#and he's been watching you for a while and is in love with you uwu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sutorus · 1 year

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THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach.

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility.

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do.

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man.

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you.

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—).

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like.

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year.

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it.

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives.

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him.

but you damn well managed to.

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair.

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit.

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately.

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class.

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there.

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours.

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed.

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are.

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know.

but you knew for a fact that it was personal.

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance.

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively.

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow.

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply.

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class.

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious.

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test.

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you.

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well.

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak.

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class.

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild.

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another.

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages.

you smile, waving at the screen.

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.”

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying.

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had.

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip.

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help.

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.”

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you.

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong.

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself.

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again.

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that.

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this.

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest.

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know.

damn right it’s personal.

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation.

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off.

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over.

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger.

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on.

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair.

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet.

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you.

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums.

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.”

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from.

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo.

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction.

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently.

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you.

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest.

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom.

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue.

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly.

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now…

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun.

you could so easily forget what you came here for.

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn.

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest.

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together.

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two.

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh.

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief.

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips.

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan.

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core.

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin.

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside.

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips.

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you.

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again.

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat.

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue.

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive.

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock.

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds.

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly.

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.”

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of.

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees.

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper.

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face.

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants.

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved.

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside.

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth.

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would.

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones.

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man.

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo.

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks.

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time.

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over.

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt.

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core.

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you.

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs.

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else.

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear.

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt.

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn.

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him.

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you.

he notices you looking.

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk.

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip.

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him.

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head.

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better.

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair.

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized.

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers.

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this.

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth.

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle.

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back.

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening.

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts.

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out.

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in.

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you.

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade.

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go.

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin.

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt.

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips.

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you.

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom.

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.”

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you.

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts.

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you.

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you.

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer.

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release.

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got.

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you.

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure.

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you.

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of.

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy.

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows.

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips.

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?”

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession.

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles.

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

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angelbarelywrites · 6 months

Text

♡ slashers scenarios | your first time together is…your first time

♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2006), slashers (general)

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral - i tried to be ambiguous but where i couldn’t be, i gave an option for both sets of parts uwu

♡ cw; sex (this is smut my friend), a little bit of implied breeding kink, possessiveness

♡ notes; what it says on the tin; you lose your virginity the first time you have sex with your stabby bf. i can only dream 😔

also, probably the last fic with a random selection of characters , i have the poll results n everything. vincent was the winner and brahms three percent behind him, so they’re being added to a-team permanently

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire

> he’s relieved when you tell him you haven’t gone that far before

> because he’s a virgin too, and probably more nervous than you are

> he’s eager though- he’s always eager when it comes to you

> he pulls you on top, grabbing your hips and grinding up on you as you kiss

> and then he urges you to use his face- fuck it or sit on it, depending on what you’re working with

> and while your hesitant, not wanting to overwhelm him for his first time

> but god, he’s a good little sub, and he loves every second of it

> after he’s made you cum, he pulls away- practically still drooling, and begs for you to touch him

> he bucks up into your hand immediately, already so hard he’s twitching

> if he lasts more than a few pumps, he flips you, seeming shy to pin you, but trying his best

> and he has to take a breather to make sure he doesn’t immediately cum inside you

> he’s slow at first, literally shaking

> and for your first time, it’s all missionary- he needs to watch your face, making sure he’s doing a good job

> and making sure he tells you how pretty you are

> he cums first, he just can’t help it- but he’s not at all hesitant to replace his cock with his fingers

> and he makes sure you cum at least twice more, using his mouth again if he needs to

> by the time you finally catch your breath, he’s already more than ready for round 2

Micheal Myers

> he’s already pushing you to your knees in front of him when you manage to tell him

> he pauses- he’s not sure what to do

> he’s always rough.

> and he’d been rough with you thus far

> he rubs your cheek softly and huffs- and at first you think he’s going to put a stop to things for the day

> until he throws you over his shoulder, giving your ass a playful squeeze in the process

> of course he’s not going to fuck you on the porch like an animal

> not for your very first time at least

> he drops you on the bed and takes his mask off

> it’s not the first time you’ve seen him without it, but it’s still special

> he teases you, hands all over your body as he carefully watches your reactions

> he has you in your undies when he finally gets impatient and goes back to his usual selfishness

> he had you get on your knees again- this time more gently coaxing, and guides you through taking him

> and for the record, there’s a lot to take

> before you have him too needy he lays you down

> you can tell this is going to be a once in a while thing, so you savor the sight of him between your thighs

> he eats you out/rims you like it’s his goddamn job, staring up at you all the while

> it’d be creepy if he wasn’t so good at what he was doing

> if you insist on missionary, he’ll let you this time

> but he wants you doggy so he can watch you take him inch by inch

> this boy has so much stamina

> you cum three times before he finally pulls out, painting your back

> you try to sit up but he doesn’t let you- he’s not done with you

> not even close

Thomas Hewitt

> something about his eyes darken when you tell him you’re a virgin

> he’d never be the one to initiate something first - he’s far too scared of crossing your boundaries to lead like that

> so if you’re telling him, it’s probably because you’re telling him you want him to take your virginity

> and even though he never believed in the Bible, or the sexist shit Hoyt always spouted

> he’s possessive, and if something about being your first is exciting. it was another part of you that’d be all his

> before you know it the man is ripping your clothes off. like literally ripping.

> he manhandles you- unintentionally, but it’s hard for him not to with your size difference

>he spreads your thighs wide apart and goes to town

> he goes down on you again, and again, and again and—

> by the time he sits up you’re already overstimulated

> but it’s his turn, and he’s eager to take it

> you can feel how huge he is through his pants, and your jaw drops when you see him

> “Tommy, that won’t fit”

> he huffs, amused through his mask and nuzzles you reassuringly

> he starts in missionary, but then he pushes your legs up into a full mating press

> he fucks into you deep and hard, going faster until you’re babbling nonsense

> he pulls your hair and makes you look him in the eye as he cums inside

> and when he does pull out, you can feel it dripping from you

> he looks at it and then up at you excitedly, and you know what he wants

> again

#slashers #micheal myers #thomas hewitt #micheal myers x reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #slashers x you #tcm #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #texas chainsaw the beginning #halloween #cw: smut #cw suggestive

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hauntingofhouses · 9 months

Text

uhhh thinkin about how mizu and taigen's relationship was described as "this meeting of the minds, this meeting of the swords, that they could not share with anybody else" in one of the netflix articles about the show

and i'm going crazy because YEAH they're both equally invested about swords and fighting in a way that nobody else in their lives are. and that's just. so important considering we're talking about mizu, who sees her sword as her own soul.

and it's not JUST mizu who's obsessed with fighting. taigen is too. cuz like after their duel at the shindo dojo, as taigen is examining his bald spot in the mirror where mizu cut off his hair, he literally interrupts his own turmoil over losing his honour, just to express his awe, openly admiring mizu's skill DESPITE the fact that mizu just beat his ass and stripped his honour and status from him

then in the next episode, mizu says a very similar line when she examines the cut flower that fowler had pinned to heiji shindo's robe.

this was also such a sudden thing to notice in the middle of their conversation (my interpretation of this is that it hints to fowler's own skills with a blade, and gives mizu information about her enemy being a formidable opponent), but the fact that mizu had such a keen eye and managed to hone in on such a tiny detail from like a foot or two away is interesting because it shows us just how attentive mizu is, especially when it comes to blades and anything to do with them

to mizu (when she's not spiralling and agonising over her own self-hatred and the way the world treats her), swords are not a mere tool for revenge, but an art form which she is fascinated by and loves and admires. we see this from time to time, during rare moments of respite, like when she admires the duel in the beginning of ep4

mizu also takes to heart all the teachings from her years training, while taigen is interestingly less strict about them, basically disregarding some of those teachings as mere pedantry, or even if he doesn't actually really think so, he at least tells mizu as much in his attempt to comfort her after her sword breaks

but that doesn't mean he doesn't care for the more formal aspects of his training at all. because in ep3 when he says this

this line about mount sumeru is not talking about the literal mountain in front of them, but is a recitation of a line from the lotus sutra, which is among the mahayana sutras that they learned as part of their spiritual training, as zen buddhism forms a lot of the basis for samurai doctrines and philosophy. the sutra given more emphasis in the show is the heart sutra that mizu writes on her body in ep7 during her rite of rebirth

so taigen saying this line, as i see it, is a way to bond with mizu, or at least make conversation over their shared knowledge, as we see him await a reaction as soon as he says this. but mizu gives him none, and he looks disappointed/annoyed/frustrated or what have you as he watches her walk off without a word

also we see a little more of their shared knowledge of swordsmanship in the last episode when it's clear that mizu has been training ringo in sword fighting techniques

and later taigen recognises it instantly

they're both nerds about swords and fighting!!! they both respect each other's skills!!!

GOD i really hope in future episodes they get to bond some more over their shared passion and common training and just samurai camaraderie in general!!! mizu clearly loves the artistry of sword fighting so much, she deserves to have a confidant who shares that with her, someone she can talk openly about these things to!!!

because like remember when mikio was telling her about the naginata, she looked soooo uwu in love!!! admiring her husband as he showed off the weapon and told her the benefits of using it!!! believing at the time that she'd found a match who she could openly share her love of martial arts with!! she was having so much fun sparring him too. everyone says fighting is part of her love language and YES it IS!!!

except the difference is that mikio—due to, among other things, their large age difference and subsequent gap in life experience—believes he is mizu's teacher, rather than her equal. this is the role he's readily taken throughout their marriage, from teaching her how to throw a knife to cut down fruit (not like she needed that particular lesson), to teaching her equestrian skills.

meanwhile taigen and mizu were both kids growing up poor in the same backwater fishing village, which means that they are and always have been PEERS. and this becomes even more pronounced once taigen is stripped of his giant ego and unlearns his prejudice, allowing them both to fully respect each other and view each other as equals

which is again why it frustrates taigen when mizu admits later in this scene that she basically doesn't care about saving the shogun. like he gets mad because it upends his initial belief in their shared goals and aligned values, believing them both to be samurai of equal standing and honour.

ALSO i'd like to add, that though mizu is the better swordsman as we see her win all their brawls and matches, she doesn't surpass him by that much, and mizu knows this.

these words coming from mizu is such a huge compliment all things considered, acknowledging that he was strong enough to deserve fighting her, because shortly before this mizu was just about to say "no one has given me much of a challenge" only for taigen to enter the scene and, well, challenge her.

now combine this with her saying that chiaki's broken blade suits him well, giving to him HER sword which SHE made AND won, as a surety, promising him a duel that he "deserves". it's proof that even though she finds taigen an annoying brat and oftentimes an obstacle to her mission for revenge, she DOES respect him and does value his skills.

IN CONCLUSION nobody else is on their level, nobody else shares their love of swordsmanship and that is such an important factor to their bond and the way they relate to each other. i rest my case your honour

#mizu x taigen #taigen x mizu #taimizu #taizu #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #taigen blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #i caaaant stop thinking about THEM #like im soooo sorry im being annoying and cant shut up about these two #the brainrot is real yall. pray for me in these trying times #shut up haydar #meta dissertations.pdf #fandom.rtf

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fredwkong · 8 months

Text

Himbo Maker: Misha

Misha was an Egirl: a European Guy In Real Life. He would do his makeup, put on fake eyelashes, a wig, and a pair of pink headphones with kitty cat ears, and stream video games online. He loved to troll new viewers by spending an hour or so doing a breathy, feminine voice, and then suddenly hit them with his natural Baltic baritone. The way the chat went crazy made it worth it every time.

The whole game was helped by how petit and curvy Misha had always been. Even in his twenties, he still had a soft, almost girlish body and stood at most of other guys’ sternums. Too bad he wasn’t a trans girl, or at least a gay boy, he sometimes thought, looking at his body in the mirror. Gay guys were supposed to go for little guys who looked like him.

One evening, Misha was just starting his stream when some user started acting really weird in chat. He had a username that almost seemed familiar to Misha, but the guy he was thinking of had always been polite and given insightful comments on Misha’s gaming. This guy’s messages were full of typos, and he couldn’t seem to stop talking about his muscles.

Misha was just about to ban the guy when an alert sounded: Misha’s charming, girly laugh, which indicated a user had just donated a hefty sum. Of course, it was this annoying brodude.

“Uh,” said Misha, almost forgetting to put on his femmy voice, “He says, “Bro, this guy liek wants to chat wiht u on stream.” And there’s a link in the donation.”

Clicking the link, Misha found himself looking at a chat website he’d never seen before. “Hold on, let me share my screen,” he simpered, sharing the chat window. Somehow, his usual screen name was already in the bar. It must have populated from his stream.

Mish-kittycat: Like, heyoooo! You okay with being on stream with me? (✿◠‿◠)

Himbo_mkr: No way, bruh! I love meeting new bros. Like, hi stream!

Misha was a bit offended that this chat partner would refer to him as a “bro.” But stream chat seemed interested, so he thought it could be worth a few minutes to humour the donater. It had been a fair amount of money.

Mish-kittycat: What do you want to talk about UwU

Himbo_mkr: Bro, you know that all I ever talk about are my sick gains and going out with guys, lmao

Okay, so this was a troll. They probably wanted to get Misha banned for lewdness or something. Still, at least it was original that the troll character was a gay guy. He rolled his eyes at the stream and said, out loud in his girl voice, “Looks like someone got mad enough to pay to speak with all this.” He gestured down his slim body in tonight’s outfit, a stereotypical Japanese maid costume.

Himbo_mkr: Huhuhu, bro, you clicked on the link. Didn’t force you to do it.

Misha froze. Of course the troll was watching the stream. “Heh, I don’t let meatheaded bullies boss me around,” he chirped, trying to save face.

Himbo_mkr: You sure? You sure like it when your chat bosses you around, bro.

Now this guy was just lying. Misha scowled, even though he knew the expression would make his foundation crack unattractively. “This is a really weird way to bully someone.” He looked at the stream chat, waiting for his subscribers to back him up.

But the character of the chat seemed to have changed. No, they had always been bossy, Misha suddenly remembered. They would tell Misha how to play his games all the time while he pretended to struggle. It was a key part of the dynamic of his channel that chat bossed him around, and right now they were telling him to go back to chatting with this guy. One guy even messaged, “No more talking, kitty. You’re only allowed to write in the chat.” Misha gave the camera a plaintive look, but listened. He always listened to his chat.

Mish-kittycat: So maybe you’re right about that one thing, but coming in here being rude is totally uncool (งᓀ‸ᓂ)ง

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I was just tryna compliment you on your sick bis, dude.

Misha cocked his head, confused. He was the opposite of buff, that was why he was so good at dressing as a girl. But as he continued to think about it, he remembered all the hours he spent working on his arms. He kept a set of weights next to his bedroom door, and he did bicep curls to failure every time he went through the doorway. Yeah, his biceps were his pride and joy, and they were usually how he showed off his manliness when he revealed his deep voice and accent.

A tip came in. “Flex for us, kitty,” commanded the text-to-speech voice. With a smirk, Misha lifted up one of his arms, feeling it stretch the sleeve of his maid costume as the veins popped. Too bad the rest of his body hadn’t followed his arms and gotten bulky.

Himbo_mkr: We’re all waiting for you to drop your lifting routine, bro! You’ve been totally blowing up.

Misha blushed at the flattery. His physique wasn’t all that impressive. Sure, now that he thought about it, he had been really hitting the weights a lot and eating right. In fact, his room seemed to be full of lifting clothes and supplements as he looked around. But that was because some of his subscribers kept telling him to get to the gym and hit his macros. It had actually been really freeing to just let people pay to tell him what to do on his fitness journey. And it was paying off! Misha definitely couldn’t pass for a girl these days, which was why the channel had changed to be more about doing stuff in-game for the highest bidders.

The maid costume barely wrapped around Misha’s broad pecs, and the garters had torn when he’d tried to pull them up his thick thighs. Sure, it had been funny when the stream started and the chat had gotten Misha to show off his shoulder raises while dressed in a little maid skirt, but the polyester was really starting to chafe on his smooth muscles. It was a relief when a tip rolled in while Misha flexed and said “Kitty, wear comfy clothes.” The chat oooohed and aaaahed as Misha shucked the maid costume, showing off his bulky chest, and pulled on his favourite comfy shirt instead. Sure, it had some tears and stuff, but as a masculine guy, Misha wasn’t worried about dressing up fancy or anything.

The guy whose chat Misha was streaming had been quiet, so Misha hopped back over and sent another message.

Mish-kittyhunk: Thanks man! It’s all about trusting the process.

Himbo_mkr: I can tell that you trust people, bro! You’re like a puppy lmao.

Well, Misha thought, maybe he did like getting bossed around in chat, but it wasn’t like he trusted everyone blindly! Okay, well, maybe he did tend to stop to help people on the road and then lose his wallet a lot. They looked like they needed help! And maybe he did sometimes click on links that meant he needed to take his phone to the store for them to fix, but so did everyone else!

Looking at the chat, who were all laughing about Misha being a totally trusting puppy, Misha had to finally agree. That was why one of his subscribers had gotten him this headset with floppy dog ears on it, after all.

Mish-puphunk: Haha, you got me, dude! That’s why I clicked on this link, too XD

Himbo_mkr: It’s okay, bro. Lots of gay hunks are pretty dumb, it just adds to that himbo appeal.

This time this guy was definitely making stuff up. Misha was totally straight, he just didn’t do well with girls. Well, that and being a submissive hunk online mostly attracted a gay male fanbase. And, well, now that he thought about it, when was the last time Misha had really thought about a girl? Like, maybe if it was a domme? But no, even then, Misha would really prefer a guy to be involved at some point. This guy was probably right, Misha was gay.

It was super hard to think. There was a reason that Misha preferred to let chat do the thinking for him. Even before he realised how much he loved to listen when men told him what to do, Misha had never been much of a deep thinker. That was why most of the stuff in his room was gym gear, gaming stuff, or whatever his subscribers bought for him. Lately, they had been really loving when Misha wore even less clothes and showed off more of his growing body, and Misha was happy to oblige as long as they kept telling him what to do!

Mish-puphunk: Lol I guess you’re right! I just wanna give sirs what they want

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I totally get why you love pup play so much. You just love being obedient and dumb and empty lmao. You, like, pretty much live in your mask these days.

A pup mask…Misha was pretty sure one of his subscribers had sent him one of those once, but it had been really confusing to put on and he’d only worn it once. No, wait, that wasn’t right. Misha was such a ditz! He’d loved the experience of putting on the pup mask and letting himself be a dumb pup for his chat. And chat had loved sending in tips to give him commands like “sit,” “roll over,” and “stick a tail in your hole.”

It had been so popular that the subscribers had told Misha to make it a weekly thing, then a biweekly thing, and by now it had pretty much become what Misha did during his streams. While chatting with this guy had been fun, Misha really wanted to get on with the stream and mask up. He opened his mouth to tell the viewers that, but then remembered that he had been ordered not to talk. Too bad, chat would only hear his deep, resonant voice if they ordered him to bark after he put on his mask.

Mish-puphunk: Okay dude, I gotta go be a good dumb pup now.

Himbo_mkr: Got it, bruh! You got a bunch of hunky doms to please by being a good pup slut!

Chat cheered as Misha stopped streaming the chat window and winked at the camera. An especially hung dom who loved to tip had won the bid war last night to decide what Misha wore, so Misha fondled the straps of his leather harness as he got up to grab his mask. He wondered what his chat full of muscular, horny himbo doms would have him do today.

Misha slipped on the mask and let his mind go blank.

#male transformation #mental change #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #dumber tf #himbofication #himbo maker #pup tf #sub tf #all fwkong

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gojo-wifee · 3 months

Note

Can I request a threesome with Geto and Gojo, because you love them equally and they love you the same, and they want to have babies? UwU

۵ minors do not interact ۵

i can just imagine them both so thrilled to find out that you have feelings for both of them, each of them have been so worried that you liked one more than the other and it feels so good to know you love them equally. gojo brought up the idea of getting you pregnant, the thought of you carrying a baby filled him with pure joy, he and geto decided to take turns with you so they don’t have to choose who the father will be. geto goes first, he stuffs your pussy full of his cock while gojo watches and slowly strokes his cock. when geto finally cums, gojo immediately takes his place and pounds into you with so much passion. it doesn’t take long for his orgasm to wash over him, his seed filling your womb and mixing in with getos. it doesn’t matter to them who the father is, as long as you and the child are loved and taken care of, they’re happy.

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chaconnewon · 20 days

Text

dazed heart — l.hs

pairing: non-idol!heeseung & fem!reader word count: 1.7k tags: friends to lovers (?), masturbation(male recieving), sub(?)heeseung, kind of whipped reader, teasing if you squint, little nipple play, MDNI lmk if i missed something uwu. a/n: it's my first time writing something sort of excplicit, so i aplogise if it is something wrong. don't be afraid to tell me, constructive criticism are welcome !!!

The rain poured endlessly as you watched it fall through the window. Not like you didn’t like rainy days, in fact you loved them but today's plan was going out with your best friend, a little attempt to clear both of your minds, spend time together since your jobs kept you both bussy. But just a few minutes after your arrival at his house, it started raining.

Sure you could do something indoors, but your heart felt suffocated by his presence at his own home, cold weather making it more difficult for you to stay focused.

You have been friends with Heeseung a while ago, a friend from a friend. You were pathetically quick at catching feelings and decided to keep them to yourself. Heeseung was quite flirty with everyone, even you, and you couldn’t help but imagine how sweet his love must feel. Not thinking about anyone else, no other girls around him, just you and him, together. Sharing feelings and soft cuddles.

Sitting at his gaming chair you rubbed your palms above your thighs, chasing some warmth. You regretted putting those shorts on, searching out for a blanket.

‘’Need anything, pretty?’’

Not those pet names again… You looked at him. He was laying on his bed, scrolling through his social media. Heeseung was wearing some pants on top of his knees with a white t-shirt perfectly buttoned. The way his free hand was placed behind his head, gazing you over the screen made you somewhat flutter.

‘’I’m just feeling a little bit cold, but it’s fine.’’

Heeseung put his phone down, looking at you with furrowed brows.

‘’No, it isn’t. Do you need a blanket? Hoodie? Some sweatpants?’’

‘’I’m okay! Really. Don’t worry.’’

‘’Come here.’’

He patted an empty spot near him on his bed. You hesitated for a while. Was it okay to cuddle with friends? Was it okay to cuddle with someone you had strong feelings for? You didn’t want to ruin anything because of your awkwardness or how you could feel after that. The idea of being wrapped around his arms was so tempting, feeling his warm embrace your body, so close to him.

You let out a small sigh, standing from the chair and walking towards the edge of his bed. Heeseung gave you some space as he watched you with a soft smile spreading through his lips. How could you say no to him? He looked so cute when things turned out his way.

Cautiously you made yourself some space, and soon one of his arms was embroiled to your waist, slightly pulling you closer. ‘It’s just to warm up, Jesus’ you thought to yourself, trying to calm your pounding heart. You just hoped he didn’t notice.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you closed your eyes, enjoying the moment. God knew when you could be like this with him again, so you better take that opportunity. Even though you closed your eyes you felt his eyes glued on you.

You tried to act cool, ignoring the glance that made you shiver, but was useless.

‘’Is everything alright?’’

Heeseung took his time to respond.

‘’I just thought you looked very pretty.’’

JesusfuckingChrist.

You felt like you stopped breathing, sudden cold sweat running down your back. Was he flirting? Not that you cared but it was a moment sort of… intimate.

‘’Must be the outfit i choose.’’ He chuckled, shaking his head.

‘’No — I mean always.’’

This time you couldn’t keep yourself together. With some hidden courage you looked up, searching for his gaze but Heeseung was looking at you previously. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed.

You parted your lips as an intent to say something but nothing came to your mind. It was blank. Was even worse when you caught his eyes analysing your facial expression, your eyes one by one, reaching your lips and back again to your eyes.

This flirty motherfucker.

“Heeseung—“

“Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t think twice, taking his offer like your life depended on it. You nodded but before he could make any move, you readjusted your position for a better and comfortable access.

Taking your time, you slowly made disappear any space between your lips, pressing on them.

It lasted about a few seconds before Heeseung started to move them softly. There was no rush: his parents weren’t at home, and the heavy rain made the perfect atmosphere. You didn’t doubt before kissing him back, savouring his lips. They were as soft and sweet as you pictured in your head.

Suddenly, somehow, you took the lead and straddled him, deepening the kiss a bit more. His hands were placed at your waist, caressing them with both thumbs. You broke the union between both mouths to kiss his neck. Hearing his breath hitch gave you the impulse to continue, to work his tender skin with your teeths and tongue.

As your mouth began to earn soft gasps from him, your hands worked to unbutton his t-shirt. Opening it and slid it through his arms.

Your lips went down his collarbone, making sure no inch of skin was untouched by your lips. His hand roamed your body, leaving soft sighs against his skin. You couldn’t believe that was happening, like a dream come true. You were afraid that it was just a lucid dream, your imagination scaring you for leading into such an accurate scenario. But the way his body was softly moving under yours, claiming in silence for more of your touch made you feel more alive than ever.

Your lips trailed down damp kisses, arriving to catch one of his nipples. You sucked and licked amused by the noises his throat left. Starting to feel aroused, your hips began to rock his, feeling his boner getting hard in no time.

‘’Y/n… ‘’ his lips let out a moan, his hands grabbing your waist.

As his hips were rubbing your clothing core, you detached your lips from him, looking up to meet his gaze.

The image was heavenly. Chest going up and down trying to catch his breath, cheeks with a slight blush on them, and his pleading eyes trying to tell you something, but he was a little bit shy to say it out loud. You could figure it out tho.

Your hands flew to the hem of his pants, looking once again to hip waiting for a response. When he nodded, you hooked the waistband and slowly pulled down. With a bit of his help, the bottoms were forgotten somewhere on the floor.

You couldn’t help but look at his erection, a small damp patch darking his underwear.

‘’S--Stop looking, it’s embarrassing…’’

You chuckled, shaking your head.

‘’Says who?’’

And before Heeseung could say anything, you grabbed his shaft around your hand and started to move it up and down. The fabric between his dick and your palm was making the move a bit restricted, but it didn’t stop you.

You saw him grabbing the sheets under both of you, holding back a few moans that were hard to retain. You didn’t want that, you needed to hear him. How good you were making him feel.

You sped up your pace, making his body squirm as his lips parted to let out soft, kind-of-pitched moans. That kept you going, ignoring the wetness between your legs, just wanting to focus on him.

‘’Please p--please… take…’’

‘’Hm?’’

You knew. Heeseung knew you knew. And he wasn’t having it.

‘’Don’t test me, y/n.’’

‘’Oh? What’s with that tone?’’ you squeezed his tip, earring a loud moan from him. ‘’Watch out.’’

You were having the time of your life, having him at your service and there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. Fuck, that submissive trait of him made you hornier.

‘’I’m sorry just — take it out, please.’’

Enough of making Heeseung suffer. You nodded at his words, hooking the hem of his underwear and pulling down enough for his dick to come out, smacking his abs. Took you a few minutes to resume what you were doing. His tip was covered up with pre cum, so when you slid your hand all the way down, it was smooth.

No slow pace this time, just you jerking off your best friend like it was a usual activity between him and you. And it could be your frequent activity to do more often if he wanted, but now wasn’t the right time to think about that. The way your name left his lips made your head spin.

His eyes were closed, hands holding for dear life into his bed sheets that his knuckles were turning white. Oh, to engrave that image in your brain.

Soon his hips helped you out, bucking into your fist like he was fucking you deep inside. At that point, Heeseung could care less if the neighbours could hear him.

‘’Fuck! Just like that… feels so good.’’

His back was arched a bit, and even your arm was starting to feel numb due the lack of experience, somewhere inside you took strength to continue pleasing him.

Your hand was moving up and down, the slick noises filling the room as you gave everything to help him reach his highest point. No inch of his dick was left unnoticed, sometimes you slowed your pace reaching his base just for coming back at his tip to stroke it with eagerness.

Heeseung could feel a knot tighten on his abdomen.

‘’Fuckfuckfuck! D–Don’t stop please…! I’m s–so close!’’

It was fucking tempting to suddenly stop any move, only for him to cry and beg you to continue, that he was feeling so good for you to stop. But you were not that mean, right?

You sped up your pace a little more, all that your aching limb let you. Heeseung was just a few strokes away from release.

‘’God! I’m cumming! K–Keep going I’m cumm—’’

His words lingered in the air as the climax reached him, tensing his body.

As he told you, you kept your pace, helping him through his high. Heeseung’s back was arched, his hot seed dripping down your hand and reaching his abs. Mouth opened as quiet moans left his throat.

Gently, as his cock softened in your hands, you stopped your movements watching him come back to reality. He gave you a tired look but in his lips was a smirk.

‘’That was…’’

‘’...amazing, wasn’t it? I can tell.’’

He laughed, kicking you softly with his knee.

‘’ Wait, let me bring you some towels to clean this mess.’’

You caressed his thigh, leaving towards the bathroom. As you left, Heeseung sighed feeling complete, his heart pounding fiercly inside his chest.

#enhypen #drabble #enha #enha x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha heeseung #enha smut #heeseung scenarios #chaconnewon

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joshfutturman · 7 months

Text

mini oneshot (request) - mike schmidt pretends to hate the reality tv shows you (his partner) watch, but one day he catches you watching - and can't help but get himself hooked on the drama (800 words) pairing - mike schmidt (five night's at freddy's) + gn reader tags: just a short lil thing, established relationship, reader lives with mike, you're watching 'love is blind', abby is sleeping!

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

✰ he'd recognise that god damn intro song from anywhere. it bleeds through from the television in his living room into the kitchen where he was attempting to reheat leftovers in the microwave. even the humming from the old, dated machine couldn't block it out.

✰ mike had no idea what the name of the reality show was, just that it was your favourite to watch after a long day. it was cute, how absorbed you'd get into the drama. but mike wasn't into all that shit - he had enough drama in his own life never mind watching other people's misery.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

notes: thanks for the request anon! this was so silly, cute n fun to write! i had to write it immediately uwu

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

✰ you were cosy on the sofa, wrapped up in your favourite blankets - they were mike's, but you'd pretty much stolen them at this point. your eyes were fixated on the screen. it didn't bother you that mike wasn't interested in 'love is blind', (you'd told him the name at least eight times, but he'd scoff at even the mention of it), you were too engrossed to care.

✰ the show began, introducing each of the excited yet nervous bachelors and bachelorettes. his ears pricked up at the talking, and mike supposed he had time to kill while his food was becoming edible.

✰ poking his head around the corner, his eyes land on the tv over your shoulder. you don't notice. "some of these people are so fuckin' shallow. . ." mike mumbles, half paying attention. you're surprised to hear him, turning your head towards his voice. he's leaning against the wall, eyes on the tv - but they're suddenly on you.

✰ like he's been caught in the act, he huffs and retreats back into the kitchen. it's subtle, but you catch a blush on his cheeks. he's embarrassed. but it wasn't like he was actually watching it. he was just waiting for his food. that was all. the show was dumb. remember?

✰ a few minutes later he's at the kitchen table, leftovers in his bowl, positioning his chair so he can just see the tv from where he's sitting. from the corner of your eye, you notice him - but choose not to point it out, this was a breakthrough. maybe you should get it on camera.

✰ a few of the couples on screen begin to meet - well, blindly, a wall separating the two of them as they begin to chat. love is blind, after all. you're once again gripped by the romance, the excitement, the secret of it all.

✰ mike's food is growing cold, he hasn't touched it since he sat down. "that guy is flirting with her hard but he was also doing that with the last girl," he suddenly pipes up in a disapproving tone, scrunching his nose, "what's his issue?"

✰ your eyes light up and you try not to make it too obvious how excited you are by mike's words. he's watching love is blind with you. like really watching. "they have to find a date, mike." you say, nonchalantly with a shrug of your shoulders, "they sort of have to flirt with everyone until they find the perfect person and then they meet once they've both decided they like one another."

✰ he scoffs, clearly finding this premise stupid. this causes him to withdraw back to his now cold food. but it's fine. you know he's hooked now.

✰ ten minutes pass without another word, and mike is silently behind you now, standing behind the sofa with his arms firmly crossed like a grumpy old man, ready to shake his fist at the news. you'd noticed as soon as he stood up from the dining room but hadn't dared to turn around to catch eyes with mike - knowing full well that he'd act like a deer caught in the headlights and scatter away.

✰ "this guy. . ." he tuts, speaking for the first time in forever. "dave." you correct him. "dave," he repeats, "this. . . dave, he's a complete asshole to natalie." a large grin grows on your lips. once he knows their names it's all over. "i mean," he continues, "he's giving it all to - what's her face, rebecca? and then with natalie he's being a total douchebag." sighing, mike shakes his head, brows furrowed. the look of someone totally in too deep with love is blind.

✰ and yet, he walks back into the kitchen a few moments later, carrying his bowl through and you deflate a little. maybe he wasn't hooked. your disappointed expression aims back at the television. watching in silence.

✰ . . .

✰ "did dave do anything stupid while i was gone?" mike asked, hurrying over with a bowl of popcorn. he practically spills half of it trying to sit down next to you in a hurry, ushering your legs into his lap - his eyes didn't leave the screen. you can't help but smile, really smile, a goofy smile directly at him.

✰ a glance in your direction. "don't." he says firmly, "and if you tell anyone i watched this with you, you're dead." you hold a hand up, "i won't tell a single soul." "good, because i need to see dave get his ass dumped." mike says with smirk, shoving a fistful of popcorn into his mouth.

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pinejayy · 1 year

Note

hii, if you accept request, can you do some headcanons (nsfw or sfw) for kokushibo? <3

sure thing! I hope you enjoy these uwu

sfw and nsfw headcanons of six eye daddy // I really hope I did a decent job because oof I’ve never written for him or read any fics of him so 🥹

Kokushibo Headcanons

SFW

Honestly you should be lucky to be dating him, he’s Upper Moon One and you’re nothing but dirt to him. But he will warm up to you eventually. And when he does he’ll protect you considering how weak he sees you.

He doesn’t trust the other Upper Moons around you. Especially Douma. He’s afraid if he leaves you with him he’s gonna find you dead or that you’ll leave him for him…

And as for the other Upper Moons he would trust Akaza and Nakime the most. Hantengu would probably annoy you with his crying and he sees Gyokko as a creep so that’s a no.

He’s super jealous!! He doesn’t appreciate when you’re talking to a other being. And if you were to smile at someone or let out a giggle he’ll kill that person. But he won’t let you know.

But in reality he’s a quite Demon, he prefers to keep to himself but since you came into his life he loves sharing secrets with you. You guys can talk for hours, enjoying each other’s company.

Please cuddle him, he appreciate it. And as you cuddle him please play with his hair. He melt to your touch.

Also please braid his hair. He’ll love the feeling of it.

When he is around you he has to be careful, he doesn’t want to hurt you with his strength.

He loves to lay down on his bed while you’re laying on top of him. He’ll hold you close, he’s never been this happy and grateful to have a lover considering he’s a ruthless demon.

He’s lucky to have you because he thinks that you deserve better. Why would you choose him? He could literally kill you at any given moment.

He’s also sadden that he’ll out live you, but he could turn you into a demon but he’s afraid that if you do become a demon you’ll forget him.

Long walks in the woods during the night time. Imagine holding his hand. These long walks would consist in him giving you a piggy back ride.

If he’s had a stressful day you either give him his space so he can cool off or you could hold him and talk to him until he’s calm down. Depending on how pissed off he is.

Loves bringing you gifts. He mostly steals them but it’s the thought that counts. Also brings you a lot of flowers.

He hardly says “I love you” but he does love you, it’s just hard for him to show it.

NSFW

Oh boy! Honestly both Douma and Akaza stress him out with their constant fighting so when he’s pissed off about that he’ll take it on you.

He’s either going to fuck you until you can’t walk for the next week or so. Or he’ll make you get on your knees and take his cock down your throat.

He loves receiving blow jobs from you. He loves the sight of your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock. “Yeah that’s right take my cock darling!”

And you better swallow unless you prefer swallowing your own blood.

Please dress up in lingerie, it will drive him crazy. He’s gonna rip it up but he’ll love seeing you all dolled up for him.

Loves being the top!! He’ll be bottom for special occasions.

Missionary is his favorite sex position. He wants to watch your eyes roll behind your head. He wants to watch you moan.

He loves eye contact and as he’s pumping his juices inside of you he’ll tell you. “Look at me in the eyes while I fuck you.”

“Which ones!” You would moan out.

He would stop for a moment and look at you. It’s dead quite. You’re lucky that he loves you because if he didn’t he would have snapped your neck.

DIRTY TALK!! “Oh you’re naughty, I can smell how turned on you are.”

He loves teasing you. He loves touching your sensitive areas, and since he knows your body so well he knows how to make you cry out and beg for him to plow you.

He enjoys marking you. So that would consist in hickeys, bite marks and scratch marks. And if you were to show them off and not cover them up he’ll appreciate it. Everyone should know who you belong too.

You should consider in investing into a wheelchair because he’ll fuck the stupid outta of you. And our six eye boi is a big package.

#kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #headcanons #reader insert #x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #smut #kny

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onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

the devil wears baby blue • h.j.s.

Pairing: joshua hong x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol Warnings: joshua hong himself 🚩🚩, swearing, alcohol, reader is a menace and tease too i'm ngl, grinding, groping, slight exhibition kink, degradation, name-calling, objectification, FINGERS (all of it fingering, riding, etc), mentions of knife/surgery, choking, wbk but major hints to big cock josh 💔, marking, licking, alluding to devil imagery uwu, roleplay sort of but not really, kind of public sex acts + a mirror, manhandling, lil slaps, dangerous fashion decisions + "fun" clothing shenanigans during sex ig????, mentions of car sex and oral sex (male rec.), dirty talk (joshua won't stfu), edging, lil bit of pain kink if you squint ❤️‍🩹, and tons of banter/insults, is there a thing like a wealth kink??? - as always lmk if i missed smth WC: 7k A/N: *taps mic* would love to thank @onlymingyus and @duhnova for proofing, hyping, and supporting me on this. also ofc a huge honorary shout out to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for the constant cheering and screeching at me in and out of dms - hope you enjoy this hehe. idk if jackie will see this but her watch post(s) helped re-inspire me to attack this wip. and finally blowing kisses to the joshushushus in my inbox, i hope you'll like this! ps if anyone recognizes where the last dialogue is from, you receive a kiss on the forehead from me and get to spend one night with joshua!! 😏

↪ this is a loosely based prequel to idiot

Seungkwan's hand lays steady on your back, guiding you through the crowd much more efficiently than you could have on your own. He has a way of navigating through the waves of people with practiced ease whereas you would rather just be swept away. It's why you enjoy going to the club with him, especially one as crazy as tonight's.

You would think you were still on the dance floor with how many people are bustling around you, mingling and giggling just as much on the sidelines as they do moving to the music. Drinks in hand, they chat and flirt with one another so it takes nearly twice as long to make it to the bar than you think it really should.

"This better be worth it," you shout directly into your friend's ear despite how close you are to him. "For the amount of times my feet have been stepped on!"

There's a sharp pinch from his fingers that snuck to your side. "Told you not to wear those stupid shoes."

Though you can't exactly hear it, you can see how his pouty lips purse out in a huff. He's also grumbling under his breath and you're able to catch bits and pieces. Things like, "won't matter" and "swept off your feet anyways" and "don't blame me" make you roll your eyes.

"Acting like this is my social debut with the prince of wales."

"Someone's been watching too much Bridgerton. And with how often you fail to come —" he's interrupted by the loud thumping of the bass, "makes sense."

"You can't possibly compare me against your standards, Mister Social Butterfly. You know everyone… and you've probably screwed a lot of them as well."

Seungkwan can only guess a gist of what you actually say and is therefore mildly tempted to let you get lost in the sea of people like he knows you'd rather prefer. But he's finally made it all the way over to what seems like an impenetrable social circle, though the group readily parts to make room for the two of you to squeeze in. So, he'll have to bring you along for the adventure.

"Hey there!"

"Hello!"

"Fancy seeing you here."

"I know, right?"

Greetings are easily interchanged. Most of them are familiar faces — friends of your own or people you've gotten to know simply through Seungkwan's ever-growing collection of new instagram posts.

Jeonghan's got some poor new soul to flirt with again and Seokmin looks like he'd rather be at home watching cooking videos. Vernon is wearing headphones of all things while Seungcheol has a shit-eating grin on his handsome face. And you instinctively know Mingyu has to be up to no good because you don't see or hear him.

Not that you're actually paying that much attention to the same-old-same people, focus naturally drawn to the tall man standing next to Wonwoo. Light brown hair curls just beneath his ears, shaggy enough that the urge to run your fingers through and imagine what the tug of strands between them might feel like consumes you. It comes as a shock, considering that Jeonghan's had the same style before and you've never felt like this.

You drink in the baby blue shirt that compliments the mystery man's skin tone, top buttons left undone to showcase the delicate silver around his throat and framed by collar bones. The fabric's elegance belies the strength of the body it clothes, material straining tastefully in the tiniest bit over a broad chest and wide shoulders. Sleeves rolled up to accentuate the flex of his forearm down to the long, long fingers wrapped all the way around the glass of alcohol held between them.

"That's Joshua Hong," Seungkwan supplies helpfully though he can't hide how smug he sounds observing you and shares a knowing look with Vernon who snickers.

"Joshua Hong," you repeat and enjoy how easy his name sounds and feels coming off your tongue. "Is that so?"

"Yeah and to my knowledge, he's extremely single."

"Don't tell me that's how you introduce me to other people."

He feigns innocence. "Can't recall but even if I did, bet it's going to work in your favor. Don't look now but it seems like you've caught a big fish."

Of course, when someone tells you not to look, the first thing you'd logically do is look. Glad you weren't caught staring earlier now that the very same man you were drooling over has noticed your existence and is staring directly at you.

Brown irises drop down to scan your figure and the suggestiveness of it lights something deep within you. You're quick to nudge off Seungkwan's arm around your waist when Joshua's eyes linger a second longer on it than you'd expect, ignoring your friend's sassy mutter of "hook, line, and sinker."

"I… I really don't like that implication, 'Kwan."

"Sure you don't."

Joshua Hong's intent gaze is far from unsavory. Even if it was more perverse in nature, you think you'd feel drunk off the same amount of power it fills you with and you haven't had a single drop of alcohol yet. A swear word escapes under your breath at the dampness of your back — and elsewhere — before sending the admiring man a demure smile of acknowledgement and turning once more to Seungkwan.

"You were criticizing my shoes earlier?"

"'Cause you can barely walk in them!"

"Then let's put these bad boys to good use."

Your friend can only shake his head as you stride away. He'll keep an occasional eye on you from afar for the rest of the night but he has a hunch things will be… fine. He hopes. Wonwoo did say Joshua was a decent man, after all.

He'll have to be… if he's willing to put up with you, Seungkwan thinks to himself with a cringe as he watches.

Vernon hands over a much appreciated beer and he sidles up to the unbothered man's side, jutting his chin out in your direction and asking, "Are you ready for some entertainment?"

"Yo, always bro."

"Cheers to that."

Meanwhile, you've made it to the new company without stumbling once — something you're very proud of. You nod at Joshua. Nothing more than a soft flutter of eyelashes, alerting him that you're aware of his presence but indulging in nothing more. Instead, you choose to lean comfortably into his companion's space.

"Hi Woo, care to share?"

The bespectacled man wordlessly offers his nearly empty glass of wine, always easygoing and ever perceptive. Unlike his best friend who never fails to be endearing but can't take a hint to save his life. One of the many reasons why Mingyu has never succeeded as a wingman — unfathomably clumsy but still loveable in all aspects to steal everyone's heart involved.

You finish the rest of Wonwoo's drink off with a satisfied hiss at the taste but not without a snort. "I didn't mean that, silly."

He cracks a smile, returning the teasing with a fake, reproaching scold of your name. "Could've told me you wanted to steal my buddy and not drain all my alcohol!"

Joshua laughs — loud and clear above the din of noises surrounding you. It has an air of gracefulness to it and you're sure the club brightens in a way that's totally not from the strobe lights going crazy.

"So, this is Seungkwan's friend…"

You jab Wonwoo's side with a huff. "Hey, I'm much more than that!"

"If it's any consolation," Joshua cuts in with another laugh and a handshake, taking on a self introduction. "I'm just some guy named Joshua. Hope that doesn't disappoint."

"Just some guy, huh? One that wears a Royal Oak?"

He thrillingly doesn't let go of your hand, keeping a firm but gentle grasp when turning it with his to properly glance at the notorious status symbol wrapped around it. The steel casing glints just as fiercely as the sapphire glass over white gold hour-markers embedded on its face.

"Yep, still just some guy that's called Josh. Joshua Hong, to be exact. Scared you off yet?"

"I wear heels that have a one hundred percent chance of breaking my ankle to a place where there's a terrible combo of dancing and drinks. But you think I'd be scared by a pretty boy wearing thirty-some jewels around his wrist?"

He steals another appreciative look up and down your body. Not as fiery as the first one but still bold without shame, striking another bolt of heat that flashes through your veins and simmers in your lower abdomen.

"Taste. And bite. I'd expect nothing less from someone like you."

"Someone like me?" you scoff as he winks, taking a step back and extending your arm as far as it will go with the notion for you to follow.

"Dance with me?"

Wonwoo had quietly faded into the background and slipped away for another refill. Smart guy. There's no one to worry about leaving behind when you accept this unfamiliar man's invitation and let him whisk you in the direction of the dancefloor. But not before catching Seungkwan's mild and supportive yet watchful gaze before he raises his beer in a mock salute.

It's almost cute at how inept Joshua is maneuvering through the tumultuous flow and ebb of moving bodies compared to said good friend. The way his taller frame looks more like a poor cruise ship tossed helplessly in the waves of the ocean than the stationary lighthouse and its reassuring beacon you'd expect causes a chuckle.

"You're almost as bad at this as I am."

He shoots an apologetic smile at the same time someone once again jostles his shoulder, pushing him closer into you. "Nightclubs really aren't my scene."

You're not complaining about the aided proximity that lets you hear what he says without strain. Although you do try to match the beat as it changes to something more sensual yet still playful. Going along with the rhythm of the other dancers rather than against much smoother than Joshua's awkward attempt to mimic. He sticks behind you, failing to hide the blatant mesmerization at how you sway effortlessly to the beat.

"You're not bad at this at all."

You shrug. "I've been here often enough to blend in better than most. So tell me, what's a rich boy's usual scene then? Shanqin Bay's clubhouse?"

"Hah, you wanna come with me sometime and find out?"

"Only if you can promise a fun experience… oh," you throw a smirk at him over your shoulder, "and to cover all the costs, of course."

"A pretty thing like you would have anyone saying yes and wrapped around your little finger."

"Maybe, but only if they're worth my attention."

"Afraid to disappoint yet again when I spend most hours of the day in the operating room."

You turn abruptly to face him, grateful for the hand that shoots out to support your elbow despite his surprise at your dubious side-eye. "Are you a doctor?"

"Maybe."

"Director's son?"

"Cliché enough for you yet?"

"I recall someone who's wearing a Royal Oak saying I had good taste so I'm not going to complain. Though it would have been quite the story to hear you were the one under the knife," you take a step closer and slip a finger underneath his silver chain to tempt him closer, "to end up looking this good." When large hands hesitate to land on your hips, you raise an eyebrow. "Thought a surgeon would have a steadier grip."

"Oh." Brown eyes flicker with a carnal desire, focusing on your lips. "You expect me to be a rich, talented playboy and not be naturally handsome too?"

"Sorry, Doctor Hong but there has to be at least something wrong with you."

The polite smile he'd been wearing all night quirks up at the corners, changing into something more on edge. A little dangerous. Beckoning excitement. He spins you back around, hands solidly landing on your sides — this time without reserve — to prevent your lower bodies from touching and changes the subject back to when you approached Wonwoo and him.

"Do you always take drinks from guys?"

"Ah, hm. Just the good ones."

"Good alcohol?" His breath is hot against the ear he's speaking directly into. "Or… good boys?"

Biting your lower lip does nothing to hide the unfettered glee you're feeling. "Alcohol, of course." A breathy sigh and you take the leap. "Want a taste?"

There's no need to ask twice. It's like the right key turning its lock. The doctor's initial awkward movements are nowhere to be found as one hand smoothly leaves your hip, turning your chin toward him to meet you halfway with his lips ready to brush against yours.

At the last minute, he backs off and turns your chin to its original position of facing forward with a smirk you can't see. Who cares about a missed kiss when his other hand slides across your stomach? Urging you to press your ass backwards and grind against the very obvious bulge that his khakis do nothing to hide.

Its growing hardness and promising length cause you to automatically moan, arching your back with the feral need to feel more. Your head tilts to the side, hips swiveling and swaying not to the beat but the rise of his cock. The position willingly grants Joshua access to lick, suck, and bite at the exposed skin.

He hums along to the music with a melodic voice from what you can hear, though you find more enjoyment in the consistent vibrations against your neck. A naughty hand plays with the tucked-in hem of your blouse and an occasional finger teasingly slips under the waistline of your jeans.

You can now feel Joshua's smirk when in turn, your fingers tangle in the bottom hairs of his mullet. His lips curl up, moving to nibble behind your other ear and breathe in your scent. As delightfully predicted, there's a distinct pull by your rings when you tug them free from the strands that has him pausing. Eliciting a sharp hiss and equally as sharp — but appreciative — thrust against your backside.

In retaliation, the lax hand caressing your throat tightens around it ever so slightly while he growls in your ear, "You said there has to be something wrong with me, right?"

"Mhm, oh yeah. Totally."

"Wanna fuck around and find out, beautiful?"

Hook, line, and sinker was damn right, Boo Seungkwan. Of course, the devil would be wearing a shirt the same shade as the sky where heaven's clouds make their home.

And you eagerly take the forbidden fruit — his hand, once again — and teeter after him. The red flags are already starting to fly at full mast but into the dimly lit hallway you go, elated to find an empty and quiet corner right before the stairs leading down to the bathrooms.

Underneath the neon glow of the exit sign, Joshua pins you against the wall with your arms laying on his shoulders. If you thought the attacks from his mouth were rough on the dance floor, they turn ten times more animalistic now that he has something to support you with other than strong arms and big hands. A pair of soft lips and the warm wet tongue between them contrast with the digging in of his teeth that follow your necklace chain to its adorning pendant.

It hangs in the v-neck window of your blouse and he lets out a tiny grunt of displeasure at the breasts being concealed away by the fabric and its many buttons. That doesn't stop him from tugging the bottom of the shirt free like a petulant child, nothing preventing his fingers now free to tickle and feel up the bare skin beneath.

This man is good at distraction. You don't think much of the light grazing beneath your tits, only a fleeting and casual touch. It feels so good when he cups under them like an additional support for the bra you're wearing and squeezes, causing you to keen and push yourself further into him. Then quick as lightning, one hand sneaks around the back to unhook the bra's clasp and the other deftly unbuttons your jeans.

"Joshua!" you squeak in protest, stepping back and pressing flat against the wall. You're quick to rush and slap a hand against your chest to keep the beloved strapless bra that's served you well from falling to the ground. "Is your red flag undressing someone in public?"

"Only if you insist 'cause surely I would never decline such a request being the gentleman that I am." The doctor makes no further move despite the way he licks his lips and teases, only chuckling at the menacing way you squint. "Just know my full intentions are to be touching all over and especially under whatever layers you're wearing very shortly."

There's no use hiding the whine that escapes when he places a hand on the wall next to you and leans in with a smirk.

"However, sweetheart… "

You catch his line of sight dart off to the left and your heart plummets, the fear of being left high and dry (wet) setting in. "Josh — "

"You'll have to forgive this rich boy's schemes. You see, I've always been very spoiled and just have to take what I want right away. And you're much too irresistible…"

He speaks casually. Like your jeans weren't suddenly unzippered and he isn't currently running a tantalizing finger on the fabric below the waistband of your panties, causing them to soaken further down. Way more than they already had and almost where you need him but also not even close in the slightest.

"Though as a rich boy," he continues, "I'm more than familiar with providing a small courtesy here and there. Would this club's filthy bathroom offer enough privacy for you, gorgeous?"

"… Only if you make sure I'm presentable enough to get down there… and back up here after, for when I have to leave with my friends."

Joshua's eyes widen before he's throwing his head back and laughing, bright and cheery like he's not going to rearrange your guts. "So you don't expect to go home with me? Maybe I won't be such a walking red flag to you."

"Doubtful. Now fix me up, Doctor."

"With pleasure."

It's not like there are as many people milling about as in the main area. Still, it's good to be conscientious. The same adept hands re-fasten your top undergarment efficiently. When he ducks his head to kindly fix your pants — which is sort of hot — you take the opportunity to whisper in his ear for shit-and-giggles to gauge his reaction.

"You know there's a front clasp too."

He glances up from where he's eye-level with your covered breasts, eyes darkening. Bingo.

"What a little whore we have here, hm?"

The nonchalant, degrading question and burning desire in his gaze makes your knees weaken, arousal skyrocketing. Enough that you almost throw all caution to the wind for him to fuck you. Right here, right now. But then he's pulling away, offering a palm you can't seem to refrain from taking a hold of. And ever the true picture of being a gentleman — helps you descend down the dark stairwell.

Your killer heels really do nothing for you physically (besides the threat of rolling an ankle) because it doesn't matter how tall or short you end up with them on. It's the confidence and ego that are heightened exponentially, which is all that matters.

That's why you follow Joshua Hong into the sketchy bathroom, let him lock the door, and bat your eyelashes with a coy smile. Leaning against the sink and fussing with your blouse as he approaches like a predator eyeing up its prey. Greedily drinking in the bare skin revealed by each button that's undone until only one is still fastened — right across your tits — that the man can unclasp himself if he so chooses.

Barely anything stopped him before anyways.

And that's what also fuels you to put your arms around his neck, pressing your bodies close together. Even closer by hooking your right leg across his hip, the point of your heel digging intentionally into the back of his other thigh. It's hot and hard — the dick bulge that keeps growing pressed tightly into the snug warmth of your core — and Joshua lets you grind down and dampen his khakis for a few moments longer than expected.

"Desperate, aren't you? Didn't wanna fuck in public 'cause you're freakier behind closed doors?"

"Just a little." You fight back the urge to whimper or admit anything to him. Like you aren't humping his length that only swells more and feels achingly thicker the harder you rut against it, eyelids fluttering the few times it's able to deliciously spread your pussy lips just the slightest through your clothes. "I'm so wet — "

"The more of a mess you leave on my pants, the longer I'll have to edge you while waiting for them to dry." Joshua grins cockily at you trying to force your hips to stop themselves only to struggle pathetically in vain. "Think you'd like that. Haven't even gotten to fuck this hot little cunt yet and I'm already certain I wouldn't mind being buried in there for hours. But don't know if your friends will stick around for that long…"

"J-Josh, ah — Shua… mhm!"

"So I think you'd better behave if you know what's good for you," he stills your hips hard, "fuckin' slut."

You mewl at the hard, rude thrust that bumps your clit as if he was actually fucking you. Like goo, you let him manhandle you around so you're bent over and facing the smudged mirror, hands gripping tightly to each side of the sink basin. Aided by the reflections, you witness how he shamelessly ogles the tempting ass that's been rubbing all over him all night. And of course that means you have to perk up and wiggle your hips, giving him quite a show.

The small distance between you clears the lust cloud and you throw a smoldering glance over your shoulder. "If you fuck me with my heels on, I'll give you a chance with them off."

Joshua swats your ass — not very hard but you release a yelp of surprise. "Wasn't aware that you were running the show, sweetheart."

"It's my backside you're looking at."

"Knew you were mouthy the minute I saw you. You're aware of how kind I am, so let me give you a choice." He's anything but kind as he sighs and leans his weight over top of you. Despite the bracing strength of his arms, you feel suffocated by just being caged in between them and the overpowering scent of his cologne. "I shut you up with either my fingers in your mouth or around your throat."

Oh… decisions, decisions! Long fingers that would surely feel best deep inside your pussy but that wasn't one of the options. You purse your lips in thought and arch up, balancing the heavy cock supported by your ass and unconsciously pouting. Joshua has the audacity to look at the time while brushing back his hair and clicks his tongue.

"Wow, I'm letting you choose between sucking on my fingers like a slut or being choked like a whore and you still can't decide? What a high maintenance toy."

The urge to scoff is extremely strong. "Sucking it is then, Doctor Hong," you say sweetly and then add with a sneer, "like the perfect slut that I truly am."

"When your friends all said you were nothing but a gentle soul, I knew they were duped. Only one was partially truthful in saying you could be sassy which doesn't even come close. Little do they know there's a bratty cockwhore with quite a bite underneath all that charm."

"Haven't fucked any of them, that's why. No plans to either."

"Yeah, what was it you like — oh right, good boys?" He laughs — low, mean, and degrading. "Then what am I, sweetheart?"

"A doctor who's full of himself and needs taken down a few, ha, pegs."

"Ah, there it is." Joshua undoes the final button, slipping a curious finger beneath the bra's front hook pulling your tits together. You shiver when it snaps against your skin after he retracts, pointer finger tracing a lazy line up your throat to its final destination. "The attitude."

You willingly part your lips, lolling your tongue out mischievously to match the roll of your eyes. "Someone gets off on it."

"Is that so?" He smears the lipgloss on your lower lip by pulling it down before releasing it. "Do you think this is all a coincidence, darling?" Meeting the hardened gaze in the mirror, you shake your head. "The minute I saw such a sparkling gem on Wonwoo's story, I just had to have it for myself."

It's not hard to guess what he's referring to. A couple weeks ago, you wore enough scraps of fabric to just cover your nipples and the areas between your legs. Drinking far too much and hanging off of the WonGyu duo's broad frames while the whole gang partied it up together at Vernon's. You had even asked them to send you the videos and pictures after because damn, you did look hot as fuck.

Who knew it would be bait for an entitled pretty boy?

"At least you waited to find me when I wasn't drunk."

"Much more fun to break someone sober."

"Glad to know consensual exists in your vocabulary."

"How about it — will you let me destroy this little pussy of yours and ruin it to keep you crawling back to me for more?"

"Sure, if you ever stop talking and actually do something — "

Joshua's quick to shut you up, almost cracking your jaw with the harsh thumb that's jammed in the corner of your mouth to prop it open. The following two fingers are thrust cruelly inside as a replacement so it can move to keep your chin steady. They're able to reach so far when pinning down your tongue, ending up wedged near the back of your throat so you're already gagging around them.

"Most sluts behave the second I drop the nice guy act. But boy oh boy, it only makes you act up more, eh?"

He finally does away with your bra to allow those gorgeous tits to spill out and casually rips the garment from your body like it's personally offended him. Maybe it has. Shoving it away into his back pocket and then urgently tugging your jeans down. The binding position you're left in helps keep your shaky legs in place while you cling to the sink like it's a lifeline. Upper body supported only by the cruel hold he has on your face until he yanks it back so you're flush against him instead, the cool baby-blue silk of his shirt set ablaze by your shared body heat.

"Next time, wear something that has easier access. Or better yet… maybe nothing at all or I'll be forced to rip it off." A piercing set of eyes attempt to glare into yours that roll back delightfully despite what's likely some snark ends up sounding all jumbled. "Oh yes, there will be a next time, sweetheart. I have to train this cunt to yearn for my cock — and you don't think you'll get it that easily, right?"

Joshua chuckles darkly knowing you can't reply. But liking to be full of surprises, you relax your upper jaw while his fingers trail across your pelvis and close your lips around the ones in your mouth. Suckling and swirling once the tension in them relaxes despite the naughty thought of biting. That doesn't eliminate the occasional graze of your teeth as a threat, responding to his words in your own way.

"Just look at yourself, slobbering all over… bet you suck cock like a champ. And prolly like it real messy. How well-trained you'd look trying to balance on these pointed heels while I fuck that bratty mouth."

You moan at the visual he's painted in your head.

"That's right, darling." There's a mean pinch to your clit followed by the man's groan at the ruined fabric squelching between his fingertips and how the covered little nub was already begging for friction. "Now tell me how long your cunt's been warming up and soaking these drenched panties?"

"Since the beginning…" you admit once he's freed your sore mouth and chooses to bully your breasts next. "When you looked at me."

He snickers, pushing your underwear to the side and petting at the bare slippery folds. Just able to barely see a small glimpse of where his actions play with your lower body in the mirror. At least your expressions make up for what he misses seeing.

"Aw, this soft pussy started drooling the minute I laid eyes on you? While I was imagining all the things I could do to these tits," the hand on one of them palms at the rounded flesh hard. "This ass," his pelvis grinds in a slow circle against it. "Mhm, and of course, this hidden gem."

At that, a thumb brutally rubs at your clit while plunging a finger inside the warm, wet walls that eagerly pulse around it. You weren't wrong about how good the digit would feel inside, the length and stretch of its bony knuckle feeling good enough to substitute as a mini-dick when Joshua starts a slow and methodical pace with it.

"Thought about having you spread out in the backseat of my Bugatti La Voiture Noire, you'd look like a vision laying across its leather seats. And the best thing? No one can see inside so you'll get your much desired privacy while being right out in the open."

Then he's adding another finger, longer than the first. And finally one more with an additional push in and out of the others. Clearly his experience on how to work a pussy is more than helpful. Alternating between stuffing your hole full of all three or changing up the pace and number each turn.

And of course, your chest is attended to as well. Both nipples tugged in iterations to match the rhythm of each finger spearing into your cunt, the pendant of your necklace bouncing in time. Without fail, he hits the bundle of nerves with a deadly precision that has you going slack against him.

"Maybe we should do that 'cause," he mumbles in your ear, "this filthy hole is awfully good at convincing me to spoil its owner like no one else. Let's see if it can tell me how much it'll want me to fill it up one day."

Your ears ring with the devastating screams of white noise at the sudden stop. The moans you were letting out trail off into a dissatisfied growl. His hand falls away from your upper body while the one in between your legs merely sits nice and snug, still inside but not moving. Far too relaxed, limp even.

"Joshua!"

"C'mon, weren't you listening? Convince me."

"Fuck you," is what you spit out, glaring at the challenging and impossibly smug reflection of the menace behind you.

"You didn't say fuck off, so… I'm waiting."

Another check at his watch like he's bored infuriates you enough to move your hips. Whining at how his fingers fail to stiffen and only follow your pitiful motions back and forth. Out of protest, you reach behind and take a harsh hold of the hard length you're able to grab.

"Watch it, darling!" Joshua flinches and the way his cock twitches dulls the venomous words that come next. "Or I'll leave you here all needy and by yourself, waiting for some other pathetic dick to hop onto in order to satiate just a little bit of this wet and slutty pussy's behaviors."

Well, that idea doesn't appeal to you whatsoever so you lean on the sink with a huff to do what needs done. It's a struggle to stay balanced on your heels while grabbing at his wrist but a small part of you knows he won't let you fall, a bicep supporting under your breasts. Revenge comes sweetly by digging your nails into the tense muscle of his forearm and leaving scratch marks that have him hissing.

And now you know for sure — despite the doctor's incredibly huge ego and big talk, Joshua Hong's no better than a painslut.

"Hah," you breathe out and start to slowly rock your hips. "Disrespectfully, go to hell."

Ignoring the abrasive insult — because he's a demon anyways — Joshua focuses on the wet suctioning sound growing louder the faster you move. The feeling of your tits and necklace hitting his arm to the beat of your hip bounces and enjoying the view of how his fingers disappear beyond the jiggle of your asscheeks. Up into the tight heat of velvety walls as you force his hand to behave and serve your needs like one of your dildos, though they've never been this uncooperative.

"That's it. Yeah, there we go… just like that. Go ahead and make yourself cum riding my fingers, beautiful. Uh-huh, now who's using me like a little whore to get off?"

You're already losing yourself. Waiting for that rising wave to crest because despite his annoying mouth, Joshua's fingers are more than skilled enough to hurl you into a delightful climax. As long as nothing interrupts it.

"Answer me — or I'll make you choke yourself."

"Mhm…"

He likes seeing how your face contorts, moans getting louder. It's too addicting which is why he growls out, "Do it."

It's a feat to let go of the sink but the reward is to move his arm around your bra-line to your throat, making his hand envelope it. The visual in the mirror is depraved — limbs all wrapped and tangled with each other — and your half-closed eyes taunt the searing gaze in the mirror, repeating his words right back.

"Why not do it yourself, Doctor?"

"Are you some sort of succubus or what?" He spits out the question like it's the germs on the toilet seat next to you. Freeing himself momentarily from the grip of your hand and your cunt, the man's at least nice enough to assuage the pissed off whine with a consoling lick up your neck and tugs impatiently at your pants. "Take these off."

"Go fuck yourself," you mutter darkly with half the mind to walk out of there. But you do as he says, quickly shimmying them off while your clit buzzes and twitches angrily at the neglect of stimulation again.

Joshua's eyes don't look away, his hands steadying your hips and your pussy aching when you hear how he slowly slurps on his fingers to clean them. Once you step back into your heels, he throws the jeans over his shoulder.

"Careful with the phone," you threaten.

Joshua snorts and bends over to secure a strap for you — sucking harshly on the skin of your thigh as a "you're welcome" but pulling away before your hands can tangle in his hair and keep him down there.

"Wrong thing to say to someone who likes broken and expensive things. Shouldn't you be warning me not to break something else?" Suddenly, your other shoe dangles precariously off your foot when he uses a strong hand to lift and support your leg onto the sink's surface. "Like this poor pussy?"

The straining burn in your muscles and the added chill of the porcelain is all alleviated by harsh rubbing at the tender skin of your entrance. Middle and pointer finger eagerly prying sloppy pussy lips apart once again.

"Ah, but I might enjoy that."

A clear glob of arousal drips from your hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. Joshua leers hungrily past your shoulder at the mirror's erotic display of your exposed cunt and the wetness shining under the buzz of the bathroom's fluorescent lights.

"Dirty and yet it's such a pretty little jewel. Sparkling and glistening so, so lovely that I can't wait to watch it shatter while playing with it."

Finally, all three fingers from before work in tandem to scissor repeatedly inside of your tight warmth without forgiveness. This time, the devil has nothing but good intentions to send you over the peak of pleasure. His eyes can't stop feasting on the raunchy way your greedy hole gobbles up his fingers. The loud squelches accompanying his motions echo around the small enclosed space, mixing with the warm breath hitting the side of his cheek from your gasping moans.

Joshua thinks it's mighty cute how puffy your outer pussy lips grow and struggle to spread around the thick and long digits shoved inside plus the onslaught of his thumb bullying your clit. The angle shows the slightest bulge of them relentlessly stroking the bundle of nerves that has your leg twitching from the sheer pleasure.

He focuses on bringing you there, all on what you're feeling rather than his own pleasure because you have the most convincing cunt ever that deserves to be ravaged by a large, girthy cock. A shame it has to wait because he cannot give in so easily. But you're definitely a piece of work. Joshua likes that.

"Gonna keep making a mess on my fingers, darling? Leave 'em all sweet and wet enough for me to wrap around my dick later and pretend it's your pussy instead."

You'll be the death of him when your head rolls into the crease of his neck, drool dampening the skin as you mouth senselessly at the vein protruding beneath. There's a sharp sting — the certain kind he hasn't felt in a very long time. A telltale warning of a hickey, the beautiful colors of red and purple already rushing to the surface and decorated by little nips of your teeth after you soothe the pain with your tongue.

No one marks up Joshua Hong. Sure, he's had lipstick stains before but those can easily be swiped off with a handkerchief and washed away in the shower. He can't help but smirk though, knowing when he eventually wipes your sticky lipgloss off, something of you will remain for a bit.

However you can't go without a little punishment. If you can even call it that when he returns to wrapping a hand around your throat. Anyone else who dared to leave a mark would be walked away from. But you — you simply lose enough oxygen causing your head to spin more pleasantly than it already is.

And you claw at his forearm, scratching it up ten times more to serve as a further reminder for Joshua to look at. You're by no means urging him to stop but to earnestly keep going while simultaneously searching for something — anything — to anchor you down as you float into an almost unconscious state of pure ecstasy.

It's by far the strongest, most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced. Becoming nothing but a bag of bones in his arms as your walls pulsate around his fingers and the fruitful expenditure of your release drips down his wrist.

He stays in that position, unable to move anyways with the vice-like grip of your spasming cunt cramping his fingers. Instead, drawing out the pleasure as much as possible by squeezing and releasing the pressure on your throat over and over again. The true picture of debauchery — heaven and sin mixed in one — and he kind of wishes for a third arm to take a photo for a keepsake.

Everything in your body aches deliciously. You feel both refreshed and exhausted when you finally come to and even then Joshua supports your weak body as you try to regain control over your wits and whereabouts.

"Pants," you croak out and wave him off when he tries to gentlemanly assist. Which he still kind of has to when you almost topple face-first on legs that feel like jelly. "Bra."

Joshua's a little less enthusiastic to hand that over, bitter sarcasm lacing his words. "Wow, won't even grant me a souvenir?"

"Boo-hoo," you gripe back and pretend not to notice the eyes glued to the way your tits bounce when adjusting the garment around them. Turning to look in the mirror, you work on dulling the "just got fingered in the bathroom" appearance. "It's not like you need one and it seems even less likely you'll keep anything from a stranger, especially lingerie."

"Hm, I like how well you read me."

"Of course you do, fuels that large privileged ego. Don't get used to it. But, want me to do something about that one though?"

He coughs at the rather suggestive insult, shifting his pants and shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the messy boner you're referencing. "Guess I did a great job if you're begging for it already."

"Oh, for goodness sake I'm being courteous."

"Cute."

Joshua admits it almost like he's startled by the words that escape his mouth. Further surprising both of you with a clumsy, sloppy kiss to the cheek when he leans over to fasten the top button of your blouse. As if embarrassed, he's already halfway out the door when he remembers to mention, "I'll be thinking of you darling, look forward to your call!"

You're left staring at the saliva spot reflected on your cheek in shock. And then, you wipe it off with the rest of the accumulated sweat to make yourself a bit more presentable and then head back to the club as naturally as possible.

Dr. Hong is seemingly nowhere in sight as expected. You figure it would be hard to return with a raging boner despite the low lighting and he probably left through the back exit to likely jerk off in his ridiculously expensive car. The visual of white ropes of cum streaming past the steel band of the Royal Oak around his wrist haunts your mind, making your aching core buzz to life again and your sticky panties even grosser.

Out of pure spite, you hope he stains his shirt too.

Luckily, Seungkwan is still at the bar when you wobble over in search of him. He shouts your name in mock shock, assessing your appearance with pursed lips and eyeballing your figure dubiously.

"You look like hell."

"Yeah?" you laugh it off as nonchalantly as possible, unaware of the phone in your back pocket lighting up with a returned text message from a newly saved number and a scandalous picture attached. "I just got back."

onlyseokmins: July 2023 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #joshua hong smut #joshua smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #smut #hong joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #if this flops so does the hong schlong #i fist fought this joshua in the parking lot and WON #svt.smut

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meo-eiru · 5 days

Note

Hihihiii :3 Hope you're having a great day author!

This is my first direct interaction in this website generally speaking, so what better way to start than rambling my head off about the twink slutty baby? YES. Lavi. That cute whore that's been on my mine for a good while now...I want to kiss him, want him to cuddle me so bad grrrr I want to rim his pretty ass and use it as my only life source for the rest of my mortal existence. I want to follow every single one of his instructions on how to please him while he guides me with that shit eating smug grin '>:3'. I totally see him as a power bottom, riding my strap effortlessly while he pins me down telling me how much of a pathetic virgin I am and how fortunate I am to even be touching him, how lucky I am that he's willing to teach me how to make him feel good, how he'd laugh once I'm exhausted and he keeps nonchalantly bouncing still with his endless incubi stamina...MMMM...But also, I want to hit his ribs each time he throws an annoying tauntrum, or make him whimper each time he breaks something expensive, I want to sneak into his phone and watch just all the dozens of porn he has in his gallery along with his search history, I need to make him cry so hard until we're both doubting who's the real pervert here...I NEED to peg him. I NEED to spank his cute jiggling ass until it's red and sore. I need to make him deepthroath my strap and perhaps give me head. I NEED to grope his cute small chest and nurse on his rosy nipples while he tries to make a teasing remark only to be interrupted by his own lewd moans. I NEED to watch how all that lube and cum slowly leaks out of his puffy hole with profane sounds while spreading his supple asscheeks further apart as he whines and mewls begging for more. I NEED to cuddle him from behind while I finger his thight whorish asshole, I NEEEED to give him some genuine, gentle love-making while kissing his pretty face and cooing sweet nothings into his ears while he grabs onto my neck thightly saying shamelessly how good it feels.

I want to give him goodnight kisses on the forehead, cheeks, nose, eyes, tummy and finally his soft lips. I want to feel him clinging onto me with his limbs (and tail of course) while we sleep, even better if he craddles my head on his chest. I might even forgive his murders if he promises to be a good boy with a pretty pout even though he'd probably be crossing his fingers behind his back. I want to do each other's hair and nails. I want him to listen to the music I listen to (Rabbit Hole by DECO27 would be SO him). I want to see his deadpaned and disdainful face when I tell him all my bad jokes. I want to go out with him at those aesthetic cafés and buy him everything he wants even if I won't be able to buy anything else for a while. I want us to get matching couple cheesy things. I want us to do lovey dovey stuff together and maybe a kiss that doesn't end up looking out of a hentai. A wholesome one. I want him to live on my lap. I want him to try make him wear decente clothes from time to time. I want to see his reaction once my mortal life comes to an end. (If he cries and gets depressed he'll look so pretty but if he laughs he'll also look so pretty). I want to show him off to my friends even if I know he's probably the type that types 'uwu', ':3' or 'nya~' either satirically or not. I would bear the cringe for him. I want to send him memes and reels and, overall, just hear his laugh because I'm sure it would be gorgeous just like him. <3

He literally lives rent free in my mind this is a call for help. I crave for more Lavi content.

I'm not horny. You are.

Anyway, thanks for the constant posting! I love how you write your characters and draw/paint! You're one of my favorite artists. Eat well and have a good day/night. :)

Oh my dear GOD this was a ROLLER COASTER

I don't even know where to start. Alright so first of all, this is so deliciously written omg??? You made me put Lavi on a plate and eat him I bet he'd taste like cake. The contrast between the wholesome parts and the extremely unholy parts were crazy I felt like I was in a car that randomly speeds up and down

Rabbit hole is indeed very Lavi, the animation fits him so well as well. If I knew how to make them I'd definitely draw a Lavi version. And yes he's definitely the type who'd type "uwu" and ">:3" unironically

THE DRAWINGS ARE SO CUTE AS WELL!! HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE LOOK AT HIS CUTE LITTLE FACE AND CUTE BUTT

#asks #lavi #yandere incubus #fanart

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Single parent struggles : father!Dick Grayson x mother!reader

THAT!!! PICTURE!!!!!

summary/request: single Father Dick Grayson x single Mother reader? Where at some kids birthday party also can the kids be between the ages of like 3 and 4.

A/N: writing this was just so cute and heartwarming and pleasant and fluffy. I think this is going to be my new verse, so if anyone ever get any ideas in that - please ask me to write more UwU <3

***

„Thomas, please stop running around!” Y/N laughed happily when her 4 year old son slipped on the floor and run into her legs. She was quick enough to catch him, before he actually landed on his bottom and started crying.

“Sorry mum!” he grinned with the cutest smile there was, and not paying much attention to his mother’s admonishment regained his balance and followed the friends that he was chasing. “Wait for me!” he yelled before disappearing.

Her son was invited to a birthday party of his kindergarten friend, and obviously, she happened to be a tag along. Helping with the service and acting as a supervisor. Not that she complained. Being a single parent was rewarding, but also happened to be her bread and butter and she didn’t have many occasion to go out the house and spend time with actual adult outside of work. Sure, she loved Thomas with all her heart and never regretted the decision of having him, even when his failure of a father took off running the second he found out about the pregnancy, but sometimes she was just tired. And having an opportunity to hang out and relax and watch her son being so happy around other kids were simply heartwarming. Thomas shed too many tears and experienced sadness asking about the other parent and Y/N swore, that to the maximum of her abilities, she would protect him from that pain.

“God….” she muttered to herself, gathering the fruit bowl from the counter. “I swear the kids never get tired……” her son’s energy was exhausting, but the serene expression in her eyes were showing the truth feelings behind the sigh. Lost in her own thoughts Y/N turned around not noticing the man standing right behind her, bumping straight into the sculpted chest, immediately being caught by two strong arms, the bowl serving as some sort of airbag.

“I know, right?” the man let out a laugh still holding onto her “I’m dealing with the same problem with my daughter. Don’t know who said that girls are quieter and more polite than boys but it does not apply in this case.”

“Hello Richard.” Y/N tilted her head “didn’t see you around for a while.”

Richard Grayson, more often than not called “Dick” was the treat for all the mothers. Handsome, well-build, kind with charming, boyish attitude and most importantly, single father. Rumor has it that the mother had some mental problems and one day escaped the hospital where she and the daughter were getting some treatment and observation, took the kid and left it on the threshold of Dick’s house before disappearing herself. Despite Dick’s attempt to locate her (and boy, that man definitely had the resources, being the son of the Bruce Wayne) he never succeeded, giving up after some time.

And that gave the soccer mothers plenty of opportunities to get him involved in all possible kids’ activities. Kindergarten play? Picnic? Cinema sally? Birthday party? He was pretty much everywhere. Much to all the husbands’ displeasure.

But, since both he and Y/N were the only single parent and the subjects of many rumors that gave them the opportunity to get close and become really good friends. After all, there’s no one better to understand the struggles of raising a kid alone.

“Yeah….” He scratched his head awkwardly, letting go of her arm “I’ve been running after Abby, making sure she does not get in any troubles. But it seems like the fire is fought for a moment and I can finally catch a breath. “

“Really?” Y/N mocked putting the bowl away, crossing arms over her chest “guess the apple does not fall far from the tree, right? Abby takes a lot after you.”

“Are you calling me a troublemaker?” Dick caught his chest and his eyes widened in a fake shock. “Me?”

“Yes.” She teased “Aren’t you?”

“Maybe a bit” he muttered taking a step forward. This made Y/N take a step back and in no time she was trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. “But there’s one more thing me and Abby have in common.”

“And what may that be, Mr. Grayson?” she raised an eyebrow, observing his face carefully and impatiently awaiting the answer.

“We both happen to like the member of the l/n family.” He smirked, grabbing her waist and pulling her towards him closing the distance between them. Her hands found a way towards his neck, locking around it and bringing his lips down for a kiss. It’s been a while since they had any opportunity to be alone, and they were not going to miss it. Even if that meant making out in a messy kitchen in someone else’s house, hiding from their kids. They were acting like teenagers, sneaking around and trying to keep their relationship a secret. And despite the fact that they were both adults this courtship was gentle, careful, soft. They have been hurt before and the cautiousness was making them both take it slow.

But obviously it didn’t mean that there was no passion between them when Dick grabbed onto her tighter, wanting her closer, his hands travelling around her back, sneaking under her shirt, craving to feel her skin, but still keeping the slow, loving pace.

“Behave….” She mumbled into the kiss, but not really stopping him. “Someone can see us…..”

“Oh, please…” he fought the urge to roll his eyes, moving to brush her cheek, jaw and neck in the teasing attempt to make her whine for him “you can’t keep your hands to yourself either.” The bastard was right since her fingers were playing with his hair, pulling lightly.

“I can stop….” She started withdrawing her hands but he was quick to grab her wrist keeping it in place.

“Don’t.” his soft whispers and touches were literally making her melt. “I missed you, Y/n. I missed this…. us……” God, how she loved his attention, even when he pulled back and stopped kissing her, instead looking her straight in the eyes. “I .... wish to have more of you just for myself…..”

“I know. I feel the same.” She smiled and her eyes glistened. Before she met him, after Thomas’s father left, she didn’t believe she could find love again. But life can be surprising and even if they haven’t really said the L word to each other,now she was trapped in the arms of a man who did love her with the undying passion and with whom she felt save and taken care of us as never before. And every time they stole a kiss or a secret touch or just talked or spent time together she felt like crying because of that warm feeling inside her chest and belly. This time was no different as few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Crying again?” Dick cupped her face, brushing those drops away with his thumb “don’t cry on my account princess.” He brushed his nose over hers, forehead meeting forehead, eyes closing, breathing each other in.

“How can I not?” she sighed deeply, unable to hold back everything he was making her feel. “Dick, I….”

“I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead, rocking her gently to the sound of music coming from the garden causing her to smile again.

He knew.

He knew the heartbreak, the pain, the unanswered question why. He’s been through it all. And it was not his intention to play around with Y/n’s emotions and feelings or to hurt her. Ever. Not with everything she’s been through.

“I’m not like him…..” he whispered, almost inaudibly and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.

“How long do you think since one of the mums start looking for you to move the chairs or ask for another stupid favor?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Are you jealous?”

“And what if I am?” she twirled a strand of hair on her finger, eyes fixed on his.

“Well, than I’m flattered, but you have no reason for that, baby.” His hands intertwined with hers, caressing tenderly “I lo…..” he almost said it. Almost.

“Daddy?” a quiet, girl’s voice cut him off and it took massive amount of energy to muffle the annoyed groan. Of course it was kids who interrupted him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he pulled back

“I cut my finger….” Abby pouted, her gaze switching between her father and Y/N. “what are you doing?”

“We were just getting some fruits for you.” the older girl smiled “I’m gonna go and let your father take care of you, little one. See you around, Richard.” She moved away from him and with one final lingering secret brush of hands left him, still aching for her, not able to ever get enough of her presence.

“Daddy?” Abby asked again once Y/N was out of sight.

“Yes?”

“Do you like Thomas’s mum?”

“Do you?”

“She’s nice and pretty. And gives the best hugs. “ the girl frowned, thinking deeply “so yes, I think I like her.”

“That’s good to know.” Dick smiled pecking the top of Abby’s head. He was not going to let this woman out of his life and his daughter’s acceptance was very important for the future purposes.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fluff #dc fluff #father!dick grayson #dick grayson x mum!reader

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ray-ray-writings · 3 months

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My Cinderella AU with Schlatt

Welp... Who would have thought that Schlatt would be the one out of all of the MCYTs to NOT be outed as an abuser....

Anywho, I watched the Cinderella movie with Camila Cabello and instantly wanted to write an AU of my own of Cinderella but I didn't want to put in the work to create my own new characters and establish them and all of that fun stuff. So I did what I do best, toss already established characters into a storyline. What a weird piece of work to post on my blog after several years...

But here you go, 16.3k words of a Cinderella AU with reader as Cinderella and Schlatt as Prince Charming. If you read, I appreciate you. Consider leaving a like, comment, and/or reblog and tell me whatcha liked about it. No pressure tho <3.

Summary: A Cinderella AU in which reader is a baker and Schlatt is a Prince. the two meet in a market square where the reader in turns insults Schlatt to his face without realizing who they're talking to and the story of the relationship that then ensues.

Pairing: JSchlatt x Gender Neutral!Reader (I tried to keep in gender neutral but I may have slipped here and there, if you notice any parts that happens let me know and I'll fix it!

Mostly fluff with a touch of angst

Content Warnings: all warnings that typically come with cinderella: ie dead parents, shitty step family, reader being told she doesn't deserve good things, the word papi... like twice... you'll see. The use of "Jonathon" being Schlatt's "real" first name, Swearing, second person POV, when the text is in italics it's as if it's following Schlatt in third POV, i hope that makes sense, shitty writing at the end because I still haven't figured out how to end stories uwu.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Once Upon a Time,

You lived with your stepmother and two stepsisters. Your mother died when you were young. She died after being thrown from a horse, hitting her head off the ground, and never waking up.

Your father had remarried within a year, but had swore to never love again. He married simply because he knew he was sick and didn’t want to die and leave you alone if he were to die when you were a minor. Sure enough, he passed when you were 15.

One thing your parents had gifted you before their passing is your love for baking. You could bake like nobody’s business. You had tried to get a job at the bakery when you had come of age but the baker didn’t appreciate your helpful tips on what to improve on and what would make his baked goods taste better. So you just bake and hang out in the square, selling to those that know you and know of your business.

You did your best to spend most of your time out of your home as your stepfamily was not kind to you. They teased and taunted you and made your life hell. You would have left the moment you were of age, but you had nowhere else to go. This was your family’s home, you didn’t make enough money baking on the side to justify moving out. So you were just waiting to meet someone who would sweep you off your feet and carry you away from here.

It’s not ideal, but that is the way that life is.

Across the land, Prince Schlatt was born and raised in the castle. He was waited on hand foot, life served to him on a silver platter. But the boy grew to a man with a kind heart, even if it tended to hide behind sarcasm and taunts. His father, King Philza, had done his best to teach Schlatt how to be a great ruler while his mother, Queen Kristen, had done her best to teach him how to be a loving man.

Schlatt loves his parents, but sometimes wanted to be his own man without his parent’s hovering over his shoulder telling him who to be. To be who he wanted to be, without the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders.

King Philza has been harping on him for rejecting so many marriage proposals, lecturing him on how important it was for him to find a suitable match before his coronation so that everything was in order before it was time for him to take over the throne.

Schlatt has always given the same response, “I don’t to marry just anyone. I want to marry for love, father, just like you.”

Philza would roll his eyes but say nothing more on the subject until the next day. Kristen was always proud of the way her son would respond, but never interrupted the two. The supportive smile she always sent Schlatt as he left was incredibly telling though.

One of the only good things about your stepfamily was that they stayed out of the kitchen. Your stepmother learned quickly about how well you could cook and bake from how you always made meals for your father that she never felt the need to cook herself. Instead, she found it easier to boss you around and force you to cook for her and her daughters.

You found you didn’t mind it though, the kitchen was your happy place. It was one of the only spaces where you knew that you wouldn’t be bothered, that for a moment while you rolled out dough or poured some batter you could pretend like everything in your life was perfect.

You needed more ingredients. For baking and for dinners. You had left the house with the small amount of money that your stepmother had given you and made your way to the market square. In your basket, a number of sweet treats to sell for your pocket cash to your normal customers after you run your errands.

The sun feels nice on your face. You’re used to heat pressing into the as you stand over a hot stove or an open oven, so the sunlight shining on you makes you feel slightly at home. Comfortable even. Maybe a bit too comfortable and unaware of your surroundings because it’s not too long while you’re lost in thought before you slam into someone. The basket flies out of your hand and tumbles to the ground, several of the treats falling to the ground.

You let out a gasp as you fall onto your butt on the ground. The man you have bumped into lets out a quiet “oh shit,” before reaching down and picking up some of the treats that have fallen out.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand for you to take. You carefully take his hand, allowing your eyes to scan the stranger. The first thing that you notice is his eyes. They’re fucking beautiful. The pools of dark chestnut brown bore into yours so deeply it momentarily takes your breath away. You’re able to see the way they fill with concern all the while they flick down and examine you, if you were of more a mind, you would blush.

The next thing you notice is the mask that covers the lower half of his face. You stop your brows from furrowing at the sight. You continue to observe him. You note the way that his brown hair is pulled back, which is what allowed you to see his eyes so strikingly before. His clothes are a bit on the fancier side of those that come to the market. He’s strong too, you can tell by the way he pulls you up from the ground with no real effort exerted. His hands are on the softer side. He feels familiar but you can’t place where you know him.

Oh fuck. You’re the prettiest person Schaltt has ever seen. He’s been introduced to countless nobles, never ending royalty, long lines of commoners, but none of them could compare to how absolutely stunning you look right now. And he’s just made a huge ass full of himself by running into you and sending some of your baked goods AND you flying to the ground. At least he was smart enough to wear a mask to hide his face and therefore his identity. He knows his facial hair is incredibly recognizable. Even if he wasn’t presenting as the crowned prince, he better make this right.

“It’s alright,” you respond once you’ve shaken yourself out of your stupor, reaching for your basket. He quickly hands it back to you. You do a quick inventory and note that about a third of your stock had fallen to the ground. “Great, just great,” you murmur quietly to yourself.

“Again, I’m so sorry about that… let me replace what you’ve lost. Allow me to walk you to the bakery so you can buy more.” The stranger says, motioning toward the bakery, his eyes never leaving yours.

The laugh you let out causes the man’s shoulders to deflate, causing you to clear your throat and instantly start explaining. “No, no, sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Rather laughing at the thought of me buying anything from that fucking guy.”

His brows furrow as he looks at the pastries. “You didn’t get them from the baker? Where did you get them from then?”

“I made them myself.” You answer simply, giving a small shrug. “The baker didn’t want to hire me and so I bake them at my house and sell them on the square to a few people.”

His brows hit the top of his forehead. “Oh shit, really? I guess I just made you lose income then, huh? Let me pay for them then.”

“Oh, no really it’s okay. It was an accident. Don’t worry about it.”

“No really. I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do.” He states before digging into his pockets and pulling out 5 gold pieces and pressing them into your hand.

You stare at the gold in shock. “Sir, I can’t accept this. I only charge 2 copper for one cookie. This is far too much, please take it back.”

Schaltt panics. It’s been forever since he’s had an economics class and he isn’t sure how much money is a lot of money to common folk. He realizes 5 gold is probably a bit too much, especially after you tell him of what you usually charge. It’s too late to back out now.

“Nah,” he answers. “I guess it just means you have to give me the rest that’s in the basket.”

Without hesitation, you hold the basket out for him to take. He’s surprised by your quick movement but carefully takes the basket from your hands. He grabs the cloth that covers the basket gently and carefully pulls it back, revealing a plethora of baked goods, the sight makes his mouth water. “Woah, these look professionally made.”

You let out a huff and puff out your chest a bit more. “Well I am a professional. And they would look better, but someone caused the basket to hit the ground.”

His laugh may be the most beautiful thing you have ever heard. It makes your heart flutter and you have to will the heat to not flood your cheeks. “I apologized for that already,” He teases.

“Yeah well, it still happened didn’t it,” you shoot back.

He laughs again, which surprises you. Most people would have called you rude by now and left you to stand here alone. But not this strange stranger. You don’t mind his presence though. “You’re funny…” He trails off

You realize he’s waiting for your name and you supply it to him. He echos it back, stating it slowly as if to savor every syllable, to test how it feels on his tongue and his teeth before he hums. “I’m charmed to meet your acquaintance,” He states, reaching out grabbing your hand, bending at the waist, and pressing the back of your hand to his masked lips. It takes everything in you to will the blood to NOT rush to your cheeks.

He drops your hand before straightening up. “Now if you don’t mind, I will be trying one of these delectable looking desserts.”

He reaches into the basket and pulls out a chocolate chocolate-chip cookie. “Oh fuck yes. These are my fucking favorite.”

You can’t stop the grin and giggle that escapes you.

The stranger turns from you and for a moment your heart falls and your stomach turns as you think that he’s walking away from you. But you’re able to see his hand move up to the lower half of his face and you realize he’s pulling his mask down in order to eat. You quickly look away to give the man his privacy. You may be curious as to what he looks like, but you value respecting his choices above all else.

Holy fuck it’s one of the tastiest things he’s ever eaten. His eyes close as he groans at the taste that fills his mouth. He’s glad he had the sense to turn around and his face and expression from you. He couldn’t imagine how embarrassing he looks right now.

You hear him let out a groan of approval and you can only assume that something has hit his tongue. “This is delicious.” Your assumptions are confirmed as his voice comes out muffled from the food in his mouth.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” you chide, looking at the bustling people of the market stalls.

Schlatt chuckles, pulling the mask back up and turning back to face you. He’s stunned for a moment to not meet your eyes. Realizing why you’re angled and looking the way that you are. His own heart skips a beat before he clears his throat. He takes a moment to chew and swallow before softly letting you know you’re good to look.

You’re slightly disappointed to find the mask still in its place but you understand the want for privacy perhaps more than most. “So it was good then?” You ask.

He nods enthusiastically. “It was fucking amazing. I can’t wait to get back to the castle and try the rest of them.” He says, realizing a moment too late his slip.

Your brows hit the top of your forehead, “The castle? Do you live in the castle?” You can’t stop the question that falls from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m a guard. I live in the castle, and I’m a guard. Today’s my day off.” He explains. His words are rushed, but who are you to question a man you just met.

You give a couple nods, “I see,” you state simply, “That makes sense.”

Internally Schlatt lets out a loud breath of relief that you bought the lie. The castle has been his home his entire life and he wasn’t thinking when he spoke so he’s glad you easily bought his excuse of being a guard.

“It makes sense considering you just handed me 5 gold like it’s not more than I will make in two months and King Philza makes sure that the guards get paid an excellent salary… not that he makes sure the rest of the citizens get paid the same. But that’s neither here nor there.” You huff.

The stranger’s brows lift. “What do you mean by that?”

Your face burns as you catch what you just admitted. “Oh nothing.” You rush. “Sorry you probably are more than happy with the decisions the king makes. Not to imply anything. Sorry.”

“No, no it’s alright. I want to hear it.”

And want to hear it, he does. No one has the guts to speak so plainly to him when they’re around him. So he wants to hear it. The good, the bad and the ugly.

You clear your throat and square your shoulders. “Well if you insist. Often it feels like the king, the whole royal family really, doesn’t care about those that do not live in the castle. I can’t get a job because no one can afford to hire anyone because everyone is just barely scraping by. It’s like he can’t see past his own front lawn. Which sucks because everyone talks about what a great guy he is, but sometimes I don’t think he’s a very good king.”

Schlatt hums in acknowledgement. You bring up some really good points. He also sometimes feels like his father forgets he’s supposed to be ruling for the people and isn’t supposed to be ruling his son’s life… speaking of. “Well I’m sure you can’t wait for his son to take over the throne then? Schlatt?” He is instantly startled by the loud laughter that bubbles from your throat.

“Schlatt? That big, petty, man-baby? Yeah. Sure. I’m excited to see how that big man-baby decides to rule the kingdom. You know, I heard that he grew those mutton chops to make himself more unattractive to potential suitors. I think he didn’t realize how fucking good he looks with them. At least from what I’ve seen from a distance. I think he makes them work, and I’m definitely not the only one in the kingdom that agrees. I think he just needs to bite the bullet and just… I don’t know. Do it.”

Schlatt once again thanks his past self profusely for the idea of wearing a mask to hide his face because he can feel the way his cheeks heat up to what he is sure is a bright red. You’re not particularly wrong. That was the original thought. To make himself look unkempt and not put together in an attempt to drive away potential suitors but he grew to like how they looked and grew fond of the hair.

“I don’t think he should just bite the bullet and marry the first person that asks for his hand” he defends, “I think he wants to marry for love. Not for some political alliance. I think that’s admirable.”

“Oh I agree. My apologies. That’s not what I meant. I meant he needs to bite the bullet and be fucking honest with the kingdom. The news that we get from the castle is that he’s the one that’s been rejected. That he wants to find the perfect alliance. That he wants what’s best for the kingdom. And while I agree that maybe he does, he needs to be fucking honest with us and tell us the truth. That he’s looking for love. Not what would ‘be best for the kingdom.’ We don’t mind that’s what’s happening, it’s the fact we’re being lied to, ya know?”

“Huh, so that’s the news that is coming out of the castle… I’ll have to talk to someone about that.”

Your breath catches slightly. “Shit. Sorry. I don’t want to get either of us in trouble. Forget me and my words. I know not of what I speak.”

“No, sweets. You have valid points. They deserve to be heard. I won’t mention your name if you wish. But I will make them hear me. I’m actually rather close with the prince.” He can’t help but internally snicker to himself. Closer than you know.

The blood drains from your face. “Of course you are. Of course I complain about the prince to someone that has direct connection with him… fuck. Okay. Cool. Good to know. Well… I have to go. I have to get my ingredients still and I must be home before stepmother gets there. It was a pleasure meeting you.” You state quickly before attempting to rush past him.

You're stopped by his hand grasping your shoulder gently, causing you to turn around to face him. “Will I ever see you again?”

The way he asks is so soft and gentle. It causes your heart to pound loudly and the breath to pause in your throat. “Maybe,” you breathe out.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment more before it hits you. “I have a carrier pigeon. I’ll send it with a letter to the castle and we can talk like that. Maybe sometime we can meet again. Maybe on one of your days off.”

The man’s beautiful brown eyes light up with delight. “That would be amazing. I look forward to hearing from you.” He allows his hand to trail from your shoulder, down your arm, to your hand, and he lifts the hand to his lips before placing a kiss to it. He gives you a soft wink as he drops your hand. You turn away as you blush, willing yourself to calm down.

“Oh!” You startle, “I forgot to ask your name-“ the words die on your lips to find the spot next to you vacated with the tall stranger nowhere in sight. “Great. Just great… well. I better get going. Those cookies won’t bake themselves.”

Schlatt has never felt so giddy. He can’t wait to hear from you. He also realizes he never gave you a name, he’ll just have to keep his eye out for a new and unfamiliar carrier pigeon.

You debate with yourself when you get home what the proper waiting time is for sending a stranger a letter with the pigeon. Because you wrote one as soon as you got home and it was ready to send within two hours of meeting him. Sending one that quickly may spook him. It could cause him to think you’re weird.

You decide you’ll wait a couple hours, bake cookies and make dinner and then when your stepmother allows you to retire to your room, that is when you’ll send it. And so that is what you do. You check over the letter a thousand times before you tuck it into the envelope and hand it to your carrier pigeon. “To the castle pigeon, look for a man with brown hair and brown eyes… well that’s specific huh?... I really should have gotten his name. Okay… well… I guess we will half to wing it.” You scribble down something on the envelope and hand it to the pigeon who takes it with its foot and flies off to the castle.

Schlatt is taking a stroll in the gardens, kicking himself for not asking for a better way to contact you. He hadn’t heard anything from you and at this point he’s worrying he never will. He’s spent most of his time analyzing the conversation over and over again in his head and realized that he probably came off too strong and too weird and he will be lucky to ever see you again.

He jumps as a pigeon lands on his shoulder,to his head snapping to the side to meet the wide, vacant eye of the bird. It gives a soft coo before shaking and moving its foot, drawing attention to the letter in its grasp. His heart leaps to his throat in hope before he swallows and carefully takes it.

He grins at the writing on the front of the envelope. “Sir Charmed, lover of chocolate chip cookies.” Instantly all his worries melt away as he plucks the letter from its hiding and he reads the words. Once. Twice. A Hundred times. Schlatt rushes inside to carefully compose his response.

You don’t go a day without hearing from each other for the next couple of weeks. You exchange letters. You tell him about your life and how you got your love of baking, and your want of leaving the house. He tells you the pressures of his job and how sometimes he just wants to run away from it all and explore the world. You make him promise that if he does, he’ll take you with him. He promises.

You forget to get his name and at this point you’re too embarrassed to ask him for it, instead electing to call him a bunch of nicknames, mainly being Sir Charming, hoping he never catches on. He never seems to.

The two of you agree to meet up once more, somewhere a little more quiet than the market square, but still public (because you have to be proper.) You’re sure to wear the cutest outfit you can manage to put together and bake the best batches of cookies you’ve ever baked.

“Where are you going?” Ted asks with his brow raised, watching Schlatt with his arms crossed as Schlatt sneaks through the castle halls.

Schlatt freezes and slowly turns. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sureeeee,” Ted draws, not convinced at all. “You’re just creeping through the halls in one of your best outfits going… nowhere.”

Schlatt sighs, not being able to hide from his best friend. “I’m going to meet them.”

Ted raises an eyebrow. “Them? The one you’ve been writing all those letters to? Are you sure that’s a good idea”

“I know that it is. Please. Cover for me?”

Ted sighs but can’t deny Schlatt has been happier in the past couple weeks than he has been for the past couple months. “Okay fine. But you’d better bring me back one of those sugar cookies.”

Schlatt gives Ted a toothy grin. “We’ll see.”

You give him a shy smile as he appears. “Hey, you,” you greet standing, wiping your hands on your pants.

“Hey sweets,” he greets back, his voice muffled through the mask still adorned on his face. You didn’t mind too much. He explained that it made him more comfortable, especially because in his work he has to wear something to cover his face under the helmet, it’s just easier for him to wear it. As much as you want to see his entire face, you were willing to respect his choices.

“How are you?”

“Can’t complain, especially now that I get to see your beauty standing before me.”

You can’t stop the blush that floods your cheeks. “Oh hush. Here. I’ve made you something special.” You tell him, turning and grabbing the special baked good that you made him. “It’s a chocolate chocolate-chip brookie. Or a double chocolate chip cookie baked inside a brownie. I remember you said that you loved brownies and cookies and sometimes can’t choose which to have so I made you both… well two in one.”

You raise your hand with one of the treats toward him, facing the basket still, still trying to will down the blush on your cheeks.

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” you have to hold in the jump as you feel his soft breath against your hand. You will yourself to stay in place as his lips brush against your outstretched fingers as he gently takes a bite out of the treat in your hand. A loud groan escapes him, similar to the one you heard the day the two of you met. “Okay, I take back everything I’ve said… This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

All of your hard work is ruined as the blood rushes back to your cheeks into a blush. “What have I told you about talking with your mouth full?” You deflect

The treat is removed from your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “My apologies, your highness.” His words are even more mumbled, telling you he shoved the brookie all the way into his mouth.

You scoff. “Careful now, you’ll get me hung for treason with that nickname.”

His laugh garbled out around the baked good. “Surely the king isn’t that cruel.” His hand rests on your shoulder and turns you to face him, the mask sitting on his face once again.

You laugh back and shrug, “I don’t know. I’ve never met the man.”

“Well I have. So I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“Is that so?... I guess I’ll just have to trust you then.”

You stare into his brilliant and beautiful eyes for a while longer before he moves, clearing his throat and gesturing forward, “Shall we then?”

“I am getting sick of these games you’re playing, Jonathan.” King Philza booms loudly.

Schlatt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’m not playing games with you father, I’ve told you. I want to marry for-”

“For love. I understand. But how can you marry for love when you push away every single option I give you. You haven’t given yourself a chance to fall in love with anyone I have brought before you and I am growing tired of it. If you do not pick someone within the next month, I will be choosing someone for you. End of story. Am I understood?”

Schlatt internally panics. He knew this day was coming. He knew he was pushing his father too far. He had held out for too long. His stomach drops… There’s only one person he could see himself marrying at this point…

Assuming he had been understood, Philza turns to walk out the door. “Let’s throw a ball,” the words tumble from Schlatt’s lips.

Phil turns back around with an eyebrow raised. “A ball?”

“You want me to marry quickly. I want to marry for love. So what better way than to throw a ball, invite everyone in the kingdom, emphasizing the invitations for single people, and then I’ll be able to talk and dance with people all night. And I swear to you, if we throw this ball I will find a betrothed by the end of the month.”

Phil is silent for a while. Tossing the words over in his head for a moment before giving a single nod. “So be it.” He then turns and exits the room.

Schlatt lets out a harsh breath. Well that was easier than expected. Now to convince you to come to a ball.

It takes less convincing than one might think.

You get a letter from your Sir Charming, who tells you there will be a ball and that he wants you to come as his guest. He tells you that you’d be able to bring some of your baked goods to give out to nobles to promote your baking, plus you’d be able to see him. You hate to admit how much the latter of the two sold you on the idea. You sent back your acceptance of the invitation.

The money you’ve gotten from selling your baked goods is supposed to go to a moving out fund, but you can’t help but take out a couple of the gold pieces that he gave you in the first meeting, finding it only fitting that his money buys your outfit for the ball

It’s a really pretty outfit, it fits you well enough, you had to buy it a size larger because they didn’t have your size and you didn’t have enough money to get it tailored. But it didn’t matter that much to you. Your mystery man had seen you in grubbier garment, anything would be a step up from what you met him in.

The news of the ball gets announced to the entire kingdom, and your stepmother is perhaps more excited than you are. She thinks at least one of her daughters will win the heart of the prince. When you voice your want to go, she forbids you. You tell her that you don’t even want to be in the presence of the prince, you just want to see the snack table, she sneers at you but says nothing further, making you believe that perhaps she will allow you to go.

You find yourself in your kitchen, finishing up some of the baked goods you were to take to the ball tonight. The loud clacking of your stepmother’s heels echo on the tile, the door swings open, your stepmother enters in a rage. Your heart stops as you look up from your desserts and see your outfit clutched in her hands.

“What is this?” She hisses, waving the fabric at you as she gets closer.

“My outfit for the ball,” you answer as calmly as you can, speaking around the lump in your throat.

“Oh!” She lets out in mock surprise, “Is it now? I thought you said you were not going to be trying to win the attention of the prince.”

You furrow your brow and remain standing straight with your shoulders squared back, “I am not. I have no intention of wooing the prince, stepmother.”

“Then why have you chosen to wear such an attention seeking outfit? Surely you were planning on going behind my and my daughter’s back. I should have known you were going to do something like this.”

“Please, stepmother. You must believe me. I have no--”

“I do not believe you, you little wench. You’ve always have looked for ways out of this house, to one up me and my daughters. I will stand for this no more.”

You want so badly to lash out, to rip the outfit from her hands, go running from the room, and get dressed. But you can’t move. You can barely breathe. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your stomach turning, and your body locking up. You can only watch as your stepmother glides over to the stove. Her eyes glide over the stove top before smirking. She dunks the outfit into the melted chocolate you were going to use to cover some of the treats.

To make matters worse, part of the cloth flops over the edge of the pan and lands directly on the open flame that was on to melt the chocolate. Your stepmother lets out a triumphant laugh as the outfit catches fire, turning around and leaving the kitchen.

The sound of the door closing behind her causes you to leap into action finally. You rip the outfit out of the pot and toss it in the sink, dousing it with water, extinguishing the flame. The chocolate clings to the fabric, refusing to let go easily as you put your entire being into scrubbing the outfit.

Sobs begin falling from your lips as you realize, even if you get all of the chocolate out of this outfit, it will never dry in time for the ball. Plus. you don’t have fabric to sew up the part where the flame ate part of it. Your outfit is ruined. Your plans are ruined. The night is ruined.

You barely register your stepmother calling for your stepsisters, telling them it was time to go, and the door opening and closing behind them. The world seems to spin around you, sinking you to your knees as you sob loudly, clutching the soaking web fabric to your chest.

The cool tile welcomes you, the warmth of the oven soothes you, and the wetness of the outfit grounds you. The sobs turn into soft hiccups then to silent sniffles as you stare in front of you. Mentally you begin to write your apology letter to Sir Charming about your abscess from the ball. How you were going to go, you really were, you just didn’t have anything suitable to wear.

He’ll probably ask you why you didn’t plan better. He’ll probably be angry. He may not want to speak to you again. You’ll just have to deal with it and beg for forgiveness. And if he decides not to forgive you…. You’ll just have to live with it.

A soft knock echoes from the front door. You’re so in your own head, you’re not sure it’s a real sound, but then it comes again, a little louder this time. You muse it may be one of your steps who forgot something and didn’t think to bring a key.

In a zombie-like fashion, you let the fabric drop from your hands before standing up slowly. It almost feels as if you’re floating as you move to the front door. Your hand somehow finds the doorknob, unlocking it, before turning it and opening it up.

You startle slightly at the sight in front of you. A frail looking older man stands before you. He has grey hair, a hunchback, and a shawl that comes up and covers the top of his head and shoulders. “Oh… hello. Can I help you?” You ask softly, looking out past him wondering where he came from. Your house wasn’t necessarily in the middle of nowhere, but you definitely had your privacy from neighbors. You lived on the edge of the kingdom, no one ever really comes out here.

“Hello there, deary.” His voice is kind and his lips turn upwards slightly. “I am sorry to bother you at this time of night, but I was just on my way home and my stomach let out an awful grumble and I was just wondering if you could spare a bite to eat? I won’t take much, I promise, just something to get me home.”

You don’t know what made you trust this stranger, maybe it was just your deep need to help those around you, maybe you were still in shock from what your stepmother had done minutes… an hour? You’re not sure. But you give him a smile. “Oh yes, of course. Please come in sir. Lucky for you, I was just making something sweet. So you can snack on that while I make you dinner.”

You move out of the way and let the man enter your house.

“Oh, please deary, no need to make me a whole meal.”

“Nonsense,” you answer, guiding him into the kitchen, “I want to make sure you’re well fed for your journey home.” You hand him some of the cookies from the counter. “Here, make yourself at home.”

The man takes the cookie from your hands gently before sitting himself down at the counter. “You are far too kind… I wasn’t even sure anyone would be home. I heard the royal family is throwing a ball, and everyone is invited.”

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips as you begin making dinner for this kind man. “Yes, well, my stepmother believed me unworthy to attend… went as far as to destroy my outfit…” you take a moment to look down at the outfit, still soaking at your feet. You snap yourself out of the stupor, “Sorry. Not to dump.”

The man hums as he takes a bite of the cookie. “I see…. Oh this is delicious. You should run a bakery.” He exclaims.

A shy smile plays on your lips as you plate his food. “That’s the goal…One day. Thank you… Anyway, dinner is served!” You place the plate in front of him, your smile growing.

The man instantly digs in and hums in delight at the taste. The two of you converse as he eats, he talks about his life and you give him more insight into yours. Telling him of how you got your love of baking and your hopes of owning a bakery, but not working for the baker in the village.

Soon, he’s down to his last bite of dinner. He pops it in his mouth before leaning back into his chair. “Wow, that hit the spot. Thank you again deary, for dinner and the delightful conversation…”

You give him a smile, “Of course, it’s my pleasure… I just realized I never got your name.”

“You can call me Quackity…AKA”

Suddenly golden light surrounds the man in front of you, forcing a gasp out of your lips. “What’s going on?” You exclaim as the light draws closer to the man, glowing brighter.

Through squinted eyes, you watch the wrinkles fall from the man’s face. It’s as if an ink pot spills from the shawl the rests on his head, his hair turning black. The fabric morphs into a dark grey beanie that remains covering the top part of his hair. His spine straightens, his outfit morphing into a sharp tuxedo with golden wings protruding from his back. His piercing eyes, suddenly getting covered by black sunglasses.

The golden motes of light fade from existence, the old man no longer in front of you, a young man now sitting before you.

“Your fairy godmother…father…papi? Ah who knows.”

You stare wide-eyed, mouth agape at the man that now sits in front of you. “What the fuck?” You whisper. “Who are you?”

The young man tilts his head and gives a playful grin. “I just told you, silly. I’m your fairy god-Papi. You can also call me Quackity. But I’ve watched over you, and I had to make sure you were still a good person. We don’t have time for the full backstory, we have a ball to get you too, dulces.”

You stare at him, your mouth moving like a fish out of water. “What are you talking about? I can’t go to the ball, my outfit is ruined, I don’t have a way to get there. I can’t… Don’t you have to get home?”

Quackity laughs causing you to pout to play on your lips. Quackity notices, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, you’re just too sweet. I know you think we just met, but you have to trust me. You’ve already let me in your home, you may as well trust me to do this as well.”

You puff up your cheeks with air as you toss your thoughts back and forth, debating his words. Maybe you’re asleep. Maybe you crashed and fell asleep on the kitchen floor and this is all just a dream. At this point, that would make the most sense. You pinch the skin on your thigh, flinching but looking around. When nothing around you changes, you’re forced to take this situation as reality. Incredibly weird, fucked up reality.

You meet Quackity’s bright eyes again, his kind smile never fading. “Okay.” You speak softly, letting your shoulders relax. “I trust you.”

His grin grows bigger and he claps his hands once in delight, holding them in front of his chest for a brief moment, looking you over excitedly. “I knew I chose you for a reason. Let’s get this done then, shall we?”

Quackity claps twice and the golden light fills your vision again, this time though, they’re surrounding you. Your clothes shift and change, the fabric changes and gets tighter to your body. Your hair moves around on its own, which feels weird at first, but then you realize that it feels like someone is doing your hair and you think back to your mother and father doing your hair when you were little. You feel the flour and the sugar fall from your face and your fingertips as the light cleans you up.

Your gaze moves down to your feet and your breath catches at the shoes you now adorn. They’re breathtaking, literally apparently. They’re made of glass, the majority of the shoe being see through, but a gorgeous pattern of color, as if spun sugar swirled throughout. They’re insanely comfortable too. You’d think that shoes made of glass would be uncomfortable, but they’re not. They’re perhaps the most comfortable shoes you’ve ever worn.

Soon, the light fades and you turn to find Quackity holding a mirror. The outfit is beautiful and truly made for a ball. It’s actually your size and fits you well in all of the right places. Your hair is beautiful as well, pulled back to show your face, but is done up in an intricate way. Your face, as you felt, is clear of the evidence of your baking.

“I look good,” you whisper, turning slightly, examining yourself from different angles.

“I know, I did well, didn’t I?” Quackity boasts, the feathers of his wings ruffling at the slight praise.

You look from the mirror to catch his gaze. “You did. But I still don’t have a way there, I don’t want to walk.”

Quackity shakes their head. “Oh yee of little faith. Grab those boxes of treats and follow me.”

You whip around and find all of the baked goods you were working on packed neatly in your boxes. The magic must have moved them while you were getting dolled up. You blinked away the happy tears and scooped up the boxes and scurried out the door after Quackity.

You stand back and watch as Quackity waves his hands around, the golden magic illuminating the dark night. It swirls around a pumpkin in your garden you were planning on using for a pie when it got ripe, making it grow larger and larger, changing from a thick orange pumpkin skin to a brilliant white carriage with golden details.

The sheep that wanders your small farm gets surrounded by the light and is transformed into a beautiful woman who bends at the waist in front of you. “My lady,” she speaks. You curtsy back at her, giggling. You can’t believe this is real.

Two field mice get transformed into a carriage driver and their assistant. Your carrier pigeon you’ve been using gets enlarged into a giant pigeon which the driver and assistant immediately move to get the pigeon hooked up to the carriage. Quackity moves over to stand by you, grinning as the golden light fades away as everything comes to order. “Ta da!” He says, holding his hands out and wiggling his fingers towards to new carriage and humans there to take you to the ball.

You can’t stop yourself from turning to him and throwing your arms around him, pulling him closely to you. He lets out a soft “oof” but wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. “Thank you so much… fairy god….papi.”

Quackity barks out a laugh but squeezes you tighter. “Of course, dulces. Now, this magic doesn’t come without a downside.” He says, pulling away and looking you in the eye. “Nothing too bad, but the magic will fade at midnight. The carriage will go back to a pumpkin, the footman back to mice and your sheep lady to a sheep. Your outfit will fade. It will all end at midnight. So, go, have fun at the ball, eat, drink, make friends, do it all. But when that clock strikes midnight, run like hell little lady.”

You give him a short nod. “I understand… thank you. Will I ever see you again?”

Quackity smiles softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “I’ll never be far away from you, dulces.”

You know that means probably not, buy you decide to ignore it as you give him another hug.

He hugs you back before pulling away again. “Enough sap, you have a ball to go to. Go on! Get!” He pushes you toward the open door of the carriage. You giggle, gather the boxes of baked goods you had set down, and move to the carriage.

Puffy, the lady in waiting, climbs in the carriage after you, closing the door behind her, before hitting the top of the carriage, causing the driver to give a shout and the carriage rocks forward.

You glance out the window toward the house and find Quackity watching the carriage leave, his hands pressed to his chest. You bring your hand up and give a small wave. Quackity raises his hand and waves after you, until you cannot see him any longer.

Schlatt was going a little crazy. It was as if the entire kingdom had shown up. Everyone was here. Everyone but you. You had promised that you would come in the letter that you sent a week ago, but maybe you had changed your mind. He hopes you hadn’t though. Afterall, he swore to his father he would be betrothed by the end of this night.

He had met countless single village people, all trying to bat their eyes hard enough to make him take a second glance, but none of them were you. He found himself slumping down in his throne, brushing off the glare his father threw over his shoulder. Pretending not to hear the, “This is what you wanted. At least act like you want to be here.” He hissed over. Schlatt just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

It becomes apparent he has met everyone here tonight and still no sign of you. Until there’s a large commotion by the snack table. His gaze shoots over and his heart picks up at the sight. It’s you. You look so different from the other times he’s seen you, but it is you. He’s on his feet in an instant and rushing over.

You arrive later than everyone else at the ball, but honestly you’re totally okay with that. Less attention to yourself. You give a small bow to your servants for the evening, giving your carrier pigeon a few scritches before ducking into the castle. You hope you’ll be able to find your Sir Charming quickly so you can stick to him for the entire night. You decide you’ll first hit up the snack table to set up your baked goods and sign for the other nobles to taste just like Sir Charming said to do.

You find the table is already packed with baked goods from the bakery. You take it upon yourself to begin moving some of the treats over to make room for your treats.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A familiar voice booms from behind you.

You roll your eyes at the voice but turn around and face the baker, Mr. Lou Hamani. “I was invited to display my baked goods at this ball. So I’m simply making room.” You answer before turning back around and putting more desserts out.

Lou moves to stand beside you at the table and begins to grab at your treats. “I think not you disrespectful child. I am being paid by the king’s advisor himself for these desserts. I will not have you screwing over my chance to impress the nobles that are here today at this ball. You will pack up and leave at once.”

“I will do no such thing, I was invited to set up shop here by a castle staff member and I intend to do so.” You huff. Lou pays your words no mind and continues to gather up the things you’ve baked in his arms. “Hey, put those down. Give those back.” If he hears you he pretends like he doesn’t and cotiunes what he’s doing. It’s then you begin to try and grab your treats out of his hands.

The baker snaps at you, “get your hands off of me.”

“Give me my things back!”

You’re so invested in what is going on in front of you that you don’t realize that the entire ballroom’s eyes are on you.

In the middle of your squabble, someone loudly clears their throat. You then realize you’re in public and everyone can see you. You decide to still not care and face it with confidence. The baker looks over his shoulder and seems to pale at the sight. Your brow slightly furrows and you turn around.

Deep pools of chestnut brown lock with yours and they’re just as fucking beautiful as the day you first met them. They fill you with a sense of calm, but at the same time nerves as butterflies fill your stomach. You think you will never tire of looking him in the eyes.

You find your eyes drifting down and you feel your stomach lurch and your heart stop. You’re seeing his face uncovered for the first time. He’s so fucking handsome…

So fucking handsome with those god fucking damn mutton chops.

“Your highness,” you hear the baker greet shakily from behind you.

Your thoughts are confirmed. The man you met that day in the market, the one you’ve been sending letters to, the one you met once more, the one you’ve been slowly developing feelings for. Is Prince fucking Schlatt himself. Of fucking course he never told you his name. Of fucking course he never showed his face. It’s been him this whole time.

Oh fuck.

You’ve shit talked about him to his fucking face.

You’re fucked.

Gods. You look beautiful. He didn’t know anyone could ever look this good. He’s so fucking happy you came.

His eyes meet yours and he can tell you’re in shock. He was a bit surprised you figured it out, that your Sir Charming was actually the prince. The other part of him feels fuzzy that you can recognize him just from his eyes. He can only hope that you forgive him for lying to you.

“Mr. Hamani,” He greets easily, his eyes not leaving yours. He’s trying to decipher what it is you’re thinking, but your shocked expression masks any else you may be thinking. “Would you kindly unhand my favorite baked goods from my favorite baker? You’ll have to forgive me sir, while I find your treats delicious, I find theirs simply irresistible. I invited them and told them to set up shop here. I apologize that no one informed you in advance.”

The baker stutters but gives a quick bow. “Of course, your highness. No need to apologize to me. I was simply surprised at their appearance is all. They have always been rather disruptive and I wanted to ensure it wasn’t something of that sort happening again… I apologize, your highness.”

Schlatt gives a simple wave of his hand. “Forgiven.” He speaks.

The baker dumps the treats from his hands back on \to the table and scurries away. Schlatt strides over and snatches up a double chocolate chip cookie and takes a bite, moaning at the taste, before turning to face you. He gives a shy smile.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he states softly as if nerves have invaded his entire stomach. As if he has a right to be nervous after the shit he let you get away with.

“Hello,” You answer tensely.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other for a moment. You haven’t even noticed that the entire ballroom is still at a standstill, staring.

You’re the first to move. You charge forward at him, your finger rising in the air, pointing directly at him. “You. I can’t believe that you-”

Prince Schlatt grabs your hand out of the air, bows, and brings the back of your hand up to his lips. The feeling of his soft lips on your hand sets the flesh there ablaze. You feel your face flush with searing heat along with the heat that floods your entire body. He mutters your name softly, lips still pressed to your hand, sending butterflies soaring in your stomach.

“Prince Schlatt.” You utter, curtsying slightly.

He stands back up to his full height and gives you a soft, lopsided grin. “May I have this dance?”

All of the heated words you wanted to sling his way die on your tongue. You can’t help but wonder if this is all a prank. Like if you accept, he is going to laugh in your face and you’re going to be tossed in the dungeon.

But then you meet his eyes.

Those damn fucking eyes.

They tell you so much, you’re surprised they didn’t tell you who you had been speaking to this entire time.

They tell you to trust him. That he truly means what he is saying. That he wants nothing more than for you to say yes, because he wants to dance with you. Truly, deeply, wants to dance with you.

Hope.

His eyes fill with hope.

And how can you say no to hope.

“You may.”

Schlatt is probably the happiest he’s ever been when you accept his offer to dance. His grin widens significantly before he leads you to the middle of the ballroom. He bows to you and you curtsy. The band strikes up a beautiful waltz song and the two of you begin to dance.

He notices that you’re working hard to follow his moves. It dawns on him that you are indeed a commoner and so you don’t have the dance training drilled into you as he has. He slows his pace down and smiles brightly as your shoulders sag in relief as you catch up with him.

“Sorry,” you mumble for a third time as you step on his toes once more.

“Please stop apologizing. I do not mind. Truly…”

He stares at you beaming, trying to make you see the truth. You seem to only slightly believe him. He clears his throat and pauses for a moment. “Here, step on my feet. I’ll move us around the ballroom.”

He smiles through you raising your eyebrows as if to ask if he was serious. He nods encouragingly.

You realize that he’s not going to move again until you comply. So you do. You carefully step both of your feet onto his, praying the glass shoes are as comfortable on top of his feet as they are on yours. If they’re not, he makes no show of it. His smirk grows impossibly wide and begins to move around once more.

The rest of the room fades away. He can see no others in the ballroom. His gaze is focused on you and you alone. He whispers jokes to you and feels his heart warm when you toss your head back in laughter.

With you, he’s not the prince.

He’s just Schlatt.

He couldn’t be more thankful for you.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed as Prince Schlatt dances you across the room. Your father always told you not paying attention to your mother’s dance lessons would come back to bite you. You never thought you’d see the day that would come to fruition.

But he moved you around with such ease that it made you feel as if you were floating. It didn’t matter you didn’t know how to dance, he was there. He was helping you through. He was there for you.

Your mind takes that thought and runs with it.

You think back to you waiting everyday eagerly for his letters to arrive. The way you blossomed under his praise, both of you and your baking. Ever since the moment you met him, he always was there to catch you. You can’t think of a single moment in the past couple months where your mind wasn’t filled with the thoughts of him.

He has always been there.

The music ends and the two of you bow to each other. A round of applause startles the two of you out of your bubble. You look around and find several other couples had joined you on the dance floor, but most people had stayed pressed on the sidelines, watching the dances. Those are the ones that were now applauding. Your face flushes once more and you duck your head down as you step off of Prince Schaltt’s feet and away from him.

If the prince notices you trying to put distance between the two of you, he doesn’t make it known. He instead grabs your hand once more, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand.

“Come on, I must introduce you.” He states simply before moving towards the front of the room where his family sat.

Your heart leaps to your throat, eyes widening as the royal family draws nearer and nearer. Somewhere in your brain had registered that if your Sir Charming was the Prince Schlatt, then his father would then be King Philza. But that didn’t actually click until now.

Until the King, Queen, and other Prince were rising to meet you.

“Father, Mother… brother,” Schlatt greets with a wide smile giving them a bow. “It is my honor to introduce you to my guest of honor for the evening.” You can barely believe it’s your name that then falls from his lips.

Through the fog in your head, you thank yourself for remembering to give a deep bow to the royal family of the land. “Your majesties. Thank you for allowing me… everyone into your home. Everything about this ball is beautiful and perfect.” You give yourself a pat on the back for sliding in that compliment.

“Everything except the pastries from the local baker it seems.” King Philza’s tone is so deep and regal it’s incredibly hard to register the joking tone.

You swallow hard. “Forgive me, your highness. Mr. Hamani and I have never gotten along. I should not have brought our feud inside your home.”

King Philza gives a dismissive wave.

“It’s quite alright, dear.” Queen Kristen speaks up, her tone soft and gentle. “Sometimes men allow their egos to get in the way.”

You can’t help but giggle along with her and nod along.

“Dear!” King Philza lets out in a slight aghast tone.

“Oh do not tell me I am wrong, my love. You should know this better than anyone.”

The King does not have a response back for that. He instead turns back around and catches your eye. His gaze is so piercing you cannot help but look down at your feet. “We will not keep you any longer. Please, enjoy the ball.”

“But I haven’t had a chance to talk with them yet!” Prince Tommy whines, stepping forward to stand with his father.

The King rests a hand on his back and opens his mouth to speak but Prince Schaltt cuts him off. “Nor will you ever. We are off to enjoy the ball now. Farewell.”

Before anyone in his family can get a word in, Prince Schlatt pulls you away. He beelines to the snack table, the people around it parting to allow him access to the table. Almost all of your baked goods are gone, stuffed in the hands of the attendees, all wanting to see just what made Prince Schlatt deny the local baker.

Schlatt snaggs two of the double chocolate chip cookies and one of the brookies from the table and continues on his way, still pulling you away. Instead of stopping somewhere in the grand ballroom, he pulls you completely out of the castle and into the royal gardens.

He stops in front of a bench in front of a fountain. He takes a seat and pats the bench next to him, silently inviting you to sit down.

You do not sit down.

Instead, you take a couple paces back and forth in front of him, before you turn on your heel to face him. “I cannot fucking believe you!” You finally let out all of your nerves and frustrations into the sentence.

Prince Schlatt startles slightly, coughing as a crumb of his cookies go down the wrong pipe. He clears his throat and goes to speak up but you don’t give him the chance.

“You fucking asshole. You let me talk shit about your father… about you to your face the first time we met. Let me talk about your mutton chops. Never stopping to correct me or let me know who you were. You let me call you Sir Charming, never once stopping to tell me your name. How did I let this go this far? You let me write you letters everyday and you wrote me back! You told me so much about you and your life, but didn’t tell me this? This seems pretty fucking big, your highness. Oh my fucking gods. Oh my gods. I can’t fucking believe you. Holy fucking shit. You’re such a fucking asshole.”

You can’t stop your hand from coming up and slapping his shoulder, pushing him back, not hard enough to push him off but hard enough to prove a point.

He says nothing for a few moments, letting you breathe through it and calm down, before a grin splits his face. “Yeah. But it was hot. I liked being put in my place during our first meeting. It was interesting to hear your perspective. Someone talking to a complete stranger, not trying to kiss my ass and make me feel good about myself… though with the way you were talking about my chops, maybe you did just a bit of the latter anyway.”

You let out a frustrated groan as the heat floods your cheeks. “Fuck you.”

He reaches out and cups your cheek, bringing you down a bit to press a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, yeah.”

You take a few more deep breaths before allowing yourself to plop down beside him. You rest your head against his shoulder, forgetting your properness for a moment, taking another deep breath. “I can’t fucking believe you.” You mutter one final time.

Schlatt turns and presses a kid to the top of your head before resting his head on the top of your head. He lets the silence sit for a while before he clears his throat and speaks again. “I am sorry, by the way.”

You don’t speak, which he’s partially grateful for, it allows him to process his thoughts further. But on the other hand, he can’t see your face so he can’t tell if the silence is back.

“I am sorry for not telling you. For lying about who I am… I… You didn’t know me and yet I wanted to know you…but I knew I wouldn’t get that chance if I was honest about who I was. You had a preconceived notion about who I am and I wanted a chance to show you that’s not all of who I am… I didn’t mean for the lie to go on this long. And I do feel back for lying. And I really am sorry.”

Your silence kills him. His heart hammers in his chest. But then he feels you turn and nervously press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I forgive you.” The three words are the sweetest he’s ever fall from the lips of another. “I get it. I appreciate your apology and I forgive you, Prince Schlatt.”

“Jonathon.”

The name escapes his lips before he can stop it.

“Hmm?” You hum, pull your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye, your brows furrowed.

His eyes meet your and his heart pounds quickly in his chest. His stomach turning over and over again, churning with nerves. “Jonathon. My name is Jonathon. Call me Jonathon.”

“Jonathon.” You echo.

Schlatt takes back his previous thoughts. Several people have called him his given name before. But this? Now? When it falls from your lips? It is certainly the sweetest it has ever sounded.

He gives a small nod with a shy smile.

“I forgive you, Jonathon.”

He could pass away right then and there.

“I’m sorry I had to step on your feet so you could dance me around the ballroom.”

“I forgive you… would you like me to teach you how to dance?”

“Would you?”

“I would. I wouldn’t offer if I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to dance in front of everyone.”

“Who said anything about going back to the ballroom. We can dance right here.”

Schlatt leads you through several steps very slowly, picking up the pace only after he was sure you were comfortable with the steps.

Soon enough you were dancing like a pro. So much so that you could focus on the conversation between the two of you rather than the steps you were taking.

The two of you talked and danced privately in the gardens all night. You offered several times to go back to the ballroom, the man throwing the ball should at least be in there for longer than a couple moments. He ignored that and said he would rather spend time with the one he threw it for. You can’t help but blush at that.

You’re having such a fun time that you almost forget about the magic’s stipulation. Almost.

Jonathon spins you around once more, and pulls you in close to his chest. When you look up at him, you see he’s suddenly a lot closer than you realized. “Oh!” you let out softly. “Sorry,” you apologize, going to move away.

Jonathon’s hold on you tightens, keeping you in place. “No need to be sorry… I like having you close,” he whispers. Your eyes stray down to his lips as he speaks. They look so soft… so plush… so kissable.

“I like being close to you,” the confession uttered before you can stop it.

The corners of his lips up turn in a small smile. The two of you stand there, frozen in time for a moment before he begins to lean in. You move to meet him. Your lips are about to meet when the grandfather clock that sits across the garden echoes out a loud chime.

It causes you to jump and turn to look at it.

It’s midnight.

“Oh fuck.” You let out. “Is that clock accurate?” You ask, pulling yourself from Jonathan’s arms.

He frowns, brows furrowing slightly, following your gaze. “Oh that old thing? Uhhh, just about. It’s 15 minutes fast. Why?”

You ignore his question and begin to move back toward the inside of the castle. “Fuck. I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll see you later. I have to go.”

“Wait,” He calls after you, calling your name. “Slow down. Come back. Please. You don’t have to leave.”

“You don’t understand,” You call back, picking up your pace. “I do.”

Without paying attention, you burst back into the ballroom. Several eyes falling on you, eyebrows raised. You pay no mind still and run, trying to push your way past everyone in the room, but people keep coming up to you to talk to you.

A hand on your wrist spins you around and you lock eyes with those beautiful chestnuts you’ve grown so fond of. His eyes scream worry and panic, silently begging you to stop running.

You yourself must look panicked and frantic in a different way. Like a wild animal that has been caged and is about to start lashing out.

“Please.” You whisper. “Help me.”

The grip on your wrist loosens. Schlatt may not understand, but he will always do everything he can in order to be the person you need at any given moment.

“Everyone!” He calls out loudly, moving towards the refreshment table. “Please come over here and join me in a toast to celebrate this evening.”

The crowd instantly leaves you, allowing you a path to exit the room and then the castle. You’ve never been happier to see the grass as you are now.

“Stop! Wait! Halt in the name of the Prince!” You turn slightly and look over your shoulder and find a knight with fluffy brown hair and square glasses chasing after you. In the moment, you recognize him as Charlie, one of Schlatt’s best friends/knights.

“Oh fuck!” You shout. The magic was starting to fade already, you can tell, because all of the sudden it was hard to run in your glass shoes. You bend down and kick them both into your awaiting hands. You turn for a sharp moment, throwing one of your shoes at the knight. He lets out a loud startled scream, stopping for just long enough for you to run to your carriage.

“Go! Go! Go!” You shout at your footmen and lady. They waste no time before kicking up and bolting out and away from the palace. You look out the window and find Charlie has stopped chasing you, one hand on his hip, the other holding your glass shoe up to the light in an inspection.

You slump back in your seat, letting out a deep sigh.

“That was way too close.”

After getting all of his guests to make a toast, Schlatt books it out of the ballroom. He races to the front lawn. His head whips back and forth, peering down the road to try and see any sign of a moving carriage.

Footsteps sound from either side of him. His head turns and he meets the eyes of Ted who gives a pitying look and a shake of his head. Schlatt looks to the other side and meets Charlie’s eyes who also shakes his head. His eyes drift down to Charlie’s hands, and there was the shoe. Your beautiful glass shoe.

Schlatt slowly reaches out and carefully takes the shoe from his friend’s grasp and clutches it to his chest. He turns his eyes back down the main road, staring off letting out a soft sigh. Hands clasp on both of his shoulders in a silent comfort.

The magic faded when you were nearly home. You had to herd a sheep, two mice, and your carrier pigeon back home all while carrying your big ass pumpkin in slightly damp clothes barefoot as you had thrown your one shoe and taken off the other. Your shoe though did not fade with the magic, you weren’t sure if that made you happy or sad. By the time you made it back, you were exhausted. You quickly put everything back where it was supposed to go, taking a quick shower, tucking the shoe under your bed, and collapsing in your room.

You’re not sure how long you were asleep for before the door to your room slammed open. It startles you awake from your deep sleep. You look up and in a silhouette from the hallway light, is your stepmother. Your heart leaps to your throat, trying to take deep breaths in through your nose trying to calm down.

“Stepmother,” you greet groggily. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You insolent child.” She hisses. “I thought I made myself very clear. You were not to go to the ball. And what do you do, but steal the prince away for the whole evening?”

“I do not know what you’re speaking about, stepmother.”

She shoots a sharp glare at you. “You know exactly what I speak of… No matter. With the way you went running from the ball I’m sure the prince realized his mistake. Choosing you to dance and spend time with. With the way he let you go, I’m sure it’s that he realized you are not and will never be good enough for him. You? A low life orphan baker? Royalty? Never.”

Her words sting like the venom they are. But you can’t help but realize she’s right. No matter what you do, you’ll always be an orphan that so happens to be good at baking. You would be an awful royal.

Maybe that’s why he chose to help you escape rather than continue to chase after you.

Maybe he realized it too.

You will the tears to not fall as you stick your chin out a little further. “I do not know what you’re speaking about, stepmother. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to get some more sleep.”

She is a touch surprised at your instance, certain that her words would break you. She gives you another glare, but grabs the doorknob and slams the door to your bedroom.

You flop back on your bed and stare up at the ceiling for a long moment. You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears pool in your ear canal. You bring your hands up and wipe them away, rolling onto your side and clutching at one of your pillows.

You had to end it… whatever it was.

The clock on his wall warns him it’s 3 am, but Schlatt ignores it in favor of pacing back and forth in front of a table where the shoe was perched. Every so often he paused to look over the shoe before pacing again.

“Why did you run?” He asks the shoe, staring at it as if it will give a response. “Where did you go… why did you throw this shoe at Charlie’s head?” A small smile breaks on his face as he pictures the scene Charlie described to him three hours ago. “I would have given anything to see it… to be there myself… to stop you myself.”

He stands still for a moment longer before pacing again.

“Maybe… maybe you found it all to be too much…” He speaks, slowing down his steps. “It all caught up to you… didn’t it. It all sank in. You realized truly who I was and you had to get out… You… you don’t want me.”

He stops again, plopping down on the edge of his bed. “I suppose I can’t fault you… But I deeply wish you hadn’t run.” He flops backwards and stares up at the ceiling.

It was going to end… whatever it was.

Schlatt didn’t realize that he had fallen asleep until he wakes up. He spends a good amount of time staring up at the ceiling. Every knock on the door gets a “go away” as he lays in bed wallowing in his own self pity. The knocks stop for a couple hours. But then they’re back again.

Schlatt startles out of his thought spiral and this knock on the door, this one louder than all the others. He groans at the sound, rolling over on his side and tugging a pillow over his head, blocking out most of the noise. “Go away,” He calls out, tucking himself into his bed further.

The silence makes him believe whoever was outside listened to him. That is until the door opens and shuts behind him. He groans from the back of his throat, rolling himself over and sitting up. “I said, go away-- father-” He interrupts himself as his eyes meet his father’s green ones.

Philza raises an eyebrow and the corners of his lips turn up slightly at his son’s behavior. “Good day to you too, Jonathan.”

“Good day, dad.” Schlatt mumbles, sitting himself up properly. Schlatt moves his feet up slightly to make room for Philza as he moves and sits down on the end of Schlatt’s bed.

Philza’s hand smooths over the blankets as he gives a glance around the room. His eyes catch on the shoe, still propped up on the table. “They gave you their shoe?” He asks, amusement lacing his tone.

Schlatt huffs a laugh. “More like, threw it at Charlie’s head.”

Philza doesn’t hold back and lets the laugh escape his lips. “Oh I knew I liked them. You picked well son. An excellent love match.”

Schlatt sighs and turns to lay on his side, back facing his dad. “Apparently not. She ran away. I assume because she couldn’t handle me… who I really am. I don’t blame her after all the time I spent lying to her.”

Phil furrows his brow and questions what Schlatt means by that. With nothing left to hide, Schlatt divulges the entire relationship. How they met and met again (which Phil was not happy about but decided now was not the time to bring it up) and how they sent letters to each other nearly everyday and how he knew they didn’t know his name but never told them his name or who he really is. How he had thrown the ball hoping they’d come and they did and how it has all been for them but it’s all been for nother.

Phil nods along, listening carefully. He lets Schlatt take deep breaths after his rant. “I knew something was up.” Schlatt meets his eyes, curious but does not speak. “You’ve been so much happier in these past few weeks than I can remember… And you were so insistent on a love match. Deep down I knew… So my only question is why the hell are you moping around this room when you should be out there looking for them?”

“Didn’t you hear me, dad? They don’t want me. They ran away.”

“Did they tell you they didn’t want you? Look you in the eyes and say ‘Prince Schlatt I do not want you?’”

“No but--”

“No buts, son. I haven’t seen you this happy in years. I know that you’re in love with them, whether you realize it or not. I know because you look at them the same way I look at your mother. And they wouldn’t have spent the whole night with you if they didn’t love you too. They wouldn’t have given you a clue telling you to come get them if they didn’t.” Philza motions to the shoe. “So again, I ask you. Why the hell are you moping around this room when you should be out there looking for them?”

The words resonate with Schlatt, filling him with hope, that maybe, just maybe you love him like he loves you… damn. Yeah. He loves you.

“You’re right… I have to go dad, I have to…” Schlatt shoots up out of bed and digs through his closet and throws on a random outfit. “I have to get Ted and Charlie and a whole group and we have to go looking. Door to door. I have to find them. I am going to find them.” He runs a hand through his hair before whipping around to face his father with a grin. He rushes forward and presses a kiss on his father’s cheek. “Thanks, dad.”

You sat staring at the blank piece of paper in front of you. What to say to the man that makes you feel everything. You twirl your pen in between your fingers a couple times. Letting out a sigh, you lean back for a moment, looking out the window. Your attention gets caught by the pigeon beside you who lets out a coo. You sigh again, reaching out and giving the bird scritches. “Hey there,” you murmur. The bird leans into your fingers, rubbing against you more. “Yeah… I know this letter won’t write itself.” The bird cocks its head and coos. “Yeah, just one more letter… a goodbye. I know you must be excited, you won’t have to carry my messages anymore.” Another coo. “Well, of course I’ll let you fly around outside. I’m not a monster.” It blinks at you. “Well I have to tell him something! I can’t just stop speaking to him. I need him to know… It’s quite literally not him. It’s me. I’ll never deserve him… no matter how much I care… for him.” The bird lets out a sharp and short coo. “Fucking hell. You’re right. I love him. Gods damn it I love him so much. Oh this is going to be a nightmare.”

Schlatt sighs in frustration as he and his knights trudge to the castle. They’ve knocked on every single door in the kingdom and not a single one did you stand behind it. The sun was setting the knights stomachs were grumbling so Schlatt decided to call it a day and head back to the castle, determined to start again tomorrow.

He picks at his dinner, tossing and turning it over with his fork, giving half hearted replies to questions that he’s really not paying attention to. He can’t help but replay every interaction he’s had with you over again, followed closely by several notable interactions he had throughout the day. One where the woman had caked her face in flour hoping to prove herself to be the baker. Another that when she answered the door said “I am not interested!” with a smug smile, as if she really did something, and then slammed the door in his face. As if he would be interested in her? He very clearly was looking for someone.

His head is heavy with everyone he’s seen and spoken to today, he’s just ready to turn in for the night.

And then he hears it.

That beautiful coo he’s grown accustomed to listening for every day. The tell tale sign that you have sent him a letter. It’s Bob. Your carrier pigeon.

And he has a letter attached to his leg.

Schlatts posture instantly straightens and he holds out his finger, letting out a soft coo of his own. Everyone turned in confusion and watched Schlatt. Ted was about to speak before Bob landed on his fingers and stuck out his leg. Schlatt carefully took the rolled paper and fed the pigeon a couple nuts

Schlatt carefully unrolled the letter and began to read.

My dearest, Prince Charming,

I guess now that I know who you truly are it is only correct that I change the sir in your title to Prince. My prince… I had the most magical time last evening with you. Dancing around in your private garden is certainly something I will never forget and will always be grateful for. It was so incredibly sweet of you to give me your undivided attention.

It unfortunately has come to my own attention that I am not good for you. I do not deserve you my sweet prince. I could never be someone that you deserve. I am a simple orphan that happens to be good at baking. No matter how hard I would try, you would always be way out of my league.

I hope you find the love match that you seek. I hope you find someone good and kind, with a loving heart that will deserve you and be someone worthy of your love and care. Someone worthy of you throwing an entire ball for them. I don’t know how I ever thought I could be that person. I am so sorry…

I love you, Jonathon.

But you deserve so much more than me.

Yours,

Your name is signed at the bottom of the letter as it always is. He reads the second to last line, once, twice, a thousand times, until he’s convinced himself that it’s real. That you really wrote that you love him. He didn’t care about the other stuff that you wrote. Well he kind of did. But he knew it was bullshit. If anything it’s him who doesn’t deserve you.

If only he could find you to tell you this….

And then it hits him.

He springs up from the table and rushes out, startling everyone in the dining room with him. The pigeon flaps its wings and lands on his shoulder, used to being carted around. Schlatt runs to his room where he grabs a pen and paper of his own. He scribbles “I love you,” before snatching the shoe off the table and rushing outside. Ted and Charlie rush out behind him, confused at the rush.

“Schlatt, what are we doing?” They ask.

Schlatt elects to ignore them as he hands Bob the messily rolled piece of paper. “Here, Bob. Show me the way to them.” Bob takes the paper, coos softly, and takes off.

Schlatt instantly begins to race after the bird, Ted and Charlie following close behind. How relieved he was to finally find a way to find you. Bob would certainly lead him to you. He could only hope he could keep up with the bird.

Schlatt was feeling winded by the time he reached the small house on the edge that borders the kingdom and the forest. He hadn’t thought to make his way all the way out here, thinking you lived closer to the village with the way you walked to the market. Obviously he had been wrong.

Either way, he could only pray that Bob had led him to the right place.

He couldn’t tell if the tightness in his chest and the shortness of breath was just from him running all this way or if it was his nerves. He decided to call it ‘a bit of column a and a little of column b’ and call it a night.

The three approached the door, each taking deep breaths calming themselves from the journey taken to get here. Schlatt looks over his shoulder apprehensively at Ted and Charlie. He had knocked on over a hundred doors today, it didn’t make sense that this was the one he got nervous on.

His best friends each gave him an easy smile and a kind and encouraging nod, eager for the prince to knock. Schlatt turned back to the door, letting out a breath, shaking his arms out, before reaching up and giving a sturdy knock.

It’s silent on the other side of the door for a long moment. Schlatt’s heart pounds so hard in his chest he has to swallow hard to get it back down to his chest. The door know turns quickly and the door is pulled open and an older woman stands before him. He tries to not let his disappointment show, especially as surprise and utter delight paints her face.

The woman drops to a quick curtsy. “Your highness,” she greets. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard and it takes everything Schlatt has to not visibly recoil. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

A small bout of hope flutters down his spine causing Schlatt to stand straighter at the word “we.” “I am not sure if you have heard, but have been searching the entire kingdom for the one I danced with last night. Do you have any children, my lady?”

The woman brightens up even more and squares her shoulders back. “As a matter of fact I do. I have two.” The woman turns and cups her mouth. “GIRLS,” She hollers, causing the boys to shutter at the loud call.

Footsteps race across the wooden floor and two younger women appear. Schlatt feels a huge wave of disappointment was over his being as he looks at their faces and realizes they’re not you. He doesn’t hide his distaste as the girls push each other, trying to stand straighter and puff out their chest larger than the other.

“Neither of these young women are who I am looking forward… Does anyone else live here? A servant or a stable hand? Perhaps a cook?” Schlatt asks, taking a single step forward, looking around the room hoping for some kind of sign of you.

The woman’s face sours at the question before her mask gets put back in it’s place. “No one else, your highness. Although I can assure you, my daughters are perfectly suitable--”

“What’s that?” Schlatt interrupts as a noise sounds from one of the adjacent rooms. It sounded like metal being set down on a counter. “I thought you said no one else lived here.”

The woman swallows harshly and moves to stand in front of the door. “That… that is just the cook your highness, they do not live here… or at least soon will not,” she mutters the latter part with venom before turning back to Schlatt, a perfect smile posing on her lips. “No one to concern yourself with, truly.”

Any sense of trust for the woman is washed away when the scent hits his nose. He would be able to pick that scent out of a million different ones. It’s one of the best things he’s ever smelled.

He would be able to recognize the scent of your double chocolate chip cookies.

And he knows you’re in there.

“By order of the king, I demand you step aside.” He barely recognizes his voice as it escapes his lips. It’s deep and authoritative… damn as each day passes he sounds more and more like his father… he’ll have to correct that.

The woman opens his lips to protest.

Deciding he wants to hear no more of his voice, he gently pushes the woman’s shoulder out of the way. His hand finds the door knob and he throws open the door without care. He breath is ripped from his lungs as he sees the person who stands in the kitchen… in front of those unmistakable chocolate chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s you.”

The door slamming open scares the shit out of you.

The entire day you had been lost in your own head. You finished the letter and gave it to your pigeon to take to Schlatt. As soon as it had left your sight, you made your way to the kitchen in a daze where you let yourself begin baking whatever your heart was feeling in the moment.

It was only when you were beginning to clean up the batter dishes did you realize what you had made… and who you had made it for. You let yourself drift back into your head as you watched the cookies bake through the oven window. You knew you would probably never see him again. Especially not after this letter.

You took them out of the oven and let the pan clatter to the counter without much of a care. The soft cooing of your pigeon drew your attention away. You turned to greet it when you caught sight of the paper on it’s leg. Confusion fills you as you carefully take the paper.

I love you.

It can’t be.

The door bursts open, causing you to jump and whip around. Those damn fucking beautiful eyes. They always seem to follow you. To haunt you. Especially in your own house, those fucking chesnut brown eyes that say everything that you want to hear all without saying a word.

“It’s you.”

Oh fuck he’s actually here.

What the fuck?

What is he doing here???

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes don’t leave yours as he surges forward. One of his arms wraps around your waist, the other moving behind your neck, hand moving up to cradle the back of your head. “What are you doing here? Why did you run away?”

You stare at him in disbelief, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Did you not get my letter? I’m no good for you, Jon--Prince Schlatt, I do not deserve you, your highness. You deserve someone much better than me. Surely you--”

“Don’t you understand,” he whispers, cutting you off. “There is no one better.”

“But your highness--”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“You know what. Don’t call me that. That’s not my name. Not to you.”

You let out a sigh and rub your flour coated hands on your apron. “Jonathon.”

The smile that spreads across his face nearly makes you melt into a puddle. “There it is.” He murmurs, drawing his face closer to yours. “That’s my name.”

“Jonathon,” You repeat, trying to pull your blushing face away from his to no avail. You clear your throat and continue. “As per my letter, you deserve so much better than me. I am sure you can find someone-”

“Did you mean it?”

You look at him partly confused, partly annoyed at him continuing to interrupt you. “Mean what?”

“Did you mean it when you signed that you love me?”

Your heart stops in your chest. You forgot you said that part. You don’t think you would have said it had you known it would have caused him to come bursting into your kitchen. You look at him in disbelief, is he not hearing your words? He surely read the letter. Why is he being so insistent on this?

You could never lie to him though.

You clear your throat and move your shoulders back. You meet his eyes head on. “Yes. I did. But-”

“I love you too.”

The world stops again. “What?”

“As per my letter,” he says, a shit eating grin playing on his lips. The shock flowing through your body stops you from rolling your eyes. “I love you.”

You remember the small piece of paper that was surely on the floor now that you took from the pigeon just moments ago. Obviously that’s who the paper was from. You swallow hard. “Sure you can’t-”

“But surely I can. I think I’ve been in love with you ever since you called me a big petty man-baby who looked hotter now than I did before.”

“I… I…’”

“I love you,” He utters, moving impossibly closer to your face. “I always have. You are all I want. You deserve so much better than me… But I’m hoping you’ll lower your standards and settle for me anyway.”

His eyes shine so brightly. Those damn, fucking, beautiful eyes. They stare at you, hopeful, waiting with bated breath for your answer. They stare so intensely at you… You never want them to look away.

It’s you that closes the distance and presses your lips to his. He instantly responds, tugging you closer to his chest and kissing you back. The kiss makes your body sing in delight. The spark starts at the base of your spine where his hand connects to your body and shoots out, encasing you completely. From the tippity top of your head to the bippity bottom of your toes.

He consumes you. Completely. Totally. Entirely.

You pull away breathless from the kiss, meeting his eyes. “I love you, Jonathon. I want to be yours. Please. I want to be yours, if you’ll have me?”

Jonathon lets out a breathless laugh and shakes his head once. “Oh sweets, you’ve always been mine. I’ve always been yours. From the moment I met you. I’ve been hooked, sweets. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

He leans forward again and presses his lips to yours. You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

After you break apart again, Schlatt tells you to pack your things. You don’t have much here anyway so it doesn’t take you long. Your step family could only watch with crossed arms as you moved about, taking your things. You would miss the house you grew up in, but you were more than excited to begin your new journey.

Schlatt made Ted and Charlie help carry your things. Ted cursed at Schlatt for not thinking to grab a carriage or at least a horse in the pursuit of you. That spun a whole argument between the two, leaving you to converse with Charlie.

You gave the man a shy smile. “Sorry for throwing my shoe at you… I panicked about someone following me.

Charlie gives a chuckle and a smile. “It’s no worries. I’m just glad you made it home safely.”

“Yeah me too! The magic gave out and I was left carrying a huge ass pumpkin home… My back hurt like hell this morning.”

Charlie tilts his head and gives you a curious look. “Not what I meant… but I do want to hear more about this magic.”

“What did you mean then?”

Charlie doesn’t answer, his head simply moves to where Schlatt and Ted were now in a physical altercation, Schlatt attempting to put Ted in a chokehold.

A fuzzy feeling floods your chest.

He is your home… isn’t he?

Small Epilogue

The two of you marry quickly. The royal family welcome you with open arms. They help teach you the ways of the royals but never make you feel less than for being a commoner before the marriage. You never stop baking, you think Schlatt would throw a huge fit if you ever did. He constantly blamed you for his “twink death.” And although you’re not entire sure what that means, you’re sure that happened way before he met you.

You two love each other openly and loudly. It brings smiles to everyone’s faces to see the prince this lovey dovey with someone. There will always be those that disapprove, but Schlatt is there to hold your hand and tell them to fuck off.

He reminds you he loves you every single minute of every single day… you think maybe he lays it on a little thick in particular when he wants you to bake something in particular. You never mind though. It’s your baked goods that brought you together in the first place.

Who are you to deny your love the thing that the two of you bonded over first?

Especially when he loves you with every fiber of his being…

…and maybe even more so when you make him chocolate chocolate chip cookies…

And they lived happily ever after. The End

As per usual, I am shit at writing endings. Thank you for reading my 16.3k word self indulgent fic <3

Leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyeddddd

okay byeeeeeeee back to my several year hiatusssss

im still on tumblr even if i don't post my writing so you can always message meeeeeeee <3

byeeeeeeeeee <3

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winter-sol · 10 months

Text

no shame

*word count: 7k *pairing: afab! reader / leviathan *contents: ! NSFW minors pls dni. pegging. anal sex. demon form/monsterfucking. begging. submissive levi. degrading. praising. handjob. tail-fucking. leviathan has two dicks. reader has afab anatomy and it's described as such. porn with feelings. cheesy ending, i can't help it. (no beta, pls forgive any mistake) *summary: Leviathan gets his ass fucked with a strap-on in his demon form. You give him the right balance between degrading and loving him 🖤 *a/n: guess who's back (?) this fic had been hiding in my drafts for about 5 months while being like 95% completed. i figured it had the right to be finished and see the light. i enjoyed way too much writing it, so pls enjoy it with me uwu

also at ao3 here 🖤

“It’s okay, hey. It’s okay. Look at me”.

The soothing sound of your words resonates deeply within him, and like a fresh intake of air, you are able to calm his nerves if only slightly.

Certainly, he doesn’t remember the last time he was in that position, so… exposed and vulnerable. But his excitement is stronger and there’s no way he’s stopping this now that you two decided to give it a try.

“MC…” He says your name while he lifts a timid hand and touches your chest, fingers slowly running down you soft skin from your breasts to your belly in an electrifying sensation that tingles through your spine with the way he softly rubs in small circles, as much as he can reach, before continuing to travel lower.

He shyly looks up to you, directly meeting your gaze, and the tenderness that finds you in there would almost look out of place with such a delicate expression if it weren’t for the darkness that’s starting to engulf the color of his eyes. Then, his index and middle finger move to brush over the length of the soft, pastel pink dildo attached to your hips with a touch that seems so delicate but hides an enticing intention. You’re unable to look away.

In a captivating gesture, his finger gets to the tip, and he gives it a faint caress, circling the head in a movement so gentle and full of desire you barely forget to breathe from anticipation.

Shit.

You grab his hand and take it to the length of the toy, and placing your own above his, you guide it to embrace the thick girth and move it down in a firm but steady grip, letting him feel the texture and size of it.

“Mmm… Fuck…” He lets out in a breathy voice, closing his eyes and clearly enjoying what he’s touching. The big, imposing toy was chosen carefully between the two of you for this special occasion, with the sole purpose of meeting Leviathan’s strict demands. The length, girth and texture had to be perfect, for it to touch and stimulate his sensitive zones maximizing the pleasure. As the pervert he is, it could only be an extra-large sized dildo with a rugous texture on its borders.

Just by touching it with his fingers he can feel already excited to be fucked with it, by you precisely, in your room, within this intimate and comfortable space for the two of you.

You carefully observe how Levi gets turned on watching and touching the toy, and you feel the need to start to advance in the act. You reach out for the lube near the border of the bed and pour a generous amount on the tip. The transparent liquid is smeared into your palm and you pass it through the length of the dildo, covering it with the substance and easing the movement through it.

Your hands keep a steady pace, up and down, and even though you can’t feel a thing, the action is erotic enough to make your own body respond to it, your pussy moistening in expectation as you look at how Leviathan’s eyes are set on you, hypnotized. He’s laying on his back completely exposed in his demonic form, and the desire that runs strongly through you wants to have more of him, to feast on what he’s offering so generously.

“Baby… Now I want to touch you some more… Can I?" Your voice comes out low and sultry, impressing you a bit by its intensity. His eyes look for yours again, and after studying your expression, he gives you a shy smile, looking away with a red face.

“Y-Yeah… Please…”

You let go of his hand and proceed to accommodate yourself above him, brushing your fingers over his naked torso. Ah, it’s always a sight to behold, the strong muscles he always keeps hidden rising as his back arches when you touch him. You hear his heavy breathing and how he hums in delight.

Your hand goes down greedily until you get closer to his crotch, his untouched hard cocks demanding attention as they stand big and glistening under the lights. Bewitched by the sight, you don’t think twice and palm one of his erections, the upper one, making him gasp at the motion.

“A-Ah! MC!”

It’s cute how desperate he can get, how touch starved he is. Funnily, it’s not like you’re any different with how much you need him all the time but seeing him like this will always have a strong effect on you. Lust immediately takes over you, and you decide to please him as your touch gets stronger, grabbing his erection fully with a firm grip.

A high-pitched cry comes out of him as your already soaked hand feasts in his ecstasy. As always, you can’t help but notice how big your demon is, your hand seeming so small and delicate compared to the huge, monstrous cock it’s holding. Sensing your mouth watering a bit, you admire the deliciously perfect sight beneath you, his face already red and expressive as he longingly looks at what you’re doing.

You let him go for a moment, getting a discontent grunt in return. “Patience, love,” you say as you grab the lube once more and pour it messily on both of his dicks. The coldness must’ve been unpleasant since it makes him hiss, but as soon as your hand touches him again, he relaxes and lets himself go with the sensation.

You stroke your fingers over his lower one and you feel it twitch under the attention it’s finally receiving. Repeating the act, Leviathan nests his head on the pillow and his gaze sets to the ceiling, weakened by the weight of the pleasure he starts to feel, letting out an airy and silent groan. His neck is left exposed as inviting you, skin creamy and lightly shiny by the sweat it’s starting to appear in there.

At seeing how much he’s feeling it, you tease that one for a couple of seconds, pressing into its length and dragging it through it until you finally decide to indulge him some more and grab both on each hand.

“Ah, fuck! Ah…” The loud, clear whine echoes through the walls as his eyes now close tightly for a second and he bites his lower lip. He opens his heavy eyes once again and looks at you with a needy expression, whispering “M-More…”

You can’t help but smirk at his reaction, your own want growing and making you a bit more desperate too. Motivated by his petition, you start to move your hands slow but firmly in a tight grip, smooth by the lubricant. Light squelching sounds start to be noticeable with the wet and slippery movements of your hands on his hot dicks, Leviathan’s breathing turning faster and heavier as his eyes close and he unconsciously spreads even further his toned thighs, losing himself in the pleasant sensation.

The sight of his exquisite body completely naked beneath you, so submissive and given, is irresistible, driving your head to become dizzy from lust for him. The sensation of his two inhuman cocks in your hands is unholy as they move driven only by the purpose of filling the powerful demon with ecstasy, who can’t stop letting out soft and impure moans with every assault to his body, as in a completely deliriant state that’s out of his control while his long snake tail is swaying, wrinkling the sheets below.

A petty desire grows and burns intensely in your sex at the lewd display, but for now is ignored as this is for him, for his pleasure, for you to see how much you can ruin him and soothe him in the same night. You guess you’ll have your chance to find your own release later, so you choose to not worry for now and focus on him.

You notice how his beautiful lashes flutter and he opens his eyes slowly, unfocused gaze searching disoriented before setting his gaze on you for a few seconds, locking it on you. Then, he looks away distracted by something.

“What is it, love? Am I hurting you?”

“Ah… No, I…” He looks around some more. “Could you pass me the lube?”

So he was looking for that. Intrigued, you stop your ministrations for a moment as you follow his order, handing him the small bottle that he receives without meeting your eyes again. He opens the lid and pours some on his index and middle finger, rubbing them to warm the liquid, clearly letting you know his next movement.

He tosses the botte aside with blushed cheeks and… Wait, is he really avoiding your gaze? Does he have the audacity to feel ashamed right now? Whatever is happening inside his mind, he ends up anyways placing his fingers over his entrance, starting to tease it himself.

He closes his eyes, and his brow is somewhat furrowed while he concentrates on the motion, toying with his hole in slow, soft movements to begin the preparation for the intrusion that’s to come.

You notice he doesn’t take too long easing the muscle and he starts to push his fingers in his hole, his fired up body having responded already to this foreplay, lubricating and dilating where he needs it.

“Everything ok? What do I do to help?” you say awkwardly. You’ve read stuff like this before but honestly, what do you even know about doing this to a man, or demon, in real life?

“I-I’m fine… I’ve done this before plenty of times. Just… don’t stop… what you were doing, please…” He finishes that sentence in a lower volume, almost whispering.

“Ok… Just tell me anything you need…” You answer as your hands resume its movements, though in a much lighter grip so he can concentrate while still receiving a tender tickle of pleasure.

He’s not much better than you, it seems. Even if he has played with himself before, used toys and all, he is as inept as you at doing with someone else like this. You let it go and keep touching his erections while he teases himself. Of course, you can’t help but look, curiosity and desire making it unable to look away as he enters two fingers while you keep attending him with your hands.

His fingering is careful and slow, taking his time in accommodating the action. You watch as he enters them deeper and makes circulating movements stretching it open, and after a moment, searching for a sensation he knows very well. Levi covers his mouth with a hand as he fondles a sensitive spot inside, letting out a surprised moan and his body giving a small shiver.

The sound of his sweet and desperate sound makes you feel drunk from desire, and you can’t help getting closer to his warm body, the musky scent that emanates from him becoming increasingly more intoxicating while you position your face in front of his, and press a soft kiss on his lips that he receives with complete submission. You let go one of his erections in order to support your arm by the side of his head, cleaning your hand just enough with the sheet before bringing it closer to his wet bangs and moving them softly, brushing them back from his forehead and uncovering his mesmerizing face. He turns his gaze back to you and whispers close to your mouth, “W-What are you doing?”

Smiling, you answer while caressing his forehead and his temple. “Nothing, I just wanted to see your pretty face, hehe”. You press another wet kiss to his mouth, and then you start to cover his lips and the skin around them with soft pecks. “I love you so much… You’re going to give yourself to me, right?”

Levi enjoys each one of your kisses, without presenting any resistance. His body shivers from the satisfaction it's receiving from your attention and his own fingers working inside him. Between little moans, he says with a faint, thirsty voice, “Y-Yes… I’m yours right now… Don’t stop kissing me, please…”

With those words, you proceed to claim his mouth passionately, in a long, wet kiss, your tongue assaulting his and slowly licking it, the movement of your other hand on his cock now faster. He responds with the same intensity, melting in the heat and pleasure as his own movements gain more speed.

Frantically, he fucks himself with his long digits, thrusts sharp and deep, breaking the kiss to catch his breath. His sunset gaze is set on you as his body starts filling with pleasure until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore as he keeps nudging his sweet spot. A throaty grunt comes out while the merciless pace fills the room with filthy, wet sounds from the lube and his own fluids. “Fuck… Ah!”

And after a moment, you watch as he decides to slow down the action to restrain himself before he surrenders to his own enjoyment too soon.

“Ah… I think that’s enough,” he murmurs in between pants. “I… I can… take more…” His voice is low and slightly shy as he pronounces those words, clearly conveying what he wants next.

“O-Ok... Just in case, do you wanna start with a smaller one?” You ask carefully, wanting to make sure he’s ready for it.

“No, no, don’t worry... I can take it, I’m sure.” He says with more confidence in his tone, but still not directly looking at you. You smile at his impatience and decide to tease him. “Of course. My little baby has put who knows how many things in there, hasn’t he? Haha.”

He gives you a startled look “You- You have to do that now? I-Idiot, I’m gonna take revenge, you know?”

You laugh at his words, his tsundere demeanor never failing to be as ridiculous as endearing, and you kiss his cheek with a wet peck before softly telling him “I’ll be waiting for that then”.

You sit back to prepare for what’s coming next. Once you get a view from above, you can see the wrecked state he’s into. His silky hair is disheveled around his imponent black and blue horns, staring at you between narrowed eyes and blushed cheeks, and his velvety, moist lips slightly parted that seem to invite you to kiss them one more time. A thin layer of sweat covers his large body, rising and falling with his heavy breathing, his legs spread and his arms weakly lying at each side as his long and thick tail encircles his perfect frame above the bed, the tip swaying in delicate waves.

You suddenly feel small and pathetic above such a sight, how can you even fuck him? You, a mere human, who’s about two heads shorter than him. He has the strength to break you in a second, yet he’s offering himself to you right now with the most sinful and tempting sight you could’ve imagined. It must look so funny from the outside. How in the world could you be so lucky? You don’t understand.

Still, this is no time to overthink, and giving yourself some courage, you reach once again for the poor discarded bottle of lube. You spread more content on the pink dildo, smearing it through the length with one hand while, with the other, you reach for his thigh, caressing his soft skin to let him know you’re there with him, for what’s to come now. A lazy smile decorates his beautiful features as he pierces you with his intense eyes.

After you deem it’s ready, you position yourself above him, setting the toy near his entrance. You hear him sigh in anticipation while you place the tip, pressing lightly into him.

“Are you ok…?” you ask sheepishly.

“Y-Yeah… Are you?”

“…I think I am.” You pause, inhaling slowly to fill your lungs with air and get ready. “I… I’ll put it in.”

His voice is quiet and sweet, waiting patiently. “Ok…”

You enter the toy slowly into him, burying it deeper while you look at his expression for any sign of discomfort. It’s thick and long so you worry for a second, but he seems relaxed enough, his eyes closing softly while it happens, like he knew exactly what to anticipate. It seems like his body gives into it without much resistance, helping to calm your own nerves. You wish you could be… cooler right now. More dominant since that’s what Levi likes, what he’s really into. But you need to trust him, if he says he wants you, you’ll give it to him and hopefully get enough into it for both of your enjoyment.

As the toy is almost all the way in, you stop for him to accommodate to its thicker girth near the base. His breath is faster, but he opens his eyes and looks at you through a heavy gaze. You caress his thighs while you wait, and after some seconds, he speaks.

“I’m fine. You can move… please.” His tone is sweet and peaceful, enjoying from early on what’s happening. The small connection of this moment feels like an intimate secret only to share between the two of you. It soothes your nerves and impulses you to keep going, to give him what he’s asking.

With a fresh and warm determination, you obey his wish. “S-Sure. I’ll… move.”

You rock your hips back in control, not wanting to hurt him in any way, and once it’s almost all the way out, you push inside again up to the brim, feeling how he lets out a small, soft grunt in satisfaction at being filled like that.

Taking it as an invitation to continue, you establish a steady, slow pace, guiding yourself by his little initial reactions. As he's getting used to the movement of your hips, his brow furrows and he gasps softly, gradually starting to get consumed by the pleasing sensation that washes over him.

“Ah… Yeah, just like that…” Between small moans, Levi orders you to continue like this, his body muscles tensing a bit when you strike deep inside, but eventually he relaxes and surrenders to the sweet, thick sensation, his cheeks even redder and his luscious lips parted and his sounds escape from him. You concentrate on giving him a good time, studying his body language and noises as you keep rocking your hips at a steady pace, sinking into him over and over again. You can only trust in his words and hope you’re doing it well.

“Ah! MC… faster, go faster, please.”

For some reason, hearing him begging is doing many things to you. He’s so cute like this you want to wreck him, corrupt him even further, make him an even more sinful, wicked existence. Fuck his brains out until he’s crying your name.

You thrust harder this time, fastening the motion, hitting deep into him with each jolt of your hips. A throaty moan escapes from him as you hit his sensitive spot, singing your name in a sweet tone that hits directly into your own groin. You feel yourself getting more turned on and wet as you sense his reactions, wanting to drive rougher into him, to make that pretty blushed face corrupt in fervor.

If only you could feel him, feel his tight, hot walls squeezing the fake dick you’re penetrating him with, to feel the hotness that engulfs it. You can’t, you fucking can’t, but you’re so into it you simply need to set a frantic pace while you pound into him with all your strength to have that connection. To hell with it. Even if you can’t, you’ll make him feel it, you’ll force him to let you know how it feels. He’s yours right now, and no one else can ever give it to him.

“Ah! Ah, MC! Fuck, yes, just like that!” he whines loudly, his head thrown back and his torso arched as he falls more and more into rapture. You grab his thighs on each side, lifting them and grabbing them in a tight, violent grip while you plunge into him, nails burying into his creamy skin, glistening under the warm lights of the candles at the tree. You’ll never see a more ethereal, more immoral thing ever again. He’s absolutely perfect underneath you.

“You like that? Is that what you like? Hard and fast? Are you that dirty and indecent, Third Ruler of Hell?” Your voice is hoarse as you fall into rapture, suddenly not afraid anymore to talk to him like that.

“A-Aahhh, yes! MC! Please, give it to me!” He responds eagerly to your degradation, like the big fucking pervert he is. He desperately grabs the sheets as he surrenders to you, his face of pure ecstasy with heavy, rolled-back eyes and sweat glistening on his forehead and neck while you ram into him.

Provoked by his euphoric response to your brutality, you release one of his legs to bring your hand to his neck, pressing just below his jaw but without completely choking, not daring yet to do something like that. The moment you grab tightly to keep his neck in place, Levi lets out a choked and indecent sound of pleasure, enjoying immediately being subjected this way. “Aahhh… MC~”, he says with an exalted, shivering voice, the air from his ragged breathing is warm from his smiling mouth.

“Do you really enjoy me having you like that? Restrained and submitted while I’m fucking you hard? And you’re supposed to be an Admiral? How pathetic and disgusting you are, Leviathan…” You can’t help laughing at insulting him like that, especially when he only lets out another moan at your supposedly hurtful words.

“G-Grand Admiral, but yes… I am pathetic and disgusting, that’s what I am, right? A repulsive, creepy pervert, yet you still love me, right? Haaah, MC…” He says with a voice almost maddened from pleasure while he enjoys the grip of your hand and your hard movements inside him, hitting his most sensitive parts over and over again, filling him deep to the bottom.

Now a wicked smile decorates your face, losing yourself in the delicious spectacle your demon is offering you, his perversion and arousal filling you with desire for more. He really is a depraved otaku, but you can only feel a light heat in your chest when you hear how he wants to be reassured of your love even at a moment like this. “Yes… I love you… You, being a degenerate and all… You are mine, right?”

“Hmm!” Levi arches his back when a certain thrust hits right into his sweetest spot, and when you notice his reaction, you aim at it vigorously, hitting over and over again as he starts letting out a flow of high-pitched whines in a delicious staccato that resonates over the walls of your room. “Yes! I’m all yours, aah! Keep going, please, keep going right there, please!” He moans while you see his face contort with ecstasy, surrendering to you.

Answering his pleading, you give him what he asked with a few more pushes until you stop your actions and release his tense jaw, cutting him out of his pleasure in a cruel and sadistic act that makes him scream. “W-What are you doing?! N-No… D-Don’t stop,” he says with a begging gaze, quickly filling with tears of frustration at your lack of movement, “Please, n-no…”

His desperation is so adorable that you can only smile lovingly while you rub his sweaty forehead and his red cheeks. “Shh, shh, it’s ok, don’t cry, my love. I’m still here.” You whisper for him to ease his tension and relax a little bit, a small sob escaping his throat, but he decides to maintain his eyes on you while he tries to calm down and convince you. “I need you, please, please, keep going, don’t be mean… I love you, keep going, please.”

You give him a few sweet little kisses to his cheeks, one on the tip of his nose and another soft one on his lips. “I’ll keep going, Levi, I just need you to be good and listen to what I’ll say now, ok?” At the promise to continue, he can only nod desperately and beg a bit more, “Y-Yes, whatever you say, just do it, please…”

Sitting back and pulling away reluctantly from his warm and inviting body, you pull out the toy from inside him, which makes him let out a broken cry as if he was being deprived of the air he needs. “N-No…” he says now, releasing a couple of tears. The truth is, it’s not like you are necessarily a sadistic person, but the thing is it’s him who drives you to be this way right now, especially when he gets like this. But you know you wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t because he really enjoys It, he enjoys the desperation and the loss of control, and in this moment, you crave that control more than anything.

Smiling warmly at him, you instruct, “Turn around, my love, I want you on your knees and elbows right in front of me.” His eyes widen when he understands what you want, and with the little strength he can collect, he follows your orders and turns his back on you, exquisitely presenting you his ass and his broad back, a drop of sweat running down his neck. “L-Like this, right?”, he looks back at you expectantly and hopes to meet his lover’s expectations.

“Yeah, just like that. What a good boy you are… Hehe.” You tell him with a giggle while you position behind him, your hands running over the skin of his round butt and pulling out a shiver from his body. “Ahh…” he moans in approval while you start to rub circles through his cheeks and then squeeze them greedily with your hands. His tail undulates in a soft wave-like movement as he enjoys the attention you’re giving his ass, and you place one of your hands to the base of the appendage to give it a slow caress with two of your fingers, making him shudder and let out some small, choked moans.

“Y-You’re teasing… haha,” he says with a breathy, pained voice, arching his back to give you more access. “Hurry… up…”

At his attempt to order you around, you decide to punish him immediately with a slap to his cheek, the loud sound of your hand against his skin sounding through all the room along his whine of pain and pleasure that interrupts any word he was aiming to say. “Oh? You were saying something? Don’t be disrespectful, Leviathan.”

He bows his head and bites his lip at the demonstration of power, feeling a wicked desire for more humiliation. “Y-Yes…” he says before gulping, the movement of his torso showing how heavy his breathing is right now, “B-But… I can’t promise to behave… haha…” he dares to say with a soft, high voice before letting out a giggle sick from lust.

He really sounds delicious when you turn him desperate like that, and before you answer, you decide to claim him yours. With your other hand, you align the tip of the dildo with his ass again, making him choke in a whimper. “Ah, I see… You don’t want to keep your dignity at all… It’s ok, if that’s what you want so badly, you disgusting little fuck,” you pronounce before easily inserting the toy in his already open entrance, wet by his fluids and the lube, receiving it once again without any resistance.

“Ohhh, yes… Please, fill me, love,” he whispers, absolutely surrendered to the sensation, forgetting any other comeback he had in his mind a second ago. Once you put the dildo all the way in, it doesn't take long for you to start moving your hips, pulling it out and pushing it inside repeatedly while you grab his ass with your hands to steady yourself and hold him closer to your hips as you keep fucking him. You notice how he begins to lose himself in pleasure as he drops his weight on the bed, leaving only his back half in the air and burying his face in the pillow, drowning his loud, beautiful moans in it.

You focus your concentration on his pleasure, on how his body trembles and moves alongside yours in total synchronization, his hips and thighs slamming against yours over and over again, the sound of skin hitting skin loud and dirty. Just to enjoy his reaction, you decide to add another sound to the symphony by slapping his butt again, Levi letting out a scream as his cheek turns red from the violent action. "More! Give me more! “Nggh…!” he says desperately, asking you for more of the brutality that you don't hesitate for a second to give him again. “Yeah? Is that how much of a bitch you’re going to be with me?” You pronounce hotly before repeating the action two, three times, causing him to raise his head only to breathe easier between ecstatic grunts.

“Come here,” you whisper almost hatefully as you reach out to grab Leviathan by his hair and bring him towards you, lifting his body and supporting him with your other arm, circling it through his slim waist and positioning your hand on his abs. Your fingers in his damp hair grip the strands tightly, pulling it in an act of pure subjugation of the demon that he lets himself enjoy while his eyes narrow and roll back, his half-open mouth letting out small gasps.

You suddenly feel his tail start wrapping around your leg first, and then by your hips simply to touch you a little bit more, deliciously rubbing his scaly texture against your body that you didn't know needed attention so badly until now. The tip naughtily approaches your crotch, and you honestly have no idea how Levi bothers to do it while he seems to be delirious from the sensations he's receiving, but you greatly appreciate it when he touches your clit, making you tremble with pleasure, interrupting your movements. That does not go unnoticed by the demon who, unable to turn back to look at you from the grip on his hair, tells you softly and sweetly, “You like that, right? Keep going, love… I will take care of you...”

“...” You’re speechless for a second. This idiot has no right to make you feel so warm inside while you fuck him right in the ass, but he does. He does, and it makes your desire to finish him and ruin him even stronger. You resume your movements immediately, the pleasure beginning to fill you, motivating your hips even more as you thrust hard and deep, the tingling sensation of your own ecstasy making you join his chorus of moans and pants.

The hand that was holding his abdomen now goes down, and you take as much of his two huge penises as you can to give him the satisfaction he deserves for being so adorable, so him. Smiling maniacally and pulling his hair towards you, you begin to whisper close to his ear, encouraging him to find his satisfaction and finish. “Do it, my love, come. You are so beautiful and perfect, give it to me, come for me…”

"Mmm! Yes… Aah! MC! I'm close…!" The demon cries loudly as you penetrate him hard, his voice now raspy from whining so desperately. The contrast between the rough sex and your now sweet words make him lose his mind immensely. Your hips slam again and again, impaling him with the long, thick dildo that stimulates every part of his insides, the wet, slippery sounds only exciting you more to continue doing it, bringing your demon closer to his climax as he is being stimulated by both sides, your hand desperately pumping his erections wet by pre-come. You let go of his hair in order to caress his warm chest now, touching his nipples and squeezing them in an action done only to get the greatest amount of pleasure out of him, his sweet and desperate moans pointing out the fact that he is already on the verge of collapsing.

With the little consciousness left inside him, he makes sure his tail can give you a fair amount of the pleasure he’s receiving, and it slides forcefully between your folds, stimulating your clit over and over again before sliding the tip inside you, now fucking you while the wetness through all your cunt and nub makes your head dizzy with pleasure. Before you can come, you make sure it’s his turn first.

After a few more pounds, a loud and clear cry comes out of his throat, his body completely tense as he finally reaches his orgasm, deafened and dizzy from the intensity of it. A huge flow of liquid and almost transparent cum releases from both of his cocks that shamelessly stains the sheets of your bed and your hands, the slippery moisture serving as a great lubricant while you accompany him and pump him to finish his climax, the movement of your pounding in his ass now starting to calm down until you stop in order to not overstimulate the mess of a demon right now.

Leviathan’s body cannot support itself anymore, so you hold him up with your hand on his chest, the weight making the position difficult until you begin to let him slowly lower himself towards the bed, his mind completely blank and his body falling in his post-orgasmic state as only pants can be heard from him. You remove the dildo from his hole to let him lie down and rest weakly on the bed, as he also retires his tail from you. You miss the sensation immediately, but decide to wait for him to compose himself before you ask anything from him again.

As you take off the harness, you suddenly realize how tired you are, lying down next to him and wrapping your arm around his waist while you watch his heavy breathing begin to calm down. Smiling, you lean in to kiss his temple, and he turns to look at you softly, the unnaturally bright orange of his eyes resting on you. In one slow movement, you guide him to your chest, resting his head on it as you pet his hair and his horns, which makes him jump and laugh a little.

“I don't think I have any words,” he says in a husky voice before giving you a couple of pecks on your collarbone, and then adds “That was simply incredible… Holy shit, MC, haha…”

“I'm glad... Oh, and don't forget that you're not pathetic or disgusting, if you believe that shit I'll punch you.”

Leviathan chuckles softly as he wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles into you even more. “I know… I trust you and I love you.”

Being filled with bliss, you hug him back and kiss his sweaty forehead. A few minutes pass like this, but the heat of his body is simply so pleasant that you lose yourself in it a little, pressing him harder against your chest and nuzzling his hair sweetly, a hint of desire escaping and reminding you that you’re still missing your own climax.

The demon notices your craving immediately, your hot body and your need for more physical contact revealing that you are still aroused. Levi lets out a playful giggle and says in a whisper, “I think I still have to take care of you, right? It would be cruel to leave you like this…”

“Ah… I can't help it, sorry,” you say in a strangely embarrassed voice, which is too adorable for him. He subtly moves his face up to look at you and smiles, whispering deliciously, “Don't apologize for anything, MC… I'm yours and you're mine… Let me just… give it to you…”

The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, but more than anything it's the strong anticipation that fills you right now. You smile back and bring his face closer to yours to give him a warm kiss that quickly turns passionate and wet, your tongues intertwining irresistibly. His arms wrap around you while your hands caress his hair, massaging his scalp full of devotion.

“Levi… Anything… Give me anything you can,” you say in a voice almost pained with hunger and desire as your eyes slowly close overwhelmed, to avoid looking at him so closely now that you're giving him the control. "Yes my love. Don't worry, Levi will take care of you,” he responds with almost the same intensity, but also happy to give you back even a part of everything you just gave him.

With a silent and sinister movement, you feel his tail again enveloping your thigh and rubbing your entrance, making you jump a little and let out a soft whine. “L-Levi…!” He looks at you studying your reaction while the tip of the scaly appendage begins to delightfully rub against your wet folds once again, satisfied to get that response out of you so quickly. “You like my tail… No matter what you say, you are as perverted as me…”

“H-Hey, don't insult me like that- Ah! Mmm…” you are able to answer him not so eloquently before you begin to give in to the pleasure. “...It's because it's perfect... You are perfect...”

He can't help but feel tremendously praised and content to receive those words, almost blushing as he usually does at any open display of affection from your part, but right now, that warmth only encourages him more to satisfy you and bring you to your climax. His tail continues to move playfully between your legs, stimulating on the outside before entering again, using its flexibility in order to touch everywhere it can reach, eliciting a string of sweet breathy moans from you. Right now, it sounds irresistible to his ears.

The sensation is simply too delicious, the tickling under your skin and the sensuality of the movements quickly taking you to the peak of your pleasure as you can only cry his name, still caressing and gripping his hair lovingly and desperately. One of his hands stops embracing you as he takes it to your abdomen, touching and fondling your stomach in small circles before traveling up to your breasts. He touches them gently at first, brushing the palm of his hand gently over your erect nipples, then rubbing them with his fingers. You let out a soft groan as he pinches one of the nubs, and then shamelessly squeezes your tit with his palm while he places a moist kiss to your jaw. The mixture of pleasant sensations becomes quickly too much for you.

“Ah! Levi, I’m… I’m coming…” you warn him some seconds before the inevitable, his voice a whisper of sweet nothings right in your ear. “Do it, come for me. You are so beautiful, so perfect, I love you. Don’t ever leave me, you’re mine forever, I love you…”

His cheesy words would make you hide ashamed in another context, but right now they only bring you to your orgasm while his tail, devoid of any mercy, continues to move strongly in your pussy, abusing your clit and rubbing the sweetest places inside you. You can't help the loud sounds that escape your throat, a high-pitched cry that Levi would drown out if he only reached and claimed your lips with his, but he decides to let the sound envelop him and enjoy the exquisite voice of your pleasure. Suddenly, you can only see white as your eyes shut and you feel your consciousness escape while your climax takes over you, the only thing grounding you to this place is the demon holding you against him.

“Yeah, that's right, just like that… Look at you, you're so warm and beautiful, my love…” He whispers while you convulse, caressing your thigh as his tail finally leaves your crotch, freeing you from any over-stimulation and letting you catch your breath. Heavy pants come out of your mouth while you fall completely limp on the sheets, letting yourself be cuddled by Levi, who’s tenderly pecking your face with little kisses before placing his face between your shoulder and your neck, letting you rest. “Yeah… so perfect and adorable,” he keeps murmuring.

…

Slowly, your thoughts come back into coherent shape, and all you can think about is how talkative he gets, especially when he's this excited. This man just won't shut the fuck up. Ever. But it’s fine, his voice is comforting in these moments of intimacy. With a slight smile, you kiss his sweaty forehead, convinced that you're not in much better shape. Everything is so warm and comfortable as he said, his body against yours feels like a comforting dream.

“That was fun, don't you think? Although I must admit… it makes me cringe a little now remembering-” You pause as you’re filled with sudden embarrassment. “Aaahhh, I'm sorry for saying so many strange things,” you tell him, strangely nervous. But he turns to look at you with an expression... similar to yours, his big eyes seeming to finally become aware of everything that happened.

“N-No, I-I, ahhh!” he says embarrassed as well, his face turning impossibly redder. “N-No, b-but no matter what, I won’t regret it! It was amazing! All I ever wanted! You are amazing and aaaggghhh-!” He blurts out to you, trying to reassure both of you that there is no reason to be ashamed, although his exaggerated expression is even more embarrassing to look at. You stare at him and laugh lightly. Nothing like a good cringey moment from Levi to forget your own discomfort.

“Okay, okay, baby… Everything's okay, haha…” you say with a softer voice as you press in to hug him closer and bury your face in his chest, hiding. You feel him embrace you back with an awkward giggle, both of you ignoring for now the deplorable state you're in and the need for a shower.

A smile decorates your face as you remember all you got to see and hear from him today. You strongly believe there’s no way this will be the first and last time you do this. Not after you had so much fun, despite the cringe.

There is still so much more you have to experience together. And you can’t wait for it.

#this is a long fic for being pure smut but you've been warned #obey me leviathan #obey me #obey me levi #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me fanfic #leviathan smut #leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #the title is more for me y'all don't know how challenging this was to make so i needed some big ass determination and zero shame #i'm satisfied with the result tho #Winter writes

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