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infernalodie · 1 year

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𝐖𝐨𝐨 || 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚

“𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 '𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘈𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘉𝘰𝘺, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯' 𝘥𝘰“

Inspo: Rihanna - Woo Lauv - Paranoid

Pairing: Meguru Bachira x Black!Male!reader

Summary: He’s been on your mind since you met him...

Warnings: Switch!Bachira, switch!reader, semi public smut, handjob, and breath play.

Words: 1131

DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

“Motherfucker…” You groaned, head pressed against the tiled wall of the showers. No one else was awake at this time within your dorm. All passed out from soccer practice and a dozen drills that all of you had been put through. In other words, no one else was dealing with the same distraction as you. Because the practice or working out didn’t bother you. It was Bachira.

This asshole may have intentionally done so, but he was infecting your mind. A parasite that you couldn’t get rid of. You couldn’t sleep because the grinning fool lay across from you and didn’t know the entire idea of “personal space”. Seemingly making your mind hot and fuzzy as he snored softly; his back pressed softly to your chest.

So, it has resulted in you having a hard-on and trying to relieve yourself in the showers. Hot water rushed down your back as your hand stroked your cock rapidly. Biting your bottom lip with a whimper, feeling the gentle euphoria settle in your pelvis. Your lips parted with another moan. Eyes beginning to roll back-

“That’s my job, Y/n-Kun.” The sudden voice made you yelp, both your hands shooting to your crotch to cover yourself. But you stopped when you saw Bachira, naked, and smiling at you with a hooded gaze. You were trying to keep your eyes up, but his hardened cock was making that very difficult.

But your lustful gaze had quickly washed away when you realized what you were doing. Exclaiming and averting your eyes to the ceiling. “Bachira! What the fuck are you doing?” You yelled, eyes clamping shut in an extra effort to not seem like a pervert. But you very may well have that twisted because Bachira had been watching this entire time.

He sighed, walking over and pushing open the little door that divided him from you. You gasped, backing away until your back pressed firmly against the tiled walls. Unable to move around as Bachira’s face was hit with water as he closed the space till he was face to face with you. His surprisingly soft hands cupped your face and brought you down into a soft kiss.

You felt him groan into the kiss, melting further into your chest as his cock twitched underneath yours. It created a muffled grunt from your chest as you pressed against him, pouring every amount of lust you could into the kiss. Only feeling that desire grow when one of his hands grasped your cock, slowly stroking you.

Bachira only parted a centimetre where he inhaled your panted breaths. Enjoying the way you shivered underneath his touch. He’d had this effect since the two of you ran into one another in the auditorium when the two of you joined Blue Lock. It was a coincidence at most, but he remembers vividly his front bumping your back because of some kids rushing past you. It had resulted in his arms curling around your waist where he had felt your body tense. Since then, he’s been enjoying the way your darkened cheeks flared red by his actions.

“So sensitive, Y/n,” he whispered, lips pressing to the angle of your jaw. Tongue peeking out to swipe the droplets accumulating on your flesh. Your eyes rolled back, trying to keep your body focused on both feelings at once. It was addicting how easy and good Bachira made you feel. His touch was like a shot of adrenaline to your system. Making it hard for you to think thoroughly before acting. You just wanted to stay in the moment and understand more of what he was willing to give you.

Except, when you felt him stop stroking your cock, you growled in annoyance. Looking down to see the boy smiling teasingly. It was enough for you to switch positions and press his front against the tiled wall. Pulling his waist back where your cock rested between his cheeks. Bachira let out a laugh, pushing his ass further back, hoping it would incentive you to follow through on what you wanted. He wore a shit-eating grin that already knew what he was going to get and finally see what you’ve been holding back.

Lining your cock up with his entrance, you steadily pushed the tip inside. Lips twitched into a grin when feeling Bachira’s walls quiver around you. Yet, his grin never wavered as he soaked in the feeling of your cock finally being inside him. He’s been waiting far too long to experience this.

Pushing in further, you groaned in bliss, head rolling back. Ignoring Bachira’s whines as you slid down till your hips were pressed to his ass. Biting your bottom lip as you held his hips harshly and began to thrust. Moaning when his walls began to grip and pulsate around your twitching cock.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes,” Bachira chanted, face pressed to the wall with drool beginning to slide from between his lips and down his chin. Your large cock hit every right spot inside him, making his mind turn to mush with each pound of your hips. As much as you were addicted to his touch, he was slowly craving more and more of your cock.

At the bottom of your belly, a growing of euphoria was starting to build and it was building rapidly. All the days of seeing him bend over in front of you. His perfect round ass pressing to your crotch or the nights you had seen him stroking his cock, every thought and image was bringing you closer to the edge that was mirrored in Bachira’s body. His back arching even further to feel your cock prod and attack a new spot inside him.

“Y-Y/n, I- I’m gonna-” Bachira’s panted words were halted when your hand reached around and gripped his throat tight with the other reaching around and beginning to stroke his cock rapidly. And before he knew it, he was cumming. His mind began to go numb from the orgasm and lack of air as long and thick strings of cum shot from his slit and hit the tiled wall. The feeling of his quivering walls clamping around your cock was enough for you to shoot your load inside of him.

The two of you stood there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. You leaned down, arm hooking around Bachira’s waist and stuffing your face in the crook of his neck. Kissing the flesh delicately, smiling faintly when he hummed in agreement to the affection. The water was still running down your body as Bachira’s head looked over at you, smiling tiredly. “Good thing we’re in the shower, huh?”

You couldn’t help the grin that appeared, wide and bright. Kissing his cheek as you muttered, “Shut up, idiot.”

#blue lock #blue lock anime #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock imagine #blue lock meguru bachira #meguru bachira fanfiction #meguru bachira imagine #meguru bachira smut #bachira meguru #meguru bachira x reader #meguru bachira x black!male!reader #meguru bachira x black!reader #meguru bachira x male!reader #x black!reader #x poc reader #poc reader #x black!male!reader

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 1 year

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MASTERLIST HUB!

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Series Non-Franchise Specials Post+

Aa.

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A3! Act! Addict! Actors!

AFTER L!FE

Attack On Titan

Bb.

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Baki the Grappler

Black Butler

Black Clover

Blackstar Theater Starless

Bleach (+ Thousand Year Blood War)

Blue Exorcist (+ Kyoto Saga)

Blue Lock

Buddy Daddies

Bungou Stray Dogs

Cc.

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Castlevania

Chainsaw Man

Dd.

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Danganronpa - D:THH, SD2:GD & DV3:KH

Death Note

Demon Slayer

Diabolik Lovers

Disney Twisted Wonderland

Dramatical Murder

Durarara! (1 & 2)

Ee.

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Ensemble Stars

Ff.

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Fairytail

Fate Series - FZ, FSN, FGO & FA

Fire Force

Free!

Fullmetal Alchemist (+ Brotherhood)

Gg.

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Genshin Impact

Gintama

Granblue Fantasy

Hh.

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Haikyuu!!!

Honkai Star Rail

Hunter × Hunter

Hypnosis Mic

Ii.

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Inuyasha (+ Yashahime)

Jj.

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Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (Parts 1-7)

Jujutsu Kaisen

Kk.

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K Project

Kuroku's Basketball

Ll.

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Lookism

Mm.

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MAGI (Ft. LoM, KoM & AoS)

Mashle: Magic and Muscles

My Hero Academia

Mystic Messenger

Nn.

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Nanbaka: The Numbers

Naruto (+ Shippuden)

Nuu Carnival

Oo.

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Obey Me! : One Master to Rule Them All! (+ Night Bringer)

One Piece (+ Films Red & Gold)

One Punch Man

Ouran Highschool Host Club

Overlord

Pp.

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Qq.

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Rr.

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Record of Ragnarok

Remarried Empress

Ss.

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Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

Seraph of the End

Seven Deadly Sins

Spy × Family

Tt.

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That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime

The Disastrous Life of Saiki Kusuo

The Legend of Zelda (Ft. BotW, TP & ToK)

The Rising of the Shield Hero

Tokyo Ghoul

Tokyo Revengers

Uu.

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Vv.

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Vampire Knight

Ww.

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Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun!

What in "Hell" is Bad?

Who Made Me a Princess

Xx.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Yy.

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Yuri on Ice

Zz.

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🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

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urlocalfaggot · 1 year

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Hello! My names Finn and i like writing. (requests are open! )

~FANDOMS I WRITE FOR~

• MHA (BNHA)

• OHSHC

• Black Butler

• Sk8 the infinity

• Stars Align

• Haikyuu

• HxH

• The Disastrous Life of Saiki K

• Seven Deadly Sins

• Assassination Classroom

• Blue Lock (ive only watchd the anime not read the books) • Shameless (ik its not an anime but i love it)

~WHAT I WRITE~

• fluff

• angst

• angst to fluf

• fluff to angst

~INFO~

• make requests specific

• i only do male readers. it can be anything from cis male, trans male, and even (if requested) general natural.

• no nsfw. i will do "heated" scenes but nothing full on.

• i do do polys, just make sure you tell me all the characters you want.

• i will do sensitive topics such as suicide, sh, eating disorders, and others.

• i sometimes base the reader on things i have experienced. so sorry in advance if you don't like that

#male reader #assassination classroom x male reader #my hero academia x male reader #saiki k x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #angst #fluff #black butler x male reader #stars align x male reader #hxh x male reader #ohshc x male reader #seven deadly sins x male reader #trans male reader #gender neutral reader #sk8 the infinity x male reader #blue lock x male reader #shameless x male reader

38 notes · View notes

you-can-call-me-fangs · 1 year

Note

I don’t know if your still taking requests or not but if you are, who would you write for?

🧀anon

I honestly never thoguht too deeply about that yet just because I wasn't expecting to get requests so soon (not that I don't enjoy it) but here's some manga nad anime that came to mind off the top of my head so there could be more that I don't remember right now. This is also supposed to be more of a 18+ smutty account (even though I'm down to write fluff as well) so I made this little list with that in mind too.

Hunter x Hunter

Jujutsu Kaisen

Chainsaw Man

Naruto/ Boruto

Tokyo Revengers

Blue Lock

Demon Slayer

Digimon (hey, I know some people think there are a few digimon out there that are kinda hot, me included, so yeah)

And some other anime/manga that I'm open to writing for but I'm not caught up with the series yet

One Piece

Black Clover

Fire Force

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (I've read everything except part 8)

! I won't say I'm open or closed for requests for now, I'll maybe just casually do them if I get them !

56 notes · View notes

moonheecore · 5 months

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Lover Boy — lhs (m)

Pairing: Boyfriend! Heeseung X Afab! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), college AU, established relationship.

Warnings: Soft Dom! Heeseung, protected sex, consumption of alcohol lots of praising (fem receiving), multiple orgasm, oral (male & female receiving), love making because Heeseung is whipped for you, teasing, cowgirl, dirty talking, Heeseung is both a frat boy and a basketball player which is lethal to the heart, overuse of the word pretty and baby, feat other 01 boy group members, hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: Lee Heeseung, your sweet boyfriend that you have wrapped around your finger. His favoritism towards you didn't escape the notice of his close friends, leading to a well-known moniker they often used when the girlfriend privilege was evident— Lover boy.

Main masterlist

Word count: 5.1k

The atmosphere, combined with the chilly night air, provided a comforting feel. Amid the ongoing frat party, you and a bunch of your circle of friends sought solace on the mansion's back patio, where a warm bonfire painted the scene orange.

You registered the soft sound of your boyfriend’s laughter in the air, watching him and Jeongin joked around with a very drunken Beomgyu across from you. The said male was playing the acoustic guitar carelessly until a visibly annoyed Jaehyuk took the instrument away from the semi-conscious guy.

Lee Heeseung.

The fraternity president, the star and ace player of the school's basketball team, the heartthrob of every girl on campus— and your incredibly attractive boyfriend.

When you said he was effortlessly hot, you meant every word.

He sat there, clad in his usual outfit of a simple black t-shirt and a pair of ripped dark blue jeans, his soft faded purple hair tucked under one of his many collection of beanies. You observed how his dangling earring swayed with each flash of his pearly white teeth, a response to the antics his friends were pulling.

Your eyes trailed to the item hung around his neck, a delicate necklace that he never forgot to pull out of his shirt—your initials carved in silver, proudly displayed for everyone to see.

You felt a bit embarrassed when you gifted him the accessory at first, but you had never seen Heeseung’s doe eyes filled with mellow tenderness as he kept fidgeting the letter with a small smile.

Since then, you’ve never seen him take it off.

A sense of endearment bloomed every time you saw it around his neck. He wore it to his basketball practice, in the shower, to bed— everywhere.

Even in those intimate moments, it dangled above you, the delicate chain brushing against your lips as he thrust into your sopping wet core, fucking you wholeheartedly against the bed sheets; or when you would entangle your fingers between the cold chains, the grip providing the perfect leverage as you ride his cock, the symphony of his encouraging moans blending with the creaking of the bed frame.

You felt almost comical at how shaken you were by a piece of jewelry.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Yunjin's voice cut through your distracted thoughts.

You turned your head to face her, obviously startled. "What?"

Yunjin scoffed, taking a sip from her red cup. "If you don't stop eye-fucking your boyfriend, I might puke on you."

“I was not!”

Yunjin raised an eyebrow at your answer, clearly unimpressed. You closed your mouth in silent embarrassment, hugging Heeseung's jacket around your body tighter. The waft of his cologne gave you a piece of mind.

You sighed in defeat, "—okay, fine, maybe I was, alright. Is that a crime now?” Yunjin's expression softened, and she nudged you playfully, finding your annoyed yet adorable expression to be one that lit amusement.

“Well, I guess you're in some kind of luck, girl. He is looking right back at you."

You blinked, surprised, and turned to see Heeseung gazing back at you with a fond smile across the bonfire. The orange hue from the flame seemed to accentuate the way his eyes lowered down before locking onto yours again, as if he was drinking in the sight of you. He raised his eyebrows enticingly, patting his lap like a signal for you to join him.

A blush crept onto your cheeks.

"You're having too much fun with this," you remarked, getting up from your seat as Yunjin's playful laughter filled the air as you left.

God, you hate it when she has then upper hand. But you hate it even more when you feel like a giddy middle schooler while heading towards your boyfriend.

His gaze stayed fixed on you throughout, leaning back on his seat to create a comfortable space for you to settle on his lap, both legs elegantly positioned on one side. You feel his hands immediately on your body— one securing your back, while the other gently on your bare knee.

Heeseung was so warm that you instantly melt in his embrace, resting the side of your head against his shoulder. You fought against every instinct, refraining from burying your face in his neck. It was as if the lingering scent of his sweet cologne on the jacket he gave you at the party's start wasn't sufficient to satisfy the yearning within you.

"Are you cold?" He asked, already taking a blanket to drape over your exposed legs. You stared at his side profile, letting out a soft hum at his attentiveness. He glanced down at you, only to find you already staring back.

Gosh, you could drown yourself in his eyes.

"Hi," He whispered, as if having you in his arms was the most casual thing.

"Hi," You breathed out shyly, wrapping your arms around his neck to shorten the distance between your faces.

The both of you struggled to contain your laughter at the exchange. The noise of your friends and the crackling bonfire seemed to fade away as you locked eyes with each other.

“You look really cute tonight.” You blurt out, feeling his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your knee under the covers.

He raised his eyebrow in feigned offence. “Cute?”

There was a mischievous glint in his expression, and it was impossible to ignore as he leaned down to boldly fix his gaze on your lips.

"Not hot?" he questioned, your breath hitching as his fingers traced up your legs, ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It made your heart race, especially considering he was doing it discreetly with people still around.

"Or sexy?”

You bit down on your lower lip, trying to contain the small moan coming out when he cups your clothed cunt. Heeseung observed every scrunch of your face, feeling your fingers tugging at the hairs on his nape and the way you pressed your thighs together, curling inwards towards his body.

Heeseung wished he could tease you even more, relishing in your adorable reactions. However, he could feel himself getting worked up too, forcing him to whisper against your ear.

“Let’s go to my room, yeah?”

You nodded quietly against his shoulder. He shifted to grab the blanket and laid it on the empty chair, prompting you to stand up and fix your skirt, which had ridden up during his little ministration.

"Hey," Heeseung called out to Jeongin, intertwining his big hands with yours. "We're heading inside."

"What! Already?" Beomgyu's slurred words cut through the conversation, loud enough for others to hear. "Come on! The party's just about to get started!"

Heeseung looked visibly annoyed as his friend draped an arm around his shoulder. Clearly under the influence of alcohol, he glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder, catching sight of your connected hands and the noticeable flush on your cheeks.

"Ohhh, I see why you're leaving early," Beomgyu said with a massive grin on his face and wiggling his eyebrows.

"Heeseung, you fucking dog! Lover boy getting his dick nice and wet tonight—“

Before Beomgyu could continue, Jeongin smacked his palm over his mouth from behind to stifle the rest of his sentence, holding him in a headlock. He signaled to Heeseung to go and shot you an apologetic look as well.

But the damage was done, and you shyly lowered your head as Heeseung pulled you away where people were whistling and howling in your direction as you past by.

"God, I was about to sacrifice him in the fire if he didn't stop yapping."

You giggled as he grumbled under his breath, reaching the steps of the patio. He opened the back door, ushering you inside the house where the party showed no signs of slowing down even in the wee hours of the night.

The thumping bass of the music reached your ears as you walked down the hallway, navigating through drunken students flowing between the dancefloor in the living room and the kitchen stocked with an abundance of alcohol.

The tight space between the sweaty figures made you feel claustrophobic, but the reassuring touch of Heeseung's fingers laced with yours and your other hand holding onto the belt loops of his pants kept you from getting lost in the sea of crowds.

Heeseung has always made his strong presence felt by you.

He always ensured you walked on the side away from the road, poured and guarded your red cup when you were away, stayed sober to drive you home, rested his hands at the back pocket of your pants when you walk together or when he would wait for you patiently outside of the restroom when you felt unwell.

His favoritism towards you didn't escape the notice of his close friends, leading to a well-known moniker they often used when the girlfriend privilege was evident—

Lover boy.

Your lover boy, the man who was pinning you against the door of his bedroom, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your jawline, kissing your lips deeply the moment he locked the doors.

You opened your mouth slightly, allowing his hot tongue to explore the cavern of your mouth. The intensity made you tangle your fingers in his soft hair, eliciting light moans and groans from both of you that he gladly swallowed down.

You weren't sure if you were tipsy from the alcohol or his taste because you started to feel fuzzy in the head.

“Is my hair in the way?” He questioned, sounding a little out of breath once he broke the kiss.

He rest his forehead against yours, the bridge of your noses grazing each other at the proximity. You chuckled softly, pushing back the lone strands of his hair that escaped when you pulled his beanie off.

“Yeah, a little bit.”

You licked his bottom lip sensually, mesmerized by the way it glistened with saliva. Heeseung bent down to capture your lips again swiftly, his heart going wild with what you did, circling your waist to pull you flush against his body.

You weren't going to lie; you felt out of breath, getting lost in the rhythm of his mouth moving hungrily. But you didn't want to stop, going insane with the way his hands were slowly smoothing down your body.

"You look beautiful in this skirt," he murmured, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips before switching to your jawline and down your neck.

“I wore it just for you…” You admitted, sighing softly when he nib and suck at the sensitive spot of your neck, holding his hair tighter when he moved to knead the back of your thighs.

"Is that why it's so short?"

You felt him smirk against your neck, letting out a sudden gasp when his hands moved under your skirt to grope an ample amount of your bare ass.

"Hmm? Planning to seduce me with your slutty ass out for everyone to see.”

Now your cheeks were on fire.

It was rendering you speechless, with only the ability to weakly shake your head. You couldn't bring yourself to make eye contact with Heeseung as he looked back to gauge your reaction. Doing so would likely leave you feeling weak in the knees.

Heeseung could only smile at your cute reaction, especially when you tried your best to hold back your moans but failed.

“Naughty girl, but I guess it work, right?" Heeseung drove his point home when he took one of your hands, gently guiding you to palm his semi-hard cock through his pants.

He let out a shaky sigh when you knead firmly along his thick length. "Feel how hard I am for you, baby. Only you can make me feel like this."

Heeseung let out small whiny moans as his head fell to rest on your shoulder, bucking his hips shamelessly in your hand as his cock grew heavy, a tight dent forming at the front of his pants.

You felt the familiar pooling of wetness gathering, both at the base of your tongue and between your thighs.

“Seungie,” You call out, pulling on the bands of his pants shyly with half lidded eyes and swollen lips courtesy of him. “Can I suck you off, please?”

Holy shit, he could get a cardiac arrest with the way you said it with so much lust.

"I’d love that," he grinned, leading you to his bed as he sat at the edge, pulling his shirt off to exposed his ripped body.

You promptly went on your knees between his legs, causing him to caress his thumb over your cheek as you fiddled with his buttons and zipper before pulling his pants and boxers down, swiftly releasing him from the tight confinement.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his beautiful cock lying hard against his abs, the head already aching and red with pre-cum leaking at the tip. The sight of his tight balls entice you even more, leading you to kiss them first before sucking gently on the flesh.

"So eager, baby." He cooed, using one hand to lean back on the mattress while the other rest on the crown of your head. "Just like that pretty girl, fuck—"

He rasped out a loud moan when you licked a long stripe up along his length before swiftly engulfing his head in your mouth. Heeseung felt absolutely winded at the sight of you stuffing your cheeks full of his cock, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn't get in the way of the sight.

You started to bob your head, smoothly pumping his length in and out past your lips. You jerk his remaining length expertly while your other hand fondle with his balls.

"So pretty like this, taking me so well. Bet you've been thinking about fucking your mouth in my big cock the whole night, right, baby?" He smiled down at you.

You were so drunk with his taste that you could only hum in response, swirling your tongue around his tip before dipping it into his slit. Heeseung instinctively tug your hair, pulling your face closer until your nose was touching his pelvis as you tried to accommodate him beyond your usual capacity.

You knew his most sensitive spot— slurping on his bulbous head while you slid your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock as much as possible.

"Ah god, fuck, baby, that's it." He whines, thrusting into your mouth, pushing his cock until it hits the back of your throat repeatedly. Your jaws were aching, but you fight the urge to gag by hollowing your cheeks, letting him use your mouth free to his will.

You didn't care that drool was spilling at the corner of your mouth or that the corners of your eyes were starting to sting with tears. Heeseung was at the mere edge of his release and your clit was throbbing to even think about him spilling his seed into your mouth.

"Y/N, fuck—“ You could hear the rawness of desperation in his voice, chest heaving. The hand gripping on the back of your head turned rough as he sloppily pistons his hips forward that almost make you choke.

"Gonna cum in your mouth, baby girl. Gonna fill you up nice and good down your throat until all you taste is me."

And you’ll gladly let him, feeling his head twitch a few times against the roof of your mouth before he release the tension in his shoulder, lurching forward and swearing loudly as ropes of his white cum coat your entire oral region.

Despite feeling light-headed, you continue riding him of his orgasm as you swallow down his hot load and lick him clean. In fact, it made Heeseung shudder in pure pleasure, wiping down your smudge eye linear with a gleeful expression.

"Sorry, are you okay? I seriously couldn’t hold back…”

He sheepishly apologized, smoothing down your tousled hair as you rested your head against his thigh.

"...and I came a lot." He mumbled, and you giggled at the way he turned bashful when just a second ago, he was rolling his eyes while shoving his shaft down your throat.

“It’s fine.” You reassured him. Heeseung wanted to plunge himself into your mouth again when your wipe the excess cum at the corner of your lips, licking it without a second thought.

"You taste absolutely delicious."

You began to kiss the dips of his v-line, holding onto his thighs as you move to tongue at his navel. You could feel his stomach tense up as you lick the valley of his abs, trailing up and standing on your feet to reach his neck and jaw before settling on kissing his lips.

You circled your hands around his neck firmly, thumb pressing on the prominent swell of his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t you think a good girl like me deserves to be rewarded?” You look at him with those dreamy eyes he can’t refuse, or maybe that was just the afterglow of sucking his cock that makes you look irresistible under the bedroom lights.

Heeseung's hands slipped under your shirt, gently tracing your waist, sending shivers down your spine.

“Maybe if she strips down for me I’ll consider.” He purred, doe eyes darken with lust. "Get naked for me, baby, and I promise to make you feel incredible."

If the arousal trickling down your thighs wasn't a clear sign of your longing, the fact that you promptly followed his command under his hungry gaze certainly speaks volumes.

"Fucking beautiful," he whispered as you peeled off your bra, licking his bottom lip as he watched your breasts bounce free. Now, you were left in only your skimpy panties.

"The most prettiest girl in the world." He lament, pulling you closer and situating you between his legs, your exposed breasts now right in front of his face. Your tits were hardening as he firmly grasped one of them.

"—and I get to have you all to myself."

You instantly crumbled when he captures a nipple between his pouty lips, suckling on the hard nub until you feel the pressure on your skin. His other hand toyed with the other perky breast, kneading it and ensuring it received the same attention as he pinched it between his fingers.

"Feels so good, seungie..." You moaned out, your fingers found purchase in his hair again as you arch your back when he switch to engulf the other nipple with moist kisses.

"Fuck...love it when you use your tongue on me." You were shaking your head, body trembling when he kept nibbling and lapping at your sensitive nipples, coating them with his thick saliva.

"I know, baby." He gazes up at you with a knowing expression, leaving bite marks on the swell of your breast. "Think you can handle it if I eat your pretty little pussy?"

Fuck, no, you don’t think so.

To many people on the outside, he has the sweetest pair of lips, always complementing and giving you lovey-dovey kisses in public. But behind the scenes, his dirty mouth never stops moving on your body, and you know for a fact that his tongue is the spawn of the devil. It won't end until every drop of your arousal coated his taste buds, and you crying for him to stop.

But you fear you might go insane if the ache between your legs isn't relieved soon, succumbing everything you have to him.

"Yes, please, I need you now." You urged.

Heeseung laugh softly, a big smile plastered on his face.

"C'mere, baby. Get on the bed and lay down for me."

He instructs, standing up and turning you both around so that you're pressed against the bed.

He took a pillow to gently tuck it beneath your head, making sure you were laying down in a comfortable position. You were observing every move he made impatiently, and he took obvious notice of that.

“You look like I’ve already made you cum,” He teased.

Blushing at his words, you watched as he settled to spread your legs open. The sight made his cock twitch, the damp patch of fabric clinging to your folds, outlining the curves of your lips. He could already imagining how swollen and soak you were, and he haven't even properly touch you yet.

"You're so wet, baby," He praised, peeling your panties from your pussy. "Are you sure you haven't cum yet?"

You shake your head, spreading your knees wider for him to tug off your panties from your ankle. "No, I wanted to wait for you."

"Such a good girl."

Heeseung seemed satisfied with your response, especially when he could confirm that you weren't lying. Your pussy was slick with arousal, and your clit looked engorged to the touch. He was sure it was courtesy of you humping the carpet floor when you were on your knees for him.

Heeseung laid on his stomach, hooking his arms behind your thighs. It was like a wet dream, having his head between you legs and feeling the heat radiating from his breath as he drew closer to your bare cunt. You fingers entangled itself in his soft locks when he blew on your sensitive clit.

"Heeseung, please don't tease— ngahhh.”

The words died in your mouth the moment he licked a stripe of your core, as if to test the waters before fully lapping on your wet folds. You lifted your hips, hearing the slurping sounds of his lips smacking around your cunt. His button nose pressed on your clit so deliciously that you hoped the loud noise from the party was drowning the even louder cries of pleasure escaping from your throat.

"yes, yes, fuck, faster." There was the familiar knot blooming in your stomach, the one that was growing the more Heeseung prob the tip of his tongue in and out of your lose slit.

A soft groan emits from him, driven by the way you would roughly scrape your nails on his scalp as you start grinding on his face feverishly. His chin is dripping with drool and your arousal, your sweet scent and taste overwhelming his mind, causing him to quicken his pace and latch his lips onto your clit.

He flattened his tongue on the pearl, flicking it back and forth, face pressed deeply between your thighs until you were a convulsing mess on his bed.

Your abdomen was pulsing erratically, your walls clenching over nothing as you released the torment you had kept. An orgasm washed over you like cold icy water, throwing your head back as Heeseung's tongue continued to coax every bit of your climax until he was satisfied. He was going down on you, making sure to clean every crevice that he might have missed, even when you were weakly whining that it was too much.

He was fucking pussy drunk. There was no other explanation for him literally drinking you up right now.

"You're such a cute mess.” He was peppering your inner thighs with kisses, watching you squirm from the sensitivity every touch on your skin brings. "Always so ready for me to taste."

His sun-kissed skin glowed with sweat, his hair attractively disheveled, while his lips were swollen with a sweet pink hue. He gingerly moved and leaned down to kiss you square on the lips. It was light-hearted, simmering down the intensity of everything that happened before.

He was gentle, holding your jaw tenderly as you both basked in the warmth of your proximity.

"You did so well for me, baby." He bumps his nose against yours. "Think you can keep going?"

It was sweet of him to take note on the exhaustion reigning on your features, but you honestly don’t think the night could be completely over until he fucks your pussy with his cock.

"God, yes,” You nodded, gnawing on your lower lip. "Lemme ride you.”

He wasted no time in positioning himself to sit up, leaning his back on the headboard. You took this as an invitation to sit on his lap as he rummage on his side drawer for a condom.

“Wild berry or bubblegum, what do you think?”

“Heeseung, please just hurry up.”

You snapped, snatching one of the wrappers from his hand.

Heeseung's boyish laughter filled the air, his beautiful smile and his eyes turning a beautiful crescent shape. His silly jokes could never be separated, to the point where you swore he was secretly a masochist for finding joy in seeing you suffer in the most unconventional moments.

You rip the package open with your teeth before rolling it onto his already hard cock that twitches with every friction from your contact. Now, you thought you were the one being needy when he was literally manhandling you to hover over him.

You rest your hand on his broad shoulders. With one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around the base of his cock, he guides the tip to your entrance as you slowly sink down simultaneously.

He rasped out words to encourage you to lower your hips, the loud sounds of both of you moaning in rapture together when he fully bottoms out filled the room.

"Holy shit." Heeseung's head fell to knock on the headboard, his chest going up and down erratically. "You're so fucking tight."

Heeseung's large cock was throbbing inside of you, filling you completely as if he was made for you. The initial discomfort of the stretch slowly fizzled out, and pleasure took over as you craved more of him. You guide his hand to wrap around your waist, moving your hips up and down on his length.

You were absolutely enamored, lifting yourself before sinking back down with a heavy weight, feeling his mushroom tip pressing on the deepest part of your cervix. Your inside were spasming insanely at the hot contact, leaving you to spill a mantras of moans.

You lean back to rest your palms on his thighs, grinding and rolling your hips, hearing the soft creak of the bed as you begin to bounce on his cock sloppily. Heeseung's moaning and panting under his breath, pulling your waist impossibly close when he feels you clench around his girth deliciously.

"You look so hot. What the fuck." Heeseung gasped out, watching your through half lidded eyes.

His view of you was just amazing— your perfect tits bouncing when you slam your hips down at an angle, your wet pussy squeezing him tightly that he could see a white ring of precum collecting at the base of his shaft. Pieces of your hair were stuck to your forehead, your face so fucked out that he could easily cum from this image of you.

"Fuck, Heeseung, touch me."

You alluring voice was like a spell, coaxing him to fondle your breast while his thumb played with your puffy nipples. You continue to overwhelmed him as you move faster, both of his hands slowly glide down to grab your ass cheeks, aiding you to move back and forth on his cock sensually when he notice you slowing down.

"Keep going baby, I love it when you spread your pussy and ride my cock."

You shake your head in desperation, your thighs trembling in exhaustion. "Can't— I can't go on anymore."

You didn't need to say twice, and he was already pulling you to rest on his chest.

"It's okay, baby, I got you." Heeseung holds you by your love handles before he started thrusting up roughly.

It became apparent that both of you were on edge, becoming overly sensitive to each other. Every drag of his cock against your walls throwing both of you into overdrive. While you were holding onto your dear life to stay afloat, Heeseung was becoming addicted to the pleasure, pounding into you until the loud sound of clapping filled the room.

You're not sure anymore whether it was the sound of his thighs or his balls slapping against your ass.

You couldn't focus anymore, not when you were struggling to stay upright as he was balls deep into you. He was so big, so hard that he was practically throbbing against your walls. Not even a second did he slip out, despite the brute speed and strength he was using to rail you repeatedly at your sweet spot.

The burning knot in your stomach was coming back, getting tighter and tighter as he makes a mess in your insides.

"Heeseung." You're voice crack at the end, nails digging at his back. "I— I'm about to fucking cum."

Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you hide your face in his neck, the feeling of his fingers rubbing and pinching on your clit made you clamp harder around him. You chanting his name over and over again only deepen his desire to absolutely ruined you in the best way possible.

"That's it, baby, cum for me." Heeseung nibbled the lobe of your ear, the movement of his hips faltering gradually as he was near his high as well. "I want to see you cum all over my cock like a good girl."

There was a second of pin-drop silence before you slump on his chest, crying and moaning as you feel your second orgasm shaking your body and soul. Heeseung was not far behind you, stuffing your sore slit with one last crash before you could feel his chest vibrate with loud groans, releasing strings of hot semen into the rubber.

The knot in your stomach was untied, losing its overwhelming pressure, and it mixed wonderfully when Heeseung's face morphed into a satisfying glint, his head falling to rest on the headboard.

It feels like a symphony of wonders, the heat of everything blending in from the heavy breathing and the slick dripping down your thighs as Heeseung pull out of you to tie the soiled condom. You close your eyes, ears pressed against his chest as you follow the lullaby of his heartbeat to calm your mind down.

Your hands mindlessly twirl the chains of his necklace, and Heeseung embraces you tighter in his arms. He leans down to place a sweet kiss on your cheeks, pushing back some stray hairs behind your ears. He let out a tender sigh when you snuggle closer, prompting him to trace your back gently with his fingers.

Your legs was sore but you regained your bearings to kiss him, gently humming when you feel him smiling against your lips.

"I love you, Heeseung." You said softly.

He peered down at you, his eyes saying everything without a word as he gave that lovesick expression, admitting that he will forever be—

"I love you too. Always."

—Your lover boy.

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denim-devil · 6 months

Text

Bad To The Bone - Week 1 | Mirror Fucking/Hair pulling

Summary - When hearts collide, Billy chooses to chase after the longing thoughts that have only you in the midsts of them all, the biggest halloween party ever hosted in the small town of Hawkins was his best bet to finally entice those very thoughts…

Pairings - Bully!Billy Hargrove x M!Reader

The cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he stalked the crowded room, his eyes lingering on the current sight before him. Steve’s hands were far to close for his liking, lightly grabbing at your swaying hips.

What had felt like an eternity, Billy slowly crept toward the two of you, anger and malice ran through his veins like the blood circulating his body had done, bubbling up, growing closer to a boiling point.

Steve’s lips felt warm against the crook of your neck, his teeth nibbling gently against the dampness. Although under the influence, you had no desire to stop him, not after the end of your mid-night rendezvous with the current king and bully of Hawkins High.

A slight shove had forced the ridiculed Steve into the wall beside the two of you, a harsh bang sounding out into the room, even with the noisy crowd of teenage students and the humming beats of madonna…it was loud.

“Watch it asshole-“

Steve ushered out with a hiss. As if time itself was a concept, you stood, frozen. Billy stood with a proud smirk, his black, slightly damp leather jacket was hung open, showcasing the toned physique you were once frequented with.

“Watch what? I didn’t do anything”

Billy tuts, his eyes flicking over to you, looking you up and down like he would his next meal, like a dangerous predator to it’s prey. A certain ache began to pool between your legs, what were once pale, your cheeks were now a deep shade of crimson, taking note of Billy’s looming figure.

“Oh yeah? You wanna bet?”

Taking a puff of his cigarette, it goes back to laying loose between a shit-eaten grin, his tongue flicking over the orange tip. Billy had no time for games, nor Steve’s bullshit, instead he opted for the obvious choice, charging toward you with his fingerless leather gloves which eagerly wrapped around your bicep, yanking you toward the stairs.

“Oh your in so much shit sweetheart”

He half growled, half whispered, even with the music blaring and the crowd going back to dancing and chatting, Billy took himself seriously, only wanting you to know what was to follow as you stumbled up behind him, leaving a confused Steve, stammering around in the very same corner.

He hadn’t bothered to look back, feeling how limp your wrist was within his grip had told him everything he needed to know, you had no fight to win, Billy had already won, more so with the dingy bathroom door flying open with a tug and a kick.

Thump, thump, thump. It rang through your ears like an alarm, heartbeat pacing like a jockey and it’s horse during a race, running quicker once the door slammed shut and the click of the lock latching away both your confidence and the thoughts of an impending escape.

He stood, flicking the cigarette bud onto the floor before raising one of his heavy boots, stomping the crisp leftovers into dust.

You watched the older male proceed to shake of his jacket, leaving him in just the denim jeans he was naturally acquainted with.

“You better think twice before ever letting Harrington touch you like that again-“

Nodding was the only beneficial answer, earning a daring smirk from the manic jock before you. His golden locks were matted yet matched the darkness now claiming the once ocean blue eyes he usually sported, his hair resting against the sweaty tan skin that covered his innards.

His steps grew closer with each thump correlating with your heartbeat, black boots treading against the tiled floor toward you until his warm breath fanned lightly across your pink-dusted cheeks.

“Billy- please, it was nothing, j-just needed something”

He tutted before pressing his body against you, pushing you further into the floral wallpapered brick behind, instantly making you feel small and defenceless.

“Save it- you need to learn a thing or two…”

Billy doesn’t think twice, he normally doesn’t before acting on said thoughts, twisting your body, roughly laying you stomach first against the counter top that faced the elongated mirror before you.

His body, warm and delectable now rolled into your arched form from behind, pushing most of his growing erection against you, forcing you to feel your own impending doom.

“You should be thanking me sweetheart, you got this cock all to yourself and you were ready to throw it away like dog shit- fuck”

You incoherently mumble a short “no” before pushing back momentarily, testing the waters. Luck had happened to be in your favour, a starving Billy, craving nothing but to ravish you groaned before pulling back.

It was easier to see this way, watching eager finger tips make quick work of his leather belt and crotch zipper, both thumbs hooking into the burgundy band of his boxers, wiggling them down slowly, past the light trimming of blonde pubes surrounding his veiny, thick base.

“Can’t stop thinking about how easily you take this dick”

Your tongue trails over your dry lips, watching as the band smoothly runs further down, catching on the moist tip before being completely removed, his cock bounces, loudly slapping into his toned abdomen, the head angry with urgency, a deep crimson in colour, he was thick from base to tip, a singular girthy vein running on the underside, splitting off just underneath the curve of his tip.

He chuckled at the reaction, watching as the same lips he used to get himself once in the janitor closet after gym class hung agape, eyes wide with earnest and adoration.

“Don’cha think Harrington would give it in so easy? Look at you, all dolled up for the wrong guy-“

You groan into the warm air of the now secluded space, the bathroom, although big felt small with the presence of Billy watching over you, his shadow looming in every corner from the dim strip light placed just above the mirror, forwarding his domineering ways.

“Billy- I got dolled up for you…”

As if words were a dagger, sharp and pointy, cutting into his skin, seeping deeper and changing his whole point of view. It was clear now, from the tight, revealing light wash jeans that hugged every spot he had both discovered and devoured more then once to the dainty leather jacket that had you looking smaller then usual, swallowing you up.

“Oh really? Fuck princess, you really know how to rile up a guy”

His fingers tips scrambled from your inner thighs upward, towards the belt loops and eventually to the knot holding you together.

Billy had made quick work with your belt and jeans, unclasping the metal before roughly pulling down the tight denim that hugged you perfectly, followed by the white briefs unveiling the very source of his affliction and desire.

His cock, thick and heavy, laid perfectly between your crack, pulsing at the very thought of being inside once again, after weeks of having blue balls, it was his forbidden truth to feel you all over again, like the first.

“Harrington could never- you really think he could fuck you the way I do? Make you feel things…”

Reaching down, a warm hand cups the base of your dick before slightly tugging, the leather cold against the warmth he was supplying. The moans that had forced themselves from deep within bubbled up into a whimper once surpassing your open lips.

His free hand managed to sneakily wrap itself within your hair, tugging harshly, you were not getting out of this, even if you had the choice.

“I won’t ask you again doll-“

You mumble a sharp, squeaky “no” once the angry tip rests softly against the puckered skin surrounding your entrance and Billy’s gateway into bliss. A few more tugs was all he offered up before removing his hand from your dribbling member, slightly patting at the pert globes you arched into him.

He chuckled cockily, his beer-soaked chest resting against your clothed back before looking up into the glass mirror. It was almost invigorating to see himself like this, to watch you wriggle with anticipation, giving in so easily, allowing Billy himself to guide you through his ecstasy, it was even better, a strangers bathroom had never brought him so much glory.

“Atta boy, come on, won’t you relax for me, let me in sweetheart…”

He slips in with ease, creating a stretch that burned like the sun, growing with each passing inch, watching as his tongue danced against your neck, how your features twisted with pain…then pleasure.

“Look at yourself-“

He settles against you before pressing his hips flush against your own, filling you up, warm and thick in your gut. Tear-stained eyes flick up to settle on his baby blues that twitched with lust, his smirk big and proud, almost intimidating.

“That’s it- that’s my pretty boy, such a sweet thing for me, all for me”

He panted before pulling completely back with an audible pop, watching his cock bob, he ushered himself back in to the hilt with a loud slap, this was something Billy would never forget, clearly.

“Keep your eyes on me princess-“

You did, watching him roll his hips, feeling each inch slip and slide against your velvet walls, his tip edging it’s way back and forth, watching your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Bill- Billy, please-“

You gasp before he presses fully forward, pushing against your pleasure spot and watching you gasp, tongue licking at dry lips. Once again you find his eyes, blushing at the wet laps he gives your neck.

“You’ll think twice next time hmm?”…

#male reader #x male reader #stranger things #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove #smut #possessive!billy #this woulf of been longer- but i’ve lost interest #hope yall enjoy it for what it is 🫶

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tojjist · 4 months

Text

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination.

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant.

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly.

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual, that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words.

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought.

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17.

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact.

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances.

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store.

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,” he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late.

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath.

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response.

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

544 notes · View notes

angelshadowsinger · 10 months

Text

Prized Possession

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: fluff!! littlest hint of spice. like a little angst too bc they have a brief fight??? idk

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

You lose something and Azriel gets it back for you.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

im too soft for this pls its too much. i almost made this a smut but i am wholesome and refuse to listen to the little devil on my shoulder. also this is unedited

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

The ground shook as the air cleaved and two bodies fell to the floor from the mass of shadow above. A wave of cold river water surged out, slickening the marble tile with a slight greenish tinge.

You were retching up water on your hands and knees, drenched hair plastered to your face and your neck. A large slice of skin was exposed diagonally across your collar from where the siren had scratched you, a red ring around your wrist quickly turning purple from where it had grabbed you and dragged you under. That was all before Azriel had dove in from the sky, as graceful and lethal as a bullet with his wings tucked tight and limbs flush to his sides. In but a flash of blinding, brilliant blue did he slay the faerie, the life just starting to leave its gaze before firm hands had snatched you and you’d slipped away into the shadows.

Now the shadowsinger was coughing violently, all the while glaring at you as he braced his scarred hands on his knees, heaved over. His large, dark wings were dripping, a mist showering over you as he shook them free of moisture. You could feel his stony stare fixed on you as the puddle on the floor gradually grew, both your bodies dripping.

The moment you regained some semblance of control you were up on your feet and jabbing a finger into the male’s broad chest, a vicious growl emitting from your mouth and your eyes ablaze.

“What the hell is your problem?!”

He had the audacity to look shocked by your outrage, a dark brow scrunching and lips pulling back to snarl something back at you but you were quicker than him.

“I had it, Azriel, what the fuck?”

“The only thing you had was a watery grave,” he instantly barked back, now standing upright so he loomed over you as usual.

Somehow he looked even more devastating fully drenched, his clothes sticking to his lean frame, revealing his rippling muscles to you with every movement. His dark locks were pitch black and curling at the tips, heavy, shiny droplets collecting at the very ends. Hazel was lit aglow beneath that darkness, his gaze lit with some unknown wrath that you didn’t quite know how to place.

It was just plain unfair how good he looked after nearly drowning.

“Fuck you,” you scoffed, even if he was right. The ache in your lungs remained from your lack of breath, the creature having dragged you underwater so deep that your ears nearly popped with the pressure.

You turned away from him as your fingers ran over your chest, toward the spot that your necklace usually laid upon. But now there was only a shallow slice where the siren had swiped it from you, and the tattered edges of your top. Tears welled in your eyes at the barren expanse of skin you felt, but you refused to let them fall in front of the shadowsinger, refused to let your anger turn to sorrow before you were in the privacy of your own room.

“I think gratitude would be more appropriate,” Azriel spoke harshly, still glowering from his position behind you. “You know, for saving your life?”

You whirled around, fists clenched at your hips. “Would you just shut up!” your hiss morphed into a gasp as you trembled with the effort of curbing the sob that tried to escape.

The haughty look instantly dropped from Azriel’s face, his eyes flicking over every inch of you to assess you for any sign of physical damage. When all he came up with was the cut on your collar and the bruise around your wrist, his brow furrowed.

You were shaking, frustration peaking as you ran your fingers through your sopping hair, starting to pace before the male. “I had it, it was right there…” you muttered to yourself, quickly swiping away a rogue tear, praying he hadn’t seen it.

The shadowsinger remained rooted where he stood, watching your display of upset with quiet intensity. After you had paced for a minute, he finally asked, “You had… what?”

His voice was deep as it sliced the silence in the room. The chill of his chambers was now starting to leech into your bones, your arms crossing over your soaked midsection.

You pinched the spot between your brow and nose bridge, willing any nearly-boiling emotions to relax to a simmer, at least while you were still in front of your long-time crush. “Just forget about it…”

You weren’t looking at him so you didn’t see the way his plush lips pursed.

“Forget about what?” he pressed. His persistence forced an annoyed sigh from you, and you shot him a quick glare before continuing your pacing.

“It’s nothing,” you said, trying to shut him down again. You didn’t know why enlightening him of the true reason you were so upset seemed somehow embarrassing. Maybe it was because the male had never shown profound emotion to you and therefore cueing him in on your own felt… too intimate.

But Azriel wasn’t having it.

“If it’s really nothing—”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

You turned again, facing the male before you and gauging his stance. With one look you knew he was not dropping it. Any excuses you would attempt would be futile.

“It took… my necklace.”

You held your breath, waiting for him to explode, for him to belittle you and call you stupid and materialistic and any other insult he could produce. But all he did was stand there, and look at you.

Eventually, he said, “So you’re telling me that you nearly drowned… for some jewelry?”

Your eyes fell from his to the floor. You knew he wouldn’t understand.

“Risking your life for such a thing is extremely reckless and I don’t care to entertain it,” he stated, callous.

“It’s not just some jewelry!” you quipped, standing your ground. You didn’t care if it made you look weak, stupid. Yes, you thought he was cute and funny and usually kind, but this meant a lot to you and you were going to hold your own.

Azriel sighed, stepping closer to you. “I don’t think you understand the value of your life, or the importance of your existence in others’.”

You brushed off whatever that meant.

“It’s the only thing I have left from my mother,” you finally revealed, the words fading softer toward the end. You regretted it immediately, but you knew from the emotion that flashed in his eyes that he had heard it, and there was no taking it back now.

You had never mentioned her to him before, only the fact that she was dead and had been for a long time. And Azriel hadn’t pushed, so you hadn’t felt the desire to give any further detail.

But now he was looking at you with some sentiment you couldn’t quite place. It seemed like… maybe it was… empathy.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

You were surprised by his immediate apology, hadn’t expected it. A somber smile graced your lips and you nodded, gaze drifting down to your feet again, turning to head back to your room to wallow in self-pity. “It’s okay, it’s just a necklace.”

Three steps into your retreat Azriel cleared his throat.

When you turned to look at him he was still standing there, but he now had a little smirk on his lips as he held out a clenched fist. He released his grip and out dropped a small, silver-laced heart pendant, the chain bouncing from its coil around his fingers.

“You mean this necklace?”

Your breath was genuinely sucked out from your lungs, your eyes tearing up as you blinked furiously, unsure if he was really holding your most prized possession.

“Az,” you blubbered, choked up and your lip quivering. “That’s…” Two slow steps and then you were flying into his arms, your limbs wrapping around his torso as you clung to him and laughed.

Azriel stumbled back just slightly, unprepared for your abrupt launch into his embrace. But he quickly recovered, his free arm wrapping around you so your bottom was secured by his elbow, his hand at your waist. He chuckled as you squeezed him, fingers reaching out to stroke the pendant that now lay in his open palm, to make sure it was really here and you hadn’t lost it. Your longtime crush had saved you and somehow managed to sneakily grab your necklace at the same time.

“Thank you,” you sniffed, tears welling up with relief, “thank you, thank you so much, thank you Az.” You whispered it over and over, tucking your face in against his neck, breathing in that soothing cool cedar scent you loved so much.

The shadowsinger was blushing with your proximity and your praise, near giddy from your outright gratefulness. He allowed himself to nuzzle your ear just once, not wanting to toe the line. “Of course, sweetheart… anything for you.”

You sat back so you could look at him, your beaming smile reaching your eyes. Azriel couldn’t help but grin back at you.

“I can’t believe you got it! You’re the best, Az!” you cheered, fingers now resting on his palm, pleased to find the necklace was indeed there and not lost at the bottom of the river.

The Illyrian was basically looking at you with heart-eyes now, not used to such overt flattery. You wiggled in his grasp, totally overjoyed. The display of your content was making his heart feel funny, his icy exterior completely melting for you.

“I’m so happy right now, I could just—”

You planted your mouth on his, hands coming to cup his strong jaw and hold his face flush to yours.

Azriel went stiff, his eyes widening as his grip on you became steel. But you were undeterred, pulling back to plant a few more swift, equally-firm kisses on his lips and then across his hot cheeks and nose.

When you pulled back, Azriel was gaping at you, lips now parted and his cheeks and the tips of his ears a soft, warm pink. Your smile faded as you took in his expression, settling into the knowledge that you’d just assaulted him with a barrage of kisses.

“Shit— I— I’m sorry Az,” you laughed, embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck. “I just— got a bit excited, I guess.”

You shifted so he would let you down but he refused to budge, arm taut around you. His wings were held high and tight behind him, still buffering as he tried to process what you had just done.

Your cheeks were becoming the same shade as his now, and you swallowed, uncomfortable under his intense stare. You weren’t accustomed to being able to look him head-on like this; he usually towered over you. He was so handsome up close, it made your heart drop into your stomach at the thought that you had just kissed him. About ten times, give or take.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before the shadowsinger finally blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes falling to linger on your lips. You felt aflame as you watched his tongue dart out, tasting the spot your lips had just claimed. “That’s alright,” he murmured, the hand that was holding the necklace coming to tuck your wet hair behind your ear, fingertips gliding down your jaw, leaving you wanting more. “Seems like a worthy reward for returning your most prized possession to you.”

Then he was setting you down, your ankles suddenly weak as your feet touched the ground.

“Allow me,” he said and gently placed his hand on your hip, turning you away from him.

You held your breath as the rough pads of his fingers coasted up your shoulder, the familiar weight of your mother’s pendant heavy against your rapidly-beating chest while he secured the clasp. You tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t happening, your body leaning back against him on its own.

Azriel hissed lowly, firm hands grasping the back of your forearms and holding you out, far from where your back had grazed him. “Careful— you’re not the only one excited here.”

Your face burned and your core stirred at the same time.

“Sorry…” you whispered meekly.

He sighed a soft laugh, one hand rubbing your arm. “It’s alright. You go and run a hot bath, you’re drenched and I can hear your teeth rattling from here.”

You turned and smiled smally, grateful he was offering you an escape. You took extra care in keeping your eyes locked with his, no matter how bad you wanted to look down and see just how excited he was. “Thank you again, Az. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

And with that, you slipped from his chambers, the sound of your wet feet pattering down the hallway.

Azriel watched the spot where you had disappeared around his door, his shadows now surging out and dancing around him with glee, flickering across his mouth to get a taste of you. He didn’t care that he was still dripping wet as he flopped back onto his bed, his fingers coming to trace his lips. He recalled how your mouth felt on him, closing his eyes as he tried to preserve the feeling as best he could.

“No sweetheart,” he spoke to no one in particular, a confession only the stars in the sky would hear, “you’ve no idea how much you mean to me.”

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･��ﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar fic #azriel fic #angelshadowsinger #my work

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solannn · 24 days

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My request are still open !! ^_^ (male/ftm/nb/gn) of any kind black, white, than, blasian, etc. (Only if you precise) readers.

The fandom i do are ;

MHA

One piece

Soul eater

Viland Saga

Blue lock

Haikyuu

Kuroko’s basket

Bleach

JJK

JJBA (?)

Naruto(shippuden), Boruto.

Seven deadly sins / four nights of the apocalypse

TGCF/ HOB

Tokyo revengers

KNY/ DS

OHSHC (ouran high school host club)

Creepypasta

HTTYD 1,2,3

HUNTER X HUNTER

Black clover

Assassination classrom

MDZS (mo dao zu shi)

BSD (bungou stray dogs)

MHA/BNHA

ONS/SOE (seraph of the end)

Crossovers (ex ; mikey x shinobu!reader)

And many others

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infernalodie · 1 year

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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 || 𝐇𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐢

“𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯' 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯' 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦“

Inspo: Julia Michaels - Heaven

Pairing: Black!Male!reader x Hyoma Chigiri

Summary: You were the heaven that Chigiri couldn’t get enough of.

Warnings: Character’s aged up, soft smut, and blowjob

Words: 1131

DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

When Chigiri entered the apartment, he was surprised when he found the apartment pitch dark. Nearly stumbling over his feet from the little mat that lay in front of the entrance. The only sight of natural lighting came from the street lights outside with their white glow purging the darkness. But in this case, it only created shadows that Hyoma couldn’t differentiate from reality or his imagination.

“Y/n?” He called out, walking towards the kitchen table where he dropped his gym bag. Pulling his arms out the sleeves of his sweater and placing that on the back of a chair. Walking around the table with his eyes focused on the shadows and a rather dark interior ahead of him. “If this is some sort of prank Y/n, it’s not funny. I want cuddles!” He whined.

And almost like a dog, ear perking up at the sound of Chigiri’s whining, you came running out of the darkness. A pair of boxers only worn on your body as you approached your tired and sore boyfriend. “I was originally going to scare you, but I’ll let it slide for cuddles.” Your arms curled around him, encapsulating the red-haired boy, who melted into your chest and sighed. His hands resting against your stomach with his face stuffed in the center of your chest.

Pressing a gentle to your ebony flesh, he craned his head up. Resting his chin and blinking tiredly up at you. Only feeling his exhaustion begin to catch up to him when your hands ran through his locks. Nails gently scratched his scalp just the way he enjoyed it. “Why did you wait up for me?” He inquired softly.

A deep sigh fell from your lips as you looked out the window to see absolutely no one outside. To be fair, it was nearly midnight, but it was quieter than it usually was. You were used to the occasional teenagers ripping up and down the street in their suped-up cars or just being loud in general. But this silence was nice and made an idea appear in your mind.

“To help relax you.” Chigiri didn’t need much of a hint to understand the meaning behind your words. But it also left him breathless as you slowly walked him back until he was pressed firmly against the glass window.

“Y-Y/n…” Chigiri tried to find the right words that got caught up in his throat. Unable to remove his eyes from how your hands ran down his body slowly. Lifting the hem of his shirt and letting your warm hands grace his flesh; goosebumps erupted across his body.

Lowering yourself to your knees and keeping his gaze, you took the hem of his shorts and boxers between your teeth. Grinning like a fool when seeing Chigiri’s chest rise and fall in anticipation. “Just relax, honey. I want you to feel good.”

Chigiri wasn’t ever going to get used to how you treated him. Never did you ask for anything in return except a kiss. One that Chigiri was always itching to gift you. But he was always going to feel a bit selfish whenever you acted like this. It was hard not to be when you looked at him like you were. An animal stalking its prey.

You freed the man from his boxers and grinned feeling his cock hit your cheek. The leaking of his pre-cum smearing against your cheek as you looked up at the soccer player. Finding it absolutely adorable seeing him all embarrassed by such actions. Softly grasping his warm cock, you snickered when hearing him gasp from the contrast of the cold rings around your fingers and the warmth of your palm.

“Look at this needy little thing.” You stroked his cock slowly, hearing the whimpers of your name fall from his lips. “Have you been thinking about me since practice ended? Do you need me, Chigiri?”

Chigiri swallowed the lump in his throat, whimpering with both of his hands covering his face. That was the only response needed for your teasing questions. You liked messing with him before putting him through a worldwind of emotions.

But relenting, you wrapped your lips around the red tip of his cock. Chigiri couldn’t help the sudden jerk of his hips from the warmth of your mouth. Instead of getting mad, you moaned and held his hips firmly against the window. Earning a pout from the man for it to be quickly replaced with a moan.

Your tongue flicked over his slit before taking more of him inside your mouth. One of your hands reached beneath and fondled his balls, creating a loud whine to fall from Chigiri’s lips. He couldn’t help but stare down at the slow and tedious bobs of your head. Taking more of him each time until you were down to his pelvis. Nose pressed to his pubes as your tongue peaked out to just barely lick his balls.

“O-Oh, yes! Y/n!” Chigiri moaned, head slamming back into the glass. The pain was muted by you placing both of your hands behind your back and clasping them. Chigiri didn’t hold back his desires as he held the back of your head and began to fuck your mouth. But you stared up at him with a warm blush on your cheeks, allowing him to use you as he saw fit.

Any previous embarrassment had been washed away from Chigiri’s system. Seeing this side of him, the most lustful part of him only turned you on. Feeling your own cock twitching inside your pants with a wet patch beginning to grow in arousal.

Chigiri’s nails dug into your scalp with his breaths began to stutter. His hips losing their rhythm as he choked on his words as you laughed around his cock. Placing your hands on his hips, you bobbed your head rapidly. Feeling the man’s nails dig deeper as you wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked, hard.

It was enough to propel Chigiri into his orgasm as his head rolled back with a cry. Body trembling as hips jutted in an attempt to prolong the orgasm; you performed that yourself. Taking his load and swallowing before parting from his wet and twitching cock.

A string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock broke, hitting your chin. Causing you to swipe it with your thumb and stand to your feet. Towering over the tired boy as you parted his lips and placed your thumb in his mouth. He complied instantly, sucking the digit.

But Chigiri couldn’t help but smile seeing the desire swimming in your eyes. Although he knew he would have to return the favour, he needed to be selfish. A guy like you changed someone like him into being this way.

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psychedelic-ink · 7 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐢 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: you and joel take your relationship to the next level.

warnings: themes of grief and loneliness, hurt/comfort, fluff, body painting, joel being a very lousy nude model, oral (male receiving), heavy petting, fingering, shower sex, edging, dirty talking

a/n: aaaaand we're BACK-- the hiatus is officially over and I am so ready to focus on this series. I've missed them so much and I hope you guys all did too 💗 also special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on while I was writing this, love you to the moon and back bby xx

Chapter Eleven || Chapter Thirteen

Loneliness had never been a stranger to you. You had your own brand of it, like a homemade fig preserve. Being so close with it, you’ve added something from yourself, and in return, it has branded your personality in such a way that it has become hard to think there was anything but.

For the longest time that special brand of loneliness had been your closest friend. During adulthood, you noticed how tired you were of asking for people to be emotionally aware of your needs, your wants. You were tired of spelling it out for them. Your parents weren’t like you, neither was Auggie. No one around you was emotional like you were, so you learned to keep it locked tight in your heart. You cried at night. You smiled during the day. You felt off and weird when family members hugged you and wept on your shoulder, you dissociated. You’ve noticed this, especially at your grandfather’s funeral. He was gone and you hadn’t shed a tear among the dark black fabrics.

Auggie knew you did this, but alas, it didn’t really matter.

So when you found a family emotionally rich despite not having much, it came as a mild shock to you. Sarah didn’t have these issues. She didn’t care if she was emotional or not, or if what she said came off as needy. The only emotional constipation you noticed was between brothers, but even that didn’t stop them from addressing what they felt during an argument.

You were no stranger to emotional outbursts. Reading a book and eyes welling before you could finish a sentence.

Now, you feel less lonely thanks to Joel, Tommy, and Sarah, each filling a different gap in your withered soul. But even that doesn’t stop the old habit of sewing your mouth shut.

You wake with a heavy weight on your chest. It’s still dark, the sky a dark shade of royal blue. It’s actually a beautiful night. However, your eyes are blind to it. Your skin is damp with sweat. If you saw a nightmare, you don’t remember what it was. You remember going to bed uncomfortable, Tommy’s sad eyes branded into your lids like tattoos you both want to and don’t want to get rid of.

You gradually rise from the bed, the thin summer quilt sliding off your now cold body. You shudder. It had been a long time since you last felt this way. Empty and lonely. It always feels like you have to suffer through these emotions on your own, your need to smile through it more prominent than anything else.

You smack your lips together, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You need water. Ice cold water.

Going down the stairs you don’t think how dark it is, or how some particular shadows remind you of your childhood when you would wake up thanks to the jarring sound of mosquitos, looking for comfort downstairs where your grandparents were usually up. Fuck, your chest is even heavier now. The muscle in your chest more like a cannonball than heart. You’re hyper-aware of the way your chest rises and falls with every breath and quickly, you make your way to the kitchen.

The light of the fridge momentarily blinds you but despite your burning irises you manage to wrap your fingers around the familiar handle of the old jug. You pour yourself a big glass and take small swallows.

A soft wind caresses the outer skeleton of the house. The shadows of leaves dance over the walls, again, a familiar sight that drags you back and makes you sick simultaneously.

“You a’right there, sweetheart?”

You jump at the sound of a voice deepened with sleep. Tommy is staring at you from the entrance, brows furrowed, the crease between them so much like his brother. Taking another small sip of water, you swallow and place the cold glass on the counter.

“I’m fine,” you grit out, your voice leveled. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Before you know it, Tommy’s warm hands are on your face, cradling your cheeks. His thumbs move over your cheekbones, pressing and applying pressure over the bone. Your heart skips a beat. It takes you everything not to lean into his touch, to seek out that comfort only he could give. But you think of Joel, you think of him, and you stop yourself. If Tommy knew about you and Joel, if you were completely honest with him—an open book, you would’ve taken that comfort to yourself, not a worry in your heart but he doesn’t know and that alone makes your stomach clench with guilt.

“You don’t look fine,” his hands slide down to your shoulders. “Was it a nightmare?”

You blink heavily, your eyes locked on one another. Two broken people in a dark kitchen. It pains you that a nightmare is Tommy’s first guess. You wonder how many times he’d woken up to the faux scent of gunpowder and screams only to be comforted by the darkness of the ceiling.

“Something like that. I. . sometimes forget that they’re gone,” your eyes drop to his chest. “And then I remember that no matter what, in the end, I’ll be lonely.”

“Lonely?” he spits out the word, shocked, hurt and baffled. “What are you talkin’ about? You have Joel—You have me.”

You know you do. You really do. But after years of going through it all alone, to see your friends have their own support systems and people to protect them, care for them, it’s hard to believe you’ve found your people. It’s hard to believe that years of solitude where you had to take care of yourself was over. Old habits die hard. Your heart shatters piece by piece. Your heart nothing but a heavy weight in your chest. You want to collapse, to scream, shout and cry. Salty tears sting the corner of your eyes. Suddenly you’re drowning in your past like it’s still your present, the thickness of it goes all the way up to your neck and you can’t breathe—

“Hey—hey,” Tommy cups your cheeks, thumbs running down where tears would be but your skin is dry. “Come back to me, it’s a’right. I’ll always be with you, you know? Even if you move far away, I’ll always be a thorn in your ass.”

You crack a smile and manage to nod, placing a hand over his own. You think a tear finally falls, maybe even two. You hate feeling like this. Hate it. Tommy doesn’t look convinced by your expression.

“Do. . .do you want me to call Joel?”

His words freeze you to the bone. Of course, he would ask that—Tommy Miller, always thoughtful, always putting others first. They both do. You even think to some extent Sarah does the same thing. All of them throwing themselves in front of a moving train in different ways.

You don’t know if he’s noticed something. Or if he just thinks that Joel’s presence would be more soothing, since he’s used to relying on his older brother.

Either way, you want him to know that he’s enough.

And he’ll always be enough.

You shake your head, “No,” he furrows his brows when you part your arms. “But I wouldn’t say no to a hug.”

Strong arms sneak under your armpits and broad palms press against your back. Tommy pulls you incredibly close. Holds you indescribably tight. His scent fills your lungs. A bit of sweat mixed with a day-old deodorant. He smells nice. He always had. His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile widely this time but he doesn’t see.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you whisper into the darkness. “I would be lost without you.”

“Are you sure you’re a’right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“Hundred percent sure?”

“Yes, sir,” you declare, your gaze fixed on Joel as you peer from the side of the canvas for a better look. “Now stand still.”

Joel grumbles something inaudible and straightens his neck, attempting to keep his limbs as still as possible. Your eyes rove across his broad shoulders, the expanse of his chest, you take in the shadows that appear between every sinewy muscle and think about how to convey it into your painting. You still haven’t dared to look further down. Looking down means that you’ll definitely be distracted.

You sketch a couple of lines that vaguely resemble his shape. You’ve missed painting nudes and when you mentioned it to Joel, he was eager to accept without actually realizing he had to stay still for a generous amount of time.

“You should’ve called,” he grumbles. “I would’ve come straight over.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it was late, and Tommy was there.”

He doesn’t say anything but you can sense his displease.

“He’s my friend, Joel,” you answer, observing the thick contour of his neck. “And your brother.”

“I know that. I just don’t like the idea of not being there for you.”

“Tell him then,” you say a bit harshly. He doesn’t seem affected by your shift in tone. Another line joins the others. “If it was anything serious I would’ve called, hell, I would’ve come to you but it wasn’t that serious. I was just in a. . . mood.”

“Tommy sure don’t think so.”

You don’t say anything and focus on drawing the rest of his torso, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I hate when you do this, you know.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Do what?”

“Downgrade your problems. It’s okay if you’re still grievin’. It’s okay if there are some things you’re still workin’ out. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone, I can be your rock, sweetheart. I’d be happy to.”

“You are my rock, Joel—and keep still.” He huffs and straightens again, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’ll try to open up more. Promise. I do feel really lucky I have you. And Sarah—and Tommy. Some nights I just wake up feeling bad. Yesterday was just a bit more intense.” Joel grunts in approval and you add. “Also hasn’t Tommy heard of the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?”

“He wasn’t snitchin’,” he pouts, you want to take his bottom lip between your fingers and kiss him. “I actually asked how he was doin’ but he quickly brushed it off and told me about you instead.”

“Of course, he did.”

He nods but still seems wound up like a toy. His head drops a bit, the click of your tongue reminding him to keep still.

Your eyes trace the contours of Joel’s body. He’s an excellent specimen, everything about him so human, so raw. Every freckle, every crinkle you want to eternalize onto your canvas. He’s not looking at you anymore. Eyes glued to the legs of the easel. You still haven’t fully taken in the sight of him. Sometimes you’re truly afraid of how strongly you feel for him, how much you’d be willing to lay down just to be with him.

Honestly, a pocket of time would be ideal. That way you could spend eternity in this peaceful moment, living in bliss.

You place the pencil down and walk up to him. His gaze is drawn to your once more, “Sorry, sweet tea, did I move again?”

“Maybe a bit,” you lie, standing an inch away from his naked body. You press your thumbs against his cheekbones then slide them down, feeling the roughness of hair tickling your skin. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, before opening again.

You don’t say a word. Time is still around you and you believe if you try hard enough this can be your forever. You trace the outer lines of his lips, then trace the seam. His lips part, a bit of tongue showing in between—you touch that too, shallowly dipping one finger before moving on to his neck, “To draw is to feel,” you muster, the ball of your thumb grazing firmly over his Adam’s apple. “Will you let me feel you?”

“‘Course,” he chokes out. “Whatever you need.”

His words make your chest swell with affection. Joel’s words make you feel brave enough to allow your gaze to venture down. You press the flat of your palms over the swell of his stomach, something trembles within—life, you think, he’s so full of it. Your one hand dares to go lower, playing with the dark curls that lead to his soft cock.

However, he doesn’t remain soft for long, it twitches and grows, the head gaining a reddish hue.

Joel tilts his head, gradually leaning in to claim your lips with his own. He stops when your fingers bite into his bare hips, lodging into that delicate spot between bone and muscle, he swallows thickly, cock raising with attention.

“Stay still,” you whisper. “And maybe I’ll reward you.”

“Oh, we’re playing that game now?” he says with a crooked smile that makes your stomach twist delightfully. You only smile as your hand slides lower and lower, until you cup his semi-hard cock. His breath hitches.

I love you like this, you want to say but remain silent. You stroke him slowly until he’s fully hard, the warm muscle throbbing in your palm, you press your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin until his hips jerk.

“I’m not playing any games,” you mouth into his skin. “If you let me paint you, I’ll let you fuck my mouth. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

Joel thrusts into your hand once more, groaning as you lick the vein that throbs under his skin, “I won’t lie, sweetheart, that might be hard if you keep your hand where it is.” He exhales a shaky breath, the warmth of it fanning your skin. “But sounds fair enough, I’ll try.”

You press a quick kiss to the small patch within his beard and pull away before he can follow the heat of your lips. He’s as still as a statue when you get behind the canvas, but instead of resuming sketching the rough outline of his body, you grab two tubes of paint and a brush; though you have your doubts you’ll be using the tool, you’d much prefer to feel the heat of his skin softening the paint between your fingers.

When you come back to him, confusion crosses his face.

“I thought you were gonna be paintin’?”

Your lips twitch into a sinister smile, “I am.”

As cliche as it might sound, Joel has always reminded you of a deep, rich shade of red—the color of blood—but he also reminds you of an earthy purple, the type of shade that makes you want to bury your fingers in it as if you might actually feel the earth itself.

You shake two tubes of paint in front of his eyes. He’s still confused, yet remains still. You pop the red paint open first, squeezing a generous amount over his shoulder. You watch it trickle down, drops of crimson staining his torso, the color so deep that it looks too real. Your heart jumping, you quickly smear it down his chest and all the way to his stomach. Just like you predicted, the brush is forgotten, slipping from your fingers and onto the carpeted floor. Joel shudders, his breath caught in his throat, you see him clench his jaw.

“Darlin’. . .” he rasps, voice full of gravel, and your hand stops where it follows the V of his lower abdomen.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he answers quickly, breathily. “Don’t ever stop touching me. Don’t ever stop looking at me like that—like I’m the most valuable thing you have. Like I’m worth a damn.”

“You are.”

Slowly, your fingertip traces an invisible path upward, leaving a trail of red paint in its wake. Joel shudders and gulps loudly. You draw meaningless shapes, circle where his tattoo is, and draw shapes of ancient alphabets you vaguely remember from when you read a book about the Late Bronze Age. Joel shudders, twitches, and tenses under your touch but never actually moves, keeping his stance.

After the red pigment is nothing more but a fading shade of pink, you pour some purple paint into your palm and apply it directly. You press your hand directly above his heart, leaving your handprint over it before moving to his back, “Fuck,” he groans.

Looking down, you notice him clenching his buttocks and slightly swaying forward, you smile, his cock must be dripping. You can’t wait to take him in your mouth, for him to use you however he pleases. You need him to be desperate when he takes you, sliding his length down your throat as he berates you for taunting him with sinful touches in the guise of making art.

You press your hands together and smear the remnants of red with the purple, the fresh paint overwhelming the other. When both hands are fully coated, your cup both his ass cheeks, sliding your hands up, you kiss the taut skin between his shoulder blades. You leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to his neck and lick the sensitive spot behind his earlobe.

“I’d wrap my hand around your cock but I’m afraid the paint isn’t edible so you wouldn’t be able to fuck my mouth,” you tease. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Joel?”

He groans, “Keep this up and you’ll find out, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man, you should know.”

“But isn’t the wait fun?” you challenge, your hands sliding up to his front, right above his pelvis. “The taste of sex on your tongue, the way your cock throbs with the thought of my warm cunt tight around it? Don’t you feel that tingle. . .” you gradually lower yourself, dragging your tongue down his spine, a choked out sound rips from his throat, “going down your spine, reminding you of how good it’s finally going to feel when you push down my throat, cutting my airflow and taking me however you want?”

Joel breathes heavily, his stomach clenching with every whispered word, “Darlin’, please.”

“Turn around.”

You look up as he does, you gently take his hand and place it on your cheek, your heart dissolving into something thick and sweet like honey when his thumb strokes your skin. His gaze grows soft, the arousal in them dimming, splitting away like waves to show the emotion.

“Your knees are gonna hurt,” he says, voice dropping.

He’s right, they are going to hurt. “I don’t care.”

You lower both hands to your lap, obediently parting your lips, sticking your tongue out. Joel wraps a hand around his cock and jerks himself until he’s fully hard, he holds you by the hair and drags you closer.

“You want me to fuck that pretty mouth?”

“Please,” you repeat his own plea from earlier.

The heft of his cock on your tongue almost feels like a blessing from above. Your eyes flutter shut. Joel slides himself torturously slow, inch by inch, as he fills your mouth, your lips stretching wide to accommodate his width. He moves down your throat, awakening your gag reflex, you hold it down, choking around his cock.

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good,” he groans, throwing his head back. With shallow thrusts, he works your throat open. Your one hand slides between your thighs as the other braces against Joel’s thick thigh. Right now, you’re relieved you’re wearing your favorite flannel pajama shorts instead of something uncomfortable like jeans. “That’s it, touch yourself, sweetheart. I want you to come while I’m fuckin’ your throat.” You whine filthily at his words, pressing your fingers between your clothed folds, you stroke your aching clit. Joel doesn’t stop running his mouth. “You must be soaked down there, poor thing.”

Tears sting the corner of your eyes and you manage to slip your fingers down your shorts. His thrusts become rougher, sliding all the way out before fucking himself even deeper into your mouth, down your throat. You swallow helplessly around him and the groan that slips from between his lips forces the clench of your cunt, you breathe heavily through your nose and draw vicious circles around your clit.

“Look at you—you like me fuckin’ your mouth, honey?” You nod, his lips curling in the most devastating way. “You gonna come while rubbing that pretty pussy of yours?”

You nod again, this time accompanied by a moan. The reverberations of the sound trembles against his sensitive cock and he rocks into your mouth harder—this time tears do slip past your fluttering lashes. You can’t breathe, your vision is blurry, yet this is everything you’ve ever wanted. Your heart feels so full, so content. He fucks every thought out of your head, overwhelming your senses.

“Shit, shit, shit—Don’t look like that, sweetheart, don’t cry, if you do I—I’ll—” Spit trickles down the corner of your lips, everything a wet, sopping mess. With every thrust, he manages to go down your throat, his mouth constantly muttering words you can barely hear. More tears flow freely down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva and precome going down your neck. His hips move in a constant stammering motion, balls heavy on your chin as he snaps shallowly into your throat without pulling back.

You look up to him. Your eyes shining and glimmering, Joel meets your gaze, his eyes going wide, hips stilling—

He spills down your throat, hard.

You swallow, swallow, and swallow, gulping everything that he gives. But it’s still not enough, there’s too much, some of it spilling from the sides from where his cock stretches your lips. Your body jerks, your fingers move slowly around your clit and you press harder, your feel the warm slick dripping down your fingers, making a mess of the rug underneath.

“Sorry, sorry—” Joel mutters over and over again almost like a chant. His voice hoarse as his chest raises with quick shallow breaths. He then lets out a deep exhale, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he pulls out. “I wanted to last longer.”

You kiss the tip of his spent cock, “Come here,” you mumble and he quickly drops down, you take his hand, pulling it between your legs. His eyes snap to yours, pupils eating away the color as he presses two fingers into your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll and your hips immediately grind down. “I came too. I came from you fucking my mouth, Joel. That’s how good it felt. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Fuck, you’re really makin’ it hard to stay soft darlin’.” You smile as you cup his flaccid cock, feeling the weight of it in your palm, he hisses. “You’re gonna pay for teasin’ me, neighbor. ‘Should take you on my fuckin’ knee as punishment.”

A fresh gush of wetness spreads around his fingers, “I think I would like that,” you say, kissing his neck. “But now I think I should actually finish sketching you for my painting.”

“I don’t think I have much strength left in my legs,” he says with a chuckle.

“Who said anything about standing?” you stand up, taking him with you. “I’m going to paint something else and for that, I want you on the bed.”

You hadn't realized how much paint you managed to cover yourself in when you were pouring purple and red down Joel's shoulders.

He actually managed quite well when you asked him to lay on the bed instead of standing, and you’re fairly certain he dozed off for a moment or two. You didn’t mind. You loved how the painting had ended up, a sensual silhouette of a working man sleeping with sun cascading down his skin.

“Surprise surprise, pourin’ paint on me got you dirty too,” Joel coos playfully, following you into the dimly lit bathroom. He stuffs your bedsheets into the washing machine, your eyes catch the smear of red and purple paint. “Want us to take a shower beautiful? We still have time until Sarah comes back from school.”

“Someone’s cheerful now that they’ve taken their nap.” Joel holds you by the waist and pulls you close, unlike him, you’re still fully clothed—dirty, but clothed. His cock presses against the swell of your stomach.

“I’m mighty tired of bein’ the only one bearin’ my naked ass,” he tugs off your shirt, the motion so quick that your protest dissolves on your tongue before it can materialize. “Also you owe me a nice back scrub with all those fancy soaps you have.”

“I thought I paid my depth when you came down my throat.”

“I don’t recall sayin’ exactly how much you owed me for this.”

Your lips split into a grin. Without moving away, you bend over and slip out of your shorts, throwing them towards the washing machine. The flickering lustful specks in his eyes make your heart jump, they look like gold. Despite coming down your throat about forty minutes ago, he still wants you. He’s not tired of spending time with you, talking to you, humoring you in your endeavors— he’s not even mildly annoyed, which is something you thought everyone would feel eventually if they spent enough time with you. It was only a matter of when.

You suddenly slap your palms softly against his cheeks, cradling his scruffy cheeks. His eyes rip away from your naked body to meet your gaze. You take in a slow breath. And out. Your heart rams painfully within your chest. Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in your expression, observing you slowly as if he’s tasting what you’re feeling like aged wine. His fingers slither around your wrist and sliver down your forearms.

“Darlin’?”

“I love you, Joel.”

His lips part, not with surprise, but with relief. You’re smiling giddily now, not a feeling of worry in your bones, just happiness, eagerness. You don’t care if it’s too early. Too late. It’s what you feel. And all you feel is love love love.

“I love you too, Tea.”

Joel brings your palm to his lips and kisses the curve of it slowly, he moves up to the middle, his mustache tickling you when he lays another kiss, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

You close the distance, slanting your lips together, you drink him. His lips move to the beat of the moment, tickling down tenderly and smoothly like molasses. Joel’s tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open up for him. He tastes you quickly before pulling back. He exhales deeply, his breath fanning your swollen lips.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

You grin, raising an eyebrow, “So you can get me dirty again?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he huffs.

Joel leads you to the tub, acting as if you’re his guest and not the other way around. He turns on the shower, allows the water to run down his fingers until the temperature is just right, and then carefully helps you step in. You moan happily at the way warm water moves down your skin, softening your body and chipping away at the paint. Joel stands right behind you. You want to turn around, clean him of the colorful mess, but he doesn’t budge. His hands touch your shoulders, then skims down.

“You first,” he murmurs, fingers washing away the paint. You lean back. His hands follow a trail to your front, kneading your breasts.

“I don’t have any paint there,” you hum.

“My bad, these eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

He gives them another squeeze before going lower and lower. . . until he’s pushing his hand between your pressed tighs. You laugh, “I definitely don’t have any paint there.”

His teeth suddenly sink into your shoulder. The blossoming pain makes you gasp and your body reacts by bending over, rolling your hips towards him. With a soft growl, Joel grips your hips and pushes you up against the glass panel. You moan with your breasts pressing firmly against the glass, the constant shower of water making you slip.

Joel’s lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck you with my fingers,” he rasps. “Want you to come all around them, sweetheart.”

Your body flushes from the inside out, “What if I can’t?”

“You don’t have a choice,” he pushes forward, notching his cock between your folds, you whimper. “If you want me to fuck you with this cock, you better show me how desperate you are for it by makin’ a mess, honey.”

When you don’t answer he grips your neck and forces your head back, he kisses your forehead, “Are you gonna be good for me?”

Your stomach bottoms out, “Y—Yes, I’ll be good.”

He kisses your forehead once more before releasing you. You fall forward with a whimper, bracing your hands against the slippery panels. Joel slides two fingers inside of you with embarrassing ease, “You like it when I’m rough,” he states, thrusting the digits in and out. You nod. “I love you,” he then says, catching you but surprise. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles darkly. “God, you’re gonna make me go insane—I love you—”

You clench again, a loud moan dropping from your lips. The sounds you make are drowned by the water, yet he can hear you crystal clear. Your body reacts viscerally to his words, a flame that won’t ever go out burning wild in your gut—between your legs. He whispered the words into your skin, into your mouth, against your tongue. You push against his fingers, urging him to go deeper. He does. He holds you by the neck while fucking you with thick fingers, you cry out his name, whimpering those three little words that make him go inside just as much as it does to you.

“Come for me,” he grunts. “Come for me so I can fuck you for real.”

“J–Joel, fuck—”

Your back arches, your orgasm rips from you, he takes it. It’s violent, earth shattering.

Your jaw drops as he squeezes your throat lightly, the pressure adding to the intensity. You can vaguely hear him muttering ‘That’s it’ over and over, but you can barely hear the rasp of his voice.

Joel kisses your cheek, drags his lips down your neck, “How’re you feelin’?”

“Good. . . great actually.”

Pulling out his fingers, he pushes them between your lips, you lap at them hungrily. While you’re busy devouring your own taste, Joel buries himself deep in your cunt. You whimper around his fingers, brows furrowing with pleasure. He pulls the digits out and grips your chin. His chest heaves as he pulls almost all the way out before snapping forward again, burying himself into the tight warmth of your pussy.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth. With every thrust, your lungs convulse. You desperately grip his forearm, but your fingers slip thanks to the water droplets that surround his skin, him letting out a sudden chuckle before pulling you towards his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think I’m gonna last long now either. You make me feel like a teenager again.”

Throwing your arm back, you tug the damp locks and force your lips together. You lick hungrily into his mouth. Joel moans loudly and you swallow every little sound he makes, your cunt fluttering and clamping around his length. He pounds into you sloppily, no coordination, no calculation—just need.

To be wanted. To be devoured. What a wonderful feeling it was.

Joel pulls out with a grunt, you hear the slick sounds of his fist as he jerks himself over the curve of your spine. You shudder when you feel it. Warm spend trickling down your skin, mixing with the water. He spreads your ass cheeks and pushes them together with his cock between them, he grinds once—twice, before heaving and dropping his head between your shoulder blades.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you hear no regret behind the apology. It makes you glad.

“Don’t be,” you turn and pick up the shower head, holding it right over his shoulders, you wipe the remaining paint away. Your stomach growls in protest, your lips twitch into a crooked smile. “God, all that worked an appetite. I’m starving.”

“Want me to cook you somethin’?”

Spraying the water over his other shoulder, you meet his gaze. He’s so sweet like this. His hair wet, curling at the ends. His body finally relaxed. You can’t help yourself and quickly press your lips into the corner of his jaw.

“I have a watermelon in the fridge, you can cut that up for me.”

“‘Course, darlin’. Anythin’ for you.”

Crickets chirp loudly. The wind pleasant, yet a bit too warm for your liking. You fan yourself with a hand as you lean back into the chair. Despite just taking a shower, you’re nearly dry. Summer is definitely not a good season for you.

“Should I be offended you look so miserable right now?” Joel asks, sitting next to you. He bites into one of the watermelon slices and when a drop of sweet nectar escapes, he makes quick work of licking himself clean. You swallow, your insides pulsing.

“No,” you sigh. “I just don’t like the heat very much.”

“Well. . that might be a problem considering summer is basically here.”

You groan and throw your head back, “Don’t remind me.”

“Here,” he says, extending you a slice. “Eat.”

You take the slice without objection, biting into the fleshy fruit. The cold juice of the watermelon feels good as it goes down your throat. You look over to the lawn, thanks to the heat most things have dried out.

“I helped him a lot you know,” Joel says, his voice soft, as if afraid to spook you. “With the garden that is. He talked a lot about you.”

“Did he now?” you muse, you chew the watermelon thoughtfully. Your eyes are glued to one of the butterflies in search of a flower. “I miss him.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I know. I wish I could ease your paint, but truthfully I have no idea how to do that.”

“You do enough,” smiling, you turn to him and find that he’s already looking at you. “The silver lining is that I met you.”

He parts his lips, eyes glossed over with emotion but before he can, both of you hear small steps approaching at the same time.

“Oh, watermelon,” Sarah chirps, throwing her backpack to the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She takes a slice and sits down, eyes flitting between you and Joel. You try not to look at Joel then, your heart beating a bit too loudly for your liking. Sarah raises an eyebrow and locks her eyes with Joel, their expressions are similar when they’re about to wreak havoc.

“What?” Joel snaps, angrily sinking his teeth into his watermelon, finishing it off. Both you and Sarah laugh, your heart feeling a bit lighter now.

“Oh, nothin’,” Sarah rolls her tongue, mimicking her dad. “What have you two been up to?”

“Your dad was helping me with the kitchen sink,” you answer quickly. “It’s been leaking all morning.”

“If my dad is good at anything, it’s fixing stuff.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Joel grumbles.

“How was school?” you ask.

Sarah’s shoulders fall a bit, but she quickly shakes it off and smiles, “It was good, nothing interesting happened.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t pry. Joel doesn’t seem to notice Sarah’s mood change. “We should better head off,” he says.

“But I’m still eating,” Sarah whines. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?”

“We don’t wanna overstay our welcome.”

You almost laugh at such an absurd thing. Him, overstaying his welcome? Never. But you also understand why he does it. Sarah is smart and by the looks she was giving you and him, she’s probably already suspicious.

“You guys should take half of it,” you say, standing up. “I’m only one person anyway. If I eat this much watermelon I’ll end up growing one inside of me.”

Both of them look at you deadpanned, you laugh, “You both have no humor!”

Sarah turns to Joel, “Dad, I think you might wanna check if her water is laced with something.”

“I think you’re right, baby girl,” Joel nods seriously. “There’s no other reason she would find that funny.”

“If you guys keep that up I’m not giving you squat.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” they say at the same time.

You shake your head, snorting at the father and daughter duo. Both of them were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

However, you can’t seem to stop smiling as you head inside to get them a container to put the slices into.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller smut #stay in bed series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #scheduled

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ectologia · 1 month

Text

BEAUTIFUL IS BORING

TOMURA SHIGARAKI, TŌYA TODOROKI (DABI), KEIGO TAKAMI X FEMALE READER

CONTENT ♱ COLLEGE AU, QUIRKLESS AU, PROFANITY, MISOGYNY, DRUGS, SEXUAL ASSAULT (DABI ON TOMURA), BULLYING, PUBLIC MASTURBATION, MALE MASTURBATION

THIS IS AN UNFINISHED PROJECT, AND PROBABLY WILL NEVER BE FINISHED but here it is anyway ;p

“Can I sit here?”

“I dunno’ can you?”

You draw back at his harsh tone and grating voice. He glares at you with the hint of a smile playing on his chapped lips. He was a peculiar looking fellow. His skin was pale enough to appear almost translucent like moonstone, while his hair sat a muted blue of kinked wave’s across his forehead and partly down his neck just reaching his shoulders, it would be easy to mistake him as albino if it weren’t for his leaden brows and eyelashes. His attire, bland, a black hoodie dusted in lint and white hair, his jeans sported the same but with ominous white stains sat flaking on the denim fibres.

You recollect yourself. “That’s my seat.” You gesture to the chair bowed beneath his tattered sneakers.

“You think?” He places his feet back on the ground with a simper, allowing you to settle down.

You catch how he scoffs at your colourfull stationery, murmuring something about “Women.”

“Why the fuck are you so close?” He hisses, scooting his chair to the left. You turn to him with your mouth agape, preparing to challenge his accusation with a remark of your own before the abrupt slam of a door has you both snapping your heads up to the front.

“Late again, Mr. Todoroki” Your teacher emits a long, audible breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose, turning to his computer.

“Traffic was bad.” He snickers feigning an apologetic pout as he greets a blond man sat at the front, grasping his fist in a tight hug and clapping him on the back while they laugh obnoxiously.

His hair, although dishevelled, glossed in a velvety palette of stygian, the thick locks dancing like silk ribbons against the light as he bounces. His skin is decorated in swirls of black, the tantalising illustrations streaming from his jaw, down to his neck and across his arms, sleeving him in a coat of ink. The contrast of the man’s overcast appearance pales in comparison to the bewitching cerulean of his eyes, placed amongst his pierced metal features.

You find yourself gazing at the man for an exceedingly long while as he saunters to his desk, slumping down into his chair with spread knees.

Shigaraki glowers at your shameless ogling, muttering complaints.

You ignore his mumbling, instead turning to him with a keen interest. “Who is he?”

He groans at your curiosity, turning back to face the front without responding.

“Hey, who is he?” You persist, leaning over the desk to garner his attention. From this angle, you’re able to behold every inch of his features. You notice the swathes of scarlet and flaking skin along the path of his neck and surprisingly angular jaw.

He glances to the side at your hovering form. From this angle, he notices just how your plush tits spill over the rim of the desk as you curl over it, the pliant flesh moulding and squashing as you stir.

His tongue writhes in his mouth, licking over his teeth before speaking. “Dabi.” He has to refrain from visibly recoiling, not only from how you beam at the information, but at the contemptibly stomach-churning taste of his name.

You turn back to the man in questionon, brilliant half-lidded sapphires hypnotising you. He licks his lips, the metal ball of his piercing clinking as he sends an intoxicating smirk your way. You watch as he leans over to his flaxen companion, the two conversing as their eyes flicker in your direction.

“Who’s the blond?” You ask, your eyes locked on the two.

“Keigo.”

The curt answer satisfies you. You take one last look before holding up your pen, a playful smile hidden beneath your hand. Shigaraki sees this, livid at your display before speaking once again. “I’de stay away from him, if I were you.” He trails of by the last few words.

“Who?”

“Both of ‘em.”

He takes his pen back up, turning away after his ominous declaration.

“Why?” You push, intrigued by his distinct contempt towards the two men.

He doesn’t answer. Collecting his belongings, he chucks his books haphazardly into his shoddy backpack before tossing it over his shoulder. “Just stay away from them.” He leaves you bewildered as you watch him filter through the crowded exit of the classroom, the group of students parting through the middle for him as if he were a disease ridden mongrel, his static waves flouncing against his face as he shoulders past the cluster of frowning pupils.

A cold sweat accumulates on the small of Tomura’s back. Travelling down across his taint and underneath his heavy ballsack as he pumps himself feverishly — stimulation his tip with his thumb and two forefingers, massaging the swollen glands as he humps the air. The subtle, wet fap of his cock echoes within the stall he had chosen to lock himself in. Chucking his head back, intoxicated by the pleasure. He braces himself, planting his feet on the tiled floor of the bathroom as his hips speed up, stuffing his chubby dick into his palm, fisting the overstimulated appendage to climax. “Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..” He was entranced, spell-bound by you. The image of your glossy doe-eyes curtained by your long black lashes set on him, how you leant over the desk — how your fat tits practically spilled over onto his paper as you spoke to him, how you smiled at Dabi. He wanted it all to himself.

If it wasn’t clear, Tomura was not exactly popular, let alone with the ladies. You were the first ever female in his life time at this shit-hole of a school to actually give him the time of day, and not just to glare and snicker at his appearance and disturbed demeanour. He wanted more. He wanted you, dangerously.

He pleads to nobody, the hem of his hoodie clamped between his teeth while his jeans are shimmied to his mid thigh. Normally when he’d choose to masturbate in public he’d only ever expose himself as much as necessary, pulling his hardened cock out from the slit of his zipper to pump himself.

He couldn’t risk blowing his load all over the place, but then again..

“Come on, come on. Cum. Cum.” He chants to himself in a frenzy as though he was motivating the arrival of his orgasm, one harsh stroke after another.

“Yo! Tomura!”

The harsh crash of a fist swinging against the flimsy door startles Tomura, the abrupt spike of adrenaline causing ropes of milky white shooting from his puckered slit across his lap, squirting onto the floor. He grasps onto the side of the toilet seat, hitting it for relief as he twitches in a disturbed state of orgasmic euphoria. Squeezing his eyes shut as he grinds his teeth into the cloth of his hoodie.

“Stop jerking off your little pencil maggot and get out here.” Tomura flinches at the husky voice of the man stood outside, no doubt with his vexing accomplice.

He quickly tucks his softening member into his boxers, zipping his jeans up over the pudgy bulge of his cock and balls while he clumsily slips and slides in his own semen, the rubber sole of his sneakers squeaking in the slippery mess.

“Tomur—aaaa.. come out, come out.” Keigo sing songs, joining Dabi in his endeavour to beat the bathroom door down before Tomura has a chance to open it.

“Fuck, just a wait a second you pricks, I’m coming!” Tomura growls, cringing at the milky sheen coating his fingers as he mops the floor clean with the cheap, school grade toilet paper hung from the wall.

Dabi and Keigo halt in their ministrations, turning to each other with equally foul grins as they chuckle to themselves at his miscommunication.

“Yeah, I bet you are.” Dabi sniggers.

Tomura groans, roughly swinging the bathroom door open, missing Keigo by an inch as he jumps back, curling his brows. He shoulders past the two, his nose wrinkled in discomfort after having his orgasm ruined. He makes no effort to acknowledge either of them as he looms over the sink, scrubbing at his hands beneath the tepid stream of water. His eyes flicker up to meet Dabi’s fiendish stare, flinching as he sees a tattooed hand raise from his side.

“So..”

“You got the stuff?”

A heavy arm slings itself around Tomura’s boney shoulders, jostling his frail body side to side. Keigo stalks nearer to the scene with an equally hedonistic smirk plastered across his handsome face.

“Yeah, yeah. Just gimme’ a second, fuck.” Dabi is shrugged off as Tomura rummages through the adjacent slot of his backpack, carefully pulling out a miniature zip-lock bag stuffed with a snowy white dust.

“Holy shit.” The plastic is swiped out of Tomura’s pinched fingers instantly. Keigo raises it in the air, squinting at the powder through the rays of artificial white light.

While Dabi leaves Keigo to his drug-addicted, junkie shenanigans, he saunters closer to Tomura’s hunched form, staring at him through slitted eyes.

Tomura shifts under his scrutinising gaze. “What?”

“Who’s your new girlfriend then, Shiggy?”

“What?”

He sounds like a broken record.

Dabi chuckles, popping the joints in his fingers. “Don’t play dumb with me, Shigs.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, I don’t even know the bitch.”

Keigo appears on the scene like clock work, weaselling himself in next to Dabi, still clutching the non licet packet in his fist. “Woah, Tomura finally got a girlfriend?” He claps him on the back, a little to roughly for his liking as he’s almost sent forward on his feet. “Congrats man! I always knew it’d happen one day.” Keigo grins. “Now you can stop fuckin’ your fist ev—”

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend!” A set of crooked fingers raise to claw at his slender neck.

“Ah, we’re just messing with ya’ Shigs.” Dabi exhales. “But she’s pretty cute, no? Nice tits.”

Tomura grumbles and huffs under his breath, slowly sinking into the cotton of his hoodie. “I don’t care..”

“Sure ya’ do.” Keigo hovers in-front of him like a pesky fly while Dabi shadows him from behind, hooking to thick forearms underneath his.

“Bet’cha dicks all hard just thinking about it.” The two howl with boyish laughter as a tattooed hand comes down to squeeze Tomura’s bulge, jiggling the sizeable package in his palm.

Tomura thrashes in his hold. “Fuck off!”

The moment Dabi retracts, he’s cupping his crotch defensively. “Prick.”

By time Tomura’s managed to cool himself down from the direct assault, both men are slinking out of the bathroom with a curt flick of Dabi’s wrist.

“See ya, Shigs.”

Dabi stops in his tracks, allowing Keigo to glide past. “And don’t go talkin’ to any bitches without my permission, yeah?”

The way his figure slumps into the seat with a zealous glide has you perking.

“How come you’re so hap—”

The mismatch of red to yellow has you frowning.

“Hey, there.” Keigo props an elbow onto the desk, and with that, a chin in his palm, sleazing a lop-sided smile.

“Oh. It’s you.” You twirl and twist your pen in between your fingers.

His tongue darts out to wet the rosy, plumpness of his lips. “Disappointed?” Golden eyes squint at you from the creases of his seemingly never-ending grin.

“No, I—”

He shifts closer with a chuckle. “Excited?”

The corners of your mouth quirk up into a curt smile at his incessancy. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

He cocks his head like a raptor.

“According to who?”

The way you drift, scanning your surroundings as you attempt to think up a valid answer has his brows slanting.

“Come on, I ain’t gonna’ bite ya.” He leans forward, spidering a hand across the spine of your chair. “Unless you’re into that kinda’ thing.”

Warmth prickles the surface of your cheeks at his bold innuendo and proximity.

You can’t help but admit it makes you feel hot under the collar, being practically cornered and squished and squeezed between the ridge of your desk and Keigo’s pumped, muscular arms snaking around your back.

You’re unaccustomed to the scent of heavy sandalwood and spice. You’ve been sat next to Tomura in this god-forsaken class room for so long. You forgot what it’s like to be in the space, in the company, of a real man. A handsome man, a good-looking, charming, athletic, lady’s kind of man.

You trace his sharp features, where an exotic, smooth tropical caramel replaces rough, pale milky-white skin. Where sunset streaks of thick, flaxen copper and wheat replace threaded, creeping white tresses of silver locks. And slitted, rusted golds of pooling honey over-shadow deep, blood-red crimson rubies.

He’s handsome, that’s a given. He probably has women of all ages fawning, falling, tripping all over him. Begging to be taken out on a date just to be seen with him, or at the very least, to suck on his cock, for that teensy bit of stardom.

But he’s definitely not him.

“Get out of my seat.”

Two sets of eyes snap up to address the raspy croak. Shifting to meet Tomura’s stoic gaze.

“Oh, hey there Shiggy.” Keigo’s still smiling with those pearly white teeth, even making a point to slouch back even further into Tomura’s chair. “How’ve you been? I was just talk to your g—”

“I don’t care. Move.”

Keigo’s expression is unwavering, despite the sudden gloom that creeps behind his eerie grin like a dark storm-cloud.

“Now.”

Keigo unravels his crossed legs and leaps from his position within two beats, tutting.

“Sure thing, buddy.” A lazy hand rests atop the frail bones of Tomura’s shoulder, gripping and digging into the delicate surface. His petalled lips move to whisper into Tomura’s ear with a hushed growl. “Was just keeping it warm for ya.”

Tomura rolls the balled joint, shaking Keigo’s clawed hand off of him before collapsing into the chair with an incoherent grumble

“Hi, Tomura.”

“What?”

You click your tongue at his shifty antics, opting to turn back to the front.

“Why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t, he came ov—”

He scoffs, not even sparing you a second glance. “I told you to stay away from him.”

“Yeah, but I—”

“Just don’t talk to him. Or Dabi, they’re bad.”

“Bad, how?”

“They’ll hurt you.”

“And how do you know?”

The way his boney fingers tangle themselves into the cotton of his hood has you frowning “I just do.”

You find it best to just leave it there, as is. “How come come you’re late?” The way you cock your head has him feeling queasy.

“None of your fuckin’ business.” He grunts, adjusting the pudge of his crotch before folding his arms against his stomach and sinking down into his seat, the length of his spread legs completely encompassing the space beneath the desk.

You’re addled by how large he really is in comparison. Were is thighs always that thick, or had his pants just shrunk? He never takes his hoodies off so you’re in the dark about what kind of big, bulging muscles he could have under there. All it takes is a quick glance to your right to notice those veiny bear paws gripping his pen for dear life. His fingers are lithe and crooked, like they’d been broken again and again, whereas his knuckles were bruised all the same. A wall puncher perhaps? You already knew he had a bit of a temper.

UNFINISHED.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha smut #dabi #hawks #keigo takami #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut

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killsbil · 23 days

Text

His Muse

Pairing : Ghost x Secretary Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, choking, ghost jacking off in his car. Ghost driving for some damn reason

18+ ONLY MDNI

( YES, HETEROCHROMIA GHOST. CRY)

Now, you were a secretary for a special operations force called Task Force 141. While being the secretary, they had strict rules, of course, it wasn't JUST for you, but they weren't anything hard to follow honestly. It's not like you were some damn horny teenager, you were just trying to get by with this job. You wanted some job that could help you real good...and somehow you landed with this one, being the secretary, you only had to organize nearly everything, write reports, and emails, keep up with data, and do whatever Captain Pierce asks of you.

None of the members spoke to you as they never really saw you, well they did, but you didn't pay attention. Your face was always focused on the computer, typing away, but hey? What's a girl gotta do to get by yeah? One task force menber caught your eye, Simon Riley, he was quiet, and when he spoke his voice was cold, a little too serious. But when he looked at you, you wouldn't look back. He was honestly scary looking, honestly, he looked like he could just snap you in half if you said something wrong. You never spoke to him, he's always busy, you're Always busy... and either way, what would you say to him? The only thing you could think about saying was something about his eyes, they were pretty, one eye was brown, the other grayish blue. You had never seen heterochromia in person before, it was beautiful. It wouldn't hurt to tell him that... Right? Y/n had thought, it was not like he would kill her for that.

Noticing the time, and one of the recent emails from Captain Pierce, she had to bring a folder of mission data to the meeting...in that room ..with all those people. That wasn't scary...at all, y/n unlocked her cabinet, reached in the middle for a file, and closed it back, locking it.

She'd walk down the hallway and then turn to her right, knocking on a door, the sign next to the door would read "conference room". Through the window she saw a black male, with short curly hair, he was leaning back in his chair, he turned to her and smiled for a split second. his eyes went back to somebody who was talking, Shortly after the talk was done, y/n was allowed into the room, she walked over to Captain Pierce, placing the folder down as she turned around, she saw an empty chair next to a task force member named soap, he was nice, but all discussions y/n had with him were short. Was that Ghost's chair? Noticing y/n's stare, soap smiled, his other hand which rested behind a chair pointed down the hall.

Usually, he didn't do this, he would ignore her if she came in during meetings because she wasn't supposed to hear a thing about the meetings, y/n snapped out of it as she left, closing the door behind her. Now, she didn't like him like a crush, nor was she a fan of him, she just wanted to tell him her lil compliment.

Y/n went down the hall and turned, seeing a man pour him some coffee, it was a ghost, and he needed a breather. Y/n leaned on the wall as she watched him. Honestly ..he was so.. it was unexplainable but ...the girls that get it, get it. "You just gonna stand there and look stupid?" He said, not even turning around "Oh! Sorry I-'' she was about to explain before he finished her sentence" Didn't mean to," he said..pouring coffee into his coffee cup.

"How did you know what I was gonna say?" She asked him, as she walked closer, leaning on the counter "Cause that's what every secretary before you said " he said, his voice was cold, it was like he was just...tired of playing this game, over and over. "Every secretary before me? What happened to them?" Y/n asked, now...she was curious! She had forgotten all about her compliment. Ghost would let out a sigh as he turned around. "they all got terminated, fired. Breaking rules.. or they were spies" he said, he had some skull balaclava on, not the full mask, ghost would place his cup down leaning on the counter.

"you're gonna end up just like them, you're gonna take a bribe and spy, or break that rule." He added on, he read her like a book, y/n though, she scrunched up her face in confusion, somehow feeling a little disrespectful "Okay mr mysterious" she said with a slight eye roll. "Ghost." He corrected her, his voice firm "Lieutenant ghost." He said. Y/n's eyes widened when she realized his rank, now she felt a little demotion coming for that eye roll. Ghost's face was blank, with no expression, just those eyes staring at her as if he was reading her like a book. " What rule did they break" Y/n was a little interested in the lore now.. she was glad she was on break, otherwise Captain Pierce would have her head.

"Someone lacks critical thinking skills.." he mumbled, who invited him to the bitch fest? "No dating rule. They come up to me just like you did ...no ill intent, ask questions...then there's that compliment, and it starts something" he said, each word he got close to her, y/n leaned back against the counter as his hands rested on the counter, trapping her, his eyes stared down at her as if he was disappointed. "I'm gonna say this once... Don't treat this like it's some game like you can just sway a coworker with this innocent act, be professional" he said, he was tired. But was he tired of those girls just .. treating him like he was an award, an object for pleasure, or just....the betrayal, tired of having hope, letting someone close, and then...boom.

Well, the answer was he was just... Tired of the unprofessionalism "Huh -" y/n noticed how close he was, her heart beat so damn fast, hell! She wasn't trying to seduce him, she just wanted to give him that compliment." I...I just wanted to say your eyes are pretty. I never saw them up close. I'm sorry if you thought I was trying to pursue you Lieutenant" she said, and ghost was wrong, well, half wrong. He shook his head "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Run along." He said turning his back to her and going back to his coffee...

Y/n was so confused...what the hell? She was NOT trying to seduce this man," um...right." she said walking back to her desk, part of her kind of liked that. But the other part was so damn confusing. Now, for the rest of her break, she was on the phone with her best friend until...she felt her phone vibrate, from a text message.. sent an unknown number. "Girl hold on...some number just texted me..." She said, putting her on speaker, "bitch don't you have it where unsaved numbers can't contact you??" She said, "Girl yes I do, that's why I'm confused."

She looked at the text message reading You're Loud. we can hear you down here. Now she knew it wasn't Captain Pierce because she had his number saved. "Is it your boss?" She asked "No? I have his number saved, remember he gave us that ride back to my house?" Y/n said "Oh shit...right Anyway, when is he gonna let me climb that tree-" she said "Bye Audrey, you are not getting me fired because you're sexually attracted to my boss- WHO COULD BE YOUR DAD," y/n said "call me a panther. I'm ready to take it..." Audrey said. "Bye ...get off my phone.. you're distracting me, I'll see you later." Y/n hung up on her sighing

She was a hot mess, Audrey was the friend with no filter, but anyway. She would look at the message rolling her eyes a little, y/n texted the number back saying Sorry about that, but who is this and how did you get my number? only for it to be left on read for about 50 minutes. She just rolled her eyes going back to organizing meetings and events. She hummed, and of course..responding to emails, she kind of neglected them.

Shortly after that, her phone lit up as she got a text message that said Lieutenant Ghost. with that she saved the contact. She wanted to mess with him a little, to ease the weird tension between them Responding 56 minutes later? now nice of you. She would text him. Yes, she thought she ate that. This time she got a quick response It's disrespectful to be on your phones during meetings, and you're counting the minutes Ms L/n? Y/n saw that, was she just eaten up respectfully? And Ms? SHE'S NOT EVEN MARRIED? Oh.. you could just call me Y/n, and I'm not married Lieutenant.. it would be Miss.. she would respond to his text Yeah YEAH she ate him up. noted. Would be the last text message he even sent.

soon came the end of the day, when everyone left, y/n was the only one left she had to stay back and respond to some emails, once she was done she'd lock her computer and would put any paperwork she left out, back in the respective drawers, when she went to the door she had seen the rain attacking the streets, this caused a loud annoyed groan from y/n, she didn't bring a damn umbrella cause she swore it wouldn't rain today. She suddenly felt someone behind her... who was left here? Was she not alone? As soon as she turned, she saw that it was Lieutenant Ghost, holding an umbrella at her "How far is your car..." He said. Now he didn't want her getting drenched in the rain, that's the nicest he could be at least "Oh no- my friends picking me up..." She said, smiling. That smile unthawed that heart of his, just a little. " It's 11:00 pm L/n, normal people are asleep by now," he said.

"So...you're not normal?" She asked, her smile getting wider, ghost just raised an eyebrow.."let me take you home." He said opening the door for her, he didn't exactly answer that question of hers ``You can drive? Gaz said ...you can't drive, you shouldn't be allowed behind the wheel" She said, if you saw the look on y/n's face, she looked horrified. "Do you want a ride home or do you want a sneak peek at the next little mermaid." He was getting drenched waiting for her, y/n laughed at his comment, and she stepped under the umbrella and followed him to his car, which was an eight-seater, and she mumbled sorry since she felt bad for him getting drenched. Ghost just got in behind the wheel, y/n turned to him asking him a question "Hey... Lieutenant... How come you're staying back?? Wouldn't you be sleeping about this time?" She asked "I could ask you the same, but I was getting training in.. that's all," he said, but the look on his face said differently.

Now ghost? He took care of his body, he had...muscle, a lot of it.. it was even visible when he wasn't flexing. Y/n would stare at his arms and hands as he drove, then slowly, her eyes moved back to his very own beautiful eyes. "Are you sure? You have this look on your face... Like you're not here mentally.." She said, Ghost stopped at a light, turning to her "You know, some questions aren't supposed to be asked," he said. "Well- I'm here for" "No you're not." He corrected her, internally, Ghost felt like he couldn't speak to anyone, it was a waste of time. "you can't handle anything I would tell you. that's if I did." He said, shaking his head, "How come? I'm helpful- I can handle it." She said " No." He repeated. "Please - I promise I can lift a weight off your shoulders" she begged, she wanted to help him, she felt like he could use a friend honestly "No. I'm not gonna say it again." Ghost said, sounding annoyed.

"Everyone does- "Y/n tried to speak, but she got cut off " Y/N. For the last time no, don't waste your time. You'd only hurt yourself..you'd be useless in this situation" He said, his voice like a stab directly into the heart, after that, y/n got quiet..then she furrowed her eyebrows turning to him "You don't need to be rude." She said Ghost looked confused, he didn't expect her to talk back "And I'm not useless... I'm a great listener! I don't know why but, ever since I've talked to you, you've done nothing but assume the worst about me. I just want to be your friend!" She said, Ghost started driving again, going silent before he deeply sighed "Colleagues, especially us, can't be friends. You're gonna be just like-" "I'm not like them- I don't wanna use you like a boy toy! I just think you're cool for fucks sake !" Y/n was starting to get so damn tired of his mindset.

"I understand you have this...wound but you can't just make it seem like I'm some weirdo... I'm not gonna befriend you, sleep with you, then leave! I think you're cool! " She said, "Besides, friends don't do any of that!" She added nodding. "If I say yes, are you gonna stop asking to be my friend?" He said, annoyed, he did feel a little better about her now that he knew she wasn't gonna try anything. "Yes!" Said smiling. "Does this mean I get to know your name?" She said, her smile all big.. ghost would let out a large...long dramatic sigh "Simon." He said, "That's a cute name !" She said, going to his contact, and changing his name, Ghost watched her shaking his head "But don't call me that at work. At least keep some professionalism" he said "Does that mean you'll call me by my first name?" She ignored what he said

"Did you hear what I said?" He stopped the car, turning to her with a serious look" Yes...." She said, looking away. The whole ride she didn't look him in the eyes, Ghost noticed that "look at me ." He asked, instead y/n would turning to look at a tree, Ghost would park between two cars as he gripped the girl's jaw, making her look at him. "What did I say?" He asked her, y/n stared in his eyes, fuck. She got nervous, butterflies filled her stomach as she bit her lips "Umm.. call you Lieutenant something. During work ...professional stuff..yeah." she said. Suddenly the tension between them got hot..

Ghost sighed, looking at her pretty lips a little too long.. "fuck.." he said"what... Do I have something on my face?" She said furrowing her eyebrows, confused "Nah..." He said just ..staring, was he gonna kiss her? "Hey- I mean...if you wanna kiss me .. do it, yolo?" She said, honestly she thought 3 things were gonna happen, he headbutts the fuck out of her, kisses her, or or or. Well, scratch those two things.

"That'd be unprofessional.." he said, his eyes never leaving her lips. "Oh for fucks sake then fire me for this." She lifted his mask to his lips, kissing him, and she held his face. The next thing you knew she was on his lap making out with the masked man, it got hot...he gripped her waist as her kiss got serious. A moan came from y/n as Ghost's hand slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Suddenly y/n heard her name being called, she snapped out of it looking at ghosts.

"Bloody hell. You look like you just saw a ghost." He said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion "I'm sorry Lieutenant, what were you saying..?" Y/n said blinking a couple of times "I said did you hear what I said?" He said "Oh yeah ..professionalism." she said, sighing "No, I asked you for your address?" Now Ghost was confused "What's with you? You were just staring off?" He said, looking her up and down. "Nothing...I could've just sworn... Something had happened. But it didn't? I was just imagining it." Y/n said, "But I live...." She told him his address, she only lived a couple blocks down from him.

Eventually, y/n and ghost pulled up to her pretty house, she watched the rain fall with a smile, and then she turned to Ghost "Hey.. I have a question lieutenant.." she said "Simon, we are out of work.." he said, this girl fought to be his friend and get the privilege of knowing and calling him by his name... Now she's not? "But lieutenant sounds better," she said, aggravating Simon, and she knew she was. "God, you're annoying..what is it? What's your question" he said, sighing.. he was getting used to y/n honestly.. She was cute in a sense.

"Can we take a photo ? I wanna put it in your contact.. " she said, Ghost sighed "..." He looked at her, and the look he gave told her no, but ... She wanted a yes, she pleaded, doing the little look and all "fine." Ghost, a dog trained to kill mercilessly, cracked to a secretary pleading for a photo "but don't show anyone it. Got it?" He said

"Thank you, Simon!" She giggled and hugged him, this caught Him off guard, he wasn't.. the type of person who did physical affection, but his arms wrapped around her, hugging her back as a part of him wanted to cry, she felt so nice and warm. Something so comforting, he had the urge to protect her, the urge to lock her in a cage and keep her all to himself. "Ghost..?" She said as he spaced out, his head resting on her shoulder, his grip was firm but allowed her to move

she pulled back slightly reaching for his face, and that's when his eyes snapped to her, he released her looking away.. suddenly y/ns giggle was heard "You're a hugger." She said, "I'm a soldier." He replied she shook her head "No no, deep down that hug, you cherished it..that moment was something you're gonna remember" she said, he rolled his eyes turning his head to him"What are you- some psychologist?" He squinted.

"Oh no - I went to college for ( insert major of your choice) I could never do psychology! But my friend Audrey is a psychologist so I know a couple of things." She said proudly, Ghost nodded, he knew to remember Audrey "Come on and take this picture..you got some sleep to get." He said, "Aww you care!" She said messing with him. "Y/n." He said, "Okay okay!" She laughed, his care filled with her joy and giggles... Something for a change ... Maybe she wasn't like the others, well he hoped so.

She leaned in, getting him in the frame, but he barely was in it "Oh let me readjust!" She said she moved a little, and it didn't fix. This process went on for 6 minutes. "Note to self.. don't let y/n take pictures ." He sighed "Just... Sit on my lap for the picture." He said. Y/n grew flustered, "but I could crush you-" she said trying to find a better alternative, Ghost looked offended " ' I can lift you easy, you'll find out someday..But hurry up." She said,

she sighed, climbing into his lap hovering, getting ready to take the picture, ghost glared, putting his hands onto her waist as he forced her down with ease as if she was some kind of lightweight to him." see. not that hard to sit down and listen. Atta girl, now take the picture." He said, atta girl? Sit down and listen. Y/n was flustered by his words... Whew lord she needed to act right .. She felt his arms wrap around her, and she took the picture smiling. She didn't know what Ghost did, but she took it.

Y/n had accidentally dropped her phone, she moved back against Ghost as she bent down while sitting on him "What are you doing-" he said, his heart dropping as he felt her right above something she shouldn't be on. "Well I dropped my phone, so he still!" She said she was the only one moving around, god, she didn't mean to grind but she was doing it! Ghost bit down on his lips as he resisted the urge to just.. thrust up, suddenly he felt her warmth...that didn't help. "Y/n... Please just ...look normally.." he said, his voice cracking

"Shut up I almost got it!" She said, her lower body hovering above the said area before roughly sitting down, this made Ghost tilt his head up as he roughly gripped her waist forcing her to sit up. "Have you got that damn phone yet?" He said, his chest heaving up and down. "Yeah! I got it as soon as you pulled me up, thanks again for the ride Simon, I'll pay you back I promise...are you gonna watch me go in my house?" She asked, Simon just nodded as he watched her get up, and out of the car leaving to go inside her house

GHOST POV

fuck... I know she didn't mean to do that but... Shit. Why am I so riled up over something like that? Get it together lieutenant. He thought, he looked down at his boner as he sighed...she's in her house ...and it's not like y/n could see through his windows. He sighed, unbuckling his pants, and pulling down his boxers just to see his erect cock spring out, pre cum nearly leaking out, he removed his gloves sighed, closed them strokes his shaft. You're probably wondering what he imagined, of course, it was y/n, he tilted his head back only to see y/n bouncing on his cock, a moaning and teary mess.

He bucked his hips up into his hand as he visualized how pretty her boobs would look bouncing every time she did, looking down just to see a bulge , he was the one causing it. Her whines and moans, her pleading for him to go faster, rougher, to choke her. And he did just that, then...a word came out. "love you so much!" she said, instead of shocking ghost, in this scenario he took his mask off begining to mark her up with bite marks and hickeys. Y/n gripped his short blonde shaggy hair. His thrusts became passionate as he Whined "so good..so good .. nice and warm for me" he said in a shakey voice... Finally, he came A little too much, the little scenario ended as he opened his eyes to him being in his car parked out by y/ns house, he cleaned himself up. Simon has a moment of clarity... He just sighed, before speaking to himself "I'm setting myself up again..." He said before fixing himself, driving off.

160 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 9 months

Note

What would Edmund do with a Jester! Reader? *COUGH* asking for a friend 👀

Dance, my puppet

platonic!Yandere!king OC x jester!male!reader

Summary: being the spoiled king's personal jester puts a lot of pressure on your shoulders ... but what happens when he overworks you to the point of needing rest?

Warnings: unreasonable Edmund, choking, kidnapping, objectifying reader, mentions of killing

Word count: 2k

You hate how he looks at you. The way his icy blue eyes stare right through you as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat. You should be used to it, shouldn’t you? You’ve performed for him more times that you can count, but it never sits right with you. Every time he’s in need of entertainment, you’re brought out to embarrass yourself.

This time when you go to the dressing room reserved for you, you can hear the door open behind you. You turn around … and there he is.

“What do you want?” you ask and quickly add: “your majesty.”

“I want you to be the royal jester”, king Edmund says simply, cutting straight to the point. “I want you to perform for me only.”

“I wish I could, your majesty, but I have more clients I’ve already booked.”

He takes a step forward.

“So cancel them”, he says.

“I can’t”, you tell him. “They’ve scheduled months in advance, I can’t just … cancel. They’re high class families, if I cancel them, they’ll give me a bad reputation.”

“I don’t care. Cancel them. You’re going to be the court jester from now on.”

“Your majesty-”

“If you don’t accept the offer, I will force you to. You’ll be my personal jester whether you like it or not, so choosing the preferred way is entirely up to you, sir.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. There’s always been an eerie feeling after you’ve been performing for him. You’ve felt … dissected — like a frog or a fish. You only perform for him because you have to, he’s the king after all, but you don’t want to make it into a habit.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me?” king Edmund scoffs. “You have a lot of nerve.”

“And a lot of stress, your majesty”, you mutter. “I’m honored that you want to have me as your jester, but-”

You don’t have time to finish the sentence before you feel his hand wrap around your throat. It shuts you up in an instant, and brings you at his mercy.

“As I said”, kind Edmund says lowly. “I do not care about your other clients. I’m your king and you shall obey me, is that clear?”

You nod quickly. Even if he wasn’t squeezing his hand around your throat until you saw dancing dots, you’d not dare try your voice — unsure if it was going to hold.

“You will cancel every, single event”, king Edmund tells you warningly. “Otherwise I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?”

You nod again. Your blood has gone icy and soon your vision has gone black. Edmund lets you go and you draw in a deep breath while stumbling backwards. You grab a hold of the drawer and give him a wide eyed look. Edmund walks over and pets your hair.

“I’ll see you back here tomorrow”, he says and leaves.

The second the doors close, you gulp. What are you going to do?

From day that onwards, you perform for him every. single. day. If you come late, repeat jokes or show the slightest disinterest, you get a taste of the rat infected dungeons. You want to rip your hair out from the stress of coming up with new jokes, new acts, new songs. You’ve gotten a room a the castle and while you’re not performing, they lock you in and tell you to come up with something new for the next day. You’re not burned out, you’re run over, thrown in a ditch and left to rot.

“He looks weird today”, the king mutters as you start your act.

You can barely hear what he’s saying. There’s a wall between you and him. Your limbs are heavy and hard to move, your voice comes out in a sluggish mumble. The world around you shrinks along with your vision and before you know it, you’ve hit your head on the marble floor. Edmund stands up and signals for a guard to pick you up.

“What’s wrong with him?” Edmund asks. “Why is my puppet not up and running?”

“Your majesty, I think he fainted”, the guard who holds you says. He touches your forehead. “I think he has a fever.”

“A fever? How can that happen?”

“I’m not sure. I think we need to get the doctor.”

“Go put him to bed.”

Edmund follows the guard to your room and watches how you get tucked in. The guard runs to fetch the royal doctor. Edmund stays … and watches you. He removes your jester hat and places it on the nightstand. The bells on it rings, mocking him. He stares at you.

The doctor arrives and examines you thoroughly.

“He’s overworked, your majesty”, he says and sighs. “He needs to rest. No performances for at least two weeks.”

“Two weeks?!” king Edmund bursts out. “I can’t go two weeks!”

“We can hire another jester”, the guard suggests. “Until Y/N is well again.”

“I don’t want another jester!”

“I know, your majesty, but for now there’s not much we can do”, the doctor says.

Edmund runs his hand through his dark hair and looks at you.

“Give him something!” he demands. “Some medicine, some elixir, I don’t care! He needs to be working as soon as possible!”

“And that ‘as soon as possible’ is in minimum two weeks, your majesty”, the doctor reminds him.

Edmund grabs the jester hat and throws it against the wall.

“Fine”, he says and turns to the guard. “Get another jester. They better be half as good as Y/N or else I will kill them, do you understand that?!”

Edmund has time to kill three jesters before you have the energy to leave the bed. The king runs to your room and slams the door open.

“You can stand!” he says in satisfaction. “Therefore, you can perform for me!”

“Your majesty … I can’t”, you say weakly and sit down on the side of your bed. “I feel horrible.”

“But … you’re a jester … you should be able to crack jokes … and sing. That’s your whole thing.”

“Your majesty, have you ever felt tired of your royal studies? Your teachers force you to do more and more homework when you feel like you’re going to fall asleep?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“If I could perform for you, I would. That’s what I mean. You need to believe me that I’m not feeling well.”

“How much longer is it going to take then?” Edmund almost whines. “I’ve been bored out of my goddamn mind these last two weeks! I’ve hired jester after jester, but none of them entertains me in the way you do. You have to get well quickly.”

“In that case, I need the right type of rest.”

Edmund looks lost. For once, he can’t buy what he wants, he can’t get what he wants in an instant. And it makes him crazy.

“What can I do to speed up the process?” he asks. “What do you need?”

“I need to sleep, eat and get some fresh air.”

“Fre- … fresh air?” Edmund almost chokes on his spit. “I don’t want you to go out. I can open a window.”

“I want to be able to change environment, your majesty. You’ve been keeping me locked in for a month.”

“Stop calling me that. Call me Edmund. It sounds so weird when you call me that.”

“Are you sure? We’re not friends.”

“Well, you’re my private jester. You’re obviously something to me. I’ll stop calling you ‘sir’ and you’ll stop calling me ‘your majesty’, okay?”

You nod.

“Alright”, Edmund decides. “I will go out of my busy way to personally make sure that you get well.”

“Oh, uh, thank you … Edmund.”

For once, he smiles.

“Shall we start now, then?” Edmund asks with his hands clutched together tightly behind his back. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ve been lying in bed for two weeks, I’d like to stretch my legs. Can we go out?”

“...fine.”

You walk side by side, wearing your pajamas while Edmund is wearing his entire costume. The garden is currently covered in red, yellow and brown leaves, there’s not a single flower left in sight. You shiver.

“Why didn’t you bring a coat?” Edmund asks harshly, but before you have time to answer, he’s taken off his own and hung it around your shoulders. He starts buttoning it up. “You’re a clueless little puppet. When you’re not well you can’t even think on your own.”

“I’m not a puppet.”

“Yes, you are. You speak on command, you sing on command, you dance on command — what else would you be?”

“Sounds like a bird trapped in a cage.”

“At least you have nice feathers then.”

You stroll around the garden for fifteen minutes before Edmund decides that you’ve had enough. He grabs a hold of your arm and drags you with him.

"Oh, please be careful!" you beg him. "My legs hurt."

Edmund halts.

"They hurt?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me? I need to know everything if I'm going to be able to help you!"

"It's manageable, I thought it didn't matter."

"Didn't matter? Fucking hell, Y/N."

He takes a harsher grip on your arm and steps closer. You want to back away, but stand your ground.

"You are to tell me everything you feel, think and want", he tells you warningly. "You're my jester. My property. And if I want you to tell me something, you do it without fuss. That's how things work."

He reaches out his free hand to touch your hair, but you flinch your head away. Wrong move. Edmund pulls you closer by your arm until you're standing chest to chest.

"Stop resisting me", he whispers.

"This isn't … professional", you mumble with your head turned away. "Stop."

"You're quite a thing, aren't you? Do you really think you're in any position to boss me around?"

You try to pull your arm away, but Edmund doesn't let you. He can't let you go. If he doesn't feel your warmth under his fingertips he'll freak out. When you fainted in front of his throne, he thought you died. He has never been so scared in his entire life. The thought of being without you sends him into a void he's afraid to never get out of.

Your attempt to get away doesn't succeed. Edmund pulls you even closer and wraps his arms tightly around you. You can feel his palm press on your back. He hides his face into your shoulder and breathes in. At first, he can only smell his own scent from his coat, but then … there's a small tingle of your sacred scent. It clouds his head and he brings you even closer to chase it.

"Ouch, you're hurting me", you mumble. "Your majesty, please let go-"

"Edmund", he reminds you without lifting his face out of your shoulder.

"Edmund, please let go, you're crushing my ribs …"

Edmund loosens his embrace ever so slightly.

"You need to go inside now", he says.

He brings you inside, and back to your bedroom. Edmund tucks you in (rather forcefully) as you lie and watch.

"Now sleep", the king says. "In an instant."

You hold in your laughter. The king must be magical if he can fall asleep whenever he wants.

"What are you smiling at?" Edmund mutters. "What is so funny?"

"Nothing", you say.

His body language tenses. "What is so fucking funny? Tell me!"

"Fine. The way you want me to fall asleep in less than a minute amuses me."

He relaxes. "Oh, okay. Yeah, I suppose it could be taken … in a funny manner."

But you do fall asleep quickly, much to Edmund's delight. He sits down on a chair beside your bed … and waits for you to wake up again. You might not be able to crack jokes, sing or recite poetry, but your presence is all Edmund needs. Just being by your side is enough to make his day. Edmund lets his upper body rest on the bed right by your legs. Edmund shuts his eyes and decides to drift off to sleep. He can’t wait until his little puppet is well enough to perform for him again. But don’t you worry, he’s going to help you. He’s going to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re how he wants you to be.

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