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tsukimefuku · 5 months

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the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties ��would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery.

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him.

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long.

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage.

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it?

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago.

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling.

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip.

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary.

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself.

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days.

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.”

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity.

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic.

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you.

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt.

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t... We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable.

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else.

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips.

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?”

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves.

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering.

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline.

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed.

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it.

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again.

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you.

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him.

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him.

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out.

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it.

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so.

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face.

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.”

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

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plaguechyld · 1 year

Text

Omega!Sub!Douma x Alpha!GN!Reader

Content includes: Heavy sexual topics, Omega/Alpha dynamic, Sub!Douma, Dom!Reader, Marking, Male heat cycles, Somewhat rough sex (Douma receiving), Mean!Reader, Douma has a pussy and reader has a dick.

Extra: This is set in the Omegaverse but will have absolutely no non con or dub con as many fics in this sub genre have. This is 100% consented to by both parties.

Extra Extra: I’m down HORRENDOUSLY for omega Douma.. Y’all got no idea Istg. 😭

Usually Douma is completely on top of his heat cycles, but this one had hit him suddenly and without warning. It made him cancel his evening prayer session so he could lock himself in his room and quite literally fling himself onto his king sized bed. His normally pale cheeks were flushed red as sweat rolls down his forehead and neck. He squirmed pitifully on the deep red comforter, struggling to get his clothes off. When he finally managed to get his clothes off he instantly felt slick dripping down his inner thigh.

His whimpers were muffled as he bit into the blankets, not wanting someone to hear him while another strong wave of heat rolled through his body. He shuddered pathetically, not able to keep his pheromones in check like he normally could.

“W-what’s wrong with me.. Why is this so sudden..” He thought to himself while weakly grabbing onto the blankets. He reached his fingers down to his already sopping pussy and began to quickly finger himself, trying to get some relief. His legs shake badly while he shudders involuntarily. His fingers curled inside of himself as he thrusted them directly into his g-spot. He bit back moan after moan as he felt himself growing closer to his climax. Slick gushed out as he picked up his pace even more. At this point his blonde hair was sticking to his forehead and his face was flushed red.

After what felt like forever he finally climaxed, releasing all over his fingers. He expected that it should quell his heat for at least a little bit, but he was surprised when the feelings didn’t die down at all. He shuddered after feeling another wave of heat roll over his body. Tears pricked at his kaleidoscope colored eyes as he closed them tightly.

Suddenly, he could feel a presence somewhere in his temple. Whoever it was, they were getting closer and closer to his room. Douma sucked in a shaky breath, whoever this was was clearly a Demon Slayer. This was exactly what he didn’t need, and he wasn’t sure if he could kill the slayer because of the state he was in. He shook slightly, not out of fear but out of… excitement? The slayer they were an alpha. His heightened senses could feel it, it was making him release even more pheromones to try and draw them in, which was not going to help.

Suddenly, the door was flung open, revealing the slayer. You had beautiful h/c hair and sharp e/c eyes. You stopped momentarily and inhaled sharply at the sweet scent quite literally seeping from Douma. He blinked his rainbow eyes pitifully at you, a pout forming on his lips.

“Please… Can you help m-me..” Douma slurred out, already shifting to try to get closer to you. You were currently fighting back against your instincts that were telling you to tend to the omega. You blinked when you felt yourself being pulled closer to the bed by icy vines however your instincts were keeping you from trying to fight back and leave. When you were close enough to the bed the vines vanished and you were met by Douma desperately clinging to your waist, rubbing his cheek against you. You let out a shaky sigh but despite yourself, rubbed his head. Douma let out a loud whine at the friction, despite how small it was.

“Mm.. th-that feels good..” Douma murmurs softly, pulling you closer to him. He eventually gets you to sit on his bed while he hugs you tightly.

“I remember you.. You were the o-one who..” He swallows thickly before continuing. “Walked me home.. and gave me a.. a bracelet.” This was in fact true, the two of you had crossed pathed only two days ago. You had been sent to the area because of disappearances that were rumored to be caused by a demon. You were unable to sense the fact that he was a demon at that time and had offered to escort him home after talking with him for some time. You had given him a simple bracelet made out of silver braided thread and a metal feather charm before bidding him farewell. However, right before you disappeared into the night, you had given him a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Despite Douma being known for being emotionless, he had gotten a strange tingle in his chest before his face heated up. He couldn’t keep you off his mind after that.

“Pl-please.. I know you’re a slayer, Y/n-san.. But please..” Douma begged you quietly, desperately needing your attention. You were fighting with yourself on whether or not to kill him and be done with it or actually listen to his pleas. A soft pout was seen on his face as his bottom lip trembled, tears pooling in his rainbow eyes. He was just too pretty to resist…

“My my, Douma..” You say in a low tone as you move your hands to hold onto his shoulders. The mere contact makes him whimper loudly. You lay him down on his back before positioning yourself above him. He shivered, looking up at you with hopeful eyes while spreading his legs to get you enticed. You let your hand drift to cup his cheek and weren’t surprised when the demon instantly leaned into the touch. He let out a pitiful sound, trying desperately to get you to fuck him senseless.

“Y/n-san you’re so pretty!.. Please please fill me up, I need you, Y/n-san..” Douma begs again, not caring that he was acting absolutely desperately because quite frankly, he was desperate for the attention of this alpha, you. You move your hands to start rubbing the sides of his torso carefully, enjoying how he jumped at every little touch. He was already extremely sensitive just with a couple touches.

“Very well.. Try anything and I’ll leave, or better yet, kill you. Got it, demon?” You ask in a soft tone that made chills go down Douma’s spine. He nodded furiously, and shakily lifted his hands to hold your face, wanting to kiss you. You let him do as he pleased for now. The kiss was sloppy but deep and passionate, Douma’s slightly cold tongue twirled with yours and licked all around your mouth as he gripped your face with his shaky hands. You kissed him back, your hands gripping his cheeks tightly. Eventually he pulled back and coughed from lack of air, he turned his head to the side and left his neck exposed.

He squeaked in surprise when he felt you kissing his neck and let out a sharp gasp as you bit down on the sensitive skin. You bit his neck hard but not hard enough to draw blood as you didn’t want to accidentally turn yourself into a demon. Douma squirmed and tried pushing you slightly. You however had none of this and promptly pinned his wrists above his head with a fluid motion. He let out a whine at the action.

“I’m sorry! ‘M sorry! Pl-please let me hold you! Please, please Y/n-san! I-I can’t..” Douma sobs out, tears spilling out of his rainbow eyes, making his flushed cheeks wet. You blinked in surprise and raised an eyebrow.

“Please don’t be mean, I can’t take it! I can’t take it if you’re mean..” He whines while his bottom lip trembles. You let his wrists go and watch with a chuckle and a smirk as he immediately clings to you. He shifts his hips up and wraps his legs around your waist, rubbing up against your still clothed cock. You can feel how absolutely wet he is, slick still dribbling out. You let these sensations go straight to your dick and you feel yourself growing hard.

With a grumble you push Douma back down on the bed and shift down so your head is in between his legs. He lets out a loud whine when he feels you rip his underwear off, leaving him completely naked now. You lean in and kiss all around his dripping cunt, making him whimper slightly.

“Pl-please…” He mumbles out in a lustful tone. He shifts his hips up, trying to get you to do something but much to his annoyance you move your face away. Just as he’s about to say something else you promptly give him a smack right on his slit. This makes him let out a quiet scream, legs shaking badly.

“Y-Y/n-san!” He cries out, trying to close his legs. You don’t let him however and give his slit another smack. He moans and throws his head back.

“Aw does that hurt? For an upper ranking demon you’re surprisingly weak.” You say in a low tone. Douma whimpers at your words and lets out a sob. He was acting as if he was under an aphrodisiac with how sensitive he is. His bottom lip trembles and he lets out another pathetic but breathy moan.

“Please..” He murmurs, his rainbow eyes are unfocused and cloudy with tears. He shakes his head, trying to clear the heat induced mist from his brain while reaching up for you.

“Kiss..?” He says in a soft way. If you knew better you would almost think he was embarrassed to ask for such a thing. However nonetheless you leaned down and captured his lips in a heated kiss. Douma moans in delight and wraps his legs around your waist for the second time that night. You pull back and watch in amusement as he lets out several loud pants, cheeks flushed even more.

You shift back down so your face is between his legs yet again, making Douma’s breath hitch in excitement. With a quick movement you dive into his dripping cunt with your tongue. He chokes out several loud moans as you eat him out in a savage way, lapping at all the slick he produces. The omega is whining loudly, gripping the sheets as hard as he can which causes them to rip.

"Y-Y/n-san!" He cries out while his thighs squeeze your face. You could feel him clenching around your tongue, signifying he was close. You made no move to stop him, after all he was in heat and while you were a sadist you weren’t that cruel. His back arches prettily off of the blankets as he orgasms, painting your face with his release. Douma pants loudly and lets out quiet whimpers. You merely chuckle and lick his juices from your face, looking him in the eyes all the while. You can see his blush deepen at the action before he tries to hide his face in the pillows.

******************************************************************** Douma lets out heavy and shallow pants, his body shivering and twitching from ever touch you lay across his skin. How many orgasms have you wrung out of him? He lost count after the fourth one. He reaches his shaky hands up, trying to hold your face and invite you in for a kiss, but his arms are too weak, he’s got very minimal energy left in him. However this gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you lean down and press your soft lips against his own.

“Y-Y/n-San… please I can’t.. I can’t take it..” Douma whines to you as you thrust hard and deep into his puffy and abused pussy. His back is in an ever arched position as you continue to rail him into the mattress. The blankets are a mess of his release and slick, though neither of you take any notice of it. You make a tutting sound and continue on.

“Come on.. you wanted me, you wanted me to fuck that sweet pussy of yours and claim it as my own, didn’t you, omega.” You say in a condescending manner. Douma let out another wordless whine, a silent plea if you will.

“No. We aren’t stopping until I’m satisfied.” You tell him as your face turns stern. Your expression made his stomach do flips and he subconsciously spread his legs open just a little more.

#sub kny #kny smut #dom reader #demon slayer #Sub Douma #douma x y/n #kny x you #sub character #sub!douma

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kuoukyeee · 4 months

Note

Hi! Could you do any Kengan characters and their s/o getting dressed / ready to go to a fancy event! What if they left early to go to a drive in food place.

I chose Gaolang , Lihito and Wakatsuki. Let me know if you want me to do other characters!

Gender neutral

Not nsfw but is suggestive

Gaolang

• He irons both of your outfits the night before and he would make sure both of you are squeaky clean. Especially if its a formal event! He doesn't want to ruin king Ramas reputation by looking messy in public.

• He shaves and uses some faint aftershave wich has you sniffing him like a dog.

• He would wear a simple and elegant suit in a dark silky colour wich complements his complexion.

• As for you, he would make sure that you're not over or underdressing for the event.

• He helps you zip up anything, or helps you put on your heels(if you wear them).

• He knows all the etiquette and he looks so elegant and shit, it makes you feel like a peasant standing next to him.

• He just oozes this sexy mysterious vibe. You never get tired of ogling him.

Lihito

• I don't think he's the best at choosing outfits for formal events, so you would have to make sure his decisions are appropriate.

• As for picking your own outfit, he's not much help as he would tell you to wear the more sexy outfits, which don't necessarily fit the theme.

• He puts on some strong ass cologne which makes your nose hairs shrivel up💀 (jk)

• But fr you could sniff him out in a crowd bcs of how much he sprays that shit.

• If you ask him to help zip something up he would get horny and start teasing you.

• If you wear a necklace he will try to help you put it on, but both of you will end up struggling to open those tiny ass necklace clasps

• He goes feral when you put on your perfume.

• He's definitely a little anxious because he probably doesn't go to many important events, the only way to calm this sweet himbo down is to give him kisses and nuzzles.

Wakatsuki

• Even tough he wears basic clothes all the damn time, he does have some nice suits. (Unc has style)

• He probably asks you to help him shave so he doesn't miss any spots (he thinks this is such a clever excuse, but you know he just wants you to touch his face)

• He will ask you to show him what youre wearing, and if you twirl he will perk up and flash one of his rare charming grins says sum shit like 'you look gorgeous sweetheart' or 'that looks amazing on you' (grandpa rizz)

• If you ask for help zipping something up, he would be a little hesitant because of his strength. But he will eventually cave in, you would feel his big warm hand holding down your clothes to your body so they don't ride up and he would slowly close the zip. Making sure he doesn't break it. (gentle giant🥺)

• If he wears a suit or a button down, you're fighting your inner demons. Youre salivating over how the fabric presses against his defined body. Youre deffo jumping on him when you get back.

• He has a nice subtle cologne which smells like how he looks yk??(sexy, mature and serious😩).

• This dilf deffo lets you link arms with him. (POWER COUPLE)

#gaolang wongsawat #gaolang wongsawat x reader #wakatsuki takeshi #wakatsuki takeshi x reader #kengan ashura x reader #kenganverse #kengan omega #kengan ashura #ichiro nakata #lihito

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 1 year

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COD Men with a mentally ill/disordered S/O

Requested: No

Warnings: OCD, ADHD, Anxiety, and Depression, Panic attacks

A/N: I cried while writing this so enjoy the fruit of my tears

Ghost - OCD

Ghost can’t say that he understands your need for cleanliness, in your home and in your mind, the way you think just doesn’t make sense to him. He knows that, logically, you checking the knob of the front door exactly 3 times in a row, doing your goodnight chant at the exact same pitch and volume every night as you back into your room, checking every single thing in your area before you can even think of touching the bed, does not influence anything but your mind. But he knows that you not doing it will only put you into a frenzy, practically hyperventilating about how much everything would go wrong because you didn’t do it right. Because now everything is filthy because you broke the pattern. You never say it aloud, afraid he’d think you as crazy as you already think of yourself, but he already knows. It’s written all across your face, the tears in your eyes, the way you look like you want to claw your skin off just to get to the filth that you know is underneath.

filthy filthy filthy FILTHY

No, you never have to say a word. But Ghost will always know, and he’ll always try to help, even if it’s entirely in vain as you sink deeper and deeper into your head, giving in to the voices. He’ll always be there for you, your medicine in one hand and a drink in the other, always.

Soap - ADHD

Soap thinks a lot of your little habits are cute at first. Sure you do some pretty strange things but he doesn’t think it’s anything drastic. You’re just his strange little goofball. But that changes when he gets to know you better and sees all the negative ways you are affected. The way you struggle with time, how you often have trouble remembering even important things, and your inability to properly communicate with people who aren’t in your day to day life. Not to mention your guilt on top of all those things and how it affects your self worth.

Soap can’t help with many of those things but something he can help with is the executive dysfunction. Bringing you food and drinks when you get so absorbed into a task that everything else just falls away and you don’t even notice your stomach’s rumbling until it hurts. Subtly snapping you out of your daydreams when you unintentionally start zoning out during something important. Helping you manage impulse control, starting boring or difficult tasks, or keeping your attention on something important when you get distracted for the umpteenth time.

He’ll always be there for you, ready to assist you however he can, even if he can’t always be a great help.

König - Anxiety

Ah yes, an experience that König is all too familiar with. Although he does find it all kinds of strange to be seeing his own mannerisms from the outside instead of just experiencing them. The way you shrink in on yourself when someone approaches you about something serious, or how you look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack when you have to go into a crowd or to the store during busy hours. And unfortunately a lifetime of living with the same mental illness does not help him comfort you at all. He can try his best but your anxiety feeds into his own, making him teary eyed.

But that doesn’t stop him. König doesn't want to just sit by and watch you delve further into panic. So he worked on being braver, on withstanding his own panic so he could help you through yours. It wasn’t easy, his legs practically jelly as he tried to talk you through an anxiety attack, helping you get your breathing steady again, his voice echoing in your ears as he tries to soothe away all the voices in your head. He knows it’s not going to help all that much, but he hopes it at least helps some.

He just wants to help you feel better, Little Majestät.

Alejandro - Depression

Alejandro is no stranger to the absolute messes that people can become when their inner demons take control. He’s seen his fair share of soldiers lose themselves to PTSD and the like, drowning in their sorrows. It’s not something he’d wish upon anyone, let alone you. Someone he cherishes so much, so close to his heart that seeing you upset makes him almost physically ill. And this level of pain you are in, unable to move from your bed, just staring at the wall like some hallowed husk of the person he loves, it hurts him so badly.

He will do his best for you, gently encouraging you to drink water or to eat something, bringing these things to you if you truly cannot convince you to come out of bed with him. He’ll whisper to you how much he loves you, words of encouragement and praise for everything you manage to do, even if it’s as simple as getting out of bed to perform basic hygiene or throwing out a piece of trash. His smile will be so big when you finally do manage to get out of bed, pressing sweet kisses to your face as he asks you quietly if you’d like to join him in the living room for a bit. Trying to encourage you while not pushing you too far.

Alejandro would kill, just to see you out of your bed and even just the slightest bit happier.

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thestitchywitchy · 2 years

Text

Future Spouse: First Impressions Pt. II

PART 1 HERE

Hey all! By popular vote, here is the the second part to the Future Spouse: First Impressions 😊 this one is going to be your first impression of them. Hope you enjoy! Please leave feedback 💜

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To book a reading with me, please DM or send an email to [email protected] with your inquiry 💌

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Please donate if you’re able to 🙏

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Here we go! Shake it out, take a breath, close your eyes, and choose an animated couple that calls out most to you. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you feel inclined to choose more than one group, please feel free to do so.

***Disclaimer: these readings are for entertainment purposes only.***

Pictures from Pinterest, editing done by me.

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Pile One - Linguini & Colette

The Sun, The Devil, Queen of Swords

Hi Pile 1, welcome to your reading! Your initial impression of your future spouse is that they come off as complex, with many hidden layers. Your FS is highly energetic, optimistic, and charismatic. You will be swept away by their charm. They may have a magnetic personality and make others feel comfortable and at ease around them. Something about their smile just warms you down to your core. You can’t help but be intrigued by them. They exude positivity and warmth, and their presence can be uplifting and inspiring. But I do see you having a moment of doubt. Like, “ is this too good to be true? Surely, someone can’t be this perfect all the time?” And of course you’re right, they’re only human after all. So give them the benefit of the doubt, because yes, this charisma is one of the ways that helps them protect themselves and their inner world. But with that said, they are an incredibly friendly and social individual.

Your FS definitely has a darker or more complex side to their personality. Layers to them that they don’t feel comfortable sharing right off the bat, but you can sense the depth of this person the more you observe or talk to them. They may have struggled with temptation or addiction in the past. It makes them a lot more cautious opening up to people and you can sense that. Your FS may give you just enough information to get them by, but they definitely aren’t going to be revealing too much to you at this time. I see them wanting to impress you, so they’re going to try to remain a bit mysterious. They may also be currently grappling with difficult choices or inner demons. So it’s possible that they’re going to do their best to keep you at arm’s length for the time being. They may have a rebellious streak and may be drawn to experiences that push boundaries or challenge social norms. I see you definitely feeling their “bad boy/girl” vibe lol like, “hmmm what kind of trouble can we get into?” Ok pile 1, I see you! 👀

This person is highly intelligent and analytical. I mean, you don't become that dastardly charming by being a dumb dumb, amiright? 😈 Your FS may possess a sharp wit and be able to cut through complexity to get straight to the heart of a matter. Their ability to read people, including you, exceptionally well may intimidate you a bit. Their piercing eyes will cut right through you if you allow it. Independence is of the utmost importance to them at this point of their life. It may be hard to get them to be open to the idea of settling down, but eventually you will open them up to the possibility. They may be assertive and decisive, able to make tough decisions with ease. However, they may also come across as emotionally distant or aloof, prioritizing logic over emotions. This may be hard for some of you to get pass in the long run, because I see a lot of you are quite an emotional individual. Nothing wrong with that, you just need to find a middle ground with them. Hope you liked your reading!

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Pile Two - Terence & Tinkerbell

5 of Cups, Page of Pentacles, and Knight of Swords

Hey pile 2! Here we go... Your initial impression of you future spouse is that they are a complex and emotionally intense individual.

You may think that your FS may be feeling sadness or more so disappointment in this case. They may also seem to be focused on what they have lost rather than what they still have. I'm getting that they could have been snubbed for a promotion or didn't get a job they applied for. For a good handful of you, they lost a significant amount of money in stock trading or something a long those lines and they are pissed off about it. But they still have an air of wealth to them so it's not something they'll be worried about for too long. Very much career oriented. They may give off an initial impression of feeling down or carrying a heavy burden. A lot of weight falls on their shoulders. Over all, you most likely will be meeting your FS when they're having a bad day and they're trying to blow of some steam. Kind of a pessimistic vibe and you'll wonder if they're always like this.

But even with all that said, your FS is grounded and practical, with a strong focus on building a solid foundation for their future. I think they're practicality is what will stand out most to you. They may be diligent and hardworking, with a strong sense of responsibility and duty. Lol for some, I'm hearing "a duty to their mama, more like", so they can be a Mama's boy/girl and family oriented as well. Could even want to be a provider. I can see them talking about their job/career a lot. It looks like they're going to try to impress you with how much money they earn and quite a lot of you will take the bait. They may also be eager to learn and explore new things. So they will question you a lot too.

Your FS is highly intellectual and may be prone to quick thinking and may have to make hard decisions on a daily basis. Ok, this person is Do-Mi-NANT! They tend to be the boss at work, in social situations, and most of all, in the bedroom! This isn’t an 18+ reading, but it needed to be said lol. They may be sharp-tongued and assertive with the tendency to speak their mind without hesitation. And you better believe they're going to be assertive in showing their intentions with you 👀 You may get intimidated if they come on too strongly, but they're doing it in order to test you. They may be drawn to conflict or competition and may thrive under pressure. If they see you having other suitors present, they're going to make those suitors have a run for their money. The type of person who likes the chase because they know they have the tendency to get whatever they want. You'll be attracted to their power and the way they carry themselves. Hope you enjoyed the reading!

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Pile Three - Mavis & Johnny

8 of Cups reversed, The Magician reversed, The Hierophant

Hello pile 3, welcome to your reading. Your future spouse may give off an initial impression of them feeling stuck in life, lacking direction, and/or disconnected from their inner power. They may have a guarded, distracted demeanor all around so they may not even notice you at first.

Your FS may have a reluctance to let go of old patterns or situations that are no longer serving their needs. They may come across as feeling unfulfilled or unhappy with their current circumstances and may be hesitant to take action to change them. Somewhat of a people pleaser whose pretty much over everyone, but won't do anything beyond that point at the moment. It's likely that you're going to meet them as they're struggling to transition careers or after a break up. For the majority of you, it will be after a break up. Ok, let's get real a moment... for a good number of you who chose this pile, they may currently be in a relationship that they're not happy/satisfied with and it shows and you can see the unfulfillment written all over them. Rolling their eyes, huffing when someone speaks, arms crossed, all around closed off… Their current person may be there with them when you meet them for some of you, so heads up. Let their situation play out. Don't be the one to throw a wrench in the mix or you'll bring a lot of unnecessary drama in your life.

Your FS isn't all that great at expressing their intentions or manifesting their desires. Just all around really bad at flirting 🙈 how adorable lol. Most of you will find this really cute and endearing, but there are some of you who will think that they may not be interested in you even though they really are. For the ones who are meeting their FS when they're taken, your FS will try to block this connection, but obviously that isn't going to work for them in the long run lol.

Your FS may come across as lacking confidence in their abilities. They come across as well mannered and really shy as well. Also, they aren't that creative in their approach because they may feel like they don't stand a chance with someone like you. Your FS is pretty much just winging it at the the moment. They may seem to be lacking a sense of direction of what their intentions are, that's because they arent entirely sure what they want right now.

They seem like they are wanting to venture out and do their own thing. Pretty tired of the opinions of others, but not entirely confident enough yet to put a snub to certain situations. The situations will be different for each individual. At first meeting, you may not be entirely sure how you feel about your FS. You find them to be smart but also quite stubborn in their approach to life. You are attracted to them, but you may be concerned with their lack of current stability. Only time will tell... Hope you enjoyed your reading!

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If you enjoyed your reading and would like to look into this topic further, please DM me for a $7.77 extended reading.

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pufflehuffing · 7 months

Text

Teacher's Pet (Professor!Sebastian Sallow X F!Student!Reader) 🔞

pairing: Professor!Sebastian Sallow x F!Student!Reader genre: smut, mdni (everyone is 18+) summary: A forbidden muse caged within an ivory darkness wanted Professor Sallow deeply, and he was only a mere man happy to show her self-worth. word count: 7.5k A/N: Y’all professor!Seb has me in a chokehold! I have so many scenarios in my head My masterlist. (Part 2 is up!)

Professor Sallow stood up from his chair, towering over the petite girl standing before him. His deep brown eyes scan her form appreciatively before settling on her flushed face. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips as he spoke. "Ah, dear, come in and make yourself comfortable. Please, have a seat." He gestured towards the empty chair across from his desk. Once she sat down, he leaned back into his own chair, crossing one booted leg over the other as he regarded her with a calculating look. "Now, dear, what is it that has you looking so troubled?" The girl nervously shifted in her seat as she looked at him. She was feeling embarrassed that he had called her to his office, as it showed a sign of weakness in her normal façade of the perfect student. "I'm sorry, sir?"

"Your studies, dear," he clarified, leaning forward slightly and resting his elbows on the desk between them. His voice lowered an octave, becoming more serious. "You have always been a bright student, yet lately... well, it worries a man like me to see such potential going to waste." He paused dramatically, allowing the weight of his words to settle before adding: "Tell me, is there anything troubling you? Anything at all that could be causing this change in your usual brilliant performance?"

Not fully expecting an answer, Professor Sallow continued speaking while keeping his eyes locked on hers. "I know how much you care about your studies, how passionate you used to be about learning. Do you miss something? Do you need help solving a problem or are you being teased by any of the boys in your classes?" His tone softened slightly, conveying genuine concern for her wellbeing. Most professors would have made it clear from the start that their interest was professionally motivated, but not him. Many said it was because of his upbringing, believing that everyone deserved help, regardless of social status or school hierarchy.

“I don't know. I think... maybe I'm just stressed. It's just.. all a bit overwhelming. I feel like I'm not good enough, you know? I always wanted to be perfect, to make my family proud. But sometimes... I feel like I'm failing.”

Silence filled the room as he took in her words, the weight of them clinging onto the air between them. He leaned back in his chair again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. There was a silence for a while, an eerie calm that only served to underline the gravity of the situation. Slowly, Sallow uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Ah," he said, a soft touch of sympathy in his voice. "Being a perfect student, an ideal pupil, it's a heavy weight to carry. I've been there. It took me years to realise that even stars can falter in darkness." He paused briefly, giving her a chance to understand his metaphor. "You're not alone in your struggle, sweetheart. We all have our mountains to climb. Just remember to breathe, you hear?" His eyes bore into hers, the confidence in them an attempt to transfer his strength onto her face. Despite his exterior show of bravado and outstanding academic reputation, he too had battled inner demons. He understood the fear of failing.

"I used to think about climbing mountains, you know," he confided in a softer tone, looking away from her for a moment. The fire crackled in the corner of his office, casting dancing shadows on the walls. When he looked back at her, his eyes held a distant sadness as if remembering past events. "Every peak I reached only seemed to reveal another peak beyond it. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried, there would always be something more to conquer. But now?" He paused, letting out a sigh before focusing on her once more. His eyes bore deeper into hers, a determined sense of understanding sparking in their depths. "I understand now that it's not about reaching the top, but about the journey itself. The climb, my dear... that's where the true beauty lies."

Professor Sallow leaned forward, offering her a sympathetic smile, eyes twinkling with unsaid secrets and quiet strength. His index finger traced circular patterns on the polished surface of his desk, contemplating his own journey before speaking again. "You just need to learn to accept yourself, flaws and all...and love the journey." Despite the commonplace advice, her heart swelled with gratitude for the man's kind words, words that echoed authenticity due to their source. He reached across the table, carefully placing his large hand over hers. It wasn't platitude but years of experiences he shared. There was wisdom in those words, gentle yet profound.

"Yes, you're... right," she stutteringly admitted, her voice breaking as tears threatened to spill forth. Clearing her throat, she attempted a shaky smile before looking away. "Thank you, Professor Sallow. I... I appreciate your understanding." Her gaze drifted around the room, fixating on the old portraits lining the walls. Many of them were faculty members she hadn't even heard of, their eyes following her movement, observing her vulnerability. She felt exposed, as if everyone in the room now knew how much she needed his guidance right now. Her breaths were sad, quiet; and she felt willing to disappear into the shadows cast by the fire.

His hand was still on hers— big, strong, and comforting. It gave a sense of safety and sanctuary, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions bubbling within her. "Ah remember," his soft voice echoed in her ears. "You're not alone. No one climbs Mount Everest by themselves. You don't have to bear this burden by yourself." He lifted his hand, his thumb gently wiping a tear from her cheek before sliding his fingers through her tresses. That simple gesture sent ripples of warmth shuddering through her body, undoing some of the ice in her heart. The tender touch, while unexpected, was comforting in a way she couldn't describe. His words echoed in her mind, a beacon piercing through the dark clouds obscuring her thoughts. Suddenly, she found herself grasping onto his arm with both hands, tears falling freely now. "I didn't... I never realised I needed help. Thank you, Professor Sallow." He simply squeezed her hand reassuringly and then pulled back his own slightly, gently wiping another stray tear from her face. The exchange felt almost intimate, as if they were sharing a secret kept from the world outside these walls.

"Always remember, dear," he told her gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners like warm summer sun rays after a stormy day. "You never have to do this alone. Not if you don't want to." His gaze was filled with understanding and kindness. Despite the serious nature of their meeting, there was an undercurrent of attraction that threatened to make her heart stutter. But at the same time, that stirring sensation anchored her feelings, reinforcing the sense of safety he provided.

His brown eyes met hers, burning with a warmth she couldn't resist, making her heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with fear or admiration for her professor. In that moment, the air between them thickened, thick with unspoken words and longing looks. A realisation slowly settled within her, not just as a student in need of guidance from an esteemed teacher, but as a young woman attracted to a man only a few years her senior. Professor Sallow's lips softly curved into a knowing smile, probably sensing the direction their conversation had taken. "Now then, enough tears for now," he drawled lightly, leaning back in the chair. "You're brave for sharing your feelings with me, sweetheart," he began casually, his eyes never leaving the tear-streaked face he attempted to soothe with his voice. "Brave, beautiful and courageous. Always remember, darling, your strength is a rare treasure, even if you don't always see it. And, sharing your burdens lessens their weight."

His eyes swept over her, lingering particularly on her flushed cheeks and the tousled strands of hair falling across her forehead. Male approval was something she rarely sought but definitely enjoyed when given. A blush dusted her cheeks at his compliments, the heat spreading from her collarbone to the tips of her ears. In that moment, she couldn't remember ever feeling as exposed or vulnerable as she did right now. Professor Sallow's gaze dropped to her swollen lips before lifting back to meet her eyes, those bright orbs of hers that filled him with a silent promise of vulnerability and potential discovery. The unspoken tension between them segued into a new dynamic, one that blurred lines between teacher and student. "Keep using that courage," he whispered huskily, ignoring the sudden, undeniable pull towards her, feeling it almost physically.

"I... I'll try," she whispered, looking away briefly before looking up into his eyes again. Her gaze was hazy with unshed tears and unmet desires, turbulent thoughts playing on her face. She hesitated but ultimately offered a timid smile, probably borne from courage alone. "Thank you for everything, Professor Sallow."

It wasn't explicit, but it was enough for him. Her thanks left the door slightly ajar for what could be. The flickering flame from the fireplace bathed his office in a pool of golden light, bathing everything in an intimate aura. Professor Sallow studied her under the shadows cast by the fire, taking note of her vulnerability and quiet strength. He deeply appreciated how she trusted him enough to share her fears and admit her shortcomings. In his mind, real courage wasn't about hiding insecurity but facing it. "You are most welcome, dear," he responded, his voice low and smooth. "You know you're always welcome here anytime you need advice... or company." There were certain connections he never intended to formalise, boundaries he never planned to cross. However, as he looked at her frail form bathed in radiant light, his willpower was stretched thin. Her unexpected admission seemed to jolt him out of his reverie. He pulled back his hands from the desk, steepling his fingers in his growing lap and exhaling deeply.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. Despite their close interactions and shared emotions, they remained at opposite sides of the desk, a barrier between them symbolic of their unspoken bounds. "I could set up an extra tutoring session or help you with your reading... Whatever you feel comfortable with?"

He stared into her eyes, vulnerable and weak moments ago, now filled with determination emulated from his words. His heart pounded like a thunderstorm within his chest, a sensation he rarely experienced. He recognized his own struggle for restraint now, knowing that if anything were to happen between them it would likely cost him everything. Through the thin veil masking her sobs earlier and her present composure, their mutual attraction boiled under the surface. And yet it was clear this girl needed more than just a professor's guidance; she needed someone whom she could rely heavily upon. Professor Sallow knew what she required. Time. Patience. Understanding. More than anything though, he thought fleetingly, she needed intimacy.

The suggestion of helping her academically brought back some semblance of order to her chaotic thoughts. With a nod, she managed a shaky smile. "Uh-huh, maybe just some extra help." Inside, though, the need for closeness practically radiated from her, almost palpable. "Thank you, Professor Sallow." Part of her wished he would cross that invisible line, sweep her up in his arms and whisk her away from everything that hurt. But she knew better. They were teachers and students – it was wrong. Yet, the temptation was there, a burning ember begging for fuel to ignite into a blazing inferno. A small part of her couldn't believe she was considering kissing him, crossing that line. It felt wrong, but so damn right.

The room was heavy with tension, their eyes locked in a silent dance of longing and hesitation. Her breathing became rapid, matching the pounding of her heart echoing off the walls. A piece of her knew she shouldn't entertain such forbidden thoughts; she was his student, after all. Yet an irresistible pull gnawed at her insides. Professor Sallow broke their gaze first, scouring the room frantically for escape routes or an answer to this unprecedented conundrum. The fire crackled away benignly behind him, unaffected by the storm brewing inside them.

His breath hitched, heart rate quickening in sync with hers. This was far from what he'd planned when inviting her into his office. The freckled brunet swallowed hard, fighting his sudden desire to close the gap between them. He stared at her; every uncontrollable emotion etched on his face indicated the struggle within. Her shy beauty smouldered just metres away, looking into his eyes like a moonlight's reflection in water— enchanting, hypnotic, and terribly dangerous. "It's getting late," he murmured hoarsely, forcing himself to look away, only for his eyes to dip to her lips. His knuckles whitened around the desk's edge as if grappling the collar of an unseen foe. It was all too clear now for both of them: his desire for her matched her own.

His gesture stirred something primal inside her, sending shivers down her spine as sanity retreated further. In response, she stood up slowly, the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She approached him slowly, biting her lip nervously, fingers trailing lightly across the top of the desk, stopping inches away from him. "I... I still need help, Professor," she spoke quietly, taking another step closer, bringing the gap between them down to almost a step. The air around them became noticeably charged, practically vibrating with expectation. "Please..."

His features tightened at the sight of her nervously biting her lip, those rosy petals just a whisper away from his mouth. He could see the desperation in her eyes, not only for academic help, but also undeniably personal contact. Professor Sallow knew he should've backed away then and there. Yet for some reason, he just sat rooted to the spot. His hand hovered over the edge of his desk instinctively, but it was a desire more powerful than his better judgement that guided it forward. With an unsteady breath, he reached out, his fingers brushing hers. Both their eyes locked on their entwined fingers, hearts pounding in precise rhythm, matching their desperate pulses. At that moment, everything else ceased to exist. Her quiet sigh echoed through his office, a testament to their shared need reaching its peak. It felt wrong, yet right, forbidden yet comforting. Professor Sallow felt like he was going up in flames while gaining salvation all at once. "You don't have to ask for help, love," he murmured thickly, his thumb absently tracing circles on her soft skin. "You deserve more than I can give."

She looked into those eyes, usually filled with wisdom but now burning with desire, and felt her world shifting under her feet. Her lips parted slightly as his thumb caressed her skin, the touch sending shivers down her spine. Those eyes, usually so full of wisdom, now blazed with an unspoken desire. Dangerous, daring, and undeniably appealing. For a moment, all sound had deserted the room. Even the fire seemed to crackle less fervently, playing second fiddle to the stuttered rhythm of their hearts. His admission caught her off-guard. "More? What do you mean?" Her voice trembled, laced with curiosity tinged with longing. She yearned for something he perhaps permitted to provide, but she couldn't back away, trapped by the dark pull between them. His eyes darkened further, but his vice-like grip on her fingers softened. "What I mean is," he said softly, drawing her attention back to him with his mournful blue gaze, "I can give you advice, or a shoulder to cry on... But the things you're asking for aren't within my capabilities as a professor, dear." The corner of his mouth lifted in a ghostly smile when she quizzically looked at him, an expression befitting a practised lover. "But as a man?" Pausing for effect, emotion choked through his throat before continuing. "As a man, perhaps I can deliver much more than that."

A spark rose through the air stuffed with tension. Her heart pounded faster with hope from every word he spoke. The gulf between them churned with currents of conflicting thoughts. If only for a moment, she wanted to be a woman, not a student. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, she slowly stepped closer, their bodies inches apart now. Her eyes locked on his hazel ones, her heartbeat pounded relentlessly against her chest. His words had unravelled the thin veil of control she still held onto, a fragment of her longing taking her over. "Then how about," she whispered, lacing her fingers through his, "I ask you as a man, and we act as the two people standing here?"

Professor Sallow's breath stumbled, feeling her fingers locking with his. She asked him, desired him, as more than just her teacher. A reprieve from all the societal norms and professional boundaries seemed to wash over them then, liberating as whispers carried by the fall winds. His heart pounded heavily in his ears, his body humming with energy. Arose a sense of forbidden excitement, daring him to explore this uncharted terrain. However, he was a teacher, and she was diverse. An unforeseen stream of reluctance threatened to snuff out their budding intimacy. "Sweetheart, it's... wrong," he replied breathlessly, gazing into her beautiful fiery gaze. Despite the words, there was clear temptation in his tone. "I'm older than you... more experienced..." His hands shook subtly, unwilling to release the frail bond they shared. For perhaps the first time in years, he wavered, pulled by a magnet so strong it reshaped the gravity around them.

Her eyes danced with resolve, each speck twinkling under his gaze, while she weighed heavily on those words. The impact weighed heavily upon them both; one person was entrusting their dreams upon another. The sound of her voice filled the void, light yet firm. A palpable shiver went down his spine when she spoke. "Experience isn't everything, is it?" She questioned, her tone wavering only slightly as she looked into his eyes, unwavering despite the vulnerability etched into her voice. "Age? A mere number." Her fingers interlaced with his tighter, her heart pounding against her chest like a thousand independent drums insisting they act on their desires. Their world, comprised by these four walls filled with his mahogany furnishing and ancient books. Time seemed to falter outside, ceasing to exist. "We both know," she couldn't resist adding softly, elicited by courage's intoxicating nectar. "Breaking rules is sometimes necessary."

Professor Sallow chuckled softly at her reckless statement, gut instincts screaming against her words. Yet there was truth to it, their connection was undeniable. However, his laugh faded quickly, giving way to serious apprehension. He needed to squash these growing, and showing, urges. "Sweetheart," he started slowly as he pulled her down to his level, inching closer till his lips nearly grazed her ear. "We're treading dangerous waters here." A sense of unease crawled up his spine as he inhaled deeply. "You could lose everything, and so could I." With great effort, he pulled away again, leaning back in his chair.

The heavy pause between them felt like eternity, their hearts hammering in sync. Each minute hit harder than the last, both waiting for the other's choice. Their breaths tangled in the dry air as anticipation mounted high. Her heart clawed at her ribcage, demanding something pacifying in return. "Why me?" He finally managed to croak out, desperate to redirect his train of thought. To hold onto the shreds of sanity still left. "There are others... more suitable for your tastes." He knew it sounded hollow and shallow, but he made a feeble attempt at dignity anyway.

Surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by determination. "Because I choose you," she said firmly, stepping closer still. Her tone held an edge of defiance mixed with assertiveness. Her heart hammered in her chest, a pulsing drumbeat against her ribcage. "And you chose me," she added softly, taking his hand in hers and placing it gently over her cleavage. Her breast pressed against his palm, a combustible mix of cotton and lace. Underneath the fabric of her uniform, her nipples hardened in response to his touch, hungrily seeking contact. Her body danced to a sensual sonnet penned by desire. Professor Sallow froze. His eyes dropped down to where they were connected. He very much wanted this, desperate desire dancing in those brown orbs. Like most mortals, he succumbed easily to raw need.

Professor Sallow's heart shuddered at the mere thought of her body beneath his gaze, hidden by an innocent school uniform. He hesitated, control slipping away with each passing moment. His eyes locked on their entwined hands on her breast, heavy breaths stirring the silent room while he felt her clothed flesh squish beneath his fingers. It was distant echoes of reason battling raw wants that controlled his speech. "Love..." He started hesitantly, reaching out for her face with his free hand, hesitant yet inevitable across. She leaned down into his touch, eyes meeting his own. "We'll both lose if we give in," he said firmly, attempting to be rational. But there was no escaping the yearning behind them. He cupped her cheek, that raw need hitting him like a thunderbolt. A warm flush tainted his own as his erection strained against his slacks.

With a tired sigh, she shook her head. "Then keep thinking that way," she whispered, reaching up to remove his hand from her face. "But there's no denying what happens between us." Her own thirst grew palpable as she noticed the subtle rise of his pants, indicating his rapidly hardening member. The forbidden became even more enthralling under these circumstances. She could almost taste him in the air between them.

His heart raced, pounding out an ode only she could hear. But he didn't let go of her hand, her soft breaths mingling with his ragged ones. "You don't know anything about this man you choose," he protested weakly, despite his body's protest. Yet despite his struggle against temptation, longing shone prominently through his defence.

"I might not know everything, but am I not enough?" She looked into his deep-set eyes, tracking the vulnerability and desire revealed there. Her fingers traced around his while he cupped her breast, urging him on despite her nervousness.

Breathing raggedly, he looked away from her hand. His body screamed in protest but found necessary refuge within him, rarely leaving such control into the hands of others. He felt exposed. Fatigued yet energised by desire that defied words or thoughts. "Sweetheart," he breathed out desperately, releasing her hand and inching towards her again until their lips were within an agonising inch away. "You're a student..."

Her breath hitched, her eyes begging for something more than his hesitant words. He was fighting a losing battle, and they both knew it. But her words had inched them closer to their moving boundary— or shattered it entirely. "I am a woman," she said softly, beckoning him closer with barely there movements until they were an inch apart again, laced in passion that was largely unexplored. Grasping his tensed shoulders, she closed the small gap between them in a slow, unhurried kiss. It started with tender ease yet quickly morphed into reckless abandon.

His protest quickly dissipated, giving way to need and want fueling his actions. In one swift move he pulled her onto his lap, uttering an involuntary hiss when he felt the warmth of her snug against his throbbing member. His lips claimed hers with hunger inherited from years-long restraint. An atrocious act of disobedience worthy of expulsion from both his job and society? Yes. A desperate need for a scorching embrace? Absolutely. Their lips parted momentarily as he unbuttoned her skirt, exposing her stockings and cotton panties. Rapturous sighs escaped her throat as he trailed hot open-mouthed kisses down her neck. He motored his hand towards her arousal, brushing lightly against it before pausing. "Oh, Professor..." Her words were filled with mixed disbelief and anticipation, eager for more contact.

"Professor nothing," He growled low, gripping tightly onto her hips, holding her in the sinful position. "You're mine now." In a sudden bout of bravery– or perhaps self-destruction, his fingers slipped under her panties and between her damp, heated folds; finding her intricate curves with experienced ease. She clutched onto his shoulders tightly as he continued his feverish exploration of her sensitive areas, unable to contain the groan that escaped her lips. Desire roared through them both, matching each touch, each moan and gasp echoing around them. His own need became a tangible pain, anticipation peaking at each gasp leaking from the woman on his knee. But somehow that drove him further; like fueling a flame between them both. "Sir... I want..."

As if sensing her desperation, he plunged two fingers inside of her wetness, rubbing her clitoris eagerly with his thumb. Her thighs trembled, involuntarily clenching around his hips for support. His breath was hot against her skin. "Shhhh... So fucking tight," he moaned into her ear, enjoying the sounds she made as his fingers worked her into a feverous state of need. His own arousal grew more strident, pressing against both of their uniforms screamingly obvious now. The room was filled with the world only they could hear: heartbeats pounding breathlessly; soft slurpy sounds of him touching her most intimate parts.

"Please..." she pleaded with a hormonally-driven beg as he continued to tease and torment her into a state of desperation.

He ripped off his cravat in one motion and tossed it aside, focusing on undressing her. The cotton material of her dress shirt resisted his rough actions before finally yielding from her arms. Her breasts were released from their lacy confines, enticing and plump. He groaned low, his eyes darkening with arousal as her breasts swayed free, thrown about with every thrust of his fingers. "Bloody hell, you're so gorgeous," he managed to utter between heavy breaths. He relished each tremulous gasp vibrating under his touch, vexing her every inch to a delightfully tense symphony. Her head tilted back, exposing her neck to his hungry lips as he revelled in satisfaction, leaving a trail of red marks on her tits. The brush of his slight stubble against her sensitive flesh heightened her senses further. "Oh, please..." Her voice cracked, pleading even more urgently now. Her hips rocked against his hips, matching his relentless pace. Still impaled on two fingers inside her, she buckled against him, greedily pursuing her release.

Professor Sallow gazed desperately at her breasts bouncing and her hazy eyes. He pulled out his fingers with a wet 'pop', drenched in her released juices. Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he slid them into his mouth, savouring her flavour. He relished the taste of her, cheeks hollowed from sucking hard enough before swallowing slowly. The taste of her flooded his tongue and soul– rich, sweet, lively and so forbidden. "S-sir, I need you... So badly..." By now, her words were mere pleas for him to continue. His free hand went back to her breasts, squeezing and massaging them vigorously. His strong grip and calloused thumb rubbing over her hardened nipple in circles sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. His cock throbbed violently against his pants, the fabric stretched thin from its imminent release. Even with every nerve ending screaming for release, he would savour these moments, this taste of forbidden bliss.

Suddenly, his hands dropped from her chest and his mouth, frantically tugging at her underwear. It now strained around her thighs, surely leaving red bruises if he didn't remove them soon. His face tilted down upwards to meet her eyes, burning with desire and hunger. "Cup your tits, sweetheart," he commanded huskily. Her eyes widened before obeying, hands reaching up to do as he asked. His words were oddly arousing; dominance mixed with endearment triggering something raw beneath layers of innocence. She cupped her chest unashamedly now, twisting her hardened tips lovingly. By the look on Professor Sallow's face, he needed this.

"Get those pants off, sir," she whispered hoarsely. Their eyes locked in pure, raw need. She felt his lip marks on her neck, a sweet mix of pain and passion that only fueled their game. Professor Sallow's eyes fell into a heated glance, gaze lazy yet lethally so. With trembling hands, he undid his trousers, freeing himself from the discomfort and need that strangled him from within. His erect member bobbed freely, swaying up against his tweed vest. "Pump me," he groaned.

Her hands covered him hesitantly, wet just like she was, seeking contact they both longed for. He groaned unashamedly as she wrapped her fingers around him but stopped abruptly at her ragged intake of air. "F-fuck... Sir... You're big..." A humid breath hitched out from her lips, tearing her vision away from his manhood long enough to peer at the professor's face to gauge his reaction. "N-not going to fit..."

He groaned, eyes shut tight as she stroked him carefully. Her tentative grip gave way to understandable lust-filled fervour, matching him in a mutual rush. His body shivered with each grip, clutching hold of what was left of control. "It'll fit," he croaked out. "I'll make sure of it." This wasn't mere bravado; he knew if someone could take all of him that it was going to be his student. "Another 'sir' and you're getting fucked in front of the whole school yard," He growled low under his breath, his lips kissing away droplets of sweat from her temple. His words were bordered by darkness: coercive and convincing. She gulped and continued stroking him with more confidence now. Her wet fingers responded perfectly to his silk-smooth shaft with each twist of her wrist, lubed by his own secretion. His oversized manhood felt heavy and enticing in her palm, begging to be consumed.

"Oh...Gods..." He swallowed hard, breaking their gaze from the sight before him for the first time. Her caress sent undulated waves of pleasure through his system. "Panties off, love," he rasped forcefully. She hesitated for the briefest of moments before reluctantly hooking a thumb into her briefs and pulling them down, discarding them unceremoniously onto the ground. It was rapidly escalating beyond anything she thought possible. Yet, there was no turning back now.

He inhaled sharply, eyes fixed on her glistening cunt. Smirking devilishly, he carefully guided her back onto his lap, her pussy rubbing against the head of his erection. A drop of pre-cum leaked out along its width. He scooped her in his arms, positioning her over him. Her cunt, warm and eager against his swollen length, gripped a little of what he offered thus far. Her nails dug into his shirt, aggressively clutching for assurance.

She sucked in air, bracing for the moment. Every sensation was so different than before: him against her skin like warm molten lava breaking apart clouds of clouded inhibition. He grabbed messy strands of her hair, cutting off any potential protest from forming. "Relax," he whispered urgently. She felt a thick part of him slowly invaded her core inch by splayed inch, throbbing and moving into unfamiliar territory. He looked up at her, noting the pained tightness along her brows. He gave her a soft kiss on her cheek reassuringly. "My sweet girl." His voice purred deeply like a lustful lullaby. "You take your time," He continued, stroking strands of hair away from her face. "I'm not going anywhere."

His thrust was painful yet welcome. Professor Sallow took deep breaths and slowed down even more, allowing her body to acclimate around him. His determination was akin to stubbornness; wanting to make the connection undeniably real. He glanced down at where the girl wrapped around him, his cheeks flushed red and pupils dilated. "Fucking beautiful..." he whispered gallantly when he saw his thickness almost fully inside her. "So tight..."

"It hurts..." Her whisper was low and faltering. Her assessment sent a wave of guilt and pleasure crawling down his spine. He panted heavily against her neck, digging his chin into it forcefully. "Hold onto me." He squeezed her hips gently to assure he wouldn't move just yet. Damn it if she didn't make him lose control now. He closed his eyes tight, trying to compose himself to the best of his abilities. "I'll give you a second."

She was frozen against him for a moment, catching her breath with a tremble. But the cock inside her kept throbbing, prodding forward slightly. His words of comfort meant little in her current throbbing haze. Her nails dug into his blazer unconsciously, matching his rhythm of tension and release intensely. Finally, relaxation seeped into those tense muscles surrounding his cock. When he began thrusting again, albeit slower than before, each movement was sheer bliss even through pain. She bit her lip hard not to moan out loud, not wanting to draw attention to their forbidden encounter in his office.

"Oh, you're loosening up, love." Heavily heaving just like her, his voice was muffled by her neck. "Thank God." His grip over her hips blended perfectly with her release; every thrust was so much more pleasurable now and Lord knew he hadn't even gotten started yet. As if reading his thoughts, she pressed into him harder until his cock met her G-spot perfectly. "Good girl..."He let out short pants filled with pent-up desire for the flushed girl exposed before him under the dim light of the fireplace. "That's it, take me faster." A plea between moans, slipping dangerously from every boundary. At every thrust, she responded for him eagerly, arching her torso in anticipation, her channel squeezing tightly around him. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice straining between pleasure and effort. "Y-you're so big." She wrapped her arms around his neck for balance while he continued to ram into her. Her moans grew louder, echoing through the empty office. Her nails scratched at the back of his neck, leaving small grooves in his skin. Sweat trickled down both of their bodies, mixing together, creating their own sickeningly sweet perfume filling the room.

Feeling empowered by her gathering heat and whorish moans, Professor Sallow picked up pace, matching rapid jagged thrusts better suited for animals than humans. He hissed through his teeth, grinding against her sensitive areas mercilessly. His breath became rushed, bordering on animalistic. With each brutal fuck, she struggled to keep up with his pace, yet still tried her hardest. Her moans matched the rhythm perfectly, unbearably sweet. Her body became so hot, almost on fire as his cock pumped into her. "You're mine now,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear. "Ride me, sweetheart."

With his command, his hands grasped at her perfect ass, squeezing harder as if claiming ownership over her entire being. She adjusted herself subconsciously to adjust even in the haze of her arousal. Her clit ground against him every stroke, igniting pre-existing flames further. "I-I can't believe I'm doing this," She grinned wickedly. His cock slammed deeper relentlessly, indicating impending release was near for him too.

"Good girl," He sighed heavily against her ear. "Who said you could think now?" Smooth. The only thing his consciousness focused on was fucking her into ecstasy. "Je-just fuck me..." She mewled against him, her legs clenching around him. Her orgasm was looming closer now. Professor Sallow couldn't resist an extra hard thrust, feeling her clench around him violently, almost as if coaxing for more. "Fuck yes," He moaned deeply inside his own mind. He was losing control. His words were no longer polished but savage, raw expressions of want disguised as dirty talk. He slapped her ass firmly, hearing her gasp but nothing stopped them both from reaching their peak. "This is what you deserve. Taut schoolgirl. Finally feeling me out." Each slap coupled with a deep thrust met with a favourable response from her cunt. As his release approached like a ruthless wave, he told her hoarsely on the edge of insanity, "You're gripping me tight, aren't you?" His length pulsating regularly matched their rhythm.

She froze momentarily but eventually nodded yes. For one evening, rules had to be broken. "Yes," She panted out, unable to deny it. "Please..." She pleaded, her walls contracting tightly around him.

"Good girl..." His voice thickened, pulsating in rhythm to her orgasm. He could feel his release threatening any moment now. "You're gonna feel me fill you up."

Her breath hitched harder, his intention so clear and explicit, leaving little room for doubt. "Please do..." She moaned between clenches. "Fill me..."

"Hold on love," he groaned, his pace quickening even more. "I'm—" With one final hard thrust that nearly knocked the breath out of her, he came inside of her, filling her up to the brim. His seed shot out in hot gushes that splattered against her inner walls, painting her insides with his essence. He groaned heavily against her neck, his body convulsed in post-orgasmic bliss. "That's it, take all of me." His voice was raspy, barely recognizable.

Her own orgasm hit like a storm, seizing up inside her as he emptied himself into her hungrily. It was too much, too fast and wild for words after all these years under his careful guidance. Her eyes rolled back into her head and he could feel every muscle in her body tighten around him while her legs fluttered shut against his hips like a butterfly flapping its wings.

Breathing heavily, Professor Sallow let out a final, satisfied moan, his hands holding onto her slender waist to steady himself. His member slowly began to shrink inside her, the contraceptive potions the school nurse administered all seventh-years ensuring neither one of them would regret this encounter come morning. "That was... extraordinary," he finally spoke softly, his tone marked with wonder even amidst spent euphoria. Wrapped around him, she didn't dare speak or move; their lips met delicately amidst muffled breathing. The tainted tangle of bodies felt heavier than ever. Their kiss lingered longer this time, pure affection creeping in. "Yes," She mumbled against him. Her orgasm subsided only to be replaced by another thrilling wave of emotions. A vulnerable intimacy unbeknownst from him.

He leaned back slightly, catching his breath while she still held him within her core unapologetically. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Now, sweetheart..." He whispered in satisfaction, tracing her hair softly. "Let's fix our clothes and pretend nothing happened." He attempted to restore some order to their dishevelled attire— certainly a challenge for both parties. Carefully, he began to dress her with utmost care and delicacy never seen before. He paused momentarily when he adjusted her blouse, clasping his teeth together. His cock was still nestled within her warmth. "Much better." He added softly upon finishing the process efficiently. Her cheeks reddened from the intimacy. They looked into each other's eyes that were soft and full of unspoken promises. "...Are you okay?" He asked tenderly.

She nodded with a sheepish smile, still catching her breath. "I... feel... funny..." Her voice trembled slightly.

"Maybe you need some water?" He grabbed a nearby cup from his desk and handed it to her. He straightened shirt buttons over her chest slowly, lingering over every movement her breathing caused. Waves of intensity could still be felt emanating from them, now a lustful aura hidden under calming silence.

"Almost done," He glanced at her, gently smiling back as if nothing had transpired in his office chair. The brunet waited patiently letting her drink, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. When she finished he helped himself to a small sip before placing the cup down. His cock continued to twitch inside her, as if pressing against her to keep warm. "Here you go, all buttoned up." He declared almost lovingly, all traces of messiness now hidden under an air of professional dignity they both held dear. "Better?" He asked, his gaze not leaving her flushed face. Her eyes were brighter than ever before, like a sunny morning. Their glances locked again for a brief moment before his hands slowly stopped at his tie, adjusting it properly over trembling digits.

A sigh escaped him with every move beneath her grateful gaze, possessive but loving. Once neatened up, he brushed some imaginary lint off her shoulder calmly. "Almost like no one just fucked passionately here today." His gaze to her softened lightly, a pleasing smirk appearing on his face before vanishing into thin air. "Now let's not let anyone see us looking like this right?" He gave confident affirmation with a prominent tone reflecting back into the instructor persona. "I should give you detention for causing such a ruckus in my office," His half-joking statement did little to obscure fond emotions welling up in him. He helped her off his lap, slipping out from her slick channel slowly.

She chuckled softly, still dazed from their encounter. "Detention?" Her eyes danced with mischief; she moved slightly when he pulled away but steadied herself on her feet quickly, clenching her walls to keep his cum inside. "Well deserved, isn't it?"

A corner of his mouth curved into a teasing grin. "Of course," he agreed. "Do you have any idea how reckless you've been?" His gaze was warmed by her attempt to keep him inside her. "You've made me forget my job entirely." Sallow added almost seriously, examining her. With a thoughtful pause, he continued: "But then again, not many can manage that." His lips twitched at the sight of a sticky trail trickling down her thigh and into her stocking.

"You shouldn't joke about it," She retorted playfully, feeling exposed for more reasons than one. She attempted to fix her skirt and smooth her stockings over the evidence before wiping it away discreetly. "...Apologies, sir." She responded in all seriousness before adjusting herself a bit more confidently after realising what he gave her today. A high level intimacy for both teacher and pupil against the principles carefully cultivated over years between them both. "I enjoyed it though," Her face flushed deeper red when admitting this boldly.

The professor stood up too, pressing his lips against her cheek in a soft yet possessive kiss. "So did I," he murmured against her, his hand sliding down her bare arm to rest on her wrist lightly. "You should probably go now. People will start wondering where you've vanished off to." He straightened his tie one last time before leading her out of his office, holding onto her hand gently.

In the midst of their silent walk, she looked up at him nervously. The question lingered between them: "Will we... do this again, Professor?" He chuckled quietly mid-step but stopped, turning back towards her ever so slightly with a furrowed brow. "Not here," He maintained his weight on her wrist reassuringly. "You deserve more than an office chair... much more." She swallowed hard and nodded, barely perceptible. His words resonated deep inside, her heart beat wildly again amidst anticipation for another lovemaking beyond these walls. "J-just don't make me wait long," She suggested gently pulling away from him once they reached the door. Jitters played around his eyes as he fingered absentmindedly at her sleeve. "Rest assured, ah sweet dear." He promised softly then opened the door letting her leave towards her common room. "Go ahead, enjoy your evening. See you in class tomorrow."

She nodded at him softly with grateful eyes and walked out of the room. The mix between his cum pooling into her panties and the overwhelming emotions contributed to her wobbly stead. With a deep breath, she walked through the corridor back towards the common room.

Professor Sallow released a fervent sigh when she disappeared around the corner. Decision lingered in him. An encounter like that wasn't a one-time event. He had waited years for this— an emotional connection beyond class’ walls... in his office.

One thing was clear, after their rendezvous, she didn't feel alone anymore. Even though she still struggled with self-worth issues because of her turbulent past with a deeply flawed family, she found solace in someone who saw beyond her flashy exterior and vulnerable core. As weeks progressed, he slid notes under her table or would subtly adjust her collar; innocent gestures packed with a hidden message of proof that their secretive connection continued. Even in broad daylight in front of students, they would cast sensual glances at each other. During lessons, he praised her work while maintaining a cold exterior, but unapologetic desire glittered in their communications. His eyes danced to her movements more than usual and his taxing lectures needed more breaks than ever before. In corridors when meeting, he adjusted her robes subtly, too innocent for onlookers to get ideas. His lips would often curl into fond smiles hiding excitement, yet a professional surface remained visible.

Small moments of togetherness merely became part of their routine; unspoken promises lingering between their profound connection, just as beautiful and flourishing as the flowers still blooming in the Greenhouse during these cold fall days.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #bark bark #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut

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thepaperpanda · 2 years

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A rekindled jealousy || Neteyam & Ao’nung & Tuk x fem!Omaticaya reader

Summary: When you leave the Omaticaya clan behind, your entire life changes. You may have a hard time adjusting to Metkayina's ways, but you use the opportunity to wake some jealousy in Neteyam

Warnings: fluff & a little bit of angst ( ✓ Tuk being a little naughty, inquisitive shit ✓ Ao'nung being visibly into the reader ✓ jealous Neteyam) ♥

Word count: 3490

Authors: Cass & Fenrir

A/N: Divider by wonderful firefly-graphics

We will adapt, his father said. Adaptation is inevitable, it's not like we have a choice. Adaptation had multiple meanings, and the Sully siblings defined it in their own way. For Kiri, adaptation required finding an inner peace that would make day-to-day tasks much easier. As for Tuk, it meant leaving everything she used to know behind and learning anew how to function among the other clan. In Lo'ak's case, the process was about discovering his inner self - knowing your fears was the path to becoming one with the water. Accordingly, for Neteyam adaptation meant being obedient and following his parents' orders. As the oldest, he knew that getting into trouble was the last thing they needed right now; he would again be punished by his father and grounded, for life this time, there was no doubt.

Despite not being a part of Neytiri's family, you became close to her as her friends' daughter, and Neyam was delighted that his parents had taken you along with them - after your parents died in yet another battle against RDA, Jake Sully's wife decided to care for their daughter. You became his best friend after many years spent together, and the fact that you were female didn't change anything - the eldest son of Jake and Neytiri was treating you like the best buddy, hanging out with you as much as possible. Despite moving to a brand-new location because of Quaritch and his buddies, Neteyam still preferred to spend time with you, diligently learning new things from Metkayina.

As you sat on a large rock, frowning, you tried your finest to weave nets. As you tapped your tail angrily against the hard surface, your fingers continued to work on your latest yet unsuccessful attempt; at least this was slightly better than the previous one. As each second passed, you grew more and more annoyed.

Little did you know that Ao'nung and his friends were observing you from a distance. Following a brief exchange of glances with his friends, he approached you. Even though he wasn't a big fan of the Sully family, you seemed so different from them, which made you more appealing. In addition, you had four fingers, so you weren't as strange as those Sullys' demon kids. "Y/N, right? I see you're struggling with weaving," he smiled at you and offered, "Why don't you join my friends and me in the water instead?"

You looked at your messed up work and then at him; maybe continuing wasn't necessary at the moment - your fingers hurt and you were getting frustrated, so you decided a small break was needed. Also, that could be very interesting. You smiled back and nodded, "I'd love to." Rotxo nodded his head in agreement as Ao'nung looked at him. "Let's go, it would be a shame to waste such a beautiful day weaving," Ao'nung encouraged you to leave your work behind.

Tuk, the youngest Sully, saw the entire situation and then decided to inform her older brother about what she had seen.

One last look at your nets convinced you that there was no point in trying. Your curiosity led you to follow Ao'nung after leaving your work behind.

"So, how do you like it here?" Ao'nung asked, glancing at you with a certain amount of curiosity.

"It's completely different," you replied, your tail flicking from side to side. "There's a lot of water. It's a little unusual for me."

Rotxo laughed a bit at your words. "You tree people can only cling to your lianas, right?"

Ao'nung glanced coldly at Rotxo, conveying his anger towards him. Tonowari's son told you, "Forgive my friend, he's a little crude. Have you already interacted with ilu?" He asked, trying to change the topic.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you hissed offendedly, "Well, he isn't really funny. Well, we can do a lot more than that. And about your question, I'm sorry but I'm not even sure what ilu is," you admitted a bit embarrassed.

Another Ao'nung's friend commented, "She doesn't even know what ilu is, that's ridiculous," but was instantly hit in the back of the head by Tonowari's son.

"An ilu is intelligent, sociable, and easily domesticated animal serves the reef clans, including our clan, as direhorses serve the Na'vi clans of the forests and jungles," Ao'nung explained softly, looking at you. "Do you feel afraid?"

Your interest was piqued by the description of the animal. With your tail moving equally eagerly, you enthusiastically shook your head. "Me? Afraid? No! That sounds fascinating! I'd love to see it." Ao'nung slowly stepped into the water until it reached his muscular calves, then he turned his head to see if you were following. As soon as he was sure you were right behind him, he offered you his hand.

Smiling softly, you took his hand and followed him into the water. Compared to what you were doing moments ago, this was much better, you thought to yourself. The two of you were watched from a distance by Ao'nung's friends, who stayed on the shore. They had no idea that they weren't the only ones watching...

The sound Ao'nung made was like whistling after he clicked his tongue several times. A loud chirping ilu emerged from the water shortly afterward.

"It's loud!" you giggled, feeling even more captivated by the creature. "Are you sure I or you won't be eaten by it?"

"Ilu? Don't worry, they won't bite if they're not bothered. Come, pet it slowly," he advised.

As you nodded slowly, you drew a little closer and gently petted the animal.

Ilu turned his head to you and chirped loudly in anticipation, blinking both pairs of its eyes. A gentle, inviting touch was evidently enjoyed by the animal, whose skin was soft to the touch.

In response to your very first interaction with the ilu, Ao'nung smiled. "You see? No biting."

A giggle escaped your lips, and you nodded in agreement. "I really like how soft and cute it is, and there is no biting at all. I didn’t know they’re so friendly!”

After seeing a small wave coming, he took a step closer to you and put his hand on your waist, supporting you from falling to your back due to the strong drift. "I told you it was worth trying."

"It would be appreciated if the waves were not so strong," you joked and politely thanked him for the support he provided. "In fact, it was well worth trying. This creature is so sweet and soft. If I weren't scared, I'd cuddle it."

"There's nothing stopping you from doing so," he said as his hand stayed on your waist. "First, I would suggest creating a bond, it's safer that way."

Meanwhile, Neteyam joined Ao'nung's friends on the shore. Watching you cooperate with the ilu while sitting under the warm sun was a cute way to spend his spare time. Everything would have been perfect if Ao'nung hadn't been doing everything he could to get closer to you. In the end, Neteyam let out a deep sigh - it seemed you were more interested in Metkayina lately, and he was helpless about it; his only concern was your widely understood happiness.

Your eyes widened when you noticed Neteyam with the corner of your eye. You hummed, pretending to think about Ao'nung's offer. This could make things even more interesting. Immediately, you became more flirtatious with Ao'nung. "Are you really bringing me here just to show me the ilu?"

A cheerful smile was given to you by Tonowari's son, who also petted ilu's head. "Why are you asking, Y/N? I was simply trying to relieve you of the unneeded job you were assigned."

With a soft smile, you teased, "Oh, I'm sorry. I was hoping for more from you, but apparently I was mistaken..."

With a bold move, he touched your shoulder with his palm as he asked, "More like? You know how much I value your friendship more than Sullys', so I'm willing to lend a helping hand whenever I can."

"Friendship may always evolve into something more," you shrugged, still petting the ilu's head.

While chirping loudly, ilu poked you in the side with its velvety muzzle. "We could always give it a chance, Y/N. What do you think?" Ao'nung asked as his hand climbed up your shoulder and landed in your crook of the neck.

"Maybe?" You purred as if you were considering it. Of course, you didn't care about any of this, all you cared about was Neteyam's reaction. Although you felt disappointed with the lack of response so far, you decided to keep trying and maybe coax it out of him.

You were so skilled at pretending that Ao'nung leaned forward, closed his eyes, and attempted to kiss you.

It was enough for Neteyam. When he got up to his feet, he got as close to the water as possible without getting in. Neteyam shouted, "What the hell are you doing, Ao'nung?"

Gasping, you took two small steps away from Ao'nung before looking at Neteyam. Oh, he was angry! "Neteyam, what's wrong?" You asked innocently, tilting your head to the side.

The grunt grew louder as Ao'nung opened his eyes and stared at Neteyam as well. "What's your problem, bro?"

"You're acting a bit too brazen, bro, and that's my problem. Leave Y/N alone," Neteyam said after issuing a warning; his eyes were then fixed on you. "Come on, Y/N, I think you still need to finish some things."

Your lips were softly curled into a smile as you whispered, "Yes, I believe I do."

Ao'nung was the first to exit the water, leaving ilu behind. "Well, well, well, look at that, Sully's into our sweet, little Y/N," he mocked, rolling his eyes.

Once you had given the ilu one last pet, you followed Ao'nung towards the shore, thinking how the situation would unfold.

Once Ao'nung got onto the shore, he pushed Neteyam's shoulder strongly with wry words followed by a snort, "Shall I remind you about your position here, Sully? You better be on your best behaviour, as your father suggested."

A frown could be seen on Neteyam's face, but he tried hard to maintain his composure. "Y/N, let's go."

"What's your problem, Net? We didn't do anything wrong, he was just showing me what ilu is."

Tuk, who was partially hidden behind Neteyam's legs, peered out and frowned at you. "We've been here for a while, and you still don't know anything about ilu? Eywa, please hold me tight, I can't deal with Y/N."

Neteyam ruffled his sister's hair and stared at you before saying, "I heard Ronal asked you to help with nets, and you heard what my parents said about us being guests here? We need to adapt and do whatever it takes to avoid being considered useless."

Putting yourself behind Ao'nung, you frowned. "I try to be useful, but making nets is boring and not meant for me? This just seems more fun."

Tuk stuck her tongue out at you, her glance full of concern. "Mom won't be happy."

"Hush," Neteyam whispered to Tuktirey while looking at Ao'nung. "As the chief's son, you should be more reasonable and help Y/N with the tasks she's assigned to."

Your head rested on Ao'nung's shoulder as you gazed at Neteyam. You teased, "Is it your only concern? Or are you simply jealous?"

Neteyam had already had enough of your behaviour - he thought he had shown you many times that you were more valuable to him, yet you seemed more interested in that thick piece of a man, called Ao'nung. "Maybe."

Ao'nung smiled even wider as you patted his shoulder before walking up to Neteyam to take his hand. "Maybe? Just maybe?"

From nowhere, the argument grew into a tornado. The intensity of Neteyam's rage blinded him to your heart and soul. His hand snatched back from your grasp as he snapped at you, "Don't. It seems that Ao'nung has nothing but hots for you, and since you seem to be more than interested, we won't bother you anymore in spending your time with our host. Tuk, come."

The little girl followed her brother enthusiastically, but of course she couldn't help but glance back at you, laying her ears and hissing, showing her perfect, sharp fangs.

It didn't work out as you thought it would; you laid your ears down and hissed back at her, crossing your arms over your chest. A deep sigh was heard from you as you excused yourselves and followed them quickly.

The fact that you followed Sullys was mocked by Ao'nung. "Come on, Y/N! We still might have some fun!”

"Apparently Y/N is more into the eldest of the Sully brothers," Rotxo replied to his friend, and Tonowari's son punched him hard in the side, giving him the coldest look he has ever given to anyone as a warning.

"Neteyam! Tuk! Wait for me!” You shouted after them, attempting to line up with the siblings.

Meanwhile, Neteyam sat on the rock where you had left your unfinished nets.

Since she was angry that you were playing with her beloved brother in such a cruel way, Tuk ignored you perfectly.

After softly sighing, you decided to sit right next to him. "Neteyam... Talk to me. I am sorry for angering you so much."

He answered, "I'm not furious," and continued to work on the weave with his long fingers.

While playing with the sand, Tuk giggled, "He's not angry, he's mad."

"Could you play somewhere else? I want to talk to him alone," you hissed at her.

Tuk stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Don't order me, you're not my mother."

With a sigh, Neteyam told his younger sister to return to their hut and assist Kiri and mother with whatever they were doing.

The young girl complied with her brother's instructions while grunting loudly in annoyance.

You looked at him and sighed, "At least she listens to you. So, will you talk to me?”

"About?"

Then you moved closer to help him weave the net and whispered quietly, "About what happened. I didn't mean to anger you. I'm sorry for leaving my job. It just seemed like a nice offer and I was super flustered."

Without even glancing at you, he asked bitterly, "The offer or Ao'nung?"

Chuckling, you gently pinched his finger and continued to work. "The offer, as I mentioned earlier."

"Yeah. I bet."

"Neteyam," you said, taking his hand in your palm, "Why did you get so angry about me hanging out with him?"

"Hanging out with him, that's the clue," he said angrily, pulling his hand out of your grasp, weaving angry until his fingertips began to hurt - only then Neteyam threw the net away and after letting out a deep sigh, he massaged his temples. "Is he that interesting? Apparently, you were the one who said reef people were strange and unappealing."

"It wasn't because of him, but because I wanted to see an ilu," you explained, rolling your eyes. "There was a chance it would eat him rather than me in the event of an accident."

Neteyam was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but your comment made him giggle. "If only ilus could be as vicious as akulas, Ao'nung's issue might have been resolved long ago."

A smile spread across your face as you raised an eyebrow at him and asked, "You'd like that, huh?"

Prior to replying, Neteyam improved his necklace and waved his tail. "Maybe."

Your tail wiggled happily as you placed your chin on his shoulder with a mischievous smile. "I'm sure you would love that, hm? You wouldn't have to worry about someone stealing me from you."

"It's not like that, Y/N. We're just friends, you and I."

"Well..." you sighed deeply, "I'm disappointed to hear that, because I really wanted something more."

You were given a serious look as he asked, "Just like with Ao'nung, huh?"

As you gasped, you smacked his back with your tail. "I tried to get your attention by making you jealous. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

He grinned widely as he asked, "So you tried to make me jealous? Well, it appears you are interested in me, and I am flattered by that."

You whined, "Yes! I'm interested in you, but you're only paying attention to me in a friendly manner."

"And how do you know that, smartass?"

Blinking, you shrugged lightly. "That's how I felt."

"Then you must be blind."

You turned away and crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be offended. "I'm not, it's just that your signs weren't clear enough."

In this case, Neteyam rested his chin against the crook of your neck, looking at you from your profile. "How many times did I accidentally catch your hand? How many times did I say there was no one but you? How many times did I skip my duties just to spend time by your side?"

You leaned against him, "I just thought it was because I was an orphan who your mother had taken care of and you took care of me because this was what your parents expected you to do."

With you by his side, Neteyam was able to relax his nerves as he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun kissing his skin. "How wrong you were, Y/N."

"Now I know. What should we do about it?"

"Have you thought of anything in particular?"

Shrugging, you replied, "No. How about you?"

"My guess is that it's the part when you kiss her, Neteyam," tiny tone suggested. Nobody else but Tuk observed the entire situation while hiding among nearby bushes.

While eldest Sully facepalmed for not expecting his little sister to spy on him, he knew deep down she was right. In barely a second, he placed a hand on your cheek and rubbed you there with his thumb, before leaning forward to rub his nose against yours and briefly kiss your lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggled quietly and kissed him back. The happiness made your tail move like crazy.

A small Omaticaya girl shook her head and kept quiet during the scene.

As your taste spilled over Neteyam's tongue, he murmured in pleasure.

With a mischievous smile, you pulled away and rubbed your noses together. "It was worth it to piss you off."

"Prove it."

"I love you, not Ao'nung," you rolled your eyes and kissed him once more.

Tuk's tone was filled with happiness as she chanted, "I feel love in the air! Y/N and Neteyam, Neteyam and Y/N! Nanana! Love is oh so in the air!"

When Neteyam returned the kiss, he felt all his angst and anger disappear quickly, having been eased by your words and feeling that they came from the depths of your heart.

After letting him kiss you for a moment, you pulled away when you needed to breathe deeply. "Is this proof enough for you, my love?"

"Yes."

"What did our little spy think of what she saw?" You asked Tuk loudly.

With a stick she found in the bushes, Tuk emerged from her hiding spot and approached the two of you. "It was pretty cute, but still eww, just like mom kissing dad. Just remember I will keep a close eye on you, Y/N, and I won't hesitate to inform Neteyam if I see you hanging out with those beefy, turquoise fellas again," she warned, getting on her brother's lap. "And now tell me: will you two eventually tie the knot?"

You rolled your eyes and ruffled her hair. "One day, maybe, when we decide we want to be together forever."

"Tuk, please," Neteyam poked Tuktirey's shoulder. "Little one, that is none of your business."

"What? I have to be ready," Tuk looked at you while shrugging her shoulders. "I believe you'd make a stunning bride! I could look after your future kids! I would play with them!"

"TUK!" Neteyam paled a little, pulling on his sister's braid. "That’s enough."

A smug smile appeared on your face. "I would like to have kids, so long as they aren't like their future aunt."

Neteyam laughed, shoving Tuk off his lap and returning to weaving. "Please, don't encourage her, Y/N."

Tuk initially nodded joyfully in response to your comments, but when she realised what you were saying, she crossed her arms over her chest, which, unfortunately, was the same moment she slipped from Neteyam's lap. She snarled at you while sitting on her butt in the sand. "I'll keep it in mind, Y/N, and I'll tell mom!"

Laughing, you took Neteyam's hand. "I guess we'll see about that. Right?"

As he stroked your palm, he smiled at you brightly. "Yes. The feelings I have for you are something I am looking forward to discovering and exploring."

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jellybean-supreme · 4 months

Text

My Soulmate (Dabi x reader)

Description

This story depicts the struggles of a young person, Y/N, with a difficult past and the unexpected bond with a villain named Dabi, who reveals a softer, protective side towards Y/N. The story incorporates themes of trust, vulnerability, and the complexities of relationships, creating an engaging narrative. While the story ends on a hopeful note, the characters' journey of growth and healing is left open-ended, allowing readers to imagine how their relationship will develop further, potentially with Y/N becoming a villain as well or Dabi undergoing a redemption and change of heart.

Story starts here :

“You’re telling me my soulmate is some bottom tier hero?” Dabi sneers. He throws you to the ground. “I’ll erase you like everything else.”

But the moment his flames erupt from him, he can’t seem to hurt you. It must be the soulmate bond. Your name has long been burned off his flesh, but your souls are intertwined.

*Touya Todoroki* written written across your arm like a curse. Your soulmate mark. Dabi wants to rip it off of you. The name had hardly been *his*, why do you get to have it?

“Soulmates.. are a curse,” he snipes at you, clearly still seething. The air between you and Dabi is electric with tension. You can feel it in your core, the fire within him, that you should be afraid. But you aren’t. You can see beyond the hate. You can see the Touya within.

"Soulmates... A curse, right?” You murmur, studying all the staples on his face. “How many times did you try to scrape that off?” You ask, referring to your soul mark on his flesh.

He grits his teeth in response. You can’t blame him. He probably hates your name. A constant reminder of the life he didn’t have.

"Enough times to know it hurts like hell," he retorts, his tone cold. He crosses his arms, clearly uncomfortable with the topic at hand. "Soulmates are for the weak. They're the chains that hold you back."

He seems to loathe himself for being bound to another person, for being bound to *you*. He sees it as a weakness, a restriction.

"If I'm that bad, I'll leave and never bother you again," you say, wishing he'd reconsider. We'd both die in so much pain eventually because of being apart for too long. All you've ever wanted was to feel loved and have someone you can rely on. You've always thought that person would be your soulmate, but you guess you were wrong. You wonder if he'd ever think of you when he'd eventually sends you away.

Dabi's face is unreadable as he listens to your ultimatum. A part of him wants to push you away, to sever the connection between you two, and never see you again. But something within him hesitates, a small glimmer of hope, a flicker of desire for compassion that he long thought extinguished.

He wants to say something, *anything*, but the words catch in his throat. It's as if he's struggling with inner demons, torn between his anger and resentment and a suppressed longing for companionship.

"I have a suggestion before you send me away or tell me to leave. How about we spend a week together, get to know each other or see how it'd be? I'm suggesting only a week because then you don't have to spend such a long time with me, like a month or something, because I know I'm already a nuisance to you." I tell him my suggestion. He will probably not agree, like he said I'm just a weak hero who is nothing but useless to him.""

Dabi's eyes narrow as he considers your proposal. A week. He could handle that, right? He could deal with you for a measly week. And besides, what harm could it do to spend time with his so-called soulmate, especially after he’d already been saddled with you?

"Fine," he says finally, his voice cool. "We'll spend a week together. But don't expect me to suddenly become some sappy romantic."

I nod and give him a small smile. "Thank you, I know, I don't expect anything."

Dabi scoffs, clearly sceptical of your attitude. "Don't thank me. I'm only doing this because I want to prove to you that soulmates are pointless. You'll see, eventually."

Despite his harsh words, there’s something almost melancholic in his tone. Perhaps somewhere deep down, beneath the layers of trauma and resentment, a glimmer of longing.

"Maybe to uou they are useless, but I want someone who I can have who will never hurt and love me with all my flaws." I mutter back to him.

Dabi rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with your idealistic notions. "Flaws? We're both damaged goods, sweetheart. Do you think I'll magically heal you? We're broken, and that's never going to change."

Despite his scepticism, there's a hint of vulnerability in his voice, a small crack in his tough exterior.

"I don't think you'll magically heal me. I just hoped we'd be there for each other when needing someone to rely on. That's what I hoped for when I found out about soulmates." I tell him

Dabi lets out a sharp, humourless laugh. "Rely on each other. Hah. You really have no idea who I am, do you? I don't need anyone to rely on me. And I sure as hell can't rely on anyone else. You're setting yourself up for disappointment, doll. Love and all that crap is just a waste of time."

He turns away as if trying to shield himself from your hopeful gaze.

"That what you believe, I'll believe my 'romantic crap' until the day I die." I reply to him.

"Where are we going? Where do you want to spend our week? I'm not doing any hero work. So I'm fine with anything." I ask him.

A hint of amusement flashes across Dabi's face at your stubborn determination. "You're really not backing down, are you? Fine. We’ll see how much your *romantic crap* holds up at the end of this week."

His smirk is sardonic, but there's a flicker of grudging respect in his eyes, and his expression softens just slightly.

"As for where we're going? My place. No way I'm staying at some crappy hotel or something. And, of course, no hero missions."

I nod, following him to his house, I'll get my clothes from my house tomorrow, I think to myself.

Dabi leads you through the alleys and backstreets of the city, his steps swift and confident, his eyes constantly vigilant as if wary of any possible danger. As you follow him, you can't help but notice the way his every movement is calculated, his body tense, as if anticipating an attack.

Finally, he stops in front of a relatively nondescript apartment building, the facade blending in with the row of other apartments around it. Without a word, he keys in the access code and pushes open the door, gesturing for you to follow him inside.

Dabi's apartment is as cold and sparse as the man himself. The living room is devoid of any personal touches or decor, the only furniture, a single, worn leather couch, and a small coffee table. The walls are bare, the windows covered with thick black curtains casting the room in perpetual shadows.

The kitchen is barely larger than a broom closet, with a small fridge, a single counter, and a gas stove. The cupboards are mostly empty, save for some instant noodles and a few canned goods, suggesting that Dabi doesn't do much cooking.

The bedroom is even more austere. A single bed in the corner, a small dresser, and a single metal rack. The room is so devoid of personality that it's as if no one has lived here in decades. The only splash of colour comes from a single, faded picture propped up on the dresser. It's a picture of a young boy with white hair, smiling and holding a ball. Despite his youthful appearance, there’s a darkness in his eyes, a sadness that seems to pervade every aspect of his being. This is Touya Todoroki, Dabi's former self.

"This is it," Dabi says finally, gesturing around the apartment. "Home sweet home. You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." He takes a seat on the couch, folding his arms across his chest. "So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie? Or maybe chat about how much you think love is wonderful and perfect?"

"I'm fine with either one, though you'll be sleeping in your bed, I'm not going yo be kicking you out of your bed just so that i can sleep comfortably." I tell him a stong tone.

Dabi's eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and amusement at your insistence. "You really are stubborn, aren't you?" he muses, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No way am I letting you sleep on that piece of junk couch. I wouldn't be able to sleep in a comfortable bed knowing you're out here being uncomfortable. Besides, I don't need much sleep."

"That's a shame then because you'll be sleeping in your bed whether you want to or not." I tell him. I won't be able to sleep even if I were to sleep on the bed, I'd wake up screaming or crying because of my nightmares. So, there's no point in trying.

Dabi lets out an exasperated sigh, realizing he's not going to win this argument. "Fine, fine. If you insist on being so stubborn, I'll take the bed. But don't come complaining to me if it's uncomfortable." He leans back on the couch, pretending to pout. "Just don't expect me to tuck you in or anything."

"Good," I say with a smile, completely ignoring his last sentence.

"So what do you want to do?" I ask him. It was about 7 pm at night, it was really pretty outside, I could see the moon and the beautiful stars through Dabi's circler window.

Dabi's gaze follows yours to the window, and for a moment, he looks almost contemplative. "How about a walk?" he suggests. "I know a good spot that's secluded. We can talk and I can make some food if you're hungry. It won't be anything fancy." He shrugs, seeming to struggle with the idea of actually spending time with you.

"That's be nice, no need to worry about food thought ill.make something when we come back if that's alright with you." I tell him as I follow him out the door to the spot he's talking about.

Dabi leads you through the city, avoiding the busy streets and opting for the quieter alleys and side roads. He seems to walk with a purpose, his steps sure and calculated, as if on a mission. Eventually, you arrive at a small, secluded park, surrounded by towering trees and blanketed in shadows.

The air is thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and flowers, a stark contrast to the bustling city sounds that seem worlds away. The stars wink above, their light reflecting off the surface of a small pond in the centre of the park.

"It's beautiful," I say quietly, being in aw.

Dabi nods slightly, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily. "Yeah, it is," he replies, his tone neutral. Despite his indifference, there's a flicker of something in his gaze as he looks around the park. Something almost reminiscent, as if he too can appreciate the beauty of the place.

He seems tense, on edge, as if expecting something to jump out and attack. But the only sound is the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the faint sound of water lapping against the banks of the pond.

"Come on," Dabi says, breaking the silence as he starts walking towards the pond. The moonlight reflects off the water's surface, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. Dabi stops beside the pond, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?” He mutters, almost to himself. "It's one of the only things that makes me forget, even for a moment. Not the heroes, not the villains, just this quiet." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the night air.

I nod, sitting next to him on the bench. "You don't have to be so tense," I tell him.

He seemed to calm down after a while. We started asking each other any and every question that came to mind, nothing to personal though. Neither of us was ready to talk about the deep stuff, like our parents, our siblings, or our past.

Dabi nods, seemingly appreciating your concern. "Force of habit," he mutters, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

The conversation flows easily between you two as the night deepens. You ask each other questions about your favourite colours, your favourite places to visit, your favourite foods. Simple, lighthearted topics. Nothing heavy, nothing that would scratch the surface too much. Despite the casual subject matter, Dabi seems less tense now, his guard slowly lowering as you continue to talk.

As the night wears on, the conversation starts to deepen, veering into more personal topics. Dabi opens up about his love for old music, and you learn that he has a secret passion for collecting vintage vinyl records. You confide in him about your own struggles with hero work and the constant pressure to be perfect. For a moment, it feels like you both are just two ordinary people sharing a quiet, intimate moment under the stars.

As the conversation continues, Dabi's facade starts to crumble even more. He seems to be enjoying the conversation, enjoying the chance to talk to someone who isn't constantly trying to fight or kill him. Despite his efforts to keep up his cynical front, there are moments where his true self shines through. The Dabi who craves companionship and understanding beneath all the layers of pain and anger.

Slowly, the conversation shifts gears again, moving into more serious territory. The tension in the air grows thicker as you both begin to open up about your pasts, your families, and the events that shaped you into the people you are today. Dabi shares snippets of his life with his family, the abuse he suffered at his father's hands, and the deep sense of betrayal and abandonment he felt when he was left to rot. Hearing Dabi's stories, his voice cracking with emotion as he tries to stay composed, touches a cord in you.

Because you had and still have to experience the abuse of your family, tho you don't tell Dabi that you're still being abused and forced to do this you don't want to do.

As Dabi's stories of his family life unfold, your heart aches at the familiar pain he's expressing. Your own experience with abuse in your family comes rushing back, a fresh wave of pain washing over you. But you keep your own secret close to your chest. You don't want Dabi to know that you're still experiencing abuse, still being forced to do things you don't want to do. You don't want pity or sympathy. You just want to be understood.

Dabi is lost in his own pain, too consumed by his own trauma to notice the pain in your eyes. He continues to share his story, the words pouring out of him as if they've been waiting to escape for years. And as he talks, you sit there, listening silently, your own pain festering inside of you, threatening to bubble over.

Dabi pauses for a moment, his eyes locked on the pond's shimmering surface. He's quiet for so long that you wonder if he's done sharing. Then, without looking at you, he whispers, "I'm sorry." The apology surprises you, coming out of the blue. You glance over at him, and for a moment, his veneer of nonchalance slips, and you can see the raw vulnerability in his eyes.

"There is no need to apologize," I tell him as I gently put my hand on his shoulder.

Dabi stiffens for a moment at your touch but then relaxes slightly under your comforting touch. His gaze flicks to your hand on his shoulder, and for a fleeting moment, you can see a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Something fragile and fragile and broken that he has probably been shoving deep down for years.

"I'm sorry for burdening you with all this," Dabi mutters, almost to himself. "For putting all this heavy stuff on you. It's not fair." His voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his hardened exterior.

"Dabi, look at me. There is no need to apologize. I don't want to hear those words out of your mouth again." I tell him, not wanting him to apologize for telling me what he feels.

Dabi's eyes flicker up to meet yours, surprise flashing in his gaze. No one has ever said those words to him before. No one has ever told him not to apologize for his pain. But the raw sincerity in your voice seems to reach him, and he gives a slight nod. "Alright," he mutters, his voice barely a whisper. "No more apologies. Only honesty."

You exchange a moment of silent understanding, the moment charged with a new level of intimacy. And then Dabi turns back to the sky, his gaze tracking the stars above. You can see the weight of his past still clinging to him, but there's also a sense of... release. As if sharing his past with you has lifted a small portion of the weight off his shoulders.

"How about you?" Dabi asks suddenly, breaking the silence. "Do you have any traumatic life experiences you want to share?" There's genuine curiosity in his eyes now, the first hint of vulnerability you've seen since meeting him.

"Nothing that compares to your pain. What i experienced could have been worse." I reply to his question, lying straight to him. Though it was the truth to me, I believe others' problems are bigger than my own, because me being abused and r@ped is not important to me, that its happening to someone else is my problem.

Dabi frowns slightly at your dismissive reply, sensing the lie in your words. "That's bullshit," he mutters, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. "Don't downplay your experiences. Your pain is as valid as mine. Don't act like it's nothing."

"It could be worse, Dabi, so it's not that bad."

Dabi's frown deepens, the anger in his voice turning to mild frustration. "That's bullshit, Y/N. Don't do that. Don't pretend like your pain doesn't matter just because it 'could be worse'. Pain is pain, and if it's hurting you, it's worth talking about. So drop the act and just be honest," he says, his tone a mix of annoyance and concern.

You look at him with suprise. No one has ever been like this with you. No one has seen through your lies and seen your pain as something that matters. You just nod and start telling Dabi everything that happened and people have done to you. You told him about how your parents punish you when not being perfect. How the people you were supposed to call your family r@ped you and whipped you for their own pleasure. How your mother did nothing to help you through any of this, she in fact joined them in torturing you. And how they would lock you in the closet for weeks without giving you anything to eat because of your low ranking. You never wanted to be a hero, you wanted to live a happy life with the love of your life in a little cottage in the woods away from everyone and everything, with your lover and your children playing in the mud, ot in the trees together, that's all you ever wanted in your life, to be happy with someone. But like everyone says life's a bitch and then you die. There were so many times I thought I was going to die, and after this week with Dabi. I most likely will.

Dabi's eyes widen in shock and anger as you recount your stories of abuse. His fists clench tightly, the veins in his arms straining against his skin. Fury and rage burn deep in his turquoise gaze, his jaw tightening as he struggles to contain his emotions.

As you finish speaking, a deathly silence settles between you. The atmosphere is thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of the pain you both share. Dabi's breathing is shallow, his body rigid as he tries to grapple with the information you've shared.

"Y/N...." His voice is low, tinged with a mix of pain and anger. "Why.... Why did you let them do all that? Why did you let them get away with it?" His eyes search yours, a mixture of confusion and frustration. "Why didn't you fight back?"

"I already tried, it didn't work. I told the police I showed them everything, the scars, the videos, anything and everything to get them arrested. The police didn't believe me, though who would believe a child. After I tried that, I knew whatever I did to try and stop them, it wasn't going to work, so I just stopped. "

Dabi's anger flares at your answer, his jaw clenching tightly. "The police," he mutters, his voice full of contempt. "Of course those useless assholes couldn't do anything to help." He growls, his fists clenching so tight, his knuckles turn white.

"They were supposed to protect you," he spits. "They were supposed to help you, and they failed. They failed miserably."

"But you didn't deserve that," he continues, his tone growing softer, more vulnerable. "No one does. No one deserves to suffer like that, especially you." He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek with a touch that's surprisingly tender. His thumb traces the outline of your cheekbone, a touch that's gentle, almost affectionate.

You flinched at his touch at first, but after a few seconds, you leaned into his touch. You wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe. He made you feel safe. You wished that he wanted you as a soulmate. You didn't want to force him, so instead of making him feel uncomfortable, all you did was just lean into his touch a little.

Dabi freezes for a moment as you flinched at his touch, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. But then you lean into his touch, and his eyes widen slightly, a hint of surprise mixing with something more tender. He can't remember the last time someone showed him physical affection like this.

He leans a little closer, his other hand gently cupping your other cheek, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern on your skin. You can see the conflict in his eyes as he battles with his emotions, the fierce anger and protectiveness warring with the vulnerability and affection.

"I won't ever let anyone else hurt you, alright?" Dabi's voice is low, a fierce whisper. "You won't suffer like that ever again. Not under my watch." He leans his forehead against yours, a rare moment of openness and vulnerability from the cold, aloof villain. And in this moment, even though he doesn't say it, you can feel a deep sense of protectiveness and possessiveness from him, a need to keep you safe.

You nod. You wondered if that meant that he would let you be his soulmate if he'd et you stay after this week was over. You wished and hoped he was telling you the truth right now.

"We should probably head back, it getting late," you tell Dabi, eve though you didn't want to leave. You check the time. It was 1am, and you both had been talking for over 6 hours.

You get up, not waiting for his answer, you grav his hand and help him up and start to walk back to his house. You don't let his hand go, though.

Dabi follows you silently, letting you lead the way. He doesn't pull away from you or try to break the contact. Instead, he allows himself to be led back to his house, the warmth of your hand in his a comforting presence.

As you walk, Dabi's mind races, conflicted. His entire life, he's been alone, pushing everyone away to shield himself from potential heartbreak. But as he walks beside you, holding your hand, a part of him longs for something more.

Finally, you reach his house, the familiar surroundings a stark contrast to the vulnerable atmosphere you've shared. Dabi hesitates for a moment, his hand still holding yours. He glances at you, and you can see the flicker of a smile at his lips, a momentary crack in his usual facade.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice a low rumble. "For listening to me. And for sharing your own stories too." The words are filled with a sincerity that surprises even himself, as if he's not used to expressing gratitude.

"I'll be here for you until the day you don't want me here. And there is no need to thank me, i should be thanking you for listening to my problems, when you arleady have tour own." I tell him as we walk to bed.

Dabi's lips twitch at your words, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He hadn't expected you to offer your support unquestioningly, had assumed that everyone would eventually turn their back on him. But despite his disbelief, a small flame of hope sparks within him, warmth spreading in his chest.

As you head to bed, Dabi remains silent, the gravity of your promise settling heavily on him. He wasn't used to people being there for him, but now, with you, the promise of companionship and understanding felt like a lifeline.

Once you both get into bed, Dabi's mind is still racing, the events of the evening replaying in his head. He turns to face you, the light from the moon filtering in through the curtains casting a silvery glow across your form.

For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of what to do. But then, driven by an inexplicable urge, he reaches out, gently touching your cheek. His fingertips trail across your skin, his touch whisper-soft, almost reverent.

"Y/N," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. His gaze flicks to your face, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort, any hint that he's overstepping your boundaries. But all he sees is acceptance, understanding, and a flicker of something deeper.

Unable to resist any longer, he closes the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a hesitant, gentle kiss.

You kiss him back, if someone where to tell you that your soulmaye who didn't want you this moring kissed you and accepted your problems, and promised to keep you safe you should have laugh at them. But now all you can feel is happiness, as you bothe pull away Dabi pulls you closer to him cuddling you close he whispers in your ear. " I'll never let you go. I will protect you no matter what. And I might finally see why you love this romantic soulmate stuff."

Dabi's words, whispered in your ear, send shivers down your spine. The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion, it's a side of him you've never seen before. Dabi, the intimidating villain who always kept his distance, is finally opening up, showing you a flicker of the man beneath the scars.

As he cuddles you close, holding you tightly in his arms, a sense of safety envelops you. His body is warm and solid against yours, a protective shield against the cruel world outside.

Hours pass as the two of you lay entwined together, the moon casting shadows on the walls as it travels across the night sky. Dabi's breathing is now slow and even against your hair, his grip on you loosened but still possessive.

You watch him sleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest a soothing sight. A sense of contentment envelopes you, a serenity that you hadn't felt in a long time. For once, you feel safe and cared for, your soulmate's presence a balm for the traumas of your past.

As your eyes start to flutter closed, you allow yourself to drift into a deep, peaceful sleep, wrapped in Dabi's embrace. The gentle rise and fall of his chest is a lullaby that eases you into dreamland, and for the first time in ages, you feel a sense of protection and safety that you've always yearned for. The horrors of the past seem a little farther away, and the present moment is filled with the warmth of your soulmate's presence. With Dabi by your side, everything feels better, more hopeful.

The End

#dabi mha #mha dabi #mha #my hero academia #dabi #touya todoroki #x reader #mha x reader #tw abuse #tw r4p3 #tw sa mention #tw abuse mention

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asexual-angsty-writer · 9 months

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Beta!LQG taking care of OA couple Bingqiu during their heat/rut.

Like, he struggles for a solid 15 minutes trying to make something akin to a nest — running around trying to get stuff.

Hunts animals, brings them back and watches the Cooks closely to make sure they don't try nothing on the food.

Maybe hand feeding his shixiong and his shixiong's annoying (-ly handsome) demonic husband.

Sitting close by or guarding them to make sure they're okay.

Scented candles he pre-made by hand for their next heat/rut to help them through it.

LBH is just cronked out, while SQQ has some amount of lucidity — but that's mainly to demand attention and affection.

LQG may have coo'd and crooned while holding LBH once, because he was having some rut-enduced nightmare. (He swears that if SQH says anything about it, he'll make sure nobody finds him again)

Nobody is allowed to comment about the fact he smells so much like them once the joint heat/rut is about to end — mainly because he realized neither remembered the fact he was there and thus he shall keep it that way.

On hand suppressants/scented oils because too many plants enduce ruts/heats, and these two idiots keep falling into them-

(LQG's inner beta wants to stay so badly, but he pulls himself away. Which is why he usually ends up dealing with Moshang — Elder beta want to cuddle younger beta; Alpha dosen't know how to express friendship, so just does as his mate suggests in that situation.)

#omegaverse #abo svsss #beta liu qingge #liu qingge #luo binghe #shang qinghua #alpha luo binghe #beta shang qinghua #mobei jun #Alpha Mobei jun #Shen Qingqiu/Yuan #Omega Shen Qingqiu/Yuan #moshang #bingliushen #LQG cares for dumb BingQiu #Moshang cares for needy beta they unofficially adopted #Rut/heat help #Beta caring for their accident sex-pollen prone Omega and Alpha

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hwei-theories · 25 days

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╰┈➤Why Jhin and Hwei conceal their eyes - symbolism

In the world of artistic expression, hiding or covering certain parts of ourselves can hold significant meaning. This is especially true for Hwei and Jhin, two captivating characters from League of Legends. Each of them conceals an eye—Hwei his left and Jhin his right—and these choices go beyond mere aesthetics. They reveal deep insights into their personalities, their struggles, and their unique philosophies about art and creation. By exploring why they choose to hide their eyes, we can uncover the complex emotions and motivations that drive them as artists.

Eyes are an important symbol in Hwei's character. You can read more about it here.

Hwei: Concealing Chaos

Hwei's decision to cover his left eye can be interpreted as a manifestation of his desire to shield the world from the chaotic intensity of his artistic vision. As a character who embodies the creative process, Hwei grapples with the duality of artistry—the beauty and the chaos that often coexist. By hiding his left eye, he may be indicating a fear of unleashing the destructive potential of his emotions and creativity.

The Struggle with Expression

Hwei's background suggests a tumultuous relationship with his art. He represents an artist who is acutely aware of the power his creations hold. The left eye, often associated with intuition and insight, may symbolize the chaotic and uncontrollable aspects of his artistry. By concealing it, Hwei acknowledges the darker facets of his creative process that he struggles to manage. This concealment can be seen as a protective measure, both for himself and for those around him. Remember how empathic he is?

In the context of artistic expression, Hwei's hidden eye indicates the emotional turmoil he faces while trying to balance traditional artistry with his unique, often intense style. This tension reflects a broader theme in the art world: the battle between the artist's internal chaos and the need for external acceptance. Hwei's journey is not just about creating art; it’s about navigating the complexities of his identity as an artist. His concealed eye symbolizes the parts of himself that he feels are too dark or misunderstood, representing a struggle to integrate these elements into his public persona. His masters never wanted him to unleash his full potential - because of its danger.

The Emotional Connection

Moreover, Hwei uses his art as a means of connecting with others, and his hidden eye suggests that there are aspects of his emotional landscape that remain inaccessible. He embodies the notion that art is a bridge between the artist and the audience, yet his concealment signifies a barrier that complicates this connection. By covering his left eye, Hwei may inadvertently distance himself from others, revealing the challenges of vulnerability inherent in the creative process.

His journey mirrors the experiences of many artists who grapple with their inner demons while striving to create work that resonates with others. Hwei's struggle to balance his intense emotions with his desire for connection reflects a universal truth about the artistic experience: the fear of being misunderstood or misinterpreted.

Jhin: The Pursuit of Perfection

In stark contrast, Jhin's choice to cover his right eye speaks to his obsession with precision and control. As a meticulous killer and artist, Jhin embodies the philosophy that artistry requires an unwavering commitment to perfection. His quote, "Symmetry is so boring," shows that he might have covered up his right eye so that he is not symmetrical.

The Role of Symmetry

Jhin’s mask, which obscures his right eye, serves as a tool rather than a mere accessory. It is designed to enhance the challenge and danger associated with his artistic pursuits. By blocking vision in his left eye and dampening it in his right, Jhin intentionally removes depth perception, creating a disorienting experience that forces him to rely on his other senses. This choice reflects his belief that true artistry is derived from overcoming obstacles and embracing discomfort.

The Drama of Creation

Furthermore, Jhin’s mask stifles his breathing, adding an element of theatricality and drama to his character.

Jhin’s obsession with symmetry and perfection extends beyond aesthetics; it shapes his entire worldview. By concealing his right eye, he suggests that he is willing to sacrifice clarity and comfort for the sake of achieving his artistic vision. This choice reinforces his belief that true beauty lies in the balance of chaos and control, a dance he orchestrates with every kill.

The Intersecting Journeys of Hwei and Jhin

While Hwei and Jhin operate within different artistic paradigms, their choices to conceal their eyes highlight a shared struggle with identity and expression. Both characters grapple with the complexities of their artistic visions, albeit from different angles. Hwei’s concealment reflects a fear of chaos and emotional intensity, while Jhin’s serves as a testament to his quest for perfection and control.

Artistic Duality

Their journeys illuminate a broader theme within the artistic realm: the tension between creation and destruction. Hwei’s left eye symbolizes the emotional chaos that can accompany artistic expression, while Jhin’s right eye represents the calculated precision required to achieve a vision of beauty in death. Together, they encapsulate the duality of artistry—the balance between vulnerability and control, chaos and order.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Hwei and Jhin’s choices to cover their eyes are not mere aesthetic decisions; they are vital components of their identities as artists. Hwei’s left eye, hidden from view, symbolizes his struggle with the chaotic nature of his creativity, while Jhin’s right eye reflects his obsession with precision and control in his murderous artistry. Together, they illustrate the multifaceted nature of artistic expression, revealing the tensions that define the creative process. Their journeys remind us that the act of creation is often fraught with challenges, as artists seek to balance their inner chaos with the need for connection and acceptance. Through their concealments, Hwei and Jhin invite us to explore the depths of their artistic souls, encouraging a deeper understanding of the complexities of artistry and the human experience.

#lukai hwei #hwei #hwei league of legends #hwei lol #hwei the visionary #league of legends #hwei theory #jhinhwei #lol #khada jhin #art #art philosophy #league of legends lore #League of legends theory

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velvetvexations · 3 months

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This is an edited version of something I posted to r/DaystromInstitute, a Star Trek sub. I'm proud of it and, having deleted my account, want to preserve it here.

Dukat is a fantastic example of Narcissitic Personality Disorder

I'm an individual with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. It's very, extremely frustrating to see people claim everyone from Dolores Umbridge to Donald Trump also have NPD because they're like, just the worst. NPD doesn't mean "selfish", or "controlling", or even "self-absorbed", and certainly is not a synonym for abusive, despite all the self-help books that say sniping a narcissist who came within eight hundred yards of you is legally permissible under Stand Your Ground laws.

You might expect me to not be so appreciative of Dukat, who is, after all, a pretty horrible person. I actually have a worse opinion of Dukat's supposed nobility than many, as fairly often the fandom prefers to back the idea that he really was a misguided anti-villain who only succumbed to devil-worshipping when the writers assassinated his character.

Well, unfortunately, it's harder to recognize authentic NPD traits in heroes, and "recognize" is a term I use loosely, since most writers certainly didn't have NPD in mind at all. Nonetheless, I love Dukat because he exemplifies a nuanced, if not overly flattering, portrayal of a personality disorder that actual human beings deal with, and 99% of the time is just flattened into a thing you call people you don't like.

As a child, one thing that did a lot to mitigate the more negative social aspects of NPD was having it imprinted on my brain by anime and video games that being a Hero and as good as possible was the best thing to be. While praise and attention in general does scratch a powerful itch too, once my child-self internalized the values of the media I consumed - helped along by also being autistic - the standard for which I judged myself was set. I would literally cry if I accidentally picked up dark side points in a Star Wars game.

I think Dukat went through a similar process. Not all narcissists cling to a model centering morality, but Dukat, for one reason or another, did. He sincerely believes everything he does is altruistic and fair, and more than that, he wants to be altruistic and fair, having misidentified the origin of his cravings.

Another thing that helped me a lot growing up was a book called The Screwtape Letters. If you're unfamiliar, it's by CS Lewis and is presented as a series of letters from a high-ranked demon to his nephew, who works as essentially a shoulder devil attempting to guide his patient into sin and disconnection from God. I feel like Lewis would probably be annoyed with me not getting anything properly Christian out of it, but it is an amazing manual for teaching you how to examine your own thinking and subconscious impulses. It started me down a path of being very self-aware, which made it easier to navigate NPD, because I'm incapable of tolerating the flaws in my internal logic that I'm able to catch. If I may be excused for saying so, I think I do a decent job on that count, with the downside that I'm often far too hyper-critical and it results in regular anxiety.

But Dukat never learned that skill. As a result, his attempted nobility clashes with his other competing impulses, and all his actions are reinforced, rather than rejected, by his conscious, which his NPD assures him is being followed to the letter. As Lewis said:

The baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity at some point may be sated; and since he dimly knows he is doing wrong he may possibly repent. But the Inquisitor who mistakes his own cruelty and lust of power and fear for the voice of Heaven will torment us infinitely more because he torments us with the approval of his own conscience and his better impulses appear to him as temptations.

Dukat's inner struggle is fueled by the need to be a revered benefactor while also having served at the head of the bastard offspring of the Iraq War and Holocaust. His solution at the time was to make it more like the Second Boer War, the conflict that originally popularized the term "concentration camp" despite the fact that those concentration camps weren't even meant to eliminate the thousands that were killed in them.

DUKAT: So in my first official act as Prefect, I ordered all labour camp commanders to reduce their output quotas by fifty percent. Then I reorganized the camps themselves. Child labour was abolished. Medical care was improved. Food rations were increased. At the end of one month of my administration, the death rate had dropped by twenty percent. Now how did the Bajorans react to all this? On my one month anniversary they blew up an orbital dry-dock, killing over two hundred Cardassian soldiers and workers. "KIRA": We didn't want a reconciliation. We wanted to destroy you. DUKAT: So I had to order a response. But even then it was a carefully tempered one. I ordered two hundred suspected members of the Resistance rounded up and executed. Two hundred lives for two hundred lives. That's justice, not malevolence. Justice.

Throughout the episode the Kira hallucination embodies the disrespected and ingratitude he feels he gets for being "nice". Cardassian values, attitudes, and objectives came first. Dukat, however, was smart enough to understand some of what was being done to Bajor was wrong, but not quite able to tear himself away from his own identity as a Cardassian and the protagonist of the universe. That was just too much to totally upend, as would be required to fully comprehend the reality of the situation.

So he tries, in his own way. Because he wants to be a good guy, the hero, the main character, and he truly believes that he is. Unfortunately, it remains pointed solidly in the direction of his own ego. He's unable to recognize that to err is Cardassian, but repentance divine, because he's already invested in so much. His identity as a Cardassian, his own past actions, his impulsive grabs for power, and being convinced he's such a good man shields him from thinking critically because it would necessarily mean criticizing himself. Dukat can only truly appreciate that he's made mistakes when it makes him feel like he's being the bigger man willing to compromise and graciously admit fault, but he was in charge of the Occupation for twenty years. It's hard to walk back from that.

And I should know, because even understanding I'm the one at fault, it's pulling teeth to force myself through accepting I did wrong, much less admitting it to someone else. I don't want to be someone who fucked up, no matter how minor. Pulling teeth. Quite a lot of NPD can be described that way, in fact. While half-brained wannabee psychologists present narcissists as being sociopathic manipulators who skillfully terrorize those around them, most of NPD is horrible, chest-thumping anxiety. It's not fun at all to want to break my controller in half every single time I get got in a game of Splatoon, even when the round is far from over.

Most Cardassians involved with the Occupation seemed to be either outright monsters or falling under the "banality of evil", like Damar. They considered the Bajorans as, at best, a bunch of backwards hicks who needed to shut up and listen to their betters. Dukat, though, fetishized Bajor and the Bajorans themselves, as quite creepily seen in his string of Bajoran lovers and his dogged pursuit of Kira throughout the show (which horrifically took Nana Visitor putting her foot down to keep from being canon!). He pursed his tenure as head of the Occupation with the zeal of someone who truly wanted his subjects to see he was doing all this for their own good.

The Dominion and most other Cardassians don't give a fuck if your subjects like you except insofar as it's convenient and makes them less likely to rebel. That's the Dominion's whole thing, they just want control, and if the carrot doesn't work they'll shrug and without a hint of emotion give you the stick. It doesn't matter to them how they're in charge as long as they are. When Dukat makes his point about having only executed two-hundred (suspected!) members of the Resistance, the Weyoun hallucination comments:

"WEYOUN": The Dominion would never have been so generous.

It's telling that Dukat is fixated on the contrast between him and the people he allied with enough for it to show up in his breakdown. Just a little before that, Dukat says:

DUKAT: Major Kira knows full well I made every effort to heal the wounds between Cardassia and Bajor. Since the very beginning it was my intention to rectify the mistakes of the past and begin a new chapter in our relations.

Dukat is capable of saying, vaguely, abstractly, "mistakes were made", but it infuriates and honestly baffles him that it's not enough for him to be recognized as the most brilliant and loving extraterrestrial patriarch the Bajorans could ever wish for. In an earlier episode, he has this conversation with (the real) Weyoun:

WEYOUN: If you ask me, the key to holding the Federation is Earth. If there's going to be an organized resistance against us, its birthplace will be there. DUKAT: You could be right. WEYOUN: Then our first step is be to eradicate its population. It's the only way. DUKAT: You can't do that. WEYOUN: Why not? DUKAT: Because! A true victory is to make your enemy see they were wrong to oppose you in the first place. To force them to acknowledge your greatness. WEYOUN: Then you kill them? DUKAT: Only if it's necessary. WEYOUN: I had no idea. DUKAT: Perhaps the biggest disappointment in my life is that the Bajoran people still refuse to appreciate how lucky they were to have me as their liberator. I protected them in so many ways, cared for them as if they were my own children. But to this day, is there a single statue of me on Bajor? WEYOUN: I would guess not. DUKAT: And you'd be right. Take Captain Sisko, an otherwise intelligent, perceptive man. Even he refuses to grant me the respect I deserve.

Weyoun ends the scene laughing at Dukat. Because he was just advocating they exterminate all life on Earth, and yet he's amazed, truly stunned by how crackers Dukat is. The sheer depths of Dukat's psychological need for validation is as clinically fascinating to Weyoun as it is to the audience.

As it is to me, anyway. Like Narcissus and his pool, I peer into Dukat and see myself. Unsurprisingly, he's one of my favorite characters.

#star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #deep space nine #gul dukat #actually npd

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