked grin creeping onto his face. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it big.”

Thus began the most absurd, over-the-top, and borderline catastrophic schemes in an attempt to prove your love to Vil Schoenheit.

It started innocently enough. You wanted to make Vil his favorite tea. Simple, right? But Rook insisted that it couldn’t just be any tea. No, it had to be presented with an air of mystery and allure.

“Bring it to him while reciting a sonnet of devotion!” Rook suggested. “Declare your admiration with each step, so that he understands the depth of your feelings!”

“I’m not reciting a sonnet, Rook.”

Epel, on the other hand, was far more pragmatic. “Or you could just… write him a note and leave it with the tea?”

That seemed normal. Rational. You’d take Epel’s advice. So, you snuck into Vil’s room, left the tea and a note on his desk, and slipped out before anyone noticed.

The next morning, Vil eyed you suspiciously over breakfast. “Did you leave tea in my study last night?”

You nodded, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but you swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch into the faintest smile. “I see. How thoughtful.”

Then came Operation: Compliment Vil at Every Opportunity.

Rook, of course, insisted you be poetic. “Tell him his beauty rivals the very stars in the sky!”

“I’m not saying that.”

Epel chimed in with a much more straightforward approach: “Just tell him his hair looks nice. It’s always nice.”

But Rook’s enthusiasm was contagious, and before you knew it, you found yourself blurting out, “Your radiance is blinding today, Vil! Truly, I must shield my eyes from such ethereal beauty!”

Vil, who had been in the middle of inspecting his reflection, froze. His eyes darted to you, and he gave you a strange look.

“Are you… feeling alright? Did you perhaps get bitten by a stray Rook?”

You shook your head vigorously, your face heating up from how ridiculous you sounded. “Totally fine! Just… appreciating your beauty! Yep. Normal stuff.”

Vil didn’t say anything, but you could see a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He looked amused—and maybe a little pleased—but more than anything, he seemed confused.

At least he didn’t think you’d lost your mind. Yet.

You were convinced this novel had it out for you from the beginning, but this? This was a new low. The memory loss trope, the final attempt to make your life as ridiculous as possible, had arrived—right on schedule.

You knew how it was supposed to go. You’d hit your head (a complete accident, obviously), wake up with no memory of Vil, and immediately make the worst decisions possible, like falling for that knockoff prince, Neige. Cue dramatic heartbreak, public humiliation, and eventual abandonment. Classic trashy novel shenanigans.

But apparently, the universe—or whatever cosmic force was in charge of your suffering—had decided to take a vacation after all the work it had been putting in. Because when you opened your eyes and saw Vil leaning over you, worry etched into his perfect face, instead of forgetting him, you were… immediately smitten?

What?

And it didn’t stop there. When he took your hand in his, gently kissing your knuckles in that heartbreakingly tender way, it was like a light switch flipped. Your memories came rushing back, completely bypassing the whole convoluted plot about amnesia and bad decisions.

Because of course in this disaster of a novel, the solution to everything was true love's kiss. The most overdone, eye-rolling cliché in the history of romance, and yet here you were, living through it.

You almost laughed out loud. Of all the tropes this novel had thrown at you—evil fiancées, jealous heroines, duels for honor—this had to be the funniest. It was as if the universe had taken one look at your situation and said, “You know what? Let’s skip the suffering and go straight to the ridiculous happy ending.”

True love’s kiss. Really. This novel is mocking me at this point, you thought, fighting the urge to scream. But hey, at least you didn’t have to deal with more drama. And as Vil’s concerned gaze softened into a relieved smile, you couldn’t help but think that, maybe, this was one trope you didn’t mind after all.

You'd almost given up on confessing. Maybe you'll just live like this forever, your fate was sealed. The novel clearly doesn't want you to tell him how you feel.

But there was another ball (because apparently that's the only place that nobility had be at in this novel. What was this? the 108th ball of the year?) You'd decided that you'll ask him for a stroll under the moonlight and just tell him.

Of course, the novel is not on your side. What's new?

The ball was going well—well, for you and Vil, anyway. You’d just finished dancing, and he looked absolutely stunning, as usual. You were basking in the afterglow of all the whispered praise and envious stares. That is, until you overheard someone bad-mouthing Vil.

Of course, it had to be the heroine’s best friend, who was apparently using this grand occasion to air her grievances.

“I just don’t understand why Vil is always so cold to her,” she whined, loud enough for everyone within a three-mile radius to hear. “She’s the saintess! She deserves kindness and adoration, not disdain.”

Cue the dramatic gasps from the crowd. Ah, here we go.

You shot Vil a look, but he merely shrugged, rolling his eyes. He clearly didn’t want to start any trouble. But you? Oh, you were about to flip the table on these idiots.

“Excuse me,” you began, stepping forward, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as you made your way over. “I couldn’t help but overhear your incredibly loud complaints about my fiancé.”

The heroine’s best friend froze, clearly not expecting you to get involved. You smiled sweetly, but your eyes were throwing daggers.

“Let me set the record straight. Vil isn’t cold to her because she’s the ‘saintess,’” you air-quoted the title, “He’s cold to her because she’s an insufferable brat who’s so used to getting her way that she throws a tantrum every time someone says ‘no.’”

More gasps from the crowd. You could see Neige stiffening across the ballroom, already sensing where this was going. But there was no stopping you now.

“And don’t get me started on you,” you pointed at the best friend, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re out here defending her honor like you’re some knight in shining armor when, let’s be real, you’re just as bad. You fawn over her like a lost puppy, expecting her to shower you with praise when all you do is enable her delusions.”

Vil, somewhere behind you, was probably trying not to laugh. But you weren't done.

“And as for your precious Neige over there?” you tilted your head toward the prince-wannabe, who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. “He’s not some perfect angel either. He’s just a guy with an unsettling talent for showing up at the most convenient times, with that same doe-eyed, clueless expression, making everyone feel sorry for him.”

You didn’t stop at Neige.

"And as for you," you said, spinning toward the brooding Duke of the North, the infamous second male lead, who had been leaning against a pillar, looking every bit the tall, tormented, handsome cliché. “You’re not fooling anyone either. You’re the king of melodramatic entrances. Always lurking in the shadows, trying to look mysterious, but really, you’re just sulking because no one’s paying attention to you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—are you brooding? Again? Let me guess, you’re thinking about some dark secret that you’ll drop at the most inconvenient moment to make things worse for everyone, right?” You mimicked his deep, serious voice. “‘It’s the burden I must bear… alone.’” You threw your head back in mock agony, hands dramatically placed on your chest.

He straightened up, clearly offended, but you didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And stop pretending like you’re some tragic hero,” you added, lowering your voice with a sharp edge. “You’re just a guy with commitment issues who sacrifices himself because you can’t handle the fact that the heroine doesn’t want you. Let it go.”

There was dead silence. You half-expected a chandelier to drop just for the dramatic effect. Even Vil had to look away for a moment, probably to hide the fact that he in tears, about to burst out laughing.

The heroine was slack-jawed, her best friend looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, and Neige… well, Neige just looked confused. As always.

Satisfied, you dusted off your hands and turned back to Vil, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and awe, as if he’d just witnessed some divine intervention.

You let out a satisfied huff and turned to leave. "Come on, Vil, I can't stand to be in the same room as these second-rate characters any longer, let's bounce"

Once outside, you saw Vil was still recovering, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think you may have traumatized half the ballroom.”

“Good,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “They deserved it. Especially that brooding Duke. ‘I sacrifice myself for the greater good.’ Ugh, give me a break.”

Vil chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. "Still, you didn’t have to go to such lengths for me."

You stopped in your tracks, spun around, and looked him dead in the eye. “Of course I did! I love you, Vil. I couldn’t just sit there and let them trash you like that.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. Oh. Well. There it was.

Vil’s eyes widened, a rare, unguarded expression crossing his face. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in your words. Then, without a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, soft but sure, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had.

When he pulled back, his smile was the softest you’d ever seen. “You love me,” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, a bit breathless from both the confession and the kiss. “Yes, Vil. I love you. Even with all your ridiculously high standards and obsession with skincare.”

Vil laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Vil pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your waist, and asked with a quiet, almost teasing tone, "Well then, since you love me so much... should we get married?"

You blinked, your brain taking a second to catch up. "Wait—what? Married? Like, right now?" You stared at him, heart racing, before suddenly, an idea lit up your face like a firework. “Oh my god, yes! Let’s do it. Let’s get married ASAP. Like, today. Right now. Do we even need a ceremony? We can find an officiant and—boom—done. Just tell me where to sign!”

Vil’s eyes widened, taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm. “Are you… serious?”

You grabbed his hand, absolutely buzzing with energy. “Of course, I’m serious! Why wait? This dumbass universe keeps throwing garbage tropes at us, and honestly? Getting married right now is the perfect way to flip the script! Take that, fate!"

Before Vil could respond, an overly excited voice erupted from behind a nearby pillar. “Oh là là! Mon cœur can hardly handle this romance!” Rook leaped out from the shadows, practically sparkling with joy, as if he had been waiting for this very moment all his life. "The passion! The declaration of love! And now, a spontaneous wedding? Magnifique!”

“Rook!?” Vil’s voice was a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Have you been spying on us?”

“Spying?” Rook gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Non, non, Vil! I was merely ensuring your well-being as any devoted friend would!” He gave a wink, clearly pleased with his role as an unintended audience.

“Me too!” Epel poked his head out from behind another pillar, grinning sheepishly. “I mean, who’d wanna miss out on somethin’ like this? Y’all are gettin’ married!”

Vil let out a long, tired sigh, but you could see the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered.

“Oh, it’s happening,” you said, grabbing his arm again and dragging him forward. “We’re doing this, and it’s going to be the best wedding in this entire stupid book, Rook, Epel, you’re both invited. Wait, scratch that, you’re both in the wedding party now!”

“C’est incroyable!” Rook twirled dramatically, hands clasped together, already imagining his outfit for the occasion. “I shall be the most loyal and stylish groomsman! Oh, l’amour!”

“And I get to wear somethin’ fancy, right?” Epel asked, already envisioning something much cooler than his usual attire.

Vil was now fully grinning, his initial surprise turning into genuine amusement as he looked at you with sparkling eyes. “You really are something else.”

“Yeah, and now I’m gonna be your something else forever.” You beamed up at him, still holding onto his hand like you might drag him to the altar yourself right now.

“Well then,” Vil sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Let’s get married.”

Before you could even start plotting where to drag Vil to find someone to officiate, Rook suddenly gasped, clasping his hands together dramatically. "Mon dieu! How could I forget? I am more than prepared for this moment!"

You and Vil exchanged puzzled looks. "What are you talking about, Rook?" Vil asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Rook grinned, remviong his hat and and dramatically pulling out a folded piece of parchment. "Behold!" he announced, waving the paper with a flourish. "A certified license to officiate weddings. I took the liberty of acquiring it long ago, knowing that one day I’d be the one to unite you and your beloved. C’est le destin!"

“You’re… licensed?” Vil blinked, looking at Rook like he had officially lost it. "And you're walking around with the license in your hat?"

Rook nodded with a dazzling smile. “Why yes, I’ve been preparing for this glorious day! Every flower petal, every gust of wind, every glance of love I’ve witnessed between you both has been leading to this fated moment!” He struck a pose, the parchment still dramatically held aloft.

You stared at him, then back at Vil. "Okay, I know this is ridiculous, but honestly? This is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, and I kind of love it. Let's just let him do it."

Vil put a hand to his forehead, trying to suppress a chuckle. "Are we really doing this?"

“Yes!” you declared, squeezing Vil's hand. “If we’re going full chaos, we’re going all the way. Rook, officiate the hell out of this wedding!”

Epel, watching the entire spectacle, burst into laughter. “Only in this house, I swear…”

Rook practically sparkled with joy, bouncing on his feet. “Oh là là, it will be my greatest honor! I’ve been rehearsing my officiating speech in front of the mirror for months”

“Months?” Vil repeated, a mix of disbelief and exasperation in his tone.

“Mais oui! Every day, I’d wake up and say, ‘Today could be the day!’” Rook sighed dramatically, already tearing up. “And here we are. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Now, shall we begin? I have the vows prepared, unless you have your own?”

You leaned into Vil, barely holding back laughter. “I have zero regrets about this. Absolutely zero.”

Vil sighed again but couldn’t stop smiling. “Only you could make something this absurd seem perfect.”

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Okay, this became way longer than I expected it to be but to be fair, i was on an extreme caffeine high and i'd just finished an assignment that had been beating my ass

also sorry for the neige slander, I don't hate him but vdc broke me

3K notes · View notes

deadlockfae · 6 months ago

Text

Pairing: Fyodor x reader

Contents: NSFW, sub!fyodor, fingering, (fyodor receiving, he's in for a fun night ngl), masturbation, fyodor agreeing to doing whatever reader asks of him and dealing with it, gentle domming him, Approx. 2.9k. words of filth. my bad

Fyodor was a man of subtle power.

Not the loud, demanding attention type. No, it was a quiet, calm thing. The art of reading your associates first, and then ever so gently guiding them exactly in the direction you wanted.

All the while letting them believe they pulled the strings.

You pondered over that yourself; teasing the line between all those illusions.

Even now, eyes fully drawn to the man before you, his slender form kneeling patiently at your feet. The familiar smile of easy confidence graced his features as he gazed at you through dark locks of hair.

Fyodor was beautiful. You couldn’t deny that. More so with every second that passed. Your mind lagged. You could hardly believe he of all people would agree to a proposition you had only offered half as a joke, half an idea too appetising to regard possible.

“Well?” he asked, smile barely obscuring the amusement he certainly felt.

He was in control even now, it was more than obvious. The thought of that drew forth a slight annoyance in you, the need to fight back increasing. To see how far you could push him before Fyodor’s grip crumbled away–willingly… or not.

“You will do anything I ask of you? Doesn’t sound like you.”

Fyodor shrugged, observing you carefully. “As long as you ask it of me. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

You considered him. “It is, yes,” you said, voice calm as you tried to keep your excitement under reins.

“Then I don’t mind at all.”

There it was again, that lazy, upward tilt of his lips. Like he’s done this a hundred times, not a sweat on his brow. You only wanted to ruin him even more.

You took a step forward, standing right before him. Cupping Fyodor’s chin to have him look up to you sent a shiver down your spine, enjoying the readiness with which he leaned into the touch.

Fyodor’s eyes never left yours. Not urging, definitely not. But maybe curious? You bumped his thigh with a foot, drawing his attention downwards.

“I think…” you began, stifling your nerves down. “...you should open your legs a bit more.”

“Oh?” A quiet moment and then Fyodor’s thighs spread, cloth dragging against carpet the only audible sound in the room. “I will admit you’re being very timid about this. Interesting.”

“You don’t want me to be?” you asked. His eyes had a dark tint to them, heavy lashes fluttering as you locked gazes. He looked almost dangerous.

“It was only an observation, dear.”

It was, yes. Fyodor really liked observing people alright. That’s why it was so hard to get a read on him too, his guards so high up you doubted even he remembered to check in on his own feelings.

It… was an interesting thought. One that needed more attention, yes. Certainly.

“Alright then,” you said, weighing your words carefully. “You know, I want to do the observations for this night, actually.”

“I will be on display as best as I can.”

Perfect. “Okay. Then start by touching yourself.”

Short, simple, and direct. It worked wonders as Fyodor complied, leaning back from your touch to work on his trousers, his soft pretty cock free in his hand a moment later. His face turned to the side, eyes falling close as he concentrated.

He made it look like a private moment, not even glancing at you as he slowly stroked himself into hardness. He was deathly quiet, not unlike his usual behaviour in the slightest. It was like having a window into something forbidden, and the way he tried to keep his breathing smooth, unbothered–it all brought a sad, knowing smile to your face.

You knew what to expect. For all his unpredictability in life, Fyodor was a rather collected man–at least when it came to your sex life. That’s why it was so important that he agreed to this. Seeing more was an idea that crawled around in your mind for long, waiting for the opportunity.

Sometimes you just had to push a bit, see what happens.

You reached out, hand stroking Fyodor’s hair. You didn’t make him turn back to you. Instead, you merely said, “Faster.”

Fyodor’s brows furrowed. A moment later and his breath caught slightly, his hand moving in rapid strokes over his cock. You never stopped caressing his hair, hoping he felt the gesture encouraging.

He’d definitely need that for what was to come.

“Fyodor?” you began, heart thumping.

His eyes fluttered open, gaze hooded as he looked up at you. “Yes, dear?”

Your hand found his lips again, tracing his cupid’s bow. He had such a lovely voice…

“I want to hear you,” you said. “I think you’d sound really prettily. Will you do that for me?”

Fyodor blinked, his hand losing its momentum for a second. It was like seeing a quick slip of inner uncertainty, only to be masked back under a carefree tilt of his head.

“Gladly,” Fyodor said, laughing lightly before kissing the fingers that caressed him. “Although I doubt it’d be much to listen to, but I appreciate your kind words.”

You didn’t comment on that, opting to settle in comfortably into the silence that followed. If it was patience he wanted–he would get it. Fyodor kept his gaze on you for a few moments longer before violet eyes fell shut again.

He built up his pleasure slowly, tilting to the side just enough to give you a better view of his work. Fyodor’s hand languidly stoked up and down his shaft, his grip firm as droplets of precum trailed over his knuckles. The curse of having such pale skin was how easily it flushed, and Fyodor’s was no exception. With cheeks catching colour right before you, you doubted it would be any different down his chest too. His shirt skillfully obscured the rest of him though, an obstacle that demanded your prompt attention.

“Keep going,” you said as you knelt beside him, drawing his curious gaze to your swift fingers. His shirt came undone in seconds, a shared look of amusement between you.

“Still quiet for me?” you asked, breath ghosting over his collarbone. “If you need encouragement you could always ask.”

Fyodor hummed. His movements were becoming sloppier, but he kept his voice relaxed as he said, “Very generous of you. Was undressing me one of them by chance?”

You bit at his flushed skin playfully. “Yes.”

He only sighed in response, leaning into you. Fyodor’s skin was meant to be kissed, even if he rarely agreed with your words. The idea was foreign to him, and having a lover even more so.

He never struck you as the type to delve into any romantic endeavours. Yet here you were. With him, pulling at his hair until your lips crashed into his, tongue already prying them open. Patience be damned. You held him in place, deepening the kiss until you were both panting, saliva trailing down Fyodor’s chin as the sound of your tongues moving against each other made more heat pool between your thighs.

You could feel Fyodor’s muscles straining, his belly twitching as his pleasure built. You pushed him back, letting him lay on the floor beneath you. His eyes were lidded, gaze going distant as he struggled to keep his focus.

He was so pretty like this. His hair fell messy around him, mouth barely open as he breathed soundlessly.

What a beautiful liar he was.

It’s of no matter though. You would gladly help him with that.

You did not touch his pretty cock though. No, all your attention was directed to him, his soft lips, his exposed chest that shuddered every time you ghosted your touch down to his soft belly, his nipples hardening under your fingers as you drew your attention back up. Pulling his pants completely off was even easier, Fyodor barely sparing them a glance as he drew you back against him a moment later.

Good.

Completely exposed, and relaxed. What a sight he was, lying there under you.

It made it easier to reach in your back pocket, an idea already forming in your mind. You were prepared for a night like this–never gladder for it as you pried open the small bottle of lube, hand slicked a moment later as it wrapped around the base of Fyodor’s cock.

He stilled against you, lips slightly parted as his breath ghosted over your lips. He liked it slow usually, so you gave a few experimental strokes, letting him feel your every move. Your nose brushed against Fyodor’s, and you smiled when he barely made a move, his eyes still closed.

“Just giving a helping hand,” you whispered against him.

Fyodor chuckled, the sound of it quiet. “Very kind of you,” he breathed.

And it wasn’t like you lied. You gave him your attention for a while, letting him melt against you. You nudged his legs wider, hooking one over to the side. Fyodor went along, even letting you bite into his lower lip –a partial distraction you could say–and your hand loosened around him to trail down lower…

Fyodor pulled back just as your fingers found his entrance, his gaze blank as it locked into yours.

You raised a brow but didn’t stop massaging the spot gently. You expected a reaction from him, of course. You’ve never done this before, and Fyodor hardly struck you as the type to suggest this himself, so you let your curiosity guide you through, uncertainty be damned.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” you said, observing intently for anything. Fyodor was a hard man to read after all.

Fyodor was silent, more so than usual. He was so quick to decide on things, predicting the outcome almost always. But he didn’t do that now. He only considered you before sighing.

He didn’t look at you as he said, “If it is what you wish.”

Your brows knitted. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“How would you like me to say it?”

“I prefer a “yes” or “no” answer actually. Big boys know those words.”

Fyodor only hummed, which served more to annoy you. You flicked him on the forehead, drawing a quiet complaint as he quickly caught your hand in his.

“I mean it!” you said, looking at Fyodor with all the seriousness you could muster. “I’m stopping everything right now if you don’t talk normally. Talk to me.”

You pulled Fyodor’s face to yours, waiting. He could play his games all he wanted with the rest, but not you. You couldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

“Alright,” Fyodor said. He looked up at the ceiling, expression unreadable. “I… don’t mind. I am not sure, to be sincere. I don’t think I will enjoy it, but I am willing to try for you… There, how is that for my thoughts?”

You pursed your lips. At least he was honest. “You would like to try?”

“Yes.”

“And you will stop me if it doesn’t go as you like?”

Fyodor hummed. “Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to see if he was bullshiting again. “...fine. But I’m filing for a pinky promise on this one. Pray to God if you lie, you loser.”

“Sure.” And he gave you a chaste kiss, his gaze gentle as he pulled back. He made it so easy to forgive when he was like this. All soft and lovely as you captured Fyodor’s lips again, savouring every second of it.

It didn’t take long to get back on track. He was already hard so that made it easier; let him lose himself in pleasure as you played with his entrance until he got accustomed to the feeling of your fingers against his skin.

The first finger was hard, Fyodor tensing automatically. He felt warm, too tight for comfort at first. You trailed kisses down his jaw and neck until your finger moved with ease, pumping in and out of his hole as he gradually got accustomed to the stretch. Fyodor was breathing hard and harder, his fist firm around his cock even if he barely moved it.

He was doing really well. You made sure he knew that, your words whispered against his ear with every stroke of your finger inside him. Fyodor could only look at the ceiling, gaze unfocused.

But it’s what happened after you added the second that you’d never forget.

Fyodor winced at first, falling quiet again as you raised his leg higher for a better angle. You didn’t want to go fast, letting him ease into it slowly.

…but then you curled your fingers just right, and Fyodor’s entire body seized, eyes blowing wide as his breath hitched.

You froze, fingers not moving as you looked Fyodor’s face for signs of pain. “Are you okay?”

He looked at you then, eyes blinking as he swallowed. There was… there was no pain there. It was something else.

You’ve seen that face before. Maybe. Not on Fyodor at least. You held his gaze, the corner of your lips lifting. “Oh, my.”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer as you moved your fingers against his prostate, maintaining a steady rhythm as Fyodor’s head fell back, neck beautifully exposed.

The low, guttural moan that left Fyodor’s lips was downright lewd. Your mouth almost fell open. You’ve never heard him do that. And it was getting worse; every thrust forcing out a quiet sound of pleasure that barely got stifled by Fyodor’s pursed lips. Covering his mouth didn’t help either, it only served to pool more heat between your legs, the sight of him like this making you throb with want even more.

“Wow,” you said stupidly.

“Don’t–” Fyodor began, only to lose that thought just as fast. You smiled. The lube made it so easy now, your fingers moving fast and merciless as he clutched around them, the action seeming unconscious.

Fyodor kept seeking your touch, your lips– the kisses heated and messy only to pull back from you a moment later, breathing hard as he covered his eyes with a hand. It’s like he couldn’t make up his mind, the view of it almost too cute if it weren’t for how fast he stroked himself, precum sliding all over his fist.

“I’ve got you.” You held Fyodor close, letting him whimper against your mouth. You swallowed every pretty sound he made. “Will you cum for me? Pretty please?” you whispered against his ear, kissing the sensitive skin there.

Fyodor groaned, covering his flushed face with a hand. “You’re… enjoying this a little too much, dear.”

“My bad.” You bit at his earlobe, tongue trailing up its side and his eyes fluttered close.

He was close, his fist barely maintaining a steady rhythm. As much as you loved to shower him with kisses, watching him stroke himself as your fingers moved inside him was a whole new experience, and it needed your attention. He was completely at your mercy, a mess–his hair soaked and sticking to his forehead, belly twitching from the strain even as his hips bucked against you, seeking more. Desperate was a good look on Fyodor.

“You’re so pretty like this, you know that?” you said.

“Mhm,” he said, but it didn’t seem like he listened to you.

You pulled your fingers out, only to add a third as you kissed Fyodor breathless. You stifled his moans as your hand moved, fingers curving against his prostate with every stroke. The stretch was there but Fyodor barely noticed, moving against you as his orgasm neared.

“Come on, for me?” you whispered against his lips, feeling his breath hitch. You fucked Fyodor all the way through his orgasm, not stopping your fingers even as his thighs shuddered, his spend spilling over his knuckles to trail down his belly. He was trembling all over, eyes tight shut as he gradually came down from the high.

You pulled your fingers out eventually, Fyodor wincing before going limp beside you. You gave him some time to gather himself, brushing his hair away from his temple as he sighed contently.

“Thank you,” he said at last, the words sounding rough.

You laughed. “Wasn’t expecting a thank you after this.”

“I wasn’t either, but here we are.” He smiled lightly.

“Does that maybe mean… I might get a chance for a second thank you?”

You laughed even harder at the strained look on Fyodor’s face, even as he masked it behind a forced smile. “Well…”

“No. No no, it’s okay. God, you’re so cute. I’m not that mean, come on,” you said, eyes filled with fondness.

“Just making sure,” Fyodor said, turning for a kiss to your temple before his voice became gentle. “But not soon. I have work to deal with, unfortunately. At some point in the future.”

You trailed your fingers down Fyodor’s jaw, considering. Getting closer to him wasn’t easy, but seeing him like this now proved how much it was worth it. Maybe he’d trust you enough with time, be more open…

He was always too focused on what needed to be done; a workaholic at heart. Unfortunately for both of you. “I could help with that?” He didn’t say much about his upcoming deal, but you doubted it was something out of your capabilities. So long as you could ease his burden.

Fyodor smiled, pulling your hand for a kiss. “That would be too kind of you,” he said, voice seeped with honey.

You nodded, keeping your smile in place even as you felt… something. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the feeling settled in your chest, making you uncomfortable in a confusing kind of way.

You forced it aside, focusing on Fyodor’s thumb as it stroked gently at your cheek. “Of course,” you said, sighing against his touch.

You could hardly believe this happened. Better enjoy the small miracles than ponder over things. Fyodor was here with you, you’d figure it out eventually.

272 notes · View notes