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chibi-chanforever · 3 years

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𝙰 𝙳𝚎𝚋𝚝 𝚃𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚢

Pairings: Bokuto x Fem Reader x Akaashi

Warnings: Hardcore Smut and triggering themes please read at your own discretion. This is just a work of fiction and is not encouraged in anyway whatsoever.

themes: Non-con, Kidnapping, Drugging, Gunplay, Orgasm control/denial, Edging, Cuffs, , Creampie, Cunnilingus, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Blowjob, Threesome, Face Fucking, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Stalking and Yandere.

A/n: Heyaaa so basically this is in collaboration with the Church of Meian theme of May-mafia/Mayfia. Its my first collaboration and my first time posting smut, hope yall enjoy!! Please make sure to check out the amazing art and stories posted by the lovely people in our little church and give them some love, the link is at the end of the story!! Also special thanks to @kinsurou, @murdereddaydreams and @vanille--kiss for helping me and supporting me through everything. Love you soo muchoo my little ohana

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you glanced over to the stacks of paperwork you still had to go through. The daunting pileup that only increases every hour. You sighed again as you thumped your head onto the desk,frail arms just barely cushioning the blow. While staring blankly at your own feet, you spied the wastepaper basket sitting near, completely empty apart from a few used sugar sachets and soggy teabags.

Your eyes flit towards the pile of files again and you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if a few papers landed in the trash can, accidentally, of course. You contemplated for a few more seconds, before you shuddered as you imagined familiar cat-like eyes flit across your vision. You didn't want to really know what would happen if he found out about it, did you?

The minx-like golden eyes flashed once again in your mind as you recalled the fateful day. The day from which everything spiralled downhill.

If only, if only your family hadn't gotten into trouble with the Nekoma clan, things would be different. But no, they had to take a loan and fall into the mercy of Nekoma…

But at least you got off easy, you thought as you cradled your head. At least you and your family didn't suffer the same fate as the others. You were thankful to the head of the Nekoma for giving you the opportunity of paying off the debt through work, instead of the usual means. A shudder ran through your spine as you thought of the stories you've heard, of what happened to the other people who owed the clan money.

A heavy Bam shook you from your stupor as your head jerked up to stare at the new batch of files that had been banged onto the stack. You shook your head to clear your thoughts as you reached for the first file of the batch. It would be better to just get to it and finish it before the end of the day. That's when you noticed the little photograph that slipped out on the floor and you bent to pick it up.

There were four guys in the frame, two of them being the focus of the shot, with goofy big smiles and arms draped around each other, though there was a big red circle drawn around the one with owlish silver hair, the ink of the marker recent enough to smudge a little. The other two guys looked like they were not meant to be in the picture, but oddly that fact only made it so much better.

One with blonde highlights stood grimacing in the background while the other guy's face was barely visible, his body half turned and blurry as if someone had called out to him at the last moment when the picture was being taken.

Overall it looked like a fun bunch of friends but you wondered why there was a circle drawn around one of them. You flipped the picture, curiosity getting the best of you. Finding only a date written you turn the picture again, choosing to focus on the people in there.

“T-these are the next in-line heirs to the Nekoma clan” you whisper lowly to yourself. They were the ones who were supposed to take over in the coming years and were your current bosses. You couldn't wrap your head as to what this was doing in your file. You were given only the most basic work to handle as their secretary, numbers to jot down, business meetings to book and take note of the expenses and make detailed reports about meetings they attend. Maybe this slipped in by mistake somehow ??

You centered in on the person grimacing and the one with bed-hair; cogs turn in your brain as you wondered why these two individuals seemed so similar before something dawns on you and an audible gasp leaves your lips as the picture dropped onto your lap.

With trembling hands you shoved the picture back into the file and hide it at the bottom of the stack, maybe this was a file that was not supposed to be in your hands, fuck fuck fuck. Your eyes skim the room to watch out for anyone observing you. These guys didn't trust you enough to give you such things, so obviously it was misplaced and dumped into your paperwork by accident.

You suddenly noticed Lev jogging towards you and your whole body tensed as he approached. You pretended to work on the other files that were scattered around on your desk, typing random words and numbers into the excel sheet, your gaze was strongly focused on your screen yet everything was blurry. If Lev were to take a peek as to what you were doing at this moment, he would realise that what you were typing was utter bullshit.

“Ah, you remember the stack of files and papers that I just placed here?” He pointed his finger to the stack of papers that still lay stagnant there.

“Yes sir? What can I do for you t-today?” You kicked yourself under the desk for how weird you sounded in the moment, but lucky for you he was in a hurry so he didn't pay much mind to you.

“Can you give those back to me? I think there were five bunches of them, I think I gave you the wrong ones,” he rubbed the back of his head as his voice took an almost sheepish tone by the end.

Without saying anything in return you just nod stiffly before taking the first four files, slowly sneaking in the file that you shoved at the bottom, you softly banged them against the table as if to align them before giving them to him with a small smile.

“Hey Y/n?” Lev called out to you after he cleared his throat. You slowly turned your head towards him trying your best to act innocent as if you hadn't just seen a picture of the mafia head with his friends.

A light pink blush clouded his face as he clumsily took the files from you, bowing a little before he scurries off to give those files to whoever he was supposed to give them to in the first place.

You let out a deep exhale of relief, slumping further into the chair as he turns a corner and goes out of sight. Your phone suddenly buzzes and you yelp as your body jolts upright from the chair, you relax visibly when you notice that it was only a reminder that you had kept on your phone signalling the end of your shift.

Dropping it back onto the table with a clatter you stretched yourself in the chair, a smile gracing your lips as you collect your things to head home, deciding to stop at the grocery store to make a big dinner for the family today, just to relax your mind and console yourself that everything was alright, that you wouldn't be killed for seeing confidential information. It was just a picture, you thought, yeap just a picture that could possibly be a kill target, fuck did you get involved in a crime? You pinched your arm as you walked out of the office, shaking your head of all the negative thoughts.

The keys jingled as you struggled to slide the key into the lock with two grocery bags in hand, the atmosphere eerily silent as you entered the house, you called out for your mom and dad, followed by a soft “tadaima” only to receive no response in return.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You laughed as you remember that a few days ago your dad tried to make dinner and ended up breaking your mom's favourite ceramic pot while removing one of the pans. She has been so mad at the time that she took a vow to not cook until your dad got her a similar ceramic pot if not a better one.

You entered the living room to find it completely empty, and chill ran down your spine, where were your mom and dad? You walked toward the fridge and suddenly everything made sense when you saw the small sticky note with a haste scribble that said that your parents had gone out at the last minute for a makeup dinner, decorated with a small smiley in the end.

With a broad smile plastered on your lips you placed both the grocery bags on the counter, humming softly to yourself as you removed the items from within the bags. From the corner of your eye you suddenly notice a shadow cross and your body goes rigid. Your hand slowly inched forward before curling around the handle of a pan nearby when a tingling feeling rises up your spine, signalling someone’s approach.

In the room filled with soft rays of evening light you stand ominously still, breath bated as you tighten your clammy grasp, knuckles turning white, cold beads of sweat running down the side of your face. You backhand swung the pan the moment you see a slight shadow come up behind you, but your actions were stopped midway as you were pushed head first onto the counter, your hand with the pan being banged harshly against the cold surface of the marble, forcing you to let go of the pan. The person behind you used their body weight to keep you pinned to the counter as you trash around, trying your best to get hold of any object you can use to defend yourself.

Just as you get your right hand free from under the person’s weight, you feel a pinch on your shoulder and suddenly your body starts losing its strength,eyelids getting heavier and your vision turning blurry. As a last attempt you tried to scream out for help, but the moment you open your mouth a gloved hand clamps down on your lips and you try to trash around, only for him to lean his weight further on you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Right before you passed out, you faintly heard a phone buzzing and for a second you wondered if it's yours. You fought to stay awake as the man still kept you pinned against the counter, shuffling behind you before a small beep followed by a smooth soft voice reached your ears.

“ I have her Bokuto-san”

That was the last thing you witnessed before losing control over your senses and everything went dark.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You woke up to a cold concrete floor, a dull throb sitting in the back of your head as you grunted softly, your vision confiscated by a blindfold. The place where you were injected felt like it was on fire, limbs feeling heavy and…

You tried shifting your arms but all you could hear was the clang of metal against the concrete. You tried moving your feet but they were seized with cuffs which were attached to metal chains rooted firmly into the floor. You pushed yourself up onto your knees, only to be pulled back by the chains hooked on cuffs around your wrists, the rattling sound echoing loudly throughout the room along with a disgruntled sob. You held your breath in fear, hoping that no one was around to hear it. The room fell utterly silent as you tried your best to hear for any footsteps, only to be greeted by a soft hum of jazz, barely thrumming in through the walls.

You wanted to cry, scream, trash around, but there you laid, frozen in fear, trying your best to not make a single sound, making it seem like you were still unconscious. You were just delaying the inevitable, buying as much time as you could; you didn't have a single clue as to what you had done to be in such a situation, if it was about the loan, weren't you already paying it off by working? Or did they get tired of waiting?

But hadn’t you walked the perfect line with your job? you didn't have a single complaint from your superiors and your colleagues commended you on it, because it seems that they weren't compatible with just anyone and most of them didn't survive beyond the second week. So why were you here then? Was it the–

Your thoughts were cut short as you heard keys chime on the other side of the door and you froze in your spot, trying your best to pretend that you weren’t awake just a moment ago, tugging on your restraints.

You slowed down your breathing, evening it out just as the door opens, its hinges creaking loudly as you hear a chorus of footsteps pad through the room. But your little act of being asleep was immediately cut short as a bucket of ice cold water was thrown over your body making you jolt upright in shock, gasping and shuddering at the sudden overwhelming sensation.

“Looks like the little kitten is awake now! Let’s get this over with, shall we?” A deep voice boomed throughout the room, and you cower back a little, chains clanking along with you.

“Akaashi, remove her restraints but keep the cuffs on her hands.” The same authoritative voice commands and soon you feel a presence behind you, undoing your chains.

Your shivering body only trembled more as you felt fingers graze your calves and back, your now damp blindfold only serving to rile on your fears. You didn’t shift from your position when you felt the weight drop from your hands and legs, too scared to do anything. Your mind ran a million miles per minute, barging through your brain with various emotions and thoughts, but yet you feel blank as a chair scrapes loudly against the floor, placed in front of you.

A hand hooks under your arm, pulling you to sit upright and a whimper leaves your lips in fright. You wanted to plead– heck even beg for mercy, cry a litany of apologies and offer anything up in exchange for your life, but your lips didn’t move a single inch, even though you were practically screaming from within. You choke on the silence that suffocates the room before a gentle finger traced the back of your neck and you suppressed the urge to shudder at the feeling, soon finding your blindfold falling to the floor. You squinted, trying to move away from the sudden bright light before coming face to face with the last face you expected to see, the supposed kill target, his golden orbs more brighter and fierce than you remembered, excitement dancing along his lashes.

“And what do we have here?” He leaned forward as he rested his elbows on his knees, his palms joined in front of him and a cunning smile plastered on his face. His eyes raked your form before looking at the man behind you, nodding at him before you heard the softest “Yes Bokuto-san” flow past you and your eyes widen when realise where you heard it before; you recollect to the voice you barely managed to hear before you were rendered unconscious and painful tears started to collect in the corner of your eyes as you tried to swallow the lump on your throat.

The guy now known as Akaashi brought something to the guy in front of you before going back to his earlier position behind you. Faint light glinted against the object and when you realised what it was, tears flowed down freely your cheeks as soft hiccups wrecked through your body.

“Aww honey, don’t be scared. All you need to do is answer all our questions truthfully and I won’t have to use this. Whaddya say hmm?” Bokuto cooed as he slid the gun against your cheek, before placing the barrel under your cheek and tipping your head upwards. Afraid, you closed your eyes before nodding meekly.

“That’s a good girl. See we won’t be having any problems then.” He says with childish enthusiasm in his voice as if it were just another game for him. Akaashi stood silent, his eyes never leaving your form, watching the way your nipples pebbled under the cool air, your shirt now almost transparent as droplets of water slid down your shivering form. Bokuto feigned a cough and Akaashi flits his gaze to him, immediately registering that Bokuto noticed him staring at you, his signature playful smile getting a little bit wider, a hidden intent written behind that smile.

“It’s time to pat her down, Akaashi.” Bokuto stated before turning to you, “Don’t worry hun, it's just a mandatory procedure.” The moment those words were said you were lifted off the ground and placed onto Bokuto's lap and a sob fell from your lips as you tried to get away from his hold, but that only spurred him on to wrap his hand around your waist firmly.

“Shush now little kitten, don’t worry, the more you struggle, the harder it will be.” He pulled you closer to his heated body, your back hitting his chiseled chest as you straddled him, making your pencil skirt bunch up, your cuffed hands uncomfortable as they get smushed at an odd angle between your back and his chest. You try to move forward because the burn was too much, but the hand on your waist only tightened, keeping you put, your legs kept secure behind his ankles.

“So tell me kitten what’s your name hmm??” He asked you while Akaashi kneeled down in front of you and started patting down your shoulders before his fingers found your buttons, relieving them from its reserves with ease; you looked down at Akaashi with unbelieving eyes, Bokuto’s question falling on deaf ears and that was your biggest mistake. His hand on your waist slid up to roughly grab one of your tits, pinching the nipple harshly and making you cry out in pure agony.

“I asked you something pet, I don’t like to repeat myself twice. Geddit? Now I'm going to ask you once more and that will be your last time. You hear me?” His voice was viciously low and threatening. You only nodded back in response, the sting still fresh on your skin. “ Use your words kitten” He commanded, and you choked out a broken “Y-yes.”

“Good girl. Now tell me what your name is, hmm?”

“ It’s Y-Y/n,” you managed to stutter out, chest heaving.

“That's a lovely name for a kitten! Well now, what is a pretty little thing like you doing in the Nekoma estate, hmm? What is your relationship with Kuroo and Kenma? Are you their fucktoy? Wouldn’t doubt if you were, you seem quite fun to play with” he whispered the last part as he grabbed your face, turning your head away from him. He brushed his nose against your neck, taking in your scent as hot puffs of air collided against your skin.

“I’m j-just a secretary, I have a debt to clear with them, t-that’s all. I’m not their- their- '' heat rushes to your cheeks as embarrassment and anger flowed through you as it dawned upon you what he really meant and you tried to pull away from Bokuto. “I don’t do anything of that sort! I don’t have that kind of relationship with them. I just arrange meetings and appointments, and other basic stuff, that’s it! Now let me go!” You spit the words out, anger boiling through your veins, but it soon turned ice cold with the next question, and you realise you fucked up… Big time.

“ Then you must know about the upcoming business meetings of Nekoma, right? That means you would know the location of Kuroo and Kenma? ” And the room once again went silent. In your fit of anger and defiance you didn’t even realise that Akaashi had slid your shirt up over your shoulders, sliding them down up to your cuff covered wrists and was now drawing your skirt down. You tried to wiggle your hips to hinder his movements but it only serves to his advantage as it slides down easier.

“Please l-let me go, I-I don’t know anything please!” You begged, voice turning desperate, you couldn’t give out information about the Nekoma clan or they would have your head for it. What about your family–

“You’re a smart little one aren’t you, you know they will hunt you down if you give me their information. But if you decide to tell me, I give you my word that no harm will come to you or your family, furthermore your debt will be repaid. And if you don’t, I could put a bullet through your head right now.” Bokuto said with a playful lift to his voice, bringing the gun up to your temple.

“ I really don’t remember! Please, I can’t recall w-with who it was.. Please don’t shoot!!” You sobbed out, mind going blank when the gun is placed to your temple, fear overwhelming your senses.

“Aw it was good knowing ya kitten, you would’ve made such a good pet.” He cocks the gun with a loud click finger at ease on the trigger while he places soft kisses on your neck, softly whispering against your skin, “ Sayonara–”

“KARASUNO!!” You screamed out the first thing you remembered right before he could pull the trigger. “It’s Karasuno, sometime in the middle of next week, in the Miyagi Prefecture.. That’s about all I know. Please, please let me go now, I’m begging you!!!”

He chuckled darkly right next to your ear and goosebumps rose all over your skin with adrenaline. You closed your tear filled eyes, sobs shaking through you. You wanted this to be a nightmare, a dream from which you would wake up any moment, but the cuffs digging into your wrists and warm hands searing into your skin said otherwise.

“Mmm you definitely deserve a reward for that, don’t you?” He licks a long stripe from the base of your neck to your ear before whispering those words. You shake your head violently, not wanting to spend another waking minute here but he completely ignores your signs of protest. Bokuto’s hand travels down your body till his hand reached your panties to cup your pussy, groaning when he hears a small whimper leave your lips at the contact. He tugged on your panties, a hiss leaving his lips when he noticed how sensitive your body was.

“Such a pretty kitten, Akaashi, why don't you reward her for me, yeah?” Bokuto said as he shifted your panties to the side, dipping his fingers into your folds before prying them apart, giving Akaashi a good view of your cunt. Akaashi took his lower lip between his teeth before swiping his tongue across it as he indulged himself with the sight of your glistening pussy.

“Go on ‘Kaashi, don’t you want a taste?” Bokuto questioned, his fingers circling your clit, before travelling to your entrance, he dipping two fingers inside before removing them and spreading them, your juices smeared all over them and he popped his fingers to his mouth, a low growl arising from his chest made you bite on your lip harshly. “Of course I do Bokuto-san.” And that was all Akaashi said before he hooked your legs over his shoulder and dived into your pussy, flattening his tongue against your entrance before dragging it upwards towards your clit, rubbing his tongue against it before sucking on it.

You moaned loudly as Akaashi kept slurping up the juices dripping from your hole, making sure to not let a single drop go by, while Bokuto unhooked your bra, sliding them up so he could see your perky little nipples just begging for attention. He uncocks the gun and hooks it on his waistband, after which his hands find purchase of your soft mounds, pressing each nipple inside with his forefinger before pinching them and rolling them between his fingers. He gave your nipples a few rough tugs just to hear your sweet voice more.

You’re too overwhelmed to do anything but mewl as Akaashi detached himself from your pussy, fingers tugging down your panties and pocketing the soaked fabric. He used his thumb to rub your nub while his tongue prods your entrance and you gasp, taking a shaky breath in. When he rubbed a certain spot at the entrance you threw your head back and Bokuto immediately wrapped his fingers around your throat, his grip firm as his lips hastily crashed onto yours, drinking in all your moans and whimpers. He continued to kiss you, your moaning making it easy to plunge his tongue into your mouth, the kiss so heated that it brought you right on the edge of tipping over.

Your legs shook uncontrollably, being just one flick away from falling over the edge when Akaashi pulled back and you breathed heavily, not wanting to show them that this affected you much, while you mourned the loss of such a sweet release. His face is smeared with your juices and he licks his lips as he uses the back of his sleeve to wipe off the excess. The corner of his mouth lifted as he looked at Bokuto and nodded at him as you whined at your stolen high. Bokuto broke the kiss and smiled at Akaashi wide enough to have the tops of his incisors seen, the feral intent in his eyes reminding you of the dangerous position you were in.

Your eyes widened when Akaashi abruptly stood up and slid his hands under your butt, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he picked you up from Bokuto’s lap and you yelped. Akaashi’s eyes were fixated on you the entire time you were in his arms, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips continuously while you squirm.

“P-please no, I-I don’t want to go any further please” you told Akaashi, eyes big and pleading, filled with fresh tears.

“It’s okay Doll, don’t worry, we won’t hurt you until you disobey. So be a good little pet for us alright?” He whispered against your ear as he placed you down on your wobbly legs with your back against the mahogany table behind. He cupped your face gently, thumb swiping across your trembling lips as he looked at you with pure adoration. If it were any other situation you might’ve even considered going out with this beautiful man; but here you were, held against your will, your body being used as per their whims and wishes and you couldn’t do a single thing about it, it made your stomach twist with hate and disgust knowing how weak you were.

Akaashi leaned in, softly pressing his lips against yours into the most sweetest and gentle kiss you’ve ever had. You were so lost in it that your mouth unconsciously granted him access when he licked your bottom lip, you immediately tasted yourself on his tongue. The way he explored your mouth made you moan, your pussy clenching over a single kiss, only coming to your senses when his fingers fiddled with the straps of your bra, unclasping them and you bit his lip in defiance when he pulled your bra off your body, the taste of iron now pooling on your tongue.

Akaashi pulled back when you bite his lip, raising an amused eyebrow at you. He couldn’t believe that you still had thought that you could say no to them, it was cute to him; luckily it wasn’t Bokuto-san or she would've gotten a punishment by now– Akaashi thought as blood dripped from his lip onto his chin.

“This kitten is still using her claws I see, quite feisty~” Bokuto chimed as he came behind Akaashi, watching the entire scene from the corner. You looked at both of them in shock when Bokuto turned Akaashi’s head and pulled him into a kiss, licking up the blood that was on his lips and groaning when he still tasted the remnants of your sweet juices on Akaashi’s tongue. Bokuto broke the kiss, his lips sliding down to Akaashi’s neck and chuckling against his skin as he remembers the day Akaashi first saw you.

Akaashi was so mesmerised by you, couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you were and how he wanted you so badly. Akaashi mentioned you so many times that it had started to get on his nerves, sometimes he even moaned out your name when he was asleep. Bokuto finally snapped when Akaashi choked out your name as he came all over Bokuto’s hands pumping his shaft. And when Akaashi found out that you worked for Nekoma it was the perfect excuse he needed to bring you in and play with you, see what was so special about you. Akaashi insisted on getting you personally, not wanting anyone else to get their hands on you; he was possessive like that– Bokuto was brought out of his fazed stupor with your cute little mewls filling the room.

Akaashi had started marking up your neck, slurping bruises on your skin while his fingers played with your nipples.

“Kitten, why don't you put on a little show for us? Play with that pretty little cunt of yours, show us how you like it and maybe I’ll think about letting you go?” Bokuto said as his fingers rub circles on your hips soothingly. The prospect of getting out of here had you ready to do anything and you eagerly nod your head at the offer, maybe once they freed your hands you could try to escape too. But Bokuto seemed to know what you're thinking, because he turned you around and shoved your head onto the table, your toes barely grazing the floor as you struggled under the weight of his body on yours. He removes the gun from his waistband and places it on your neck.

“Don’t even think about doing anything funny, cause there won’t be a second chance~” He singed as his hips grinded into yours, his erection pressed against your ass and you gasped as you felt how big he was even through his pants. He lifted himself off you once you yelp out a “Yes” he slowly slid the gun down your back, smacking the barrel against your ass before going lower and rubbing the cool metal against your folds. You dug your nails into your palm to ground yourself as he continued to rub against your clit, teasing the little nub till the barrel was covered in your juices.

“Get on the table kitten, I want a perfect view of your pussy.” Bokuto stopped his ministrations as you struggle to get on the table, when you took too much time for his liking he shoved your other leg on top and smacked your ass, making you scream out, he rubbed his fingers over the red print that is visible as he growled out a ‘hurry up’. Akaashi on the other hand started uncuffing your hands, sliding the shirt that was stuck above your wrist along with your cuffs.

You were already on the verge of cumming earlier, so doing that once again wouldn’t take that long. You reached down your trembling fingers and started slowly circling your clit, you moaned as you started going faster, rubbing yourself just the way you had done dozens of times before.

“Don’t be shy, Doll. Stuff a few fingers up that sweet hole” Akaashi said as he unzips his pants, pumping his cock in his hand at the lewd sight of you playing with yourself. He had imagined you like this whenever he stroked his cock alone, but he didn’t know it would be so fucking hot.

“You heard him, use those fingers to stuff your hole, kitten.” Bokuto chimed in with Akaashi. You reached down further and slowly start to slide two fingers in and out of your pussy, moaning as you started feeling good, the base of your palm bumping against your clit. You started going faster, feeling yourself reach your high once again, your moans turned higher and higher in pitch. You were just about ot cum when Bokuto slaped your hand away from yourself, making you whine loudly when you were denied another high. It was starting to feel like torture, your thoughts were getting fuzzy and all you could think was how badly you wanted to cum.

“Doll if you wanna cum then you just gotta ask” Akaashi said softly as he rubs his fingers over your sensitive folds, making you buck into his hand. You almost didn’t care about anything anymore, the only thing on your mind was the need to cum, but there was a little shard of dignity that was left in you and it made you bite your tongue. Your anger and frustration of not getting to cum makes you a little bold.

“F-fuck y-you” you panted out with as much venom in your words as you could muster. Bokuto shook his head as a chuckle wrecked through his chest once again. You were certainly a fun thing to tease and play with, the way you refused to give up only served to pique his interest further. “Oh I certainly plan to kitten, I’m going fuck this pretty little cunt all night. Make you a pliant mess on my cock”

You heard the clink of a buckle being opened, noticing the gun placed on the table not too far from your reach and with your hands free, you tried to push yourself off the surface only to be held down by your neck. “Oh no you don’t Doll, I’ve waited an eternity to feel those lips on me” Akaashi remarked as he unbuttoned his pants with his free hand and slid down the zipper. “Now pull my cock out, pretty girl.” He slowly released the pressure on your neck, Bokuto smacked your ass when you didn't comply, his heavy hand stinging enough to have you immediately reach out, tugging on the waistband of the his pants.

Akaashi bit his lips as your fingers touched his cock, his hard member twitching at the contact. Not being able to control himself any further, Akaashi swooped down and pulled you in for a kiss while simultaneously Bokuto aligned his tip with your entrance. Akaashi pulled back, standing straight so that his cock was mere inches from your face. He removed his shirt before he gathered your hair in his hand and pulled you towards his member. You shook your head no, using one to keep you up while the other pushed on his waist.

But your attempts were futile as Bokuto slammed himself into you with one swift movement, making you scream at the stretch and Akaashi used that as an opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth, groaning when you gagged and sputtered on his length, still attempting to cry out. The sounds from your warm mouth made him shudder in pleasure.

Bokuto starrted slamming into you immediately, fucking into you with feral intensity and using you as his personal pocket pussy, each thrust pushed your mouth further on Akaashi’s cock.

“Nghh you're so fucking tight kitten, squeezing my dick so fucking good” Bokuto grunted out before placing both his hands on your hips, his fingers holding you tight enough to leave dark bruises and he used that at leverage to fuck into you faster, His fat cock stirring up your insides and hitting spots deep inside you that you didn't know you had, making you moan continuously on Akaashi's cock. Said man slowly started to buck his hips into your mouth, falling into a rhythm with Bokuto, once in a while pushing his cock deep enough that the tip hit the back of your throat.

The room echoed with muffled moans and low growls, squelching sounds filling the room. Both men fastened their pace, pulling and pushing back and forth, singing praises and defiling your body at the same time.

“Oh fuck d-Doll haa.. your mouth feels so good, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!! And I want you to drink every drop of it” Akaashi keened as he kept moving his hips, he wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing firmly till he felt the outline of his cock making you lightheaded. Akaashi watched as you rolled your watery eyes back in pleasure, choking and gagging on his cock, feeling his cock on your throat was the last strand and it pushed him off the edge and he gave a deep thrust cumming directly inside your throat, fingers still clutching your neck. He pulled out halfway, so that his cum spilled all over your tongue; shudders wrecked through his body as his thighs flexed till it burned, he pinched your nose as pulled out of you and clamped his other hand over your mouth so you had no other choice but to swallow, and once done he pulled you up as he climbed on the table as well.

You hung on Akaashi, hands hooked around his shoulders as Bokuto still kept pummelling into you, thighs slapping loudly against your ass. Akaashi kept kissing you, not leaving your body alone even for a second, biting and sucking on your lips or roaming along the length of your neck. His hands roamed all over your body before sliding between your folds, lithe fingers barely grazing your nub before forming a 'V' where Bokuto's cock enters you, spreading your folds. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, body shivering, you would be laying flat against wood, had it not been for Akaashi holding you up, one hand wrapped around your waist.

Your mind was going crazy, you were so close to cumming but you just needed that little push, that little rub and nudge on your clit. The fact that Akaashi's fingers kept lightly brushing against it didn't help any further, you wanted to just cum, a dam waiting to be broken and you couldn't take it anymore.

“Please, please mmnnn j-just let me cum!!" You cried out, transgressing in the moment of pleasure.

“All you had to do was ask Doll” Akaashi murmured against your skin as his fingers slid up to your clit, rubbing refined, delicate circles around your sensitive nub and that was the final push that made you cum all around Bokuto's cock, pussy fluttering around his shaft, squeezing him tightly as an orgasm wrecked through you, compelling your body into a convulsing mess as a prayer of moans leave your lips, your toes curling till your feet hurt.

Your pussy clenched tightly around his shaft triggered Bokuto’s orgasm as well, his hips slowing their pace as he pumped deep strokes into your hole. And with a loud shivering groan against your ear, your pussy was filled with hot spurts of cum as he leaned his weight slightly on your limp body, his skin hot and sweaty against your own.

He placed a soft kiss on your back before pulling out of you, walking away to get something. During the time he’s gone Akaashi gently stroked your hair, while holding you in his warm embrace until Bokuto returned with something in his hand. Bokuto reached out and clicked it into place with alige fingers before smiling devilishly. You looked down, weak hand unconsciously reaching up to touch the item and you gasped, realizing it's a collar, and yanked on it to try and remove it. Hastily you reached behind hoping to find a buckle to release it, but instead you found a lock and turned towards Bokuto.

“D-didn’t you s-say you were going to let me go?” You asked, voice trembling with trepidation. While you were looking away Akaashi linked a leash to your collar, wrapped the excess length around his knuckles and handed it over to Bokuto. He yanked on your collar as he did so, forcefully bringing you closer as he offered Bokuto your leash with a heated kiss before Bokuto pulled away to look at you with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Oh I said I’ll think about it, and I think I’m not done with you just yet kitten~”

Heyya thank you soo much for reading!! As promised the collabs links are down below, please show some love and support!!

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Also requests are open!!

©️Copyrights of chibi-chanforever. 4/6/2021.

#tw.noncon #tw.kidnapping #tw.choking #tw.gunplay #tw.drugging #mafia #bokuto smut #akaashi smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #smut #yandere haikyuu #yandere #yandere akaashi #collab #church of meian

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed!

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face. The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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chiwhorei · 4 years

Text

pollock

paring: art major!k. tsukishima x fem!reader

genre: a dash of angst, hurt/comfort, smut, 18+ minors dni

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, impregnating kink, soft and kinda hard dom!tsukki, sub!reader

a/n: ahhhhh!! this is my first longer fic to come out in a while and i am ~so~ excited to share this with everyone. i have been keening over the idea of art!major tsukki and i hope you all like him as much as i do! this is piece is brought to you by the hqhq monthly server collab, so please go check out everyone’s amazing writing, the masterlist can be found here!

hymn: validation by herrick & hooley, cherry hill by russ

“Your work is always technically very well executed, Tsukishima-san.” The round, bald-headed man shuffles through the photos on his desk, pieces of Tsukishima Kei’s senior project that he’s tried to fit together before his final exhibit only four months away.

“But,” the dreaded word has Tsukki restraining himself from a long eye roll, “It seems like you’re stuck. You still need one more piece for the show. What inspires you?”

You hear a resounding slam of the front door swinging open and meeting the frame again, followed by a shuffle of feet towards where you’re standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment. Tsukki’s mouth is set in a flat line, expression softening only slightly when he sees you leaning against the counter. You greet him with a warm, but cautious smile. It had been a horribly long day, grating on every thread of patience Tsukishima has. The bubbling of anxiety and frustration mixing into a sour look on his handsome face. You hate seeing your boyfriend so defeatus, much preferring the sardonic, confident air he usually holds. Both of your final years of college have been exceptionally taxing, Tsukki’s final art project being the most stressing of all. It seems like as days propel forward, closer to his due date, the less assured he is of his talents, his passions. It’s heartbreaking to see someone so brilliant struggle through a million half fleshed-out ideas and crumbled up leaves of paper.

You pull one of his hands to you, examining the stains of paint and ink across his long digits and kissing each finger softly. You wish you could get inside that big head of his and help in some way.

“Did you have a hard day at the studio, Kei?” You wrap your arms around his neck and search his eyes. He’s not always the best at talking to you, especially when he’s upset, so you don’t expect him to give you an answer. Instead, you rub his shoulders, trying to coax the tension out. He sighs deeply at the contact, hands moving to rest at the plush of your hips and gripping tightly when you work at a particularly sore spot.

“You’re too good to me, princess. Thank you” He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, and you nuzzle into him. You don’t have the answers to his current road block, you don’t pretend to. But maybe, you think, you can offer him a more carnal outlet.

“Of course, Daddy.” The name hangs in the air for a moment, any response hitching in his throat. The title is familiar after years of being together, always being both comforting and electrifying. Since the title slipped out years ago for the first time, your boyfriend feels his cool demeanor snapping like a glow stick, leaving hot lust in its wake upon it rolling past your lips.

He pulls you closed to him by your ass, inhaling sharply at the contact on his jeans. All you have on is one of Tsukki’s loose, paint stained sweaters and a thin pair of cotton panties. You brush one of your bare thighs against his crotch, and he feels the stresses of his day falling out of frame. Your body is always a buoy to pull him back from the drowning of self doubt. A perfect slice of heaven he became addicted to from the moment he spotted you across the dusty stacks.

“What inspires you?”

The question rings in his head again, but with a new perspective. Tsukki hears pieces clicking together with your lustrous body pressed against him.

“Babygirl, I think I have an idea. But I’m going to need your help.” His hands move to cup your cheeks, scanning over your features and finding a devious glint behind your soft, e/c eyes. Tsukki trails a thumb over your bottom lip lightly, admiring how you lean into the contact. Always so eager to please him, your temperament goes straight to his cock every time.

“Anything for you, daddy.” You press your forehead against his, waiting patiently for his next move. There’s astounding beauty in the glossy, temperate look in your eyes that he wants to, has to, to freeze in time.

“I have a few things to set up. Come to the office when I call you,” Tsukki pushes a stray hair from your face with a fond smile before walking away, he stops for a moment to look at you over his shoulder, “Naked.”

Your mind races as to what exactly he wants to do with you tonight as you busy yourself with peeling off your clothing. There is very little that you and your boyfriend haven’t tried at least once, but the tone in his voice has left you reeling at the possibilities.

Your eyes catch your reflection in the hallway mirror, naked body completely exposed to your own scrutinizing stare. Had it been the stress causing the image in front of you to be so unsavory? Every plane of skin promoting a different insecurity. A blasted thing a hallway mirror becomes when you’ve never truly loved what stares back. You fuss with your hair in a feeble attempt to make yourself more presentable. The question of how Tsukishima sees you always rattling around in the back of your head, especially standing completely naked and waiting in your own insecurities.

“Princess, come here.” You are pulled from your deprecating thoughts at the sound of Tsukki’s warm voice. You walk into his office, and notice he’s changed into just a pair of grey joggers. The sight of the low hanging garment making you salivate so much you almost miss your surroundings. He’s struck some kind of inspiration, you can see it in his eyes as he adjusts his easel and props up a large, blank canvas. You fiddle with your fingers as he looks up at you.

“Jackson Pollock.” You meet your boyfriend’s eyes, confused by his seemingly random statement as he parses out different colored paints into small bowls. Red, blue, green, yellow. “He poured paint on a flat surface so that he could view every angle color could create, every curve.” Tsukki muses, dipping two fingers into the bright yellow hue sitting next to him, bringing them towards his face with contemplation. “But I think this sweet little body of yours will prove a much better canvas.”

His eyes provide no sign of bluffing, but you stare back at him dumbly. Sure, he’s used you as a muse before. Studying your hands or the way your hair falls in the sketches you see hanging up by his desk behind you. You love when he wants to use your body for inspiration, but is he really going to cover you in paint?

“We both know you don’t mind getting a little messy,” He trails his wet pointer finger across your collarbone, following a line towards your chin. He tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Open your mouth.”

Your bottom lip parts from the top, eyes following the line of spit that drops from his mouth to your tongue with a resounding put.

You swallow thickly, the feeling of his control already bending your will to meet him at every pass.

“I want you to look nice and fucked out for me, baby. I want to show my stuffy professors where my inspiration comes from. I’m going to capture how sweet and submissive my little princess is and then everyone will get to see what I get to enjoy every night.” His unmarred hand moves towards your already disastrously wet pussy. You’re drooling at even the most slight contact, bucking into his hand in a plea for more. His words, complimentative but unmistakingly domineering, have your head becoming fuzzy.

“Daddy, please. Please touch me.” Your whines are music to his ears.

“Oh princess, I plan on it. But I need you to be good for me. You don’t want to mess up all my hard work do you?” His voice is steady, authoritative but still soft around the edges in a way that makes you feel gooey.

Tsukki leads you to the stool sitting in the middle of the room, and you perch on it with his hands keeping you steady. You are his muse and medium, his subject and his canvas to use in any way desired.

Smudges of color brandish every inch of your skin, each stroke is a reminder of where your lovers hands have been. Blue and pink splatter against your stomach, a vibrant red outline on each curve of your breast and purple fingerprints against your pert nipples. Your legs wear a trail of hand prints towards your glistening cunt, wanton cunt. Each marring of paint sits beside paths of hot, opened mouth kisses.

All that is keeping you balanced on the squeaky wooden stool is Tsukishima’s strong arms holding you captive in place. Your legs had been thrown over his shoulders after painting across your upper thighs in a sea of greys and greens. As soon as Tsukki’s eyes met with your bare cunt, his mouth was quick to follow.

He’s a mess of paint now too, muscular chest and arms covered in pigment and face covered in you. He’s always insatiable, drinking you in like it’s the only source of sustenance left in the world. He knows how to work you, how to propel you towards orgasm in a way no one else has ever been able to do. Worshiping your body with langued strokes of his tongue. You let out a pitchy moan in response to his mouth, pushing you towards an end you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I bet you want to cum don’t you, baby? I can feel it. Such an eager little thing.” Tsukishima ghosts his lips across your hot cunt, blowing at your clit to make you yelp. You’re so close, too close. Dangling above bliss but not tipping over, knowing you need permission. You’ve been so good for him, he has to give you your release.

“Please, daddy. Please let me cum.” Tears wet your cheeks as you beg, holding onto Tsukki’s blond locks like an anchor. All you need is his approval, but instead of persimmon you are met with a bawdy laugh.

You really should have known he wasn’t going to let you go that easy.

Tsukki stands up, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. You’re wrecked in every way. Hair loose and disheveled, body dipped in a thin layer of sweat and thick splotches of paint. The look on your face is equal parts pathetic and fervent.

“I need you to sit pretty for daddy, I want to capture how desperately beautiful you look right now.” His words make you preen, but it’s a compliment and a warning at the same time. He wants to capture the look of sweet pain of denied orgasm to display at an art exhibit of both peers and his seniors. Sadistic in Tsukishima’s own unique way.

You should have known better, Tsukki’s patience has always been astounding. You know all he wants to do is bury himself in you, but he wants even more to make you suffer under his stare. There’s plenty of times he unleashes his frustration out on you physically, ripening your ass cheeks in bright red handprints and ensuring you can’t walk in the morning. But it’s these moments that can be even harsher, when he regards you with steely eyes and a aloof threat, that make your nerves catch fire more than a spanking ever could.

He sits down to start sketching on the large canvas in front of him, pinning you to your position with a practiced glare and playing on your desire to please him.

You sit as still as you can, listening to the scratch of pencil on vinyl in an attempt to keep calm. Your cunt is still twitching, puffy and slick propped uncomfortably atop the wooden stool. Tsukki hums along to the rhythmic music coming from his phone speaker, a playlist you know to be the one that helps him concentrate on his work. His brow furrows in concentration, pushing his glasses back in place as he stares at you again. His eyes are calculating and coldly observant, but his mouth quirks up in a surprising smile.

“My perfect baby. So stunning in every way.” His thoughts start tumbling out without his usual sarcastic filter.

“I have never wanted something more in my life than you. All of you, all the time.” A genuine regard for you in the lilt of his voice clamps down on your chest. He’s called you pretty, told you he loved you a million times before, but there’s a calm resonance in his words as his hands move across the white caves in front of him that catches in your throat. With the pressure of graduation looming over the two of you these past few months, romantics have been pushed to the side to make room for laser focus on finishing your degrees.

Your eyes well at his confessional, struck by the vulnerability so unfamiliar to him. You missed this side of your boyfriend, unlocking it incrementally through the years and finding it virtually non-existent recently. He sees your shoulders trembling slightly and tears his eyes up to your form.

“I told you to stay still.” His voice comes out harsh, but melts away when he sees fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

“Y/n, are you okay? Did I upset you?” He moves to console you, the action causing another round of sobs, your body on edge in every way after both the teasing and his impromptu affirmation. Your response surprises yourself just as much as Tsukki, not realising how starved of his affection you had become.

“I’m sorry daddy, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just- do you mean all that?” You lower your head in embarrassment, and Tsukishima’s heart breaks at the realization. Had he unintentionally disregarded you? Had he been ignoring you?

“Fuck baby, of course I mean it. I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.” He pulls you up into his strong hold, he lets you cry into his shoulder until your wracking sobs simmer to sniffles. He holds you tightly in an attempt at atonement. He has to do something to show you how he feels now that he knows his words have failed him. His actions have to speak in his place.

Tsukishima pulls you away slightly to meet his gaze before colliding his lips against yours. He traces his tongue in sonnets across your mouth, tasting the lingering essence of your arousal and the salt of your tears. He writes prose in the breathy gasps as you part for air, chests heaving. He has to show you what his words won’t always allow him to.

It’s bodies tangled together, covered in the colors of a man trying his best to show you how much he loves you. You had fallen to the floor at the behest of passion, Tsukki’s body covering yours, lips kissing any extension of your skin, uncaring of the paint covering both of your writhing frames.

You paw at his sweatpants as if they are the most offensive thing you’ve ever scene, Tsukki’s cock springs out to slap against the hard muscle of his abdomen. You don’t waste any time lining him up to your dripping folds, you’ve waited long enough. Hips crashing together like a fever dream, you’re wrapped in each other as if there’s nothing else in this world outside of a set of paints and four walls of a dimly lit apartment. The sun could be hurling towards the sidewalk just outside and Tsukishima, usually observant to a fault, would have no idea. All he knows is your body beneath him, clawing desperately at his back with every deep thrust, and the love poem he has written on your body. Reds across your breasts and brandishing your thighs. Greens and yellows across your neck, up your arms. Messy, sticky, covering the thin sheet Tsukki laid out to spare the hardwood.

Your panting, crying out for your daddy and consumed in the salty taste of love and lust crashing together like waves. His cock is heavy inside you, filling you up so completely. Tsukki rowes on, not daring to stop now, not with the resounding drumming of two hearts beat so perfectly together and the feeling of your clenching, velveteen walls hugging him like he’s coming home.

“I am so desperately in love with you. I want you like this, with me, forever.” He’s delirious, drunk on your body. Primal, as he stares down at you, colorful and completely conquered. He sees everything in your eyes, every baser desire, every hope for the future.

“I want to fill you up with my cum, princess. You are mine in every way. God, I want to see you swollen with my baby. Right here.” He presses against your belly, feeling his cock moving inside you from the splotches of pick and blue.

His confessional spurs you on, the emotions overwhelming. Feeling so loved, so needy, wanting everything the blonde above you is willing to give.

“Ah, Daddy! Please, please fill me up. I wa-want you to put a baby in me, I need it.” Your clenching tightly, each pump of Tsukishima’s cock better than the last.

“You are such a good girl baby, always saying exactly what I need to hear. Cum for me, princess, let me see how good I make you feel.”

His warrant is all you’ve needed this whole time, snapping to hours of tension with a sharp cry. You’re thrown into the pooling, honey-sweet feeling of release. Sinking every inch of your aching body into a blissed haze. Your walls spasm violently, tightening around him like a vice. He meets your hips with his own, knocking hip bones together like pool balls and holding himself in your heat as you milk his throbbing cock, stealing every drop of hot, while cum he has to offer.

He crumbles to the floor beside you, pulling you to his chest. Lying in a mess of paint and sweat and staggered breathing. Through the fog still resounding in your head, you hear Tsukki laughing lightly, “How’s that for inspiration?”

-Four Months Later-

You shift on your toes in anticipation, waiting for Tsukishima to release the hold he has around your eyes. You hear the bustle of people around you, the laughter and tinkling of glasses clinking together filling your ears. He kisses your temple before letting go, and you are met with a new reflection of yourself hung proudly on display. All of the places you see blemishes are drawn with vibrant purposeful color. Every curve of your form mapped out with the care only a lover could administer. Your naked form exhibited for hundreds of critiquing eyes, but there’s not a bone in your body that could feel embarrassed in this moment. As reflection so beautiful it’s unbelievable is staring back at you.

“Is this really how you see me, Kei?” You turn around to meet his eyes, his stare holds the love of epics. He would write you novels if he could, but this picture is worth a thousand words.

“Of course it is, baby,” He brings a hand to thumb at your slightly swelling belly.

“Of course it is.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hqhq server collab #haikyuu hq #hq tsukishima

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m-y-fandoms · 3 years

Text

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 3

This fic assumes Mishima isn't a confidant, the reader is the Moon arcana instead, keep this in mind.

word count: 6.3k words, SFW

- Admin Myah

Over the next few weeks spent with Akira, or… Joker, as he seemed to be called when the situation demanded, you learned that the world was much more complicated than you ever could’ve dreamed. Sure, you praised yourself for being a little less of a sheep than the idle-brained teenagers of your everyday life who thought of nothing but gossip, status and appearances, but now you felt insignificant, like you’d been asleep all this time until Akira, Ryuji and Ann had placed six symbolic hands upon you, and shaken you to life. Layers upon layers, he explained the subconscious world that lay beneath, which ached to be revealed, only to those who’d open their eyes.

＊

It’d been a rush, your first time in the Metaverse. You’d insisted to Akira, though he protested, that you wanted to see what all of this near-unbelievable nonsense he was explaining was all about. He’d never taken non-Phantom-Thief confidants into the Metaverse, and he was hesitant, silent for a long while before deciding that your help was worth the risk. After all, he’d already told you everything, and they had no way to erase memories… yet.

You remember Akira taking your hand, the skin on skin contact. Up on the school’s rooftop with Ryuji and Ann flanking you, Akira had told you it was a precaution, to make absolutely sure that you transferred into the Metaverse with them and landed in the same place. You had to be touching one of them, for your safety, and he’d eagerly volunteered. With the cat in his bag seeming to smile at you over his shoulder (an occurrence which made you feel like you were going looney already) he tapped an app icon on his phone, some scary red little square, and with that, your body lifted, began to float, or so it seemed. Red completely consumed your vision, red and black ink like those blobs you’d seen the Phantom Thieves appear from when this all began. You gasped, stumbling back a step as if you could escape the all-encompassing wave, and Akira, sensing your trepidation, squeezed your hand slightly.

The rooftop faded, and you felt like a character from a videogame fast-traveling to their destination. Almost as fast as it appeared, the trippy red and black sludge subsided, and before you sat a dark, dreary scenery. A castle, one that obviously belonged to a malevolent ruler sat amongst a purple sky and the smell of despair.

“What the…” your mouth hung agape for a second, taking in your surroundings before letting your eyes trail down to where your hand met Akira’s. Assuming you no longer needed it, you shook him off gently, not even sparing a glance his way, and his eyebrows creased just the smallest amount, not that you noticed. You were too focused on the giant cat before you, knee-height, with a round, bulbous head. “Is… are you-?!”

“Much more handsome and dashing in this form, wouldn’t you say?” Morgana - now confirmed - gave you a sly look as you leaned down to his height to run your hand along the fur on his head.

“Wow… so cute!” You cooed.

“Hey! Stop it! Stop it! I am a warrior and to be taken seriously!” he whined, shooing away your hands, his fur on end.

“Ha!” a sharp laugh rang out behind you, and you turned to see that Morgana wasn’t the only one who’d made a drastic change. Ryuji was now clad in some kind of leather pirate’s uniform, his demeanor far more fearsome and a skull mask across his face. Ann donned a skin-tight body suit and cat mask, and Akira wore a lavish long coat, red gloves, and a masquerade mask. He looked like a magician from some fairytale, or perhaps the leader of some band of Robin-Hood-inspired band of vigilantes… although you supposed that was kind of what he was now… either way, he would make amazing source material for your main protagonist. Such swagger, a commanding presence… he didn’t seem to exactly be the same Akira you’d met earlier.

＊

The trip to the Metaverse was almost completely uneventful… almost. Just once, when you’d begged Akira to press forward and show you the inside of the castle, something called a “shadow” attacked, and you got to see the band of thieves in action. It was shocking, leaving chills running down your spine. Here were your classmates, people your age with ghost-like spirits materializing at their backs, flipping through the castle’s corridors, shooting guns and slingshots and magic at terrifying beasts. It was all so fast-paced, so stunning, that your body locked up witnessing the battle. A shadow spotted you in the background, defenseless and clearly not part of the Phantom Thief entourage, and taking the petty opportunity only a sore-loser on the ropes would take, struck out against you. You shrieked, your hands uselessly coming up to defend your face as if it would help. Akira’s eyes widened, his reflexes so much faster in this realm, and turned on his heel, diving in front of you to deflect the blast of frosty energy swirling toward you. It bounced off of the side of his large steel dagger and ricoheted back at the shadow. After assessing the situation and asking if you were okay, Akira decided it was time to return you back to the real world. It was too dangerous for someone without a persona to wander here. The thieves would return later, once you were safe at home.

＊

Anyway, now you believed him, you knew everything he was saying, about Kamoshida and his fucked up mind, about confidants, personas and metacognition was real and very much a serious matter. Now all that was left was to decide just how you could help them, what kind of deal you could strike with the clever leader of the Phantom Thieves. Of course, he didn’t expect you to get something and give nothing.

It was decided that you’d offer your knowledge as a writer to help with negotiation and charming shadows in the Metaverse. You’d turn those golden lines you wrote on the pages into real-life lessons, and Akira would learn to seduce shadows, to out-smart them, to persuade them to give up everything they had: their money, precious belongings, even their very selves. He would flirt, threaten, intimidate, any honeyed word or silver-tongued method he could use to make deals with shadows go along more smoothly. Perfect. It would help him out immensely. But, what did you want, he’d asked again.

It felt embarrassing, now that you were put on the spot, forced to disclose it, but although those “golden words” translated well into lessons for others, you found that you couldn’t as easily take your own advice. You struggled with human interaction in your real life, especially of the romantic kind. You could write a healthy relationship out on paper, create the ideal love interest from scratch for a story, but stumbled along words like some socially incompetent fool once it came time to apply that knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, these days even getting true, realistic romantic moments down on paper was a struggle. The well was drying up, writer’s block, as you’d explained it to your online friends. It was near impossible to make something from nothing, and you had nothing. No real romantic experience. You couldn’t help but think this was the route of the problem. Your writing, your precious romance novel would flourish, if only it’s author wasn’t completely clueless.

“Date me…” You mumbled, surprised out how your long moment of pensive introspection had accumulated into this clunky statement.

“What?” Akira let out a breath he’d seemed to be holding the entire time, just watching you think on what method of reciprocity was worth your help. Losing your nerve at the incredulous tone of his voice and the raise of his brows, you shrunk back a bit, ready to defend your words.

“W-wait!” You held a hand out between you. “Not really. I mean…” how to word this…? “Like, fake!” He looked even more confused than before. You released a noise of frustration. “What I mean is, you take me on dates - fake ones - stupid little stuff couples do, for my writing, of course…” You looked toward the ground, suddenly extremely interested in your shoes.

“How does that benefit you in any way?” He smiled, a bit forced, a blush dusting his pale cheeks.

“Well I- I’ve been having writer's block lately. I mean sure, I can give you lines and lessons from my previous works, drabble and things I’ve learned, written down in the past, but I have no fresh material. Stagnation is every writer’s downfall, but I have no experience, I need more to go off of… and then maybe I can even transfer what I discern from our… interactions - er… dates I mean - to you. Does that make sense?” You looked up at him hopefully.

“Uh… no,” Yeah, you knew it didn’t, but that’s all you had for him. His hand shook, much less confident as Akira than Joker, and he shoved it in his pocket.

“It’s hard to explain, I just… that’s my deal. Will you take it?” You clutched your bag a little closer to your body. “We don’t even have to tell anybody. I just want to experience it… going out… with someone…” It sounded a little more pathetic now that you were actually hearing yourself. You both stood in silence, Akira contemplating your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you as a person… it was just… complicated…

“Give me a day to think about it,” he spoke quietly, giving you a polite send off before parting ways.

That night, anxiety set in as you rolled around in your bed restlessly.

Did you sound like a creep? Were you being unreasonable? Was this asking too much of him? Does he think you’re crazy? You’ll probably never hear from him again. He’d probably rather find a way in that crazy Metaverse to erase your memories so he can forget the awkward exchange ever happened. Maybe he’ll kick your shadow’s ass one day.

You debated going to school the next day.

＊

Akira’s night, though not as horrendous as yours, was not a peaceful one. Like so many nights, he found himself awoken to the clink of a ball and chain, dressed in striped rags as he stood and walked to the bars of his cell. The twins were waiting, as always, anger in their eyes.

“Look alive, prisoner!” Caroline spoke.

“Our master would have a word with you!” Justine chimed in. Akira looked up, meeting Igor’s large grin.

“You’ve forsaken a bond, Trickster. One must ask, why?” Igor’s hands splayed over a deck on cards on his desk.

“Huh…? What do you mean?” Sleep lingering in his mind, and confused as to why he was here this time, Akira replied.

“I’ve told you, the bonds you strengthen over time and the new bonds you form, they will be what wins this fight. You can only complete your mission, save all that is, through the support your confidants provide, so why have you abandoned this bond?” Igor’s fingers folded together, hands clasped, a show of disappointment. “Now is not the time to not try hard enough.” Was that a hint of frustration in his tone? If so, he didn’t show it.

“...I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Akira rubbed one eye lazily.

“You’re not trying to understand, worm! Wake up!” Caroline’s fist banged down across the bars, startling Akira slightly. He looked to Igor again, who held up a single card between two fingers. On its face sat two wolves, both howling up at a glittering moon.

“The Moon.” Igor stated plainly. “Illusion, fear, anxiety, intuition, uncertainty, complexity, secrets, the unconscious mind. A friend, a possible lover, someone unsure of themselves and others. Creativity, shadowed by doubt. Someone who supports others but not themselves.” As he spoke, images of your face flashed in Akira’s mind. Igor threw the card into the air, catching it upside-down, letting the wolves fall into the moon, swimming in its glow. “Reversed: release of fear, repressed emotion, clarity, misinterpretations overturned. Someone who can fix what was upright. But you’ve passed over the opportunity.” Igor swipes his free hand in front of the card, and it disappears.

Scenes play out in Akira’s head. Confrontation with shadows, confrontations with real people, but these aren’t real… or rather, haven’t happened yet.

He receives clarity.

The Moon has more to offer than lessons on charisma, seduction, trickery, persuasion. His intuition will grow, his ability to perceive things before they happen, the ability to read and understand people, and be understood in return. Other bonds will grow, empathy will grow. More friends, closer friends, a flash of blue hair, white uniform, red hair, headphones, then a tidy uniform, a Shujin uniform, gloves, a beige jacket, and finally bouncy curls and a soft, high pitched voice. With your help, the Phantom Thieves can grow. Bonds will strengthen. Complexity, Igor had said. More than meets the eye. Was there more to you? You weren’t too bad, obviously intelligent… a bit odd, but kind enough, and he did find you cute… but pretending, a fake relationship? How could a fake bond strengthen

The card reappears, as if out of thin air, and Igor points to one upside down wolf.

“Me.” Joker whispers, as if guided by an unseen force. Igor points to the other wolf.

You.

He awakens with a start, nearly knocking Morgana off the bed. He has an answer for you now.

＊

He finds you at school the next day, huddled in the library and not where you’d said you’d meet him. You’d been dreading this, waiting for the rejection, your hand trembling slightly on the book in your hands. He sits across from you, a look of determination on his face. Waiting for him to speak was torture.

“I’ll do it.” He holds out a hand, waiting for you to shake it, seal the deal. A contact has been signed.

＊

Your first date with Akira is clunky, unpracticed, unprecedented of course. He doesn’t know much about what to do, either, so he takes you to Le Blanc for dinner. Some coffee and curry, maybe a soda and some conversation on the side? It couldn’t be too bad, right? That’s what dudes do, he thought, bring their... pretend sweetheart somewhere for dinner, right? Sojiro is teasing, of course, wondering who this new person was, why Akira was holding their hand. He smirks like a dad proud of his boy, and Akira, too embarrassed under Sojiro’s scrutiny now to sit down and serve you curry, rushes you upstairs.

After being dragged by the hand up rickety old stairs, you end up in Akira’s room alone. You look around, taking in his sparse decorations, humble belongings. It then strikes you that you are, in fact, alone. Alone with a boy in his room, for the first time in your life. You didn’t know how you got here, and so fast. Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe you just needed to calm down. This was part of the process, right? Real couples did this, to get to know each other. He beckons you over, gestures for you to sit on his bed with him. You’re hesitant, but Akira isn’t making a big deal out of it, and you’re not really alone, with Morgana right there, so you sit, as far from him as you could be on the surprisingly soft bed. Struggling for words and new to dates himself, Akira decides to treat you first and foremost like his friend. That makes this all easier.

He spends the next hour or so describing Mementos, his mentor Igor, the twins. He wants you to know everything, and it surprises him. His other confidants, save for the actual Phantom Thieves, don’t know anything about the hidden world their bonds are healing. He describes the arcana to you, the tarot, the way his soul resonates with The Fool, Ryuji The Chariot, Ann The Lovers. His doctor friend is Death, Sojiro the Hierophant. Morgana here is the Magician, and proud of it. He explains how he feels a bond with them, as he now does with you. They make him feel like he can do anything. You’re included in that now. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks. How could he say that so casually? It wasn’t like it was a love confession or whatever, but you had trouble seriously telling your online friends you appreciated having them in your lives without adding a joke or meme in there somewhere. Why did he even need your help? He seemed well spoken. You said so, voicing these opinions aloud.

“Huh.. you know, I actually don’t usually talk this much,” he smiled. “Must just be you.” He was only half teasing. You looked away nervously, feeling the need to change the subject.

“S-so, what am I?” You began to stroke Morgana’s fur, and this time he didn’t seem to mind.

“You mean your soul?” He scooted a bit closer.

“Yeah.” It didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Moon.” He replied softly.

He spent the rest of the night explaining the levels of Mementos, and some of the wicked people whose hearts he’s had the displeasure of seeing inside, but the absolute pleasure of changing. You say you aren’t surprised so many people are walking around so hurt inside or eager to hurt others. When the “date” ends - neither of you having even gotten that promised coffee or curry downstairs - you’re touching, sitting shoulder to shoulder looking at the moon outside his window with Morgana on your lap. The room seems a little warmer, a little less humble. Akira mentions with a sheepish grin that it’s getting late, and offers to walk you home.

Rank Up!

＊

You sit in your bed that night, Akira now having returned to Le Blanc, and think about if this will make good writing material or not. You had to have learned something, right? There was something to be gained from every experience… but you can’t help feeling like you’ve warmed up to the thought of Akira a bit more… not too much, however. You smiled to yourself at the thought of The Fool, tricked into dating the Moon, for all it can offer him.

He’d been so awkward at your front door when he dropped you off. You could tell he had no clue what to do. He was frantically looking around. People in movies kissed their date at this point, cheek or lips, depending on how the date went, right? He confessed that he’s one of those people who truly don’t know anything about romance, like you’d mentioned earlier in one of your conversations. You tell him it’s fine, that you didn’t expect anything, that you just met the other day. He thought he was being clear, dropping hints that he might want to peck your cheek, just a quick gesture to kick off your fake relationship, but maybe he wasn’t as slick as he thought. The hints seemed to go over your head. Maybe he really did need help.

＊

Your second date comes in the form of you begging to go back into the Metaverse for some inspiration. He fights you, bringing up the last time a shadow attacked you, but you are persistent. He gives in, taking you to the highest rung of Mementos, where the shadows are weak and he can keep you safe adequately on his own. It is a date, after all, no Phantom Thieves tagging along. Mementos is a bit more frightening than Kamoshida’s Palace, you mention, and he eases your fear, promising to protect you here, always. You take in his Phantom Thief uniform in more detail as you walk the long corridors of the realm of the subconscious and decide he looks quite handsome in it.

You watch him battle a demon that is the personification of lust, a succubus-like creature dripping with temptation and love, or so it thinks. Joker uses all that you’ve taught him so far, which isn’t much, and cons the false idol of love out of their money. It was quite comical yet a bit sad to watch the shadows expression fall from a cocky to a defeated one, but preformative love you’ve decided, is doomed to lose. The irony flies over your head.

From this experience, watching Joker fight with speed and grace, you settle on a genre for your novel. It will be a high-fantasy romance. Joker will inspire your main character, of course, but the love interest… was still undecided. You started drafting her to look like Ann, act like Ann, give off the energy and power Ann does. Ryuji was an option at first as well to inspire the love interest’s personality, but he was a bit too brash. You wanted someone strong, but soft and elegant at the same time. These characters were loosely based on the Phantom Thieves, anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

＊

When you leave the Metaverse, though Akira is a bit exhausted, he takes you to a local casual restaurant to make up for the last time at Le Blanc. There, sitting across the counter from you two is an older gentleman. Yoshida, Akira whispers, is a friend of his, another confidant. The Sun. Yoshida makes small talk, asking politely if you’re with Akira, and you feel your stomach clench. You knew this was fake, the agreement was clear, but hearing it aloud, the awkward ‘we’re just friends’ that was coming made you sweat. It still felt like rejection anyway. When Akira confirms that yes, you are in fact dating, your eyes widen, the coil in your stomach releasing. He smiles, taking your hand. This has to be an act, a show to play up the relationship. He’s just performing his duty, his role, holding up his end of the deal in order to simulate a real relationship and give you worthwhile source material… right?

Either way, you appreciate not being publicly humiliated, and smile back. That night, you write down everything, and what it’s like to not be alone.

Rank Up!

＊

Days pass, Kamoshida coming and going, justice being served, and you spend more and more time with your fake boyfriend. Your parents let him come over, and in your room you let him read some of the old poetry you’ve written, some lame pining drabble from your younger years, and some more recent things you’re proud of. He scours your room, digging up old hobbies and photos. You tell him all about them. He tells you he enjoys learning these things about you. You simply smile. It doesn’t seem to be the reaction he was looking for. Not liking the small frown that adorns his features, you pick the conversation back up, asking if he thinks you’ll ever have a persona. He smiles, maybe someday.

Rank Up!

＊

The Phantom Thieves are gaining fame, only more fodder for your writing. The more you hang out with Akira and his friends, the more real it feels. Your online friends can feel it, too. They sense you changing, talking less of writing and more of Akira. They tease you, of course, but they don’t get it. He’s just a main character… just a muse.

This time, Akira walks home to Le Blanc alone, wondering if he should tell you how he feels. He doesn’t like it, holding up this pretense of a fake relationship, pretending the glances and touches don’t matter. He wants to tell you…

...that he’s slowly falling.

You receive a little gift in the mail the next day. It’s a deck of tarot cards. The return address is blank. You call him to tell him all about it, and end up discussing the pros and cons of each card all night. What a coincidence that you should receive your own deck all of a sudden.

Rank Up!

＊

There are moments where you’re afraid you may be falling, too. There was the time that a blue-haired young man stalked you and your friends through Shibuya, turning corners when you did, always on your trail. When Ryuji finally got fed up and confronted the weirdo, asking why the hell he was following you guys, he’d revealed that his name was Yusuke, a student of a painting master, and that he was simply following inspiration where it lead.

“Your friend there, I was drawn to them,” he points elegantly, like some manga bishounen, past Ryuji and toward you. “I beg of you, allow me to paint your form. Something about your normalcy stands out. What I mean is, there is beauty to be found in not standing out, a silent grace in being so plain.” You could tell Yusuke meant no harm, that he simply may be a bit socially inept with his words, as well, but the way he was talking about you set something in Akira on fire. He stood in front of you, shifting until his body blocked yours from Yusuke’s sight.

“They aren’t plain.” He spoke with a dangerous edge to his tone, and you felt your heartbeat speed up. The hint of jealousy in his voice at Yusuke’s request for you to model for him, and anger at him calling someone he found so fascinating plain was evident.

＊

Yusuke seemed to be in denial in the coming days. Though your little troupe seemed to constantly be bumping into him, offering him sound advice and trying to awaken him to the mire of corruption that was the truth behind his mentor, Ichiryusai Madarame, he refused to see reason. He dove further into his art, but you could tell he was hurting. You used your time with Akira these days to teach him how art, much like film and literature, can reflect false truths and influence people. The deception, corruption and shallowness of the media extended to the art world, as he learned after one or two gallery visits with you.

It was then, in a gallery displaying Yusuke’s work, as you sat in a secluded corner alone discussing ways to take down Madarame, that Akira started to flirt incessantly.

He takes your hand, bringing up romantic tropes in movies he’s seen that seem so forced, one-sided, cliche, uncomfortable. He mentions that he would’ve done better, explains how those scenes would’ve played out if he had any say.

“Is that so?” Your brow raises, amused by how animated this usually quiet boy could be when he was passionate about something.

“Yeah! Of course! What, you don’t see me doing that?” he laughed breathily, going on about how the male lead of some high-school romance film Sojiro rented for him was clumsy, forceful, and didn't give his lover time and space to think about their feelings. “I would’ve treated them much, much better… “ his words trail off, as if lost in thought.

“...Is that so?” You ask again, studying his face and asking yourself how you didn’t notice before how beautiful the hue of his eyes were. You sure as hell were noticing now… steely grey, sharp, deep, purposeful. You’d have to write that down… for research purposes of course. When you pull yourself back to reality, no longer lost in the swirl of his irises, you realize he’s staring at you, and has been for some time.

“Do… can I-” he speaks, throat dry, and scoots himself closer. “May I kiss you…?” His voice is soft, so soft, scared.

“...Yes.” You answer, naturally, impulsively, voice just as soft. When Akira leans forward, and softly presses his apprehensive lips to yours, you feel like you’ve been set on fire. Your mind begins to go crazy, while your body is frozen. It’s not that you didn’t like it, some part of you did. You wanted more, but it felt wrong. This wasn’t real. You didn’t truly like him… right? This kiss was fake, for research purposes… to cure writer’s block…

...right?

You were frozen more from guilt than nerves. Weren’t first kisses supposed to feel like little butterflies in your stomach? Did he think he owed you this? Were you taking advantage of him at this point? Did he feel forced to kiss you to keep up his end of the bargain?

Akira deepened the kiss, a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you, begging you to reciprocate. When you didn’t, lost in your own head, he pulls away, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“W-we… we should head home. I’ll walk you…” he sighs. You both stand, make your way back onto the main street from the museum, and are silent the entire walk home.

You think he’s silent because you’ve forced him to think he needs to kiss you, and now regrets his decision. He thinks you’re silent because he’s just forced a kiss upon you, just like some Chad from a movie who can’t understand boundaries. Neither of you know your silence is for the exact same reasons.

Akira drops you off at home with a quiet ‘goodnight,’ and walks home, clearing his head in the cool night air.

“Stupid… jeez… fuckin’ stupid,” he huffs, repirmanding himself. This wasn’t real. You’d stated that from the beginning. This relationship was to benefit your writing, to help him in the Metaverse, nothing else. Nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

It was his fault he let himself develop real feelings. He has no right to be sad, to blame you, to get upset. You’d stated the terms from the very start…

Maybe he really was The Fool.

Rank Up…?

＊

The next few weeks are awkward.

Both of you think it’s your fault.

You go on dates like usual, but they are strictly business. You get writing material, he gets advice, no touching, and certainly no kissing. Yusuke joins the group. Things are great… friendly… strained, tense. Akira wonders what the hell he’s doing, if this bond is even worth it. Weeks pass. He feels your bond with him growing, but not in the way he wishes. It felt like all of his other confidants: visit, gain, rank up, gain power, learn. He wonders if he can keep this up. His heart aches. He wants to touch you more, but can’t, wants to tell you more, but won’t let himself.

＊

One rainy night, he calls you, like he often does when you can’t meet up in person, and tells you he can’t do this anymore. You lie, and say you agree. The guilt won’t let you tell him the truth, that you want to end the farce, move onto something more real. You can sense your feelings for him growing stronger each day, and it’s not fair to him. Without fighting, without the big “it’s not you it’s me you” you’re used to reading about in books, you tell him you respect his decision, and it’s over. When Akira hangs up, he finds himself a bit angry inside. You didn’t even try to fight for the relationship. There was a tiny little part of him that hoped you felt anything for him, that maybe it meant something to you. He cries that night, for the first time in a long time. They are angry tears, frustrated ones.

＊

In your bed, you find yourself sitting upright, dead inside, unfeeling, empty. You feel like a part of you is gone, but can’t pinpoint why. You don’t even notice the tears sliding down your own cheeks as you sift through the pack of tarot cards that mysteriously came into your life. You find The Moon, and play with it, twisting it between your fingers before sending it flying across the room like a paper dart. Did this mean you couldn’t hang out with the Phantom Thieves anymore? Were you losing your only in-real-life friends and… boyfriend(?) all in the same day?

You sifted through the cards and gently set aside the Emperor, the Lovers, the Chariot. Then your hand drifted over the Fool. You held it out in front of your face. A dancing man looking up at the sky with a jesters cap perched upon his head smiled back at you.

The start of a great journey, freedom from constraints. Each day is an adventure. Courage, anything can happen. There is a need to experience new things, to let yourself experience the love you deserve. Be willing to take risks.

A sad, thoughtful smile crosses your lips. You turn the card upside down.

If you disregard the repercussions of your actions, you are the Fool. You cannot see the position you’ve put yourself in. Is everything what it seems to be?

A breath catches in your throat, a wave of nausea hitting you. You scramble for your phone, and dial a number.

Silence, ringing, silence.

“...Yeah…?” Akira sniffles. He’s been crying???

“I want… can we talk… can I come over?”

“It’s late.”

“It’s not, we came home way earlier than usual. You’re just using that as an excuse.” You were feeling a little braver than usual, the spirit of the Fool within you. You heard him thinking, a sigh that came through as static.

“Yeah… fine, I’ll be waiting.” Relief washed over you.

＊

When you knocked on the door after speed-walking to Le Blanc, Sojiro let you in with a warm smile. He obviously didn’t know about your falling out with Akria, yet.

“He’s upstairs,” he gestured, exhaustion evident in his voice. You rushed past, thanking him with a small bow of your head. Only now was the inevitable fear starting to sink in. Akira heard footsteps creaking on the stairs. Sojiro never came up unannounced, and with that realization, his back stiffened. Morgana picked up your scent, excusing himself, passing you on your way up the stairs. He could take a hint.

He stood immediately, stepping toward you, stopping halfway. You shrunk into yourself, unable to meet his eyes.

“Akira… I wanted to talk…” you muttered.

“You said that… about what?” He was more than a little pissed, but he was always one to hide his temper well.

“Can we sit…?” You gestured to his small sofa. It didn’t feel right to sit on the bed. He hesitated, before shuffling over and sitting next to you. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Oh, there were so many things, but he wanted to know what you thought was worth apologizing over. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, he dialed back his attitude a tad.

“For… making you enter into the agreement in the first place. Someone’s affections, their love, their touch and body… it’s not something that can be forced. It should never be pretend.” You felt like the biggest hypocrite ever right now. His head shook a bit in disbelief, blinking hard.

“I wasn’t pretending!” His hands flew to his hair, mussing it. “That was the problem.” He sighed heavily.

“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I wasn’t being forced… are you… you must be the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.” He laughed cynically.

“But-”

“Wait, wait, why did you think I ended our” he put air quotes up, “ ‘fake’ relationship.” He needed this clarification, now. For closure, for redemption, to fix things, whatever may come next.

“Because… because I was forcing you to date me! You were uncomfortable?!” You could feel your voice begin to break, tears clawing to escape. You’d never felt so disgusted with yourself as you did right now.

“Are you serious?” He took both of your hands, looking you in the eyes. You nod. “Answer truthfully. Do you have feelings for me? Real ones?” You bit your lip, that feeling of selfish guilt creeping like bile up your throat. You nod again. “This whole time?” Another nod. He releases you, turning away. “Sheesh, maybe I’m the oblivious one here…” he spoke more to himself than to you. You both sat in tense silence, not sure what to do, what to say.

“Akira…”

“It was real to me,” he moved closer, trapping you against the end of the couch.

“Really?” Your heartbeat was going crazy, and he leaned ever so slightly closer, his hand on the back of the couch for support. “I broke up with you because it was hurting me to pretend I didn’t have real feelings for you, and to think you didn’t want me back, not for real. I thought… that you’d always think of me as just some character for your book.”

“No… Akira… had I known you felt this way…” He leaned in further, your noses bumping slightly, clumsily. This time, he felt no discomfort, no hesitation from your side. His heart fluttered in excitement. You could feel his breath on your warm cheeks.

“May I kiss you?” He asked again, a secondary, unspoken question sitting beneath his words.

“Yes.” Your voice was shaky, but you were sure, for once, of what you wanted. His hand went to your back, cradling you into his chest to lay down flat against the couch. With a passion he’d been holding back, he pressed his lips to yours without reservation. You sunk into the warm, plush feeling, tilting your head at a better angle. He kept the kiss soft, shallow, low pressure, looking for you to give him the signal to stop. When your arms reached upward, snaking around his neck and pulling him harder down into you, he groaned softly, barely audible, before passing his tongue over your lips a single time. You parted your lips, allowing him access, and his hand, pale and trembling, came up and found its way under the hem of your shirt, splayed nervously against the smooth skin there.

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smellsfaintlyofvanilla · 4 years

Note

I love ur fics ahhhh 😭💕 I saw ur requests were open so I couldn't resist. Can you do a Hanji x reader one shot where it's Hanji's and the reader's anniversary but Hanji ends up forgetting about the date they planned bc they're busy with their experiments and stuff. An argument ends up happening but Hanji feels guilty so she ends up forcing Erwin to let them have a day off where they have a date with their s/o. Maybe Levi and Erwin help too? Thank you sm sorry this is so specific!

HANGE NOOOO oml they would though

Anniversary

(Zoe Hange x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: None

Category: Fluff

Summary: Too busy with work, Hange forgets about their three year anniversary, and an argument ensues. Upset about this, they gets Levi and Erwin’s help to make it up to their s/o.

Words: 2.4K

Beams of light shone through the window—blinds doing little to stop it. The sporadic rays of the sun warmed your skin, your body stirring you awake at the detection of sunlight.

You slowly open your eyes to say good morning to your lover, but you sighed in disappointment at the empty space next to you, a small dip in the bed where they always slept.

You sit up and look at the calendar. There it was, circled in bright red ink, March 7th. Your two year anniversary of dating the scientist.

You knew of their habits; staying up late working on experiments, and waking up extra early to begin again. You understood the importance of their work, but you couldn’t help but be saddened by their frequent absences. You wished, at the very least, they could find time in their day to spend with you, especially on your anniversary of all days.

You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and to the closet, ready to get dressed and face yet another long, busy day.

---

You knocked on the door again—the third time since you had showed up to the commander’s door. After another moment of no response, you pushed the door open wordlessly, they wouldn’t care if you walked right in anyway. It was a privilege only their lover had; being able to walk in while they were working and talk to them. It was a small gesture of affection between the two of you, but a silent one. Still, you appreciated the gesture.

You stepped into the room, and the sight of Hange hunched over the desk and too dissolved in their work to notice you ignited a twinge of sympathy in you. A single, tall candle on the desk provided what little light there was in the room, and you wondered why they hadn’t even bothered to open the blinds. How long have they been awake?

“Hange?” You chirped quietly, and you saw the scientist jump at the sound of their name, turning to face you curiously. They smiled at you the second they recognized you, a satisfied hum leaving their lips. As soon as you had walked close enough to Hange’s desk, they snaked a hand around your neck, pulling you down to plant a soft kiss to your jawline, before returning their attention to the various papers on their desk.

“Good morning, love.” They greeted quietly, and the tiredness was evident in their voice—they made no attempt to hide it.

You blushed at the affectionate greeting, and made yourself comfortable, leaning against one of the many wooden bookshelves that lined the walls of their office.

“G’morning Hange.” You yawned. You thought out your next sentence carefully before you spoke it. “What are you doing up so early? We have a relaxing day ahead of us.”

Hange bore a confused look, turning to you in unfiltered curiosity. “We do?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. How did they not plan for the date the two of you had planned?

“Yeah...” You deadpanned. “We do.”

They made no verbal response, only exasperating their confused look as if to beckon a further explanation.

“Do you not realize what today is...?” You tilted to the side, perhaps testing the waters for a prank, or a temporary lapse in memory. You waited for their head to perk up and chirp out an affirmation about the date, but they did no such thing.

“...What today is?” They echoed, clearly not understanding what you were talking about.

You sighed annoyingly, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “Our anniversary, Hange. It’s our anniversary.”

You watched their face sink in realization.

“That’s today...?” They asked meekly. It’s almost as if they could sense the incoming anger and frustration coming from you.

You groaned loudly, pulling your body away from the bookshelf and taking a few steps towards them. “Yes, Hange. It’s today.” Their face strained and they turned to look down at the stack of papers and materials on their desk, a look of ‘Oh shit’ being plastered all over their face.

“Geez, Hange!” You half shouted, causing your already exhausted partner to shrink further into their chair. “You bury yourself in your work so often, but I didn’t think you would forget our anniversary of all things! Am I seriously such a low priority to you?!”

They straightened their back suddenly, and you were reminded of how defensive they got when they felt their work was being insulted. “I have an important job, Y/N! I can’t forfeit everything to spend time with you, I have to keep working!”

You wanted nothing of their excuses, and you turned your back to them, balling up your fists as you headed towards the door, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“Fine,” you shuddered, “If you want to spend our anniversary alone, then be my guest!”

---

“Shit,” they paced back and forth on the wooden floor, subconsciously biting their fingernails out of stress. “Shit shit shit...”

Erwin raised an eyebrow at this, watching Hange with a stern, but amused expression. “Are you done?” His voice echoed in the small office.

“Well, four eyes,” Levi spoke, using his favorite nickname for them nonchalantly, “The first step would be to not yell at her.” He answered bluntly.

Hange threw their arms up in frustration. “Yeah, well it’s too late for that!” They grumbled. “I didn’t mean to yell at them... I was just...”

“Cranky?” Levi raised an eyebrow.

They glared at Levi with a relatively displeased expression. “You didn’t have to put it that way...”

A comfortable silence passed the room, and Hange continued to pace the room nervously as Erwin and Levi silently contemplated the estranged person’s query.

“If you really want to make it up to them,” Levi piped up once again, drawing the scientist’s attention away from their thoughts and towards the black haired man sat on the table in front of them. “Then I may have an idea.”

“YES!” Hange shouted, perhaps a little too loud as the two men in the room cringed. “Uh, I mean...” They cleared their throat. “What is it, Levi?”

“Well, first, Erwin.” Levi turned his head to face the blonde man, and Erwin matched his gaze intently. “You’re going to need to give Hange the day off, first.”

Erwin turned his head to the side, folding his arms and sighing, “Use it responsibly.”

“Thank you Erwin!” They flung their arms around the man’s broad shoulders, squeezing him happily in a hug.

They let go after a few seconds, turning to face Levi with and excited expression. “What now Levi?!”

“First,” he deadpanned, “Take a nap. You look miserable.”

---

You strode down the hallways of the barracks, a stern expression still planted on your face from the day’s earlier events.

You decided to play it just like Hange, so you deliberately avoided them in hopes to get them to understand. Was it petty? A little bit. Were you just petty enough to do it anyway? Yeah.

Still, when Erwin pulled you aside out of nowhere and said he needed you urgently, you couldn’t disobey your superior. Not that you had any indication this had to do with Hange, anyway.

“Y/N.” He spoke, boring a serious expression, despite the wildly unprofessional nature of the meeting. “You’re needed somewhere.”

“Wha...” You stumbled over your words for a moment, before asking the first question that came to mind. “Me? Why not someone else?”

He dodged the question effortlessly, continuing right where he left off. “It has to be you. And you have to go alone.” He slid a paper across your desk, but you hesitated to pick it up so quickly.

“Just go to the location I’ve marked here.” He uncrossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, signifying that he had finished speaking. “You’ll understand when you get there. Go.”

You nodded fiercely, saluting him before you turned to leave, picking up the paper as you went.

“And Y/N?” You turned to face him. “Take off your ODM gear. Wear something formal.

---

You went to the location Erwin had specified, and you were only left with more confusion. You had put on something somewhat nice, with a white button up shirt, black dress pants, and shiny black dress shoes. Still, their was no sign of any sort of “mission” that Erwin apparently needed from you.

You had found yourself in an open field, specifically the one behind the Scout regiment building. The tall grass swayed in the wind, and you noted the fact that the usual soldiers sparring in the fields were strangely absent.

But, as the sun began to set, a small light peered it’s way into your vision. You squinted, focuses your eyes on what appeared to be... a candle...?

You stuffed the map into your back pocket carelessly, speed-walking to the light out of curiosity.

You made it towards the source of the light, and it was, indeed, a candle. Of course, there was more than that. It was set on a small circular table draped in a white tablecloth, one chair on either side of it. Two empty wine glasses as well as a few pairs of utensils on each side.

You studied the sight curiously, and you pulled out a chair without thinking. As soon as you did though, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump and squeak out in surprise.

You heard a hearty chuckle behind you, and you turned to face the source of the noise, but your eyes widened in surprise at the sight.

Hange stood tall in a jet black suit, smiling down at you warmly. They had their hair tied in a ponytail, and had ditched their work goggles for more formal rectangular glasses. “Sorry, Y/N.” They rubbed the back of their neck nervously. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You took a step back, shamelessly eyeing down Hange’s attire, a pink blush creeping up on your cheeks. You meant to stay angry, but you honestly had forgotten all of your gripes upon seeing Hange dressed in such a nice outfit.

“Hange?” You sputtered, trying to hide your fluster. “What’s going on?”

They walked over to you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down to sit in one of the chairs.

“I felt a little bad about forgetting our anniversary,” They chuckled nervously, “So I set this up!” They smiled proudly.

“A candlelit dinner?” You mused, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “How original.” Despite your outwardly unamused reaction, you were pleasantly surprised with the display of affection.

They sat down across from you, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear.

“It’s well thought out.” You raised an eyebrow in doubt. “For the time we had...” They smiled nervously.

“I’m sure.” You chuckled. You relaxed into your chair before holding up your empty wine glass. “Did you bring anything other than empty dishes?”

Hange nodded quickly, reaching down under their table to grab something, and you quickly realized that it was the neck of a wine bottle. They popped the cork effortlessly, and poured the two of you a glass each.

You took a sip from your glass, the taste of alcohol relaxing you further into your environment.

Hange put two of theirs fingers in the their mouth and whistled loudly, causing you to wince and cover you ears.

“What was that??” You sputtered.

“Just calling over the cook.”

You nodded, taking another long sip from your wine glass. The suddenness of the situation died down, and you peered up at Hange, who seemed to be staring at you nervously. They seemed to be trying to gauge your reaction, but you weren’t giving them anything to work with, so you decided to start speaking.

“You went out of your way to do this?” You sighed, staring at them curiously.

“Yeah...” They trailed off, “I had to make it up y’know. It really wasn’t my intention to ignore you...”

They looked back up at you, and you tilted your head, prompting them to continue.

“I got consumed in my work, and completely forgot about something so important to you. It’s my mistake.” They bowed their head in apology. “So I set this up. I even got Erwin and Levi to help. I just wanted to make it up to you. I just wanted...” They looked to the side with a blush on their face. “...to make you happy.”

You smiled softly at them, understanding their apology.

“It’s fine, Hange.” You laughed out loud, causing Hange to blush at your beautiful face in the candlelight. “I forgive you.”

They smiled, relief washing over her face as the weight lifted off of their shoulders. “Thank god...” They muttered, leaning back in their chair. “I was afraid I fucked up...” They giggled.

Their face in the yellow hue of the candle make them look ethereal, and you couldn’t help your heart from fluttering as the overwhelming urge to kiss them overtook you.

You peered up through shy eyes and met their bright ones. You didn’t explain at all, but they seemed to understand as you scooted your chair closer and leaned forward. They leaned towards you as well, as your lips connected delicately. You felt their hands go up to cup your cheeks gently as you rested your own hands on the table.

You stayed like that, silently enjoying the moment for what felt like ages, until you heard a small sound to your side.

“Ahem,” The noise startled you to lean back a little bit, and Hange did the same. A man, donned in a formal outfit holding a tray of luxurious looking food.

“Ah, sorry, sorry...” Hange trailed over, slinking back into their chair quickly, their demeanor and posture not at all aligning with the formal connotations of their attire and the setting before them. You had straightened in your chair almost immediately, blushing at the fact that someone had witnessed you sharing a somewhat intimate moment with Hange.

The waiter said nothing, only rolling his eyes as he set the tray down upon the table, before turning around to walk away silently.

You scooped some food onto your plate, watching admirably as Hange did the same. Once they had finished, they turned their head up to meet your gaze before smiling.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

This feels bad but oh well lol.

Also sorry this took so long lol I’ve been busy :|

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #zoe hange #hange zoe #zoe hanji #hanji zoe #zoe hange x reader #zoe hanji x reader #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange x reader #fluff

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ohmygoodnessgraciouss · 4 years

Text

Reality Check - Chapter 2

Oh my Odin! I can not thank you all enough for the love you gave Reality Check’s first chapter. Each and every comment has brought a smile to my face. Thank you so much. Seriously. And I can’t wait for you all to see where this goes. We’re only going up from here on out, so buckle up.

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023. The two bonded over the loss of their partners. It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend. Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Taglist (Let me know if you want to be a part of it!): @dpaccione

Missed the first part? Read it here!

Running through the eternal palace halls to hide from the God of Mischief seemed like an impossible task. You had to find a hiding spot soon. Unfortunately, the halls were open wide. The golden pillars were large, and wider than three men, so maybe you had a chance behind them. You could give it a try since you had nothing to lose.

With the book gripped tightly in your hands you ran behind the pillar, leaning your back against it. It wouldn’t be much longer until you could hear his footsteps approaching. As long as you run around the pillar at the right time you should be able to escape him.

His footsteps came rushing towards you and then stopped suddenly. You held in a breath, fearful that he could hear even the slightest noise right now. If there’s one thing you could remember at the palace halls, it’s that a pin dropping could echo through them. You tried it once.

You started to look to the left, taking a glance around the pillar. You didn’t even hear him approaching you from behind. His hands quickly stole the book from your hands as you jumped, turning around faster than lightning to look at him. He was smirking at you. “If you’re going to steal my book, at least don’t get caught walking out the door.”

“Well maybe I wanted to get caught. If I hadn’t, perhaps you would never come out of that library.” You huffed, causing him to laugh.

“Oh come now, I’ve only been in there for a few days. It hasn’t been that long at all.”

“Only a few days? Loki, you’ve been in there for a week. There are three hundred thousand books in that library and I guarantee if anyone has read every single one, it’s you. What are you doing in there?”

“Reading, isn’t it obvious?” You rolled your eyes at the response.

“Why are you shutting everyone out and simply reading all day every day?”

He hesitated before answering you. You knew him well enough by now, after several decades together being each other’s confidant. “It’s nothing.”

“If it were nothing you wouldn’t seem so determined to return to that library as soon as possible. Is it about the coronation?”

“In a way, yes.” He couldn’t lie about the situation to you. If anyone deserved to know the truth it would have been you. “Don’t worry about it, love. There’s nothing that can be done about it now anyway.” He said it almost as if he was trying to convince himself that it had no effect either.

“Do you promise there’s nothing on your mind?”

“I promise.”

______

“Are you sure you’re alright, Loki? I’m worried you’re going to make your fingers bleed at this rate,” You said, watching him practice a song on the guitar for the hundredth time in a row.

“I’m 100% sure that I will be fine once I’m able to perfect this song.” You raised an eyebrow at his statement as he tried to restart the song again, this time ending up with a broken string. The canned laughter you heard in the back of your head was (for once) hidden by your own stifled laughter. Loki glared playfully at you.

“This is just a talent show, you know. You don’t have to be incredible. The fact that you’re willing to do this at all is admirable.” You smiled.

“If I’m going to do it I may as well be the best one in it, darling.”

“It’s just a talent show for the children!” You exclaimed, laughing at his ability to make anything a competition.

“And the children deserve only the best.”

“Yes, well I doubt the children will care if you mess up a single note. Your wife, however, will care if you manage to hurt yourself by the end of this.” You walked up to him, slowly taking the guitar out of his hands. “How about this? I’ll go down to the store to pick up some new guitar strings for you while you focus on… Anything else.”

He pretended to contemplate it momentarily while you grew impatient. “Well considering I can’t exactly play with a missing string I suppose this will have to do.”

“Alright, Hank Williams, go work on the car or something. I’ll be back before you know it.” You kissed his cheek and walked out of the house. You spun around quickly to see Loki smiling softly at you as you closed the door. Despite the fluttery feeling you had in your chest by his reaction, a sense of dread was quickly replacing it.

You began to walk across your lawn, taking a glance at the neighborhood. It seemed slightly different than yesterday. Newer cars? New designs for your homes? You couldn’t tell exactly, but it was just enough for you to wonder. Maybe you weren’t the most observant person in the world, but you assumed you would be able to take note of someone getting an upgrade on their house.

As you started making your way down the street and to the store, you spotted Agnes across the street with Wanda. It looked like the two were politely chit chatting about something before you saw Dottie walking closer to them. You internally groaned at the idea of having to talk to Dottie. She always seemed pompous and uptight to you. You’ve never had to deal with her face-to-face thankfully, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear about her from neighbors who knew her.

You decided to walk past them, waving to both Wanda and Agnes. Agnes smiled brightly towards you and it almost froze you in place. Agnes out of everyone here frightened you the most. She was too nice, too neighborly. It seemed like all she ever did was try to butt in to everyone’s lives. There was something off about the look in her eyes. She looked at Wanda with an almost kind of sadness when she said something. Wanda seemed to be amused by whatever she had said, so why did Agnes seem so disheartened?

Perhaps it wasn’t your place to ask. You had to get to the store. Talking to Wanda and Agnes could wait.

You walked into the store and were greeted by no one. At least the world was working in your favor for that one, you didn’t have to dodge people left and right just to grab a few things.

As you walked down the seemingly endless aisles of the store you could find a couple people every once in a while. They seemed to be stuck though. They would just stare at a single item as if it was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. It sent chills down your spine as you passed by them, not a single word being spoken. You don’t even know who these people were. None of them looked like they wanted to be there.

Fortunately, there was no one in the music section of the store. The section had countless musical instruments including guitars, flutes, and drums. Each one was uniquely designed, with price tags on every single one of them. When you tried to read them, you couldn’t figure out what they were saying. The numbers were blurred and blended in with one another.

Maybe they were removing the tags because there was a sale going on? You looked around for any indication of that and found nothing. Maybe water got on to the tags and the ink leaked, but there was no damage or any sign of a leak anywhere around the store.

That’s when you noticed the bright red guitar pick on a shelf. It was an electric red, far brighter than anything else in the room. You walked towards it, confused by the color. When you picked it up, it slowly lost its color. The red that seemed to radiate off the pick faded until it was a dull grey.

“Excuse me, miss-”

You jumped at the sound of someone’s voice. You turned towards the man, noticing that he was the one you bumped into only yesterday. Once again his green eyes were what caught your attention. He was dressed in a suit, his hair slicked back. “Oh! I’m so sorry, you startled me.” You laughed breathlessly.

He smiled politely. “No, I apologize. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was just wondering if I could ask you a question or two.”

“Of course you can! Although I believe a proper introduction may be needed beforehand, especially after I ran into you. I’m Y/N,” You held your hand out and smiled.

“I’m-” He stopped himself for a moment before shaking your hand, “I’m Scott.”

“A pleasure to meet you Scott!” You smiled. “It’s nice to know more people around here. Are you new here?”

“Well, it seems like it. I don’t really know if you could call me new to the town though. I just know that I feel out of place here. They all seem to cast me out before I can even have a chance to introduce myself,” He chuckled.

“Yeah, I understand that feeling. Right now it seems like something’s changing around here. I can hardly keep up with it!”

“It’s nice to know I’m not alone then,” He smiled.

“Agreed.” A brief moment of silence was shared before you remembered he wanted to ask something. “So, you said you had a couple questions?”

“Oh yes, but I would prefer if we talked about it outside. The walls have ears around here, you know.” He said it with such a serious tone that you were almost afraid to question him. His eyes held a level of somber that you hadn’t seen in anyone in years. Whatever he wanted to discuss, it had to be something that you wouldn’t forget.

“Who’s going to want to listen to our conversations?” You laughed, attempting to lighten the mood a little.

“You may not want to know.”

#loki laufeyson #loki odinson #thor #avengers #marvel #loki x reader #fluff #angst #wandavision #wanda maximoff #vision #wandavision spoilers #Reality Check Masterlist #scarlet witch #fanfic #fanfiction #romance

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drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

Staying In

Opie Winston x F!Reader

Request by Anon: So, here's the thing. It's hella misty over here. I kinda don't do mist. Trips my eyes out, does me a cold and I kinda don't like it since I nearly got hit by a car in some thick ass fog before. Maybe a big, grizzly bear of an Opie x female reader where they have a fluffy day very much away from the outside world. I mean, who likes it out there anyway? Amiright?

Warnings: Opie being a total softie and stealing away my entire heart, (lol but forreal this is just fluffy goodness there’s no warnings for this one)

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: This is my first fic for Opie! I love him so much and I’m glad I got to give him some love and fluff. Enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @adela-topaz-caelon @mijop @chibsytelford @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @multiyfandomgirl40 (If you want to be added just let me know!)

When you woke up in the morning, the first thing you did was peek out the window to see what it looked like outside. You saw that a blanket of fog had settled itself over Charming. It was beautiful from your side of the glass, but you had no interest in going outside in it. There was something about the gloomy, slightly chilly weather always made you want to stay inside. You just hoped that you wouldn’t have to stay home alone.

You rolled onto your side and wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead against the ink that covered his back. You felt him begin to stir and he instantly placed his hands over yours. You smiled, pressing a light kiss on his back. He let out a quiet chuckle, vocal chords still weighted with sleep.

After a few minutes, he turned and faced you. His eyes were hardly open but there was a tired smile on his face as you reached forward and trailed your fingers through his beard. He rested his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him, softly kissing you on the lips.

“Morning,” he mumbled as he brushed his nose against yours.

You giggled quietly, “Good morning,” you traced your thumb along his cheek, “You home today?”

He pulled away from you slightly so he could look into your eyes, “I can be.”

You smiled, letting your hands drop so they could run along his chest, “It just feels like a stay-at-home kind of day.”

He chuckled and nodded as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “That sounds good to me.”

“You sure?” as thrilled as you were at the thought of staying curled up in bed all day with your man, the last thing you wanted to do was get Opie into trouble with the club because he decided to skip out.

He wrapped his arms tighter around you so you were practically smothered against his chest. You laughed and you could feel his laughter against your cheek as well. His body so easily enveloped yours as he tangled your legs up together.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you mumbled against his chest, still laughing.

The two of you laid together in comfortable silence for a while longer. You idly traced over the ink that decorated his skin while his hands ran up and down your back. You could feel yourself practically melting into him and you never wanted to get out of bed.

“We should probably make breakfast,” he mumbled into your hair.

You groaned half-heartedly, “Can we do that from here?”

He chuckled, “I don’t think so,” he kissed your temple, “You can stay in bed, I got it.”

You watched him for a moment as he climbed out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. You smiled at the way that nothing was ever quite long enough, always falling just above his ankles. He turned and saw you looking at him and he laughed, shaking his head. For a moment you contemplated being lazy and letting him take care of breakfast himself, but you wanted to soak up all the time that you had with him for the day. With a tiny sigh, you tossed the blanket off of yourself and got out of bed.

You heard him chuckling as he walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, having heard you getting up. “Can’t stay away, huh?” he said with a laugh.

Walking up behind him, you ran your hands down his back before wrapping your arms around his waist. You rested the side of your face against his back, soaking up the warmth coming from his skin. He stepped towards the fridge to start getting things out and you stepped with him, causing him to chuckle.

“I should just start wearing you like a backpack.”

You laughed, “That would be ideal. I wouldn’t have to walk anywhere ever again.”

Your arms returned to your sides as you left him to start a fresh pot of coffee. It was only a matter of moments before you felt his hands resting on your shoulders and his chest pressing against your back. You smiled as you leaned into the contact but kept up with what you were doing. It was his turn to follow you around, to be your shadow.

So rare were the quiet mornings that the two of you got to spend together. There was always something to be done, somewhere for one of you to go, but not today. The world outside was grey and hazy, wrapping your home in its own little bubble to keep you away from reality.

You laughed quietly as Opie stayed behind you, working over and around you as both of you attempted to use the stove at the same time. He was taller than you, his arms longer, which gave him a bit of help as he tried to maneuver around you. There was a lot of arms tangling and fingers brushing against each other. He would lean over you, causing you to laugh as some of his weight pressed onto your back.

Making French toast and bacon for breakfast could have and should have been a quick and easy task. But when you had Opie behind you trying to complicate it, finding humor in your annoyance with him, it dragged out a little longer than necessary. You couldn’t help but to laugh, though, glad to see the softness and humor in him that got lost in the midst of the chaos sometimes.

With the help of a small miracle, you safely finished making breakfast. The two of you were camped out on the couch together, your legs draped over his lap and his plate resting on your shins. You couldn’t help but to smile as he rested his free hand on your thigh, thumb tracing idly as he watched TV. You looked up at him from the plate in your lap and felt a smile taking over your face.

“Food’s gonna get cold,” he didn’t have to take his eyes off the television to know that you were staring at him.

You laughed and shook your head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your plates had long been discarded onto the coffee table. Opie had repositioned himself and pulled you so that you were laying with your back against his chest, settled nicely between his legs. You smiled as you leaned your head back against his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub small circles into your shoulders. He let out a quiet chuckle, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“Imagine if we could do this all the time?” you asked, eyes still closed.

You could feel his lips curl into a smile as they stayed pressed against you, “You’d get sick of me.”

You laughed, lightly patting his thigh, “I don’t think so.”

His arms slid so that they were wrapped around you just below your chest. He drummed his fingers lightly against your stomach and you bit back a laugh at the ticklish sensation. He squeezed you lightly, pressing your body closer to his.

“I love you.”

You smiled, tilting your head up so that you could look at him, “I love you too.”

His hands crept up underneath the fabric of your shirt but stayed resting on your stomach. You smiled as you settled back against him, eyes closing as you listened to the sound of his heartbeat along with the television.

“There anything you wanted to do today?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

“This,” your response was instant.

He laughed as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, “That sounds good.”

He began to leave light kisses all along your shoulder and neck, eliciting a content laugh from you. You turned so that your chest was pressed against his. He looked down at you, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. You shimmied up so that you were face-to-face with him before situating your legs so that you were straddling his lap. He chuckled as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours but he didn’t say anything.

You lightly carded your fingers through his beard as his hands slid up and down your sides. His nose brushed lightly against yours for a moment before he leaned in and kissed you. Your hands slid and found their way to rest on the back of his neck, keeping his lips pressed to yours for as long as you could. His arms wrapped tightly round you, heat seeping into your skin.

When you finally took your lips off of his, you could see the smile that was spreading across his face. It wasn’t often that he let go of the stoic façade that he held onto so tightly, but when he did it was one of your favorite things about him. There was a softness underneath the front that he kept up so often. And as your hands rested on his chest, able to feel his heartbeat going a little faster than usual, you were glad that you got to bring that part out of him.

“Thank you for staying with me today,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I like getting to have you all to myself.”

He smiled, “I’ll stay with you any time.”

“Even if you have to wear me like a backpack around the house?”

He laughed, “Especially if I have to do that.”

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa #soa imagine #opie winston #opie winston x reader #opie winston x you #sons of anarchy fanfiction #opie winston fluff #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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ibelongtowrath · 4 years

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Amor Librorum - Obey Me! Satan x Reader

Satan's in heat, and you just had to wear that short little skirt, didn't you? A/N: This was a request for a Satan in heat story! My first work since my hiatus, and I hope I did it justice. I kinda went hard with Dom Satan, so please enjoy. Pairing: Satan x Fem!Reader Word Count: ~6.6k Tags/Warnings: 18+ NSFW, fisting, oral sex, degradation, breeding, rough sex, double penetration, tail sex, dirty talk, dominance, choking. NSFW under the cut!

The peaceful quiet of the library is disturbed by a loud groan of frustration, not at all surprised to find the sound originating from yourself. Your eyes open, unable to focus as you stare aimlessly at the pile of papers before you. Haphazardly-written notes cover the pages of your notebooks, some even squished into the margins, tiny doodles of demon horns and rainbows sprinkled throughout in an effort to satiate your never-ending boredom in class. God, Devildom classes are relentless, filled with endless information and not a lot of stimulation. A deep sigh falls from your lips. Rubbing your temples, you lean back in your chair, eyes closing once more.

“MC, is there anything I can help you with?”

The familiar voice startles you and you start, a small gasp escaping you as your eyes fly open. A few moments later, you finally notice Satan sitting close to the fireplace, book in hand as usual as your face heats up.

Satan, so goddamn handsome; the one you’ve had your eye on for a while, but were always too intimidated to approach.

“Satan! I-I didn’t even hear you come in,” you stammer in embarrassment, finally beginning to collect yourself and steady your breathing.

Satan’s jade-green gaze studies yours momentarily, brows knit together before his face relaxes. A gentle smile paints his face, and he chuckles, shaking his head. His blond locks fall forward into his face, reaching a hand up to brush them back.

“I have been in here for nearly thirty minutes now,” he says. “You were so focused on your work, I didn’t have the heart to disturb you. Though now, you look a bit...frazzled, so to speak.”

“You can say that again,” you agree, making a face at your messy notes.

It wasn’t that the material exceeded your capabilities; in fact, quite the opposite. You pored endlessly over your work daily since you had arrived not too long ago, paying attention in class and asking questions, with the occasional doodle finding its way onto your notes just to break up the monotony. Your dedication to success was something the brothers, and Diavolo, admired greatly about you.

It of course caught the attention of the Avatar of Wrath himself, even more so than his brothers. He respected you greatly, your wit and intelligence closely rivaling even his own. He felt an affinity towards you, despite your newness to the Devildom.

Feeling the intensity of his gaze, you look awkwardly down at yourself as your hand reaches to tug at the hem of your skirt, a little too short for your taste. Asmo had insisted on it, claiming R.A.D. needed a bit more excitement. Yeah, excitement for him, maybe.

Satan’s eyes quickly move to your thighs on the chair, eyeing the way you play with your skirt. A low sound rumbles in his chest at the sight, and he grits his teeth, willing himself under control. It was that time, the few days during each Devildom moon cycle where demons felt their desire to breed skyrocket, nearly going feral to satiate the hunger deep within. The heat period.

He had grown skilled in suppressing the urge, thousands upon thousands of cycles having passed in his lifetime. That isn’t to say he never gave in to it; even he had his moments where he couldn’t ignore the need to feel release, either relieving himself with his own doing, or with the occasional acquaintance made when Asmo had dragged him to one of his opulent parties. More often than not, Satan had simply resisted the pressing need, throwing himself deep into his studies instead.

That is, until you came along. You had piqued his interest, and he fully intended on studying you in his own way, eager to learn. Now you were here, in the place he went to when he was trying to escape his natural urges, wearing that short skirt of yours. That fucking skirt, tempting him like no other, and you have no clue.

Oh, the places his mind went when thoughts of you intruded were certainly risqué as is, nearly every day. He wanted nothing more than to indulge in you, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss, exploring each other’s bodies as lovers do. But right now, in the midst of his heat? He’ll throw caution to the wind, risk it all to push you down onto the nearest surface, a hand slipping between your legs. To hear your needy cries for him to fill you with the seed of his sin, each wet thrust laced with lust and desire...

“Well, thank you,” you say after a few quiet moments, oblivious to the demon’s internal struggle across the room. “I don’t think I need anything, at least not yet.”

Your words break Satan’s trance slightly as he nods, eyes moving back up to meet yours.

“Do let me know, in any case.”

“Of course.”

Sighing once more, your gaze returns to the mass of papers and notebooks before you, reaching for your Devildom History binder. Flipping it open to the period right after the Celestial War, each time period labelled painstakingly carefully, you begin to read over highlights of important events.

“MC!”

Satan’s voice calls out to you again from across the room and your eyes flit up to look up at him.

“Yeah?” you ask, wondering what he wants to tell you.

“I am glad you’re in here, and not around my brothers,” Satan says slowly. “I would stay away from them as much as you can over the next several days. They…are not always capable of exercising as much control as I am.”

“Ah.” The heavy implication behind his words is not lost on you, and you nod in understanding.

You had been in the Devildom for a few months now, and demon heat cycles had already passed. For a brief moment, you wonder why Satan is choosing to warn you now, but decide not to question it, instead choosing to be grateful for his looking out for you.

“Of course. Thank you, Satan.”

The demon watches as you return to your notes before turning to his book before him, settling back in his chair. The heat from the fireplace, coupled with the smell of wood burning, wafts towards him in gentle waves. He feels the tension melt away from his shoulders, relaxing into the comfort of his book; his serenity. Or so he thought.

Satan looks at the words inked onto the page before him, flipping to the next, then the next; seeing the words but not actually reading them. The carefully-typed words seem to bleed together as his vision blurs, surreptitiously lifting his head gaze once more at your bare thighs pressed together on the chair. He pictures standing before you, pressing his own knee between them, spreading your legs apart and-

No. Suppress the urge, he tells himself, just like he’s done for millennia. So why is it so fucking hard this time? His attention turns back to his book, willing himself to exercise the great control over his instinctive urges he had just told you he possessed, only moments ago.

Blissfully unaware, you continue to pore over your notes. God, I don’t even remember writing this much. Several moments pass as you double-check what the exam is going to cover, scribbled into the customized R.A.D. planner Lucifer had so graciously gifted to you upon your arrival in the Devildom. Returning to your notes, you flip ahead several pages, running your finger down the margins as you go, making sure everything in your notes coincides with the necessary topics.

“Huh…”

Your finger stops at a section with uncompleted notes, brows furrowing together in worry. Fuck. You had skipped out on classes that day with bad cramps, telling yourself you’d get the notes from Satan at a later date before the exam, knowing he’d be the only one who would have notes as thorough as your own.

Well, I can’t exactly ask him now. Pride and slight embarrassment get in the way of need. Pursing your lips together and exhaling loudly through your nose, you scoot the chair back and stand slowly. The hem of your skirt flares as you rise and turn towards the seemingly infinite expanse of books behind you. Your hand reaches instinctively to tug it down, willing it to suddenly grow longer to at least mid-thigh. Maybe I should concoct a spell for that: clothes that get shorter or longer at will.

Satan looks up and studies you carefully as you walk over to the historical section of the library, noting the contemplative look on your face. He chuckles at the serious look on your face, wondering if he should call out to you and ask if you need any help picking out a book. Instead, deciding it would be more feasible to show you, he sets his book down onto the table by the fireplace. His mouth opens, about to guide you towards the more recently-published Devildom history books when the sight of you before him slams his jaw shut.

Just several feet away, your body is bent over as you attempt to read the spine of a book near the bottom shelf of the bookcase, another tome already in hand, panties completely exposed. Suddenly, the rush of cool air on your backside as your skirt rides up elicits a small yelp from your lips, dropping the book to the floor as you hurriedly reach back to pull the skirt down. The fabric won’t move any further down, clearly not meant for coverage when your body bends. You straighten quickly, feeling your face practically ignite in embarrassment.

I'm going to kill Asmo! you think to yourself, quickly and carefully squatting to pick up the book you had carelessly dropped in your haste. Thank God Satan has his nose buried in a book and didn’t see …

The low rumble from deep in Satan’s chest as he growls hungrily tells you otherwise. Restraint, the sweet restraint that he had been so carefully cultivating since you arrived in the Devildom disappears almost instantaneously.

“You little fucking tease,” he growls, teeth bared.

Satan smirks, a predatory look etched into his handsome features as he saunters toward you. His jewel-toned gaze rakes your body up and down, the image of you bent over, panties barely covering your backside burnt into his mind like a brand. You feel your body instinctively tense, watching the way he moves; a wolf that stalks agonizingly slow over to his next meal, knowing the animal doesn’t stand a chance. A slight shiver courses down what feels like each vertebra of your spine, goosebumps cascading across your arms and bare legs in anticipation. You don’t feel scared, no - you’re turned on by the way he’s looking at you, the most indulgent treat ready to be devoured, and he knows it .

Satan’s smirk grows wider, almost turning into a sadistic grin as he nears you at last. His fingers slide gently under your chin to lift your face towards his, his beautiful green eyes even more mesmerizing in the proximity. They look like shimmering pools of tropical water, enticing you to jump in, and you want nothing more than to drown in them; but the blazing, carnivorous look hardens them, their majestic beauty mismatched with the sentiments currently behind them.

“Such a tease you are, little pet,” the Avatar of Wrath murmurs, his gaze never faltering from yours. “I only just warned you that it is the demon heat cycle, yet here you are, bent over in that short fucking skirt like a slut begging to be bred like she deserves.”

Satan speaks so calmly, in complete contradiction with the wanton desires carved into every cell in his body. Oh, he wants nothing more than to rip each and every flimsy piece of fabric off your pliant little body, cock twitching beneath the constricting fabric of his pants, but that will have to wait. Yes, he will wait until your arousal drips onto your thighs in the anticipation, keening for him, your voice laced with desperation as you plead with him to fuck you. After all, he is nothing if not a patient demon, and what fun is it to pounce on your prey without playing with your food a bit first?

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, instinctively continuing to tug down your skirt.

“Sorry? My dear, I am an intelligent demon,” he retorts. “Do you really think of me so unwise, so blind to my instinctual desires that I wouldn’t doubt your sincerity?”

Satan shrugs the green jacket off his shoulders, placing it neatly onto the back of a nearby chair. He takes a few more steps in your direction and leans forward, his lips now mere inches from yours.

“I can practically smell the desire rolling off your tight little body in waves right now, darling. I can see it in your eyes just how badly you want me.”

Satan’s thumb caresses your lip as his mouth moves to your ear, warm breath caressing your skin and smirking once more, watching the way you shiver, the sensation trickling slowly down your spine, nearly shaking in anticipation. You breathe in deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of his skin pressed to yours: the slight musk of old books, and sweeter notes of vanilla and cinnamon lingering on top. Your tongue wets your lips, eager to taste him on yours.

“Now, now, Kitten,” he purrs, amused by your evident arousal. “Are you so willing, so eager for me to wreck you that you’re turned on merely by a few small gestures? Naughty thing…”

A familiar need washes over you, very nearly as strong as his, despite your humanity. Without realizing, a whine spills from your lips in the wake of another shiver; every fiber of your being ache s for him, calls out to him to satiate the hunger. The visceral urge to feel him between your legs, sighing in satisfaction in the deliciously slow stretch of your warmth as he eases into you… If you were capable, you’re sure you would be growling as well.

Satan nibbles lightly on the lobe of your ear before his lips find your neck, placing soft, slow, sensual kisses on the underside of your jaw as he makes his way towards your exposed clavicle underneath the unbuttoned shirt of your R.A.D. uniform. You mewl, squeezing your thighs together, the action eliciting the wetness between your legs. Electricity pulses through you in every rhythmic beat of your heart, dampening your panties with each thump, thump, thump in your chest.

The demon laughs softly against you, delighting in your body’s response to him. His mouth moves to the delicate skin above your collarbone, where he nips and sucks it into his mouth, intent on leaving his mark on you. Each press of his lips on your skin leaves a trail of fire burning across, blazing a path in the form of reddish-purple welts imprinted into your skin. Fuck . You hadn’t anticipated it feeling this good, hands reaching to entangle your fingers in his thick blonde hair, pulling him closer to you.

You are his.

“Oh, naughty, naughty thing. Here I am, having barely done a thing, and yet…”

His words taper off as he runs his free hand down the curves of your body until it rests just above mid-thigh. Inadvertently, you tighten. The spark of arousal quickly turns into a star shower between your hips, each and every sensitive nerve-ending on high alert, every cell desperate to be touched, to be felt .

“...you’re practically begging for me. Just what exactly have you been picturing me doing to you in that pretty little mind of yours, hm? Perhaps…”

Satan’s hand trails to the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your core. You shudder, a tiny moan escaping your lips as he continues to run his thumb across. Achingly slowly, his hand finally reaches between your legs, and he rubs the flimsy, now-soaked fabric of your panties against your heat, adding slight friction to your clit.

“... something like this?”

Your head drops back slightly as you moan, and his cock twitches again; the demon is almost painfully hard beneath his pants, but he’s not done playing with you just yet. No, despite his strong urges, he will be patient. After all, he’s waited thousands of years for a moment just like this. It’s in his nature to toy with you, to elicit those sweet, sweet sounds of anticipation and pleasure from your lips, knowing you’re so far gone to his charms.

“My, my, kitten,” Satan murmurs. “For someone who wasn’t actively trying to get my attention like you say, you are quite wet for me. Are you, perhaps, enjoying yourself?”

Without giving time for a response, he slides a finger under your panties, teasing it against your swollen clit as his lips crash against yours. His tongue presses against your lips, begging entrance; you grant it to him, letting your tongues explore each other's mouths. Moaning into him, you lift a leg to hook around his waist, causing Satan to break off the kiss; a low-pitched growl rumbling loudly from deep within his chest.

“I want you, kitten, I cannot deny that,” he husks. “But when you do things like that, well-”

Satan whirls you around to the table behind you, pushing you down onto it. A knee moves to your thighs, pressing into them to spread you apart ever-so-slightly. His finger hooks under the waistband of your panties, and, with a single tug, rips them off with a loud tear echoing throughout the peaceful calm of the library. Discarding them onto the floor haphazardly, a feral grin twists his handsome face.

“-you make it awfully hard to be sweet with you. Then again, I’m sure you love it rough, don’t you, my dirty little kitten?”

“F-fuck… yes…,” you whimper.

“Well, we’ll have to put that to the test in just a bit. But for now… open yourself to me.”

The carnal desire twists darkly through Satan’s veins as he watches you spread your legs, your dripping pussy on full display. He growls again, louder, hungrier at the sight of you quivering before him, your body begging for his cock without having to say a single word from those pretty lips of yours. Kneeling before you, his green nails find purchase on the soft skin of your inner thighs, digging in slightly. His lips part as his tongue moves, licking a few stripes up your sex. Soft moans against your skin sound from within him as he laps at your essence, pulling away after a few moments.

Satan looks at you then, listens to your needy whimper, fingers curling into the carved wood of the table, an uncontrollable urge to lift you up, slam you against the bookcase and fuck you into it overwhelmingly strong. Eyes glazed over with lust, a blissful, almost mindless look on your face; need and arousal woven into every delicate feature. Blood surges deep through his vein, heart working double time in the visceral urge he feels to make you his - and he will.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, kitten,” the Avatar of Wrath purrs, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your thighs. “I’m going to make you feel so good with just my mouth and my fingers, and you’re going to ask for my permission before you cum all over this table. Then, I’m going to bend you over and make you beg for my cock to stretch your needy little pussy out like the desperate slut you are. Is that agreeable to you?”

“Yes, yes, please …” you whimper. “Please, Satan.”

"Already begging for me, hm? That’s a good girl. That’s a very good girl.”

Satan moves his face back to your core, resuming his ministrations, alternating between sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue around it. Your back arches against the table, reaching a hand forward to thread your fingers tightly into his soft, blonde locks. He slides two fingers into your quivering pussy, smirking against your skin as a lewd cry of pleasure escapes you, knowing he’s got you in the palm of his hand… exactly where he wants you.

“Oh, pet, you taste so sweet for me, like the most indulgent dessert in the entirety of the Realms. Tell me, how good does it feel?”

“S-Satan… it feels so fucking good, don’t stop…,” you whine in response.

“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on stopping, my pretty little pet. Not until you’re properly prepared for my cock and I make you cum all over this table, your face twisting in pleasure, just for me.”

Satan pumps and curls his fingers inside you skillfully, pressing exactly right against your most sensitive spot. The pleasurable pressure floods your body, every nerve ending electrified. His tongue focuses its attention back to your clit, flicking and nibbling the swollen bud, working his fingers in tandem. Eyes roll into the back of your head in ecstasy and your mind is completely fogged over, able to focus only on the demon pleasurable movements.

Hips roll towards his face, increasing the pressure of his tongue between your legs, and he moans against your pussy before sliding a third finger into you. The onslaught of sensations is nearly too much to bear, and you gasp as your pelvic muscles tighten around his fingers, signaling your oncoming release.

“Ngh… Satan, I want to cum. Please, let me cum,” you beg, your voice laced in pleasure and desperation.

“Oh, so soon?” Satan laughs softly. “Well, you’ve been so good for me… so wet, and making those sweet sounds just for me. I suppose I can permit you…”

He places a kiss against your clit before moving his mouth to bite down hard into your thigh, leaving a bright red imprint behind. Smiling at the mark, he nods, eager to watch as you come undone before him. Fuck, does he want to see that beautiful face of yours as it twists in pleasure from his ministrations.

“Cum for me, my sweet kitten,” Satan commands.

Your head rocks back against the hard wooden table as your body writhes, feelings of pure ecstasy washing and shuddering through your body in waves. The grip of your fingers woven into his hair tightens as his name falls from your lips, each syllable pronounced with a moan between. Body jerking forward slightly, he delights in watching the slight gushing from between your legs runs down your thighs in deliciously tiny rivulets as your fluid excitement pools beneath your thighs and onto the table beneath you.

Satan pulls back slightly and smirks, lapping at your essence. Another moan sounds from his lips, tasting your sweet release, intent on not wasting a single precious drop before standing, removing his fingers from inside you. You hear yourself whine at the loss of him inside you, desperate to feel that stretch between your walls, the need for him almost physically painful. He grins at you again, a sadistic upturn or his lips as he moves his hands to his pants, making quick work of undoing his belt and zipper to free his cock.

Watching closely, your eyes focus on him as you come back down from the high of pleasure, collecting your thoughts briefly before the sight of his hardened length before you clouds your mind over once more. You feel nearly light-headed, dizzy with arousal, solely able to think about pushing your hips in time with his as he takes you higher and higher.

Smug, Satan grabs your arm, turning you around. He pushes an arm into your back, effectively forcing you to bend you over the table. His hand reaches around your front to grope your breast through your shirt before taking a fistful of the fabric in his hand, ripping it clean off your body. A breathy gasp spills out of you, barely able to react before your bra suffers the same fate, torn into two on the floor.

“S-Satan! My uniform!” you gasp, studying the tattered garments littered onto the library floor.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” the demon coos, “I’m keeping your slutty little skirt fully intact. I want to watch my cock disappearing between your legs while you wear it.”

Using his free hand to hike the skirt up your thighs, he kicks your legs apart, letting out a loud, animalistic growl at the sight of you, before grabbing your ass cheeks in both hands, spreading you open completely. Fucking hell. How badly he wanted to slam his cock into either one of your needy set of holes, both quivering and clenching in anticipation. Sadistic grin returning, he relishes the power he holds over you at that moment.

“Look at you, spread before me like my favorite book, your needy little pussy just aching to be stretched out and gaping from my cock,” Satan continues, his voice lowering several notes.

Unable to resist, his mouth moves between your legs, licking another stripe up your slit. Lifting an arm back, Satan brings his hand down to smack your ass, hard. A loud crack sounds across the room, and you hiss with the stinging pain. His eyes move to your ass cheek, delighting in the bright red mark left behind, deciding to give your ass a few more smacks. A groan sounds from behind you, demon form erupting, so thoroughly turned on by your breathy moans.

“If only you could see yourself, pet, and see just what you’re doing to me. Your pussy is quivering for me, your body so desperate for me to use you and breed you like a dirty little cumslut. Isn’t that exactly what you are, you fucking tease?”

Satan’s hand moves to his cock, teasing his length up and down your dripping wet slit, the feeling of your abundant wetness coating him combined with your needy moans nearly too much for him to bear. Back arching, your hips push back against him instinctively, whining desperation growing louder, the need to feel him almost physically painful. He, too, feels the urge, painfully hard in his own hand. He needs to be inside you now , his own desperation beginning to cloud his thoughts… but before that, he needs to hear you beg.

“If you want it, beg me for it, kitten,” he commands.

Without hesitation, your lips part, ready to comply.

“Satan, fuck me, please!” you plead. “I need it. I need you. Please.”

His tail snakes forward and wraps tightly around your wrists, binding them together behind your back.

“Fuck, I love that sound,” he laughs, almost sadistically. “The sound of obedience without a second thought. You’re so fucking hungry for my cock and my cum, you’ll do just about anything, won’t you, you slut?”

Slowly, Satan slides his cock inside you, burying himself to the hilt.

“I seem to have forgotten, my sweet kitten, exactly which one of us is the one in heat,” Satan laughs. “The way you begged for me to fuck you and to fill you, my pretty little kitten must be in a heat of her own. Spreading her legs and arching her back, moaning to draw in the nearest suitors, just to be fucked, to fulfill her aching needs.”

You moan, finally satisfied at having gained the delicious stretch of his generous cock between your legs. The sound quickly turns into a lewd cry of pleasure that tears from your throat, slicing cleanly through the otherwise pure quiet of the library.

“Your pussy is so hot, tight, and wet for me, kitten. Such a good little whore. I’m going to fuck you into this table until you cum. And when you do, I’m going to fill your needy hole with my cum. I’m going to breed you like the hungry little cockslut that you are.”

“Y-yes, please!” you hear yourself begging again.

Satan shudders, savoring the feeling of your constricting warmth as he begins to fuck you from behind, watching as his cock disappear between your legs. He groans at the sight, snapping his hips into you at an unrelenting pace. His chest presses flush against your back, lips finding purchase on your neck before biting hard into it, intent on leaving more marks. Each thrust elicits a gasping moan from your lips, and he growls once more, feeling the vibration of the sound against your skin.

"Oh, fuck, yes , kitten. Keep making those sounds for me,” Satan groans. “You look so good like this, so helpless for me. I love the noises you make, taking every last inch of my cock.”

Green nails rake across the delicate skin of your back, leaving angry red welts in their wake. His pace quickens, thrusts becoming more frenzied, savoring the way you moan as the pain mixes deliciously with the pleasure. The sinful melody of skin smacking against skin permeates the room, pushing your hips back against his to meet in a harmony only the two of you know.

His head drops back in pleasure as your pussy squeezes his cock, reaching a hand between your legs to rub circles around your clit with fervor. Your pleasurable cries grow louder with each breath, until their pitch practically reaches a sweet scream. Growing, Satan weaves his free hand into your hair, yanking your head to the side roughly, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Such a noisy thing, aren’t you?” he growls. “Do you want my brothers to hear you, striding through those double doors? You probably do, don’t you? My pretty little slut, so uncaring for having an audience, or how many get to fuck her, as long as they can satiate the ache between her legs.”

Satan releases his grip on your hair, moving his hand to press two fingers against your mouth. You part your lips, taking them into your mouth and sucking on them. He continues his merciless thrusts, working in perfect unison with the stimulation on your wet, now-swollen clit. It doesn’t take long before the fire pools low in your belly once more, your release threatening to take over you before you can even ask for permission.

“I want to cum, Satan, please!” your breathy cry rings out against the sounds of your sins.

“Yes, you do, kitten, because I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?” Satan grins smugly with the words. “Cum for me. I want to feel that tight little pussy milking my cock, my name falling helplessly from your lips as you scream in pleasure. I’m going to breed you like the whore you are, and you had better not waste a single. Fucking. Drop.”

Time feels like it slows for a blissful few moments, your release building, more intensely than the first time.

“F-fuck, S-Satan!”

Your eyes practically roll back as your head drops forward, body shuddering. The wildfire of pleasure roils relentlessly, burning through your veins second by sweet second, every cell in your body filled with the delicious feeling. Satan groans, his own release rapidly approaching. He continues to fuck into you as you cum before giving in to it, moaning loudly as he empties himself inside you almost endlessly, filling you to the brim with ropes and ropes of cum.

“Fuck, Kitten,” Satan pants, his chest heaving as he pulls out of you. “But I’m not done with you quite yet.”

His tail releases its hold on your wrists. Grabbing your arm again before you can drop forward, he gently turns you to face him, pressing his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss briefly before he flips you over onto your back. Hands move to spread your legs, pushing your knees to your chest. Satan observes you closely, peering between your legs; admiring your pussy, his seed dripping a slow trail onto the tops of your thighs before sliding onto the table beneath you.

“I did say you had better not waste a single drop,” he muses, “yet here you are, leaking onto the table.”

Satan shakes his head before rubbing a thumb over your swollen clit. Feeling smug, he rubs just a bit faster, knowing the bundle of nerves is extra sensitive after your release, basking in the lewd noises you make.

“You fucking slut, you’re practically gaping for me. No wonder you can’t even keep all my cum inside you,” he chides, kneeling between your legs. “Perhaps I should help to ensure it stays inside of you?”

Pressing his fingers together, he slides his hand into your pussy.

“That’s my good girl,” Satan praises you, grinning at the way you continue to writhe at his touch.

The generous stretch of your pussy with his hand feels so good, nearly as good as his cock and you moan louder and bite your lip, head dropping back. A bulge appears between your hips as he begins to pump his fist slowly back and forth inside you, the movement causing a few more droplets of his cum to spill out onto your thighs, and can't help but laugh a little.

“Oh, I suppose this just means I need to fill you up again to ensure you’re bred properly, my beautiful little cumslut,” he resolves, voice laden with silk.

Pulling his fist from between your legs, he quickly replaces it with his tail, dipping it into your slick pussy and thrusting it in and out a few times.

"Wouldn't want you feeling empty for too long, pet," Satan purrs.

The ridges play beautifully over your g-spot, and you gasp at the feeling. God, how fucking delectable you look in that moment. Eyes glazed over and blown out with lust, so far gone to him. You are his, but he isn’t done with you just yet.

Satan smirks in satisfaction before sliding his tail out of your wet heat, moving it down and pressing the tapered tip of his tail against your puckered hole. Your eyes widen, curiosity and surprise widening your pupils.

“This time, kitten, I’m going to fuck both of your holes until you ask me to let you cum all over my cock; until you cum so hard , you’re seeing stars.”

Satan presses his tail, thoroughly coated in your arousal, harder against your ass, a smug look overtaking his handsome features as you whine. Your legs fold back, knees pressed into your chest as you open yourself completely to him.

“Do it, Satan, please ,” you beg him, eyes pleading with urgency. “I just want to be so full of you, full of your cock and your cum. Please.”

With your permission, he slides his tail into your ass, grinning sadistically as your head rocks back against the table, clenching slightly, the sinful melody of your sweet moans the most beautiful music he has ever heard. He pumps it back and forth a few times, slowly at first, tapered ridges massaging the tight muscles, working to open you to him just a bit further. Feeling yourself loosen, his tail begins to move just a bit faster.

“Such a desperate little slut, begging to let me wreck your holes. I hope you’re ready now to take all of me, pet,” Satan murmurs.

“I am, I am, just please fuck me!”

“Gladly, kitten.”

Placing both hands on your hips, Satan pushes his cock back inside your needy pussy, lifting your hips and groaning at the way your tight walls quiver around him. He slams into you mercilessly, propping up your legs to rest on his shoulders, allowing him to push deeply, until he can go no further. Eyes move down to your abdomen where he is greeted by the swell of his cock between your hips. Another feral growl sounds from his chest at the sight of it, moving even faster, mesmerized by the way your body bends to his every move.

“Look, pet,” he growls. “That’s right. That’s my cock swelling in your belly, stretching your tight little body out.”

Snapping his hips into you at an animalistic pace, his growls grow louder, demonic instinct taking over; the careful restraint he tried so hard to maintain completely gone at the sight of your belly distending with his cock inside it. He sees red, sees nothing but fulfilling his natural desires in the form of fucking your holes without mercy.

“Harder, Satan, harder! It feels so good, don’t hold back,” your voice rings out, words stunted by small gasps and moans.

The demon growls in slight annoyance, reaching a hand up to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing lightly. His cock and his tail move in perfect sync, sliding in and out of your tight holes, increasing their pace as he fucks harder into you, caring little for your comfort as you bite back a scream.

“Is this what you want, kitten?” Satan’s words escape him in a feral snarl. “You like pushing boundaries, don't you, seeing exactly how much you can take or how much you can get away with? I think you may have forgotten, my sweet pet, of exactly who is in charge of your pleasure here. Perhaps you need a reminder.”

Snaking a hand between your legs, he rubs your clit feverishly. The Avatar of Wrath relishes your cries of pleasure, increasing in volume with each thrust until they near the high pitch of a scream.

“That’s right,” Satan growls. “Keep making those sounds for me, my sweet pet. Now… cum for me for a third time tonight like a good girl.”

The sweet, sweet pressure in your ass and your pussy is too much to bear, and your release slams into you with no warning. Body writhing beneath him, your back arches, electrified ecstasy coursing through your veins as your heart pumps into every part of your body. A high-pitched scream of pleasure cuts through the air, surely loud enough to wake his brothers, but he doesn’t care.

“That’s my good girl, kitten,” he rasps, words stunted in his efforts. “I’m right behind you…”

Moving at a brutally fast pace, Satan chases his own release. It grips him shortly after you cum, and he spills into you endlessly once more, groaning and filling your pussy with his bitter seed. He pulls out of you, slowly removing his tail from your ass and keeping your legs spread, kneeling before you once more. Noting the way his cum continually leaks from your gaping pussy onto the library table, he shakes his head, chuckling again as he zips his pants back up.

“Well, I suppose that just gives me another excuse to have to keep filling you up, hm, kitten?” Satan laughs, reaching a hand out to you.

“S-Satan… thank you…,” you whimper, gazing into the mesmerizing pools of jade sea you have come to know well over the course of the night before grabbing his hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“Oh? Thanking me?” he says in surprise, a genuine grin on his face. “I suppose I have to thank you as well, my sweet kitten. Thank you for taking all of me, and for giving me all of yourself.”

Satan steps back to pull you up to sitting as you pant and try to collect yourself. He wraps an arm around your waist, bearing your weight, your eyes closing in sudden exhaustion. He lifts you up off the table, pressing soft kisses against your forehead. You protest, starting to say something about leaving your notes behind and needing to study when Satan silences you with a deep kiss, pulling away after a few moments with a wink.

“Come, pet. Spend the night with me, and we will come to collect your things tomorrow. I believe a few healing spells and a bath are in order. And then, perhaps, see if we can’t get you those missing notes you’ve been searching for.”

#obey me #obey me satan #satan obey me #obey me satan x reader #satan x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me fandom #shall we date obey me #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #satan swd #swd satan

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misfits1a · 4 years

Text

I CAN’T MAKE YOU STAY. cole johnson x reader, cole johnson x phoebe (kind of; mostly mentioned)

angst

posted. 10 january 2021

notes. wow this is a piece of shit

banner inspired by & template from @cafekitsune

cw. language; death; injuries / gore; unedited

wc. 891

you let out an agonizing shriek of pain as the teeth of a trident y/bf/n had grabbed spears through your middle. you drop to the ground.

y/bf/n releases the end of the trident. just then, cole stumbles in, in the process of telling you that john was taken care of.

then he sees you, on the floor and curled up on your side, one hand gripping the center tooth of the bronzed weapon.

he looks up, his eyes meeting y/bf/n’s, whose own are wide in disbelief.

cole falls to his knees, scooping you up into his arms.

“fuck!” y/bf/n gulps, before turning on her heel and sprinting out of the room.

“hey,” he coos at you, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “hey, you’re okay.”

you’re okay . . . yeah, you’d just been impaled by your best friend, but you’re okay. you’re okay . . .

“huh,” you laugh weakly. “cole, i have a trident through my stomach . . . why the fuck does this bitch have a trident? i swear, i’m haunting their ass.”

cole sniffles, unable to hold back the tears streaming down his cheeks. “don’t talk like that.”

“if you think i’m surviving this, cole.” you breathe, reaching up to take his face in your hands. you run your thumb along his cheek once, twice, before moving over to trace his pale lips.

you’d wanted to kiss those lips since the very first moment saw him. but he wasn’t yours; never was, and never will be . . . thanks to y/bf/n.

“i’m sorry,” he sobs. “i’m sorry i brought you here. if i’d never—”

“i wanted to come,” you say. “remember? i basically begged you to let me come along. hey . . . can i tell you something?”

cole nods, “of course.”

you swallow hard, fighting to keep yourself conscious for just a few moments longer. you need to tell him this.

“i uhm, i think we’re soulmates.” you admit. “when i sat down for the first time behind you in english, you said something to phoebe, do you remember?”

cole racks his brain, trying to remember your first day at mcclain high school. you came in, nothing special— you were wearing a simple hoodie and leggings. you didn’t say much when the principal asked you to introduce yourself, just your name and that you liked y/ff . . . you sat down behind him. then phoebe came in; the teacher berated her for being late. all cole could think about was how hot she looked in her black sweatshirt, plaid skirt and fishnets. he’d leaned over and said, low enough he thought only she’d hear it—

“i want you so bad right now,” he answers.

“those exact words are inked on my upper calf,” you say.

you give him a moment to process that information, watching as his brows first furrow in contemplation then drop in defeat.

“i thought you were the cutest boy i’d ever seen in my life, but when i said my first words to you, you didn’t say or do anything i figured someone who just found their soulmate would do, and i was like, ‘fuck!’”

cole chuckles softly, shaking his head gently.

when he realizes you haven’t said anything for a few minutes, he begins freaking out, shaking your body roughly in his arms.

“ow,” you groan. cole lets out a sigh of relief. “hey, can you kiss me?”

“w- what?” he stammers, recalling those exact words inked on his ribcage. but it isn’t the complete sentence. what follows is . . .

“please?”

he lets out a choked sob, now painfully aware that he was about to lose his true soulmate forever.

the two of you were rare. one in a million people who had soulmates ended up unfortunate enough to be in your positions— one knowing the truth while the other either didn’t until it was too late, or maybe one could have convined the other of their bond then when it was time, they’d know for sure.

but you’d never tried.

you saw how happy he was with phoebe, and you hadn’t wanted to drive a wedge between them. then again, at the time, you thought you’d live a long life, have more time . . . maybe they’d break up and then you could tell him, and maybe he’d believe you, and you guys could do all that soulmate shit like travel, get married, have a family . . . until you were old and gray, and you’d be ready to go, and he’d confirm it.

without another word, cole nods, leaning down to place his lips against yours— it’s everything you’d dreamt it would be.

his lips are soft, and taste of a mixture between the eucalyptus chapstick you’d seen him use earlier and salt from his tears.

you finally give in to your body’s wishes to shut down before he pulls away.

“y/n?” he swallows, cupping your face in his hands. your eyes are closed now, and you’re unmoving in his arms. “y/n!”

he places his ear to your chest, unable to detect your heartbeat. he checks your neck, wrists for a pulse but not finding one.

cole rests his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut. he takes a shaky breath before gently placing your body on the floor.

“i’m going to get her.” he says firmly, nodding to himself. “i promise.”

taglists. @anything-and-everything-20 @allthatgl1tters-1sgold @biqherosix @haley-talks-too-much

#yours truly — xx #ky writes #cole johnson x reader #cole johnson imagine #the babysitter #the babysitter killer queen #cole johnson #judah lewis

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crowtrinkets · 3 years

Text

A World Knowing You Aren’t in it

Prompt request from @mouselungs

*forehead kiss* ty for that sweet sweet angst

I wrote this at 1-2 am after watching a sad movie so uh yea I take my angst v seriously lol

Gender Neutral Pronouns for Apprentice, He/They Pronouns for Asra

Word Count: 2,208

I push my way into my shop, unwrapping my scarf from around my face. I take a deep slow breath of the not-so-fresh air mixed with dust and magical goods long since past their expiration. Wearing face coverings, just to go shopping in the market is necessary but I can't help but miss the days I could breathe in the fresh scents of spices and my favorite pumpkin bread without worry of getting sick.

"Asra? I'm back," I call out. I hear thumping traveling from the second floor and down the steps. A cloud of fluffy white hair pokes out from behind a curtain.

"Welcome home," he gives me a warm smile to which I return with my own.

"They were out of potatoes, something about merchants being scared of trade with Vesuvia," I follow them back up the stairs carrying my basket, sparse with groceries.

"I can't say I blame them," Asra mumbles to themself. I only hum in response, not wanting to push this topic further.

Asra has talked about leaving many times, but we had yet to do so, if we had the means we could but, there's no money in magic that can't heal a plague. Placing my basket on the counter of our kitchenette I pull out the food items I bought. Asra snatches an apple and bites into it but then grimaces.

"This apple is soft, like it's been left out," he goes to throw out the apple but I catch his arm.

"Don’t throw it out, if they're too soft I could make a cobbler or something out of them," taking the apple from Asra's hand I place it in a bowl with the other fruit I purchased.

"Oh, but they were out of sugar… maybe they're sweet enough on their own?" I mumble to myself.

"There's no need to go back out just for sugar, I'm sure we'll manage without it," Asra says with a smile that doesn't reach their eyes. They grab the lettuce I pulled from the basket out of my hand.

"Why don't I put these away while you go take a bath hmm? Wash the city air off of you," I give Asra a short nod and head off to the bathroom to wash up.

Suddenly feeling the weight of my day, running all the possible errands I can at once, so I am exposed less to the outside. I grab a towel from our tiny linen closet and pass by to give Faust chin scratches.

"Have you been bundled up here all day?" I question. She only responds by slithering closer so she can lean into my scratches. Her movement causes a blanket to fall, revealing a pile of books under it. My curiosity is piqued and I pick one up to read its cover. "Nopal Desert" it reads. I pick a map that was underneath it, depicting the better part of Vesuvia and surrounding territories. Nopal circled in ink. I hear Asra humming while he opens and closes the cabinets in the other room. I elect to bring it up after my bath.

The water is hot, almost too hot for my liking, but its burn soothes me in a way. Making me feel something other than the heavy burden that lays on the whole city's shoulders. I let myself sink down until the water cradles my head. Curling up so my whole body is submerged. I stare at the ceiling, watching the steam from the bath slowly rise, allowing condensation to sit on the wooden beams. I didn't bother to open the window so the bathroom could stay dry. I'll do that afterward. The water cups my ears, muffling the already quiet streets outside. My mind travels back to the books and maps I saw earlier. Was Asra trying to get us to leave? I explained in the past that I can't afford to pay rent on my shop and pay rent in a whole new area. Vesuvia is unsafe but the shop is my home, my lively hood. I can't give it up. I lie there, pondering and contemplating until the water has become lukewarm. My body aches after laying in the tub for far too long. After drying off my body and getting dressed I exit the bathroom, not bothering to stop my hair from dripping all over me.

I walk towards my bed, finding the books and maps, untouched, and staring at me. I let out a frustrated sigh and collect the items.

I walk into the kitchen to find Asra nursing a cup of tea, and gazing out the window. They haven't noticed me yet. His eyes stare longingly out at the night sky. Sad and distant. I quietly approach and gently place the items on the table. Asra looks up at me in surprise. Neither one of us talks for a while. I clear my throat.

"What are these?" I motion to the map with the large black circle around the words that very obviously do not say Vesuvia. Asra places his cup down and fully faces me.

"Well I thought we could… stay there, I've heard the plague isn't present there and we could go, we could be safe and not have to worry about wearing face coverings just to go shopping," Asra's demeanor becomes meek the more he talks. I let out a sigh and collapse into the nearest chair.

"Asra I told you, I can't afford to keep my shop if I'm not here to work in it,"

"I can help you!" Asra says, straightening a little. "I-I've been painting masks to raise money, and we could go to Nopal for a few months, I could sell masks out there and you can have a makeshift shop in the desert," Asra reaches for my hand, taking it and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. I give him a tired look.

"Asra, it's not that I doubt that you couldn't help me pay, it's just… Vesuvia is my home, our home, and I can't just leave at the drop of a hat like you," Asra winces and pulls away.

"Who knew you thought so little of me," he mumbles. I mentally kick myself for my choice of words.

"I'm sorry that’s not what I meant," I bring my head into my palm and lean my elbow on the table.

"What I'm trying to say is this is my home and I want to protect it so… I've decided I want to study medicine, to help with the plague," I look up to meet Asra's eyes. Their face pales and they sit back in their chair.

"Oh," is all he manages to say. I sit up fully and bring my hands into my lap, wringing them nervously together.

"I could use my magic to help too, and I want to be able to help the people, just like I did when I had people coming by regularly for magical ailments," I try to say something, anything to get Asra to stop looking at me the way he is. Scared, confused, frustrated, maybe even a little mad. He suddenly rises, his chair squeaking along the floor as it's pushed back.

"Asra please," I say barely above a whisper. Asra walks over the kitchenette and paces before turning to me, expression full of pain.

"That… That’s a terrible idea," he says. I suddenly feel taken aback.

"What wanting to help?" I say. Asra's face twists.

"You'll get sick, you'll… You will get hurt, you won't be safe!" he exclaims, starting to pace once again.

"There are people dying Asra I can't just sit around and let it happen! I want to do something, we can do something, we're both magicians!" I rise from my chair so I can fully face Asra as he frantically paces and runs his hands through his hair.

"How are we supposed to survive then, being exposed every day?" Asra looks me in the eye, his expression one of distress.

"Asra we're barely getting by as is," I motion to the bowl of fruit that I was organizing earlier. "The food isn't fresh, we have to go shopping all in one day so we don't risk exposure, and I am barely scraping by with my rent on the shop!" I let out an exasperated huff, folding my arms.

"I told you I would help you, I can sell masks, I can do fortune-telling just not here," Asra enunciates that last word by sharply pointing to the ground to make their point.

"I want to help, Asra… I want to be here," I shift awkwardly in place looking down at my feet. A lump begins to form in my throat, making it hard to breathe. Asra approaches me and places his hands on my forearms in an attempt to soothe me.

"Please, we can't stay here, let's just leave to where it's safe," He pleads, barely above a whisper. I slowly shake my head. Asra leans into me, trying to look into my eyes. His violet eyes, specked with tears in the corners.

"Why don't I help the people here? A-and you can stay home and make money off your painted masks," I say meeting his eyes.

"No, no no no," Asra begins to speak over me. He pulls away and faces his back to me, running his hands across his face.

"Asra I can't force you to stay here but you can't force me to leave," I say making my voice stern, hoping he understands my point. Asra quickly whips around tears falling down his face.

"Then how am I supposed to protect you!" he shouts. My breath hitches and I take a step back, my calves hitting the chair I was previously sitting on. The room grows eerily silent from his out burst.

"You can't protect me from everything, especially not this," I say, my own tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, I can! If you would just listen to me and leave! We could be safe," he approaches me, hands reaching out to me. I put my own hand up, stopping him from getting closer.

"Asra, I've made up my mind about this I'm not going anywhere," my chest aches, I want to leave with him, I want to leave because I'm scared. But I know I can help these people and I can't let my fears stop me.

"Please, you'll die," his voice cracks.

"If it saves the lives of even just a few people, then maybe was worth it,"

"No, you are too important to me!" they plead.

"Asra I have made up my mind! Nothing you can say will change it!" my volume begins to rise. Asra pleads my name and approaches once again gently grabbing my hands.

"Please it will kill you,"

"Asra..." my heart pounds in my chest.

"I can't live in a world knowing you aren't in it!"

"No Asra!" tears form in my eyes and my voice starts to crack.

"You will die-"

"Then death is better than this life we are living!" I shout. I didn't mean to. But I became so overwhelmed my temper flared-up. Asra takes a step back, releasing my hands.

"Is that how you feel," he says. I can't bring myself to answer, the lump in my throat has grown 3 times in size, swallowing my voice. "Very well," Asra turns away from me. Grabbing various clothing items as he goes. He disappears around a corner and I can hear him rummaging. I take in a painful deep breath. Wiping my tears as they fall. Asra comes back in with a bag, shoving items inside angrily, my eyes are too cloudy to fully see what he's doing but I can tell.

He's packing to leave.

"Asra," I croak. "Where are you going?" my voice comes out pathetically, as I try to compose myself. But my heart races in my chest. Asra ignores my question and continues to put items in multiple bags. All his clothes, his trinkets, their books. Anything they can carry.

"Asra please," I drag my feet as I try to follow him, but I can't stop the waterfall of tears escaping me.

Asra finally stops in the middle of the room, passing me. He has multiple bags on both shoulders. I stand at the hallway entrance and watch him. Faust quickly slithers out from behind me, Asra crouches allowing her to climb up his arm. He takes his hat off the hook and places it on his head. I stumble towards him reaching out.

"Asra I'm… I'm so-" their eyes meet mine, cold, angry, pained. I stop in my tracks

"This is the grave you made yourself, I will not be there to watch you get buried," he says. His voice cracking. Without another word, Asra turns and goes down the stairs and into my shop.

I can only gawk in silence, in disbelief that he actually left. The wall-shaking slam of the door breaks me from my shock. I grip the fabric of my top, just over my heart. Feeling as though it has broken in two. I sink to the floor and sob, harder than I ever have because a piece of my heart has left me.

#the arcana #the arcana game #apprentice and asra #the arcana asra #the arcana apprentice #the arcana fic #the arcana fanfic #fanfic #fanfic request #asra alnazar #the arcana faust #crow writes

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iwillsearchtheuniverse4u · 4 years

Text

See You In My Dreams, Stranger

Sik-k smut | khh smut

Warnings: SMUT! ORAL! (f and m receiving) PUBLIC? (not really tho)

Preview: Meeting a stranger on my night walk down the river turns out to be one of the best nights of my life.

It was one of those restless nights that I’ve been dreading ever since I started attending university. I couldn’t sleep, the thought of not knowing where my life is headed keeping me awake every single night. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t brush my teeth or remember to drink water, I just felt like existence was so utterly useless when all my dreams have been swept under a rug somewhere because I was too afraid to act upon them. I’d been dreaming of becoming a translator but all the odds of the world were against me so I chose some apparently more ‘useful’ business degree that I hated with all that I had in me. Because of my perfectionism I had been attending all of my online classes and excelling at them but I felt empty, I felt like I had been contributing to everything I hated the most in this society. At the same time I was just too afraid to change my major because I felt like I had to do something impressive to the outside world, something that would make people respect me.

Just another night of endless tossing and turning, tears streaming down my face, wondering if life does ever get better than this. I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up, took a few steps towards the light switch in the corner of my one room apartment and pressed it. The cheap yellow light bulb lit up the room. The floor next to my mattress was covered in books I was trying to study from and my notes covered in smudged ink. I had a bad habit of crying while studying, sleeping, listening to music and showering, every activity that demanded me to be alone in my little space that had never really felt like home at all. Not much else was in that room apart from a small refrigerator, a microwave oven, my mattress, a closet and a wooden bookshelf. I also had a tiny bathroom that always smelled a bit moldy if I forgot to spray the air freshener three times a day.

I decided to go for a walk along the river as it became clear I wasn’t getting a second of sleep in that night. I hastily put on my black leggings and a hoodie with my high school’s logo on it. I desperately needed to get away from my own thoughts so I grabbed my phone and my earphones that were tied into little knots as always. I couldn’t afford the wireless ones because my scholarship was kept safe in my bank account where I was saving every last cent just in case I decided to drop out and go move to...run away to a foreign country where my name sounds like a whisper of the distant wind. As I was locking my door I heard one of the neighbors flush their toilets. Most of them were students like me or people living on part-time jobs, I never really met any of them, they were just familiar faces I would probably forget in a year after moving out.

The streets were quiet, only the sounds of air conditioners and an occasional motorbike or a car passing by me. I checked my phone to see the time, the picture of my favourite singer’s face lighting up my screen: 3.30am. Of course other parts of the city were probably very much alive at this time of the night but my area was populated only by grocery stores, cafes and libraries, not a single club in sight. The only lights I could see where streetlights and some LED signs. I headed towards the river trying to untie my headphones. I put them in my ears and decided to lose myself in the beats of one of those hyped-up rap songs. I put the volume up just so it was a bit uncomfortable and let my ears adjust to the blasting music.

I finally reached the riverside and started walking along the flow of the water. I couldn’t hear it but it still resonated with my mind better than the rustling sound of the city. There was a road along the river that ended somewhere within the green forest because the are was populated with some important bird species that I could never remember the name of. I sat on the bench at the beginning of that forest, my mind still dissolved in the loud beats coming out of my earphones. Even though my ears were covered with a thick layer of my long brown hair I was sure the music could be heard by anyone standing within a 1 meter ratio. I didn't mind, it was 4 am, people were either asleep or sloppily making out in a club somewhere far away. Thinking about the things I was missing out on started to become louder than the music and I let my tears fall. I was overworked, overwhelmed and empty, I couldn't keep it in. Not that I ever tried. I had never been good at hiding my emotions.

Looking at the night view of the city on the other side reflecting on the surface of the river, getting lost in my thoughts, I felt the bench move ever so slightly under my body. I looked to the side and almost fainted at the sight of a dark shadow sitting beside me. My heart started beating and I stood up to leave in case it was a stranger trying to talk to me in the middle of the night. As I took my first step away from the bench the person lightly touched the fabric of my sleeve. I looked back at him. I was certain it was a man judging by his broad shoulders and a black cap on his head. I removed my headphones, my heart still beating as if I had been running for the last 3 hours. "Excuse me. I wasn't trying to bother you or anything. I just like to look at the city at night when my head gets all crowded and I can't think straight. Don't go just because of me." His voice was deep and raspy but had an elegant tone to it, it felt calm but distant as if he had been lost in thought. He was looking at me and the lights of the city were playfully jumping around in his eyes but his expression was the complete opposite. He seemed broken. I couldn’t let myself leave him, partly because he seemed significantly depressed and partly because he was astonishingly beautiful. My feet were unable to move, I stood there for a moment contemplating my options but my gut feeling sat me down next to him.

As we were sitting, each on one side of the bench, looking at the sparkly surface of the river my heart calmed down and minutes passed, none of us speaking, just the sound of the river mixed with my music flowing through the night air. "You were crying." He stated with a regretful tone, almost whispering. My cheeks flushed with warmth, I looked at his profile, him still staring at the waves. "I just thought I was alo-" "Don't. Feelings aren't something to be ashamed of. They're just as much a part of you as your legs and arms are. If people feel burdened it's usually their problem because they've never been faced by their own emotions. They just don't know how to act and feel uncomfortable." He talked slowly and didn't bother looking at me. It felt like his words were directed at the universe or at himself just at the general direction he was speaking, he looked so lost. I didn't notice I was staring until he looked at my eyes and smiled. It was one of those crooked smiles, filled with a certain type of worry I couldn't identify. "You can tell me why you were crying. I probably won't remember tomorrow anyway. I can lend you my ears for tonight, maybe I'll forget all about my own problems." His gaze moved back to the view as he sat back and crossed his arms on his chest. At that moment I felt like telling him every little thing about my life. It had been so long since I had anyone who would just listen without the constant urge to solve my problems but just LISTEN. I stopped myself. "I won't let you get off the hook that easy. I have a feeling that you're the one not facing your own problems. Why don't you lean on someone for a change?" I said, determined to make him speak. He looked at me from the side and his head slowly followed his gaze, his eyebrows furrowing just so much I could notice. The anticipation of hearing his raspy voice that felt so familiar and kind made me turn off my music. This man that sat next to me just a moment ago suddenly awakened my curiosity. It took a while for him to speak as we were maintaining a really intense eye contact for what felt as hours. I was able to inspect every milimeter of his dark cat-like eyes. "You're good at reading people, I'll give you that." He smiled and turned back to face the view. "I'm just under a lot of pressure. People expect a lot from me, that's all...and sometimes it can get really frustrating when I can't really reach those expectations. Sometimes it feels like there are so many people doing my thing better than me, it scares me." He put his hands in the pockets of his black sweater still staring at something in the distance. I wasn't sure what to say but he also didn't expect me to say anything. He needed someone to listen and I was there to supply. I asked: "And what would your 'thing' be exactly?" in an effort to get to know more about this mysterious creature in front of me. "Music. I make music for a living." His eyes now focused on his shoes while he bit his lips in an effort not to smile. I finally realized why his voice sounded so familiar, it was freaking Kwon Minsik, Sik-k, Korea's best rapper, sitting next to me staring at the Han river. My hand automatically covered my mouth as I inhaled. I was trying to calm myself down. He probably heard my playlist which was full of his songs and it made me feel so embarrassed, my cheeks flushing with heat again. He tried really hard to hide his cocky smile as he turned his face away from me, looking into the woods on the other side. After a few minutes he asked: "So now are you going to tell me why you were crying?" He was facing me, looking at my eyes attentively like a little boy waiting for instructions from his teacher. I was still to shy to maintain eye contact so I looked at my hands on my lap. I told him my story about how lost and useless I felt in life. I told him about feeling lonely and scared about my future. I told him everything.

Before I knew it tears started to emerge from my eyes again and I tried really hard not to look at Minsik who was still facing me, one of his arms resting on the back of the bench. I cracked. I cracked in front of a man I respected the most. It was embarrassing but also liberating, I was done trying to impress the world. I dropped my head, defeated. Next thing I felt was his warm hand on my cheek, gently wiping the trail of my tears. I froze for a bit, my eyes widening at the sudden proximity of his body. I didn't even notice him getting closer before he put his hand on my face. He was sitting right next to me, the sides of our thighs touching ever so slightly. I could hear my heart rate getting faster and louder. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t control it. I looked at him and he removed his hand, still looking at me with his furrowed eyebrows, a concerned expression drawing on his face. "I'm sorry. You probably think I'm just being childish, crying at something as trivial as my major." I said with a shaky voice. "Don't ever say sorry for your feelings ever again, you hear me? And besides, I don't think it's stupid, I think it's just very important to you. You want to set goals for yourself but you're too afraid that you're not going to reach them so you just let them go. I would obviously tell you to go for what feels right and figure it out but that won't make you feel secure and I bet a lot of other people in your life told you this before." He replied with his deep raspy voice that I loved so much. He was so close. I could feel every breath on the surface of my cheek, his left arm was lying behind me on the back of the bench, it was almost like a hug. I couldn’t think straight anymore, my thoughts were intertwined with the smell of his cologne and the heat of his body so close to mine. He didn't feel like a stranger, he felt like someone who'd known me for years. I buried my face into my hands so I wouldn't make any thoughtless mistakes. Suddenly, he moved away from me, I couldn’t feel the proximity of his body anymore, the cold night air embracing my whole being. I peeked up from my palms. He was still looking at me with concern in his eyes, saying: "Sorry, I probably got too close for comfort, I'm not used to this kind of emotional thing, you know?" I felt a desperate need for physical touch, maybe it was the cold air, the anxiety or his perfect stature or maybe it was a mix of both but I straightened my back and looked directly into his eyes. It was so unlike me to be this bold but my body automatically moved closer to his.

He didn't move even when my face was only ten centimeters away from his. His expression changed, his forehead relaxing, his eyelids closing halfway when I suddenly felt his hand on my thigh. He grabbed onto it like he was holding on for his dear life and it made me want him more. I stopped, looking down at his lips when he pulled himself closer. His smooth lips crashing into mine made me lean back but he was only getting closer until he pinned me to the wooden bench beneath us. It was a passionate kiss, his hands didn't limit themselves to my thighs but discovered the hot surface of my skin under my hoodie. I felt a certain kind of euphoria, the kind you only get to experience when you do something completely out of character for you but turns out to be the best thing you could have possibly done.

As our kiss was getting more heated and his hands were groping my breasts for a couple of minutes the heat between my legs was getting unbearable. I could feel one of his hands roam down to my thigh and up to my ass where he got the grip to grind against me. Our lips and tounges still inseparable, I played along and grinded my heat against his growing buldge until I heard his raspy growls which sent shivers down my spine. As our tempo aligned we started breathing heavily and his lips left mine but relocated to my neck, definitely leaving more than just the incredibly pleasing pain. There was only a couple of pieces of clothing seperating us but the longing was excruciating. I started tugging on the collar of his black hoodie, trying to stop him as his lips attacked my collarbone. "Stop...I can'...I can't take it." I said with a soft voice in between my moans. His hips stopped moving immediately and he pushed himself above me so we were looking face to face, his body still on top of me. The loss of friction left me feeling needy. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to be this fast, I just thought-" I got up and laid a small kiss on his lips mid-sentence. "Come to my place." I whispered in his ear. I hadn't gotten to know this part of me before but that night felt different. Maybe it was the stream of emotions I had just shared with this stranger on top of me or the tone of his voice or the feeling of the cold night breeze but I didn't want to spend this morning alone.

When we finally arrived at my door he was standing so close to me I almost held my breath trying to get myself to collect my thoughts. I swear I could hear his heartbeat like it was my own, his lips suddenly tracing the curve of my neck as I was trying to insert the right passcode. I couldn’t even focus in my own hands as his were holding me around the waist so it took me a few moments to find the right digits. When the holy sound of the door lock unlocking echoed in the hallway he already pressed the knob in a hurry and pushed me inside. Because my one room apartment was so small it only took our intertwined bodies a solid 30 seconds to hit the mattress. He was planting sloppy kisses down my collar bone as I was tugging at his hoodie, trying to set him free of it. He stopped for a moment only to get up and remove it. The moonlight from outside my small window caressing his elegant body, lighting him up from the back like he was some beastly creature of the night taking advantage of my sadness. I couldn’t move, he was sitting on top of me, his face was covered in darkness but I knew he was watching me. "Do you have any idea how freaking beautiful you look in this light?" His raspy whisper made me quiver. I smiled and looked away while my body was hungry for his touch. I wasn't ready to show it.

He slowly got up with his hands trailing the shape of my thighs until he was holding me behind the knees, still looking at me. I felt his hands pull my leggings of as if it was the easiest thing in the whole entire world. He then proceeded to playfully pull at my panties, rubbed my knot and lowered his face to blow at my growing heat, my legs almost immediately trying to close at the sudden pleasure. He held them open while licking my folds twice, trying to see my reaction. I couldn’t hold in my moans and my spine curved in-synch with my breathing. It was something I haven't felt in forever, not like this, not this strong. I grabbed onto his hair and he seemed to read the ques as he got rid of the piece of fabric. His tounge was doing circles around my clit making me see fireworks and probably tugging at his hair with both hands so much that his scalp was in pain. He got me shaking in a matter of minutes and it was the best high I've ever experienced, sending all kinds of shivers down my skin, leaving me panting. He was far from done though.

"You taste so good, baby girl," he said unknowing of the affect it had on me. I got up to unzip his pants (which he more than willingly helped me with). I traced my fingers down his perfect abs to the hem of his boxers and lower, tracing his hard member while inspecting his face. As soon as I grabbed it through the fabric with my whole hand his eyelids shut closed and his head fell back in pleasure. I pulled him to the mattress and got on top of him trying to grind at his boxers, making them soaking wet. Then I got up to remove the rest of his clothing. I proceeded to trace my tounge along his shaft and sucking on his member, enjoying his growls. His hands were grabbing the sheets and the veins on his forearms and neck were starting to protrude. Every now and then a soft "fuck~" escaped his mouth, motivating me to keep going. Then he suddenly stopped me, saying: "I need to come inside of you, grab my wallet." Instead, I got up to open one of my drawers where I was saving a pack of condoms, praying they would fit him. I handed one to him and he was so quick about it, it got me thinking just how many girls he gets to play around with like this every night. The thought escaped my mind when he stood up to hold me around the waist, slowly pulling me back to bed with him. He undressed me, pulling my hoodie over my head only to discover I wasn't wearing a bra underneath. His dark eyes glowed with passion as he greabbed one of my nipples, tugging at it while kissing me sloppily. He threw me on the mattress and got on top of me. My body was heated up completely, I couldn’t even feel the night breeze coming from the opened window. He licked my sensitive nipples a few more times before aligning himself with my entrance and pushing inside of me. The fireworks from before were nothing compared to the utter pleasure I felt at that exact moment, Sik-k filling me up perfectly. My head fell back in moans and my back curved up again. I could have sworn I saw stars playing in the darkness of my eyelids. All I heard him say was: "Fuck..." He took his time waiting for me to adjust and started to quicken his pace while adjusting the angle. One of his hands was stroking my stomach and the other was holding onto my ass. I tried to mimic his movements, increasing the fraction of our bodies. The moans escaping our mouths felt so unholy they made it even more passionate. "I'm going to- I'm close!" I squealed throught the moans which made him go even harder and faster. My whole body tensed up and I grabbed onto the bedsheets pulling them off. His dick was starting to twitch inside of me, hitting all the right spots and I knew he was trying his best to make me come first which was a rare experience. I opened my eyes seeing him focused on me with his furrowed eyebrows, sweat dripping down the side of his jawline. My body was caught up in a wave of shivers, the walls of my pussy tightening so much it got him shaking as well. We were both just trying to ride out our highs with the last strenght we had. It was sweaty and suffocating but liberating at the same time, all of our thoughts disappearing for these unthinkable moments of pleasure. His hot body collapsed on top of me, both of us trying to catch our breaths again. "This was amazing." I told him in between breaths. He rolled over me to remove the condom and, to my surprise, came right back to lie beside me, his arms hugging me from behind. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear: "See you in my dreams, stranger."

#sik-k #minsik #khh #fanfiction #sik-k fanfiction #khh fanfiction #korean hip hop #khiphop #kwon minsik #korean #권민식 #민식 #식케이

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alldayangst · 4 years

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100 letters, just for me (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. PAIRING: uni (fuckboy/frat) Tom x uni reader. Summary: ‘You wrote a hundred letters just for me / And I find them in my closet in the pockets of my jeans / Now I’m constantly reminded me of the time I was nineteen / Every single ones forgotten in a laundromat machine’.

“Walk of shame?” your friend, Camren, sat in the lounge, TV on low as Tom walked with his clothes carelessly thrown on his body, recovered hoodies and jumpers you previously stole sat in a pile as high as mountains in his hands, leading Camren to wonder whether or not it was really the end this time round. “Third time this week!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be back anytime soon.” Tom slams the door behind him as hard as he could, and just when Camren thinks they can get a moment of peace, they hear a screeching sob rip through the air through the walls of your room. And Camren swears they live in a movie; a scratched CD of a bad romantic drama, that replays the part where the lovers face their problems over and over again.

‘My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it’

You remembered the start of this debacle like it was yesterday. You and Tom were in the bathtub and Tom told you to reach inside the back pocket of your jeans, he’d left something important in there. “I’m not ready to get married, if you left a ring in there. I’m only 19.” Tom kissed your shoulder, back cold and pressed against the tub - but he’d been willing to compromise to be the crutch you leaned against, to be the haven you found refuge in. To be the hill you died on.

“It better not be a ring, Holland. I swear.”

“I’ve never met someone who didn’t want to get proposed to as much as you.” He laid his chin against your shoulder once your search become successful, and you found a strip of paper in your trouser back pocket.

“My mouth hasn’t shut up about you, since you kissed it.” You turned to Tom who could only see your face in the corner of his eye, having found a new living situation of the warm, wet slope previously called your shoulder. “Tom, what is this?”

“100 letters, just for you. You’ll find them in every pair of your jeans. I’m with you forever.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and press a hard, loving kiss on your lips, causing you to drop the tiny piece upon which Tom scribbled his message. “Just for me? You stole this from a love letter by Alex Turner to Alexa Chung!” Tom couldn’t take his love-hazed gaze off of you, and kissed you again like he was oblivious to the words you were saying or you were speaking a foreign language he didn’t understand. “You don’t stop complaining, do you?”

Six months later marked the end of yours and Tom’s gap year, and you decided to move in together off campus.

“I can’t find it.” Tom smiled as he shook his head, your orange in his hand as he sat on a stool opposite your lunchbox. He knew you had a presentation that day and was eager to impress, so you’d shoved your most sensible pair of slacks in the washing machine without a care and when Tom went to unload it, his note for you torn into tiny pieces and covered in botched ink slithered out and caplunked into a minuscule puddle on your wooden floor.

“I’m serious, you didn’t write one this time.” You rummaged through your blazer pockets just to check for certain you were right before you turned to Tom with every bit of confidence that he’d truly forgotten to write you a little love letter this time around.

Tom placed the orange back into the fruit basket and opted for a tomato instead. He took note of the shock in your face and the wince you made as he juggled it, and it drew dangerously close to the ground. “Tom, don’t juggle that. If it hits the ground, it will splatter everywhere.” Tom giggled.

“Have you checked your slacks?”

“You think I haven’t checked my trousers?” You turned your trouser pockets inside out with the flare of pride.”You’ve forgotten. It’s OK, Tom.”

You opened your lunchbox to place your orange in, but a piece of red card occupied the compartment usually owed to your snacks.

You held the card up: “I love you from my head tomatoes.” Tom chuckled cheekily, not watching as the tomato rolled off the counter and depicted a large, red splatter on the kitchen floor. But Tom promised he would clean it up.

Tom didn’t forget about writing one love letter, until he did. And by that point, his letters had felt almost as autonomous as the days of the week. You didn’t even have to think about it, they just went by. So you’d be raking through every end of the house, expecting to find his letter.

“Tom, where’s the letter?”

“Huh? I don’t know.” Tom locked the door as if he’d been chased by wolves, looking up and down through the peephole and then giving a satisfied lick of the lip.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“As in, I don’t know - you’d have to look for it darling.”

Little did he know that’s what you spent your whole day doing. And you hadn’t found anyone with sharper eyes or a bigger will to find it for you.

You didn’t find the note that night. You didn’t know there wasn’t any.

“I found one! ‘You’re my happy place’.” Huh. Tom hadn’t written a new one in a while. He must have put a note in both of the pockets in this pair of jeans. These jeans had been tossed aside, barely worn, in fact - never worn since you’d tried them out in the dressing room at the store two months ago. You were in awe of how young love could take you so far, and kissed the tired Tom that laid beside you. You pulled back and caressed his cheek.

“Why didn’t you kiss back?” You asked, too drunk on ignorant bliss to acknowledge the warning signs and the parade of red flags that told you to leave before you got truly hurt. “M’ just tired.” And it showed. His hair was matted, clad to his face, a few shades darker that it usually was due to all the sweat. He took in every breath like he’d never breathed before and kept watering at the eye; the kind of cry you did when even the fatigue wouldn’t let you sleep.

It was inevitable. Three months later, you and Tom broke up. You were freshly twenty, and freshly out of a relationship. Tom moved out of your shared apartment, and you found yourself trying to navigate university with a compass that seemed to only point South. You never had to have friends here before, because you had Tom. It was out of sheer luck that you stumbled upon Camren who not only shared your soul and your mind, but agreed to share your home. Tom Holland quickly became synonymous with London nightlife and out of reluctance to let you go (call it withdrawal symptoms), requested that you continue to see each other as long as romance was left out of the equation. You’d happily obliged and incessantly kept a cobweb-covered carousel going years after it stopped being the main attraction. On the nights you left with Tom, Camren was tossed aside, forgotten like coat in a cloakroom, so it was only fair game that they’d tease and whine at you when Tom left in the morning. If Tom left in the morning.

Tom was ravenous, and you ended up on Camren’s nest of a sofa. “I love the bones off you.” he muttered, and Tom was perhaps too keen to grab a handful of your backside, he docked both hands into both your pockets, fingernails scrambling at little torn pieces of paper. His heart went into panic mode. He squirmed to get out. The piece of paper landed beside you as he forcefully yanked his hands out, feeling like a prisoner freed to a world that was only half of what it was before.

‘I’d be a crazy, blind man to ever leave you.’

The room fell silent. Maybe with Camren’s TV on low, you didn’t have the space to have these moments. To stop indulging in the highs of life and really examine why the lows were the lows.

“Tom. I’m demanding honesty.”

Tom sighs. He’s so different these days, so cold. He unentangles your bodies and huffs and puffs like a little kid who hasn’t gotten their way. This, before you’d even said anything. You don’t know if you can deal with this white noise.

“I just want to know why we broke up.”

Tom chooses to look at the artwork opposite the couch, because his safe place is no longer his safe place. Because now that you’re demanding honesty, instead of taking it when it comes, his happy place becomes his vulnerable. Tom didn’t like to be vulnerable. It’s why he ended things in the first place.

“Well, we’re in uni..” Tom’s not sure if he wants to continue. He can feel the spotlight on him, you looking at him. He’s center stage but not one for attention. He’s suddenly painfully aware of the fragility of his answer, and worries it will go ‘splat!’ and make like a tomato, and then you’ll really never speak to him again. He furrows his brows as he looks down into his lap, twiddling and pulling at his fingers as if they had the answer (they used to) before he says it in the best way he knows how, your eyes boring into him. “We’re at uni, and there’s so many beautiful women and handsome men, and mighty attractive human beings walking around here, and it’s hard to believe one person you met at a stupid age could compare to the pool of people that are here.”

And how it sounds in Tom’s head, how he meant it is so much better to the way it sounds and means to you. Because words like ‘compare’ and ‘pool of people’ highlight how insignificant and worthless Tom felt he was to you. He felt he communicated how he insecure he was feeling. To you? Words like ‘comapre’ only shine a torch on your own insecurities and phrases like ‘pool of people’ makes you contemplate whether Tom was ever unfaithful, and it made you feel insignificant, worthless.

“So, I’m definitely not the only person in your life right now.” Tom looks up and before he can say anything- “I’m not something you can butter up and taste when you get bored.”

“Y/N.” Tom starts. “That would never be the way I could see you.”

“I’d like you to leave, Tom.”

And leave he does.

Two weeks later, you and Camren found yourself in a predicament. “Can you get it out?” Camren had their hand down the drain of your bathtub. Cautiously, they launched two fingers in. “Can you get it out?” You asked again, nibbling lightly on the tip of your nails out of nervousness.

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel that big.” Camren stops their search after hooking their finger around the culprit of which blocked your plughole. “It’s a piece of fucking paper.” Camren sighs a breath of relief. “My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it.”

You breathe in.

Credit for the gif goes to: /dreamyyholland

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oatmilkslytherin · 4 years

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fine line (d.malfoy)

description: it’s notorious that draco and fem!reader don’t exactly get along with one another, so much so that it’s seemingly become a part of their personalities. when a heated argument leads to an even more heated kiss, they learn how to draw the line between love and hate.

pairing: draco malfoy x non slytherin!fem!reader

warnings: none ??

requested: yes / no

taglist: @jud3cardan @dray-cookies

a/n: sorry for my brief disappearance:) requests are open still i love you all

y/n’s pov:

there was a fine, fine line between love and hate. i knew i absolutely loved days when clouds brushed across the blue painted sky, shielding the castle in brief moments of cool shade. i adored the feeling of new ink on parchment. and i yearned for the feeling of the first bite of an apple when they were freshly picked from the trees.

however, i knew i absolutely detested waking up early. i loathed the feeling of dry, cracked hands along my bedspread. and with every fiber of my being, i hated draco lucius malfoy.

it started off as nothing more than his pure distaste for the stereotypes that circulated amongst my house. then, it slowly progressed to his annoyance of my attitude whenever he acted like the spoilt little kid he was. now, in our sixth year, draco and i practically spat on each other every chance we got, never missing an opportunity to spew words of hatred towards each other whether the other was present or not.

today was nothing short of this. draco definitely did not hesitate to rip me into pieces when he caught me sneaking out of my common room past curfew. him being a prefect now, it only gave him more of an excuse to be so cruel towards me. after a while, you’d think i’d learn to be more careful when he was doing his rounds.

i didn’t.

i crept around the corner, one of my hands gliding along the cold stone wall and the other tightly gripping my wand on the off-chance i would run into any professors or the caretaker, filch.

my eyes squinted in attempt to adjust to the incredibly dim lightly that consumed the corridors. each step i took was one of caution, being extra mindful of the echoing walls that surrounded me as my feet padded along the hall.

i knew it was stupid to be sneaking out so late especially when i’ve been caught a handful of times by none other than draco himself. however, the thrill was absolutely intoxicating. besides, when my best friends owled me to tell me they convinced the house elves to make them the most luxurious treats, i couldn’t pass an opportunity like this up.

i turned the last corner before my destination, about to break out into a quiet sprint before my body collided with a much larger stature. i let out an audible ‘oof’ as i found myself pressed against my counterpart, my hands reaching out to grasp anything to keep my unstable body from collapsing. the first thing my hands managed to grasp was the fabric of some expensive-feeling material.

my eyes darted up immediately as i felt two hands wrap around my forearms, gripping into my skin tightly. i gulped audibly as i peered up at the figure, my throat going dry as anticipation coursed through my veins and into my thudding heart.

“y/l/n... why am i not surprised?” his voice made me shudder as i frantically released the fabric of his dress shirt from my grip. his hands, however, stayed resting on my forearms, containing me in our close proximity.

“gonna turn me in now, malfoy?” i scoffed, attempting to suppress the nervousness coursing through me. draco only smirked at my words, eyeing me with an intense ferocity that made my knees buckle.

“actually, i’m not assigned to do my rounds tonight. you’re lucky i caught you and not zabini,” draco mused, his smirk impossibly cocky as he stared into me. i rolled my eyes, attempting to wriggle my arms from his grip, but he was relentless.

“you’re absolutely infuriating, malfoy,” i muttered, taking a step back from him. draco’s hold on me only tightened as he pulled me back towards him, our bodies pressed together so close that i could feel his warm breath fan across my face as i craned my neck up to glare at him.

“as are you, y/l/n,” draco spat back, his cocky smirk dissolving into the usual look of hatred and annoyance he had whenever he saw me. i had half a mind to just walk away and leave the situation as it was, but the other part of me was flooded with adrenaline and the overwhelming desire to pick a fight in the dead of night.

“i could be worse. at least i don’t walk around acting like i own the school just because my daddy’s rich,” i sneered, a smirk of my own finding home on my lips. draco pursed his lips together, his jaw clenching as his pressed his fingertips into the skin of my arm.

“watch your mouth, y/l/n. it’s gonna get you in big trouble one day,” draco muttered, his eyes glazing over with a looming darkness. i didn’t listen to his warning, though, knowing that i had the upper-hand for the first time in a long time in this dispute.

“big like your ego? honestly, malfoy, you-”

my rambling was cut off by his lips on mine. my breathing hitched immediately as i felt the softness against me, my eyes widening momentarily as i felt frozen in place. i contemplated the entire scenario, wondering if this was real life or just some convoluted dream i was having.

after my momentary crisis of surprise, i melted into the kiss, the tenseness of my shoulders dissolving as i moved my lips against his. the kiss was full of rage and years of hatred between us, our lips moving frantically and passionately against one another’s. draco pulled me even closer to him, our bodies now melting into one another’s as he traced circles into the skin of my forearm.

my heart was beating out of my chest, i was sure he could feel it due to our close proximity. never in a million years did i think i’d be kissing my sworn enemy in the middle of a dark corridor hours past curfew. but, here we were. was it stupid to say that i kind of liked it?

draco pulled away from the kiss first. our breathing was heavy and uneven, and even in the dim light i could see his swollen lips and the soft red hue that painted his porcelain skin. he looked just as flustered as i felt.

“you’re absolutely infuriating. i loathe you with every bone in my body. but, merlin have i wanted to do that for the longest time,” draco spoke finally, his words coming out slightly faltered and shaky from his jagged breathing. i could only smirk up at him when he spoke, moving my arms from his grasp and wrapping them around his neck.

“there’s a fine line between love and hate. in fact, i don’t think you hate me at all,” i laughed, making draco roll his eyes. his hands moved to grip my hips, keeping my body pressed against his.

“not at all,” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. i couldn’t help but notice how sheepish he looked in this moment. it was a nice change of scenery considering i’ve spent the last five years staring at his glowering eyes and wicked smirk.

“in that case, i don’t hate you either. not at all,” i teased, moving my lips closer to his once more. draco’s breathing hitched as our lips brushed against one another’s.

“you’re so annoying, just kiss me again,” draco muttered as his grip tightened on my waist. i smiled as i happily obliged, pressing our lips together once more in a much softer, needier way.

after so many years of hating draco, maybe i was just confused where we actually drew the line.

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