#(though some i did reach out to or have some form of relationship with)

[daistea]

Might I… request a fic about Kabru and Mithrun (respectively) encountering a succubus that appeals to them by taking on the form of the reader. While the reader is standing Right There

oh my goodness this was so fun for me. However, it was only after I finished writing it that I realized what 'respectively' implied. So this did not happen respectively, I'm sorry. I think it's funnier this way, though, if that's any solace.

If you still want this prompt done for them both separately, then let me know and I'll be happy to do that!

Mithrun x Reader x Kabru (not a love triangle, no established relationship)

2000 words!

no tw except for a very mild implication

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The first sign of danger was the cloying, saccharine smell that consumed every inch of the room. It was as if the air had been replaced with pure perfume created to appeal to a specific victim. 

Kabru’s eyes fluttered as he recognized the scent of Utaya’s fields, especially the moments when the breeze would roll across the wheat and envelop him in a warm hug. Then, there was the hint of Milsiril’s kitchen, which wasn’t a scent he would usually describe as appealing. Yet, it sunk into his skin and made his heart clench.

To Mithrun, the petrichor was faint, but recognizable. It was just a hint in the back of his mind, bringing up a split second memory of the rainy, rolling green hills of the Northern Central Continent. Since the demon, though, he’d never been particularly sentimental of his home. As if the source of the scent read his mind and realized that, the perfume in the air gently switched to something savory, like elf cake. He didn’t care about that either. Again, the scent switched to wildflowers. He didn’t care about that either. And once more—

Succubi were so annoying, so invasive. Mithrun sighed and nudged Kabru with his elbow, “There’s monsters nearby.”

Kabru caught on almost immediately, “Succubi?” Without waiting for an answer, he glanced over his shoulder at you, of all people. His expressions weren’t as well-guarded when with you and Mithrun, and the Captain recognized the concern that flickered over his face. Mithrun’s hand twitched with the urge to grab Kabru by the hair and redirect his stare elsewhere, perhaps onto the life-sucking mosquito monsters that were slowly approaching from the shadows. 

The dungeon was a collapsed ruin, but still traversable to those determined enough. You had insisted on coming with Mithrun on one of his regular explorations of the ruins. Once Kabru had discovered that you were going with Mithrun, he insisted upon coming along as well despite his obvious distaste for the place. There was some deeper reasoning behind his decision, Mithrun knew. Whether or not you knew that, though, remained to be seen. 

There was rubble in the corners and moss growing between the cracks in the stones. One wrong step and the ceiling could easily fall. It was wise to have more than one person when encountering a succubi, yet all the times Mithrun had encountered them in the past had ended up in his favor. The succubi didn’t quite know what to do with him. He cast you and Kabru a wary glance, though— you two were far more susceptible. 

“Just stay close,” Kabru said as he took a careful step forward. He reached out a hand behind him, grabbing for your wrist. You let him take your arm, and Mithrun felt his shoulders tense. 

“The wisest thing to do would be to cover your eyes,” Mithrun mused. As he spoke, he took your other hand. In response to that, Kabru released your wrist and also held your hand. For a moment, you felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war. It wasn’t the worst feeling, but perhaps one of the most confusing. 

Mithrun and Kabru led you through the ruined room. The shadows were thick and alive with the scuffling of feet, the brushing of wings against the wall. Kabru did his best to hide his concern, but his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed down whatever he was feeling. A quick glance at Mithrun confirmed that the Captain was not at all bothered by the cloying scent of succubi, their calling card and greeting. They could strike at any moment, yet he remained calm. 

“It will be fine,” Mithrun’s voice cut through the tension, “just close your eyes.”

Kabru sent him a look over his shoulder, “‘It’ll be fine’ is easy for you to say, Captain.”

“It is, the succubi have never really known what to make of me.”

You imagined a life-sucking, giant mosquito monster just staring at Mithrun as it tried to process what it was seeing. Yet, just the other day, Mithrun had expressed a small desire for a specific dish. 

You snorted, “Your desires are coming back, though. You never know, it may take the form of an unseasoned elf casserole.”

Kabru put up a gloved hand to stifle his laugh, “Yeah, with boiled chicken and white rice without an ounce of salt.”

You could practically feel the heat of Mithrun’s stare on the back of your neck. “Elven cuisine is an acquired taste.”

“As in… once you actually acquire taste, you’ll move onto much better food?” You asked. 

You would’ve liked to share a high-five with Kabru over that one, but the familiar buzz of a mosquito interrupted the laughter. The three of you froze as a flicker of mana filled the air. Mithrun didn’t seem worried, this succubi obviously wasn’t for him, but—

Kabru put out an arm in front of you as if to shield you from… yourself. 

An exact copy of you stepped out of the shadows. Its eyes were wide with a look that could only be described as desperate desire. Its cheeks were flushed and brows furrowed, every ounce of attention focused precisely on Kabru. 

Both you and Mithrun looked at him. 

Kabru cleared his throat and looked away. The red on the tips of his ears was undeniable. 

How were you supposed to feel about that? Flattered? There was some flattery in it, though it was mixed with mild horror at the absolutely breathless and desperate version of yourself that he apparently desired. Was that what you looked like? You were sure you never made a face like that. (You did, last week when Melini had a heatwave and Kabru had fetched you a glass of water. The memory haunted him.)

To your right, Mithrun raised a shaking hand. His shoulders trembled a little and he closed his eyes. His brows furrowed as he exhaled shakily. He looked as if he was only held together by a thin piece of string and a wad of chewing gum. The sight made your heart skip a beat in panic until you noticed the slight twitch of his lips. 

He was trying not to laugh. 

You choked on air. Kabru also choked on air, but for a very different reason. The succubus copy of you slowly sauntered toward him– you do not saunter like that, you would never saunter in such a manner, with that hungry look in your eyes and your lips parted ever so slightly. Horrifying. But like all good horrifying things, it also made you want to kneel over and start laughing until your stomach hurt. 

“Kabru,” you gasped, barely holding yourself together, “You—”

“Shut up!” He snapped as he took several steps back, “Don’t overthink it! It’s nothing! It’s–”

Mithrun interrupted with a heavy, resigned sigh. He took a casual step forward and touched the succubus version of you on the shoulder. Its eyes widened and it tensed, but before it could react, it was gone. You were pretty sure he teleported it into a nearby wall, judging by the muffled, strangled hisses coming from nearby. 

Kabru was still red, “I can explain.”

“I don’t think that requires an explanation,” Mithrun said flatly. 

“You know what?” He glared, “Not everybody can be as unaffected as y—”

Another buzz, another footstep on the stone floor. The three of you froze once more as another succubus stepped out of the shadows. 

It was also you. 

Fortunately, this version of you was much less desperate. Yet there was something about it that reminded you of a painting in a cathedral. Perhaps it was the look in its familiar eyes, the sheer love and affection it held as it stared at Mithrun as if he was the only person who ever existed. 

“That’s not mine,” Kabru said.

And it obviously wasn’t yours. Both you and Kabru looked at Mithrun. 

The Captain was tense, his body taut like the string of a bow. His fingers twitched at his sides as he stared at the succubus. His good eye was wide and he kept blinking as if that might help clarify the existence of a version of you that looked at him so adoringly. 

He schooled his expression and casually pointed at the love-struck succubus, “That’s not mine.”

“Of course it’s yours!” Kabru snapped, “Who else’s could it be?!”

Mithrun only shrugged. The soft tinge of pink on his cheeks betrayed his feelings. 

Once again, you were at a loss of what to think. It was sweet. Your heart fluttered and emotion filled your throat. Yet, did he truly desire for you to look at him like that? Did he lie awake at night, wondering what it would feel like to have every ounce of your attention on him, to value him so dearly that you were incapable of seeing anyone else? The very idea knocked the breath from your lungs. 

Except, Kabru ran a sword through the adoring, angelic version of you, and the mosquito monster screeched in a very not-you way. Mithrun only grimaced and chose to stare at the wall instead.

“Okay, so hopefully that’s the last of them,” you said. Your cheeks felt very warm. Kabru and Mithrun both desired you, though in different ways. You didn’t think that was possible. There was nothing more you wanted to do at that moment than run and hide and mull over possible explanations for what you’d just seen.

“Wait,” Mithrun stretched out an arm in front of you, “there’s one more.”

Despite his serious tone, awkwardness permeated the air. You were practically choking on it, unable to breathe normally because all your body could process was sheer embarrassment. Kabru’s ears were red. Mithrun looked more dead inside than usual. None of you would meet each other’s eyes. 

The last succubus stepped out of the shadow. First, you saw a brown boot, then a familiar hand, then a familiar face. 

You gasped, holding your chest as if afraid that your heart might burst through your skin. “I-It’s you…”

Mithrun and Kabru both looked at you. “It’s…” Mithrun couldn’t finish his sentence. 

But Kabru could, “Your biggest desire is… The meat pie vendor who sets up shop on the corner on Thursdays?!”

He said it as if that was a bad thing. 

The meat pie vendor smiled seductively and held out a fresh, steaming hot meat pie. You took a step forward, your hand trembling as you reached for the treat. 

“You don’t even want him romantically!” Kabru yelled, “You just want him to give you food!”

Once again, he said it as if that was a bad thing. 

Before your hand could brush along the flaky, warm exterior of the meat pie, Kabru pulled out his sword. Mithrun grabbed a broken piece of wood from the ground. It happened too quickly. There was no time to defend your desire. You gasped as the sword ran through the beloved meat pie vendor’s stomach, and as the wood was teleported through his neck. With an inhuman screech, the succubus collapsed to the floor. 

Your friends, who wanted you, had just killed the one thing you wanted… Your heart was torn in two. 

It was a complete mystery why both Mithrun and Kabru stormed out of the dungeon without saying one word to you. You were the one that should’ve been mad. 

Still, as you took Kabru’s hand in your left and Mithrun’s in your right, they both gave your fingers a light squeeze. 

Still, “We’re never doing this again,” Kabru said. 

Mithrun nodded. You grimaced. And none of you ever spoke of it again. 

[poomphuripan]

Director Pepzi Banchorn Vorasataree - iQIYI Exclusive Interview Transcript

[What makes 'My Stand-In' special?]

Pepzi: The uniqueness of this series lies in my perspective of it being a youth drama. However, it's the kind of youth drama that's like... So typically youth dramas should be bright, simple and straightforward right? But this youth series has real drama and delves into the intricacies of life and emotions. It has these life stories that makes me feel like... Like about a painful youth which makes me think that having a series like this would be very interesting. Because the series not only portrays the mundane aspects of life but also adds a touch of fantasy, not in the sense of envisioning a futuristic fantasy, but rather, revolving around life's themes. I find these elements fascinating.

[What are some challenges you face as Thailand's first female Y Series (LGBTQIA+ series) director?]

Pepzi: Some refer to me as the "mother of LGBTQIA+ dramas," but not for any specific reason though but it's because I'm the only few [female directors]. Everyone else is typically called something like "father of...". With a BL series foundation, people often express delight in the fact that I make Y series, that I understand the NC scenes, and grasp the dynamics and critical scenes between same-sex characters. However, I'd like to emphasize that, my starting point/intention is that I always love to direct a love story, whether it involves same-sex or other relationships, the base of it has to be a love story. I believe that, once we have understood love, whether it's BL with men loving men or women loving women or men loving women, ultimately, they all share the same foundation being love stories [regardless of gender]. As long as we understand love enough, and perhaps it's also because of my age [re: personal experiences], I have seen been able to see various forms of love, which have evolved over different stages of my life. Therefore, to me, directing LGBTQ+ dramas is just like directing another form of love story. Each of my works revolves around love. Thus, I don't differentiate between whether it's a Y series or not.

[Why did you decide to direct "Stand-in"?]

Pepzi: The opportunity to direct "My Stand-In" arose when I met Ms. Yuan, (the CEO) of YYDS. YYDS wanted me... so they initially reached out to me, however, at that time, I was quite exhausted and looking forward to taking a break. Cause like your body/health after working on four, five series... Actually during the pandemic, I had been involved in numerous projects without any rest or travel. Until one day, I decided to take a break. I rested for several months without working, without taking on any new works. Then when Yuan contacted me again, I even told her I would only consider it after hearing the plot. I was planning to decline if it didn't pique my interest. Because I'm at that age where I should just rest. Later, I told her I wanted to meet and see the content. Ultimately, when we met and Yuan showed me the Chinese script translated in Thai, I realized it was a really interesting/fun story. The storyline was so compelling that it drew me, someone who was on a break, back to work. At that point, I had only read the plot. It wasn't until later that I found out it was based on a popular Chinese novel with millions of views. Honestly, while reading the novel, I found the storyline truly remarkable and felt compelled to direct it. It was only later that I learned about its background story and the powerful narrative it held.

[What gives you confidence in this series?]

Pepzi: First, upon receiving the plot, I thought the original Chinese version was so good. But I knew we would have to adapt storyline to make a Thai version (re:suit the Thai audience), and we had a conversation with the Chinese scriptwriters right at the beginning to ask for permission in order to make adjustments if they wanted me to make this. If they wanted me to direct, they had to trust my abilities, choices, and decisions. We had to localize the storyline to fit the Thai context. Eventually, after discussions with the original Chinese author (Shui Qian Cheng), who agreed to the adaptation adjustments, we moved forward. Every time we make a change, we would thoroughly discussed between both parties. I felt that the fact that everything proceeded smoothly from the outset was an excellent sign. Plus, being given the freedom to select the cast based on my aesthetic preferences or the vibes of the series was empowering. However, every decision I made was preceded by discussions with the team so it felt like this drama is good in all aspects. I believe that this is a BL or Y series where we really chose the main characters based on the storyline. Meaning, we looked for actors suitable for the roles according to the plot, and the result turned out great, just like it is now.

[What are the differences between the TV series and the novel?]

Pepzi: The structure is similar, but we made some changes to the context to make it more suitable for a Thai audience. It's not just about incorporating into Thai culture, but including the lifestyle or the way Thai people think and live. Because ultimately, this is a Thai series with the kind of plot geared towards a Thai audience so we believe that most of the viewers will be Thai. But we also trust that the Thai people perspectives can resonate globally. Changes can be made, but we aim to preserve the fundamental cultural aspects of Thailand.

[How is the director's job, and what's special about it?]

Pepzi: One aspect we paid particular attention to is the action scenes. While I can direct action scenes, some crucial segments required additional assistance to help me make those scenes look cool/badass. And the person who can make [those action scenes] look cool/badass is THE Kongkiat Komesiri, or P'Khom. I've known Kongkiat for a long time, over ten years. Kongkiat offered to help designing some action scenes or pivotal moments in the series. In this series, there's also a crew that many others may not know much about but it's the stunt crew team. For the stunt team of this series, Ja is responsible for/lead of the crew. P'Ja is Jeeja Yanin, I don't know if we're born in the same year (re: if we're the same age) or not. P'Ja came to help oversee our stunt, action and fight sequences and even the training of the actors. Since this series is related to stunt doubles, we aimed to gather the most talented individuals in every aspect within our capabilities. So I feel like everyone involved that we've been able to gather are people who are skilled in their respective fields. From my perspective, I've already done my best and everyone else also brings their best. So I feel like the entire team is... If it's someone in the production industry, they'd know that to be able to do that is pretty amazing.

[Why must it be Up and Poom?]

Pepzi: Why Up and Poom? Initially, we were looking for Ming and Joe. We had to find Ming and Joe. After an analysis, we found it quite challenging. So, we started with Joe. Joe's character is a stunt double, the top one in Thai martial arts dramas. He had to be handsome because he would be doubling for the hottest stars, and his acting skills needed to be top-notch. He also had to convey emotions well and be disciplined. We were searching very hard. In the end, nearly 400 actors wanted to play Joe. And I was the person who watched everyone who auditioned. We auditioned everyone, then matched and paired them up until we finally found that... we chose Up and we chose Poom. And I dare say here that on the day we made our decision, Poom wasn't necessarily the actor with best acting skill among the 400. But for me, Poom is the person who resembled Joe the most. After selecting Poom, I told him to put in more effort. I felt like I really hoped the audience would give him a chance. He wasn't someone with prior fame or popularity, but Poom is a talented actor. Because Poom had really stepped into the role/embodied his role as Joe and that Joe is the most perfect version of Joe for me.

As for Up, once we found our Joe... Actually we found our Ming first but Ming was even harder to find than Joe because he had to be born into wealth, things which we couldn't fabricate. Right? Moreover, he had to be a skilled actor because he needed to portray depth. As a top executive of a company, who had to be secretly in love with someone, someone his sister loves, and he had to back off. Then, he accidentally falls for someone else. That accidental entanglement turns out to the biggest true love of his life. We auditioned numerous people, including celebrities. Many, many people. Ultimately, it was a gut feeling, perhaps intuition? I really saw shades of Ming in Up. They resembled each other. And then Up actually came to audition. But I'm very grateful to Yuan because one day Yuan went to talk to Up saying that Pepzi's simple request was for Up to come for an audition because I wanted to see if Up was really (suitable for) that character. So Up really came to the audition. It was the first tape audition, then finally, we started looking for someone who could pair well with Up. And it took many steps before Up and Poom became our Ming and Joe.

[What do actors need to prepare to become their characters?]

Pepzi: Mostly, it was a LOT workshops but there's also many types of workshops and we have to differentiate between them. So especially for Poom, there were many workshops. We'd have a regular acting workshop, like an acting workshop between Up and Poom for them to work on their emotional scenes together. But Poom also has a separate workshop to handle stunt sequences due to his character's profession as a stunt double. Poom really had a lot of these action workshops and he worked diligently in all of them. His positions/stunt sequences he showed were really good. Shoutout to the instructors and the crew of P'Jeeja for this. Additionally, there's one last workshop and it's the intemacy workshop for the intimate scenes. Ultimately, despite containing mature content, the foundation of these scenes is love. Both actors trusted us, and we conducted rehearsals for intimate scenes beforehand. We're thankful for their cooperation and trust, and their compatibility was evident from the first shoot. This series is filled with love, not lust, but love. That's why there were those scenes. Yea, so much thanks to them.

[From day one to today, what have you seen in the actors?]

Pepzi: I've been able to witness their development as actors when they're playing these characters. Like I've said previously, we chose them because we saw Ming and Joe in them. But as they continued to portray the roles, I dare say that they are truly the actual Ming and Joe. They are the reason why I need to thank God even more for validating our decision that day. Because from what they've shown us, our decision that day was correct and it's becoming more apparent. And one more thing, I want to thank these two people for really embodying their characters and putting in immense effort to get into these roles. This is the transformation we've seen. They not only improved as actors but also became the characters themselves, like embodying their essence.

[Are you satisfied with the work after months of filming?]

Pepzi: To be honest, just like the audience, I'm eager to see it. However, we know the storyline because we're the ones arranging the plot's sequence, and I'm also responsible for editing in the post-production phase. Honestly, if I may say so without sounding conceited, I believe I gave it my all. Everyone worked diligently, and while it may not be 100% perfect for others, for us, bringing together everyone's strengths, we're not ashamed to say and we're always ready for others to see and critique.

[What were the difficulties in making this series?]

Pepzi: The difficulty was the action scenes and the drama. But both boys performed exceptionally well. I'm really thankful to them, especially with the blocking of scenes.

[What were the challenges of this script/story?]

Pepzi: The challenge of this series is making viewers believe in our protagonist's guiding storyline. This story with a male lead who I dare say that it's a character who the audience must curse at while watching. I believe some viewers will be upset, and there are certain plot points that some may not like. But like I've said, Ming is just human; he also has unlikable aspects (t/n: the exact term Pepzi used is that Ming has a few 'not so cute' aspect). However, Up's portrayal of Ming convinces us. When it airs, some people may criticize him because his character truly destestable and deserves all these the curses, but it's also important to emphasize that Up fearlessly played this role without fear of losing his image. And so I'm genuinely grateful and thankful if Up['s character] receives criticism afterward, because it's also a recognition that he plays Ming so accurately and well. Everyone please save Up.

[Most difficult and favorite scenes]

Pepzi: The NC scene when they first met. For me, it was difficult because of the blocking for that scene and I'm the person who did the blocking myself. Feeling of enjoyment from my own work. Because the starting point is this initial spark of love from the staircase, then to the room, and then we also incorporated the raining effect while the actors have to perform the NC scenes with multiple blockings. In order for an NC scene to be beautiful, not only does it require the actors' emotions but also the right blockings and the right camera work. It's a challenge for the actors and everyone involved, but I believe the results will be great, and indeed, they've been showcased exceptionally well. There may also be complaints. For my favorite scene... Actually my favorite scene is also an NC scene. However, it's an NC near the end of the series... Because as I've said before, and I have emphasized this repeatedly to the actors that these [NC] scenes aren't just for shock value (t/n: exact term Pepzi used is that these NC scenes do not exist "simply for the viewers to drive their ships"); the specific reason is to depict the love between the characters over time. The plot spans two lifetimes, from the previous one to the current, and it's necessary to complete this love story. For the last NC scene, since I'm the person who designed every action for it, I felt like there were lots of moments that make go... [squeals] There were some shy moments, but in the end, everything stems from love. The two actors also have great chemistry, and for me, and for me, it all turned into beautiful scenes. I thank them very much.

[Explain the name of title "My Stand-in"]

Pepzi: A stand-in is like a substitute. We used a particular person as a substitute for someone else. In the storyline, Joe substitutes for everything three times. The first time, he's a stunt double, a profession on its own. But being a stuntman means it's the profession where Joe willing becomes another star's stand-in. What does this mean? Even there's fame, it belongs to the star, not the substitute. That's the first time being a stand-in. Later on, the second stand-in occurs when he suddenly has a lover who only likes him from behind because his back looks like that of the star. So, Joe is a stand-in, a stand-in again for love. The third time, Joe himself dies and is reborn. Not reborn as a new person, but being transformed into someone else's body. Finally, he circles around until he returns back again to his old life. I think this kind of substitute is his own substitute. It's the third time being a stand-in. So, this series represents Joe being substituting for many aspects.

[Expectations for this drama]

Pepzi: I only hope the viewers watching the series will see the dedication of all the actors as well as the staff. Regarding ratings and... what do they call it?... ahh Twitter trends and things like that, honestly, as a person who works on the series, I can say it without being embarassment that we want it to be high too since it's normal that everyone hopes for that as it's one metric to gauge the quality of this series. But actually more importantly for me, the buzz on Twitter should come from a genuine liking of the series from the viewers' hearts. After watching it, if everyone genuinely falls in love with this series, as creators, we naturally anticipate feedback from the audience. Whether it's praise or criticism, we're happy. But as I've said, I've given my all to showcase our best work for everyone to see.

[Recommend "My Stand-In" to everyone]

Pepzi: Thank you all. Both the actors and the staff have put their best talents into this series. I want the audience to see this as well. I want the audience to see this as well. Please pay more attention to My Stand-In. You can watch it on IQIYI Original. I really hope everyone, as I said, to see that all the staff have put their best talents into this series. We're really eager for everyone to watch it. Whether you like it or not, everyone can comment. We're very proud to introduce this series as really good. You must watch it!

You can watch the original interview here with iQIYI VIP.

[marshmellowtea]

i realized recently that a problem i have in many fandoms i’ve been in is that i oftentimes will pine after the recognition and acceptance of people in the fandom that i thought were cool who most of the time barely knew me or barely had an interest in me, instead of putting my energy into the cool people who i already talked to and are interested in being friends with me

[shomixremix]

YOUR DRAGON LOVER ♡︎

i NEED more dragon! zhongli and dragon! neuvillette content, so i decided to make some. hope you lovelies enjoy <3

tags: Zhongli, Neuvillette, dragon! zhongli, dragon! neuvillette, human! female! reader, fluff, cuddling, smut, monster fucking, overstimulation, breeding

-> your life turns upside down once you find out the man you're in love with is a dragon. however, this only betters your relationship in many different aspects, the bedroom being one of them.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI!

-> zhongli

being a mere mortal and dating the rex lapis, morax himself, had it's perks. for example, you had seen for the first time in your life what a dragon looks like up close.

everyone knew the god, skillfully masked as the businessman zhongli, had a dragon form. yet you didn't fully believe that he could transform back and forth between his mythical and human form, no, that was silly! you were too shy, perhaps even to embarrassed, to ask him in the first few months of you two dating wether this was true.

there were signs that the legends were true, of course. the way you would catch him slightly growl at unpleasant strangers in public, the sound coming out unhuman, animalistic even. his teeth were unusually sharp, too. whenever the two of you would find yourself kissing the night away, you'd slide your tounge against his larger fangs, always wondering why they were so pointy.

one day, after about 2 months of your relationship, you had decided to surprise him and make him some dinner before he returns home. you made your way over to his place, sliding the spare key he gave you into the lock and heading inside. to your surprise, someone was there - deep, loud snores were coming from the master bedroom.

"zhongli? love, are you in there?"

your grip tightened on the woolen basket in which you carried your ingredients for the dinner you planned. the snores were very loud and deep, and something about them told you it wasn't your boyfriend making them. the door of his bedroom was slightly open, making you take a little peek.

you're eyes shot up wide open as you saw the creature lounging on morax's bed, stepping back in shock. a mortified look spread on your face as your heart beat loudly against your chest like it wanted to escape. the creature was lizard-like, a dragon perhaps, with a long brownish body and golden scales. in shock, you yelped, which stirred the creature awake.

"z-zhongli..?" you ask, unsure if it was actually the man you love.

"hello, my dearest" he yawned, stretching large paws as he sat up. "what are you doing here?"

completely ignoring his question, you step closer, reaching out your hand to him almost as if you were checking what was before you was real.

"it is me, my love. i did not mean to startle you with my dragon form, you simply caught me off guard"

your hand makes contact with his nuzzle, petting him gently. even though this monstrous creature was certainly frightening, the eyes were like big pools of honey, sweet and warm and inviting.

it was him, you knew in your heart.

♡︎

two years have past and you have gotten more than used to your dragon lover. you didn't just get used to zhongli's dragon form - you loved it. he was so glorious and dignified, proud and gorgeous, yet fuzzy and cute, like a little puppy. anyone else would probably be mortified to be cuddling with a dragon adeptus as powerful as him, but zhongli wasn't a powerful adeptus to you; he was simply your boyfriend.

"awww... do you feel good, Li?" you ask as you pet his head, massaging around his two, golden horns. he awards your actions with a vibrating purr emerging deep from his chest. you were laid on your bed together, enjoying a simple afternoon of cuddles and pets. his much larger, although scaled down, dragon body laid behind you, his underbelly making a perfect headrest for your head.

the adeptus continued purring as you petted him some more, leaving a few kisses along his snout. to think that he looked this scary and mighty but behaved like a kitchen cat...

"i feel as if i'm floating, my dear. you truly know how to care for an old dragon like me.." he sighed, pushing his head in your lap. your plushy, half-exposed thighs made much better of a pillow than any silk one he ever tried, he remarked.

suddenly, you felt a soft sensation on the top of your head. you raise your gaze and realize his fluffy tail tried returning the favor and petting you back. you smile at the feeling, dragging your fingertips from the top of his head down his spine, following the growth of his golden scales. he shivered under your touches, visibly enjoying himself.

"oh, sorry" you mumble, immediately removing your hand from his back, thinking you had done something wrong. even though you were already used to his dragon form, you still hadn't learned by heart where you could touch and where you could not.

he grumbled low as soon as your hands were off his scaly skin, his tail wrapping around your hand and returning it to his spine.

"don't stop" he growled, as if he was desperate for more of your pets, "i have been alive for eons, beloved, and nothing in those few eons has ever felt as good as what you're doing to me. i am a god, my dear, and your touches are my heaven"

♡︎ (NSFW ahead)

one of the best parts of zhongli was his dragon form, you thought. how protecting and caring he was, how soft and affectionate he was, and most importantly, how good he fucked you.

it took a long time for you to get over your embarrassment and ask him to make love while he's in his dragon form. since he's an adeptus, the dragon form was more familiar and comfortable for him than the human form (no matter how good he looked in the human form). besides, the talk around town was that rex lapis' body was anatomically different than a human male one.

as you were now under him, you finally understood what they meant by "different".

"ahh! li! LI! oohhh, archons, please!" you cried in overstimulation as his two cocks filled your holes, each significantly larger than anything of a normal male.

"there aren't any archons here except me, beloved. they can't help you nor grant your wishes, only i can. so why don't you beg your archon, my dear?" the smirk on his snout was almost sadistic as he growled these words in your ear, each followed by a hard thrust. he was big even in his human form, but this was just impossible - he wasn't even halfway in, and you were pretty sure you could feel him in your lungs!

"ahhh! oh, zhongli! z-zhongli! AH! please! rex lapis, ohhh, please! MORAX! MORAX, I NEED YOU!" you cry and writhe under him as he fucks you. it feels so good that you can't help but move around and shake, almost as if the pleasure was too much for you to bare.

"such a good follower... my most devoted follower is asking for me and as your archon, i'll happily answer your call..."

he nipped at your soft body, leaving little bite marks as he went along.

"what is it that you want, my dear?" he asks, splitting you in half with his dicks as you come for the nth time tonight.

"need you... all of you... please, zhongli... ohhhhh, please.."

being consumated by an adeptus was an honor. and being bred by an archon? well, that was just unimaginable. yet here you were, under the geo archon, begging to give him heirs.

"i shall give you what you need, then..." he sighs as he buries his head against your bosom, resting as he suddenly stills and buries his cocks as deep as they could possibly go. he started coming, breeding you until there wasn't a drop of sweet release left in him.

when you finally caught your breath, zhongli curled his long body around your smaller one, soothing you to slumber with his fluffy tail.

you knew at that moment that he'd have to be in his dragon form more often when the two of you are being intimate.

-> neuvillette

finding out your boyfriend of many years was the great hydro dragon came as a surprise. when he told you the secret he's kept for years, you sat in silence, wondering how to process all of this. you felt confused, decieved, and most of all, scared. even though this was still neuvi, your neuvi, he was also the great hydro dragon, a powerful, significant beast.

"i don't want anything to change because of my other form", rasped neuvillette, his poolwater eyes begging for reassurance, "....i hope you know i love you just the same, my love. and i cincerely hope you can forgive me for my lies over the past few years"

you stayed quiet, wondering what you should say. this was definitely not how you imagined this tea in his living room would go.

"can i... see it?"

he blinked once or twice, processing your question silently.

"your dragon form, i mean." you offer him a reassuring smile, as he shakes his head in disbelief.

"if you wish. i don't want to frighten you, mon cherie."

he changes into his dragon form, leaving you breathless. the final result of the whole thing was much less scary than the transformation - watching the man you love grow scales and wings was a stomach-turning experience. finally, the handsome man before you was gone, and a very large dragon appeared.

you stayed quiet, reaching your hands to hold his large nuzzle. he leaned into your touches, closing his eyes as your hands made contact with him.

"hello" you whispered, as if greeting a new person in your life, as if it wasn't someone you loved for the past four years.

"hello, dragon sovereign"

his ears twitched at those words, his spine tingling at the feeling. oh, so he liked being called that.

"hello, mon cherie" he grumbled in return, nuzzling his head against your torso.

"you're beautiful" you whisper in his ear as you pet him gently. "your scales are so pretty, like the ocean... you're one gorgeous dragon, neuvi. there is no reason to hide this side of you."

he smiled warmly, enjoying your warm words and touches.

"why did you hide this from me...?" you ask quietly, scratching his underchin lovingly.

"i was afraid of how you will take it. not many would be okay with having any kind of relations with a dragon", he murmured into your embrace, "let alone romantic ones."

"i don't mind" you humm as you pet him.

"you're not scary at all, love"

♡︎

"how am i not heavy?!" you ask through a chuckle, spread on top of your dragon lover's back as he lounged in his bedroom.

"you weight like a feather, my love. what are you even doing up there, hm?"

you laugh as you play with his mane, twirling it around your fingers and smoothing it out.

"petting my favorite dragon"

"are you implying you know multiple dragons, mon cherie?" he chuckled as well, swaying his body a little and trying to shake your smaller body from his back. finally he shook you off him, your frame losing balance and rolling from your spot on his back. you fell right next to him, and he instantly repositioned his body to hold you.

neuvillette had so much work, always, that all he wanted to do in his free time was lounge and sleep. that's why he repositioned you slightly so you could lay on his arm, covering your body with one of his wings.

"mmm, neuvi..."

it was so sweet and funny to you how he held you. you had read in books and stories that said dragons were hoarders - teriorial animals who'd cherish their treasures and hold them tightly in their nest. which was exactly how neuvillette held you in your bed.

he may have been sleepy - but you weren't; and quite frankly, you were bored. you decided to turn a little more to him, kissing at his chest and underbelly while soothing his wings with your palms.

"how am i supposed to take a nap with you caressing me the way you are, my love?"

"c'mere, neuvi..." you softly murmur, manouvering yourself to sit up, and moving his head to your lap. "there, love, rest there."

and he did, falling asleep peacefully as he was petted in your lap, getting many kisses and praises in your safe arms.

♡︎ (NSFW ahead)

the best part about finally knowing this side of your lover finally happened once he got comfortable showing his dragon form to you. even though you initial reaction was that he's scary, you had second thoughts...

"neuvi, love, i know how uncomfy being in your human form all the time is... you don't have to for me, you know? i don't mind your true form..."

you said as neuvillette laid you down on the soft pillows in his bedroom, shirtlessly towering over you and ready to make love to you like there's no tomorrow.

"no, little one, you don't even know what you're asking for. i'll be too much for you to handle in my dragon form, darling, and i could never put my selfish needs and wishes before your safety"

your hand reaches for his face, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb. you blush at the thought of him taking you in his dragon form - was it wrong for you to think that was kinda hot? many would be disgusted by the idea of being consumated by a beast, yet you loved it; he was your beast, after all.

"please, hydro dragon sovereign...", you whisper as you touch him, "be a little selfish, love. you deserve it. and don't worry about me, i can take it!"

his whole body shudders at the way you said his name, his self control holding on by a thread.

"i love your confidence, mon cherie, you are so adorable. yet, i'm afraid you can't handle all i'm able to give. my whole body is much bigger when i'm a dragon, you know that very well, and i wouldn't be able to fit you.."

your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him so close your noses were touching. he could feel your warm breath on his lips when you whispered:

"i'll make you fit.."

and his self control went flying.

so here you were, hours later, getting fucked into the matress by a large dragon. you lost count on how many times you came, your head hazy from all the pleasure. neuvillette held you in place in a mating press, fucking you like his sole purpose was to breed you. yet, he hasn't come yet, even after hours of your lovemaking.

"mmmphrr... neuvii~ ohhh.. ple- ahhh.."

your moans were uncoherent, your words slurred. at this point, you didn't even know your own name - you only knew his. your boyfriend smirked at the way you whined under him, nuzzling his snout against your neck.

"shhh... you asked for this, little one. now you will take all i'm giving you, hm? you will be good for me?"

"mhmmmm!!" you whine as he fucks you, your vision blurry from all the pleasure. your hands reach for his back, and you start caressing the area around his wings, massaging his back.

"fuck, little one.." he curses as he stills, pushing your legs to your chest and thrusting in you as deep as he'd go. he started coming with a long groan, fucking you through his high with shallow little thrusts, untill your womb was completely filled with his release. you felt full, hazy and warm, and he felt incredible, eyes filled with lust and adoration watching how your stomach bulged with his seed.

one day, he's gonna get your body swollen with more than just sweet release and give you a baby. a beautiful, half-dragon baby.

[ellemj]

Making Sure: 12 Days of Smut #3 - Sex Pollen

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

Summary: Bucky is exposed to a sex pollen while the two of you are snowed in, stuck in a cabin in the Swiss Alps after finishing up a mission. Oh, and of course, you happen to be his ex-girlfriend.

Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), possessive!Bucky, breeding kink, unprotected sex, mutual pining of sorts, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: My laptop decided it didn't want to turn on today, and then when it finally turned on it didn't want to run any apps so 12 Days of Smut almost became 11 Days of Smut. But anyway, let me know if you guys like this one! For once, it doesn't involve anyone hating anyone or an obscene amount of unbearable tension (which I severely miss).

            It’s not all that hard to work with your ex, not when you ended on decent terms. Well, as decent as they could have been. When Bucky broke up with you three months ago, it wasn’t completely out of the blue. You hadn’t been having any problems, you never had any fights, but you knew he was never as into the relationship as you were. He had said from the very beginning that he didn’t think he ever wanted a lifelong commitment. The majority of his life had been spent without having true freedom to make his own decisions. It’s safe to say the man only had about six years of making decisions for himself, between turning eighteen and joining the army. Then the army had a say in everything he did until he was taken by HYDRA. HYDRA controlled him for so long, and honestly, they still have some form of control over him if you consider his nightmares and insomnia issues. So, when things started to feel a little too serious between you two, when Bucky started to realize that he actually loved you, that’s when he called it off.

            You’d both agreed to keep the relationship between yourselves, remaining professional at work and around the others. Even Sam had never figured it out. Bucky was so good at keeping it hidden, staying completely stoic unless he was positive you were both alone. When things ended between you two, he became stoic all the time. There have been a few times where you’ve felt a bit angry with how easily he can just shut himself off and pretend like you never had anything between you. You think you might’ve been in love with him. How can you be stoic around him when you loved him? You can’t be. So, instead of being stoic, you’re just a little more quiet than usual. You get your job done, you speak to him as professionally as you can, and then you get away from him.

            Unfortunately though, there’s no getting away from him tonight. Technically, your mission is already over. You broke into HYDRA’s only remaining functional lab, you stole at least one sample of each of the various compounds that they were working on, and then you got the hell out of there. You made it all the way back to the safehouse, a small rustic cabin a little ways up in the Swiss Alps. It had been snowing for the last twenty-four hours that you’d been here, but the winter weather came to a head to today on your drive back from the break-in. By the time you got all of the samples safely inside the cabin, there was no way either of you could make the drive back down the mountain to reach the quinjet. You’re stuck here for the night.

            “I want them kept at a pretty low temperature overnight, well below thirty degrees.” Bruce has been watching you over a video call as you’ve been cataloging the samples and packing them safely into a padded case. “It’d probably be best to leave them all in the trunk of the car, since it’s so cold out there.” Bucky’s sitting in the living area while you’re working at the kitchen table, but he’s still listening in. He’s listened for the last half hour as you labeled the samples and hummed a little Christmas tune to yourself. Truthfully, he almost forgot that Christmas is in a few days until he heard you humming that song that you love so much. What was it? He can never remember the name, but he recognizes it from last Christmas. You sang it often and he was lucky enough to still be yours then, to still get the privilege of listening to you flit around the tower so festively, infecting everyone around with your cheerful spirit.

            “They all fit in the case except for one, but it should be fine. I’ll just stick it in the trunk next to the case and slip it into my bag tomorrow before we drive out.” You say, holding up the thin glass flask containing a very watery, clear liquid. It looks the least terrifying, out of all of the chemicals you retrieved from the lab today.

            “Good work today, we’ll see you guys back here tomorrow, if the weather permits.” Bruce gives a little wave before ending the video call. Just as you’re closing the heavy black case of samples, Bucky rises from his seat on the couch and joins you in the kitchen.

            “I’ll take them out.” He offers, staying a few feet away from you but at least making eye contact with you. He doesn’t seem to look at you very often since you broke up, but you can’t complain about it. It makes it a little easier to get over him when you’re not drowning in his blue eyes. You give him a curt nod before sliding the case across the table and then setting the sealed flask of clear liquid on top of it.

            “Try not to jostle them around too much, carry it with two hands.”

            “Got it, two hands.” Bucky repeats. You watch as he lifts the case, leaving the glass flask resting on the lid. You think about carrying the lone chemical out there in your own hands, worrying that Bucky might tip the case a little too far and let the flask fall to the ground outside, but you brush off the worry. He’s never been clumsy, and he sure as hell hasn’t ever been careless. It’ll be fine. It’s just a short walk from the front door to the back of the car.

            In retrospect, you should’ve listened to your instincts.

            When Bucky rushes in the front door only a minute after he’s stepped outside with the chemicals, a sickening feeling settles deep in your stomach. You quickly turn to the source of commotion as he slams the door shut behind him and starts nearly jogging across the cabin, heading straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall.

            “Bucky? What happened?” You call out, your feet carrying you down the hall after him. Bucky strips off his coat, dropping it on the floor in the hall before throwing the bathroom door open and ripping off his shirt. He doesn’t even close the bathroom door. You step over his coat and come to a stop in the doorway as he leans down and turns on the shower.

            “Stay back.” He warns, giving you a sideways glance that makes your stomach flip. “I slipped on a patch of ice and the little glass thing on top of the case fell and shattered. Whatever was in it evaporated quick, but I inhaled a lot of it. I don’t know if I got any on me.”

            Shit. This is not good. Bucky starts unbuckling his belt, but stops himself after he gets it undone, finally turning and looking you straight in the eye. Right. You’re not together anymore.

            “Only rinse, don’t use soap. We don’t know what the chemical was or what might interact with it.” You say, forcing your voice to sound calmer than you feel. Bucky nods, and then shuts the door between the two of you. Shit. You knew you should’ve carried that damn flask yourself.

---

            Half an hour later, after Bucky’s finished showering and is resting on the couch per yours and Bruce’s orders, he begins to feel something. He wanted to go to bed, just sleep it off and see how he felt in the morning, but you and Bruce insisted that he stay in the living room and awake so you could monitor him for any weird signs or symptoms. You miss the first few symptoms that Bucky begins to feel. First, his heart rate began picking up. It was so miniscule at first that even he didn’t notice it, but it increased more and more until he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then, even in the chilly little cabin with a near-blizzard raging outside, Bucky began to feel hot. Hot to the point of wanting to take off everything he was wearing and go lay in the snow. Now he sits on the couch, breathing a little quicker than he was earlier, with beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. It’s his increased respiratory rate that you notice first. Then, as you begin looking him over from your far away seat at the kitchen table, you see the way his cheeks are flushed and the way his dark gray t-shirt is beginning to stick to the sweat coming off of his back. Shit. Whatever it was that he was exposed to, it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.

            You’re just about to ask Bucky what he’s feeling when he abruptly stands from the couch and looks right at you, his gaze wild and pupils blown.

            “Bucky—” You start, but he cuts you off in an instant.

            “I don’t know what was in that flask, but I’ll be fine. I’m not going to sit out here all night.” Bucky’s trying to play it off. He has no fucking idea if he’ll actually be fine, but the newest physiological response his body is having to the chemical isn’t one he wants you to become aware of. He’s aroused. His cock is harder than it’s ever been, and he’d rather sleep outside on the icy road and get run over by Santa’s fucking sleigh then stay this close to you. He worries he won’t be able to control himself if he has to look at you one more time tonight, if he even hears another breath leave your lips, he’ll be done for.  

            “Bucky, tell me what you’re feeling.” You say softly, pushing your chair away from the table and standing, but not daring to move any closer to where he stands in the living room. He scrunches his eyes closed and presses his vibranium hand to the back of his neck in an attempt to cool the skin there.

            “Y/n, I’m going to bed.” He sounds so frustrated. It’s a tone of voice you actually recognize. This is how he used to sound when you’d tease him at the worst times, when you were somewhere that restricted him from being able to touch you, to fuck you.

            “Is it what I think it is?” You ask, your voice impossibly quieter than before. Bucky’s eyes snap open now and he studies you. Looking at you makes his dick throb and his balls feel so fucking full and heavy. He closes his eyes again as quickly as he opened them and then, you’re sure. It was a fucking sex pollen.

            You don’t dare make a move to stop Bucky when he hurries down the hall and locks himself in his bedroom. You stand frozen in the kitchen for the next two minutes, trying to figure out what the hell you should be doing in a situation like this. You end up doing what you do best: researching. You sit yourself right back down at the table and open your laptop, quickly accessing the online archive of SHIELD research files. You type in every word you can possibly think of to find what you need. Luckily, the first article that pops up is exactly what you needed.

            You skim through it at lightning speed, your eyes picking up on the important details. Heightened senses, increases sexual drive ten-fold, may result in permanent disability or death if state of intense arousal is not rectified. Shit, this is bad. You’re wondering how the hell one is supposed to rectify the intense arousal when your eyes land on the most key piece of information in the entire article. Human trials have revealed that allowed the specimen to engage in sexual intercourse is the only successful way to return to a normotensive physiological state.

            You have to fuck. You have to convince him to have sex with you. You have to convince the man who broke up with you three months ago to have sex with you. You’ve suddenly decided that you fucking hate your job.

            However, you’re not going to sit around while Bucky becomes permanently disabled or lets himself die of exposure to a damn HYDRA sex pollen. So, you slam your laptop shut and march right down the hall. You tap your knuckles against his bedroom door three times, until you hear the bed creak slightly, so you at least know he’s alive. He doesn’t make a single move to answer the door. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so hard that it’ll probably never spring back into shape. His sense of hearing is heightened so much that he can hear every breath you take. He thinks he can even hear the sound of your eyelashes fluttering as you blink.

            “Bucky, I did some research.” God, just the sound of your voice might be enough to make him cum in his sweats. Bucky bites his bottom lip and looks down at where his erection is fighting to escape the confines of his sweats. “If this is a sex pollen, which I think we both know it is, it can kill you. The only way to fix this is to…” Your voice trails off, but you don’t have to finish your sentence for Bucky to know what the solution is here. But he won’t ask that of you. He refuses to ask you to sleep with him. He knows he broke your heart three months ago, and he’d be the world’s biggest asshole if he used you for relief now. So, he stays silent. “We could…”

            You can’t seem to finish any of your sentences. Why is it so hard for you to say we could fuck. Oh, right. Because you’ve missed the way he fucks for months. Because you know that if he wasn’t under the influence of this chemical right now, he sure as hell wouldn’t be turned on around you. You’d happily have sex with him right now, but he’d only be doing it because he has to do it to survive.

            “I know I’m probably the last person that you’d want to be offering this, but I’m offering. I don’t want you to sit in there and die.” You say softly, your voice cracking a little bit on the final word. The last person he’d want to be offering this? Fuck, you have no idea how he really feels, do you? Bucky screws his eyes shut and fights back the urge to throw the door open and tell you how much he fucking loves you, how much he’s missed you. It’s why he broke up with you in the first place. What if something happened one day that turned him right back into the Winter Soldier? What if he ended up on ice again and by the time he came out of cryo, you were dead and gone? He had to break up with you, because he felt like his future was always too unclear to promise it to someone.

            “I’m here, Bucky, if you need me.” You whisper, with your forehead pressed against the cool wood of the door. He can tell that you’re hurting for him. It’s why, against his rational mind, he finds himself crossing the room and tugging the door open. When he sees you standing there in the light of the hallway, he can hear that little Christmas tune that you love so much playing in his head. Fuck it.

            You’ve barely had a second to realize that Bucky’s just opened the door for you before you feel his hand fist in your hair and he yanks you forward against his chest. His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss. Bucky sucks your bottom lip between his and wastes no time in using his hold on your hair to tilt your head to the side and slide his tongue into your mouth. You act on muscle memory, kissing him the same way you used to every single day. You let his tongue dance around your mouth, but when he begins to pull back you suck on it lightly, earning a groan from him. He tastes just like you remember, and suddenly you want him so badly that for all you know you could have some sex pollen coursing through your veins.

            “The last person I’d want to be offering this?” Bucky rasps against your lips, briefly looking into your eyes as he repeats your words in question. “You’re the only person I’d want to be offering this.” He pulls on your hair again, tilting your head further to the side and sucking on the skin right below your ear. Your eyes close as you try to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself that as perfect as this might feel right now, it won’t last.

            It takes mere seconds for Bucky to pull you into his room and practically throw you onto his bed. When he crawls over you a second later, it’s like he’s suddenly realized you both still have your clothes on. He stands back up beside the bed and strips quickly, exposing every bit of his fucking heavenly body to you. You don’t even try to choke back the whimper that leaves your lips. Bucky freezes when he hears it. He’s heard it before. He’s heard it in his dreams, ever since you broke up. It’s sort of funny. He never had dreams before, only nightmares. Until he broke up with you, and then he started having dreams about you every night. They’ve replaced nearly every nightmare. Instead of HYDRA being the reason he’s up at night, it’s all you.

            You start shimmying out of your pants right there on the bed as you look at Bucky, too impatient to stand up and take everything off like he did. He strokes his cock slowly in one hand, but every time his palm glides over the tip he makes a face like he’s in pain. You know from your brief research that touching himself won’t give him an ounce of relief, it’ll only make things worse. So, once you have your pants off, you reach up and grab his wrist, stopping his stroking, and pulling him closer to the bed. He gets the hint and positions himself on top of you again, spreading your legs apart with his knee before settling between them.

            “I’ve missed you.” Bucky coos against the side of your neck, right as you feel the head of his cock brushing against your clit through your already soaked panties. He didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t want to make the break up any harder for you, but fuck. He’s missed having you under him like this, though in the past you never kept your panties and shirt on when you were under him.

            “I’ve been right here.” You respond quietly, letting your hands coast down his sides until you feel the way his back muscles are rigid underneath your palms. He’s restraining himself. “Bucky, you don’t have to hold back.” He sighs deeply and grinds his cock against you, hard. It draws a moan from your lips that’s so needy, Bucky can’t wait any longer. He knows he’s only waited a minute at this point, but he just can’t anymore. He reaches down between the two of you and snags a finger in your panties, deftly pulling them to the side and guiding his cock straight into you without warning. The cry that escapes you isn’t one of pain or surprise, it’s one of pure lust. It might’ve been three months since the last time you had sex, but your body accepts his cock like it never left. There’s no pain, there’s only pleasure as he starts fucking into you slowly. He builds the pace up in mere seconds, speeding up more and more until he’s fucking you so hard and fast that the headboard is snapping against the wall and scratching the paint.

            “God, you’re still so fucking tight for me.” He groans, burying himself balls deep inside you. He stays still for a moment, letting your pussy grip his cock like a vice.

            “It’s still yours.” You whisper the words against his jawline. When his eyes snap open and stare straight into yours, you know you probably shouldn’t have said it. His pupils are already overly dilated, but they expand a little more as possessiveness flares in his chest. He always loved when you let him know who your pussy belonged to. He fucking loved it.

            Wait. The realization hits you both at the same time. He isn’t wearing a condom. As he looks into your eyes, his face falls and your eyes widen. He never once fucked you without a condom on. It was part of his whole no-long-term-commitment thing. He didn’t want to risk an unintentional pregnancy, so he never let himself fuck you raw. When he starts to pull out, you’re quick to wrap your legs around him and lock him in place.

            “Don’t.” You plead. You want this. You’ve always wanted this. Bucky bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying to find a single rational thought in his mind. He knows he shouldn’t do this, he knows he should pull out and find a fucking condom. But will he?

             The answer is no. He uses what little space you give him between your legs to start thrusting into you again, slower this time, but still every bit as deep as before.

            “If you don’t let me pull out…” He starts, but you pull his face down to yours and silence him with a kiss. After a few seconds, he picks up his pace and begins fucking you relentlessly once again, further ruining the paintjob on the bedroom wall behind the headboard.

            “I always wanted you to fuck me like this.” You sigh against his lips. You feel Bucky’s entire body tense up as he nears his release, your words egging him on.

            “Oh, baby, I always wanted to fuck you like this.” He admits, snapping his hips into yours and getting you that much closer to the edge. As your orgasm threatens to tear through you, something weighs heavy on Bucky’s mind. He wants to cum inside you. He loves you but he’s always told himself he can’t have you, because his future is so unclear, he can’t make promises to you and possibly break them. But…he’s a good guy. If he were to knock you up, he’d do the right thing. The traditional thing. He’d marry you and take such good care of you, of the little family you’d have together. Maybe that’s what he should do. He thinks that maybe if he gets you pregnant right now, it would force him to give you his future, no matter how much it scares him. He’d be so much more concerned with doing the right thing in the present, rather than worrying about what might happen in the future. “Let me cum inside you.”

            “You can, Bucky. You can cum inside me.” You moan out, locking your ankles together behind him and pulling him harder against you. He groans and presses another kiss to your lips, but a gentler one this time.

            “You’ll have a baby for me.” He doesn’t even phrase it as a question, no, he’s telling you what you’ll do. “You’ll let me get you pregnant, and then you’ll be mine.”

            “Fuck…” The curse falls from your lips as bliss surges through you. You can’t even find the words to say what you want to say, which is fuck yes. So, you lay there submissively, with your legs wrapped around him as he fucks every drop of cum that he has into you. Then, you catch your breath while he pulls his cock out of you and slides your panties back over your sore cunt. You even let him pile the pillows beneath your hips and legs, elevating your pelvis to make sure his cum won’t drip back out of you.

            Fuck. He really wants to make sure you’re pregnant after this.

TAG LIST (if your user has a line through it, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you):

@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @nixxaswrld @ordelixx @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @crist1216  @twlkdead

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

I Need You

The TWST Cast's reaction, (under the preamble), when you tell them you're going home (assuming close platonic relationships, and reader having expressed uncertainty of wanting to return home at some point prior to this/has underlying doubts that they would be missed if they did leave) May be a little OOC sorry, and there are inconsistencies but it's not bad, still, sorry

Approx. 7.6k words, but separated by character so feel free to just read the character you want lmao (unless it's Malleus, sorry) ----------------------------------------------------- You had expected to happy. Overjoyed, excited, if and when the headmage finally told you he had found a way for you to return home, now that you had 'seen your use' here in Twisted Wonderland. Of course, he was no monster, and in his abundant generousity allowed you to have your time to say good byes and collect your things before he would send you on your way. He seemed to take your pure shock as a positive thing, ushering you out of his office in glee as he had finally fulfilled his promise he made to you when you first arrived.

There was so much you wanted to say, to protest, but the headmage was adamant and quick, and the words swirled in your head. Had you really just been a tool for him? Had he summoned you in the first place merely to take care of issues he had an inclination would arise? Your feet had never felt more leaded, your heart had never felt so heavy, and breathing had never required this much effort. Why did it hurt so bad? You were going home. But it wasn't the place you had come from that was associated with that word anymore, instead it was Ramshackle, complete with three ghosts and a grey, cat-like creature sitting in front of it, waiting for you to return. You couldn't just leave, could you? At least when you'd been brought here, you hadn't been given a choice, it just... happened. You may not have been happy at first, but it wasn't like there was much waiting for you at home either, nothing you really felt was worth giving up the experiences you had here; good and bad as the memories had come, you had friends and....family here that you wouldn't give up for the world. But the headmage seemed to have his mind set on sending you home.

You hugged yourself, doubt forming nasty storms of thoughts you'd rather not have, wondering whether anyone here would miss you if you left, especially now that everyone's problems were well on their way to being solved. You knew you had contributed, but was this a job or were you friends? It was getting hard to tell. You realized you would rather just tell them you were going home...and if they wanted you around, they'd tell you, right?

You sought out your closest...who you thought was your closest friend, looking for comfort and their opinion, unable to meet their eyes as you quietly told them, "I'm going home."

Heartslaybul

Riddle It seemed so out of the blue. You had come over for tea as per usual, though more pensive than normal, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Your words hit Riddle like a truck, making him audibly gasp softly. He looked down into his tea, struggling to hold back tears as he ran his thumb over the small hump of the handle on his teacup, his reflection rippling from the tremble in his hands. After some silence and practiced, slow breathing, he spoke, though neither of you made eye contact. "If that is what you want....I support you wholeheartedly...though I must admit...you will be...dearly missed." He tried to hide the shakiness in his voice. You had always been so supportive of him, so eager to ensure he had a place and people to turn to when he needed them, if all you needed was support from him in this moment, he would provide it...even if it hurt him.

You looked up from your tea sadly, only to watch as fat tears rolled down Riddle's cheeks. You struggled to hold back your own tears as you reached across the table and offered your hand to him. He looked up at you at first in surprise, then took your hand and wiped the tears from his face with his other hand, rather hastily before laughing softly, though it sounded pained.

"My apologies...I do not wish to influence your decision in-"

You cut him off squeezing his hand gently as tears began streaming down your face, your voice quiet, but desperate.

"Please...just tell me to stay....or...or go."

You swallowed hard and looked away, unsure of what you would do if the redhead told you it was best if you left.

Teary, stormy grey eyes finally looked towards you, first in confusion, then in fondness and relief as he smiled a bit and tried to inject some authority into his voice.

"My word is law. As of this moment, rule 811 and is as follows." You looked up in confusion and anxiety - there were only 810 rules, and Riddle had made it clear that he never wished to amend them in anyway. His smile only grew softer as his thumb ran over your knuckles gently so as to try and comfort you, though a small laugh bubbled out of him.

"I was going to try and make it all official sounding...but the truth is I need you...so please...if it's my input that will make your decision, I implore you....stay with me."

You couldn't help the smile that bloomed, and the relieved laughter that left you as you wiped at your eyes a bit more as both you and Riddle stood up from the table, the boy opening his arms to you for a hug.

"You scared me there for a moment."

"I scared you? You practically informed me that this would be one of our last times together unless I convinced you to stay! I thought a rule may be more convincing than...just my begging but..." he trailed off, snuggling into you a bit more and holding you a little tighter. "It worked. That's all that matters to me."

Trey

You were sitting at the island in the Heartslaybul kitchen, just watching Trey bake. You told him you had something important to tell him, so he had tilted his head and told you he was listening. However, after telling him that you were headed home, he didn't so much as glance back at you; he had just continued measuring out cups of flour, leaving you feeling rather dejected and hurt.

"Did you hear me?"

Trey glanced over his shoulder a bit, continuing to work. "I did."

You were somewhat baffled that he didn't add anything, watching him in mildly offended disbelief.

"You have nothing to say on the matter?"

"I do. But I don't think you want to hear it." He moved to wash his hands in the sink, his side profile now visible to you, and disturbingly absent of any trace of sadness. If anything, he was wearing a small smirk. Did he really not care if you left? You were disgruntled, allowing a moment of silence between the two of you before you spoke up.

"Well I do want to hear it."

At that, Trey turned and looked at you, his smile only getting a little bigger.

"You're not going home. Your heart's not in it. You're just echoing what you've been told because you think you have to go but you don't. The headmage can't force you to go home, so just say no thank you to him and let it be done with."

You sat in baffled silence for a moment before somewhat timidly asking, "Was it that clear I didn't want to go?"

Trey chuckled softly, returning to his work. "It was clear from the moment you walked in here you weren't happy about whatever you were going to try and tell me. Once I get these baked off, I'll come with you to the headmage. You're not going anywhere unless you want to, I promise."

Cater

You had texted him that you had something you wanted to tell him, but never in a million years did he think you meant you were leaving him.

He thought he had been in this position a million times before - you make a friend, you get their contact information, you fool around and then it's time to leave.

Only you were an actual...friend not an acquaintance. Not to mention, you could have moved to Atlantica and he was sure he could have found a way to keep in touch with you at the very least.

But you were going to leave this world. This pocket of space and time.

Cater rapidly blinked back tears and forced a cheery smile and an uncomfortable sounding laugh as he took your hand in his.

"Ok, haha, funny prank, now where are the cameras? Like, this is a bit, right, something you're gonna post on Magicam to start a trend?...it's a prank, right? Do you need a bigger reaction? I can give you a bigger reaction, we can do this take again, just tell me it's a prank." He bit his lip, fighting back tears as he squeezed both of your hands in his, emerald eyes desperately searching your face for any hint that this was meant to be a joke and nothing more. You knew how much you meant to him, you knew about the pattern he'd been forced to fall into, even if this was a bad joke, it was better than it being the truth.

You had to blink back your own tears, turning your face away from him a bit as a small sob left you and you closed the gap between the two of you in a hug, burying your face into him as you started to cry. He held you close and tightly, afraid that letting you go would mean letting you go forever as he struggled to keep his own emotions in check, sniffling.

"Do you really have to g-go?" He choked up over the word, shallow, panicked breathing not helping his emotions.

You sniffled and looked up at him, tears streaming down both of your faces at this point.

"Please don't go...not if it's making you this upset to leave...and you have a choice...please don't leave me" He begged you softly, waiting with bated breath for your decision.

You looked up at him tearfully, trying to smile as you made up your mind.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Those words alone were enough to bring Cater to his knees, his body giving out on him from the sheer amount of relief he felt knowing...he wouldn't be alone again. As long as you were around, he had someone to keep living for. You sat down on his bed, gently patting the mattress beside you as a silent invitation for him to join, but the most he could manage was a mumbled apology for getting your pants wet as he cried into your lap, too exhausted to pick himself up off the floor.

Deuce

It took a moment for him to process what you were saying. He had barely walked through the doors of Ramshackle at your request for him to come over, and now you were telling him you were leaving??

You had been waiting anxiously for his arrival, so before you even got through the niceties of thanking him for coming, you had kind of just blurted it out to him.

The shock was still running through his veins, so he also blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"But I already told my mom that you're coming for Thanksgiving next year!"

You both stared at each other in silence for a moment, before reality sunk in. You started laughing a little bit, but not without tears starting to well up.

"Well then I guess I've got to stick around until Thanksgiving."

Deuce didn't get the joking tone, tearing up, his bottom lip quivering a bit.

"So you're gonna go home after Thanksgiving? Why are you laughing, this isn't funny." He couldn't help but laugh a tiny bit as well, confused and upset at your reaction.

You shook your head and wiped your eyes a bit, smiling a bit "Well I mean...if I'm invited over for every Thanksgiving, I can't exactly go anywhere because skipping out would just be rude, wouldn't it?" In truth...the fact that he had gone so far as to plan at least a year in advance was enough to confirm that at least one person here wanted you to stay.

Deuce picked up on it now, beaming and tackling you in a tight hug, crushing you more than he intended to. You could feel the tears on his cheek still though as he spoke.

"You're invited to every Thanksgiving at my house from now until the end of time, okay?! You have to be there!"

Ace

It felt like the world stopped moving. He was just planning a prank to pull off on one of his upperclassmen, and was about to share his masterplan with you until he'd seen your face and made the mistake of asking what was wrong.

He just sat himself down next to you on the old Ramshackle couch, arms on his knees, his head down and pensive.

"So that's it? You're just going to up and leave?" You could sense there was more he wanted to say, but was biting his tongue for once, for your sake. His eyes were fixed on the uneven flooring beneath his feet, expression stern and unmoving as he tried to rationalize why you would want to leave.

You took in a sharp breath, trying to respond, but nothing came out.

Ace's brow furrowed in frustration, but tried to hide it by turning his face away.

"I thought you said you were happy here. Sure, things haven't been great, but I thought you had made peace with the fact Crowley is a lazy piece of shit that wasn't going to do anything to get you back where you came from. I thought...." His voice caught for a moment, his breath shaky. "....I thought you'd already decided to stay...because this is home now...I thought the friendships you've made here would be enough to keep you here since you never talk about the friends or family you had back....wherever you came from." He had to stand up at this point, pacing in front of you.

"You have people who care about you here, okay?! You gotta give us more than a days notice or so, don't we deserve that in the very least? Like at least give us time to throw you a party or something but more importantly, give us time to adjust to the idea that our friend is going to be out of our lives forever!" He took a few shaky breaths, panting a bit as he pushed his hair out of his face, trying not to let tears form. Not now. Not in front of you.

His words made you recoil slightly as you felt the need to defend yourself.

"I don't want to adjust to a life without you guys either!"

He looked at you dumbfounded and unamused.

"Then why the fuck are you leaving?"

It took you a moment to process, looking down a bit before responding.

".....I didn't know what I wanted until I heard the opposite of what I wanted...and...well I guess it's kinda dumb, but I think I needed to know that I would actually be missed."

Though you didn't see it, Ace's expression softened immediately. He sighed and sat back down next to you, hugging you tightly to him. "Yeah idiot, I, for one, would miss you a ton...I mean who else is gonna talk Riddle outta givin' me the collar?"

You couldn't help but snort a bit at that, making Ace grin. Thank the Sevens, this wouldn't be the last time he'd try to make you laugh.

Savanaclaw

Leona

You barging into his room wasn't exactly unheard of, rather, your footsteps had become a very comforting sound as they approached his bedroom. He had pretended to be asleep as he heard you coming this time, but just wanted to silently enjoy your company for a bit before "waking up".

Your announcement had him upright in the blink of an eye though, tail flicking in discontent behind him. He studied you for a mere moment before yawning and laying back down.

"If that's so, you better get over here. I demand at least one more nap together."

You didn't really know what to make of his reaction, curiosity over whether that was really "it" or not getting to you as you ventured closer to his bed. As soon as you were close enough, he yanked you close to him, making you yelp. He immediately maneuvered the two of you so that he could lay his head on your shoulder, effectively hiding his face from you...and keeping you somewhat pinned.

"Good luck leaving now herbivore...you're gonna miss this too much if you leave...and you'll no longer have a prince taking care of your every need...and-" He sounded almost like a child, pleading in his own way to be good enough for you to want to stay. If he couldn't be good enough at home, he wanted to know he would still have you.

You ran your fingers gently through his hair.

"Yeah you're right...I think I've gotten too used to this lifestyle to ever go back."

You could feel the tension leave his body as he pressed his head against your hand a little harder.

"Good. You're stuck with me forever."

You couldn't help but smile, any doubts you had melting away with those words alone.

Ruggie

You caught him off guard while he was on laundry duty for Leona, his back to you as silence so thick you could cut it filled the space between you two. Ruggie's ears were pressed flat against his head, his tail had stopped wagging, and for a moment, he didn't move, his hand gripping onto the useless piece of cloth in front of him. You opened your mouth to say something, but he turned to face you, looking over you for a moment.

"Y'know, usually in moments like this I quote my grandma..." You looked a bit confused, thrown off by where he was going with this as his tail started to wag the slightest bit.

"But I don't think she's got anything better than the kids at home do for this situation." He grins and covers his ears with his hands, tail wagging faster. "I didn't hear you so it doesn't count!"

Despite his playful demeanor, you could see tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

"Ruggie-" he immediately closed his eyes so he couldn't see your lips moving either, shaking his head as he tried to deny the news you'd given him.

"I...I can't hear you....please...just...if...if I can't hear you....I can pretend you're at Ramshackle...or somewhere else on Sage Island....I can...it'll be...." his rambling tapered off into soft, gaspy sobs, his hands falling away from his head, moving to hug himself instead. "If you leave...I can just pretend l-like you know how to get back....even..even if your world has no magic."

As soon as your arms wrapped around him, he was hugging you instead, burying his face into your neck and sobbing, his voice cracking as he asked softly, "This...this isn't a g-goodbye hug yet, right?"

"It's not a goodbye hug at all." You nuzzled into his hair a bit, causing him to relax in your hold.

"....do I have to prepare for a goodbye hug in my future?" You didn't have to think about it, shaking your head immediately, and causing him to cling onto you as if to convince himself you weren't going anywhere.

Jack

At your request, Jack had made the trip out to Ramshackle, rather happy that you wanted to see him - though he didn't want to admit it. However, his demeanor shifted as he saw you sitting rather dejectedly on the stairs outside of your dorm. He quickened his pace, before rather awkwardly sitting in front of you on the ground instead of beside you.

Upon checking in on you and receiving the news that you were to go home, his tail curled up beside him and his ears flattened, though he looked more pensive than anything.

"....do you want to go home?"

You looked at him, rather exhausted and rubbed your eye a bit. "I don't know anymore Jack and that's half the issue...I mean at the beginning of the year, yeah, that was what I wanted more than anything but now..." He watched your expression sadden a bit. A comfortable silence fell between you two as you stewed in your conflict and he tried to brainstorm a way to get you to stay without coming off as desperate.

"....you know....they say home is where the heart is..." He looked away a little awkwardly, feeling you silently ask for an explanation with your expression. "....so...if you can figure out where your heart lies....maybe it'll make your decision easier...but for me it's always laid with my family and I uh...consider you family too." He couldn't help but blush a bit at the admission, but felt a little guilty saying it out loud. Though you'd never really talked about your family at home, it wasn't fair to assume they weren't important to you, or to make you feel like you had to choose between one family and the other- if you felt the same way about him, or other friends at least.

His guilt faded as soon as he felt your cool hand against his cheek, a smile on your face despite the tears in your eyes. His tail started wagging a mile a minute as your choice became clear, that you saw him the same way.

Octavinelle

Azul

He was grateful you had come to talk to him in his office. It was much easier to keep his composure between the two of you, though you didn't miss the way his expression darkened for a moment immediately after hearing the news.

You watched curiously as Azul fished a document out from his desk, raising it so as to hide his face as he began reading off of it.

"In the event that the Ramshackle prefect, (i.e Yuu), and any Ramshackle resident(s), excluding any ghosts, are to leave campus permanently before the year 20XX, this letter gives the recipient, (i.e Azul Ashengrotto, Owner of Mostro Lounge), permission to alter, upgrade, and otherwise renovate the Ramshackle dorm building in accordance with Sage Island's building and infrastructure laws and regulations in order to establish another restaurant on Night Raven College school grounds. Signed by Dire Crowley, Headmage of Night Raven College."

You stood there in silent disbelief at the sheer audacity he had, though in the silence that followed, you swore you heard a shaky sigh coming from behind the parchment.

"This would be so much easier if you had just decided I wasn't worth forgiving the first time I attempted to take over your dorm." He groaned softly, now hiding his face in folded arms against his desk as the letter from the headmage drifted to the floor.

"Oh so it's my fault for being nice that you can't take over what's been my home since I've gotten here?" Azul shook his head, sitting up, but rubbing his face with his hand, still adamant on not showing you his real emotions on the matter, before sighing and looking down, his voice wavering.

"....it's your fault that I need you as badly as I do....it's your fault that I've come to look forward to your daily visits...it's your fault that I get up in the morning and look in the mirror, and instead of thinking about how vile I am I remember the things you've said to me that make me smile...it's your fault that there's no way I could take over Ramshackle now that the place has sentimental value to me, as ridiculous as it seems to me, the memories we made far outweigh the economic benefits, and it's your fault I think of it that way."

He refused to look up, even as the soft tap of your shoes on the floor approached his desk, taking a seat across from him.

"I can take the blame for all that...but know that you're at fault too...because it's all your fault...that I'm staying here."

Jade

You had found him in the greenhouse, attending his beloved mushrooms when you dropped the boot on him. He debated for a moment, whether it would be worth it to make you eat one, or to put you to sleep, or otherwise incapacitate you for a short amount of time to give himself more time to process and enforce one of many long term plans he had to keep you here. He mulled over the possibilities rather numbly... in a world where had been taught ruthlessness and that only the fittest would survive, you had been that small sliver of mercy he'd come to love and appreciate. He thought he had done a fairly good job showing you what you meant to him as well, with a constant influx of shiny rocks he found on hikes, or petrified wood, or otherwise sharing his interests and listening to yours. He had shown you that he understood what you had taught him to be a little more comfortable with - vulnerability. So why were you trying to tear him apart now? Was this just another cruel lesson in fate?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he failed to realize how long silence sat in the air after your announcement. He only snapped back to reality as your hands wrapped around him, your face against the back of his lab coat as you shuddered and sobbed.

"Please, Jade, if I go I'm gonna miss you, don't ignore me right now....please just...at least acknowledge I'll be gone."

He pulled your hands away from him gently, initially causing you more distress until he pulled you close to him again, your chest pressed against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat. His hug was gentle, yet felt all-encompassing as he kept his voice low, as if he was afraid anyone else would hear, despite the two of you being the only ones around.

"I would miss you too. So if you must go, promise you'll spend one more day with me before you leave."

A relieved sob left you as you clung to him weakly.

"I can do you one better."

He smiled, rocking you gently side to side, glad that he wouldn't have to risk betraying your trust to keep you there with him.

Floyd

You caught him right after basketball practice, high on life from the endorphin rush he was on. You hated to potentially put a damper on his mood, but you needed him to know. However, he had just laughed off your announcement, trying to walk away from you.

"Floyd please, I need you to listen, I'm being serious."

Floyd stopped in his tracks, just sighing tiredly and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't matter. You're not going anywhere."

"But the headmage finally-"

"NO!...Who gives a fuck what the headmage's done, he ain't done shit for you since you arrived, you worked your ass off, lived in a shitty little house, dealt with crazy magic users and barely got paid your worth! But through all that, y'stayed. Things are better now. Just...just stay 'nd enjoy it with the people who care 'bout'chya k? I ain't lettin' you go back until you've at least had a vacation, k? It's your turn to get a happy endin...and you can't lie to me and say that's back in whatever timeline you're from cuz....cuz you told me once that I make ya happy...." His expression had been manic and angry at first, but as his rant came to an end, he looked like he was close to tears.

You couldn't help and smile a tiny bit, moving to hug him, though he met you half way, and the two of you crumpled to the ground as he found ways to wrap around you that you didn't think were humanly possible...but it made you feel safe, secure as you nuzzled into him.

"Just stay ok...I'll talk to the headmage for ya...but don't leave me, ok?...I gotta see ya smile til your cheeks hurt one day."

Scarabia

Kalim

When you had let him know you were coming over, he had asked Jamil to set up a small platter for the two of you to share. At first, he had just whined a bit - why were you going back to Ramshackle so soon? You just got to his dorm, now you wanted to leave? You'd at least take some snacks with you, right?

You sighed a bit, before trying again.

"Kalim...the headmage...has found a way for me to go home home." There was a beat of silence between the two of you, before the boy became a sniveling mess across from you, quickly devolving into full blown bawling as he all but launched himself at you, hugging you around your waist as tears started to soak the fabric of your shirt. He was near incomprehensible, though the message was fairly clear in his sobbing that he wasn't ready to let you go, and he'd do anything to keep you with him.

Jamil

He was busy cooking in the kitchen, enjoying your company, though it was clear you had something on your mind. He didn't pry, but eventually it came out. He just kept working, glad that he had prepared for this day to come.

"Well if you want me to wish you well and see you off, then I suppose now's a good a time as any to say goodbye." He barely glanced over his shoulder, giving you a subtle nod. "Goodbye."

It stung more than you expected it to, but at least he had been decisive, and made it easier for you to walk away from everything. He watched as you got up from your seat and walked towards the door, looking rather sad. He sighed a bit, wiping his hands off on a cloth.

"Did you really think leaving was going to be that easy? You know too much about me. You're not going anywhere. Follow me."

The apparent switch up in attitude had you hopeful and curious as he led you to his room, unlocking the door, then unlocking a small drawer at his desk, pulling out papers, which at a glance, had your name on them.

"I figured since you've shut down any conversation of your personal life at home, the only reason you'd ever want to return would want to return there was because of the financial stability you may have had, and the idea of needing financial assistance was daunting or embarrassing, same with getting your citizenship and passport for Twisted Wonderland. But I've gone ahead and pulled a few strings and made deals with some of Kalim's aunties. Now....you've got a deed to a home once you graduate, you have health insurance, you have a citizenship from Scalding Sands, and a passport from Scalding Sands."

He stacked each wad of paper in your hands as he explained them, before looking rather smug and booping your nose.

"Of course, if you still plan to leave I could just hypnotize you."

Pomefiore

Vil

You had gone to him to his room, sat on his bed and just watched him paint his nails at his vanity. He could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of you, but he had the time, so he waited until you told him yourself rather than pressing you. He could hear the way your breath trembled, uneven gasps for air that you tried to keep under control as he just shook his head.

"Do I really need to tell you how all this is going to play out?" His icy violet eyes locked onto your startled ones in the mirror, as you tried to wipe any evidence of crying away from your face. You were confused, and conflicted, making Vil's face soften just the smallest bit as he redirected his gaze and attention to his nails.

"You tell me you want to go. As your friend, I'll support you in what would make you happiest, though I'm not going to tell you what would make you happiest, that's for you to decide. You'll go back to Ramshackle, start packing your things, still second guessing yourself. It won't be until you're in front of the mirror and the gravity of the situation hits you that there's no way for you to come back that you'll finally tell Crowley you'd like to stay..."

He finally turns around to look you face to face.

"So skip the song and dance, come to terms with the fact you'd like to stay, and I'll speak to the headmage on your behalf to inform him you'll be staying as long as you damn well please."

He had more conviction in both his expression and tone than you had heard before, and you certainly hadn't heard him cuss in any meaning of the word. It only took a moment longer of searching his expression to see the emotion behind the mask he was wearing was fear.

You couldn't help but sniffle and rub at your eyes a bit, nodding and laughing through your tears a bit.

"You're right. You always are. Thank you."

Visible relief, though subtle, was clear on Vil's face, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"Really now, did you think I was just going to let you walk out of my life like that? Absolutely not."

Rook

Rook had seen you leave the headmage's office looking incredibly upset, so moments later he fell into step beside you in silence. Without saying a word, the two of you headed in the direction of the woods, cutting through paths Rook had taught you to see until you reached a small clearing, a place Rook had shown you as his safe haven. The two of you had been laying silently on the grass, only broken by the sound of you beginning to cry as you confessed the reason you were upset.

He moved to hold you close immediately, letting you turn towards him as he gently rubbed your back and let you cry.

"Why are you letting this rest on you so heavily, mon trickster, when it's clear the thought of leaving is causing you so much distress...why would you want to go to the one place where I could not hope to follow you?"

He took your hand gently, placing it on his chest over his heart. "If you left, my heart may explode. You can feel it racing now....the thought of being without you may be too much for even me to handle...and you know I can take much more than I show." He bumped his head against yours lightly, not unlike a cat as he closed his eyes.

"Please...I can only handle so much heartache...stay where I can reach you..."

Epel

He ran into you quite literally, trying to make it back to Pomefiore after spell drive practice in time to avoid Vil's rant on punctuality. However, when he registered you were crying rather than laughing the impact off, he was worried he had hurt you more than he had gotten hurt himself, checking in on you anxiously until you let it spill.

His immediate reaction was like that of a toddler, a very determined expression as he just went "Nuh-uh."

It was enough to shock you out of both the pain you were in and to make you laugh a little incredulously, causing your tears to stop flowing for a moment.

"W...what?"

Epel's expression only deepened, though it was a little difficult to take him seriously.

"I said, nu-uh. You ain't goin' nowhere, not if I got anythin' t'say on the matter, y'hear? Your family's here, your friends are here an' the headmage can't do shit if y'up 'n' tell'm off for tryna send ya home just cuz it makes him feel better he finally kept a goddamn promise, no way, nu-uh, that ain't flyin' with me!" He huffed and grabbed your wrist gently.

"Now come on, you get to to be the one to tell Vil why I'm late."

Ignihyde

Idia

Usually, you would just sit in Idia's room, enjoying each other's company in silence as you did your own things. You had a keycard to his room, and he would get a chime in his headphones that let him know it was you coming in. To him, nothing was amiss as silence hung between the two of you for nearly two hours, though his headphone was slightly offset his ear in case you needed anything.

So when you all but whimpered "I can't do this anymore" his headphones all but flew off his head as he whirled around his chair to face you, confused and off put by your tone until you told him what was wrong.

He just paused, before a wide grin spread across his face, slightly manic.

"What you think I'd just let you leave? Just 'oh Idia, I can go home now so goodbye forever', you seriously think I'm going to let you walk away? You're my closest IRL friend, and I've....I've lost enough already, I'm not letting you make me loose again." He laughed, but it was pained as he pushed back his hair, trying to calm down and failing as he stood up and started pacing.

"You're....you can't be serious, right? You're just gonna leave? Did I do finally do something wrong? Wrong enough that you want to be sent to another timeline where I don't exist, where our friendship doesn't exist, like this was all for nothing?!" He stopped and looked at you, hurt and distressed, his voice shaky and small.

"....was it all for nothing?"

His intensity wasn't anything new, but it had never been directed at you specifically. The ends of his hair were flared up and tinted orange, but his expression was nothing but pleading until you burst into tears again, apologizing and promising you'd stay.

Ortho

He knew exactly why you'd been called into the headmage's office, and was waiting for you as you stepped out of the room, only to take your hand and drag you right back in, first, angry whirring leaving him, before he settled enough to say anything that you and the headmage could understand.

"How dare you! You can't make them feel like they don't have a choice, just because it gives you a sense of doing something right doesn't mean it is! You're gonna let them stay or I'm leaking the security cam footage of what you do in your office all day- then it'll really be confirmed that you're nothing but a useless pile of-"

"Ortho-"

His head whipped around at your warning tone, eyes wide. "What?....I was gonna say crap, not the other word."

You couldn't help the small chuckle that left you before Crowley spoke up.

"Now there's no need for all those threats Ortho-"

Ortho's attention whipped back to the headmage, and in the blink of an eye his face was directly in front of Dire's, uncomfortably close as two sets of slightly glowing yellow eyes focused on each other.

"Don't you even think about trying to send my sibling away again...or the security cam footage is going to be the least of your worries."

Diasomnia (sorry, Malleus and Lilia lovers this is the best I got rn)

Malleus

Nope. You've either read chapter 7, you're reading through chapter 7, or you will read chapter 7. Sorry, he's just as you'd expect him to be. (read as: I think writing this out will feel tedious and boring and I'll loose motivation in these last few characters because bro is the most predictable dude ever)

Lilia

It hadn't been difficult to find him - in fact, when you got to Ramshackle, he had helped himself to some rather questionable looking hot chocolate and was sitting on your couch, patting the space beside him, smiling a bit.

"From what I understand, you've got plenty to think about. They say all good things must come to an end, but if you're writing the story, why not add a few more chapters where you're happiest?"

Silver

You had found him napping under one of the trees on campus, surrounded by furry little friends as per usual. You made yourself at him, laying next to him with your head on his shoulder, just watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as you snuggled your friend for what felt like could be the last time. You weren't sure how much time had passed until a sharp inhale signaled he was waking up, snapping you out of your own dissociation. The familiar weight of you on his arm just made him give you a gentle squeeze as he woke up, softly greeting you, taking a moment to listen to his animal friends, then asking you what was wrong as he pulled you a little closer, turning towards you and placed his hand behind your head protectively.

Upon hearing what was bothering you, he shook his head a bit, and many of the critters that were around the two of you found ways to cuddle the both of you. With how much you were crying, it was only fair that they were concerned.

"Don't go home...clearly you're not happy...if the headmage is trying to force you to return home, tell him that you consider this world your home. Or Ramshackle...or Briar Valley...if you just say the word, I can ask fa- Lilia to start getting you a citizenship...then you'll not only be registered in Briar Valley...but we both know that Malleus would never let any of his citizens suffer either...and disobeying a direct order from fae royalty would put Crowley in a bad position." He hummed and pulled you a little closer. "Besides...without you, I'll only ever wake up to Sebek for the rest of my life...I adore him like a brother, but I admit I prefer your method of rousing me from slumber." It was subtle, but you could tell he tried to inject humour into his tone as he sighed deeply, but stayed tense until you gently played with his hair, tears starting to roll down your cheeks as you nodded and agreed - both to finding your place in this world permanently in Briar Valley...and as Silver's designated waker-upper.

Sebek

He had seen you while he was on his horse, excitedly riding over when he saw you wave, though as he got closer, your expression seemed less and less happy to see him. You wished he had waited until he was in front of you to ask what was wrong, but as you expected, as soon as he noticed something was amiss, his voice boomed across the field between the two of you, his poor horse startling some. It took him a moment to get control of his horse once more, before he managed to make it to you, hopping down and holding onto the reins tightly as he looked at you expectantly for an answer.

"WHAT DID THE HEADMAGE SAY TO YOU?!"

Both you and his poor horse flinched and startled, but Sebek scooped you up, mounting his horse easily with you in front of him, boxed in and secure in his arms as he was set and determined, heading towards the main school building, though when you looked back at his face, the trails of a few tears were clear on his cheeks.

"If the headmage's mind will not be changed, then we must inform Malleus. He will ensure you stay here with m- us. With us."

Extra (pretend you didn't say anything to him yet lol)

Grim

You had been sitting in Ramshackle for a while, the headmage's words eating away at you like acid, leaving you in a dissociative state on the couch. You were so out of it, so caught up in your feelings, that when Grim finally came home after messing around with some of the first years, you immediately felt your heart drop as he very gently, very concerned looking, put his paw on your arm, checking in on his favourite hench human.

"Y'look like you're gonna c- MYAH!" You couldn't help but pull the cat into your arms, your whole body curling around him as you cried softly into the bow on his back. He squirmed around, fighting to face you as he gently held your face in his paws, looking kinda mad. "Who made ya cry, huh?! Tell me and I'll light'em up! Nobody messes with my hench human!"

You couldn't help the half laugh, half sob that left you as you just gently bumped your head against Grim's.

"Nothing you have to worry about Grim...I'm just...um...I'm really glad to have you in my life." You offered him a small smile as he tilted his head, bumping you back softly as his tail swished curiously.

"I..I mean I am too, but that doesn't tell me why you're cryin'!" He rubbed his face against yours again, trying to dry your tears,

"The headmage was gonna try and send me home...but I'm not...I'm not going to do it." Grim looked shocked for a moment, before more aggressively snuggling against you, purring.

"Good...cuz even if you did go home, ya couldn't get rid of me that easily!...I'd come with you!"

You laughed softly, mostly in shock and shook your head. "There's no magic back home...or talking animals...I'm not sure that would be the best idea."

He looked sad for a moment, curling up in your hold more so you wouldn't see his face. "Yeah but...you're all I got...so anywhere you go, I'll go...no matter what.

-------------------------------------------------------- I hated this the longer I wrote it but it wasn't until I was like at Vil that I started to get unhappy so I decided to say fuck it and just stick to it anyways. Yes I've been procrastinating hw shut up. Love you.

[thoutisashark]

Accidental Courtship :3

Accidental courtship

ft: Savanaclaw, Octavinella

cw: possible minor spelling errors (blame the dyslexia), established relationship, swearing, implied fem reader

Penguins have this adorable courtship ritual where the male gives the female a smooth pebble, if the female is impressed by the pebble she accepts the gift and mates with the male

I know that jade, Floyd, and Azul aren't penguins, but i thought it would be so cute if their s/o gave them a pebble and basically proposed but not knowing what it meant.

And for the beast-men (Leona, Jack, Ruggie) i thought it would be cute if there was a special beast-men way of courtship, I couldn't think of anything though, but then i remembered that for a lot of mammals (and animals in general) grooming is a form of bonding, so what if licking was a form of courtship?!?!

ENJOY

Savanaclaw

Leona: he awoke from his nap when he felt a pair of hands running through his hair, he sniffed the air, realizing it was just his s/o he closed his eyes once again, surrendering to the comforting feeling of your hands, he hated to admit it but he loved when you played with his hair, it was something he looked forward to and expected. what he didn't expect however was the sudden wet feeling that graced his cheek his eyes shot open and his head snapped in your direction

"so soon? at least wait till we graduate"

your so confused, he realizes that you probably dont know what you just did

"for beast-men, your lick was you asking me to marry you you dumb herbivore"

he wont admit it but his heart was pounding in his chest

Jack: he had finished his classes for the day and was walking around the campus grounds, when he spotted you his tail started to wag a bit, he attempted to stop, annoyed that he was giving away how he felt. he walked over to you, he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him you smiled up at him, kissing his cheek, he smiled at you and walked with you to the ramshackle dorm, you guys sat in the guest room you had been working on you had been pretty bored all day and wanted to do something to make you laugh, why not lick your boyfriend see what his silly reaction would be, little did you know the implications behind this supposedly innocent action. as soon as your tongue brushed his cheek he was off to sofa and staring at you in shock, he moved so fast that your tongue was still hanging out of you mouth

"i-im not ready"

his voice was shaky and his tail was wagging at a super sonic spread

"i mean you need to meet my parents and my siblings, and i dont have any money, i mean were still in high school, marriage is a very large leap"

you were so fucking confused Marriage? when you asked what he was talking about he looked at you confused

"you licked me... you want to marry me...right?"

you blushed and told him that in your world its just a weird thing to do. he sighed in

"so no marriage then, good, i love you but im not ready for that yet... try again in a few years"

he winked, his tail giving away his feelings

Ruggie: you had gotten some powdered donuts from Sam's store earlier and you were super excited to eat them, you rushed to your dorm hoping to avoid the food thief you called a boyfriend but it was useless, he could probly smell them from 3 miles away, he saw you running smelt the sweet scent of donuts and took off after you, he caught up quickly, snatching the box from you hands

"watcha got here shihihi"

he held the box out of your reach and took a donut out, he quickly shoved it into his mouth as you pouted, you loved him to death but god was he annoying sometimes you noticed how he had gotten some of the powdered sugar on his nose and an idea of revenge sprung into your mind, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to you

"you gonna kiss me~" he teased you, he wrapped an arm around you resting a hand on the small of your back while his other held the donut box.

you licked his nose, he tensed up, his eyes widened and he stumbled back almost falling over

"i-i dont- i mean-" he turned around, he grabbed his ears and pressed them down, trying to calm himself down, he had never felt so flustered before, but could you blame him? his s/o just asked for his hand in marriage "i accept but... so soon?"

you looked at him confused, he took a moment, realizing that what is a marriage proposal for beast-men might not be the same for humans, but everyone was aware of the tradition, then it clicked, you weren't from here, you had no idea what you had just done. his blush was still there, and to be honest he was dissipated, he licked you cheek "that is a proposal for marriage" he admits, looking away embarrassed, he shoved the donut box back into your hands and quickly walked away mumbling a quick "i love you" his tail was small, but it was wagging as he zoomed away from you.

Octavinelle (penguin esc courtship)

Floyd: he hated working at the cafe, it was so boring, why would he work when he could be with his little shrimpy? he found you outside of the ramshackle dorm, you were on your hands and knees digging round a pile of rocks

"shrimpy~" he lifted you up and hugged you from behind "what are you doing?"

he asked, examining the rocks you held in your hands, you didn't answer, instead you picked on of the rocks you had and handed it to him, it was smooth, and had a faint blue undertone to it, he squealed and snatched it out of your hand, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you till you felt like you were about to burst, he kissed you passionately before skipping off to tell his brother and Azul, you just stood there, confused as to why your boyfriend was so happy about the rock you gave him, i mean sure it was cool but was it that exciting for him? a couple hours later there was a knock on the door to the ramshackle dorm, you opened the door and say Floyd standing there frowning slightly

"do you know what a rock means"

you shook your head and you swear it looked like he was about to cry

"so you weren't asking me to marry you?"

you shook your head again, now understanding why he was so upset, you hugged him and kissed his cheek promising him to marry him one day, as soon as he heard that he was happy again, hugging and squeezing you all night long.

Jade: he was observing the mushroom he was growing, they had a strange mutation that he hadn't seen before and was eager to study, he was writing down the differences and comparing them to known mutations when suddenly you burst into his room clenching something in your hand, he turned to you smiling at you, he closed his mushroom guide and walked over to you, kissing your forehead and ruffling your hair, you hold out your hand and show a small smooth rock to him, he blushed, hugging you tightly

"are you aware of what your asking me?" he asked, his voice shacking lightly as he hugged you tighter, part of him wished you meant what mer-people mean when they give rocks, but he knows you arent used to the tradtions and culture in this world

he pulled away slightly and when he saw your confused face he smiled sadly "in merfolk culture you asked me to marry you" he chuckled as you blushed "i want to be the one to give you the rock dear" he mumbled into your hair he pulled away caressing your face before picking you up and taking you to the couch to cuddle.

Azul: he was in his office doing paper work and for the cafe, he was stressed, his hand was starting to cramp from the amout of writing he had been doing. the door to his office opened and you entered, his eyes lit up as he say you, your presence always made him feel better.

"hello my love"

he smiled at you softly, he open his arms for a hug and you wasted no time crawling into his lap and hugging him tightly, he kissed your shoulder, you reached into your pocket and handed him a pretty rock you had found earlier, his faced flushed with a blush

"m-my love? i- i mean y-yes ill marry you, but at least meat my family first, do you have a venue in mind? a dress? i can help you look- wait your not proposing? oh... you dont know do you"

as disappointed as he was that he wasn't going to marry you he chuckled and laughed

"my beloved your little rock was a proposal of marriage"

he smirked at you, watching as you face as you realized what you had done, he kissed you shoulder and cheek again

"just know love.... i will say yes, i will always say yes to you"

a couple days later when you walk into his office you she the rock you gave him on the shelf behind his desk, it was in a glass container, when you asked Azul all he said was

"its special to me, i wish to keep it forever"

End notes:

i had no idea what to do for leona and i think its pretty obvious, but i had fun writing this! its my first time writing for twst characters and i think i did ok... i hope

I am accepting requests :)

[mariasont]

Ideas From a Book - A.H

a/n: im writing what i want !!!!!!!!!!!!! i have a gun kink SUE ME !!! if you don't like it don't read it !!!!!!!

anyhow HAPPY READING

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch comes home to find you reading and finds out you have a gun kink

warnings: 18+ MDNI, a lot going on here yall idk, gun going in ur vag, reader loves smut she's just like me fr, gun kink!, dirty talk, established relationship, yada yada

wc: 2.3k

When Hotch returned home from work, the ritual he had was comforting in its predictability: shedding his coat and shoes, setting down his briefcase, and locking up his gun. Then, he'd find you, as he always did, nestled into the couch, book in hand. 

It was something he could count on, as reliable as the sun rising in the morning. Your bookshelf was a spectrum of genres--science fiction, poetry, mystery, historical, fantasy--name it, you've likely read it. Among these, he had noticed a trend--your favoritism for romance. It was fitting, as you've always been an ardent believer in fairytales and happy endings. It was a belief he intended to uphold, a fairytale ending he was set on creating for you. 

The book you held today had a cover he didn't recognize. He cleared his throat, announcing his arrival. Your eyes met his in an instant, and he was struck anew by just how pretty you are. Effortlessly so. He told you as much, though you seldom accepted the compliment. 

"Hi, handsome," you said, infusing your words with honey as you folded the corner of your page and laid the book aside. Spencer would scold you for that. "How was work?"

A shrug rolled off his shoulders, fingers working to loosen the tie that felt like a noose after a long day. Stepping further into the living room, he sighed, "Heavy with paperwork."

"That's no fun," you said, lips curving into a delicate pout. 

It was an invitation he couldn't ignore. Leaning in, his hands found your face, and as your lips met, you giggled, pulling back just enough to study his face, the harsh lines under his eyes, reading the fatigue on his features like a well-thumbed novel. 

"What are you reading?" he questioned, easing down next to you, the couch dipping to his weight. 

You dodged his eyes, fingers absently fidgeting with your earlobe as you gave him a half-smile, tilting the book just enough so he couldn't catch the title.  

"Just some romance book," you admitted, with a slight uptick in your voice. "Garcia recommended it."

He regarded you with a contemplative frown. Normally, a book you would have gone on for hours, detailing every character, plot twist, and subplot, dissecting its layers and intricacies in exhaustive detail. 

Aaron watched as you placed the book on the side table, movements deliberate. You positioned yourself across his lip, a seemingly innocent distraction. It almost worked. Your soft thighs sinking into his calloused hands, as if they were crafted just for him. He recognized your ploy, though, giving your leg a squeeze a little tighter than necessary. 

You leaned in, your breath tinged with the minty traces of your afternoon tea, a detail as intimate as any secret shared between lovers. He nipped at your lip, a gentle diversion, as his hand crept towards the book.

You wriggled in his hold, vying to get there first, but he was faster. Much faster at that, although you loved to challenge him on that. He secretly loved when you did. He loved you. 

"What are you doing?" Your voice was rising in a panicked pitch. You stretched your hand out, trying to reclaim it, but he kept it just beyond reach.

Aaron's arm formed a band around you, effectively pinning your arms to your torso while you writhed within his grasp. A groan was stifled in his throat. "Quit that."

You smiled, a hint of tease in the curve of your lips and stilled. You were acutely aware of the effect you had on him, and it was a feat achieved with little effort. 

"Why are you being so secretive about this?"

He nodded to the book. The cover was unassuming, black with a smattering of designs that sprawled across it. It looked like any other book you read.

"I'm not being secretive," you insisted, deliberately avoiding his probing gaze. "You're just being nosy."

"Oh, am I?" He couldn't help but laugh, nose crinkling as he dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.

You nodded, not saying anything in response. He thumbed through the book, opening it to a random page.

"Wait--," you pleaded, but his attention was already glued to the ink. You wrapped yourself around him, your face buried in the folds of his crisp dress shirt as you murmured into the fabric, "please don't."

His arm shifted from your waist to cradle the back of your neck. "Gasping at the cool metal of the gun running across my belly, I want him press it into my panties."

Your breath caught, warmth flooding your cheeks as you pressed your face deeper into his chest. "Aaron, stop."

But he didn't, of course, he was far too intrigued.

"Parting my legs, I roll into the metal. He runs it back and forth across my pussy, wetting it against the barrel to my entrance," He continued, wetting the pad of his thumb as he turned the page, eyes meeting yours. 

He cocked an eyebrow as if waiting for your response. You didn't give him one, huffing a sigh as you plucked the book from his hands and flung it onto the cushions of the couch.

"Are you...into this?" He articulated each word with deliberate slowness, as if navigating a minefield. "This is a little intense."

You groan, tucking your chin down to your chest as you fought against the tingling sensation clawing up your spine.

"I don't know." The words tumbled out in a murmur, a feeble shield against the embarrassment flooding your senses.

It was the truth. You didn't know. Ink on a page was a far cry from reality. Nonetheless, your recent daydreams were filled with images of Aaron with his gun. God, forbid you see him on duty.

He shifted you off his lap, and you felt the corners of your mouth turn downward involuntarily. You watched his retreating figure vanish down the hall, your thoughts racing at breakneck speed, gripped by the fear that you had scared him off, that this was his tipping point.

The welling tears were poised to fall, but they paused as he came back into view. Holding his gun.

Your breath halted, a knot forming in your throat as you clumsily rose to your knees on the couch, your eyes wide and transfixed on him.

You watched, more like ogled, as he methodically removed the magazine, opening the action and ejecting the cartridges of the gun, putting the safety into place. Your throat felt dry. His advance towards you was predatory, a slow march that rekindled a well-known flutter in your stomach.

"Aaron?"

He stepped in front of you, the firearm dangling loosely at his side. You gazed up at him, peering through the shelter of your lashes.

"Do you want me to fuck you with this?"

You knew you said you didn't know if this was something you were into, yet here you were, retracting every syllable. Suddenly so incredibly turned on it almost hurt.

You nodded vigorously, your enthusiasm outpacing your self-awareness.

The look he gave you was one you recognized instantly, eliciting yet another soft pout before you gave in. "Yes, please, Aaron."

"Good girl," he said, making your heart skip a beat as he pressed the nose of the gun into your chest, forcing you backward. "Always so good for me."

You nodded again, even though there was no need to, but you weren't really focused on his words. You were focused on the gun pressing into your body, imagining it pressed against your clit, up your pussy.

"You're sure, um," you managed, trying to catch your breath, pausing in the middle of your sentence to clear your throat, "that all the safety stuff is on?"

You sounded dumb, you were aware, but all intellectual thoughts were out the window.

He let out a deep chuckle, the sound sending another wave of desire straight to your core. "Yes, baby, all of the safety stuff is on."

"Okay, good."

He pressed his lips to yours, the gun still flush against your chest, now grazing your nipple as you arched into him.

He pulled back only enough to speak into your mouth. "What's your safe word?"

"Mercy."

He hummed in response, fingers threading through your hair as he pushed the barrel of the gun down your stomach. You froze, a subtle gap forming between your lips as your eyes remained locked on the motion.

He brought his mouth to your ear, nipping at the skin lightly as he pushed the metal further down your body, lifting the hem of your shirt with it. You gasped at the feeling, pulling your bottom lip through your teeth as you tried to hide just how affected you were.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." It was immediate. Without hesitation.

He kissed your lips, gentle and unhurried, as if he was savoring the sensation, like he thought I might crumble under too much pressure. He might be right.

"Take these off."

His gun pressed against the waistband of your shorts. You didn't waste a second, lifting your hips and shimmying out of the fabric. A sound of approval vibrated from his throat, his fingers entwining in your hair, gently drawing your face closer to his.

"Are you sure about this?"

A nod came naturally, followed by a yes breathed out like a prayer, as your eyes trailed down to in between your thighs where the gun was now sitting. 

"Aaron, I need it."

"Oh, you need it, huh?" He tsked his tongue, running the nose of the gun over your clothed heat. "I can tell."

You let out a sharp gasp, bucking your hips into the device as you met his eyes, willing him to keep going. You had never been more turned on in your life. His hand moved from your neck to the small of your waist, pinning you in place. With one hand. Fuck.

He laid the gun beside your hip on the couch in order to pull your panties off. You squirmed at the rush of cold air encompassing between your thighs. His eyes were glued to your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe across his lips.

"Christ sweetheart," he hissed, sliding one finger through your slit, showing you the moisture you had produced. "Needy girl."

"Aaron, please." You needed something inside of you.

He laughed, at your expense, but you didn't care, concentrated on his hand grabbing the Glock and repeating the action his finger just did.

You choked out a sound, stuttering against the touch. He in a merciful mood apparently, pushing the gun slowly into your sopping cunt. You were writhing against it, your mouth parted as you tried to get used to the foreign object.

"You okay?" He asked, pausing his motions, giving you a second to adjust.

You swallowed; gaze drawn down to where he was sliding the gun into you. You bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Yes."

"You can take it," he said, but the way the firearm was stretching you made you unsure.

It wasn't the size necessarily, but the way the groves and magazine were cramming into you was making hold your breath, which him being him he noticed immediately.

His hand rested gently against the pouch of your stomach. "Breathe."

The pent-up breath escaped your lips, and he rewarded you by sinking the gun further into your pussy. You fingers wrapped around his biceps, the tips digging slightly into the constellation of freckled skin.

One final thrust and it was fully in you. You could feel every groove and contour of it, cunt clenching and unclenching at the sensation. 

"Look at you," he drawled, beginning to fuck you with it. It transcended the prose of any book, a sensation that no array of printed words could fully capture. "You like that?"

Nodding was your only recourse, mouth hanging pathetically open as you moaned and whined. You were in a daze-like state, every sound and motion involuntary.

"This is the Glock 17," he explained, thrusting the gun faster, causing you to tighten your hands around his neck, bringing him so close his words were melting into your skin. "It feeds from a staggered-column magazine that has a 17-round capacity. It sends 115 gr bullets downrange at about 1200 feet per second."

You could feel your arousal leaking to your thighs, coating his forearm in the process, but that would never stop him.

"This gun has taken the lives of nineteen unsubs."

You know this should make you coil away, that it should feel wrong somehow, but all you felt was that growing tightness in your core, your legs shaking, your chest rising and falling at a more rapid pace.

"You don't even care, do you? All you care about is getting yourself off." His chuckles wove through his words, and his motions didn't falter, intent of ushering you to your peak. "My dirty girl."

You were so close, the edges of the gun managing to hit every spot just right.

"Come on, honey."

Fuck. You let out another strangled gasp, way louder than intended as your back arched like a string of a bow, and then suddenly you released.

A prism of colors exploded behind your squeezed eyes. A collage of musical notes falling over your ears. Your whole body was being ignited as you gushed around the gun.

"Christ." His new favorite word as of late. He withdrew the weapon from you.

You let out a subdued hum, propping yourself on your elbows, your eyes lazily rising to meet his with a tender flutter.

"You're so pretty," he murmured, the compliment settling on you like dew on morning flowers. Your gaze caught the gun, now bathed in a liquid gloss, cradled in his hands.

"Oh my god," you said, hand covering your mouth.

He laughed softly, placing it on the coffee table before his lips brushed against yours, a soft and measured caress that belied his previous urgency.

"You might need a new one," you said sheepishly, heat creeping into your ears as he pressed another soft kiss to your cheek.

"Absolutely not," he murmured into your flushed skin. "It just became my gun of choice."

You were going to give him the best head of his life.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[decayedgloria]

sundress szn

ft. Capitano, Dottore, Columbina, and Arlecchino

Summer’s finally come, so you decide to wear something that fit the occasion- much to your lover’s excitement.

Tags: First 4 harbingers x afab!reader (minus Pierro and Pulcinella), nsfw under cut, established relationships, Capitano may be ooc bc we have nothing on this man lmao, mdni

Word count: ~2.2K, not proofread

Capitano

Capitano was ever the hard worker. If he wasn’t in his office at Zapolyarny Palace, then he was off fighting in the name of the Tsaritsa, far away from your home in Snezhnaya. Naturally, you miss him dearly- and clearly he had observed how you seem to linger around him more often when he’s around, or how much more clingy and desperate you’ve become in bed. Arranging for a short trip to Natlan, his home nation, you had hoped to reclaim the time you lost with your husband.

The climate in Natlan was drastically different from Snezhnaya. It was warm all year round, and this time it happened to be particularly hotter than any other season. You had packed clothes accordingly, though it was hard as weather like that never shows itself in the coldest nation in Teyvat. Though there was one piece you purchased that caught your attention, and you knew for sure your husband would absolutely love it on you.

Capitano sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for you to get ready. His hands found themselves fiddling with the hem of the loose linen shirt he donned, which appeared to be tight on his massive, defined body, though he did not mind. He was proud of his physique, even more so at the fact you seemed almost obsessed with his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Chuckling to himself, Capitano finds it hard to resist you, his little wife.

“Dear, are you ready? We have the whole day ahead of us.” Capitano called out. You shuffled around in the bathroom, putting on the final touches of your makeup and making sure everything is in place before you emerge. Immediately, his eyes were on you- more specifically, the garment that you had chosen to wear. It was a sundress, of course. It was sheer, but not so much that it didn’t cover anything. It was perfect for the hot weather, especially its length, or lack thereof. Barely reaching over your ass, in fact.

Somewhat shyly, you give a little twirl in front of your husband. “Do you think this outfit is okay? I wasn’t sure it was my size so…” He had foregone his mask for the day, which gave away to his surprised face, blushing and staring as if he was hungry.

“You look amazing, my dear.” As you turn back to face Capitano, you were suddenly greeted with your husband’s chest. Leaning down, he places his large hands on your hips, giving them a light squeeze that illicited a giggle from you. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your tantalizing scent and grinning as you pull him closer towards you. 

“Irresistible, in fact. I think this is just the right size for you.” His voice was low, almost muffled as he placed light kisses on your skin. You sigh, running your fingers through his long hair, traveling lower onto his chest and then feeling the familiar shape beginning to form in your husband’s pants. You almost laughed when Capitano groaned at your touch, who unconsciously moved closer to you to relieve himself some.

“I thought we had plans for today?” Your honeyed voice only added to his increasingly needy gestures. He couldn’t help but let his hands roam across your body, touching and squeezing at your curves through the dress. Your small stature, so soft against his, in a dress that accentuated everything he loved about you…

Well, he did say that you both had the whole day, so why not spare a few more hours together?

Dottore

As his lovely lab assistant and partner, Dottore decided to bring you along with him to an expedition in Sumeru to collect some sample for his latest research endeavor. At first, you were hesitant and a bit confused as to why he didn’t just send one of his clones or subordinates to go fetch it instead, but he had insisted that the sample was of “utmost importance” and that only he would be able to verify its integrity, whatever that meant.

So that’s how you found yourself in the sweltering desert heat, sitting in a tent that barely blocked out the sun. Your sweat had drenched your clothing since the early morning, so a change of attire was in order. As you sift through your belongings, you groaned as you realized you’d only been packed clothes that the Fatui deemed “suitable” for Snezhnayan summers- that is, clothes that were still too thick to wear. 

You sigh as your eyes scan the room for another solution, stopping at the shopping bag you had left on your desk. The little free time you had before entering the desert was spent shopping around Port Ormos, in which you had purchased a dress you thought was cute. You weren’t expecting to wear it so soon, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice…

Dottore worked on his paperwork, writing his report in a different tent from your shared one. Engrossed in his research, he barely noticed your presence enter the tent, nor did he notice the dress that barely clung onto your body. He hummed in response to your greeting, hearing you shuffle around and do the tasks you were assigned. 

It just so happens that the moment Dottore looks up happens to be the same moment you bend over to pick up some books on the floor, much to his wide-eyed pleasure. Your behind was deliciously accentuated in the new garment you wore, barely peeking out of the dress. In a flash, Dottore’s focus was taken away from the papers in his hands and instead was aimed at you, his cute little lab assistant.

With not much noise he rose, making his way over to you in silence as you gather all the books in your hands. You hadn’t noticed your lover’s presence until you feel a firm grip on your hips, suddenly knocking you against Dottore’s familiar legs. You let out something in between a gasp and a sigh as you crane your neck to look at him, slightly embarrassed as you felt his growing erection rub your ass.

“Now, you know I’m a busy man, darling.” Dottore’s husky voice sent a shiver down your spine. “So what’s with the distraction?”

“Look, it’s how outside and this is the only thing I can wear-“ A moan escaped your throat as you felt a sharp smack land on the plush of your behind. He smirked, shushing you as he pressed you closer against him. His hands grew erratic as they clawed at your dress, almost ripping it apart while he touch any and every port of your soft skin.

“A punishment is in order, don’t you think?”

Columbina

You sighed as you walked through the Palace greenhouse, on what seemed like your tenth lap of the day. Columbina had promised to meet you there after meeting with the Tsaritsa, but it had been hours- surely, a meeting wouldn’t take that long would it? 

You gaze dejectedly at the lily flowers by your side, blooming in spite of the coolness outside. The greenhouse felt like summer all year round, allowing for plants like the one you had in your hands to bloom effortlessly every year. It was quite impressive, such a large structure protecting plants from all over Teyvat from Snezhnaya’s cold. 

Given that, it really wouldn’t make sense to wear your normal Fatui uniform here, so you opted for a dress that you hadn’t worn in ages, and clearly it showed: the dress was a little tighter on you than you had remembered, accounting for the muscles you had gained while training, and it certainly was too short to comfortably move in, but the humidity of the room left you little to no choice. 

Your mind was somewhere else when you feel a hand snake around your waist from behind, relaxing when you catch a glimpse of magenta strands from the corner of your eye. Columbina made herself comfortable holding you so, nuzzling into your neck. Her quiet, melodic hums filled the air as you turned to look at your lover, a smile blooming on your face.

“What took you so long, love?” You gently tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear, admiring her beauty. She chuckled, pleasant and light, before burying herself into you once more. 

“The meeting is still going,” she purred, her hands now barely grazing your hips and waist. You blush as you realize what she’s doing, glancing around to make sure there weren’t any idle soldiers or officers. “it was too dreadful. Sneaking out to see my lovely wife was much more important than some trivial talk of war tactics.” Oblivious to your growing panic, Columbina pulls you closer as she moves her lips against your own, smiling gently.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to turn passionate, with gentle pecks now turning into harsh smacks as your tongues worked against each other. With each kiss, your hands clawed at Columbina’s clothes, shredding off layers as her hands tug at your hair. 

Haphazardly, you both managed to find a nearby bench to continue your liaison on more comfortably. As you breathe heavily through your swollen lips, Columbina places herself over you, smiling as she dips down for a kiss one more time.

Arlecchino

Ever since Arlecchino was dispatched to Fontaine by the Tsaritsa, her mind was utterly consumed by you. Not that it normally wasn’t, thoughts of you always permeated her brain one way or another, but at least in Snezhnaya she was able to have you physically there to meet her demands- wether it was an affectionate cuddle or something more intimate, your presence was always just a call away.

However, ever since landing in Fontaine, Arlecchino’s thoughts only consisted of two things: the mission at hand, and you. How she missed the way you would saunter up to her, tease her in a way nobody else would dare, and how your legs would stay quiver and shake around her cheeks every time her tongue explored inside you-

Ah, she was getting carried away again. Arlecchino groaned internally at the paperwork that was placed in front of her, glaring as if it were an enemy. Well, in her mind, anything that kept you away from her was considered an enemy to an extent…

A knock on her office door snapped her out of her thoughts. Sighing, Arlecchino commanded them to come in, placing her chin on her palm, bored as ever. Her face must have conveyed some sort of annoyance as the poor fatui agent that came in visibly shivered a little, lowering their head as they said their greetings.

“What is it?”

“There’s a letter from Senzhnaya, my lady.” She did not miss the quiver in their voice, “It’s from Lady (Y/N).” As the agent reached out to give her the envelope, Arlecchino all but snatched it from their hands, all of her attention now devoted to the piece of paper in front of her.

“Leave.” Her voice left no room for reply, with the agent thankfully getting the hint and scurrying away. Once the heavy doors of her office closed, her ruby eyes inspected the envelope intently, taking in every detail that you may have left her. Just as quickly as she snatched the letter, she opened it, revealing its contents: a neatly folded letter, and what looked like a thin sheet wrapped with something.

She wasted no time in unfolding the letter, taking a note of the way the package smelled just like you- sweet, almost sickening. Her lips curled into a grin as she read the words that danced across the page, her heart leaping at all the praise and sweet nothings you seemed to litter across the paragraphs that you had written. How much you missed her, and yearned for her; all of it made Arlecchino’s head dizzy with pride and delight.

She was too absorbed in reading and rereading your letter that she had forgotten about the other item that you had delivered. Tilting her head, she gathered the thing in her hands gently, taking off the wrapping to reveal a picture taken with a camera- a picture of you, clad in what Arlecchino could only describe as barely a dress. A sheer fabric that did little to conceal your cleavage or your thighs as you pose, somewhat scantily, in a move she was sure was made in order to highlight your curves.

Arlecchino’s fingers subconsciously gripped the photo tighter, a shot of warmth suddenly coursing through her body. She sighed heavily, pink dusting her sheeks as she felt the familiar sensation of aching in between her legs. Tentatively, she took off her gloves and slowly travelled her fingers to the zipper of her pants, breathing growing ragged as she frantically tried to relieve whatever spell you had cast on her.

What a tease.

A/N: here it is! writing this lowkey killed me :,) but i really hope yall liked it. its not full on smut (i dont trust myself to write those with the harbingers just yet for fear of mischaracterization) but its what i can manage. really, im just testing out the waters.

can you guys tell i have a favorite? lol. itll have to be split into two parts since its long enough.

[chososdiscordkitten]

Sub!Choso♡

MDNI

pairing: Choso x gn!Reader Content: no use of y/n or pronouns, beginning is some reassurance to Choso, no intercourse, sub!Choso, softdom!reader, light teasing, guided masturbation, overstimulation, praising, use of sweet boy, good boy, and hon, reach around hand job in the mirror, multiple orgasms; all just Choso..... Word count: 3.7k (a.n) ...... is this a safe place to post this? I started writing this thinking it was gonna be short- I was wrong. I got a lil carried away. Wrote this while listening to 'Take Me to Church- Hozier'

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Dating Choso came easy. He was nice, he was strong, caring. You always saw the tough side of him. He never had anything to complain about when it came to your relationship.

Always ready to hear your opinions and thoughts. And when you'd ask him what he think when it came to certain things he'd always reply with, “If it makes you happy, I'm happy.” never wanting to say something that might hurt you.

Always so eager to shut down your harsh words towards yourself whenever a certain shirt didn't fit the way you wanted to. And you’d compliment him, saying things like how handsome he was, how good he looked, or when he'd help you carry the cases of water, never hesitating to kiss his bicep and tell him how strong he was.

And everytime he would return a shy, “Thank you.” turning away from you, knowing how red his cheeks got anytime you'd praise him. So when he asked you;

“Do you like me?” One tired night after coming home from work, it took you by surprise. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking at him through the mirror in the corner of your shared bedroom.

“Do you like me? Like that?” he asked, hands between his knees. His eyes on your face in the shape of saucers, sitting on the corner of the bed.

“Of course I do.” you replied, not fully understanding why he was asking that. “Have I not shown you that I do?” You asked, concerned that maybe you had failed him in that aspect.

Turning around to look at him, seeing him look down. “No- I just.” he puffed, trying to find the words to tell you how he feels. “I don't see why you'd want to be with me.” He let out, almost a whisper.

“Choso.” You sighed, seeing him tilt his head slightly up. Taking a step closer to him, reaching for the sides of his face.

“If im with you- it's because you are you.” You smiled, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.

He looked up to your gaze, “But-” he started, “No buts. What are you doubting?” You asked, soft tone in your voice as he closed his eyes.

“I just don't see why you'd want to be with me- I can't talk about my feelings- I cry too much.” He started, seeing tears form in his waterline. His hands hugged around your waist as he tried not to cry.

“I see the way people look at you- and it makes me feel like maybe I'm not enough.” He whispered, hot tears staining the shirt you were wearing as he pressed the side of his face to your sternum. Your hands caressing the sides of his face as he lets out quite whimpers into your shirt. 

Pulling him from you, looking down at his flustered face and wet cheeks. “You're more than enough Choso.” You wiped tears from his cheek, “I know feelings are so hard to talk about, and your crying just shows me just how sensitive you are.” You assured, seeing him not find any reassurance in your words.

“But-” He started again. Nodding your head no as he stopped speaking.

“What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?” You asked, smiling as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. His hand holding your wrist, pulling away and placing a gentle kiss to his lips. Half lidded eyes locked on his as he parted his lips, almost as though he was trying to think on what would assure him.

Pressing another kiss to his lips before letting out a ‘Hmm?’ seeing him gulp his embarrassment. “What do you like…about me?” he asked, his ears now warm against your fingers.

Choso was never the type to fish for compliments, he never asked you to praise him whenever he did something for you.

But he wanted to hear it, he just never had the guts to ask. 

The corner of your mouth curling into a smile at his brazen question, “I love your eyebrows.” You smiled, placing a gentle kiss to one of his eyebrows, “I love your eyes-” his eyes fluttering shut, pressing a kiss to one of them.

“And your nose.” You hummed, pressing a delicate kiss to the center of the black stripe that adorned his face. “Your cheeks-” He closed his eyes as he felt you pepper his face with gentle kisses.

The pink on his cheeks turned redder as he felt you kiss the shell of his ear, “And your earrings.” you smiled, his hands on your hips.

Feeling you straddle his thighs, lowering your lips to his jaw. “And your jawline.” you smiled, feeling him shift under you.

Trailing kisses on the edge of his jaw. Placing a kiss to his chin, “And your lips.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his plush lips.

Your hands on the sides of his face, looking deep into his eyes. “I love every part of you.” You smiled, feeling his hands roam up your back. Pulling you close to hug him, your chin on his shoulder as he held you tightly.

“I love when you make me laugh-” you whispered, “How caring you are-” his grip on your back pressing firmer.

“When you do things for me without me asking you to.” You continued, you hand rubbing circles on his back.

The other trailing to his bicep, “And how strong you are.” You smiled, feeling goosebumps form as you trailed the tips of your fingers on his thick bicep. Tracing your hand down his arm, moving it so you could intertwine your fingers with his.

Pulling away from his hug and looking into his eyes. “And your big hands.” You hummed, feeling his thick fingers against your smaller ones. The tears in his eyes now gone as his bottom lip trembled.

Closing the few centimeters that separated your lips, Choso hesitatingly deepening the kiss. Feeling his lips suck on your bottom one. The hand on your back is going to hold the side of your face. Pulling away from you with nothing but hearts in his eyes.

“I love you so much Choso.” You whispered, seeing him hold back a smile- almost too shy to smile. 

Eyebrows furrowing together when you felt something poke your thigh. His face of embarrassment showed you what he felt, not even looking down to see what poked you.

“I’m sorry-” He started, apologizing before you even said anything. “I just- felt so happy hearing your words-” he babbled, wanting so badly to tease him. But you knew now wasn't the time for that.

Taking one of your hands and brushing the hair from his face. “Don't be sorry-” you hummed, looking into his face that was full of shame. Smiling as he tried to avoid your gaze.

“No- I am. You're just trying to be nice and I ruined it-” he mumbled, looking down. Trying to look away from the embarrassment. Seeing an opportunity to show him just how much you liked him. Mumbling a quiet;

“It’s okay.” before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and taking your hand and trailing it to his clothed chest. Then down his torso as his breath hitched.

Your hand resting to the side of his hip, knowing he didn't wear any underwear whenever he'd be in his pajamas. Your hand cuffing around his clothed cock, earning a soft gasp from his lips.

Dragging your hand to where you knew his tip was, your fingertips grazing it delicately as he closed his eyes. Trying his best not to whine at the feeling. Smiling when you saw him try his hardest not to get too loud from such simple touches.

His cheeks flushed and such whiny sounds falling from his lips made something deep inside of you itch. Taking the hand that was on his cheek, placing the tips of your fingers to his lips.

Choso’s eyes opened to look at you, such deep devotion in his gaze when he looked at you. Kissing at the tips of your fingers before widening his mouth to welcome them. 

The hand on his clothed cock felt a small wet spot at the tip. Making you smile as he sucked at your fingers, hoping they'd be enough to quiet his moans. They weren't, his groans vibrated against your fingers causing a chill to run down your spine.

The mere sight of him making your own arousal pool in your stomach. Feeling his hips buck beneath you, you smiled. A certain image you've had in mind popping into your head when you saw the face he made before he was going to cum.

Stopping your movements as he looked into your eyes, almost asking you why you’d deny him this. Pulling your now wet fingers from his lips, seeing his face of confusion.

You raised yourself from his thighs, his face full of betrayal as you looked behind you. Pulling the small ottoman in the bedroom in front of him. Sitting down and looking at him, eye to eye but much further away than he wanted.

Smile on your lips as you saw his face churn with shyness. Feeling your gaze on the obvious wet spot on his gray sweats. Thinking he had never felt this hard in his life. “If I wasn't here; show me how you’d take care of it.” You hummed, seeing him look at you. Eyebrows furrowed showing you how unsure he was.

“Take care of…it?” he whispered, his hands going to cover the obvious wet bulge in his sweats. Your eyes looked down to his hands, you mumbled a small ‘Mhm’ as his lips cracked open to say something but not finding the words.

His eyes widening at the realization of what you were asking of him. Goosebumps forming on his back. Seeing you rest your elbow on your knee, propping your head in your hand while you waited. He stood up, taking his shirt off quickly- not wanting it to get ruined. His chest almost heaving from how flustered he felt.

Tossing it to the side and sliding his sweats down to his knees, his eyes avoiding your gaze as his throbbing cock flung out of his soiled sweats. Seeing a smile form on your lips when he sat back down on the edge of the bed. His eyebrows pinched together when he saw how lovingly you watched him.

“So pretty Cho.” You hummed, making his heart clench. Looking down to his leaking cock, and back to you. “Go on.” You smiled, the look on your face as though what you were asking of him was some innocent act.

Gulping as he took his hand, grasping the middle of his pale shaft. Inhaling sharply as he slid it up to his tip slowly. Choso had done this many times, never feeling shame or embarrassment for doing what seemed to be something normal.

But not once did he ever do it infront of you, the feeling of being so exposed while you watched him. Fully dressed and praising him. You've said it to him before, but you always liked the way his face churned when you'd tell him, “So big.” you'd purr, his eyes squinting shut at hearing your words.

His hand took a snail pace, stroking up and down slowly as he looked to his cock and back to you to see if you saw what you were hoping for. His sweats falling from his knees down to his ankles as he let out soft whines. His thumb caught the very tip of his cock as he looked to your approving gaze.

“Does it feel good?” you hummed, hearing him let out a choked moan, he let out a soft ‘Mhm’ as he stroked himself. “Use your words.” You demanded, his face showing you how reactive he was to your tone.

“It-” He whined, trying to get the words out. “It does-” he managed, eyes flickering back to you.

“Always so cute when you're like this Cho.” You smiled, seeing his hand speed up the tiniest bit at your words, seeing his free hand hold onto the edge of the bed while trying not to cum too soon.

“Are you gonna cum?” Your tone came out more teasingly than you meant for it to, seeing him nod his head no, going back to the slow pace he kept before.

“It's okay. You can cum.” you hummed, seeing him look to you with pained eyes as his hand sped up. All but asking for your permission. Gasping at the feeling of his fist brushing against his crying tip.

Chin in your hand watching his fist come down his shaft, making him throw his head back and let out a groan. Stroking his cock through his orgasm, only making himself more messy. Whining as he came down from his orgasm, looking back to you to see if you found what you were looking for. 

“Again.” You smiled, loving look on your face when you looked at his fucked out one. Wincing when he heard your words, almost like you didn't have any issues about demanding another one.

His hard cock twitched as his hand connected again, stroking slowly at his shaft, making sure to not touch his tip too much. Knowing how sensitive it still was, soft whines left his lips once more as he saw you furrow your eyebrows at his movements.

“If you're not gonna do it right, don't do it at all. Choso.” tone now deprived of all sweetness. Now sounding more upset.

“M’sorry-” he whined, stroking past his tip. Bucking his hips into his hand, choked whines falling from him. Soft sighs from him when he saw your eyebrows unfurrow.

Looking at him again with a smile. “There you go,” You cooed, “Good boy.” you continued, earning small whines from him at your words. Looking at you with a shamed face before asking;

“Can I-” Seeing you lift your head from your hands and rest your palms above your thighs.

“Can you what?” you teased, seeing his hand move sloppily as he heard your tone. He moaned, babbles of ‘pleasepleaseplease’ as his hand tried to keep the pace he set for himself.

“Please what Choso?” you hummed, seeing him almost cum without permission.

“Can I cum- please.” He managed through various whines, blushing so intensely that it roamed down his neck, onto his chest.

“Go ahead, hon.” You smiled, seeing his face churn as he chased the fleeting orgasm at his own hand. Unable to keep his fist tight enough to make him cum from how fucked out he already was. Barely managing to come once his eyes met your gaze.

Standing up from the ottoman as he came down from his second orgasm. Pressing a delicate kiss onto his forehead as he stroked himself slowly.

“You're so pretty like this Cho.” You cooed, holding his head in your hands as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Seeing his eyebrows pinch together at your praises. Placing a kiss to his lips, eyes half lidded before pulling away.

“You did so good.” Pushing away the strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. Opening his mouth to speak- hesitating as he looked into your eyes.

“Touch me. Please.” He whined, feeling your hands on the sides of his face and his cock hardening once more. Pulling away from him before slipping off your shirt- knowing just how messy he gets. Kneeling before him, hands on his bare thighs as he squirmed at the feeling.

“I always liked how sensitive you were, Cho.” You started, taking the tip of your finger and tracing it on his darkening head. Seeing his thighs tremble against the feeling.

“How pretty you look when you ask me to help you.” You continued, slowly trailing the tip of your index finger down his shaft, hearing how he became breathless at the simple feeling. Taking your finger and gathering the mess he made at the base of his shaft, looking up to his eyes and licking it from your finger.

Smile on your face from the flavor hitting your tongue, seeing him try his hardest not to whine at your words. “And how sweet you've always been.” You smiled, leaning against his thigh. Seeing his mouth want to say something, lip quivering at trying to get the words out.

“Pl-” he started, a gasp leaving his lips when he felt the tip of your finger circle around the opening of his tip. Hearing you let out a teasing, ‘Hmm?’ As his hands gripped the edges of the bed. “Please-” He whined, seeing only the tip of your finger dance around his angry head.

“Please what?” You asked, seeing his tip let out a fat tear.

“Touch me-” He started, soft gasps leaving his lips at how sensitive his tip was.

“I am touching you, aren't i?” You smiled, hearing his groans become more and more frustrated. Looking up to see his face, a twinge of regret in your heart when you saw teary eyes looking back to you. 

“Okay, okay.” You smiled, raising yourself slightly so you'd be closer to his face, pressing a kiss to the corner of his opened mouth.

Looking into his eyes when you wrapped your hand around his base, gasping at the sudden feeling. Pressing a kiss onto his lips as he exhaled in relief, resting on the back of your calves as you slowly started stroking him.

Rolling the palm of your hand onto his tip as he squirmed beneath you, looking up to see his head thrown back, choked whines leaving his throat as you continued. Your free hand going to his balls, caressing them gently as he moaned more pleads.

Sadistic grin on your lips as you looked at the messy sight before you. “You gonna cum for me, Choso?” You smiled, seeing him flip his face back down to you.

Muttering a gasping ‘yes’ as your hand sped up. Seeing his cock leak out small pumps of milky white cum onto your hands. “You wanna make me happy?” you smiled sweetly, knowing that all you needed to do was ask him that one question and he'd be putty in your hands.

Nodding his head yes, not being able to speak from the whines leaving his mouth. You pulled away, making him let out a groan.

“You look so pretty- you have to see yourself.” You smiled, crawling onto the bed, hearing how hard he was breathing. Bare chest against his back as he whined. Feeling your hands snake beneath his arms, touching his ribs and grazing his chest.

“Look-” you whispered into his ear, being able to feel the shiver that ran down his spine. Seeing him lift his head to look into the mirror in front of him.

“Look how beautiful you look like this.” You whispered, lips brushing against his ear as your hand trailed down his torso. Fingers slowly tracing the ridges of his abs, hearing him exhale at your words. “You look even prettier when you cum.” you grinned against him, making him let out a soft whine at your dirty whispers.

“I'll show you-” you grinned, almost too eager as your hand trailed from his abdomen down his happy trail. Already feeling him writhe against your touch.

Seeing his gaze fall from his own body to your face peeking behind his shoulder. Feeling you slowly push the tip of his cock through your fist. Making him shift his hips, your other hand going to hold onto his thick bicep. Slowly stroking his cock as he felt another orgasm pool into his stomach.

“I’m gonna cum-” he whined, feeling that the sight of himself in the mirror and your sweet voice in his ear was too much.

“Already? I've barely touched you~” You teased, pressing your thumb onto the bottom of his tip. Sliding it up and down as you waited for him to answer, not stroking him just to see what he'd say.

“I’m sorry-” he whined, making you let out a small laugh.

“My sweet boy. Always so polite.” You smiled against his ear, making him buck his hips up your hand to get some stimulation. Seeing his eyes squeezed shut through the mirror, “Open your eyes.” You demanded, seeing him open them and look into the mirror.

“Look at your arms-” you started, slowly stroking his cock as he tried his hardest to not close his eyes. Feeling your hand caress his bicep, fingers pressing down at the small vein forming. Moving the hand on his bicep to his side, keeping the slow pace as you stroked his cock.

“And your chest-” you hummed, sliding your hands past his hardened nipple, making him gasp at the feeling. “Look how pretty your cock is.” you giggled, seeing his eyes trail down his own reflection- exhaling when he saw your hand stroking him.

The feeling of your other hand rolling the bud of his pink nipple between your fingers made him almost cum on the spot.

Seeing his face churn in the mirror you whispered, “Are you gonna cum again?~” as he muttered various ‘yesyesyes’ feeling your hand polish the tip of his cock.

“Look at yourself Choso-” you smiled, seeing his eyes scan his body with low gasps. Whining when he felt your hand speed up, making him cum once more. Barely being able to keep his eyes open as you brushed your thumb across the tip.

“Look how pretty you look~” you gasped, feeling his cum fall between your fingers that grasped against his cock. Choso’s eyes falling onto his own face as he came down from his orgasm. His breathing slowed as he felt himself give you the last of what he had.

His cock softened in your hand as you felt aftershocks flow through his body. Kissing his shoulder before letting his cock go. 

Almost feeling him fall back onto you, before you laid back into the bed. Feeling him flip over and resting his head onto your sternum. Holding himself close to your skin as you rubbed circles onto his bare back.

Tired eyes looking up at you, “Thank you.” he whispered before leaning up to give you a soft kiss to your lips. Placing one of your hands onto the side of his face, your fingers trailing above his pierced ears, feeling him hum against your chest.

Trailing the hand on his back up to his hair, combing it away from his face as you felt him slowly becoming heavier- showing he was falling asleep. “I love you.” You hummed, earning a small grunt from him as he tried to stay awake. 

-

I wrote this cuz I personally find it to be one of the most attractive things I can think abt- and when looking for some like this abt Choso, I found very few which was UPSETTING!!!! its one of the few things that made me take 5 min breaks like every few sentences because i felt so flustered writing this. again I suck at writing aftercare. im SORRY. I needed to write something nasty- I felt like I was punishing myself or something. I needed to get this out of my head before I wrote pt 7 of obsessive!Choso!!! im getting to work dw

[yanderestarangel]

did u delete a fic? i swear i saw a tio!miguel fic earlier today

a/n: hi angel! thank you for asking, in fact there was an age restriction and I decided to delete it, I'll take advantage of your comment and repost it. ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

"TIO" MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER

𝐓𝐖: dark plot, toxic relationship, power play, non con, dub con, manipulation, age gap, step!incest (non-blood uncle), invasion of privacy, stalking, threat, dead dove, dark smut, latino ftm reader, femboy reader, jealousy, aggressive sex, recorded sex, dom!miguel, v!sex, blowjob, spanish nicknames, send nudes, degradation, objectification, AU, male x male, porn plot, long fic, brain rot, creampie, blackmail.

Family parties were normal for your family, getting together some close relatives and celebrating on any weekend, always with plenty of music and laughter filling your ears, was annoying at times, but you couldn't say 'no' to a tradition.

You felt the cold of the night breeze enter your skin, each hair left its place accompanied by a strange chill ── you were being watched, and you knew very well who it was... Tio Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara was a friend of your father, a mysterious and serious man, even though your family welcomed him as if he shared the same blood, he still had the same look of rigidity and seriousness ── no one knew much about his past, if he had some relationship or family before moving to your city years ago, but it was only said that he worked as a caretaker on some local farms ── which made him earn too much money for a simple caretaker, but that matter was not touched by no one in your family.

You obeyed the strict rule of calling him "Uncle" or "Tio", since when he arrived, when his eyes met yours, it was as if something awakened in his core ── a flame lost for years, now burning in his soul, and you it was the kerosene that made this fire worse.

Your attention returned to reality, seeing the tanned man go to the place where you were, sitting next to you; muscular legs crammed into the black jeans he always wore, with a weather-beaten dress shirt that had previously been white, now appeared to be a light vanilla shade, hugging the girth of his robust muscles. He had a cold, fresh can of beer in his right hand, while his left went towards his hair, arranging some loose strands that insisted on falling on his forehead, his lips formed a thin line, the corners turned down in disapproval ── The sight of you hiding from the celebration hurt him, a pang of possessiveness invaded his chest, soon remembering the things he had seen, however, before touching on the topic of rupture the words came out softly from his throat.

"What is wrong, carinõ?"

He asked softly, hand reaching out to take yours gently. His grip was firm but not unnecessarily tight, calloused skin warm against your own.

"You should be out there, dancing and laughing with your family... You seem thoughtful mi principito"

You sighed in response, quickly explaining that you weren't in a party mood, your hands went back to the cell phone that was previously in your pocket, making the Mexican's eyes narrow in response to such an act. O'Hara took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, then crushing the drink can in his hand and turning to you, he knew exactly what he wanted to know and he wanted the truth.

"Who was that boy, mi vida?”

He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame as the music swelled around you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, you felt the burn of heat on his body, the smell of expensive men's perfume and cheap alcoholic drink.

"You were speaking so intimately with him..."

His voice was a low purr, tinged with warning.

"This is our moment, just us... I dropped that phone." That was a threat, making you make a quick excuse ── after all, you knew exactly what he was talking about, you were going out with "Hobbie Brown", a friend from your college, but you didn't expect your uncle to have seen the two of you together (but it wasn't very difficult, you and the boy always clung to each other even if you didn't have anything officially. )

You moved away from Miguel's heat, before the sensation was still tolerable, but now it seemed like a violent flame and about to explode like a time bomb. Your mouth opened, speaking sweet lies, trying to mask the fact that you were going out with Hobbie ── you knew that the best way was to lie, even if it didn't do anything, you had already seen how your non-sanguine uncle acted like a crazy man when you were around people other than him. Miguel's eyebrows arched in disbelief, dark brows furrowing deeply. "Tell me, corazón, is there something you wish to confess to me?"

He asked, tilting his head curiously. His gauze lingered on your lips, as if he could taste the lie on them. "I see what happens around me, my heart."

He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

"And I do not like it... Do not lie to me, mi angel, because the next lie I hear from your sweet lips, you'll regret it." The sound of his voice was a low rumble, like thunder on the horizon. He pulled you close again, his lips brushing your ear softly.

"You play with fire... Mi pequeño."

His voice was a whisper now, his breath warm against your skin.

"And one day, that fire will burn you."

He released you then, stepping back with a harsh exhale. His eyes were stormy, his features set in a hard line. Miguel stared at you for a moment, as if he could read your thoughts, as if he could feel your fear ── Finally, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If I ever hear of another man touching you like that again... I will end him." He muttered, downing a large gulp of his drink before setting the bottle down on the table. You watched him leave, the loud footsteps on the raw cement floor were enough to tell you that he was angry. The rest of the party was strange, you felt tio Miguel's eyes on you, even though the atmosphere was pleasant for the other participants in your family, everything had gotten worse after the confrontation you had with the man ── you thought about telling about your uncle's strange behavior towards your father, but you knew it wouldn't help, they would just defend Miguel and say that you were exaggerating... But you felt like you weren't.

You went to your room, while you saw the tall man's shadow in the hallway, bumping into the walls because he was too drunk to think or stand on his feet ── you saw him leaning on your door frame, while you asked calmly if he needed some help. Miguel's eyes met his, his vision slightly blurred from the alcohol he had consumed. He licked his lips, his gaze roaming your body hungrily, but he didn't act, only a sob and a sad laugh left his lips, while he showed his white canines.

"You are mi ninõ. You always have been and always will be... There is no escaping your destiny."

He babbled, his words filled with drink, but he was serious, like he had never spoken before, you could see a mix of dark emotions that burned in his brown orbits, each word, no matter how slurred it was, carried a clear truth that could not be said aloud by several taboos.

His hands reached out, gripping your arms tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving small red marks.

"Don't forget this... You would never lie to your Uncle right? I will protect you... Incluso si es de ti mismo."

He leaned closer, his breathing heavy and laced with the smell of whiskey.

"But I will also punish you if you disobey me."

He let go of you then, frowning as he looked at the marks he had left on your arms.

"Go to bed now."

He mumbled, turning away from you and stumbling towards the door.

"Sleep well, my precious boy."

His voice was filled with alcohol, spite and a twisted desire ── the latter making his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, as he staggered out, ignoring everything and everyone around him, you tried to ignore the burning in your stomach, a mixture of fear and a bittersweet heat near your stomach, you were maybe just very tired... Right? You pushed away the thoughts that consumed your mind, trying to grab the fog of sleep that you tried to achieve, you hoped for a good day... But little did you know what fateful destiny had planned.

You woke up to your parents cleaning the house, it was a hot and irritating Sunday, you woke up sweaty and to the loud sounds of rooms being dragged from one place to another ── you really didn't want to be there, so your father told you to go to your uncle Miguel's house, even though you insisted on saying the opposite, that you could handle the chaos at home and help them, but your parent just repeated the phrase and sent you to keep O'Hara company at his house.

Everything would be better than facing him again.

You wore your most comfortable and cool dress for that sultry summer day ── your breasts bounced and you felt the coolness of the wind blowing beneath your legs, reaching your thighs and panties, an adorable boy, on the way to the wolf's house.

Walking under the sun until you saw Miguel's house in a rural area and away from the common neighborhood, you called his name, soon seeing the man come completely sweaty and shirtless, still wearing the same pants from yesterday, while drying his sweat of his brow, letting you into his comfort.

"Fine."

He grumbled, he turned around, taking you home without saying another word. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

As you entered the house, you noticed a slight disorder. Miguel's usually immaculate house really needed some cleaning. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.

"Your father said you were coming..." He sighed with a hand on his hips as he looked at you steadily. "That's good, now we can continue our conversation from yesterday, okay? I want the truth my boy, give me your cell phone, unlocked... After all, you have nothing to hide from me right... You and Hobbie are just good friends... Right?" His voice carried that threatening and authoritarian tone again, you stuttered but when you saw your uncle's look you swallowed hard and accepted your fate, obviously you had spicy messages on your cell phone, but what could you do? Running unfortunately wasn't an option, neither was screaming, you were trapped in a spider's web, and in the possessive man's judgmental gaze.

"Now. Give it to me. Or else you know what I'm capable of."

He repeated as you handed him the electronic device ─ and it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for... Miguel's eyes narrowed as he flipped through the messages on his phone. His grip tightened around the device, his knuckles turning white. A mixture of anger, jealousy and hurt crossed his face as he read the explicit messages and saw the intimate photos, you were really with that boy... You were doing everything behind his back.

"How dare you show your body to that piece of shit!"

His voice was laced with bitterness and disappointment. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking on impact.

"Do you think you can send nudes to some random boy and get away with it?"

He took a step towards you, his expression darkening.

"Did he make you wet? Did he make you excited?" His words came out like venom, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. Miguel's grip on his chin tightened, his fingers digging into his flesh. His angry eyes fixed on his, his expression filled with a mixture of possessiveness and pain.

"I expected everything... Except that, I'm tired, tired of just being seen as your fucking uncle... I can give you so much more than that boy ever could. I can make you scream, make you beg for more. But you need to understand that you are mine."

His voice was filled with a desperate need, a desire that was both warm and terrifying. He pressed his body against his, his erection evident through his jeans. You tried to protest again, in vain, you just felt O'Hara's thick lips on yours, it was strong, his tongue dominating his as he held you tightly. His hand guided your trembling hand to his hard, throbbing erection, pressing it against the fabric of his pants. He let out a low growl of pleasure, the sound vibrating against your lips.

"You always make me hard on boy... So fucking hard." He continued kissing you fiercely, your free hand moving to grip his waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pressed your body against his again, now the bulge of his pants rubbing against your thigh. The intensity of his touch and the raw desire in his eyes made your own body respond, despite the fear and confusion, it was so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.

"Do you think you can show yourself like that to anyone? Do you think there will be no consequences?"

He pushed you back, guiding you towards the couch again ─ his hands exploring your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

"Strip for me, baby boy. Show me that body you dared to share with someone else. Show me what only I should see."

His voice was commanding, his eyes burning of lust and anger. He watched as you hesitantly complied, removing your clothes piece by piece, revealing your naked form to him ── your dress was discarded somewhere in the room, your breasts bounced while your nipples became hard from contact with the air, your pussy was already wet, a simple kiss had done that to you.

He looks at you with admiration... All of that was for him, a banquet of the gods, he wasn't going to leave you in punishment, no matter how angelic you were, he was going to reduce you to a dumb and beautiful mess, totally broken for him.

"Look at you... So eager to please, so desperate for my touch. Did just one kiss from does your uncle get you this wet?"

A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took hold of his cell phone, opening the camera app with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Well, since you were so willing to show yourself to that boy, I think it's only fair that I capture this moment. Don't you agree, my precious angelito?"

He positioned himself in front of you, his cock springing free from his pants. The sight of his naked arousal feels a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. He pulled you down to your knees, his grip firm on the back of your head.

"Suck it," he commanded "Let the world see what a slut you've become."

You hesitated for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But the thought of defying him only fueled his anger further. With a mixture of trepidation and submission, you wrapped your lips around his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around his head. He groaned, his grip tightening in his hair as he began recording your submissive act.

"You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Such a good boy, taking it all in."

He continued to record, capturing each salacious moment as you eagerly pleasured him. The taste of his cock and the sound of his moans filled your senses, heightening your own pleasure. Your body responded, the tingling warmth between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

"No one else gets to taste you like this. You're my slutty boy, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

He spoke as the fat and hot tip of his member hit your throat repeatedly, making you choke and connect your nose with his groin, the lack of air making you momentarily see stars as he let you breathe again.

As Miguel reached his climax, he grunted and released a hot jet of cum into your mouth. He groaned with satisfaction, feeling the pulsing sensation as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste of his essence filled your senses, mixed with the bitter-sweet humiliation of the situation. Once he had finished, he withdrew his dick from your mouth, his grip firm on your face. He forced you to open your mouth wide, showing your dirty tongue, coated with his cum, to the camera. The sadistic glint in his eyes only intensified as he instructed you to swallow it all.

You obediently complied, gulping down his cum, heavy tears ran down your body, while his thumb pulled your cheek to show him even more of your oral cavity.

"Look at the camera....You look like a damn porn star... A filthy, little porn star."

You barely had time to react, then the man trapped you beneath him again ─ his thighs separated yours, while he looked at your cunt milking the air with so much excitement, making him laugh mockingly and dominantly ─ without prior warning, his thick cock entered your wet pussy, stretching you to your limits and causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through your body. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts.

As he thrust into you, Miguel focused the camera on your tear-streaked face, capturing every moment of your vulnerability and submission.

You were a mess of conflicting emotions, a beautiful sight to him as he reveled in his dominance over you, The desire makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong ── soon you find yourself thrusting your hips onto his cock, whimpering pathetically as you moan his name.

"Mmm, you're such a buen chico para mí.. such a good and beautiful pussy... You hid it from me for so long... But you showed it so easily to that bastard... You disappoint your uncle sometimes, boy."

His hand left the camera momentarily, his fingers finding your clit, caressing it in a way that made your moans intensify, he watched your reactions closely, moaning with lips parted, as he looked directly into your teary eyes.

"See, I knew you'd love this, aren't you? Oh, sí... Mierda- Eres tan apretado chico".

Then, with the peaks of moans and pounding of flesh on flesh, his grunts grew louder and more primal as he climaxed. With one final thrust, he released his hot sperm deep inside your pulsating pussy, filling you with his essence. When he pulled out, the camera captured the evidence of your intimate connection, showing the mixture of his cum and your own juices. Your pussy clenched and milked the air, aching for more even after he finished.

"You've taken all of my cum... Un buen chico para tu tio."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a tinge of shame as you watched your body respond to his touch.

He smiles at the video on his cell phone, while looking at you with a dangerous glare.

"Now you're going to be a good putito... After all, you don't want this to leak out to our family, do you?"

You had no choice, and maybe you didn't even want to... Miguel had broken you, as he always wanted, you were his now, only his.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[buckyandgeraltsupremacy]

remus x shy!reader

author: sj

warnings: fluff; reader is in hufflepuff; not edited lol

let me know if you want a part 2 cause i love writing for remus rn

masterlist

part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

---

you shared a lot of classes with the marauders. you weren’t even sure they knew your name. but even though you thought they didn’t know you, there was one marauder who always noticed you. remus could spot you in a crowd of one hundred. his eyes always searching for a yellow tie and your h/c hair. he thought you were so smart and always watched you take notes in every class admiring how focused you were on your studies. to be honest, that’s one of the reasons he always went to the library to study, he knew you’d be in there as well.

james had noticed this little thing remus had for you as early at 3rd year. he watched remus silently watch the hufflepuff girl with h/c hair. he didn’t try to intervene until they were older, still watching him pine over the same girl that had remus’ attention. he didn’t really know what to do so he told sirius and of course he knew exactly what to do.

you were sitting in potions after class had ended, classmates filtering out and gathering your things when someone came up to you and started talking to you. low and behold it was sirius.

“hey! i’m sirius” he said, shoving his hand towards you. you nodded, waking yourself out of shock that a marauder was introducing himself to you like they weren’t the talk of the school.

“y/n.” you replied, shaking his hand.

“great. my friend remus, you know remus right? tall, lanky, always holding a book, he’s sick and is always draining on and on about how smart you are so i thought i’d ask you for notes for him. id give him mine but i didn’t take any.” you cheeks turned red at the idea of them talking about you, much less remus thinking that you were smart.

“um. yeah. i can do that, let me copy them onto another piece of parchment and then you can take them to him.”

“perfect! come by the gryffindor common room anytime tonight and we’ll be there!”

when you finished up copying the notes that night, you stopped by the gryffindor common room to drop off the notes. you didn't have the password so knocking on the portrait would have to do. you stepped back and the door swung open to reveal sirius giving you and oddly big grin.

"come on in, love! so lovely of you to drop these notes off for poor remus." he ushered you inside and you stepped through looking around the room. you quickly found the rest of the marauders sitting by the fireplace, james, peter, and a tired looking remus. his eyes widened when you walked through the door, instantly shooting to james and peter and back to you.

"had a surprise for you remus. i know how much you love your notes, so i thought i'd ask for some from the master herself." sirius said, pushing you towards the group. your cheeks burned as you dug through your bag on you shoulder to find your copy of notes for him. you finally found them and took a few steps forward to remus who was sitting up straighter as you got closer.

"here you go. i just copied them from the notes that i took today. i hope they're good enough. i'm not sure what your normal style is that you're used to so i this helps." you said in a rush, looking down at your notes. you extended them towards the boy sitting by the fire. he reached for them.

"thank you so much y/n! you really didn't have to do this. did sirius make you any threats or force you do this?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly. you lightly laughed as a shocked sirius gasped and muttered some words you couldn't understand.

"no, no. i promise i did this of my own free will." you said, glancing up at his eyes. his smile reached his eyes once your eyes met and you instantly felt warm inside.

and so thats how your relationship started to form with the marauders. they soon started coming up to talk with you during classes and inviting you to sit with them at meals when they noticed you sitting by yourself.

your favorite though, was when you'd be in the library and remus would ask to sit at your table. he would work with you silently and you'd trade questions about homework back and forth, eventually even recommending books to each other.

you even got so close to them that the boys started including you in the teasing. one specific day, the boys found you and remus reading in the common room together. you were sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table and he was sitting behind you on the couch. the boys came in loud and instantly disrupted the calmness. sirius came bouding over to you and sat across the coffee table on the floor.

"i thought of one for you." he said, slapping his hands on the table. you jumped at the abrupt sound and leaned back on to remus' legs. the boys had been trying to figure out a good nickname for you so you could join their fun nicknames, but you weren't an anigmus like they were so there were lots of options but not of them really were fitting you quite right.

"what is it?" you asked, relaxing against remus' legs.

"flea. its perfect. you're small, quiet and annoying." you gasped and immediately sat up in protest.

"no! thats horrible i don't want to be called a flea, you git!" you exclaimed.

"but it just fits so well, flea. i can't deny how perfect it is for you." you started to protest, but a big hand stopped you. the hand, from remus, wrapped around your shoulder and guided you back to his legs, scooching you to between his legs and under him. his hands grabbed your shoulders and started to work there, massaging your tight shoulders.

"we're not calling her flea." remus insisted. you shivered and you hoped he thought it was from his hands and not his commanding voice. james then spoke up.

"what about hoppers?" you tilted your head and looked up at remus to hear his response, not protesting that one.

"she sure is as cute as a bunny and the size of one too. i vote yes." he said, looking down into your face. james nodded his head and sirius huffed.

"i still like flea better but hoppers will do when you don't annoy me, flea." sirius grumbled. you rolled your eyes and relaxed into remus' touch more, your eyes closing. unbeknownst to you, his small smile grew as he continued to massage your shoulders.

[lives-in-midgard]

Finally, Back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When you hear a loud noise in the middle of the night, you think someone is breaking into your apartment, turns out it's just Bucky who is back from his mission.

Word Count: 820

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for helping me decide what to post, with voting on this poll. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Being in a relationship with a superhero wasn’t always easy. Especially if you are a civilian and living a normal life. Well, actually it’s not that normal anymore since you started dating Bucky Barnes. Now you always have to worry when he is on a mission, but when he gets home, Bucky immediately drives to your apartment. Bucky loves you so much and so do you. You had been dating for a few months when you decided to move in together.

You love living with Bucky. From waking up cuddled up with him to going for a walk, cooking together and watching your favorite shows or movies together. Another thing you like to do is reading next to each other and then discuss what happened in the book.

You were currently cooking dinner, normally you would cook with Bucky, but this time you were cooking alone because Bucky was on a mission, which he had already been for three weeks. You weren’t sure where he was or when he would be back. You just knew that it was a dangerous mission and to protect you, Bucky didn’t want to tell you anything about it.

Before Bucky left, he promised you that he would come back home to you and you’re believing and hoping that it’s true and he will come back home soon.

You missed Bucky so much and felt so lonely without him. You started to miss him a lot and everything felt different when he wasn’t here. Especially coming home after work to an empty apartment and no one is waiting for you. Bucky also missed you so much and couldn’t wait to see again. He did his best on this mission, so that he could be home as quickly as possible.

It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t sleep again. You missed Bucky’s arms around you and how he always gave you a kiss on the forehead before saying goodnight. After lying there for a while, you started to overthink and couldn’t get the idea out of your head that something might have happened to Bucky. You heard the wind outside and some strange noises. Suddenly you heard a loud bang, and someone mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You sat up in your bed and listened carefully. Suddenly you heard someone opening your apartment door.

Shit, someone broke into your apartment. You thought and reached for the gun, you put in the bedside table in case something happens. Bucky taught you how to use it, even though he hoped you would never need it. You stood up and took a deep breath. You had to be brave for Bucky.

You quietly opened the door to your bedroom a bit, held the gun in front of your body and then said loudly.

“Wherever you are, I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!” You opened the door more and took a step out of your bedroom. Suddenly the light went on and you saw Bucky standing a few steps away from you.

“Doll.” He said softly.

“Bucky you’re home.” Tears began to form in your eyes as you watched Bucky walking closer to you. He gave you a soft smile and said.

“Yeah, I’m finally back home with my girl.” He looked at the gun and then back at you.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, doll.” Bucky said and then you realized that you still had the gun in your hands and got nervous.

“Let me take the gun, doll.” Bucky said and you nodded. Then he gently took the gun from your hand and put it in his back pocket. After that, Bucky opened his arms and pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more, sweetheart.” You don’t know how long you stood there, hugging each other and telling the other one how much you love and missed each other. After a while you turned away and Bucky placed his hand on your cheek and his metal hand on your back and pulled you into a passionate kiss. When the kiss ended, you smiled at each other and Bucky took your hand.

“Let’s go cuddle.” Bucky said and you giggled, which made Bucky smile. He kissed your forehead and then you went to your bedroom. Bucky changed into different clothes and laid down next to you. Then you laid your head on his chest and Bucky wrapped his arms around you.

You laid there for a while when Bucky suddenly broke the silence.

“Let’s go somewhere, just you and me.” You looked up at him with a smile and Bucky gently rubbed your back.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

Bucky and you then started talking about some places that you both have wanted to visit for a while and you can’t wait to see these beautiful places with Bucky. After a while, you nodded off in your boyfriend's loving embrace.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

[ellecdc]

Helloo!!!

Fisrt: I bloody love your blog, you knoked me up on Poly!Moonwater and now I always think about them.

Second: Could I request black brother centric fic? Like it’s a Poly!wolfstar X reader, (or literally any ship that you like involving Sirius), where they have a kid, and Sirius is like watching them play alongside Reg, and he just starts spiralling bc he’s afraid that he might become like his parents, and Reg starts comforting him taking in account what they had to go through, and their relationship growing ecc… and he’s like “Just the fact that you’re worrying means you’re not like that, you’re doing a great job.” And Sirius just dies crying with him.

Obv only if you feel comfortable writing it!! Thank you!!!

those poor sad boys; what I wouldn't do for them

parents!wolfstar x reader but it's Sirius and Regulus centric

CW: brief mention of Black brother's childhood, Sirius spiralling, Regulus talking sense into him, baby wolfstar being a certified menace, hurt/comfort

Regulus should have known there was an ulterior motive to Sirius’ “are you busy this afternoon?” text. 

Not that Regulus didn’t like spending time with his older brother (though he would staunchly deny that he did if Sirius ever asked), but it wasn’t common for Sirius to invite him over unprompted.

And sure enough, as Regulus stepped through the floo at your, Remus, and Sirius’ shared home, he quickly realised why.

Your pudgy little offspring (that Regulus loved more than life itself) was sitting in a booster seat at the kitchen island as she shoved some form of noodle into her mouth and babbled at Sirius which sounded nonsensical to Regulus but seemed to make perfect sense to Sirius as he answered her queries.

And you and Remus were nowhere to be found. 

“Look who it is, babygirl!” Sirius cheered as Regulus stepped into the kitchen, though Regulus could see some of his brother’s usual enthusiasm was curbed.

“Unc’Regloo!” Aurora cheered excitedly as she raised her messy fists up into the air much like she was cheering at a quidditch match. 

“How’s my future little seeker?” Regulus asked as he planted a kiss into the toddler’s  hair.

“Please.” Sirius scoffed as Regulus knew he would. “She’s going to be a beater like her Papa, obviously.”

Sirius and Remus (though Remus certainly only did it to get a rise out of Sirius) argued emphatically over who the child looked more alike - Sirius or Remus - having kept the biological father unknown.

Regulus was happy to note though that the child was nearly a carbon copy of you; She had your hair, your eyes, and your smile. 

But the way the child ‘pat Regulus’ arm lovingly’ [leaving a small orange coloured handprint on his pressed shirt] was all Sirius. 

“Where’s your better third’s?” Regulus asked as he leaned against the granite countertops - well out of reach of Sirius’ mischievous offspring [and her messy hands]. 

Sirius spared him a half-hearted glare as he turned back to watch his daughter. “Daddy had an interview at Hogwarts today and mummy is at the Ministry.” Sirius explained as if it had been Aurora who had asked the question.

“I see why you called, then.” Regulus added solemnly, turning to look at the child. “I wouldn’t want to leave you alone with Papa either.”

The child giggled as she shoved more noodles into her mouth, but Regulus turned to see Sirius staring at the child dejectedly.

“Sirius?”

Sirius cleared his throat and seemed to ‘shake himself off’ as he asked Aurora to drink some water and then helped her clean her hands and face [and even her hair; Salazar, babies were messy]. 

“Papa! Can play outside?” Aurora asked excitedly, clasping her hands under her chin and batting her lashes at her father as if she were asking for something quite outlandish.

“Of course, sweetheart! Lead the way!” Sirius agreed readily, following the child out the sliding back door as Regulus followed the pair. 

Aurora was no sooner pouring sand into a little plastic bucket before Sirius let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Reg.” He whispered quietly.

Regulus surveyed his brother in bemusement; Sirius sat on the patio furniture with his elbows on his knees and one hand covering his mouth as he stared unseeingly at his daughter.

“You’re supervising your child during playtime, Sirius.” Regulus offered, causing Sirius to scoff unamusedly. 

“I’m going to fuck it up; all of it. I don’t know why I ever thought I could do this, because I can’t.” 

“Whoa, whoa.” Regulus interrupted quickly, turning his body directly towards his brother. “You can’t do what exactly?”

“Any of it, Regulus.”

“You can’t love Remus and Y/N?” Regulus asked simply.

“Well, no not that; I mean, of course I do-”

“You can’t love that sweet little girl over there who thinks you just hung the stars because you agreed to let her play in dirt?” He continued, gesturing to said child who was now dumping the bucket of sand on top of her head and squealing in delight. 

“I….I don’t know how to be good… To be a good husband and father to them, Reg. I don’t know how to be…to be better; better than them.” 

The them remained unexplained, but both brother’s knew who Sirius was referring to.

“Well,” Regulus started with a sigh, turning back to watch Aurora jump up and run over only to slam her little body into Sirius’ larger one. 

Sirius, for his part, pretended to have the wind knocked out of him causing the child to squeal before he scooped her up into his arms and planted three smacking kisses to her sand covered face, and plopping her back on the ground for her to toddle back off again. 

“Mother would have had your head for squealing like that.” Regulus said simply, causing Sirius to let out a sigh that sounded awfully close to a sob. “Father would have backhanded you for getting sand on his trousers. Kreacher would have been ordered to lock you in your room for daring to touch a guest with dirty little hands if we had ever dared to eat without utensils.”

He took a deep breath before he turned his now shining eyes back to his big brother; the only family member who ever showed him any amount of love and affection throughout his entire childhood that wasn’t conditional or performative. “And I don’t know that I was ever kissed by our parents. Were you? Do you remember them pressing a kiss to our cheeks?”

Sirius shook his head minutely as both brothers pretended they didn’t notice the tears falling down his face. 

“That child is far more loved by you alone than the two of us ever were growing up, and the best part is that she knows she’s that loved.” Regulus pressed, looking back towards his niece as she moved towards a water table Sirius had called Regulus over to help Remus build a few weeks ago whilst he and you drank spiked lemonade and watched them struggle. 

“And that’s not even taking into account the amount of family she has surrounding her; me, the Potter’s, Remus’ parents, and you Marauders.” He spat as if it was a dirty word, causing Sirius to chuckle wetly. 

“And Siri…” Regulus stated more earnestly, forcing Sirius to make eye contact with him before continuing. “The fact that you’re even worried about it tells me you’re already far better than them, yeah?”

Sirius chuckled wetly again as he squeezed his eyes shut; more tears falling as he nodded his head. 

Both boys were surprised when a small hand appeared on Sirius’ cheek, gently wiping at the tears adorning her father’s face.  “Why Papa cry? Papa have owie?”

Sirius laughed again and pulled himself together. “No, Papa doesn’t have an owie darling girl.”

“Papa sad?” She asked again, tilting her head slightly as if that might help her understand her father’s predicament any better.

“Papa was sad, but he feels a lot better now that you’re here.” He said with a smile. “Better not leave me here alone with your uncle again though, otherwise he might make me cry again.”

Regulus scoffed derisively before Aurora pointed a stern glare at him that wasn’t particularly intimidating but sweet Merlin did she ever look like you.

“Bad unc-Regloo! Make Papa cry!” She shouted as she hopped off her father’s lap and made for Regulus. 

Regulus - not willing to find out what exactly the child had in store for him - hopped out of his seat and took off in a ‘run’ which began a squeal-laughing chase around the backyard as Sirius laughed and cheered Aurora on.

“That’s right, baby girl! Avenge your father! Make sure to get his ribs; that’s where he’s most ticklish!”

Yeah, Regulus thought to himself, Sirius really has nothing to worry about at all. 

[pin-k-ink]

eventide // tsukishima kei

tw ⇢ dub-con, emotional manipulation, toxic/unhealthy relationship, borderline possessive kei, minor age gap (reader is 5 years older), sexual tension, angst, pining, akiteru x reader if you squint, fingering, unprotected sex, dry humping, begging, obsession, tsukki is kinda pervy

wc ⇢ 19k 💀

a/n: i did that thing again where i don’t know how to end a fic

Tsukishima was in hell. Every fiber of his being burned with an agonizing combination of desire and torment as your presence infiltrated his senses. The sweet, subtle fragrance of your perfume was a cruel tease, inflaming him while reminding him you belonged to someone else. His brother's easy laughter at some witticism you'd uttered grated in Tsukishima's ears like nails on a chalkboard.

He watched, jaw clenched, as you playfully swatted Akiteru's arm, bodies casually invading each other's space with a comfortable intimacy Tsukishima could only fantasize about. Your sparkling eyes crinkled at the corners when you giggled at his brother's reply, full lips stretched in an effortless smile that Tsukishima longed to taste.

Forcing his gaze away from the plump curves of your mouth, he let his eyes brazenly rake over the rest of your figure. The thin cotton of your shirt sculpted to the valleys and hills of your form, clinging in a way that made Tsukishima's throat go dry. He imagined peeling it off you slowly, calloused fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin underneath as you arched shamelessly into his touch.

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Tsukishima's neck. He shifted, pressing his thighs together as arousal stirred low in his abdomen. Silently, he cursed his brother's obliviousness to the temptation posed by your presence. Akiteru was a fool, taking your closeness for granted when any sane man would endeavor to thoroughly map every luscious inch of you with his hands and mouth.

"You okay over there, Kei?" Your lilting voice sliced through his lascivious haze. Tsukishima's eyes snapped up to meet your concerned gaze, heart pounding. Heat flooded his cheeks at being caught staring so brazenly. Recovering quickly, he mustered his most disdainful sneer.

"I'm fine. Though this room reeks of desperation..." He let the insult hang heavy in the air between you.

You blinked at him owlishly for a moment before rolling your eyes in exasperation. "Wow, as charming as ever I see," you drawled sarcastically.

Tsukishima's mouth curved into a smirk at having successfully riled you. He vastly preferred this - the playful back-and-forth barbs, the simmering undercurrent of antagonism - to the torturous visions of you wrapped around his brother. At least when you were riled up at him, those molten eyes were focused solely on Tsukishima.

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it," he goaded, taking petty satisfaction in the way your nostrils flared. You opened your mouth - likely to unleash a biting retort - but Akiteru spoke first.

"Come on you two, can we not do this today?" His brother sighed long-sufferingly. "It's bad enough having to deal with Kei's prickly 'holier-than-thou' attitude regularly."

A muscle in Tsukishima's jaw ticked as your gaze flickered briefly back to Akiteru. The unspoken bond between the two of you ignited a searing flare of jealousy in his gut. How easy it would be for Akiteru to simply reach out and pull you against him, burying his face into the inviting valley of your breasts as you giggled and playfully swatted him away...

The visions tormenting Tsukishima now were memories from long ago when he was just a child - back when you were still a frequent, dazzlingly bright fixture in the Tsukishima household. Back when his crush was new, freshly blossoming with the first tingling tendrils of innocent infatuation.

"Neeee-san!" The childish nickname you'd allowed only Tsukishima to use tumbled eagerly from his lips. At 6 years old, you were his biggest hero, the shining center of his universe.

You turned with a sunny smile, kneeling down to his level as he bounded up to you. "Well if it isn't my favorite little monster!" You reached out to ruffle his tousled blonde hair affectionately.

Tsukishima felt his face heat up at the casual contact and endearment, his child-self not yet able to tamp down the wide, unabashed grin of pure joy that broke across his features. Up close, your beauty was staggering - enough to leave him at a loss for words.

"Guess what, nee-san? I scored a whole bunch of points in volleyball practice today!" His small hands cupped together proudly as if cradling something precious.

"That's amazing, Kei!" You reached out to tousle his hair again, shining with genuine pride. The simple praise and affection in your radiant smile made his little heart swell.

"Soon I'll be so good that I can be on the same team as Aki-nii!" He proclaimed boldly. The thought of getting to play on the court alongside you and his older brother filled him with giddy excitement.

Your grin twitched ever so slightly. "I-I can't wait to see that! You'll have to show me some of your awesome moves."

"Kei, stop hogging nee-chan's to yourself." The familiar teasing lilt of Akiteru's voice cut through your moment. Tsukishima's smile dimmed as his older brother sauntered over, all lean muscle and easy confidence even at 11 years old.

You straightened up, attention diverted as Akiteru draped a casual arm around your shoulders. A flare of irrational irritation and something darker - something Tsukishima didn't yet have the emotional vocabulary for - flickered in the young boy's chest as you leaned comfortably into the familiar half-embrace.

In that moment, Akiteru's height, his striking looks, the similarities you two shared down to the very expression on your faces - it all became suddenly, viscerally apparent to Tsukishima's childish perceptions. A vise constricted in his small ribcage as he watched his brother playfully tug on one of your pigtails, laughing at some shared joke while you made a face of mock indignation.

It was like watching the formation of a black hole, inexorably drawing you into its singularity while slowly, agonizingly severing the gravitational tethers that once bound you to Tsukishima's world. The younger brother who had heretofore basked in the warmth of your attentions was now forgotten, cast into the cold outer orbit of your presence.

Akiteru was the sun in your universe now. And deep in the recesses of Tsukishima's fragile psyche, something cracked and began bleeding a venomous darkness into his once-bright worldview.

Over the years, as innocence shed away and Tsukishima's mind became increasingly shrouded in cynicism, that inky blight took root and flourished. What had started as a pure, sunny admiration for his radiant "nee-san" contorted into an obsession - one that had him drinking in every detail of your features, hungrily cataloging them to memory.

The way your brows knit adorably when you frowned at Akiteru. The hint of pink tongue peeking through parted lips as you concentrated with laser-focus during your studies. The soft curves of your thighs flexing as you'd settle next to him on the couch.

Each seemingly innocuous observation was seared into Tsukishima's consciousness, hoarded and endlessly examined in his quieter moments like a dragon with its plundered treasures. You became a fixation - the sole point of equilibrium in his turbulent sea of adolescent turmoil and fragile self-worth.

And with that fixation came the bitter, curdling stain of jealousy and resentment toward his brother whenever Akiteru was the recipient of your unguarded grins, your teasing quips, your casual touches. It should have been Tsukishima on the receiving end of that affection, those tantalizing glimpses into who you truly were behind the facade of pure sunshine.

So he pushed you away, reliable as the turning of the seasons. Each friendly overture, every attempt to draw the younger Tsukishima into your invigorating orbit, was rebuffed with chalky disdain and steadily more acidic barbs. If he couldn't possess the closeness he craved, could not make you solely his, then he would take petty satisfaction in making your interactions as antagonistic and unpleasant as possible.

At least that way, when you inevitably drifted out of their lives for good as you and Akiteru grew up and moved on, the final shreds of Tsukishima's attachment to you would be severed cleanly. His descent into hell would be complete.

By the time Tsukishima was in high school, his once bright and shiny infatuation had fully warped into something darker, grittier - a compulsion that simmered insidiously beneath his carefully crafted ennui.

You still came around occasionally, social spheres intertwined through your unshakable bond with Akiteru. But Tsukishima was no longer the eager, energetic child who fawned over your presence. At 16, he regarded you through lowered lashes and a veil of shuttered disinterest, shoulders hunched in apparent nonchalance.

But beneath that indifferent veneer, he studied you with a new, ravenous sort of hunger. He drank in the gentle swell of your breasts straining against cotton shirts, eyes tracing the feminine flare of your hips before snapping away guiltily. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck as inappropriate thoughts crept incessantly into the shadowy recesses of his mind.

More than anything, Tsukishima longed to provoke a reaction from you any way he could - to thoroughly shatter that serene, put-together front and expose the rawer facets of your spirit that Akiteru was firmly embedded in. He discovered a guilty sort of gratification in needling you, in watching your brows pinch and those full lips purse in displeasure.

"How's the view from that ivory tower, Princess?" The mocking jeer dripped from Tsukishima's lips as he slouched further into the couch cushions. You'd let yourself into the Tsukishima residence as usual, breezing through with a familiar comfort that made something twist viciously in Tsukishima's gut.

You paused in the entryway, shooting him an arch look. "Delightful, as always, thanks for asking. No snide remarks from the misanthropic peanut gallery today?" Your tone was laced with faux sweetness.

Tsukishima scoffed loudly. "That's just the dry wit you've come to despise me for." He knew he should quit while he was ahead, but something diabolical unfurled in his chest at the prospect of getting a genuine rise out of you.

"Though I can't exactly blame you for feeling pissy. It must be rough being a broke college student indebted to my family's charity when Aki-nii takes pity and lets you crash here..."

He trailed off meaningfully, lips curling into a derisive sneer as he took petty delight in the flash of humiliation and anger that flickered across your features. Your cheeks colored furiously, but Tsukishima's sharpened senses zeroed in on the slight part of your lips, the rise and fall of your chest as you struggled to control your breathing.

"You arrogant little shit," you spat, any attempt at civility abandoned. "Is this something you get off on? Tearing people down to make yourself feel better about what a pathetic excuse for a human being you are?"

Inwardly, Tsukishima preened at having successfully riled you up. Your scorching anger was so much better than the nonchalant cordiality that came from simply coexisting on the periphery of Akiteru's inner circle. This ire, this passion - it meant you saw him, truly saw the young man he'd become instead of the pesky kid brother to be dismissed.

But what really captivated Tsukishima was the tantalizing flush riding high on your cheekbones, the slightly disheveled state of your hair where you'd no doubt run agitated fingers through it. He wanted to thoroughly dismantle your poise, to unravel you completely and revel in the ravished aftermath.

"Maybe a little," he murmured huskily, molten eyes roving over the swell of your lips and the tempting stretch of your shirt across your chest. "If you're offering something more...stimulating."

The shock and confused hurt that flickered across your features struck Tsukishima like a physical blow, momentarily robbing the breath from his lungs. This wasn't what he'd wanted - to genuinely wound you. He tamped down the nauseated guilt rapidly unfurling in his gut, shoving it into a distant recess of his mind.

This was for the best, he told himself sternly. To wrench himself free of this sick obsession that seemed to deepen and fester with each passing year. If he burned all his bridges, salted the earth of your relationship until only bitter ruin remained, maybe then he could escape the gravitic pull of his compulsion.

But as you whirled on your heel, storming from the Tsukishima household with purposeful strides, a dim part of him knew the truth. There would be no deliverance, no peace from this hell of his own making. He was utterly, inescapably possessed by his fixation on you.

Tsukishima's fists clenched impotently as he watched you go, dark appetite roiling like the churning of a brewing storm barely contained beneath his skin.

In the weeks and months that followed, a new dynamic took shape between you and Tsukishima - one charged with antagonistic tension, rife with unspoken challenge. Like ill-fated celestial bodies, your respective orbits seemed to contract inexorably despite both parties' attempts at maintaining distance.

You still frequented the Tsukishima household with familiar ease, though your interactions with the youngest brother were now clipped and edged with palpable hostility. Tsukishima met you thrust for thrust, deflecting your biting remarks with indolent indifference or firing back with surgical precision to lacerate your composure.

But beneath his sardonic visage, an incessant hunger blazed. He found his gaze lingering on the plush curves of your mouth as you spoke, trailing down the delicious swell of your breasts in quiet moments when you were distracted. Tsukishima's fingers twitched with the phantom urge to reach out and map the lines of your body, to discover whether your skin was truly as soft as it looked.

The tension built to a crescendo one sweltering summer evening. You and Akiteru were lounging in the backyard, lingering over the last dredges of grilled food and chilled beverages. Tsukishima stepped outside, shirtless and barefoot after an ill-timed volleyball practice.

His gaze snagged immediately on the smooth expanse of your bare legs, mercilessly exposed by the tiny athletic shorts you wore. The dusky twilight gloom seemed to sharpen your features into an intoxicating contrast of light and shadow - the pert tip of your nose, those pillowy lips parted on a laugh at something Akiteru murmured.

You caught sight of Tsukishima loitering in the doorway like a silent wraith, amusement morphing into a slight frown. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, beanpole?" The mild insult lacked any genuine venom.

Tsukishima shrugged one loose shoulder lazily. "What, and miss the chance to bask in your radiant presence?" His tone dripped with saccharine insincerity.

You scoffed loudly, a few loose tendrils of hair fluttering against your neck as you shook your head. The motion drew Tsukishima's heated stare like a magnet. He wanted to skim his fingers over that rapidly fluttering pulse point, to discover whether your heart raced with the same forbidden thrill as his own.

"Why don't you give it a rest already?" You sighed in exasperation. "This whole act of yours is exhausting. What will it take for you to stop being such a massive jackass all the time?"

"Hmm maybe if you asked nicely..." Tsukishima purred, taking a few slow, predatory steps closer until he loomed over your seated form. "And demonstrated proper motivation."

The suggestive weight of his words hung thickly in the humid air between you, viscous and suffocating. Tsukishima watched hungrily as your pupils blew wide, lips parting in a silent, shocked inhale. Satisfaction and something darker - something ravenous and scorching - licked through his veins like wildfire.

He drank in the sight of your chest rising and falling shallowly, the pretty flush riding high on your cheekbones while you struggled to mask your rattled reaction behind weak derision.

"Wow, so this is what you've been reduced to? Pathetic."

The scathing assessment ought to have doused the banked embers of Tsukishima's arousal. But he found he craved more - not your disgust, but the visceral emotion that roiled beneath. The sight of you thoroughly unraveled, stripped of your endless veneer of affable composure.

"Nothing pathetic about being honest with my...desires." His voice dropped to a low, gravelly purr. You sucked in a sharp breath when he abruptly crouched next to you, close enough for his warmth to bleed onto your arm.

Tsukishima's eyes roamed insolently over the delicate hollow of your throat, the gentle swell of cleavage peeking from your loose neckline. So close now, he could make out the fluttering pulse beneath your jaw, the subtle outline of your nipples through the thin fabric.

All he had to do was reach out, boldly bridge that searing distance between you, and -

"Kei! That's enough, man." Akiteru's hand landed heavily on Tsukishima's shoulder, shattering the trance. Tsukishima's gaze snapped up to find his brother regarding him with a bemused sort of confusion and concern. You sat beside them, rooted in place and wide-eyed with mingled disbelief and trepidation.

With an inward snarl, Tsukishima shrugged off his brother's grip and straightened to his full height. Outwardly, his expression remained one of languid, hooded disinterest. But inside, a tumultuous storm of thwarted desire, petulant frustration and clawing obsession swirled like a maelstrom preparing to burst its confines.

A muscle in his jaw ticked while he regarded you imperiously. You visibly swallowed under the weight of his stare, hands twisting in your lap. Tsukishima committed every minute detail of your ruffled appearance to scorching memory before spinning on his heel and stalking away without a word.

His skin felt too tight, overhot, as if branding itself permanently with the impression of this moment - of how badly he had shattered the fragile bounds of propriety in his reckless pursuit of your undoing. There would be no coming back from this, no soothing balm of remedied boundaries or reassurances of indifference.

Tsukishima had allowed the darkness to breach its subterranean chambers and spill slobberingly into the piercing light of day. And some primal, depraved part of himself delighted in it.

In the crucible of late adolescence, any restraint Tsukishima once possessed over his baser urges and obtrusive thoughts withered away. Your presence had become an obsession unfurled, a compulsion to be sated at all costs - dignity and propriety be damned.

He sought you out like a man possessed, intentionally insinuating himself into situations where your paths would cross no matter how tenuous the pretext. Tsukishima drank in every searing detail of your features with ravenous focus, cataloging each fitful breath and bitten-off gasp whenever his words or proximity provoked a reaction.

Your relationships with Akiteru strained under the weight of Tsukishima's unchecked antagonism. Undaunted, he would needle you relentlessly, slinging barbs and salacious insinuations with the cold precision of a sniper's rifle until your composure splintered.

The way your nostrils flared when you struggled to reign in your temper, or the rapid flutter of your pulse hammering beneath the delicate hollow of your throat - each detail was seared into Tsukishima's consciousness and savored in the quiet, sweltering moments when he was alone.

At eighteen, the full flush of adulthood brought with it a new,remorseless intensity to Tsukishima's unhealthy fixation. No longer content to merely bask in your flustered unraveling, he ached to systematically dismantle every aspect of your self-restraint until you were left debauched and keening against him, rational mind whited out by unbearable pleasure.

One evening, you'd come over to collect some belongings in preparation for moving out. Tsukishima emerged from the stifling humidity of his bedroom, towel slung low on his lean hips, to find you rummaging through a box of miscellany.

His calloused fingers clenched spasmodically at his sides as you bent at the waist, shapely backside straining against form-fitting denim as you rifled through the clutter. Tsukishima's mouth went dry as cotton, eyes tracing the gentle inward curve of your spine before snapping instinctively to the generous swell of your ass.

An inarticulate grunt forced its way past his frozen lips before he could think better of it. You jolted upright, whirling to face him with wide, startled eyes and parted lips. Dimly, Tsukishima registered the flush that creeped over your cheekbones as you processed his state of undress, gaze skating unsubtly over the sculpted planes of his abdomen before guiltily averting.

"Uh, didn't realize you were...around," you mumbled, suddenly flustered in a way he found utterly captivating. Tsukishima's blood thrummed with smoldering satisfaction at having thrown you off-balance so thoroughly with just his physical presence.

His signature smirk was firmly back in place as he oh-so-casually padded closer, movements loose and predatory. "My apologies, I'll be sure to send the butler with my arrival announcements next time."

You scowled at the mocking jibe, seeming to regain some semblance of equilibrium...until Tsukishima's fingertips ghosted over the dip of your waist in passing. A harsh, shuddering inhale stuttered through your lips at the fleeting contact, gaze snapping up to lock with his. The weight of his heavy-lidded stare, dark and inscrutable, made you visibly swallow.

"S-stop looking at me like that, you creep," you stammered, curling inward defensively as you clutched the forgotten box to your midriff.

Tsukishima hummed, a low rumbling purr of a sound as he boldly sidestepped until the solid wall of his chest grazed your shoulder. You sucked in a sharp breath, freezing in place as he leaned down until his mouth was a hairsbreadth from your ear. He could smell the clean, faintly floral scent of your shampoo, feel the heated puff of your unsteady breathing fanning over his collarbones.

"Looking at you how, exactly?" Tsukishima murmured, allowing a teasing lilt to bleed into each velvet syllable. He turned his head a fraction, letting his lips brush ever-so-lightly against the curved shell of your ear as he spoke. Gratification sang through his blood as you shivered involuntarily against him.

"Like the pathetic, desperate thing you are, gawking at me like a piece of meat," you shot back in a threadbare tone that lacked any genuine conviction.

A rasping chuckle rattled from Tsukishima's chest in response. With agonizing slowness, he shifted until his nose skimmed over the rapid pulse fluttering just beneath your jaw - until his lips hovered a scant hairsbreadth from yours, so close he could feel your shallow, trembling exhalations ghosting over them.

"And what if I was?" he breathed, voice pitched low enough to rasp like gravel in his throat. "What if I told you how badly I want to - "

You cut him off with a strangled noise, abruptly shoving him away with an uncoordinated flail of limbs and putting a few feet of distance between you. Your expression twisted into one of mingled outrage and bewilderment.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Kei!?" You hissed acidicly, clutching the forgotten box closer like a shield as you struggled to recapture an authoritative tone. "Was this some kind of twisted game to you? Some fucked up power play to make me uncomfortable?"

Tsukishima simply stared back impassively, expression a carefully curated mask of nonchalant indifference despite the molten churn of need and thwarted yearning simmering like a banked fire in his veins. His tongue traced the plush swell of his lower lip slowly, greedily snagging on the taste of your floral shampoo still clinging to his senses.

With steady, unhurried movements, he thumbed the towel slung low on his hips, drawing your gaze like a magnet to the subtle shift of musculature in his lower abdomen. Your breath audibly hitched, gaze darkening with a mixture of reproach and that achingly familiar spark of restrained want.

"Does acting coy and clueless really work for anyone?" He rumbled at last, deep timbre threaded with enough blatant suggestion to stain the air between you a virulent shade of crimson. "I don't play games... When I say I want something, I pursue it with a singular, ruthless focus."

He held your turbulent gaze steadily, letting the full weight of his obsession - his absolute compulsion towards you - resonate in the pulsing silence. Your shuddering inhale echoed like a thunderclap before you seemed to rally some semblance of inner fortitude.

"You...you're disgusting," you rasped, retreating a few more stumbling paces towards the door. But the revulsion in your tone felt brittle, a flimsy construct struggling against the rip tide of molten tension steadily encroaching like a noxious vapor.

Tsukishima remained rooted, expression one of glacial detachment as he regarded you steadily. Something like pain flickered across your features before being swiftly smothered behind a mask of bland affront. With a final, ricocheting glance of...something Tsukishima couldn't decipher, you whirled on your heel and fled.

Only once the thud of the front door slamming echoed through the tense stillness did the younger Tsukishima exhale a low, ragged breath. His fingers unclenched from their white-knuckled grip on the towel as a menagerie of roiling emotion - bitter frustration, banked exhilaration, the lingering echoes of soul-searing obsession - seeped into the arid recesses of his psyche.

No matter how explosive the collision when your respective orbits intersected, Tsukishima knew he was caught in the inexorable pull of your gravity well. It was only a matter of time before he went spinning, wildly out of control, and dragged you down with him into the pitch black singularity of his fixation.

The weeks and months after your heated encounter were punctuated by stretches of strained silence, broken only by explosive bouts of argument and bitter recrimination that echoed through the Tsukishima household.

You still came around with decreasing frequency, but the casual warmth and easy rapport between you and Akiteru steadily decompressed into stiff, hollowed-out pantomimes of that former intimacy. Akiteru's brow furrowed in terse confusion whenever you and Tsukishima would inevitably gravitate towards each other, only for the atmosphere to buckle and splinter beneath the weight of barbed words and cutting rejoinders.

At the heart of the maelstrom, Tsukishima nursed his resentment and festering want like a raw, throbbing wound - poking and prodding at it in quiet moments until the searing flare of emotion was all he could comprehend. Nothing seemed to slake his hunger; no scalding confrontation or seething silence adequately diluted the sheer, galling compulsion he felt towards you.

It all came cindering down one evening when you appeared unexpectedly on the Tsukishima's doorstep looking resigned and conflicted. Tsukishima answered the door, trademark scowl firmly in place despite the electric frisson of awareness that shot through him upon finding you framed in the entryway.

"Not that I'm trying to impede on your busy schedule of antagonizing literally everyone around you, but I need to talk to Akiteru," you stated in a flat tone devoid of any real bite.

Tsukishima arched a querulous brow in response, gaze skimming insolently over you in a silent assessment. Whatever he found in your bearing must have piqued his interest, because his lips curved into a derisive smirk as he leaned casually against the door frame.

"He's out running some errands with mom earlier. But please, feel free to regale me with whatever trite nonsense is on your mind. I'll be sure to pass along the most banal details to Aki later."

A fractured exhale that might have been a mirthless chuckle ghosted through your lips at his mocking tone. "How gracious of you," you countered in clipped fashion before continuing in a lower register. "Actually, it might be better to talk to you first."

With that opening gambit, you brushed past Tsukishima into the entranceway, shoving down the fissures of unease that bloomed as his intense stare followed your clipped movements. Something about the air of grim resolution you carried set his nerves jangling faintly, a harbinger of upheaval to come.

You turned to face Tsukishima fully once inside, squaring your shoulders as if bracing for impact. He regarded you with poorly veiled curiosity despite the mask of sardonic aloofness he attempted to maintain.

"Well?" He prompted after a protracted moment of tense silence. "Do go on and enlighten me with whatever banalities have you seeking an audience."

You worried your lower lip for a beat, gaze skittering away from the weight of his stare before marshaling your resolve with a fortifying breath. When you spoke, the words emerged in a tumultuous rush.

"I'm leaving soon. Transferring to a university across the country for my Master's program." Your fingers twisted together fretfully. "Which means I won't be around much anymore to...whatever this is between us."

Tsukishima felt his breath stall in his chest as the implications galvanized in his mind. Leaving. Putting an entire continent's distance between your respective orbits. The prospect prompted a visceral spike of simultaneous relief and soul-rending loss that curdled like overspent adrenaline in his veins.

Perhaps sensing his unraveling composure, you barreled forward in a preemptive strike. "Look, I'm not naive enough to pretend there isn't...tension, or whatever you want to call it, between us. But it's gotten out of hand, Kei. It's unhealthy." You exhaled a shaky breath, expression broadcasting your internal discord. "I think some permanent distance might be what we both need to finally move past...this."

Your final syllables hung heavily between you, weighted with years of fraught history and the specter of unvoiced emotion. Tsukishima groped inwardly for some lifeline or anchoring retort, but his usually glib tongue felt expansively mired. For once, his vaunted intellect offered no scorching rebuttals or snide deflections - only a viscous, thunderous silence ringing with unspoken implication.

And in that sweeping void, the truth he'd spent the better half of a decade submerging beneath scathing petulance and obsessive fixation finally ruptured to the surface in a scalding torrent.

"You think I want this?" His voice emerged in a hoarse snarl edged with raw desperation. You started back half a step at the sheer venom saturating his tone, lips parting on an unvoiced query. But Tsukishima pressed forward inexorably.

"This maddening, inescapable compulsion that's haunted me since I was just a stupid kid? You honestly believe I asked for this relentless torment, this pathetic obsession that swallows every other facet of who I am?"

He was dimly aware of his harsh breathing punctuating each bitten-off phrase, of the erratic pulsing of his heartbeat like bellows stoking banked embers into a conflagration. But the self-disgust, the seething bitterness and all-consuming want roared to the forefront with cataclysmic force as he at last locked eyes with you fully.

"I didn't choose to become consumed by you!" He rasped, voice descending to a guttural rasp that seemed to reverberate through the scorched air between you. "To have every petty interaction, every insignificant encounter burned into my consciousness from the moment you seared your way into my existence!"

You gaped at him, lips shaping soundless words as turmoil washed across your features - quickly subsumed beneath burgeoning waves of pity and dawning comprehension. The aborted syllables shriveled on your tongue as he advanced a step, then another, until the static charge of simmering tension crackled like lightning just before the strike.

Your breath left you in a shuddering exhale as he towered over you, close enough now that the tangled knot of your respective scents - sweat and clean soap and the powdery hint of detergent - coalesced into an intoxicating amalgam. Close enough to make out the minute tremors wracking your frame as adrenaline flooded both your systems.

"You think I wanted this?" Tsukishima breathed again, voice fracturing on the lash as remorse and self-loathing parted like a rent veil to fully expose the caustic truth blistering through his veins. "To dissect and crave every infinitesimal part of you until the hunger gnawed like pestilence through my skin?"

In the slanted beams of dying sunshine filtering through the window, your complexion looked sallow and drawn - a sickly grey pallor that only threw the high sweep of your cheekbones and the plump bow of your lips into sharper relief. Gooseflesh rippled over the exposed canvas of your forearms as you stared back at Tsukishima, all bravado and derision bled dry as the weight of comprehension finally settled fully.

In that splintered tableau of anguish and reluctant revelation frozen between you, Tsukishima's entire universe whited out into the jagged fissures of truth he could no longer contain.

He closed the final, harrowing distance in a singular, insistent movement - stopping just shy of collision when you sucked in a panicked breath at his abrupt proximity. His chest rasped against yours with each frantic inhale as you pinned him with a look of pure, visceral trepidation.

But Tsukishima was beyond caring as realization cleaved through his consciousness like a ruinous storm finally breaking. For once, he eschewed any artifice of composure in favor of allowing the distillation of his absolute fixation to bleed freely into the roiling heat between your bodies.

"I don't want this," he reiterated, keen gaze burning paths over the rapid flutter of your pulse hammering beneath your jaw. "But I can no more resist the pull of you than a man can resist the inevitability of his own annihilation."

The words hung like a blasphemous mantra in the hair's breadth of electrified space separating your lips. Tsukishima felt the molten slide of your exhale feathering over the curve of his mouth as his name ghosted out in a sibilant whisper.

"Kei, I - "

Whatever feeble objection you may have offered lodged like shrapnel in your larynx as his hand lifted of its own volition. Calloused fingertips ghosted a blistering path from the graceful column of your throat, over the racing cadence of your pulse point, until coming to rest like a branding iron cupping the vulnerable hinges of your jaw.

You went preternaturally still, body locked in a statue's rigor as every molecule of air ionized between you like the portentous ether before a thermonuclear detonation. Perhaps sensing his fleeting window of opportunity, Tsukishima acted before what little remained of his sanity eroded completely.

In a movement more akin to an eclipse than any earthly burst of momentum, he slanted his mouth over yours - searing and inescapable as the electromagnetic shockwave announcing imminent oblivion. The last vestiges of his restraint and composure finally ruptured with the full-bodied jolt that lanced through him upon that first, cataclysmic point of contact.

This was it - the ruination of everything, the scorched-earth capitulation to his darkest compulsions and obsessive fixation. Years' worth of repressed hunger and bitter self-loathing and unbearable yearning finally sublimating into sheer, harrowing rapture as your lips parted compliantly beneath Tsukishima's insistent coaxing.

He drank in your shuddering gasp like a drowning man gulping blessed oxygen. The tang of salt and desperation mingled on his tongue as he surged deeper, robbed of any coherent thought save the all-encompassing fervor singeing every nerve ending. He mapped the slick, velvety recesses of your mouth with relentless focus for every precious second you allowed him this profane indulgence.

But all too soon, reality came slamming back into sickening clarity as you abruptly, vehemently wrenched yourself free. Pain lanced white-hot through Tsukishima's skull as his lower back impacted the wall in recoil from the force of your shove. He stood hunched and winded from the shock of impact for several disorienting heartbeats before raising his gaze to you.

You shook like a birch sapling in a gale, one hand pressed to your ravaged lips as if to trap the echoes of Tsukishima's rapacious violation against them. Anguish, outrage, confusion - a maelstrom of emotion held sway on your features before congealing into the ravaged mask of someone whose trust had been profoundly broken.

"I have to go," you bit out tremulously past the fingers still branding your mouth. Before Tsukishima could summon any articulation or plea for reprieve, you whirled on your heel and lurched towards the exit.

"Don't..." The feeble utterance strangled out of him, little more than a ghoul's rasp that you either didn't hear or chose to ignore. And then you were gone, the sound of the front door ricocheting shut echoing like the clanging finality of prison doors sealing fatefully behind you.

Tsukishima remained rooted and winded in the aftermath of his unraveling for an interminable stretch - wheezing agonized breaths past the anguished cataract of shredded self-control and remorse. When he finally unfurled from his hunched posture enough to properly look around, it was as if he were perceiving the world through an entirely new cosmological lens.

Where before every surface and familiar trapping of his childhood home had functioned as a mnemonic trigger for past memories of you, a radiant fixture seared into every insignificant crevice, it now produced only the ghostly echoes of that escalating tension finally reaching its terminal singularity.

The looming implosion of their relationship - of that inextricable tether binding him soul-deep to you - had officially commenced. And not through any external force, but by the sheer gravitational lensing produced by his own singularly depraved need to pull you into his orbit no matter the cost.

In that hollowing moment of ruination, Tsukishima's throat constricted around the cloying bite of truth and inevitability. There would be no salvaging this, no prospect of atonement or reconciliation now that the scorched, irradiated husk of his obsession lay in ruinous clarity before him.

You would leave - escape this harrowing gravity well before he could irrevocably drag you down into the depthless, all-consuming singularity of his fixation. And he would remain endlessly, inescapably haunted by the inextricable warp of your absence seared into the fabric of his existence.

Hell, he realized with harrowing finality, was not an external condition to transcend - but an inward, eternal torment wrought by his own hand and irredeemable actions.

a few years later

The rivulets of condensation trickling down the passenger window seemed to coalesce into the murky portent of gathering storm clouds on the horizon as Tsukishima stared unseeingly out at the passing scenery. An inexplicable sense of trepidation took root in the pit of his stomach, blossoming insidiously with each passing kilometer marker.

"You've been uncharacteristically brooding this whole ride," Akiteru's voice broke through the weighted silence, tone edged with faint bemusement. "Everything okay, Kei?"

Tsukishima shifted his gaze impassively to meet his brother's reflected in the glass before allowing it to skate away dismissively. "I'm fine. Just wondering why this desperately needed to happen on such short notice."

A humorless scoff filtered from the driver's seat. "Because you're the one who waited until practically the last minute to find housing for your graduate program starting in a few weeks."

A reasonable response, logically speaking. But Tsukishima's unease stemmed from a deeper wellspring of dread that had plagued him since Akiteru first proposed this impromptu "solution" to his living situation.

"I'm not an idiot, Aki," he groused, unable to completely disguise the petulance that crept into his inflection. "There's got to be more to this than some random person suddenly needing a roommate."

His brother was uncharacteristically silent for a protracted beats before releasing a longsuffering sigh. "Look, I know things have been...complicated, between you two - "

The words sparked like a flint igniting tinder in Tsukishima's psyche. His gaze snapped back to Akiteru, heavy-lidded eyes narrowing imperceptibly as comprehension crystallized with sinking inevitability. Of course it was you. It was always, inextricably you - forever the fixed point around which the most harrowing, inescapable forces in their universe orbited.

"Pull over," he bit out in a deceptively even tone that did nothing to mask the torrent of emotion swiftly cresting within him. His caustic rejoinder clearly took Akiteru by surprise, because his brother's brows pulled together in transparent confusion as they passed beneath the haloed sphere of a streetlamp.

"What? Kei, we're almost - "

"I said pull the fucking car over," Tsukishima repeated with much more heat saturating his words this time. The livid desperation gripping his chest precluded any coherent thought beyond the overwhelming urge to escape the increasingly claustrophobic confines of the vehicle before he succumbed to the panic swiftly metastasizing beneath his sternum.

To his credit, Akiteru must have sensed the urgency undergirding Tsukishima's insistence, because he tersely maneuvered them into the nearest vacant parking lot without further protest. No sooner had the gearshift clunked into park than Tsukishima burst from the car with enough force to make it shudder precariously in his wake.

The brisk night air did little to abate the asphyxiating sense of entrapment and dissonant realization that rolled over him in waves. Tsukishima paced several steps away, calloused fingers digging sharpened grooves into his already disheveled hair as he struggled to articulate the discordant maelstrom swirling through his mind.

"You can't honestly expect me to do this, Aki." He didn't mean for the words to emerge sounding quite so plaintive, tinged with the undercurrents of raw vulnerability he normally kept so rigorously submerged. An image of you, forever etched into Tsukishima's consciousness like a holy relic emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids, loomed in stark relief.

"I know things ended...poorly between you two back then," Akiteru ventured cautiously as he too emerged from the vehicle, lines of consternation creasing his brow. "But it's been years, Kei. You both could probably use some closure, or at least the chance to bury the past like rational ad- "

"Closure?" The syllable detonated from Tsukishima's lips in a strangled scoff edged with raw derision. He whirled to face his brother fully, not caring if the naked anguish he normally kept so ruthlessly restrained bled through now. Distantly, he registered his fingers trembling - an outward manifestation of the destabilizing architecture of his composure crumbling away.

"What part of being fatally obsessed and wanting to fucking ravish someone from the moment you first laid eyes on them screams 'rational adult' to you, Aki?" The words tasted like razors on his tongue in their excoriation, laid bare for the first time without artifice or deflection.

Akiteru's expression slackened with muted shock, lips shaping a soundless 'oh' as realization colored the slates of his comprehension with new, damning clarity. The heavy veil of silence suspended between them carried the portentous finality of a theater hush before the curtain rose on tragedy's climax.

When Akiteru finally mustered the wherewithal to respond, his tone was carefully modulated in the same hushed cadences one might use to coax a wounded animal free of its den. "I didn't...know it went that deep for you, Kei. That it evolved into something so...unhealthy."

Tsukishima shook his head minutely, an economic expenditure of movement that still somehow managed to convey the crushing weight of his despair and resignation. Of course Akiteru wouldn't have guessed at the true, festering depths of his fixation during those turbulent years of adolescence muddled by petulance and barely-leashed antagonism.

Tsukishima had gone to great lengths to camouflage the searing compulsion and unreality, burying it beneath cloaking layers of indifference and hostility. Even once he'd gained enough self-awareness to recognize the insidious obsession eating away at his faculties, he ruthlessly stifled and rationalized it - ruthlessly cauterizing those ragged, furtively vulnerable admissions of soul-deep need and unholy yearning behind rictus masks of disdain.

"Unhealthy doesn't even cover it," he rasped at last, unable to stifle his guttural scoff of mordant incredulity. "What I felt - what I still feel..." The admission emerged in a ragged exhale, abraded by the gravel layered across each vowel. His gaze skated away from Akiteru's stunned regard, instead fixing somewhere in the middle distance as his mind's eye painted the indelible, endlessly revisited portrait of your memory in aching clarity.

"It's like being cursed with an endless, unquenchable thirst," Tsukishima forced himself to continue in a brittle tone stripped of any artifice or evasion. "No matter how much you drink or how temporarily sated you become, your throat just opens up in new cracks and fissures, parched and ravenous as the desert itself."

His brother absorbed the hollowed confession in pronounced, weighty silence. Even in his periphery, Tsukishima noted the faint motions as Akiteru's throat struggled uselessly to formulate a reasonable response to such harrowing unvarnished truth. Finally, a hoarse utterance punctured the crackling stillness stretched taut between them:

"You never told me it was like that for you. That your...feelings were so intense."

The naked concern and regret woven through his brother's voice, like fine threads desperately stitching together the tattered, guttering remains of some newly revealed tragedy, prompted an unexpected stir of bitter derision to buoy Tsukishima's chest.

An acrid, joyless laugh spilled from his lips before he could think better of it, the pique of disparate emotion hardening the consonants until the abrasion rasped like an open wound. "How could I tell anyone?" He threw back, indelicate challenge glinting like shards of deadly silica in his stare. "Can you even begin to imagine confessing to feeling that...wretched hunger for your own brother's best friend?"

Akiteru flinched, the minute compression of his features accompanied by the aborted twitch of his fingers that clearly betrayed the instinctive urge to reach out instinctively - to attempt triage on the gaping disrepair laid bare before him. Tsukishima could practically envision the discordant static of thoughts and impulses rattling chaotically through his brother's psyche, could track the struggle inherent as Akiteru processed the full scope of Tsukishima's torrid, compulsive fixation.

The silence that echoed in the pause yawned between them like the oppressive density of a singularity, heavy with inexorable pull and scorching implication in equal measure. At last, Akiteru seemed to settle on his next overture, drawing forth all his faculties of earnest persuasion and fraternal care as he girded himself to proceed.

"Kei...I don't think I'll ever fully understand the scope or circumstances that created such intensity for you," he began carefully, each word acutely shaped with empathetic weight. "No one can rationalize compulsions like that born of unchecked emotion and...improper attachment pathways in the psyche."

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes against his brother's solemn, imploring stare, suddenly wary of where this speech seemed destined based on the familiar undulating cadences of Akiteru attempting to arbitrate harsh truths. But rather than demur or equivocate, his older brother pressed on unflinchingly.

"But this inability to let go, to find peace or detachment from those unbalanced impulses...it's only going to keep poisoning you, Kei. Destroying you and anyone else who gets caught in the blast radius, over and over in an endless cycle of turmoil."

A hairline crack spiderwebbed across Tsukishima's composure as the implication of his brother's words registered with the ruthless precision of a killing stroke. He felt his jaw flex in minute increments, a ticking chronometercharting the encroaching undertow of emotion threatening to drag him beneath its roiling surface once more.

"Are you suggesting," he began with meticulous slowness, tonnage of rebuke held in tense abeyance, "that I force myself back into her orbit just so I can...what? Overcome this, like some pathetic addict going cold turkey?"

Akiteru exhaled a sound that may have been a mirthless chuckle. "When you put it like that, it sounds-"

"Delusional? Self-destructive, even?" Tsukishima supplied archly, unable to completely mask the caustic edge of anger galvanizing beneath his sternum like a corrosive malignancy. "All I would accomplish is opening those fissures anew, Aki. Awakening that...relentless obsession all over again while offering up her peace of mind as collateral damage on the altar of my depravity."

Despite Tsukishima's raw confession about the depths of his fixation on you, Akiteru remained resolute.

"I hear what you're saying, Kei. Truly, I do," he said, squeezing Tsukishima's shoulder with a heaviness that belied the gravity of his next words. "But avoiding this situation, running from those compulsions...it's only going to leave you trapped forever."

Tsukishima opened his mouth to protest, rebuke already sharpened on his tongue. But Akiteru raised his hand to forestall the objection.

"You need to face this head-on. Confront those feelings, that obsession, in a healthy, controlled way - with me by your side." His brother's gaze burned with fierce conviction. "It's the only path forward to finally finding peace, Kei. You've been in this gravity well of torment for too damn long."

A hollowed pause stretched between them as Akiteru's decree hung suspended - a lifeline and tether all at once. Tsukishima felt it resonate through his very marrow, a tremulous clarion call commodified to the fractured, haunted planes of his psyche.

Finally, after what felt like an interminable, sanity-eroding instant, he managed a tight nod of grim acquiescence.

"Alright," he agreed in a rasp that scorched the tender abraded tissues of his throat. "I'll do it your way, Aki. For now..."

The last two words hovered replete with unspoken menace and conflict yet to come. But Akiteru's brilliant answering smile blazed like a gaseous nebula being kindled to stellar birth, bright with profound gratitude and steadfast determination.

"That's all I can ask, little brother. One step at a time."

The climb up the apartment building's stairs felt interminable, each step weighted with steadily mounting trepidation. Tsukishima couldn't deny the queasy roil of apprehension in his gut as he ascended behind Akiteru towards your door.

It had been years - years spent meticulously constructing psychic barricades and fortifying his defenses against the reckless undertow of obsession that had once threatened to drown him utterly. Yet now, at his brother's cajoling insistence, Tsukishima found himself being towed inexorably back towards the gravitational singularity of his darkest compulsions.

"You don't have to look so grim," Akiteru quipped over his shoulder, either sensing Tsukishima's disquiet or simply attempting to buoy the strained atmosphere. "This is a good thing, remember? A chance to finally exorcise those demons."

Tsukishima responded with a noncommittal grunt, gaze fixed forwards as they reached the landing. He could have gone his entire life without needing to "exorcise" the all-consuming fixation that had warped and contorted his psyche for so long. Better to plaster over those gaping psychic wounds and let them scar in isolation than to recklessly reopen them.

But Akiteru was nothing if not relentlessly optimistic about reshaping Tsukishima's mindset on this. His brother knocked briskly against the nondescript apartment door, then turned to flash an encouraging smile as the muffled sound of footsteps approached from within.

Tsukishima felt his jaw tense automatically as the deadbolt rattled and the door swung inward. And there you were, steadying presence and radiant energy blazing into view as if no time at all had passed.

It was like a surgically precise incision scoring through the meticulously maintained scar tissue encapsulating Tsukishima's obsession - disturbing its deceptive quiescence and allowing the tender, inflamed rawness to bleed freely once more. He drank in every nuance of your familiar features with a desperation bordering on offensive, hungrily cataloging the changes brought by the years apart.

Your eyes widened momentarily upon catching sight of him lingering behind Akiteru. Tsukishima watched as you visibly startled, then attempted to mask the reaction behind a perfunctory smile that didn't quite reach the shuttered wariness lurking in your gaze.

"Akiteru, hi! I wasn't expecting..." You trailed off, throwing a sidelong glance towards Tsukishima that felt like the audible screech of brakes on pavement. An awkward pause suspended between you all before his brother jumped into the breach.

"Yeah, sorry for springing this on you a bit last minute," Akiteru began amiably, using the tone of gentle persuasiveness that came so naturally. "There were some snags with Kei's living arrangements for school. I mentioned your place had an extra room, and, well..."

Tsukishima kept his expression carefully blanked as you pivoted towards him fully, searching his facade for any tells or clues. He could practicably sense the disquiet radiating from you in dense clusters, even diluted through years of separation and whatever attempts at cordiality still persisted between you.

"I see..." You said at length, letting the words unspool like a weighted sounding line dropped into fathomless depths. "Well, I suppose if it's not an imposition..."

"Of course not!" Akiteru assured with forced brightness, clearly sensing the hairline fractures spiderwebbing through the atmosphere. "Kei will be on his best behavior, I promise."

The subtle cant of your brow conveyed skepticism, but you regrouped with remarkable poise by pulling the door open wider in mute invitation.

"I'll just get the spare room ready then," you offered, tempering your tone to a bland neutrality that was somehow even more disquieting.

Tsukishima felt your sidelong stare pierce him like sharpened needlepoints as you brushed past towards the interior of the apartment. Despite his best efforts at emotional insularity, self-preservation screamed at him to hold your assessing gaze - to not flinch or compound the smoldering unease with avoidance.

In that fractional span before you turned away fully, Tsukishima saw it - the wariness, the quicksilver flash of emotions strained behind every pragmatic overture of civility. A panged, phantom echo of their adolescence and the caustic hostility that had ultimately incinerated any remaining bonds between you into smoldering ruin.

He sensed the first fissures splintering across the foundation of his defenses, hairline openings that would steadily widen and coalesce with every subsequent reunion with you. Already, like forgotten muscle memories rousing from dormancy, the compulsions were stirring within Tsukishima, stretching their atrophied wings against the constraints that had rendered them inert.

Akiteru clasped his shoulder as you retreated deeper inside, expression caught in that carefully modulated balance of reassurance and solemnity. A cursory exchange of platitudes untangled between the two brothers, words devoid of real meaning like dandelion gauze catching briefly on a razor's edge before fraying away into obscurity.

Tsukishima only managed a tight nod, the barely perceptible incline of his chin feeling like an already defeated concession and prelude to the coming cataclysm years in the making.

No matter how deep he attempted to bury them, how diligently he maintained those rigorous disciplines of restraint, the gravitational lensing distorting every aspect of his existence remained centered upon the implacable starseed of his fixation.

On you.

The first few weeks of cohabiting with you were...an exercise in calculated restraint for Tsukishima. A precarious dance of aptly sidestepping any situation that might rekindle the long-banked embers of his obsession into roaring new life.

He awoke each morning steeling himself against the temptations that awaited - the casual intimacies of sharing living space that rapidly shed their innocuous veneers to reveal newer, more pernicious labyrinths to navigate. Like the first faint wisps of your shampoo fragrance still clinging to the bathroom at dawn, inviting intrusive recollections of you damp and flushed from the shower's steam...or the maddening distraction of your sleep-tousled form passing by on the way to the kitchen as he tried vainly to focus on dissertation notes.

Small moments, inconsequential in their individual pacing. But they chipped away at Tsukishima's meticulously maintained indifference with every subsequent occurrence, eroding the opaque barriers sheltering him from his compulsions' caustic undertow.

You seemed equally ill-at-ease those first few weeks despite your courteous overtures and model-roommate behavior. An overeager brightness laced your casual greetings, punctuated by halting silences and sidelong glances that implied a persistent reserve layered beneath the arduous task of reacquainting as something adjacent to strangers.

But gradually, as the acrid sting of unfamiliarity dispersed like the lingering vapors in a cleared room, your reflexive masks of propriety and decorum towards one another began unraveling into more familiar patterns of behavior.

The loaded pauses became occupied by increasingly barbed small talk, snips of snide commentary and sardonic rejoinders clearly dredged from the muscle memories of your contentious adolescent rapports. Like wading out into a cristal-clear mountain lake, the vanguards of that old dynamic seemed to buoy you both further into familiar depths...even as the potential for something more turbulent and forceful churned in unknowable abyssal provinces.

The first time you outright argued over something utterly trivial - whether Tsukishima had intentionally swapped out all the TV's inputs just to be contrarian - it was like a sluice gate opening. A slipstream through which the long-sublimated currents of antagonism and pithy one-upmanship that had once characterized your relationship came rushing back in a cathartic torrent.

"- honest to god, it's like you derive sustenance from being an obnoxious ass sometimes," you groused heatedly from the opposite end of the sofa. The furrow of your brow and the slight flush riding high on your cheekbones lent your exasperation an intoxicating sort of vigor. "Is that superiority complex really so insatiable, or are you just doing it to get a rise out of me at this point?"

Tsukishima feigned an air of indolent nonchalance, lips twitching with the effort of containing his smirk as you ranted. Truthfully, he'd gone and rearranged the TV inputs on a whim, knowing it would eventually nettle you into this sort of delicious, heated reaction. He lived for moments like these - when the full force of your temper and spirited indignation were focused solely on him and he could bask, shameless and vampiric, in the raw energy of your presence.

"Hmm, could be a little from Column A, a little from Column B," he replied at length, letting his tone drip with layered provocation like honey from a cone. "I'll leave it up to your wildest fantasies and projections to unpack my motivations, though.."

The loaded suggestion woven through his flippant aside didn't go unnoticed. You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes in a gesture of feigned disgust that couldn't quite disguise the full-bodied jolt his words produced. "And there's the charm I haven't missed in the slightest..."

Tsukishima's answering smirk took on an undisguised edge of satisfaction at having successfully thrown you off-kilter - even if only by a hair. "If you're hoping for an apology about the inputs, I have to disappoint. Remorse was one of the first things beaten out of me in childhood."

Your lips pressed into a mulish line, no doubt biting back a retort as Tsukishima's vaguely suggestive flirting ratcheted the tension up another notch. Good - let that uncertainty and trepidation creep in until he thoroughly occupied the forefront of your thoughts, just as you had for him all this time.

There was a gratifying sort of power in keeping you baited like this, angling to provoke that endearingly annoyed blustering that allowed Tsukishima to indulge his fixation under the guise of innocuous needling. Even better when you retaliated in kind, matching acidic wit for acidic wit until the furious sparring devolved into decidedly murkier waters.

The first time he upped the ante physically - casually invading your personal space to emphasize a point or provoking distractingly intimate contact as punctuation to a biting remark - you seemed to freeze up like a computer awaiting instructions. Tsukishima took perverse delight in watching your facial features cycle through a litany of conflicting micro-expressions: surprise, uncertainty, mild indignation, and a grudging hint of thrill.

This close, he could see the miniscule dilation of your pupils, the flutter of your pulse hammering beneath the vulnerable hollow of your throat as you battled not to betray the effect his proximity elicited. The warm, intoxicating blend of your natural scent combined with the ephemeral tang of clean sweat and fabric softener made Tsukishima's head swim.

"You're awfully quiet all of a sudden," he practically purred once the loaded tableau stretched on a beat too long. "No comeback about inappropriate boundaries, or overcompensating for a newly realized size deficiency?"

That managed to shake you from your overwrought trance, hackles rising as a full-body flush crept over your features. "You're vile," you spat in a commendable approximation of disgust as you recoiled from the intimate encroachment on your space.

But Tsukishima had seen the fracture lines, caught the stuttered nervous exhale betraying that whisper of atavistic response you fought so hard to suppress. And in that tiny erosion of your defenses, he glimpsed the horizon of new possibilities - an expanding frontier of ways to needle past your limitations and composure until you lay utterly exposed before him.

The simmering undercurrents of tension amplified dramatically in the weeks after that initial thawing of your antagonistic rapport. Each ensuing encounter seemed primed to shatter past mere playful banter and provocative innuendo, splintering into something rawer and electrifyingly unsafe.

Tsukishima leaned harder into the invasive little touches and suggestive asides, each one calculated to unnerve you further and provoke increasingly flustered reactions. Under the guise of sardonic indifference, he would casually ghost his fingertips over the bare nape of your neck while sliding past you in narrow hallways. Or let his hooded gaze linger with maddening emphasis anytime the shifting of your clothing afforded teasing glimpses of skin on display.

You cycled through various strategies to regain equilibrium - deflecting with sarcastic quips, feigning obliviousness, even blunt confrontation. But nothing seemed to deter Tsukishima or raze those escalating shockwaves of tension crackling like atmospheric static in his wake.

He cornered you one evening after you'd spent a long, frustrating day dealing with unruly group project members for one of your seminars. Exhaustion was writ plainly across the tense lines of your shoulders, the slight downturn of your lips as you shrugged out of your jacket and leaned heavily against the wall.

"Long day playing shepherdess to the intellectually insolvent masses?" Tsukishima's voice rolled smooth as velvet from the nearby shadows. You jolted upright with a stifled gasp, clearly not having registered his presence lurking in the dimness of the hallway.

"Fuck, you scared me..." you huffed out a shaky breath, willing your heartrate to descend from its panicked spike as Tsukishima's silhouette peeled away from the shadows with predatory grace.

"My apologies." The words dripped with heavy insincere as he came to lean against the wall a scant few inches away. Even in the low lighting, you could make out the glinting suggestiveness in his heavy-lidded eyes. "I'll be sure to make more noise announcing my skulking presence next time."

You tried to snort out a derisive scoff, to wall up behind a facade of irritation at his insinuations and proximity. But your voice emerged with a telling breathlessness that its own betrayal. "Wouldn't want to mistake you for other, more threatening predators lurking around, I suppose..."

Tsukishima loomed subtly closer, the heated undertones of his natural musk and the clean, flinty notes of his body wash filling the scant space between you. "Careful now," he rumbled lowly in a cadence that ricocheted straight down your spine. "I've been told I can be quite...dangerous when riled."

You swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively as your fingers twisted in the fabric of your shirt. "Is that so? Dangerous how, exactly?"

Even in the dimness, you could trace the blatant path of Tsukishima's assessing gaze dropping to your restless fingers. To the subtle flex and release of your throat's musculature as you struggled not to betray the effect his voice and body heat radiating so brazenly had on you.

"Hmm, let's just call it 'volatile' to be on the safe side," he purred at last, drawing fractionally nearer until the proximity blurred the margins between your respective personal spheres. "Volatile enough that toying with it beyond certain limits has...consequences."

Your pulse thundered a rapid staccato against the vulnerable hollow of your throat as the implication settled over you like an intangibly oppressive weight. Edged into the narrow hallway, away from open sightlines, there existed only Tsukishima's radiant, inescapable presence and your rapidly shredding impulse control.

"Is that a threat?" You managed to rasp out at last in a poor mimicry of defiance. His aristocratic features pulled into a slow, dangerous smirk that had your pulse rabbiting anew.

"Just a friendly warning. I'd hate for either of us to get...burned."

The husky promise in his words hung spark-heavy in the charged space separating you. Your chests were nearly grazing with each feverish inhalation, close enough for Tsukishima to detect the staggered pitter-pat of your heartbeat under the sheen of exertion caused by the increasing heat and tension in the hallway.

His gaze locked unwaveringly with yours, relaying the same compulsive hunger searing away every rationalizing fortification in its path. That parallax between the forbidden whims rattling perilously in your respective minds shrinking to an infinitesimal membrane.

All it would take was the slightest breach - one sublimating burst of momentum to rupture that diaphanous film and send you both spinning, irrevocably, into that caustic event horizon of no return. Of surrendering to the inexorable gravities at long last and colliding with all the ruination and ferocious consumption that would entail.

You shifted slightly, the barest incremental adjustment of your balance that caused your thighs to brush ever-so-faintly against Tsukishima's. The contact was ephemeral as a soap bubble's caress...but enough to whiteout his vision with an incandescent flare of hungry provocation. Every nerve ending scoured raw by the suddenelectricity of that inconsequential stimulus.

Your exquisite inhalation shuddered through the infinitesimal margin between you like an orchestrated swell. Tsukishima's focus narrowed inexorably to the subtlest lexicon of reactions rippling across your features - the slight parting of your lips, the minuscule dilation of your pupils as twin mirrors brimming with the same shuddering mixture of curiosity and instinctual warning.

The dam was straining precipitously...here in this dark hallway, away from prying eyes or accountability, nothing remaining but to abandon the final, tattered constraints and give in fully to the smothering, annihilating compulsion singing with celestial rapture through his veins in that instant.

He could end this torturous hunger, slake the parched ache ravening through him for years with the final satiation of union, here and now. Strip away every barrier between you until the truth lay obscenely laid bare—

A door slammed in the distance, auditory shrapnel pulverizing the fragile tension condensed to ruinous density in the hallway. You jolted away from him like repelling magnets, the spell of whatever rapturous gravities had spooled you both towards that event horizon snapping with violent finality.

Tsukishima was left frozen in place, staring at the faint contrail of eddies still dissipating where you'd just occupied the same airspace as him. Molten displeasure curdled in his gut, simultaneously undercut by a parenthetical flicker of relief that neither of you had been the first to tip irrevocably over that precipice.

Not yet, at least. The restless drumbeat of his pulse still hammering with unspent keening to consummate those atavistic, compulsive urges was even clearer than before.

It was only a matter of time before even the most robust remaining safeguards were overcome in the face of such relentless gravities insisting on their conjoining. Tsukishima inhaled a steadying breath, brain already whirring with new strategies to engineer those subsequent pressures and fissures eroding your resistances.

No exit wound or discrete retreat remained to be found. Not when his existence had become this singularly obsessed vigil to bring yours under the sway of its eclipsing gravities once and for all.

The charged frisson of tension only grew more inescapable and stifling with each passing week. Every shared room, corridor, or overlapping routine now seemed to pulse with the same loaded potential - ripe for Tsukishima to manufacture new catalysts in eroding your restraint.

He mapped the contours of your routines and patterns with ritualistic focus, lying in wait like a singular predator isolating the most opportune moments to ambush and provoke reaction. Tsukishima took outrageous gambits to infringe upon your personal space, to lace every innocuous interaction with bristling undercurrents of something darker percolating beneath.

Like the night he prowled into the kitchen as you stood before the stove, idly stirring a simmering pot while swaying subtly to the distant thrum of music filtering in from the living room. You were absorbed in separate headspace, the slight crease between your brows suggesting deep rumination or merely zoning out after a long day.

Which made it all too tempting an opportunity for Tsukishima to disrupt.

He paused briefly just inside the kitchen entryway, drinking in the languid lines of your silhouette awash in the buttery warmth spilling from the oven's interior lights. The subtle but enticing curves of your body were accentuated by the casual lounge pants slung low on your hips and formfitting knit top that shifted hypnotically with each lazy twitch of the wooden spoon clutched in your hand.

Tsukishima's mouth went dry as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders accompanying each measured inhale and exhale. Every fiber of his being hummed in sympathetic frequency with the thrumming bassline pulsing through the floorboards under his bare feet. He advanced with predatory grace until looming just behind you, near enough to feel the heat radiating from your body in delicious contradiction to the sharp, cool tang of your soap and shampoo perfuming the space between you.

You startled faintly when he cleared his throat, the barest perceptible tightening of your shoulders before you slanted him a sidelong look of bemused inquiry. "I thought you were-"

"Out? Avoiding your incessant microwaved atrocities?" Tsukishima supplied archly, voice pitched low enough to thrum deliciously against the sensitive whorls of your inner ear. He took shameless satisfaction in the instinctive tick of tension feathering through your frame at his sudden proximity and realized just how exquisitely you'd underestimated the effect of him deliberately encroaching like this.

"That's not-" you shot back, aggrieved, before visibly swallowing back the retort and exhaling slowly in an attempt at regained composure. " ...I was just getting dinner ready, actually."

"And here I thought you were rehearsing for the 2024 Rhythmic Gymnastics Olympic trials," Tsukishima drawled in a voice gone syrupy with exaggerated innocence. His eyes followed the delectable sway of your hips as you turned back towards the stove, seemingly compelled into motion to diffuse the thick cloud of tension now billowing uncontained around you.

He took the opportunity to insert himself into your orbit, sidling smoothly past and forcing you to abruptly crane backwards to avoid his chest brushing against you. The tips of your wild hair tickled Tsukishima's jaw, sparked with residual static as he blatantly reached up and over your head to trail his splayed fingers along the underside of the upper cabinet.

Your breath went taut and shallow as he leaned in fractionally closer to feign examination of the cabinet's contents, and his heightened senses zeroed in on the way your pulse had begun to judder with uneven rapidity in the graceful column of your throat. So close now, the scintillating radiance of your warmth and presence blotted out all else in a gauzy, magnetizing vignette.

"What was it you were...looking for again?" You breathed out at last, a palpable tremor running through the question that hinted at the effort it took to maintain tenuous control over your composure.

Tsukishima hummed as if just remembering himself, gaze slipping down from the cabinet to burn a path over the delicious slopes and taut musculature of your backside mere inches from where he loomed. His fingertips slid across the underside of the cabinet towards you infinitesimally until he could feel the tingle of your body heat mingling with his own.

"Oh, nothing in particular," he finally purred, allowing the rasp of suggestion to bleed fully into every slurred syllable. "Just...enjoying the view."

You froze as if struck by lightning, every muscle gone taut and arrestingly still as the implication settled over you like an electrified miasma. For several protracted beats, the only movements between you came from your rapidly fluttering pulse hammering beneath the delicate sculpting of your jaw.

Tsukishima drank in the sight greedily, entranced by the way your pupils had blown wide, lips parting infinitesimally to pant out shallow, unsteady breaths. He could almost taste the roiling waves of confusion, arousal and consternation washing off you in acrid, mouthwatering bursts.

Just as he'd begun leaning in fractionally closer - operating on baser muscle intuition to revel in the effect of antagonizing those deepening fault lines in your restraint - the muffled whine of the apartment's front door opening startled you.

You wrenched away from his looming presence so violently that one of the cabinet doors caught your hip, drawing a pained hiss. And just like that, the rapturous bubble you'd both been so deliciously suspended in burst with harsh finality. Tsukishima was left trailing in your abrupt wake as you hurried from the kitchen without a backwards glance.

But he remained transfixed in place a few beats longer, rolling the echoes of adrenaline and electric tension through his consciousness like a saturated sponge. This was far from over - just another advance scout sent out to weaken your fortifications ahead of the next siege of his obsession.

The question was no longer if you would eventually capitulate to its gravitational insistence...but how utterly you'd crumble into decoherence once you at last surrendered control.

The encounters grew increasingly charged in the ensuing days, rippling with an undercurrent of unresolved provocation that threatened to crest at any moment. Tsukishima seemed to find new, increasingly brazen ways to insert himself into your personal space and routines.

Like the morning he ambled into the kitchen still disheveled from sleep - bare feet, rumpled sweatpants hanging precariously low on his lean hips, and a strategically unbuttoned shirt leaving little to the imagination. You were puttering around making coffee, back turned to him as he paused in the entryway to openly admire the view.

"Forgetting something?" His half-awake rasp still managed to drip with unmistakable suggestion. You jolted slightly before twisting to face him, brows raised in muted confusion until realization tinted your cheeks pink.

Tsukishima allowed his hooded gaze to drag pointedly over the thin cotton tank top you'd slept in - tight enough to leave little to the imagination this early before getting properly dressed. More specifically, the distinct absence of a bra's restrictive lines meant your nipples were on tantalizing display beneath the soft knit fabric.

"Didn't realize I needed a permit to be comfortable in my own home," you countered at last, proud of how little your voice wavered under Tsukishima's smoldering perusal.

One auburn brow inched higher in a deliciously provocative arch. "Who said anything about permits?" He let the words hang rife with insouciant curiosity before sauntering fully into the kitchen.

Tsukishima moved with exaggerated nonchalance, almost feline in his studied grace as he brushed past you to snag a mug from the overhead cabinet. You tensed imperceptibly as his arm extended over your shoulder, torso near enough that your bare upper arm grazed his chest through the vee of his unbuttoned shirt.

The friction of skin on skin was ephemeral, easily played off as incidental contact in such close quarters. But Tsukishima knew better - could sense the incongruous shiver feathering through you at his proximity, hear the uptick in your breathing's cadence.

He allowed one fingertip to skim up the curve of your bicep as he withdrew with his purloined mug, not even attempting to mask the smirk playing about his lips as you squirmed away bristling with delightfully ruffled indignation.

"Would you cut that out?" You shot across the kitchen, voice emerging several octaves too high to maintain an effective scolding timbre.

Tsukishima merely hummed a low, noncommittal response around the rim of his purloined mug, eyes already devouring the graceful arch of your back as you attempted to reassert some sense of normalcy by abandoning the coffee preparation.

Subtle as the provocation, he didn't miss the minor shudder transmitted through your frame at the simple rustling of fabric accompanying each minute shift of his stance. Tsukishima knew the effect he was having, could smell the coded pheromones of interest and uncertainty wafting from you in arousing summons.

All it would take was another indecorous push on the margins of propriety between you...

That opportunity arose mere hours later in another seeming happenstance encounter veiled beneath mundane routine. Tsukishima emerged fresh from showering, towel cinched low around his narrow hips while he used a second to scrub roughly at his damp hair. He detected your presence before even turning the corner into the hallway - heard the distinct cadence of your footfalls accompanied by equally familiar frustrated huffs.

By the time he rounded into view, you were distracted with wrestling your oversized laundry basket towards the utility closet at the far end of the hallway. Tsukishima didn't miss a beat, silently advancing to 'assist' without preamble.

You yelped at the sudden looming of his broad silhouette over your shoulder, hands gripping the handle of the basket until your knuckles shown pale. "Fuck, Kei - were you born without the ability to clear your throat or something?"

He allowed himself a low chuckle at your flustered gripe, the rumbling timbre rattling against the humid fog of air still clinging to his skin from the recent shower. "And have you go deaf from lack of usage? Where's the fun in that?"

You rolled your eyes at his flippant rejoinder, muscles visibly relaxing though your grip remained white-knuckled on the laundry basket's handle. Tsukishima took the opportunity to rake his molten stare overtly down the towel-shrouded length of his torso, gaze finally snagging on the juncture of terrycloth where it strained against his hips. When he lifted his focus back to you, you were frozen in unmistakable appreciation of the visual feast he'd offered.

"If you needed help wrestling that big load into the closet, you need only ask," Tsukishima purred, allowing a lascivious note to bleed into his tone conspicuously.

The effect was instantaneous - you flushed a vivid crimson, darting eyes quickly skating away from his as you scrambled for some sense of control over the encounter. "I've got it, thanks," you managed in a strangled tone pitched several decibels too high.

Rather than respecting your dismissal, Tsukishima took the opportunity to sidle in fractionally closer, near enough for his towel's hem to ghost a teasing caress over the distracted splay of your knuckles around the laundry basket. He watched with rapt fascination as a shudder rippled through your frame, gooseflesh erupting over the exposed canvas of your forearms until your every fine hair was on charged end.

"You seem awfully flustered this morning," he murmured against the vulnerable juncture of your jaw, near enough for you to feel the puff of his words' passage skating over your electrified skin. "Perhaps a cold shower would help...?"

Your breath hitched raggedly at the blatant suggestion, inadvertently allowing your shoulders to brush against the naked, fever-warm expanse of Tsukishima's torso as you attempted to put space between you. He seized the aborted movement as invitation to encroach further, hips canting minutely to press the lean V of his pelvis flush against the tantalizing flare of your backside.

The sudden, intimate contact obliterated whatever composure you'd been desperately clinging to like a scrap of cloth underfoot. In the same breath, you sucked in a harsh gasp, entire body going rigid as every synapse whited out into searing focus on that singular, scorching point of contact. Tsukishima took full advantage, bending fractionally to sluice the words directly against the heated hollow beneath your ear with hideous intimacy.

"I could give you some...private lessons on cooling down if you need them."

Your resultant groan punched from your diaphragm, strangled more from disbelief than outrage. He could sense the last tattered shreds of your propriety fraying by the second in the face of his unrelenting siege. But just as he prepared to deliver another barrage to fully breach your defenses, the muffled creak of the apartment's front door once again heralded an untimely interruption.

This time you reacted by shoving the unwieldy laundry basket away like a battering ram, toppling free without a second glance as you fled the explosive radius of Tsukishima's provocations. He watched you retreat with an impassive, heavy-lidded stare - utterly unbothered by the dispersion of clothing and sundry garments now littering the hallway and already plotting his next strategic offensive.

The antagonizing intimacy of each near-culmination left you shaken and destabilized. But far from dissuading Tsukishima's fixation, the withdrawal only whetted his compulsions to increasingly feverish heights with each cycle. He rode the high of those flirtations with ruinous gravities longer and longer, psyche buzzing like a live wire steadily burning away its protective shielding to expose the raw arcing filaments beneath.

That fissure between the polite fictions you clung to and the heaving, atavistic impulses rattling for release was widening. Every subsequent encounter fractured the remaining quarrystone just a bit more, slowly transforming your relationship into a gaping maw daring you both to pitch forward into its obscene, annihilating radiances.

So Tsukishima pressed on with increasing abandon, heedless of the devastation he courted. Every accidental-on-purpose brush of heated flesh on flesh, every suggestive murmur or remark purposefully engineered to send your thoughts into frenzied tailspins...he wielded them as agents of chaotic erosion. Turbulent eddies and searing plumes blasted relentlessly against the remaining integrity of your defenses until only sheared-away remnants remained.

All while Tsukishima waited, every particle accelerated to maximum catalyzing potential, for the inescapable moment of criticality where you could no longer withstand the forces arrayed against your restraint. Where you were reduced to ground zero, a supernova singularity from which there could be no outgassing or reconstitution - only absolute decoherence and surrender to the annihilating truth of what ravened between you.

A late spring storm rolled in unexpectedly that evening, thunder rumbling ominously as dark clouds opened up and unleashed torrential rain. The storm's fury showed no signs of abating as the hours ticked by. The dreary tattoo of rainfall eventually lulled into a static blanket of white noise surrounding the apartment.

You meandered into the kitchen at one point, abandoning all pretenses of productivity in favor of mindlessly rummaging through the cabinets. A handful of stray snacks and your favorite battered paperback provided a meager salve against the oppressive restlessness taking root.

By the time you settled back in the living room, periodically breaking from your reading to stare vacantly out the rain-lashed windows, cabin fever had well and truly set in. You barely registered the bathroom door opening and closing, or the faint pad of footfalls approaching until Tsukishima cleared his throat from the entryway.

You startled, nearly dislodging the nest of blankets cocooned around you as you twisted to face him. A lick of heat blossomed low in your belly at his utterly distracting state of dishabille - shirtless and tousled from the shower, worn sweatpants hanging perilously low on his lean hips.

"You just going to pretend to read all night, or...?" Tsukishima's words trailed off in that suggestive lilt he seemed to wield solely to unhinge you. You swallowed hard against the aridity prickling your throat.

"Well, this would be a lot more exciting if we could have anticipated being trapped inside together," You heard yourself replying in a tone bordering on breathless despite your best efforts at maintaining nonchalance.

One corner of Tsukishima's mouth curved in a devilish smirk. "Who says it has to be boring?"

You blinked rapidly, frozen in place as he prowled closer with that maddeningly unhurried, predatory gait of his. Your chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, unconsciously telegraphing the spike in your pulse when he sank onto the sofa next to you.

"Relax," he murmured, voice gone low and rumbly in a way that sparked exquisite little frissons all along your limbs. "If you get any more tightly wound, you're liable to spontaneously combust."

The blatant suggestion in his tone triggered a fresh blossoming heat across your collarbones. You licked your lips instinctively, hyper-aware of Tsukishima's bedroom-eyed stare tracking the movement with unmistakable interest.

"Maybe I could use a distraction, then," you managed in a tone aiming for arch nonchalance but emerging husky and tremulous instead.

Tsukishima hummed deep in his chest, leaning in infinitesimally closer until you could make out the feathery whorls of individual lashes framing those molten eyes, the dusting of faint freckles scattered across his sculpted cheekbones.

"I can think of a few options for that..."

The low, velvety rasp of his words catalyzed a cascading frisson reaction along your nerves. Your gasped inhale wavered precariously close to a whine of surrender as the heated miasma of Tsukishima's proximity shrouded you in intoxicating totality.

He dipped nearer still, one calloused fingertip trailing an incendiary path up the exposed slope of your shoulder until it curved tantalizingly around the base of your throat.

The molten gravity between you yawned and stretched taut as a singularity's event horizon as your gazes met and mingled - all the riotous impulses and shredded refrains of propriety temporarily abandoned to the upswell of that heated, eclipsing tension.

Tsukishima's lashes hooded heavily as his stare dropped to linger meaningfully on your parted lips. You felt your own eager inhale stutter in your lungs as he leaned the final incremental distance separating you and—

The abrupt squall of your phone's ringtone pierced the rapturous bubble of hushed tension with all the delicacy of a gunshot, sending you both flinching violently apart in a mutual full-bodied startle.

You scrambled to untangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets while Tsukishima surged to his feet, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring in mingled aggravation and unfulfilled yearning.

"You'd better get that," he bit out gruffly before stalking away in a tightly-leashed whirlwind, already shrugging into a discarded shirt as he retreated down the hallway.

You stared after his abrupt exit for several long, thunderstruck beats before fumbling for your phone to end the wretched interruption. Outside, the rain still pelted with unremitting force against the windows in a dreary percussive counterpoint to the furious pounding of adrenaline roaring between your temples.

Alone once more, you sank jelly-legged back onto the couch, thoughts whirring with chaotic possibilities and unvoiced recriminations. Relief at avoiding...what, precisely, you couldn't identify. Frustration, resentment that the moment between you had shattered so irrevocably. And underneath it all, a deeper, hungrier current that no amount of conscientious denial could quell entirely.

Try as you might to restrict its momentum, the inescapable gravities catalyzing between you had grown too immense and intrinsically locked to be denied indefinitely. It was only a matter of time now before they overwhelmed the final eroding vestiges of your restraint entirely.

The apartment felt thick with pent-up energy in the aftermath of that aborted, almost-intersection. An overcharged miasma clung to every room, every mundane occurrence between you now freighted with unvoiced implications.

Tsukishima grew increasingly emboldened in those ensuing days, needling you with suggestive remarks and invasions of personal space that bordered on the obscene. You responded with curt rejoinders or stony silence, but the effect was like dousing a raging wildfire with a garden hose's dribble.

He crowded you against the kitchen counter one evening as you washed dishes, chest brushing your back with each inhale until your hands stilled beneath the soapy deluge.

"Need some help?" The seductive rasp filtered across the sensitive whorls of your ear, making you shudder involuntarily. "These dishes are looking...utterly filthy."

Before you could formulate a retort or extricate yourself, Tsukishima's hands slid around your waist in a purposefully artless mimicry of an embrace. His palms skated over the taut planes of your abdomen, smearing trails of soapy water as he leaned in fractionally closer until his lips disturbed the diaphanous veil of your hair.

"I do so love getting my hands...dirty," he practically purred, the resonant undulations of his voice reverberating through you with exquisite intimacy.

You froze utterly, knuckles gone bloodless around the ceramic edges of the plate clutched between your fingers. Every measured inhalation you drew only stoked the bonfire of Tsukishima's proximity raging higher and hotter around you.

Each hitched breath fanned the flames of your indecision as warring instincts - to flee or surrender, remain locked in this smoldering stasis or detonate the fuse between you entirely - battled for dominance.

Tsukishima seemed to sense the infinitesimal tremors rattling through your frame in those charged moments, tactician that he was. His calloused hands spanned your midriff possessively, kneading at the tension barricading your abdomen in wordless invitation.

When you remained immobilized in his orbit, petrified equally by terror and temptation, he allowed the exhalation of a rapturous sigh to scorch every previously unexplored hollow and curve of your exposed skin.

"Look at me," he commanded at last in that same ruinous timbre that stripped you of rational capacity.

You complied sluggishly, as if wading through atmospheric densities double their usual weight, until your unfocused gaze locked with the blown-wide expanses of Tsukishima's irises.

His stare smoldered with undisguised hunger, burning paths over your parted lips and the rapid fluttering of your pulse point before searing back to meet your own glazed regard. You felt utterly hypnotized in that annealing instant, magnetized towards this singularity of eclipsing provocation.

Tsukishima didn't so much lean in as allow the event horizon to gradually envelop you both, each synapse and loaded inhale telescoping further into the same devouring radiance. He cradled your nape in one broad palm, anchoring you inescapably as his mouth angled to collision upon yours with finality of celestial bodies yielding to intractable gravities.

Victory and resignation burned in equal measure in his stare, as if daring you to be the one to extinguish this final infinite breath separating you from sating the compulsions simmering for far too excruciatingly—

A thunderous barrage of knuckles at the front door splintered the raptured silence into shards. You gasped against the searing proximity of Tsukishima's lips, every nerve ending jolted back to momentary lucidity. He uttered a guttural rasp of pure frustration, eyes squeezing shut as if willing away this latest violation.

But the hammering at the entryway persisted with escalating force and urgency, finally severing the spell suspending you both in that singular, transcendent stasis. Tsukishima wrenched himself away with visible effort, backpedaling several paces as you remained rooted in place and trembling.

The turbulence from his abrupt withdrawal left a roiling wake of eddies disturbing the humid atmosphere around you. You struggled to recapture your equilibrium, senses still hazy with unsated yearning and the acrid tang of almost-completion.

Tsukishima stalked towards the front entrance in a tightly-leashed whirlwind, movements telegraphing his agitation through every taut line of musculature. Just before wrenching the door open, he slanted you one final inscrutable look from beneath hooded lashes - one final lancing intimation that this wasn't over by any means.

Not until all veils were sundered and both of you yielded to the compulsions wheeling you ever closer to that searing event horizon of no return.

Tsukishima returned to the apartment that evening utterly drained from a marathon study session at the library. The weight of fatigue clung to his bones like full-body restraints as he fumbled with his keys, thoughts fuzzy and focused solely on collapsing into bed for a few hours' reprieve.

So when the sounds of muted conversation and low laughter filtered through from inside, he felt the first faint prickle of alertness pierce his exhaustion-fogged senses. You hardly ever had visitors over besides Akiteru, which meant—

A fresh wave of wakefulness doused Tsukishima as he quietly pushed through the door to find you nestled on the couch...accompanied by another man he didn't immediately recognize. You were angled towards this stranger with your full attention, body cant subtly inward as you spoke in hushed, impassioned tones, the two of you leaning unconsciously ever-closer with each conspiratorial murmur.

A muscle went taut along Tsukishima's jaw as he registered the intimate tableau before him - the way the man's broad shoulders hunched eagerly towards you, that undisguised spark of naked interest glinting in his heavy-lidded assessment of your features. Setting the scene like another planet abruptly shifting into Tsukishima's established orbit without permission.

He cleared his throat once, a percussive bark that shattered the hushed ambiance and had you both jolting upright like repelled magnets across a forcefield. The man whipped around with a look of surprise rapidly melting into sheepish discomfiture as you straightened, kneading the knotted throw pillow in your grasp like a lifeline.

"Kei! You're, uh—you're back sooner than I expected," you stammered after a loaded pause. The tips of your ears flushed slightly under Tsukishima's bland, assessing stare. "I was just...catching up with an old friend from undergrad. We haven't seen each other in ages."

Your eyes pleaded guilelessly for some sense of normalcy, but Tsukishima felt the riptide undertow of something distinctly possessive and unslakeable roaring to the surface within him. His gaze sliced incisively to the stranger sitting just a hair too intimately close to you.

"I see. Well, I didn't mean to interrupt your...catching up," he intoned at length, each precisely shaped syllable dripping with the confrontational lilt of challenge. The look he slanted at the other man may as well have been semaphored in neon: This ends now.

To the guy's credit, he seemed to grasp the perilous undercurrents tensing the atmosphere with a clarity that escaped your well-meaning obliviousness. After throwing an inscrutable, questioning look your way that garnered no reassurance, he stood abruptly and made a show of straightening his clothes.

"You know what, you're absolutely right. I've probably overstayed my welcome tonight," he addressed both of you in a tone striving for diplomacy, even as his eyes danced between Tsukishima's smoldering countenance and your deepening frown of consternation. "Rain check on the rest of the reminiscing? It was...great catching up."

You opened your mouth, undoubtedly to protest his abrupt exit, but Tsukishima seized control of the situation before it could spiral chaotically out of control.

"Of course," he interjected smoothly, stepping aside just enough to allow the man to skirt a wide berth past his obstinately planted form. A significant look passed between them - bristling with unspoken reproach and sizing up - before your friend finally made his exit.

The door had barely clicked shut before Tsukishima turned his gimlet focus towards you fully, already advancing into your space like an unstoppable force guided by irrefutable trajectories.

"Making new friends in my absence?" The question emerged in a low rasp, knife-edged with barely restrained umbrage that lent it a vaguely mocking quality. "That's either impressively brazen...or cruelly negligent of you."

You blinked up at him owlishly from your seat on the couch, hands still worrying that hapless throw pillow like a discarded stress ball as Tsukishima's scorching presence buffeted you from all sides.

"Kei, what is your problem?" You fired back at last, sounding more petulant than convincingly indignant as he loomed over you in mounting displeasure. "He really was just an old friend. We didn't—"

"Didn't what?" Tsukishima cut you off with biting false-geniality. "Put on a salacious little show of false intimacy where I could clearly see how eager he was to rekindle old flames? Force me to witness how withdrawn and rapturous your attention was while tucked so close together?"

"That's not fair," you protested, beginning to push upright from the couch cushions only to have Tsukishima's broad palms bracket the rumpled fabric on either side of your head – effectively caging you in place as he prowled even nearer.

You swallowed hard, suddenly dizzy from the electrifying proximity of his presence and the scorching recrimination skating through his gimlet stare. Tsukishima cocked his head fractionally to one side, assessing you with such intensity it was like being systematically disrobed layer by layer.

"Do you even realize what it does to me?" He breathed at last, the hushed rasp of his words rippling intimately against the sensitive whorls of your inner ear. "Seeing you so openly beguiled by another, being dismissed from your undivided attention?"

He shifted infinitesimally closer, near enough for you to feel the searing thermals of his body heat and track the tangled riot of individual lashes framing each heavy-lidded stare. Tsukishima's voice had taken on a smoky, nectar-thick resonance that seemed to burrow straight down into your innermost nexuses of instinct and longing.

"Kei, I..." Whatever feeble protestation you attempted to summon fractured on your tongue as he dipped even nearer still. Tsukishima's nose skated a scorching, featherlight path along the line of your jaw until his mouth hovered a scant hairsbreadth from yours - so perilously close that you could taste the arid exhalations gusting from between his parted lips.

"Every fiber of my being rails against the mere notion of being an afterthought in your attentions," he confessed in a spine-tingling purr. "Of having to tolerate another encroaching on...what's mine."

The naked possessiveness saturating that final rasp stripped you of any remaining pretenses of composure. You could only manage a muted whimper from somewhere in the back of your throat as the full weight of Tsukishima's compulsions - his long-smoldering fixation you'd denied for far too long now - reverberated through you in rapturous detonations.

You sensed his gravitic tides enveloping you, every forbidden longing suddenly compressed into hyper-focused singularity between the searing, infinitesimal proximity of your bodies. Tsukishima searched your wide, unfocused stare for any hint of rejection or objection and found only stunned, reciprocal rapture gazing back.

"Tell me you don't want this as badly," he growled with low, dangerous timbre. "Look me in the eyes and convince me you haven't imagined surrendering to inevitability as completely as I have every torturous second of denying it..."

He sealed the minuscule gap separating you in one blistering rush. Tsukishima's mouth slanted hotly over yours with all the ruthless, unyielding insistence you'd come to expect but could never have braced for. The first shocking contact detonated like a lightning strike, shorting out any lingering mental processes apart from sheer visceral conflagration.

You shuddered full-bodily into the onslaught, hands convulsing in the cushions as his palms cradled your jaw to hold you immobile. Tsukishima surged even more impossibly nearer, his calloused palm rasping up the sensitive juncture of your throat until his fingertips found purchase in the dense silk of your hair.

Within seconds you were pliant and keening against him, lips parting wantonly on a gasping whine as he slanted his mouth across yours with relentless, devouring precision. The first exploratory swipe of his velvet tongue left you utterly unraveled, quaking with full-bodied devastation as Tsukishima mapped every searing nuance of your intimate geometries.

He allowed no quarter or reservations to persist - only the full, immolating truth of his compulsions made exquisitely and irrefutably manifest against the plush glide of your lips, the wet velvet of your mouth yielding beneath the onslaught of his attentions.

Every tremor that ripped through you seemed to lance Tsukishima with renewed fervency. He groaned, low and harrowing, as your eager fingers fisted spasmodically in the fabric of his shirt, seeking any sort of anchoring purchase amidst the bewildering, rapturous upheaval.

You'd never experienced anything like this - this level of sheer totality and berserker focus distilled into physical expression. It was as if Tsukishima were searing the incontrovertible truth of his fixation into your very bones using only his lips and tongue and ceaseless, gnawing hunger.

Years of repression and denial and circuitous gravities slowly compounding into critical mass between you abruptly detonated into coalescent bliss. This ravenous claiming was equal parts absolution and desperate, lurid gratification of compulsions far too immense to subdue any longer.

You felt the dense warmth of his palm skating searingly down your torso, bunching and rucking your clothing with each searing glide. The plaintive, wrecked sound you managed to produce at the sudden intimate contact only seemed to further unleash the rampant undertow of Tsukishima's ardor.

His answering growl rumbled straight through your hazes and nexi, reverberating across every shockwave of awakened nerves and nerve endings. Some distant part of you felt subsumed entirely under the rising tide of that overwhelming onslaught, relinquishing the last shards of agency and coherence to simply experience rapture in its most ruinous, annihilating distillation.

You surrendered utterly in that moment - mind, body, and soul catalyzed to a singular axis point devouring every permutation of reality save for the obscene, unholy revelations of Tsukishima's mouth and hands searing reality anew into your senses.

This was what you had both been hurtling towards for far too long, stubbornly resisting the cosmic insistence of fate and willful denial despite inevitability's inescapable gravities. With an inarticulate keen of abject surrender, you canted your jaw and yielding to the delirium of that blissful, eternal singularity at last.

Tsukishima, his obsession reified into living religion, was more than willing to meet you on that ecstatic boundary and usher you both fully across the divide.

The moment your lips parted in surrender, Tsukishima surged forward with the ferocious insistence of a man finally allowing years of repressed starvation to run rampant. His mouth slanted hotly over yours with lurid, open-mouthed fervor, tongue spearing past seam of your lips to map every searing plane of velvet within.

You keen softly at the blinding intensity, fingers convulsing in the rumpled fabric of his shirt as you pulled him bodily closer - suddenly desperate to extinguish any last vestige of space between your frames. Tsukishima growled his approval against your lips, hands spanning your jaw to tilt your head into the perfect devouring angle as his hips canted forward purposefully.

The blatant press and grind of his cock against your lower abdomen catalyzed a full-body shudder. You arched instinctively against the maddening friction, soft whimpers punching from your throat with each subsequent roll of Tsukishima's hips against your own. He swallowed those needy keens hungrily, tongue plunging with filthy precision to entwine and taste every nuance of reciprocation from you.

Your skin felt electrified, every fine hair prickling with rapturous sensitivity in Tsukishima's overwhelming radiance. You clutched at the cut slopes of his shoulders like a lifeline, mind hazing out into dissociative planes of ecstasy with each languid swirl and thrust of his tongue against yours. The dizzying intimacy of his ravenous mouth and roving hands mapping possessive paths across your shuddering curves was utterly obliterating.

Just when you felt the last tattered remnants of oxygen deprivation graying the corners of your consciousness, Tsukishima relented fractionally - dragging his lips in a scorching, openmouthed trail along the rigid tendons of your neck. You gulped in precious gulps of air, everything zoning into hyper-focused clarity on the heavenly ministrations of his mouth mapping your thundering pulse point before continuing up to lave the sensitive basin beneath your ear.

"Been dreaming of this..." he confessed in a voice guttered to smoke and honey. "Of finally having you splayed and breathless beneath me."

The barefaced carnal imagery and undisguised compulsion in his tone punched a whine from deep in your chest. Somewhere through the synaptic whiteouts of pleasure, you managed a tremulous plea for more of that undiluted truth to be scorched into your awareness.

Tsukishima growled in savage gratification, hips snapping forward again to grind deliciously against you as his mouth trailed liquid infernos across your cheekbone back towards your lips. "Had to watch you for years unconscious of how badly I wanted this...needed you laid out and whimpering for me."

Your resultant moan obliterated any lingering attempt at composure. He took ruthless advantage once more, tongue spearing past your parted lips to taste the uninhibited rapture. You surged against him mindlessly, fingers spasming into the tense cording of muscle spanning his back as your senses grew whited out in ecstasy.

Tsukishima shifted his weight to fully bracket you into the couch, the blissful cradle of his hips slotting obscenely against your own as his calloused fingers traced paths of ruination everywhere they roamed. You were malleable putty in his hands - liquefied by desperation and the annihilating surrender to compulsions held at bay for far too excruciatingly long.

Your clothes were rapidly becoming an obstacle, the fabric rucked and constricting until you felt the full force of Tsukishima's blazing touch against the delicate planes and curves of your bare skin. You writhed instinctively beneath him, desperate to be freed of the confines and fully submerged in the molten radiance of his body.

Tsukishima seemed to intuit your desire with the preternatural synchronicity he exhibited on the court. In seconds, his calloused palms had skimmed beneath your shirt and peeled it deftly overhead, tossing it carelessly aside as he drank in the sight of you half-clothed and quivering.

"Perfect..." He rasped, eyes darkening in appreciation as they raked over your bare chest and stomach, the peaks of your nipples stiffening beneath his ravenous gaze. Tsukishima's tongue darted across his lower lip, and the gesture was so sinfully enticing that you couldn't help but whine low in the back of your throat.

That seemed to spur him into action, and his hands were suddenly everywhere. Your pants and underwear disappeared in a whirlwind of movement, and then you were spread bare beneath him. The way he looked at you - the unmitigated heat and desire and raw possession gleaming in his stare - made you flush with arousal all over.

Tsukishima's hands were everywhere, mapping every exposed plane and curve with an intensity that left you gasping. His touch was searing, callouses rasping deliciously over the sensitive peaks of your breasts and nipples, making you arch into him.

"Please..." you gasped, already beyond words, beyond anything but the need to feel him against you, inside you. "Please, Kei..."

That seemed to be all the permission he needed. His eyes flashed with dark hunger, and his hands were moving to push his own pants and underwear off. You couldn't help the soft cry that escaped you as his cock sprang free, thick and heavy and leaking precum.

Tsukishima wasted no time, his fingers slipping between your thighs to find you dripping for him. You whined, bucking against him, desperate for more friction. His fingers slid inside you, fucking into you with a steady rhythm that had you writhing against him.

You could feel the molten, inescapable radiance of Tsukishima's stare tracking every twitch and flutter of expression, every involuntary jerk and shiver of response in your frame. He seemed intent on memorizing each subtle shift and hitch of rapturous torment rippling across your features, mapping the exact points that reduced you to keening, incoherent pleas.

His fingertips curled inside you with expert precision, stroking and teasing and stretching you open until you were a shuddering, moaning mess. You couldn't even think, could only feel, as the searing compulsion to be fully, utterly ravaged by Tsukishima's ravenous attentions obliterated all other concerns.

Tsukishima watched you come undone with a hunger that made your head spin. His eyes were dark and intense, drinking in every inch of you, every shudder and gasp. His gaze was nearly as palpable as his touch, setting your nerves alight.

"You're so beautiful like this..." he murmured, his voice ragged with lust. "All laid out and trembling for me, begging for my cock."

His words sent another wave of arousal through you, and you could feel yourself clench around his fingers. Tsukishima groaned, and his cock twitched, precum beading at the tip. You ached to taste him, to feel him inside you, filling you.

"Kei, please," you gasped, reaching for him, needing him. "Please, I need you, I need you inside me."

That seemed to be all the convincing he needed. Tsukishima withdrew his fingers, leaving you aching and empty for just a moment before his cock was pressing against your entrance. You moaned, arching into him, and he pushed inside with a groan.

The feeling of him inside you was almost too much. You were already so close, and the sensation of him filling you was enough to send you over the edge. But you wanted more, wanted to feel him move, to see him fall apart.

"Please," you managed, voice little more than a breathless whine. "Move, Kei, please, I need you..."

With a low growl, he began to move, thrusting into you with deep, powerful strokes that had you crying out with each one. His cock filled you perfectly, hitting every spot that made you see stars. You clung to him, desperate for more, needing more.

The sounds of pleasure falling from Tsukishima's lips were absolutely sinful. You could feel his gaze raking over you, watching you fall apart beneath him. His pace increased, driving into you harder and faster. You could feel your climax building, each stroke sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Tsukishima's fingers tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the delicate line of your throat. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and you moaned, arching into him. His hips snapped forward, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice raw with lust. "I want to feel you come, to feel you fall apart for me."

That was all it took to send you careening over the edge. You came hard, crying out his name as your orgasm crashed over you in wave after wave. He fucked you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you were a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

As your climax subsided, Tsukishima's movements became more erratic. He was close, you could tell, his breathing ragged and his thrusts losing their rhythm. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, urging him on.

"Come for me, Kei," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Come inside me, I need to feel you, please..."

Those words seemed to push him over the edge. With a groan, he thrust into you one last time, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you. You clung to him, riding out his orgasm with him.

As the aftershocks faded, he collapsed against you, his body heavy and warm. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. You could feel his heart hammering against your chest, and his breath was hot against your neck.

You could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in each other, but Tsukishima's weight was becoming uncomfortable. After a moment, he shifted, pulling out and rolling onto his side. His eyes were still dark, but now they were also soft, and his expression was unreadable.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low and gentle, and the tenderness in it made your heart ache.

You nodded, reaching up to cup his face in your hand. He leaned into the touch, and you could feel the tension in his body melting away.

"I'm perfect," you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, slow and sweet. "Absolutely perfect."

Tsukishima's answering smirk was infuriating and triumphant and insufferably smug, but he gathered you up in his arms and pressed a searing kiss to your temple nonetheless. The weight of him surrounding you, anchoring you to the here and now, felt like absolution and promise and utter perfection all rolled into one.

In the afterglow, there was no need to dissemble or deny the seismic magnitude of what had just transpired between the two of you. Tsukishima's arm draped possessively across your waist, his fingertips tracing idle, sensuous patterns across the smooth expanse of your abdomen as he pressed a drugging kiss to the nape of your neck.

"Do you regret it yet?" His murmured inquiry was a smoky rumble, laced with equal parts wry humor and uncharacteristic uncertainty.

"Never," you responded immediately, no hesitation or equivocation clouding your response. You craned your head back to lock gazes with him, allowing the full force of your conviction to bleed through in your stare.

A smile curled at the corners of Tsukishima's lips - the rare, genuine kind that made your heart skip a beat. He pressed another kiss to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the tender skin just enough to make you gasp.

"Good," he purred, sounding distinctly self-satisfied as he curled his body possessively around yours. "Because I've been waiting years to do that...and I'm nowhere near done."

You laughed, lightheaded and giddy and utterly smitten. This had certainly escalated far beyond any realm of your comprehension, but Tsukishima's ardent compulsions had been so thoroughly fulfilled that he seemed willing to let the past - and whatever might have transpired between you and him tonight - fade into the ether of the future.

And when Tsukishima's mouth slanted across your lips in another searing, devouring kiss, you found that you really, truly couldn't bring yourself to care about anything beyond this blissful, annihilating singularity of reality.

You awoke the next morning, deliciously sore and tangled in Tsukishima's embrace. A lazy smile tugged at your lips as you basked in the warmth of his sleeping form. Memories of the previous night's passion made a pleasant shiver run down your spine.

A sharp rap at the door made you both jolt awake. Tsukishima frowned as the insistent knocking continued. You quickly gathered the blanket around your bare form as he tugged on a discarded pair of shorts and stalked over to answer it.

The door swung open to reveal Akiteru, a cheerful grin spreading across his face. "Hey, little bro! I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd—" His eyes went comically wide as they landed on you clutching the blanket to your chest. "Oh... Oh!"

Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, cheeks flushing scarlet. "Aki..."

"You... and her?" Akiteru sputtered, smile dropping as the realization sank in. He swiveled his gaze between the two of you, brows climbing higher with each passing second.

An awkward silence stretched as you shrank further into the couch cushions. Akiteru's expression morphed from shock into a teasing smirk.

"Well, well, well. I can't say I didn’t see this coming!" He let out a low whistle. "Though I can't blame you for your excellent taste, Kei."

"Don't start," Tsukishima warned, ears burning. He snatched the pastry box from Akiteru's hands and shoved it against his chest. "Now get out before I slam the door in your face."

Akiteru chuckled, holding up his free hand in surrender. "All right, all right! I'm going!" He leveled a wink your direction. "We'll have to grab drinks sometime and you can give me all the details."

"Out!"

The door slammed on Akiteru's retreating laughter. Tsukishima's shoulders slumped as he turned back to you, expression tinged with mortification.

You bit your lip to stifle a grin. "Well... that was suitably awkward."

He groaned, falling onto the couch and burying his face in your neck. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

Chuckling softly, you carded your fingers through his sleep-mussed curls. "Look on the bright side—at least he took it better than expected?"

Tsukishima huffed but made no move to pull away from your comforting embrace. After a long moment, he tilted his head back to meet your gaze, eyes softening.

"I guess that's one way to break the news," he murmured wryly.

You laughed, leaning down to brush a soft kiss to his furrowed brow. "Don't worry, we've got all the time in the world to figure the rest out together."

A faint smile finally curved his lips as he reached up to cup your cheek, expression filled with unguarded affection. "Yeah... together sounds perfect."

[polyo-nym-y]

Bon Appétit~

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Alastor x Female!Reader

| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |

[Part 2 <3]

Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!

This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).

Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3

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Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.

Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.

The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.

“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”

You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”

“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”

A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.

He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.

You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.

He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”

The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.

A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.

He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.

Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.

“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.

“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“

His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.

A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“

Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.

“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.

“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.

“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”

You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.

“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.

With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.

“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”

You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.

A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”

Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”

He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”

A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”

With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”

A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”

He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.

Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”

Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.

His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.

One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.

He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.

“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”

“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.

Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.

You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.

Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“

He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.

“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”

Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.

He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”

Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“

“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”

“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”

“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.

You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.

The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”

“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.

“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.

It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”

“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.

The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.

The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.

His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.

His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.

Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.

Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“

“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”

“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.

His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”

And you then knew that your night was far from over…

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*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.