#he has to be waiting for some show of weakness from me....

[eternalchiyo]

The Pianist and the Vampire

Summary: A scary vampire captures a young pianist and refuses to let her leave his mansion.

Pairing: Shuu x Chiyo

❗Content Warning: This is a Diabolik Lovers OC x Canon story. Please keep in mind, that it can and will feature dark topics and canon typical violence, as well as sexual content.❗

Chiyo looked out the big window of the manor. The sickle of the moon big, white and glowing against the night sky. How long has it been that she has last seen the sun? She couldn’t quite remember. Even then, seeing it from behind the window was completely different than being outside and enjoying it on her skin. Most of the time she was not even allowed to do that; the curtains remained closed the whole day.

She pulled her legs up on the large windowsill that she sat on and sighed. She didn’t even hear her captor enter the room.

“Why do you keep staring out the window all the time?”

The sudden question made her jump.

“Shuu…” she said.

Over time she decided to drop the honorifics. Using polite tone with someone who kidnapped you seemed very strange. Although it also seemed strange to her to just casually say his name like that too. She only hoped it grated him that she wouldn’t show him respect. Respect he demanded from her, him being a vampire, seeing himself above her.

She didn’t like how he leaned so nonchalantly against the window wall. Too close to her; way too close. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her answer.

“I am looking at the moon, is that not allowed?”

Shuu huffed and pushed himself away from the wall, standing right in front of her now. Clearly he didn’t like the way she still talked back to him, but she couldn’t do anything about it, she still had her pride, even as a woman. And she didn’t exactly want to become friends with him anyway. If she was going to rot away in some monster’s scary mansion she could at least rot away defying it until her last breath.

“You’re always talking back to me, refusing to obey, do you have a death wish?”

Chiyo refused to look at him. “You might have imprisoned me here, but I am not your puppet on a string. I still have my free will.”

Shuu leaned his hand against the wall. Chiyo pointedly looked away.

“You talk of free will… what power do you have to oppose me, you’re just a weak human,” he said.

“Half-human…” Chiyo corrected quietly, eyes trained on her feet.

“Is that so?” he asked.

Chiyo pressed her lips into a thin line and kept staring at her feet. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he’d leave her alone. It only seemed to increasingly annoy the man next to her as he forcefully grabbed her chin and made her look at him.

“Answer me when I ask you something,” he said.

She glared at him. How many times did she have to repeat herself? She had mentioned it before already, but Shuu had never seemed convinced. It wasn’t her fault for being brought up in the human world and leading a mostly human life. All she knew was that her father was a vampire, she didn’t know much else about him as he rarely showed himself to her. Her mother seemed absolutely in love with that man, but she wasn’t sure how much to trust her in that regard. If you fell in love with a monster there simply was no way for your sanity to be completely intact. Nevertheless, she hated being looked down upon by him. Being half human and half vampire at least gave her the illusion of being able to talk to him on the same level, as equals.

Shuu let go of her chin, pushing her away roughly.

“Human or not, you sure are as stupid as one.”

She watched him walk around the room and make his way to the piano to pick up some music sheets.

“I hope you at least prepared for today, the guests will be here soon,” he said.

“Yes…” she said, still not looking in his direction.

Soon after she found herself in this vampire mansion, she found out that the reason she was abducted in the first place, had been nothing else than her piano skill. Had she been a man, maybe she would have been allowed to become a real musician, this way, the highest she could achieve was convincing her mother and her fiancé to let her play in front of their guests at huge gatherings. Who could have known this would inevitably lead to her demise. Maybe she should have had just accepted her place as a woman, quietly living alongside a husband that would have made all decisions for her, caged like a little songbird.

Only that songbirds were not denied their voice.

She wasn’t sure how Shuu had found out or had heard her play, but it didn’t really matter, as it wouldn’t change the outcome in any way. Sometimes Shuu would make her sit in front of the piano and play for hours on end, even whole nights. Every time she’d mess up, he'll punish her in one way or another, mostly hitting her fingers or sucking blood from them, which in turn would cause her to mess up more frequently from the pain she felt.

Shuu eventually left to prepare a few more things for this night’s soirée, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts. It has been many weeks since she had been brought here, surely her family was worried sick. She imagined her mother crying, wondering where her daughter disappeared to. Did her fiancé look for her? Ruki has never been very affectionate towards her, the whole marriage had been arranged for them. His father was an influential aristocrat, but Ruki had a reputation for being quite cruel, especially to his servants. He usually was critical towards her, and they butted heads more than once because of this. Chiyo disliked it when people made decisions for her; a bad characteristic to have in a world where being a woman was treated more like a medical condition than anything. Still she had always been hopeful that they would eventually warm up to each other, she’d hate to live in a loveless marriage for the rest of her life.

She took a look at the music sheets Shuu provided her a few days ago. He really wanted her to play La Campanella in front of a full room of people. She didn’t dislike the piece, but she found it hard to play so many fast paced tunes, and knowing Shuu, he expected her to deliver it flawlessly. Or was he setting her up for failure? She wasn’t sure but hoped it wasn’t the latter; surely he didn’t want to cause a scene at his own event. Although she couldn’t help but wonder why he would host them in the first place. He didn’t exactly seem like a sociable person, so maybe Reiji, his younger, but a lot better organized brother, made him do it?

Chiyo didn’t have any more time to think about Shuu’s true intentions, because Reiji came into the study to fetch her. Apparently the guests were arriving at this moment and her piano performance was to start while they waited for dinner to be served. She rarely interacted with Shuu’s younger brother, mainly because Shuu explicitly forbade her talking to him unless it was completely necessary. In general, she was not allowed to talk to anybody. It made for a rather boring day to day life, given that all she could occupy herself with were some old books and the piano she’d come to hate more than love lately.

Reiji seemed stricter than Shuu, but also more reasonable. She wondered if she could persuade him to let her go from this mansion, although it was probably unlikely.

The big room she was led into was already bustling with people. She heard the faint clink of glass on glass, as the guests started to drink their champagne and wine.

“I trust that you are aware of the proper etiquette for events like these, but just to be sure: do not do anything reckless. You are to entertain the guests with your music, do not initiate any conversations on your own,” Reiji said before he let her enter the room.

Chiyo pressed her lips into a thin line, everywhere the same thing.

Don’t make a sound.

Smile.

Look pretty.

“I know.”

She could feel the eyes on her as she entered the room and made her way to the piano. Most of the glances she got were curious, most likely brought by the fact that she was a new face.  She caught Shuu looking at her. His eyes traveled slowly from her head to her toes, practically drinking in her figure. She had worn a simple dress for this occasion, the only interesting thing about it being the delicately embroidered flowers at the hem. Even though the dress was modest, she felt exposed the way he kept his eyes on her, not sure if her shortness of breath came from her nervousness or the tightly laced corset.

Quickly she tried to focus on the task at hand: she was supposed to play music. Once Reiji announced her briefly, she did a short curtsy and got her music sheets ready.

Playing music was one of the things that always helped the girl relax and get her mind off things. Even while the room was full of strangers, once she started playing, it was as it was only her and the smooth keys of the instrument. She managed to get through the hard part that she was dreading before almost flawlessly. Shuu most likely caught her slight slip-up but didn’t say anything for the time being. The guests clapped once she finished the first song and Chiyo let out a shaky breath.

She provided background music until the last guests left the party. The whole night she could feel Shuu’s piercing gaze on her, it was as if he was staring daggers into her back, and she wasn’t sure why. Did he hate her performance that much? She tried to ignore it and pretended to be deeply fascinated by a speck of dust landing leisurely on the dark lacquer surface of the piano.

The fall board slammed shut suddenly and Shuu was standing right next to her, looking down on her.

“Are you going to keep sitting here forever?” he asked.

She was lucky her fingers weren’t resting on the keys, or she could have kissed them goodbye. It was hard for her to mask her shock at this man’s willingness to hurt her so deliberately.

“What, am I not allowed to do that anymore either?”

She tried to mask a bit of her fear with annoyance.

“I’ll bring you back to your room,” he said, completely ignoring her question. She looked up at him in distaste and sighed. A scene wasn’t something she wanted to make right now, maybe she would get to retreat to her room peacefully like this. She stood up and followed Shuu towards her chambers. Soon, she’d get back to her room, the door locked behind her, so she wouldn’t be able to leave, and she’d cry herself to sleep, as always. It has been a while, but the tears still wouldn’t stop every time she laid in bed.

Shuu stayed silent the whole way and she wondered whether he was angry with her for some reason.

As soon as they arrived, Chiyo made her way to the desk in the corner of the room, to put away the musical sheets. She’d been careless while doing so, because the edges of the paper slid against her fingertips and left a shallow but stinging cut in the delicate flesh.

She hissed and put her left hand towards her lips to alleviate the pain a little. Cuts like these were the worst kind, unassuming but incredibly painful.

“Show me that,” Shuu demanded.

Chiyo shook her head. “It’s nothing, I was careless and cut my finger, that’s all…”

Shuu clicked his tongue in annoyance and came closer, grabbing her wrist and yanking her towards him.

“Why do you have to keep making things complicated and be so stubborn all the time?” he asked as he examined the cut on her finger. She tried yanking her hand back, but his grip was too strong for her.

“Let go of me!” she cried.

“Stop being annoying and—”

Shuu’s attention shifted to the ring on her finger, and he frowned. Chiyo followed his gaze and gasped. She has been successful so far in hiding her engagement ring from him, either taking it off in time or not showing her left hand to him. This evening she decided to wear it to calm her nerves, it made her feel hopeful that Ruki would come for her after all.

As if he was able to read her thoughts Shuu then said:

“What? You still think that guy will come and save you? Pathetic.”

“You don’t know anything about him! I’m sure he’s trying to find out where I have gone!” she cried and frowned at him. Shuu let out a short breathy laugh at that.

“You think he cares enough about such a rebellious woman like you? I bet he’s currently out and about fucking someone else,” he said and looked at her with cold and menacing eyes.

Tears pricked her eyes and threatened to flow down her cheeks. She tried to hold them back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her in her most vulnerable state.

“Liar…” she said quietly. Truth be told she wasn’t convinced by her own words either. Maybe Ruki did not want to get her back.

“Am I now?” he asked while putting her hand to his mouth and running his cold tongue along the side of her injured finger. Chiyo winced at the sensation; it felt so strange but mostly appalling, having her fingers licked by a man she disliked. Having her fingers licked by anybody would have felt weird, but she really didn’t want him close to her right now, if ever.

Her pulse quickened when his tongue went down from her wounded finger, along the palm of her hand and traced the artery on her wrist. She felt heat rise to her face and she gasped.

“Are you also going to call me a liar when I say that you’re enjoying this?” he asked without waiting for a response before he sank his sharp fangs into her wrist.

The girl cried out in pain. He had sucked her blood before, but not like this; she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. This was… different.

“Who… in their right mind… would enjoy that?” she said between shallow breaths and gritted teeth. His dark laugh sent vibrations through her whole arm as he kept sucking her blood. He held her firmly in place and lapped up what little blood had spilled down her forearm.

“A pervert like you, I am guessing,” he said with a dirty grin on his face. She frowned at him but cursed herself for blushing at his comment.

“That was punishment for your little mistake earlier,” he said, “now for this thing…”

He turned his attention back to her engagement ring and her eyes widened in fear. She thought he had forgotten about it by now.

“Time for you to take this worthless piece of junk off your finger finally.”

Despite her protests, Shuu slid the ring off her finger with ease and put it into his pocket. Surely he was going to throw it away somewhere Chiyo would never be able to find it again. It made her feel even more hopeless, having the only thing she had left, that still held some memories of home, taken from her. It filled her with despair seeing it gone.

Shuu took her left ring finger into his mouth and forcefully bit the place where her engagement ring sat on previously, making Chiyo hiss in pain. Once he was done he proudly looked at the result. A ring of teeth marks now adorning the finger.

“This should be enough for now to remind you who you belong to,” he said.

Chiyo couldn’t say anything in return, all fight had left her for tonight.

“You better rest up now, I want to listen to you play the piano again tomorrow. Don’t make mistakes next time.”

With that he left the room and locked it as always. Chiyo slumped down onto the floor, a huge sob running through her whole body. That sob was the catalyst for a dozen smaller ones as she cried her soul out. How, just how did it ever come to this? She never asked for anything like this to happen. The tears ran down her cheeks so violently as if she had never shed a single one of it in her life. She shook uncontrollably as she cried and cried pathetically on the cold floor until her body grew increasingly heavy and tired. Her eyes hurt and she had to close them eventually. She didn’t even notice when she drifted to sleep.

She jumped once she woke up. Looking around the room she soon realized that she must have fallen asleep on the floor. She stood up and looked outside. It seemed like she only slept for a few hours at best, as it was light outside; the early morning most likely. Back then it used to be her favorite hour of the day. Back when her life wasn’t… this. The air would always be fresh at this time, and she had enjoyed taking walks while most of the household was still asleep. The moment she looked at the garden outside, she made her mind up: She had to leave this place!

Should she just jump out the window? No, it was way too high up for her to safely land without hurting herself. Besides, the windows wouldn’t budge when she tried to open them. She sighed. The door was locked as well, so she wasn’t able to use it as an exit.

Unless she could pick the lock somehow.

She tried searching for a brooch or hairpin that she could use for her escape. Reiji had provided her with a wardrobe full of dresses that were the latest fashion trend, as well as a vanity full of the prettiest jewelry she has ever seen. She rarely made use of it though, feeling out of place and like this stuff was not hers; it wasn’t after all.

Digging through the jewelry box, she finally found a piece with a big enough needle and got to work. It wasn’t the easiest task, as she has never had to pick a lock before, but she needed to persevere. This was the only plan she had. Her only chance for freedom.

After what felt like an eternity she heard the lock click. She gasped and tried opening the door slowly. It had worked! It had really worked! Shuu and his brother were probably asleep right now, so her only worry were the servants that might be walking the hallways. Cautiously she stepped out, the brooch clutched tightly in her hand. It was so quiet she was scared to breathe, so scared was she of alerting anybody of her presence. Steadily she willed her feet forward, hoping that she would reach the entrance soon.

The hallway was long, and she was on a higher floor than the main entrance. Since she wasn’t allowed to walk around freely she also didn’t know the mansion well, so she wasn’t entirely sure which stairs led where and which she had to take to actually arrive where she wanted to arrive. Her shoes clanked uncomfortably against the hard stone stairs, no matter how softly she tried to set her feet down. Once she finally reached a carpeted area she let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t encounter any servants, or familiars as the vampires used to call them, so far and she wasn’t sure if that was a suspicious thing or not. She didn’t know much about their schedules either, only that one of them would bring her meals at set times.

Finally she saw the biggest pair of stairs of the mansion, the exit almost in her reach. As she began climbing down, she noticed how the walls were full of paintings. A particularly huge one caught her attention – it portrayed a beautiful woman, blue eyes and wonderful blond hair. This woman oozed elegance even when it was only an oil painting. The closer she looked the more she noticed how her features looked similar to Shuu’s. Was this his mother?

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Chiyo gasped and turned around in surprise; she got caught. At the top of the stairs was standing none other than Shuu. She had to act quickly; the door was only a few flights away after all.

Turning around again she dashed down the remaining stairs towards the door. She could hear him groan in the background as he went after her, but she wouldn’t waste this chance, not when she made it this far already.

She crashed against the door, frantically trying to turn the knob, but it wouldn’t budge.

Locked.

Desperately she looked at the massive piece of wood in front of her. Why wouldn’t it open?!

Before she could try anything else, her body was turned around and shoved roughly against the door. With both of Shuu’s hands on either side of her, she was trapped with no place to run now.

“Did you think you could just waltz out the door like that? And then what? Would you run back home and tell everyone how a big bad vampire violated you? Good luck getting that fiancé back with that,” he said.

Chiyo glared at him.

“That’s not even true—”

Before she managed to finish her protest he smashed his lips onto hers. Chiyo’s eyes widened in shock, no way this was happening. She tried her best to push him off her, but he didn’t budge.

“Sto—”

Her protest was in vain, and her opening her mouth only let him slide his own tongue in. Him sucking on her tongue like that felt shameful and embarrassing; she wanted to cry again. The chances of anybody taking her back when another man already had his way with her diminishing by the second.

She put her arms over her head defensively, which finally made him leave her lips alone and pull away a little.

“Please! I’m sorry! I’ll stay here and behave and do whatever you want, just please… please don’t do this to me!” She started sobbing uncontrollably, sliding down the door until she was a crying mess on the floor. Then it dawned on him.

“You…” he started and crouched down in front of her, “you've never kissed a man before…”

Chiyo put her arms down and looked at him confused with red eyes, face full of tears. What was he saying? Of course she had never kissed a man before!

Shuu sighed, an expression on his face she’s never seen before. Was that… regret? He stood up suddenly and reached out his hand to her.

“Come on, let’s talk in your room. I don't want you to sit on the floor.”

Moments later she found herself on her bed, leaning against the pillows. Shuu sat at the foot of the bed, not saying anything at all. Once she calmed down enough she decided to break the silence:

“I thought you wanted to talk…”

Shuu sighed.

“Let me ask you something,” he said.

Chiyo fell silent, waiting for him to go on.

“Are you scared of me?” he asked.

She looked down at her hands, starting to fidget. There was no use lying here, it wasn’t as if they were best friends after all.

“I am scared. Scared of this dark house and being all alone in here. Scared of making you angry and scared of you biting me because of stupid reasons. And I am also scared of you kissing me without me wanting it,” she said, still not looking up at him.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, “I didn’t know you were that inexperienced.”

“But you’re not sorry for keeping me here?”

Shuu shook his head.

“No… because I don’t want to let you go.” He turned his head towards her when he said that. Her breath hitched in her throat at the look he gave her. It looked so sincere and almost… sad.

“I like listening to you playing the piano. It lets me relax and fall asleep. And I also don’t feel like that other guy deserves you, so no, I am not sorry for keeping you here.”

Something in his words made Chiyo’s heart beat faster in her chest and her face get warm. She felt touched at his sincere appreciation of her. For the first time she felt almost seen by someone. A slight grin appeared on Shuu’s face.

“What? I say something nice once and you become a mess? Your face is red,” he said with satisfaction in his voice.

“Don’t tease me, people don’t usually compliment my skills much…”

Shuu leaned back on his hands; his eyes trained on her face. The blush on her face pleased him, she looked adorable like that, but he would never admit that out loud.

“What about that fiancé of yours?” he asked.

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know, he didn’t seem to particularly mind whatever I occupied myself with… but he also didn’t seem to particularly care.”

Shuu seemed in thought, as he played with the chiffon trim of her dress. Then he let out a long breath. “Do you really want to go back? To him?”

Chiyo shrugged and crossed her arms above her knees. Both situations were quite shit for her, no matter how she looked at it. Yes, she would be unhappy in a relationship with Ruki, where she would most likely have to be a docile wife, submitting to her husband. But here she was trapped in a dark house where she was never allowed to see the sun again, much less feel it on her skin. Locked away in this room, with all those dresses and jewelry she never asked for until Shuu would decide to come see her on a whim.

“I don’t like being locked up,” she said, “not figuratively or literally.”

“I feared you’d run away if I gave you too much freedom… so I ended up taking it away from you,” Shuu said. He sounded like he was sorry.

“That’s what made me run away in the first place!” she leaned forward, her hands dipping into the soft mattress.

“I know!”

He grabbed her hand, making her lose her balance. Her other hand landed on his shoulder on instinct. She gasped; their faces were so close now. She never noticed before how long his eyelashes were, how pretty his clear blue eyes looked framed by them. She has never seen the ocean, but she was sure that it would look exactly like what she was seeing in front of her now.

“I know…” he repeated.

Chiyo felt his arm around her waist, holding her in place, giving her balance. It was strange… she didn’t dislike the feeling at all. She let out a shaky breath as her eyes darted to his lips briefly. He pulled her closer, and it felt like her heart would fall out of her chest any moment. She was sure he could hear it hammer, even though he chose not to comment on it. He also didn’t try to kiss her again; even though now she felt like she wanted him to do it? Maybe this time he waited for her to make the first step. To show him what she wanted.

It took all her confidence and willpower to make her body move. She moved her face closer to his and gently pressed her lips against his. A clumsy and timid attempt at a kiss.

Shuu smiled against her lips. “Opening your mouth would make it easier,” he teased, taking advantage of the girl’s surprise, deepening the kiss. His cold tongue ran across her lower lip and traced the fangs of her upper teeth, making her shiver.

“Heh… you are a little vampire after all,” he said and kissed her again. His hands guiding her to straddle him. Her legs landing on either side of him.

Chiyo’s face was burning up from how much she was blushing, a sudden moan escaping her, making her blush harder. She was so embarrassed but was left wanting more. Shuu’s chest vibrated against hers as he chuckled.

“Nice sound… hey, it will feel even better when you stick your tongue out,” he said.

Stick her tongue out?! She wanted to protest, but the way his voice sounded so deep in her ears, she couldn’t help but do as told.

It wasn’t long before she was a moaning and panting mess in Shuu’s arms. She didn’t mind his hands roaming her body, slipping under her dress, grabbing the soft flesh of her thigh, rubbing his knee between her legs. Her head was spinning; she didn’t know what to do with her own hands, so she buried her fists in his shirt. She was sure it would wrinkle terribly afterwards, but she couldn’t bring herself to care enough.

Suddenly, Shuu drew away. She looked at him panicked; did she mess up somehow?

“You look like a deer in headlights,” he said amused.

Then he sighed. “You know that if I keep going you won’t be able to go back anymore, don’t you?”

The fog in her head that was caused by her arousal lifted momentarily and she blinked at him dumbfounded. She looked down, frowning. She had to make up her mind now, stay here with Shuu or hope that she could go back to the life she had to leave behind. As much as she hated the way she was brought here and treated initially, it seemed like Shuu genuinely took an interest in her. His touch was gentle, and she couldn’t deny how good it made her feel. But if she let him continue, her social standing and reputation would be ruined forever, at least amongst the human society.

“I will give you this chance right now. If you say no now, I will bring you back,” he said.

“Y-you mean I can really choose to go back?”

He nodded.

Wasn’t this what she wanted all along? For him to let her go? But then why did her heart feel so heavy at the thought suddenly?

“If I decide to stay… you’ll stop locking me up in my room?” she asked.

He nodded again.

“And I’ll be able to go outside during the day?”

“You’ll be able to go wherever you want at any time you desire,” he said.

His words were sincere, she could feel it. It was almost as if there was another person in front of her than the one she got to know before. Chiyo’s heart fluttered in her chest, a fuzzy feeling spreading inside of her.

“Then set me free…” she said.

Shuu frowned.

“…from the life I’ve led before.”

Set her free from the expectations and bounds of a society that cared nothing for her and her desires. Chiyo was fed up with having to hide parts of herself, of having to hide her passions. To hell with it, to hell with all of it!

She could feel the tension leaving Shuu’s body, as he leaned forward, his nose brushing hers.

“Gladly.”

His kiss was hungry, possessive, different from before. But loving, still so loving. It made her melt in his arms. Soon, she found herself pressed against the pillows again, Shuu placing a thousand wet kisses along her jaw and neck. Her hair, that she had previously put up in a low bun, came loose, pooling around her mostly naked shoulders and neckline.

A loud whine escaped her as soon as Shuu sucked the sensitive spot behind her ear.

“Do you have any idea how sinful you sound right now?” he groaned against her neck.

Not knowing what else to do with her trembling hands she grabbed the linen fabric of his shirt again. Much to Shuu’s amusement.

“Go on,” he whispered in her ear, “undress me. I know you want it.”

She would be lying if she said she didn’t want to do it, but she was still embarrassed; she has never seen a naked man before. As if sensing her hesitation, Shuu kissed her again, giving her the encouragement she needed. Her fingers were still trembling as she tried to unbutton the shirt, earning herself a chuckle from the man above her.

He kept whispering dirty things into her ear, spurring her on. She pulled the fabric over his head, messing up his hair a little in the process. Somehow he looked even more attractive to her this way.

Her eyes ran down Shuu’s naked torso, taking in every detail, running her fingertips along his abdomen, mesmerized by how his muscles flexed under her touch. Hands trailing lower and lower.

“Dirty girl… are you having fun?” he teased, and she snapped out of it. She looked up at him, a sheepish smile and faint blush on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

"Don't be..."

Shuu pulled her into an upright position, his hands getting to work behind her back. It was his turn to undress her now, his fingers working swiftly through the hooks of her bodice. He was no beginner and Chiyo could not help but feel somewhat glad that he knew what he was doing. Still, she felt exposed, chest heaving, her top half only clad in undergarments now. He kissed her again, his arms working their way under the lower half of her dress and the petticoat layers, pulling her hips closer to him. Her own arms snaked around his neck, pressing her chest against his, moaning into the kiss when she felt his hand slide up the leg of her undergarments and squeeze the underside of her thigh firmly. Her back arched in pleasure, making her hips brush against his.

She gasped, breaking the kiss.

“You’re hard…” she breathed against his lips.

Shuu hummed in approval. “Hmm, and you’re wet.”

Chiyo let out a drawn out mewl when he traced a finger along her folds, brushing slightly along a bundle of nerves that made her hips buck into his hand involuntarily. How did he sneak his hands down her underwear without her noticing?

“Dirty girl… keep making those beautiful sounds for me,” he said nibbling on her earlobe, moving his fingers up and down gently.

Every inch of her felt hot, her skin flushed, yet whole body was shivering. Her nails dug into his skin, the sensations making her head spin again. Shuu’s voice rang in her ear while he dipped one finger in, then two. They went in easily with how wet she was. When she looked up she could see right into his eyes, watching her intently, his gaze helping her relax a bit. There were so many new sensations she had to get used to, his fingers inside of her feeling foreign but not unwelcome.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes…” her voice came out as a short breath, body jerking when Shuu curled his fingers inside of her. A cry of pleasure escaped her.

“Good, because I’m not stopping.”

He bit her earlobe again and moved his fingers faster inside of her. Chiyo’s hips moved on their own against his hand, she needed more friction. It was as if her body knew what to do on instinct, the way she moved, making him adjust, so the palm of his hand rubbed perfectly against her clit. She thought she’d go crazy if it went on for any longer. A loud cry filling the room.

“S-Shuu, I don’t think… I don’t think I can take it any longer…!” she moaned.

Shuu groaned against her ear, his fingers sliding in and out of her faster and faster.

“That’s okay, just let it out… you can do that for me can’t you?”

Shuu’s voice kept egging her on, the knot in her stomach feeling bigger and bigger. She fisted the skirt of her own dress, arching her body, pressing herself further into his hand until finally she felt a wave rush over her, all muscles in her body relaxing at the same time. Her hands let go of the fabric she was clutching so tightly before, only now noticing the sweat on her forehead and how out of breath she was. The fingers inside of her moved slowly for a while longer, helping her ride out her high before retracting, leaving her feeling empty.

She whined weakly as she watched him put his fingers to his lips, eyes widening when he licked them clean.

“What? Don’t make a face as if what I am doing is so scandalous while you lay in front of me half naked,” he said with a teasing grin on his face. She grumbled, embarrassed by his words. However, her body still ached for his touch, so she really was not one to protest.

“You know…” he said coming closer again and hovering over her, “I’ve been wondering how this part of you looks undressed for a while now.”

Chiyo gasped when he pulled down her chemise, revealing her naked chest and hard nipples. Even though her body still felt sensitive, she still arched her back again when he started playing with them, rolling her nipples between his fingers and relishing in the beautiful sounds this made her do. He grabbed her harder, massaging the soft flesh of one breast and planting kisses on the other side. His tongue traced her other nipple, and she could feel him suck on the flesh above, causing a red mark to form there. The girl’s breath hitched in her throat when she felt him graze his fangs against that very spot.

“Shuu—”

He sunk his fangs into her chest, her protest turning into a desperate mewl. She has never felt like this while having her blood sucked before. Fingers fisting in his blond, messy hair she pulled him closer. She was so dazed she didn’t notice him working his own hands to remove her skirts. He pulled them over her head swiftly, leaving her bare and exposed in front of him. On instinct, the first thing she did was try to cover her body; however Shuu held her arms in place.

“Don’t hide your pretty body from me,” he said.

Pretty? Chiyo could feel her face heat up again. It’s not like she disliked her body or anything, but hearing a man compliment her – having Shuu compliment her, made her burn with want. She reached up to cup his face and kissed him, taking the initiative herself for once. It took Shuu aback and almost made him lose his balance, but he quickly regained composure and kissed her back.

Guiding her hands down his body to the hem of his pants, he whispered in her ear seductively: “Come on, don’t make me wait longer.”

Curiosity taking over her, she couldn’t help but touch him through his clothes, earning herself a deep growl from him. She felt that one in her core. Impatiently and still a bit clumsily she unbuttoned his pants and helped him out of them. She was mesmerized by the way his hard length looked, already leaking from the tip. She swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away. Timidly she reached out her hand.

“Can I—”

Shuu was amused that she even felt the need to ask but told her to go ahead. She stroked him slowly and carefully, unsure how much pressure to apply. He closed his own hand over hers, helping her find the right pace and groaning into her ear, giving her a confidence boost. She leaned forward and started kissing his neck. His skin was only a little colder than her own, but she could make out a faint pulse underneath.

Suddenly she was grabbed by the hips and pushed into the mattress, hearing Shuu curse above her head. His breathing was ragged, and he seemed to be getting impatient.

“I’m going to make you mine now,” he said.

Chiyo looked up at him, her hands on his shoulders. She could feel him hard against her wet entrance; the thought of him stretching her out and claiming her caused her to moan.

“You’re that eager for me to make you a woman? Don’t worry, I’ll even be gentle,” he said, placing a kiss in the corner of her lips. He slid the tip up and down along her folds, making her legs tremble when she wrapped them around his waist.

He inserted himself slowly and steadily, but it still wasn’t enough for Chiyo to feel completely comfortable. It turned out a man’s length was much more difficult to take than a finger. Tears pricked in her eyes; she really wanted him to fill her whole, but it still hurt. She tried to focus on Shuu’s deep voice that whispered into her ear.

Good girl.

You’re so wet.

Relax.

You’re doing well.

Take it all like the pervert you are.

He took a moment to let her catch her breath when he was finally fully inside her, waiting for her to give him a sign to move. Once the initial sting subsided, she could feel her muscles twitch around him, how nicely he stretched her insides. She hummed in satisfaction and pressed him closer, tightening her legs around him.

Shuu got a hold of her hands and pinned them above her head, thrusting in and out of her. His pace was steady and slow at first, forcing shivers of breath out of Chiyo. But he wasn't able to keep it like that for too long. His thrusts were deep and hard, getting faster and faster the longer it went on. Soon the girl could feel nothing but pleasure pool in her abdomen.

“Aaaaah! S-Shuu—"

“You’re such a dirty girl, moaning like that and sucking me in on your first time. Go on, cry out my name louder. I want everyone to hear who you belong to.”

Moans kept on coming out of her mouth, out of control, a mix of incoherent pleas and his name on her tongue.

Shuu started thrusting even harder and faster inside her, his forehead resting against hers.

“Tell me you’re mine—” he breathed.

“I’m yours, Shuu. I’m yours!” Her own hips moved up to meet his halfway, feeling a carnal need to have him even deeper inside of her. Soon she would reach another peak, she was sure.

He hit a spot inside her that made her shut her eyes tightly and arch her back. Making her clench down on him so tightly that he cursed. He buried his face in her neck, pressing himself deeper inside, his pelvis rubbing against hers.

“Fuck… the sounds you make— You lewd woman.” He let go of her hands to grab her hips and pound harder into her.

“Aah-Haah! Shuu! If you do this I’m going to—”

“Then come. Come for me and I’ll fill you up nicely.”

Desperation seeped into his voice; he really needed her as badly as she needed him. And so she came. Toes curling and fingers digging into his back, leaving red marks, crying out his name in so much pleasure, it turned into sobs.

His lips found hers. Her pussy gripping him so tightly he simply had no other choice but to reach his limit shortly after. His warm seed filled her as he held her in place by the hips, his grip bruisingly strong. She moaned against his kisses loudly, the unknown sensation overwhelming her yet again.

Shuu looked at her as he tried to catch his breath. He looked the most beautiful to her right now, his hair messy, cheeks slightly flushed and his eyes looking down on her filled with something that she could only describe as love.

She looked up at him, a tired but satisfied smile dancing on her lips, earning herself a comment from Shuu. But she was too tired to talk back, or move, for that matter. Eventually, Shuu pulled out of her and maneuvered them around on the bed, so they were laying properly on the pillows and under a blanket.

Chiyo’s head was resting on Shuu’s chest as she listened to his heartbeat. It felt oddly human, this situation. His breathing was steady, as he was dozing off. She smiled to herself and hugged him tightly.

This big bad vampire was not that bad at all.

A/N: Not an Everlasting Spark update but a treat nonetheless! This piece has been sitting in my fanfiction folder for quite some time now, as I kept revisiting it, thinking it is not good enough yet. But I decided to battle perfectionism today by posting! This little one shot is an AU where I wanted to explore a hypothetical situation in which Chiyo would have been raised by humans. I don't remember exactly but I think I aimed it to be set around the 1860s, but please don't expect a lot of historical accuracy... In any case, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!

[coraniaid]

Kendra shows up for the first time in What's My Line? and delivers several speeches about her past and her training to (maybe!) one day become a Slayer that boil down to:

"I don't really remember my parents except as pictures I've been shown, but I do know [somehow?] that they took slaying really seriously and they sent me to be trained as a Potential Slayer when I was very young. I know that if you want to be a good Slayer it's important not to be distracted by things like boys or friends or school or family, and I really want to be a good Slayer. And I know that a Slayer has to work in secret, and she musn't tell anybody else about vampires or being a Slayer (but again, my parents -- yeah, the ones I'm not allowed to talk to -- they really knew I was a Potential Slayer and they definitely approved of me being raised by my Watcher and never seeing them again ... No, I don't know their last names). You shouldn't feel sorry for me, though: I definitely don't feel sad or angry about this at all. My Watcher -- he's pretty much the only person I'm allowed to talk to, I guess -- he says that emotions are a weakness. I am a good Slayer. I definitely don't feel sad at all."

If you take Kendra seriously as a character for even a second, I'm not sure how you can hear all that and not think that something suspicious is going on. I'm not saying the Council had Kendra abducted or had her parents killed -- it doesn't seem quite their style -- but ... if her parents or her extended family (her "people", as the show puts it) know about Slaying and take it very seriously, why would the Council want them to send their daughter somewhere away from them where she isn't allowed to talk to anybody apart from her Watcher about being a Slayer? Was she going to be "distracted" by being brought up by people who were definitely 100% in favour of her being a Slayer? What real evidence does Kendra have that her Watcher can be trusted about anything he tells her about her parents? Why does this sound like the internal monologue of a character in the first third of a horror novel who doesn't quite yet realize they've been raised by a cult?

And so, you might think, this is where Kendra's arc is going to go. Next season is, after all, all about Buffy losing confidence in her own Watcher and the system of Watchers in general. Maybe Kendra will start to suspect she's been lied to. Maybe she'll try to track down her parents. Maybe they've been looking for her all this time; maybe they died in an accident and the Council decided it would be simpler to train Kendra as a Slayer if she didn't have anything else in her life to "distract" her. Maybe this is another Ampata situation, and Kendra's family really did give her up, and when she has some space away from her Watcher to think about it she realizes she's pretty angry about that. Maybe she'll go through the Cruciamentum, and lose her powers for a bit, and ask herself what would have happened to her if she'd waited and trained and gotten older and never been Called as a Slayer at all.

But instead the show means all this to be taken entirely at face value. Everything Kendra says is just supposed to stand in contrast with Buffy's own experience of becoming a Slayer, even though you can't really just reverse "Buffy's parents don't know anything about Slaying" and "Buffy lives with her Mom and has to try to hide her patrolling activites from her" and "Buffy never knew anything about the supernatural or vampire slayers until she was told she was one" and "Buffy still tries to go to school and socialize and date and have as much of a normal life as she can" and "Buffy isn't always perfect at keeping her Slaying secret from the people in her life" and hope to create anything coherent.

The next time we see or hear about Kendra it's literally just for about fifteen minutes so she can be killed off and written out of the show forever. And then pretty much nobody ever talks about her again (except for a brief mention the episode after she dies and a final fleeting reference early the next season. And then in Season 7 we meet Kennedy, the only other Potential with any real screen time who the Council seem to have trained from a young age, who definitely does remember her family and tells Willow about growing up as a relatively normal (if slightly spoiled) child and doesn't seem to have gone through anything like this.

[thefuturewithoutus]

the virgin canon of jon being distanced from everyone even in research days vs the chad fanon of tim and jon building up such a solid rapport they become a two guy package deal. a noted duo. and one day when jon actually calls in sick tim mopes around and complains and sulks dramatically and whenever anyone is like ?!? sasha is like "oh he's just missing his little friend today he'll be fine tomorrow"

[hxzbinwrites]

Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD

Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles

Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.

"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.

"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.

"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.

"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."

"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"

"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."

Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.

--------

"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"

Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.

He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.

"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.

"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.

"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?

"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."

"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.

"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"

"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.

"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"

Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"

"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"

"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"

"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.

"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.

She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.

(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.

But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.

Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.

She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.

"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"

"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.

Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.

The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.

The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.

This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.

The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.

“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.

“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.

“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”

Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.

(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.

Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.

Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.

Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”

(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!

Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?

(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.

“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.

————

Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.

He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”

Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.

He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.

Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.

“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”

Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.

“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”

Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.

————

Word Count 1,524

[ramonathinks]

Say His Name | SUKUNA

Say his name three times and he shall appear, fucking virgins before he disappear.

tags: (18+, minors and ageless blogs dni) corruption, virginity loss, monster-fucking, double cocks, mouth fucking, pet names (pet, my human, female), oral(f! receiving), handjobs, nipple play, fingering, creampies, copious amounts of cum, tummy bulge, sex in sukuna’s domain, overstimulation, mirror sex

notes: early i did originally plan an entire kinktober but lol (18+ banner/divider made by @/cafekitsune. repost from my first ever kinktober 🥂

“SUKUNA, SUKUNA, SUKUNA.” Call it childish for believing in such tales. But you wanted it to be true. Looking in the darkly lit bathroom of your dorm bathroom you groaned, blowing the candle out. You flipped the light switch back on.

You’d been hearing about it all year. But you should’ve known better than to believe a silly little legend like this. But you were a blushing and bubbling mess of a virgin. So hearing of some mysterious sexy man who fucks virgins with no strings attached seemed too good to be true and you just had to test this theory. But really you should’ve known better. You were too old to believe in such things but you were all dolled up just for him.

You’d been waiting until everyone on your floor was gone and you put on your best and sexiest lingerie. You weren’t expecting to wear this for such a man that everyone has described but you were ready. You were thinking maybe for a boy who’s eventually won your heart you’d wear this to give yourself away.

Your hair was down in a medium length silk press, wearing puffy pink ugg slides and a short pink fuzzy nightgown that hugged every inch of your body, amplifying your busty breast all for show. You even went with no panties.

All for him.

All for a no show.

Sighing, you reached for your shower caddy and got prepared to wrap your hair.

But a deep chuckle from behind, startled you. Every fiber in your being was begging you not to turn around. Your stomach clutching with a sense of fear and your mouth running dry.

“Little human.” His voice alone had you shaking but surprisingly it wasn’t all just fear, something else deep inside, something not so pure filled your body. Lust. You were still too afraid to look at him, your knees growing weak as he continued to speak.

“Too scared to turn around but all dolled up just for me. I can practically smell your sweet nectar from here.” He purred, his breath on your neck and you could feel the warmth of his body heat all over you. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” Taking his tongue, he licked up your ear before biting your lobe. “I could smell how sweet you are even before I got here. I couldn’t believe how delectable you smelled.” With hard hands, he softly grasped both of your breasts.

You released a small yelp with such surprise but your tummy fluttered. “Oh, my little human likes that…” He took note, pressed hot kisses against your neck. Squeezing your breast. With rough hands he stroked your nipples until they grew hard.

You were letting him have his way with you and you still hadn’t even seen his face. You moaned when you felt the soft drag of his claws, tugging at your gown.

“Tell me how badly you like my touch female…or I might just stop.” He pressed his hips into yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he was. “Don’t you want my cocks?” His voice was laced with something unfamiliar, he pressed his nose in your hair and did a quick inhale.

Desire pooled in your belly whenever he talked. “C-cocks?” You squealed. “I… I don’t think I can handle such a thing…” You muttered, trying to move away from him, keeping your eyes trained on your feet.

“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw in his fingers and forced your eyes to the mirror. Your pussy clenched against nothing when you saw his face. He was truly a beautiful demonic man. With sharp teeth and dark eyes that ate up your entire figure. There was colorful dark markings over his face and a sickening grin on his lips when he noticed you staring so hard. His spiked pink hair looked so soft that you wanted to pet him. “You desire is all in the air,” His told you. “Let me please you, my little human.”

“W-wait! I-um…” Your voice was hoarse and completely choked out as you stuttered, trying to find any excuse.

“You wish to deny me this?” He palmed your pussy. Dragging his hand all over the mound before trailing lower. “You are truly ravishing… in all these places.” You we’re panting and hanging on to every word he spoke, opening your thighs wider so he can feel you.

“Tell me…beg me…” His hand ran down lower, inching closer and closer towards your puffy clit.

Then he pulled away.

It was awful and your body felt cold, you even almost tripped over yourself, to which he chuckled. “Why did you st—”

Pressing his hot lips to yours he kissed you, squeezing your ass and adding his tongue. His tongue was sucking and sliding in every inch of your mouth, you could barely breathe. It felt so long and so deep, almost like he was in your throat. “I want you to beg me for my touch, I know you want it… so beg for it, or you won’t get it.” He said as he pulled away, drool on the corner of his mouth.

“Please…touch…me…” You forced the words he wanted to hear out. “I want your fingers, your tongue, your…cocks.” You whimpered a deep pout on your lips. He smiled at your honesty and he clipped your lingerie down with his claws in one swift motion.

His thumb caressed your folds softly and he groaned watching the wetness drip to the floor. Slipping one finger inside, you gasped, holding on to his wrist and grinding down a bit. Loud squelching noises filling the air every time he pushed in a bit deeper. “Tight little thing. All for me.” He dropped to his knees and licked his lips once he spread your folds open.

“Pretty little pearl.” He rasped before taking it in his mouth. Your hips buckled and thrashed against his face, your moans echoing and bouncing off the walls. He added another finger, hard. Slamming them both inside of you, stretching you wide. So much cream and slick ran down your thighs, he pumped faster inside of you.

Both of his cocks were leaking and aching but all he could think about was your pussy and just how good it taste. He groaned with his eyes closed, spreading his fingers inside as you sobbed above him.

“Please, please…” He didn’t know what you were begging for. He sucked, putting his entire mouth on you, licking up and down your sensitive clit. He pressed deep kisses before removing his fingers from your insides. He dipped his tongue deep inside of your tightness and he felt you tighten up, fisting your hand in his hair, rocking your hips.

“Sukuna!” Your eyes were filled with tears as he moaned for more of your virgin taste on his tongue. Hearing his name on your tongue had him throbbing but he resisted touching himself — wanting only to come in your tight pure virgin body.

“I’m going to— ah.” Your body snapped and shook but he continued to feast on your insides, his long tongue hitting all your sensitive spots and every muscle, you came around his tongue and he welcomed everything you gave him. Your walls fluttered against his tongue and your hands grabbed even deeper into his hair, toes curling and small sniffles filling the room.

He placed his tongue back to your sore clit and gave it a few more sucks before he smirked up at you, the pretty noises still in your throat as you tried your hardest to be quiet. Looking up at you with such desire that you felt yourself shrinking. “I was waiting so long for you…” He told you, standing to his full height. “Don’t know if I can let you go this time…”

You didn’t understand. You were still reeling down from such an orgasm. He inhaled against your neck. “Pretty little human. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Too precious.” He took your lips again and you closed your eyes deeply, gripping his arm as you tasting yourself on his tongue.

When you finally pulled back and opened your eyes, you didn’t know where you were. All darkness surrounded you, dimly lit candles and a beautifully made canopy bed with dark sheets. You could see some sort of throne in the other part of this dark place, which took up almost the entirety of that space. The room seemed to go on forever, almost endless. You felt empty, he wasn’t there anymore. Confusion bled through your mind until you felt him take your hand, dragging you to the bed.

“What did you mean… with what you said moments ago?” You swallowed, trying not to look him in the eyes. But those deep red eyes made it almost too hard to do that. He stared you down before pushing you down to the bed.

“It means you’re mine. All mine.” His hot tongue trailed down your neck and it burned you, your weak legs thrusting against him. He lowered his hips flush against yours and you could feel just how big and thick his cocks were, it was almost disgusting how badly you wanted them. He sniffed and did a devilish grin at you. “Why fight it? You called me here. I have you. Don’t tell me you’re still scared… I won’t hurt you.” He promised.

The way his eyes held such sincerity you couldn’t look away. The flimsy material he wore, slipped off and you got a glimpse of everything he was hiding from you. The rippling abs and those dark marks similar to the ones on his face, you could feel yourself leaking when your eyes drifted to the pretty cocks he possessed.

Throbbing and veiny. Angry red tips coded in leaking creamy pre-cum. You didn’t mean to but you licked your lips and he groaned in your ear: “Female, it looks like you want to taste my cocks…” More pre-cum dripped down and you were panting at the sight, something coming over you. With a trembling hand, you reached out between you both and gripped the base of one, he twitched in your hand but you didn’t stop your assault.

He was thick. You couldn’t imagine doing this to both of his cocks at the same time, you needed both of your hands just to cover just one of them. He thrusted his hips upward, sliding himself through your hands with strained moments. He didn’t want to cum, only wanted it to be inside of you but fuck, this was heaven.

You stroked him, nice and slow. Feeling every bit of him and keeping your clouded eyes on his, both of your breathings harsh and in sync, hot and turned on. Rubbing your thumb on the tip, you watched as a bit more liquid leaked out, slipping between your hands.

“Knees. Now.” He rasped, he needed to be in your tight little mouth now. He needed it. You barley had time to move before he was thrusting himself inside of your mouth. “Fuck…ing, pretty little mouth.” He muttered, thrusting his hips harshly in and out of your mouth. His other cock begging for attention, you squeezed it hard and be released a beautiful moan continuing his rhythm.

Swallowing around him, he bellowed. “Fuck!” He had manners and didn’t want to mess up his female’s hair but he wanted you to take him deeper into your mouth. Pulling you slightly by your hair, he buried himself deeper into your mouth. Bucking his hips, you slid your mouth up and down — saliva covering his length — then you lapped at the tip, rubbing your mouth on it before slipping him back into your throat. Moaning around his cock, then you decided to switch to his other cock.

He was amazed and his toes were curling, watching you. He could see just how much of him was buried in your throat. He could hear the amount of sucking and slurping and you still had time to fondle his balls.

He was going to cum. He could feel it in the pits of his belly. Sweet moans leaving your mouth and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a deep groan, he pulled you flush to his hips and came deep inside of your mouth, his other cock jerking and spasming — raining cum on your face.

He looked at your cum splattered face and his cocks grew hard again and he knew the perfect way to end the night. “Need to be inside of you, now.” He didn’t want anything to stop him. He didn’t clean you off or anything, he wanted to fuck you as filthy and dirty as you looked.

And he would.

He pulled down your panties and looked at your leaking cunt. Smiling in delight, “All this just from sucking my cocks…naughty girl.” He lined up both of his cocks to your small hole.

“Both of them?!” You squealed with wide eyes. “They can’t both fit…” You swallowed hard and he did a roar of heavy laughter.

“Gonna just stretch you out with this one,” He rubbed his throbbing tip along your slippery glistening folds as you cried out. “Then once you’re all full, gonna add my other cock and make you cum all night, my little human.”

He lined himself back against your tight heat, almost slipping inside, he eyed your face before he thrusted forward and buried himself inside of your virgin flesh. Your nails were digging into him as you screamed, it hurt bad.

He was so massive inside of you and your walls wouldn’t let him go, clinging to him. “So damn tight.” He groaned, his hips snapped and with each thrust he was able to get deeper and deeper.

He couldn’t bare to look at you, hearing your small sniffles was hard enough. He wanted this pleasurable for you. His fingers were fast on their way to your little clit that was already throbbing for his attention, he pressed two of them against you and felt you roll your hips against his with a sharp moan, “Ah!”

He did a few sloppy thrust, his balls hitting the cusp of your ass and he could tell that you were feeling good based off how you were reacting. “Please make me cum.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Now with a newer angle he pressed deep into a gooey wetness that had your tongue out and you squeezing his cock even better than before.

He slammed his cock inside of you, now going at any intense speed. Rocking his hips into yours, trying to hit your sweet spot again. He pressed deeper inside of you, bottoming out. “Say my name.” He told you, softly against your lips before claiming them. His thrust going hard and reckless, stretching you out.

You felt so full, he reached down and jerked his other cock. Squeezing the tip and continuing to thrust faster, rocking the bed. “Say my name.” He said again, his hips slamming down on yours. He felt heavy inside of you and you couldn’t focus on him, drowning in a warmth of endless pleasure.

He bucked his hips and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up — to look into the mirror above you, watching yourself getting fucked before saying again: “Say my name.” This time annoyed and with a growl.

“Sukuna!” He pumped his cock inside of your little pussy, stretching it just for him and thrusting more — the hold your cunt had on his cock made him bite his lip when he withdrew himself slightly before slamming back inside.

Your eyes roll back when his tip hits your special spot again and your moans has him in a chokehold, “Sukuna, right there, please… again.” You arch your back and he grips your waist, pushing you back down into the mattress.

With a last long thrust, he fills your cervix with creamy cum that leaks out of you. His other cock bobbling before spraying you down as well, you clench around him for the final time and almost breathlessly you say his name again.

Body weak and your eyes fluttering. He pulls you closer to him and kisses your lips.

“My little human stuffed with my cum.” He purrs, wrapping a strong arm around you and you say something that he can’t hear as you drift and drift…

And drift to sleep.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Escape the Friendzone 2/4 (Word count 5.3 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Massive arms go about her as she's pulled against a lean chest. It's an awkward, tense hug. He smells of open air and coppice, with a whiff of acrid sweat on top as she lays her head somewhere between the bumps of muscle of a warm chest.

Not even the body heat makes him appear more human: his heart is not pounding as fast as she thought it would after making it clear he would score some tonight.

She fears she's dealing with a sociopath. Might even be a psychopath.

"Are you still afraid?"

"I don't know." Her breaths are everything but steady as she inhales the intoxicating scent of a madman.

"Don't be scared. I will only hurt those who wish to hurt you."

His pledge renders her weak; it makes her legs shake. She gets far more than she bargained for when pulling him in to give her a little late-night comfort.

Friends with benefits is a situation bad enough, but this is not okay. The guy's fixation seems boundless, and if she tries to wriggle out of this… relationship and starts seeing someone else, it might end up in König scrubbing the potential future love interest's guts off his shoes.

And something in the idea isn't even wholly appalling.

Good God…

"I don't want you to hurt anyone," she whispers like it isn't his day-to-day job – to hurt and kill people. She is on the verge of collapsing to the floor and stays upright only because he holds her in authoritarian embrace.

"Little angel, it's what I do." He releases her only enough to bow his head and look into her eyes. His stare betrays slight distaste. Those eyes are calm mirrors of how can someone be so naive.

"You come to me if someone is mean to you," he orders in a stern voice that makes her feel faint.

"Alright," she breathes a fluent little lie. He's satisfied with her answer, however, and presses her head back against him with effortless control.

She imagines him knifing someone with a listless stare from sparing a glance her way; she fantasizes him strangling some chauvinistic moron in the darkness after they have been "mean" to her. Quickening breaths betray her sick thoughts to him because he pulls her even closer. She can feel the enormous cock pressing against her body with a promise of violence.

"Angel… I wish you would stop teasing me."

"Yeah?" Her laugh is restrained, and her heart is racing inside her chest – like it's some kind of a good idea to have a heart attack while a murderous psycho turning into a boyfriend is in the same room with her. "Where's the fun in that…?"

"Do you always tease men like this?"

"No," she swallows a mouthful of woodland and musk. "Just you."

"Hm."

"König… Can I see your face?"

The man finally seems to find his reserve again. He detaches from her, and she can hear the audible gulp inside the hood.

"Maybe later."

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other like he usually does when he's a bit nervous. Probably to ease the discomfort from still being forced into those pants with such an astoundingly large, swelling erection, too.

She can't come up with anything that might explain why the man is so uncomfortable with showing his face. From the small glimpse she saw in the showers, everything looked completely normal. There is some other reason why he wants to wear the mask, most likely some mental block, and she would simply have to wait until he's ready and willing to take it off.

"How about a kiss?"

He doesn't shake his head or escape her as she hesitantly steps toward him and raises a hand to the hem of his hood.

"If I just…"

He does nothing as she starts to raise the mask. The look in his eyes is somewhat haunted, though.

She lifts it just enough to reveal a clean-shaven chin and a pair of thin, tightly shut lips. She briefly notices that there's a scar on his jaw before his mouth opens to call her in. They're polar opposites of each other: she feels breathless and limp when their lips meet while he's a statue of rigid power. Even his mouth is tense as she catches his bottom lip between hers and tries to soften that immortal stiffness. Distant notes of hops catch her tongue just before he pulls her back into a crushing hug.

The guy is not the most perfect kisser. He's very avid, though. In fact, his eagerness is what makes it a scary experience, what makes the kiss clumsy. He smashes his lips on hers with force, then opens his mouth so wide she fears he will devour half her face.

The ungloved hands slide down her back and cup her ass. He's gentle, but she still feels like she's levitating, half an inch above the ground from his groping. He moans like they are already having sex, but before she can disconnect herself from the violent kiss, he does it for her.

"I want to fuck you," he pants across her lips, eyes half-lidded and drunk. "Can I fuck you?"

The man has no conception of how to dance these dances. He simply declares his wish to shove his junk inside her and kill those who might do her harm. She feels dizzy in his arms, like dew that will evaporate under too much heat.

"Yeah, yes," she tries to sound sane, although there's nothing sane about this.

So much for being just friends or being nothing at all…

Her heart is beating faster and faster; it wants to rend itself out of her chest. She feels ample sweat between her thighs, then realizes it's only her own wetness that has broken through the cotton of her underwear. The dress is so tight in the middle that she can't simply try and throw it over her head, and the buttons at the front seem to have suddenly become too big to slip through the holes.

He doesn't take any of his clothes off while watching her undress. The instant she opens her whimsical veil of blooms, he moves close and shoves the fabric down her shoulders so that it drops sadly on the floor. Then he flicks a knife out.

Shit… Shit what the fuck–

"No–Don't–!"

The blade is forced with a flat surface under the middle of her bra. He pulls the fabric away, turns the blade - it's a miracle she's not bleeding by the time he cuts through the center front like it's butter. Her breasts fall free, and the destroyed lingerie hangs cheaply on the side before it gets dragged away too. She looks at his work, her exposed tits and the crude, fat knife he swiftly returns to its sheath.

"That was my favorite br–ah…"

The man is terrifying, even when he sinks to his knees. He dives for her breasts, licks the undersides and sucks her nipples like he's famished. Her head rolls back, and she feels fainter still as he gropes her like she's his toy, chews a nipple until she shudders and cries in pain. Then he goes down, down, panting hot breaths on her skin as he goes, the hood grazing and tickling her skin.

His hands shake slightly as he tears down the last piece of covering fabric from between her legs. She can't even step out of the briefs before a blazing tongue is pushed to her clit, all but delicately.

Perhaps he's not a virgin, but he's not a veteran, either – still, it draws a filthy moan out of her.

She has to take support from his head to prevent herself from falling when the tongue simply forces its way between her legs. It curls to meet her folds, slick with her wet. She knows she's practically leaking at this point, and hears how he licks his lips.

"Of course the angel tastes like heaven too," he rasps in her mound, sounding rather… bitter. Almost annoyed.

She thinks it's only the beginning, but he suddenly rises like a Kraken from the sea, like a Godzilla about to destroy an entire city.

"Get on the bed. All fours."

She chokes the whimper that tries to escape her, then turns and crawls onto the bed as if they are running out of time. His urgency is hers now, and she presents herself to him, waiting for the man to thrust in without remorse, but it's his mouth she feels first.

"Uh–Oh my god…"

He licks her with a flat tongue, torturously slow while she's on display. They're long, profound sweeps, as if he wants to sample her rather than give her pleasure. Although he does give her an immense amount of it.

She falls on her elbows, face down on the bed, exposing more of herself to him in the process. Her pussy has been neglected for so long that the feel of his hot tongue on her is absolutely breathtaking, thigh-shaking. She pushes herself back a little, lets him taste his own medicine for once.

And of course it only makes him more unhinged.

"You're wet like a…" he laughs a short, dry laugh straight into her folds, and she finally whimpers at the sound. "You want it so bad?"

"Yes…?"

It's a sad little confession but more than enough for him. He freezes behind her, and something in the way the air shifts tells her he has risen and is now standing high above her as she's in this crudely vulnerable position.

"I've made you wet this whole time?"

She snivels, opens her eyes, closes them…

"Yes," she sobs in the bed, nearly topples, but he grabs her ass and keeps her in place.

"Ach du lieber Himmel…"

She pants and cries in the sheets, but the sobering silence lasts only for so long.

The sound of a belt being opened shoots her skin full of goosebumps. Only a few seconds later, the fat tip of his cock is swept across her folds: it probes for a second, then slides in.

"A-ah–"

"Scheiße… So tight…"

He hisses and goes all the way in – the journey is long and torturous as he stretches her wide. The thickness only grows at the base, his balls are already tight as they arrive to press against her.

And mercy is not at the top of his list as he realizes she has denied her need and therefore, his. He starts to sail inside her, back and forth, in and out, like it's his job, too. It's total torture. She might just pass out before this is over.

"You little tease…" He seizes control of her hips while using her as his own personal fleshlight. The noise of wet, slick fucking is deafening. The pace is upped soon, and he has to use strength to hold her in place while ramming her from standing while she tries to hold on for her dear life and hold onto the sheets.

"Not so fast, König," she whimpers into her pillow, but he won't listen. The pace is frantic, and his thrusts are deep; he fucks her with despair, with anguish-driven, starved thrusts born from greed.

Nothing has ever felt so good, nothing.

"Just friends, eh?"

She has a hard time deciphering whether he is happy or mad. His voice is pitchy, and she knows, she just knows that he sounds equally as unglued on his missions. Perhaps that's why people rarely talk to him.

"Don't–don't be angry…"

"No? Say that you want me," he commands somewhere behind her, desperation coating the air with pungent sweat and musky arousal. "Say it–say it–"

"I want you," she finally cries, and it feels like an absolution. An amnesty. Remission of sin.

There's panting and frantic sound of slaps of flesh against flesh behind her. The air all around is pure electricity. It makes her quiver and throb and squeeze: him, the sheets, anything and everything.

"I will bring you flowers every morning and fuck you every night. Ja?"

His length is the only thing she can focus on; all else dissolves into a hazy mist. The cock glides in her like he's oiling a gun part, and he could ask her to kill someone and she would only say–

"Yes, yes."

He slides in and out with less and less control, moans and grunts with every thrust now. She's already past the point of no return, even though the orgasm keeps hovering right beyond her reach. She only needs a few more minutes. Or maybe just one...

"König… Not...so–fast…"

He answers something in German, an annoyed string of words she has no clue what they mean. He's probably just swearing profoundly.

"Get...what you deserve..."

That's the only thing she can flesh out from the English that follows. He finally finds some mercy with a choked groan and tries to slow down a little. It's even worse when he does that. He pulls almost completely out, then sinks back in, agonizingly lazy, and that does it: the full length of his giant cock slipping inside her without effort makes her walls clench.

"Oh God…" Her back is arching, her toes are curling, a tight cry disappears somewhere in the pillow, and he won't stop with the – "Oh–fuck–!"

"Yeah," he cheers her on as she screams, cries in the sheets while his cock swims in her. His hands dig into her hips, and she barely has brains left to think it might leave bruises. The orgasm comes in waves, shakes, and he won't let go even when she's only a heap of throbbing, soaking flesh and rapture.

And it's not the end; quite the contrary. He continues to fuck her with abandon: balls slap against her with every jab; they must be covered in her juice at this point, making the sound of sloppy thrusts utterly obscene. She's able to stay in a face-down, ass-up position only because he's holding her there for his cock.

The grunts turn into a wide, thick groan as he approaches the edge as well. The pace slows down almost to a halt before he comes.

"Jetzt…kommt–" he groans through gritted teeth, voice all taut while he grinds through his release. It's a multitude of deep, oddly paced thrusts, a sad attempt to get everything he can, and she's still like a wet gulf sucking him in.

The last throes are sluggish, the madness starts to pass, and she feels like every bone has left her body. There is nothing solid left when the man slowly relents and settles somewhere deep inside her. She can hear how he pants with his mouth open, and it sounds painful, wet, almost drooly. Then he swallows with a breathless gulp, slips out, and lets her go.

She immediately falls forward - topples, crashes, crawls on the bed, tries to rearrange what's left.

Just friends...

Yep.

He crashes somewhere beside her, spent and out of breath. The front of his shirt is covered in sweat; the air is filled with the stale scent of musk and saline sweat and pure, mad sex. She can barely catch a glimpse of the slick, glistening length of him. It feels like a miracle that this thing has been inside her. It’s not that it’s monstrously thick: it’s simply long, curving a little to the side, lean and aggressive even when growing soft.

"You play with fire, Engel. Why did you make me wait so long?"

The masked killer beside her is panting but satisfied for now, and turns his head to look at her. She has to muster all her courage to look back.

"I'm…a bit shy."

"You're perfect," he declares while watching her in her sex daze and ruin. So, at least he's not angry. He finally looks… normal, even with that absurd hood still on, with that intoxicated, admiring stare in his eyes. The ice in his blues has turned into melting snow.

"I noticed you the minute I arrived here."

She can't prevent a hand from reaching out at that, from splaying fingers over his chest.

"I noticed you too," she whispers back before moving closer to snuggle him. His heart is finally thumping in his chest, right under her cheek – from the late exercise or their closeness, she can't tell. A heavy arm goes around her, pressing her further into the nook of his armpit.

"You remind me of one of my knives," he says while holding her close.

Oh good God…

"You are a butterfly knife girl."

"Oh?"

"Ja. Small and cute and a lot of fun. And I can't get enough of you."

So much for getting rid of the man after getting some d. God, what was wrong with her? Any other woman would have put up some boundaries, perhaps gotten a restraining order by now.

"Is it… a good knife?" Her voice comes out as an annoying squeal, and he pulls her closer, ever closer.

"I mainly use it for playing."

She wets her lips in an attempt to calm herself, to comfort herself. She’s just another plaything for a murderer whose hunger seems endless, even if he’s more civil now. Still, she fears this man is only after sex and violence. Her little dresses and petite lingerie won't stand a chance against such brutality.

"What knife are you…?"

"Classic Glock field knife. Tall and ugly."

Behind the thin veil of indifference, there's pride. It borders on arrogance. She catches a dash of bitterness, too: field knives don't pair well with butterflies, perhaps.

"König, you're not ugly," she breaks their odd cuddle to look at him. "This sounds like a trustworthy knife to me."

He looks back at her with an even warmer tinge to the glacier of his eyes.

"It is. You cannot hope for a more loyal blade."

Her gaze drops somewhere in the darkness of his shirt. He's pledging himself for the second time to her, and it causes another storm inside her head. There's warmth on her cheeks, too.

"You are cute when you blush," he observes with pleased tranquility.

Perhaps... Perhaps he doesn't want to hurt things he finds cute.

Perhaps he will take care of them, like he takes care of his knives.

It still takes some getting used to that he allows his hood to be lifted just enough to push his tongue inside her mouth or pussy but taking it off to show his face is too much. She is lying there with him in an odd post-coital dream, thoroughly naked while he's still fully dressed. But she doesn't feel cold, not when pressed against his blazing form like this.

"Did you nick my underwear?" She asks out of the blue, and the hand stroking her waist stops in the middle of an idle caress.

"I might have," he admits without a single ounce of remorse in his voice.

"König… That's not cool," she says, knowing he can hear the lack of scolding in her voice.

"You want them back?"

"I… Gosh. Yes, that would be nice."

What a pervert.

"Or... Nevermind. Keep them," she sighs, trying to brush off the fact that the underwear in question wasn't even clean. "Do you steal women's underwear often?"

"No. Just yours."

A laugh meant to convey her shock is far too laced with joy to make it clear that she finds his deeds preposterous. She simply fails at every turn in trying to express that she's a decent woman. He knows it now, probably saw it long ago; that she's the perfect cheval glass to his perversions.

The hand on her hips moves to caress her thigh, and the drowsy stare observes her with growing mischief.

"Ready to go again?"

"Whuh–Again…?"

He takes her hand and moves it right over his cock. It's lean and demanding, and pulses under her palm.

Tall and ugly, she thinks while her walls dare to throb with hunger.

"You make me hard," he says, almost as a whisper, "all the time."

Jesus… There was definitely no rulebook when it came to this guy.

She gets to watch from the bed how he gives her a show as the man finally decides it's time to take his clothes off. The shirt is the first one to go: it flies somewhere on the floor while he holds on to his hood. The sculpted muscle looks even bigger up close, and the plates are covered with thin hair. It runs thicker below the navel, and his thighs are pure power: they surround the sleek length of his cock like trunks of strength when he finally gets himself out of those pants.

The v-shape of his upper body is something she will never get over. Broad shoulders shrink and curve into narrow hips which in turn swell into powerful thighs, and while perhaps this guy wouldn't win the gold medal at a fitness competition – judged by the way he's lean and athletic but not low fat ripped – he certainly is the most beautiful man she has ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. He's a demigod with his herculean strength, a titan who's too big for the world of mortals. A tormented Samson who will never be tamed with treachery or tricks.

The bed sags as he crawls back to her like the gentlest predator. Her legs open wide to receive him – a classic missionary feels like the most intimate choice after the faceless pounding she received earlier. He gathers her legs as he proceeds: forces them up, up, almost next to her arms until he's hovering over her exposed pussy.

She should've known that some boring missionary wouldn't satisfy this man at all.

Her eyes drop to her legs and what's between them: she's in no position to do much of anything, but as the tip of his cock – smooth, pristine velvet – slides across her wet folds once more, she rather helplessly tries to drive her hips up to meet him.

It's like she's drunk or in a dream. The scene is wild and filthy: she's plump and spread open, ready for the taking, thighs almost in her ears as he draws his hips back and finds her opening.

"Please be gentle," she begs with a whisper. He halts for a while to lock gazes with her rabbit stare.

"You are pretty when you beg, little one. But I would never hurt you."

She swallows, and her lips part – his gaze instantly falls on her mouth, then raises back to her eyes, gentle and painstakingly ardent. He's close, so terribly close – and not just physically. Her thighs quiver with anticipation as the thick velvet slides in.

Holy fuck–

She savors the spread, and he's gentle, like he promised. The groan that erupts from inside the hood above makes her walls ache. He's so merciful this time, and she wishes to lift the black veil that still keeps them apart, to see his face as he takes her, to see that scar on his jaw and how his mouth hangs open with hunger, just like hers…

His cock comes out all wet – she can hear it – before plunging right back in, and it makes her mewl.

"Oh God…" Her eyes shut tight from the sensation of being so filled. She's even more starved than she thought. It's scary, far scarier than the mass murderer above and inside her.

"You like that?"

He's breathing heavy, and she knows he's looking at her, the distorting face of pleasure, the way she's biting her lip. Tears try to force themselves out from the passionate, featherbrained proximity, from being so tightly knitted together, like a bunch of happy, overstimulated nerves.

"Look at me," he orders, and she opens her eyes like they're under his command and not hers.

"You like it like this?"

She nods with tears in her eyes, and he won't stop looking at her like she's his most prized possession.

"Gut. I will make you scream again."

The man's dreamy stare follows every twitch of a lip, every bat of an eyelash. She looks down briefly to escape that love – the sight of the long thickness disappearing in her while she is so crudely open for him makes her feel dizzy, even when she's lying down.

Some pillow princess…

"Sehr schön," he comments while watching her face which must look like that of a dumb, anesthetized doll. His cock has that effect, and now that he's hovering over her, staring into her soul while filling her, it makes everything even more painful because it's sweet. She's under lazy waves, and decent men seem the most boring thing on earth right now.

"You like my knives?"

"Ah–what…?"

"You stared when I played with my knife."

She knows he has caught her staring more than once and bites her lip again not to blurt out how she had stared when he had played with... other things as well.

"Mh, yeah… It was beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

The sudden waves of intimacy leave her fragile and weak. His stare is nothing short of a caress. She is open and helpless for him to pound to his heart's content, but he's gentle, bordering on loving...

"I can teach you how to play with them."

Jesus Christ, this dude is just crazy.

"Uh-huh," she agrees to it with her mouth hanging open from the overload of sensation. The lewd sound of his cum pushing out of her with every thrust is an obscene background music for this – or any – conversation.

"I have a collection."

Why the hell would he be talking about his knife collection in the middle of–

"I own at least fifty knives. I can show you all of them if you come to my room."

His gaze is at least as piercing as his cock, and she realizes how serious this is: knives are his life. He finds them beautiful too, he collects them and cares for them. They're a profession, but they're also the most important thing in his world.

Knives are his essence.

And he had likened her to a butterfly knife...

"S-sure."

The sound from where they are joined rises to a sluggish crescendo: drowsy, filthy claps of flesh on soaked flesh. He makes her sick and well at the same time: he drags her to hell and raises her to heaven. He's the remedy and the curse. He plays with her like he plays with his knives: ravenous, entranced, obsessed.

She tries to concentrate on too many things at once: that intoxicating voice, the memory of him playing with death, the cock plunging inside her over and over again, making warmth pool below. She imagines him killing people with his collection, picking his tool for the day. He's not the only lunatic here because even the very thought makes her tight around him.

"You are close?"

"König… Just–" she whispers on the cusp of a deeper, soul-rending orgasm.

"You like it when I talk about knives?"

She breathes laboriously and tries to hang onto the last bits of her sanity, but he knows her, knows her already. He weighs down on her until her thighs come to rest right next to her breasts. He's plowing her in a crude angle, indecent and deep. It's vulgar, and she loves it; loves the way he stares at her, all helpless under him.

"Please, I'm gonna–"

"I can show you my guns too."

Ohmygod–

"I'm gonn–ah–!"

She shatters, her walls clench; her pussy sucks him like he's hard candy.

“Sieh dir das an… You were made for me.”

"Nh– Please…"

Her head tosses on the pillow as if in a dream. She's fathomless, and going to pass out, the cock inside her makes her eyes roll back in her head until she sees white, the color of saints.

"Shy girl… Beg for it."

The voice that answers his command is not that of a shy girl; it's not hers at all. She hears it from underwater, and her reality consists solely of the man filling her, spreading her, transforming her from an angel into something deliciously wicked.

Please, just–

It's not her voice, and yet it does sound everything like her. It begs, mewls a plea after the other in a string of helpless little whimpers.

Don't stop, please pleaseplease…

"Besser als jedes Messer…" he rasps, more darkly now. "You drive me crazy, Engel."

A chant arises in her head: she has sinned and there's no turning back. He feels far better than any promise of heaven. She could never have guessed that being cast out would feel so good.

His release comes with a tight rip, he goes taut like in that shower, only ten times more desperate. The hiss under the hood turns into a pained, strained roar of a grunt. The first time was foreplay, a quick one: this is true release. She almost hopes she would faint as the whole body of the Austrian titan goes hard as a rock. She couldn't be more spent and used, and still, her pussy answers his godly essence by clenching around him, pulling him in like he's the best man there is.

The man of her dreams, the man from her worst nightmares...

His eyes are liquid, the waterline twitches. She sees behind the walls, a millisecond's worth of fragility before his head drops, and the muscles are released from the violent trance. Broad shoulders cage her in like she's suddenly deep inside a mountain pass. Spent and dead and gone, there's no hurry any longer: he is buried deep inside and throbs whatever leftovers he has to give her.

She's filled to the brim, crushed under his weight, banished: and it's only delicious, the feeling of her body disappearing somewhere in the depths of the bed he has plowed her into. She waits dutifully as the man gathers himself, even gets brave enough to touch him. The masked face is buried somewhere in her neck, and his stomach ripples with a few shivers as her hand runs down his spine.

"I want to do this every day," he declares softly while panting through the thick fabric of his self-made shield. She feels pure horror and thrill in her chest.

To do this every day… She will eventually break, like a toy that has been used too much. She's not made of steel like those butterfly knives used mainly for playing.

"König, this is crazy… We're crazy," she tries to put into words the unholy mess raging inside her. He snorts before releasing her from the absurd position. The weight of him leaves her empty as he pulls out, then drags his way beside her to gather her back into his arms.

"Don't be ashamed, little one," he coos through the mask. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Two rounds of intense sex have liberated him, the manic terror has turned into a strange compassion. The look in his eyes is magnanimous and tender, almost droopy. She feels weightless and timid, an angel once more.

"We belong together, you and I," he states with conviction that sends sweet dread inside her heart. "Don't worry. You will never be lonely again."

Her fate is sealed, and she fears a big, fat knife will cut her heartstrings too if she tries to escape his protection. Her jaw trembles at the prospect of him returning to her every day to fuck her bare after an adrenaline high on the field. She sees a future of tears and sweat and cum, a beast lulled into sleep amidst a withering sea of flowers and torn lace.

She tries to find the right words, hopes he will be swift and merciful in his execution.

König, please…

It's not the hood, it's–

"Everyone fears me," he sighs beside her. "I'm glad you don't."

[awearywritersworld]

the man who embraced wickedness and the woman he used to know

sukuna x reader summary: sukuna is reunited with the only person who ever showed him kindness w/c: 1.25k tags/warnings: heian era!sukuna. angst to fluff. fem!reader. me trying my best to channel an 1800s romance novelist a/n: part 2 to the boy spurned as evil and the girl of his youth. i am once again asking that people check out the artwork by @demonzaemon that inspired these two fics. they also made some artwork inspired by part one, which makes me scream and cry and yell bc it's so wonderful. masterlist

it isn't until nearly two decades after your last encounter that sukuna finally musters the courage to return to the riverside. as he listens to the rush of the water, he hates the way it makes him feel— like the scared, powerless boy he once was.

he won't get too close. instead he stands at the edge of the forest, as if he can hide from his past among the trees.

he decides he must be dreaming when he spots a woman approaching the river, because even though he can see little more than her silhouette, he has no doubt that it's you.

he'd know you anywhere, in this life and the next.

he has no idea how long he stands watching you before he finally gathers the nerve to take a step in your direction.

you look over your shoulder and meet his eye once he's only a few yards away.

the expression that crosses your features is not unlike the one you wore when you first saw him— an earnest sort of wonder.

"it's you," you state as if you've been waiting on him to appear.

"you... remember me?"

"how could i forget?"

you approach him without fear or apprehension, and having you so close after all this time makes his heart race uncomfortably in his chest.

"are you well?" he questions, his eyes trailing down your body before flicking back up to yours. "you look it."

a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, your gaze falling to the ground bashfully. you rock on the heels of your feet before answering.

"i am well enough... and what of you?"

he's not sure that he's being entirely truthful when he replies, "i can say the same, i suppose."

"it pleases me to hear that you have not been suffering all this time. i must admit, i find that my thoughts still wander to you with remarkable frequency."

you laugh lightly at your own confession, fearing he may regard you as strange for it. on the other hand, he's thinking about how the sound of your laughter is the most beautiful thing he's heard since... well, since he last heard it.

"it is not rare for you to occupy the space of my own mind," he returns honestly.

you grab one of his hands, turning his palm up and running your thumb over the faint scar you find there. he hates the way it makes your face fall.

"i am sorry about that night, for what my father did to you. it was my fault for falling asleep—"

"don't," he stops you. "the fault lies only with me. i shouldn't have let him steal you away. i shouldn't have been so utterly weak—"

it's your turn to interrupt him and you press the pads of your fingers to his mouth to keep him from saying anything more.

"that is the farthest thing from the truth. you didn't deserve that. you deserved not one bit of the cruelty the village mercilessly showed you. you were only a boy, sukuna."

when your fingers fall from his lips, he doesn't try to speak. he doesn't trust that his voice won't betray him.

he can't remember the last time he heard his name spoken so familiarly, so warmly. it makes his throat feel tight.

the silence gives you an opportunity to take in the ways in which he's changed over the years.

his kimono and haori are pristine, a far cry from the rags he used to wear.

his frame is more than double the size of your own, and you know he's no longer living on scraps.

he stands tall, his posture straight and self assured, not that of someone who is feeble and frightened.

but you're not referring to any of those things when you point out, "you're different now."

and of course you're right, he just doesn't know how to tell you that the boy you used to spend your days with is gone. that the blood on his hands is no longer his own. that the person standing before you is nothing more than the monster the villagers always claimed him to be.

so he just nods in agreement and your eyes sparkle as you regard him with curiosity.

"i loved you, you know," you tell him sincerely.

your confession is painful to hear, because it reminds him of everything he lost that night.

"i could love you now, too." you reach up and caress his cheek, trying desperately to read the expression he's wearing. "if you'll let me."

for a moment, you think he might agree to your offer, but your hope is short lived.

"this... this was a mistake."

he turns to leave, intending to retreat to the shadows of the forest, but a small hand wraps around his wrist.

"no." your tone is forceful.

if only you knew what happens to most people who dare speak that word in his presence.

he doesn't say anything, so you add, "the only mistake you've made is waiting so long to come back to me."

he's surprised upon seeing the frustrated tears that well up in your eyes.

"we are but strangers to one another." his reminder stings and it shows plainly on your face. "and that is for the best, i assure you. you don't want to know me— to know the things i've done."

"i care not what you've done!" your voice is so loud, it sends a flock of birds fleeing from a nearby tree. "i care not what horrors loneliness may have driven you toward, because when we belonged to one another you were good. you were kind. you were—"

"stop." each of your words is like a knife in his chest, and his voice cracks from the ache of it.

"i will not! if your only intention was to reject me, why come here at all?"

"i don't know—"

"precisely! you want me, just as i want you. my devotion is yours, sukuna! there is no reason for you to reject that which i willingly give—"

"enough!" he barks at you, grabbing you roughly by the shoulders. you don't shy away from him, even in spite of the way his fingers dig into your flesh and his nose flares angrily.

"you believe that because you showed me a sliver of kindness when we were children that i should throw myself at your feet? your devotion means nothing to me! it does little more than inspire my disgust!"

the words taste like poison on his tongue, but he needs you to believe them.

he needs to believe them himself.

he pushes you away, and while it's not harshly enough to send your body flying to the grass, it does make you stumble backwards.

ire burns in your eyes and he thinks he's succeeded in his endeavor, but once he turns to leave, you're grabbing his wrist again and launching yourself against him.

your hands find his face and you pull his lips to yours despairingly. your bodies move together as if you've spent a lifetime in one another's arms.

then, he's pulling away from you. he's calling you a pathetic fool. he's looking at you with animosity.

but just as quickly, his lips find yours again and he grabs at the fabric of your kimono in an attempt to bring your body closer to his own.

you swear his hands tremble as they find a home on the curve of your hips.

once your lips part, he holds your gaze for what feels like an eternity.

resignation seems to dance across his features, but there's something else there too. desire? hope? longing?

you really can't say for certain.

"i am yours, and you are mine."

you're not sure if it's a question or a statement, so you offer him a slight nod of your head. "today and always."

[myfictionaldreams]

~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥

you're mine (smut, angst, dark)

Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?

i need more (fluff, smut)

You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.

ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)

He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters

steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)

It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.

When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)

It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?

one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.

repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?

how many?(fluff, smut)

Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.

i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

no touching (fluff, smut, angst)

You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.

i don’t care (fluff, smut)  

'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst) 

It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.

overwhelming (fluff)

It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

the fun game  (fluff, smut)

Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?

harder, please  (fluff, smut, angst)

Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?

protect and forget  (fluff, smut, angst) 

Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

All Eyes On You  (smut)  

“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers

you belong to me  (fluff, smut, angst)

These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?

dont fall asleep  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

rule number one.  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2)  (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

our little bean  (fluff, angst)    

You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant?  Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).

the limit  (fluff, smut, angst)

Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

sick day (fluff)

Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.

accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst) 

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

everyone is breakable  (fluff, smut, angst)

Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

winter soup  (fluff, smut, angst)

There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

something new   (smut)

The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?

pegging - kinktober  (smut)

Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

cockwarming - kinktober (smut)

You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.

double penetration in one hole - kinktober  (smut)

You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.

fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)

You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.

role reversal - kinktober  (smut)

For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Duke, Duchess and Knights  (fluff, angst)

You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)

It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

Drabbles

The first to give their jacket when reader is cold

Mad & Sad moments

Saying the wrong thing

TikTok trend: no kissing

Who is more protective?

safe space in your new home

Halloween Costumes

[sttoru]

just saw ur fic ideas post .......... how bout semi public stuff with gojo @ some high end jujutsu event and he just is SOOOO enamoured with how you look and takes you to the bathroom and ..... 😙

GOT A FETISH FOR YOUR LOVE !

ෆ note. sobs dies ressurects… im so weak… i had to write a full on fic… everyone thank T for this cuz i went crazy on this one and it’s super detailed for no reason. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !

ෆ tags. (perv)dom!satoru x female reader. semi public, p in v — unprotected, bits of manhandling, corruption kink, breast play, premature ejaculation, cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, teasing, cum play, creampies, spanking, pussy slapping, mentions of masturbation, perv panty stealer satoru, implied cunnilingus, fucked against a wall, lots of dirty talk, satoru calls you ‘slutty’ once, satoru with the famous ‘just the tip’ beg, satoru sometimes turns whiny and subby so you get the best of both worlds (hes pathetic), he has a big dick ehem, pussy drunk satoru.

satoru couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you climb up the stairs near the torii gates of the high school he teaches at; your appearance only increasing in beauty due to the candle lights placed all around the environment.

your face and body were glistening under the moon light as you made your way up. you were silently cursing yourself for wearing heels while knowing that jujutsu tech was situated on top of a literal mountain.

unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had been waiting your arrival near the entrance since the first guests started pouring in.

with a sigh, you finally lift your head up as you notice the entrance to the main building come into view. there were lots of known sorcerers gathered around, chitchatting about recent business and changes in the jujutsu society.

you were too enamoured by the elegant decorations that hung around the school and the people who were dressed accordingly to the theme to even notice the white-haired man walking up to you.

which was unusual, since satoru’s tall physique could be easily spotted in any crowd.

“baby, you should’ve told me you had arrived!” satoru exclaims almost embarrassingly loud, waving at you without a care in the world of all the other guests that were giving him stares. his gaze was only on you, “i would’ve come picked you up.”

you wave back at him, eyes lingering on the tailored dark blue suit he was wearing, the waistcoat and dress shirt underneath being undeniably attractive. a bonus being that he was wearing his glasses and not his blindfold.

“it’s okay, love.” you reassure satoru as you walk a few steps towards him as well.

“ya sure? you didn’t hurt yourself or anything, right?” satoru pouts, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight, “my poor, poor girl.”

you roll your eyes at satoru’s antics. his one and only desire in life is to give you the princess treatment you deserve and it shows at moments like these.

“it’s fine,” you murmur, voice muffled as you bury your face into the crook of his neck; getting drowned in his familiar scent, “you look handsome by the way.”

satoru chuckles, feeling a bit giddy on the inside from your compliment. he almost responded with a ‘i know i do’, yet he held himself back. today was an exception and he decided to save you from any more cheeky remarks.

“thank you, pretty.” satoru hums, “you look ethereal.”

you could feel the way your boyfriend hugged you even tighter after his comment, pressing your body against his. you normally wouldn’t mind it in the slightest, however you could notice a few people glancing over at you two.

satoru couldn’t give a single damn about it; the only thing his senses were hyper focused on were your breasts that were squished against his chest—the curves of your body being easily accessible to the sorcerer.

“god..” his breath was shaky a little. satoru was really trying hard to repress his urges, the event hadn’t even started yet and even so, he was way too lost in his perverted thoughts.

he couldn’t help himself. you were just too addictive; your perfume, your warmth, your body, your face, your glossy lips… your breasts, your ass—

satoru clears his throat and pulls back after a bit, “shall we, m’lady?”

he bowed a little to you, putting his hand out for you to hold on while a subtle smirk played on his lips.

with a giggle, you grab onto his hand and satoru wastes no time interlocking your fingers as he guides you to the entrance of the main hall.

the building was scattered with even more sorcerers from all kinds of clans; some admiring the scenery, some sitting and eating various delicacies.

like before, you were too caught up in the scale of the event to realise that satoru was ogling you. it was a great thing that his pitch black lenses were blocking most of his eyes from the outside;

his gaze lingered on your side profile, your lips that were slightly parted in amazement, your hips which swayed from side to side with each step and your ass which he tried not to grope in public.

satoru hadn’t even noticed that he started to ball his hands into fists out of pure self control. his hand that was holding onto yours tightening its grip as well.

“something wrong?” you ask your boyfriend once you noticed, tilting your head to look up at him.

“nothin’, baby.” satoru lies and flashes you a reassuring smile, “c’mon. let’s enjoy some food.”

without waiting on your answer, satoru guides you towards a free cocktail table and stands near it, serving you an appetiser that was set on the table cloth.

you gladly accepted it and took a small bite, looking around the place some more and taking in the details, “it’s really pretty. the decor and stuff.”

satoru hums in agreement even though he hadn’t taken a single proper look at the environment when you were the main event in his eyes, “yeah. i think so too.”

everything about you somehow drove him crazy today. on most normal days, he could wait until you were at home to show you how much he adores you. that was not the case at the moment since he was fighting with his own self on the inside.

he was absolutely whipped for your elegant look.

“very pretty.” satoru mumbles under his breath. he most definitely wasn’t talking about the interior or exterior of the place.

it was getting harder by the minute to not give in to his primal needs. the more you talked to him, flashed him your innocent smile and let him hear your voice, the more he was struggling to keep his (now hard) dick in his pants.

you continued rambling about something that you noticed around you and satoru took the chance to place his hand on your hip, pulling you closer. it wasn’t anything unusual, thus you kept on talking.

it started off by him rubbing the area around your hips to his fingers subtly sliding downwards, eventually reaching the hem of your dress. his index finger dipped under the fabric, caressing your upper thigh. that small skin to skin action made satoru’s breath hitch and his cock twitch in its restraints.

“fuck.”

“what was that?” you abruptly stop yourself as you heard your lover curse under his breath. you weren’t aware of all the lewd thoughts going on in satoru’s mind and that made it even better. your innocent confusion wasn’t going to last long, however.

satoru lowered his head a bit until his lips were right next to your ear. the warmth of his breath made you shiver.

“i said,” he starts off in a low tone; one which he knows would make you weak for him, “i want you.”

it was as if time froze for you for a split second. you knew what satoru meant with that. you could’ve easily guessed the hidden meaning behind those three words just by his tone. the light but daring touches on your legs were your second hint.

“love, we’re in public.” you whisper back. satoru has a reputation to uphold as the strongest sorcerer in this entire building, yet there he was; implying that he wanted to take you right there and now.

a sigh left satoru’s lips, the air hitting your ear once again, “please, baby? for me?”

satoru was running out of patience. he could act out in the midst of the hall and disregard his image for all he cares. he just needed you. badly.

“promise i’ll be quick, yeah?” he adds, tone pleading but also a tad dominant.

you gulp and wanted to give in. you stood no chance to your whiny boyfriend, who always knew the right buttons to push to get you to comply to his requests.

satoru saw the hesitation in your eyes and he decided to plead more, “just the tip. i promise, sweets—tha’s all i need.”

a intrusive mental image of satoru fucking your brains out made him grip your thigh a bit harder; his voice suddenly growing deep and dominant, his expression filled with only lust.

“shit—please. have to feel your sweet pussy wrapped around me or i’ll lose it.”

his words were growing explicit and it was only a matter of time before he actually touches you improperly in front of everyone. you could tell by the way his long fingers inched closer to your clothed cunt.

“..fine. just the tip, like you said.” you breathe out shakily out of pure desire. though, both of you knew that it was going to be more than ‘just the tip’.

satoru grinned and immediately put down the appetiser he was holding onto, grabbing your hand and almost rushing out of the hall.

there were a few sorcerers trying to greet him on the way, yet he didn’t even glance at them once. his eyes were dazed with hunger as he swiftly made his way through the crowd—his thoughts being filled with the ways he’ll have you moan and beg.

satoru opens up the door to the nearest bathroom, pushing you against the wall the moment the door closed behind you.

his glossy lips crash against yours, the lipstick you’re wearing smearing on your lover due to the aggressive and almost sloppy way he kissed you. his tongue prodded against your lips before entering your mouth—strings of saliva and heavy breaths being exchanged between you two for what felt like minutes.

“ah, fuck. i wanted this so bad,” satoru moans against your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, “..since the moment i saw you in that dress.”

his big hands were all over your body; groping and grabbing onto your flesh, from your ass and thighs to your tits.

“mhhh— ‘toru, god,” you sigh, feeling yourself get wet from just his confessions, “you can have me, all of me.”

your lover grunts at your words. they were exactly what he needed to hear. he roughly pulls the hem of your dress up, revealing your white panties. his all time favourite. a small, lustful grin instantly appears on his face. he always thought that you looked extra innocent in those; and that by ripping those off, that he’ll corrupt that ‘pure’ image.

and don’t let him start on how many times he’s used that specific pair of panties to jerk off. he vividly remembers how his sticky cum covered the cloth afterwards.

“haah—fuckfuckfuck,” satoru curses repeatedly as his fingertips tremble out of pure desire, “can’t wait any longer. you’re gonna walk around the avenue with no panties later on, ‘kay?”

“sato-” your eyes widened and before you could even protest, you hear the fabric of your underwear tearing. the ripped off cloth falling down onto the cold floor.

“there we go,” he mutters in delight, his eyes gazed at your exposed pussy. his fingers rubbed over the skin, grazing the wet folds. a deep, breathy chuckle echoes throughout the bathroom, “this pussy’s just ready to be filled, don’tcha think?”

you nod feverishly and nibble on your lower lip at the way satoru was teasing your clit. his hand slowly cupped your slippery cunt, his palm covering the area entirely before slapping the velvety flesh. three small smacks, each making your limbs tremble.

“ya hear that?” satoru hums, completely overtaken by his desire for you as the squelchy sounds ring in his ears, “so ready to be stretched out and fucked.”

“hnnnh, ah, baby—please just, just fuck me.” you whimper; feeling the pressure of his hand’s thenar against your clit while his fingertips traveled across your vulva.

“oh, i definitely will.” satoru responds with a grunt as he undoes his belt and zipper with his free hand. his trousers and underwear fall down to his ankles, revealing his cock to you.

your mouth watered at the sight as it slightly slapped against his lower abdomen due to the speed at which satoru took his boxers off. the moist drops of thick pre-cum coating his pink tip, the slight curve of his big shaft and the veins covering it—you needed to have him in you.

when satoru thinks that he prepped you enough to take his cock, he removes his hand from between your legs. of course, he isn’t going to waste a chance of tasting your slick that gathered on his skin.

“turn around,” he orders after licking off his fingers and you do as said, “ass back towards me, pretty.”

one of satoru’s hands was on one side of your hips to hold you steady against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, the other occupied with stroking his cock. satoru was already contemplating on where to cum; in or on you. he’s obsessed with spurting his sticky cum on your plump ass, however he also loved stuffing you full of it.

“deep breaths,” your boyfriend reminds you as he prods the swollen tip of his cock at your entrance—despite the prep, it was always almost impossible to avoid a slight discomforting sensation in the beginning. that man’s length was no joke.

“ahhhh, fuuuck! satoru!” you hiss and your fingernails try to dig into the wall you were pressed against. you felt your folds being forced apart to fit his cock inside of your small cunt.

“shiiit.. you’re fuckin’ tight.” satoru grits his teeth. no matter how many times he breaks your pussy in, you still feel as tight as ever, “..mmh—relax, princess.”

satoru pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out and you both took a deep breath. a sloppy kiss was placed against the back of your neck as reward for taking him in. it was his habit of doing so every time the two of you get intimate.

“‘m gonna start moving. that alright?”

a simple nod coming from you was plenty to let satoru begin with slow, soft thrusts which soon enough turned into deep and firm thrusts—the pounding sounds echoing in the bathroom, “there we go—ahh, yeah— fuck!”

“mhhhg, s’good! ngh!” you slur your words a bit as satoru started to speed up the tempo, feeling his heavy balls slap against the skin near your clit every time he drove his thick cock into you, “mmph! more, wan’ more!”

neither you nor satoru could care anymore if your desperate mewls or the harsh skin-to-skin sounds were heard outside of the dimly lit bathroom.

satoru was slowly losing his mind as he gazed down at your ass and the way you moved your hips back to meet his rough thrusts—he never got enough of you in that position. his hands held onto your hips before moving to your lower back to deepen your arch a little. his eyes were in a trance; he needed to see more of that chubby ass and the recoil of it.

“i swear—you’re gonna make me,haah, cum already,” satoru moans as he tried to find a way to distract himself from the pleasure building up to a breaking point. he decides to gently bite onto your shoulder, running his tongue over the slight mark he left and then continues to suck on the flesh.

“hmmmh, haah, yes! need- need your cum in me, please- please, ‘toru!” you beg in such an erotic tone that satoru can’t help but bite down harder on your shoulder.

“princess—y-you can’t say that-” he swallows a lump in his throat as he forces his cock so deep that you felt it hit your cervix repeatedly, “please- don’t say that.. don’t, oh god—“

satoru was the one begging this time; his voice sounding more whiny than it had ever been during your little session. he can’t help it when it comes to you. he had desired to fuck you since he saw you and now that he was finally doing it, his senses were utterly overwhelmed.

“nonono,” you hear your boyfriend curse as the strokes inside your tight cunt turned harsh and quick, like he was on the verge of his climax, which he didn’t want. he didn’t want to cum in under two minutes, but he’s just so weak when it comes to you. so damn weak.

“ahhh, fuck— s-sorry, baby— can i cum? can i cum in you? please?” he bites his lips, shutting his eyes so tight that he could see colors.

“please, please, let me. mnghhh, please let me cum in you. wanna fill you up.” satoru repeats his words like a chant in your ear. you were as lost in the feeling of ecstasy as your lover was and just nodded at his whiny pleas.

“mhmm, yes, do it—cum in me!”

your permission was all satoru needed and not a second later, you felt ropes and ropes of hot cum flood your cunt and some drops gush out of your pulsating hole.

satoru was quivering slightly as he kept moving his hips in slow pumps, fucking the cum deeper into you. you were full of surprises; he didn’t know he could cum in under two minutes until right that instant. you really had him wrapped around your finger.

and the best thing? he was already starting to get hard once again.

satoru slowly pulled his dick out of you and only let the tip stay a few centimetres in you. one hand went to grab onto the base of his length and he started to tap and move the tip in tiny circular motions in your cum-filled pussy—making sure every single drop is dumped where it belonged.

“fucking greedy, ain’t ya?” satoru hisses as he feels you clench onto his tip like you were doing to his cock earlier, “your pussy just wants to milk me dry.”

you whine and push your hips back a little in attempt to push his cock further into your needy cunt again, “wan’ more.. please, ‘toru?”

gojo satoru was a weakling.

he slammed his cock fully inside of you again and didn’t care if you expected it or not; he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow. his hands were kneading the flesh of your ass, spanking it every now and then to feel you tighten up more around him while his hips were working full time.

“yeah? gonna take another load in your slutty cunt again?” satoru groans as he feels your pussy gripping onto his throbbing cock like it was pleading to be stuffed, “haaah—you’re incredible, nhh, never had anyone make me cum this quick and hard before.”

your body squirmed and shivered each time you felt satoru spank you, ending up in a repeated cycle of you tightening up around him and him smacking the fat of your ass, “yes, yes, yes! want it, please!”

it was incredibly difficult to hold back your own orgasm when satoru was whispering filthy things in your ear, pounding into your creamy pussy while also stimulating your clit.

satoru instantly caught onto the fact that you were nearing your climax. you always started to get more noisy whenever you were close, “aah, mhm—cum on my cock while i dump another load inside of you. c’mon, you can do it.”

satoru’s words made your stomach fill with butterflies, the coil inside of you threatening to finally snap.

“‘m gonna.. gonna cum! gonna cum!” you cry out between ragged breaths, eyes rolling into the back of your head once you reached your long-awaited climax.

the sight of you arching your back even more while you came was the hottest thing satoru’s seen. he rushed his thrusts, becoming more precise to hit your cervix over and over again.

“mhm, jus’ like that—tighten up more.” your lover hisses and his nails dug into the flesh of your hips while he felt your pussy throbbing from overstimulation, “milk me dry, pretty—fuck!”

your mind was foggy with that euphoric feeling after reaching your orgasm. but also due to satoru continuing to bully his thick cock all the way in you, seemingly needing to drain his balls inside your cunt.

“mhhhhnn, ‘m gonna fill ya up again,” he whimpers a bit into your ear from behind while sweat drips from his forehead, “take it all like a good girl, yeah? don’t—haah— waste a drop.”

and with that he spurts and squirts strings of cum into your womb once more. it felt like there was no ending to it as his semen just continued to pump out of the tip.

“fuckkk! got more for you,” satoru almost sobs out, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips as his muscles tense up. he came so much into you that even more of the liquid drizzled down on the floor beneath you, “take it—yeah—jus’ like that.”

a few more deep and chaste strokes and satoru was done. he exhaustedly rests his chin on your shoulder, white locks clinging onto his forehead and his cheeks colouring a reddish hue.

“haahh.. that was amazing.” satoru sighs deeply, trying to catch his breath while wrapping his arms around your waist. he buried his face into your neck, leaving small pecks there while mumbling about how good you were for him.

your eyes were closed as you rest against the wall, enjoying the affection from your lover while you feel his dick go limp inside you. satoru slowly pulls out afterwards, biting his lip as his gaze lingered on all the fluids leaking down your trembling thighs.

“hold on,” satoru murmurs gently, “gonna clean you up, princess.”

his own legs were shaking slightly as he quickly put his boxers and pants back on. your boyfriend grabs a few tissues from a nearby dispenser, kneeling behind you afterwards.

your eyes followed his fingers as they held onto the wipes and started to clean you up slowly. the comfortable silence—excluding the muffled sounds of chatter and music from outside the bathroom—was perfect for you to catch your breath.

satoru was diligently sliding the tissues over your skin, making sure to not be too rough.

as much as he tried telling himself not to get turned on again from the sight of your ass and sopping cunt in front of his face, he just couldn’t.

your lover was breathing heavily and stopped cleaning you up for a second. he really tried his best to stop himself over and over, though the title of being the strongest didn’t apply to his self control.

his large hands came up to hold onto your ass, spreading the cheeks apart which made your lips part in shock. you looked over your shoulder at him and sensed the resurfacing lust in the air. not only that: his warm breath hit your sensitive pussy as he panted in a hungry way.

satoru lifted his head up to meet your eyes, flashing you a (not so) apologetic grin;

“sorry, pretty. i need to get my dessert.”

[freedomfireflies]

Yellow*

Summary: An extra for One for the Money*

The one where you have to use your safeword with Mr. Styles and you worry it'll ruin everything.

Word Count: 3.4k

(TW: Panic attack and mentions of panic attacks)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Just like that…shit, just like that, Peach. So fucking good. Can feel you, honey. Fucking feel you—”

Mr. Styles’ hand intertwines with yours before he brings them both to your stomach. Pressing your palm taut to the flesh until you can feel the subtle bulge from his cock. Thrusting into you so deep, your eyes roll all the way back into your head.

He’s been at it for hours. Showing off for the camera, allowing them to see him at his most powerful. And you at your most vulnerable.

You’re used to it by now. More than used to it, and on any given day, you thrive off it. You indulge in his prowess, his intentions. More than willing to be flaunted in front of the large audience of onlookers as he takes you anyway he wants you.

So you’re not sure why today feels different. Why the weight on your chest is heavier than it usually is. Why his hands – while always kind, always comforting – feel like tools in a game of your misery.

You don’t want to stop him. Don’t want to scare him or upset him. You know the moment you utter the words, the dynamic will shift instantaneously. And perhaps that’s what you want, but the repercussions might be more than you’re prepared to handle.

Yet the thought doesn’t leave you as he lowers his fingers toward your clit to pinch and tweak your next orgasm out of you. But you’re already far too sensitive, far too gone in the stimulation and the pain to enjoy it.

Instead, you try to focus on the little red light that blinks from the camera, try to imagine how pleased the audience will be to see this. How all of this will be worth it. It has to be worth it.

“Feels good, honey, doesn’t it?” he groans, now pushing your knee into your chest until you’re whimpering. “My pretty pussy takes me so well, doesn’t she? Let’s me fuck her exactly the way I want. Till she’s fucking crying.”

You nod weakly and the sight of your wet eyes makes his cock twitch as he drives himself in at a quicker pace.

And suddenly, you can’t breathe. Can’t slow the racing of your pulse or ignore the ringing in your ears. It’s everywhere, this pain. Your vision of him has gone blurry and your poor pussy feels swollen and abused.

But you tell yourself it’ll be fine. That you just need to catch your breath. You just need a second, and it’ll be okay. 

Because you don’t want to say it. You’ve never had to say it before, and you don’t exactly want to start now. And you aren’t sure why, you know he’d be more than understanding. But this is silly, you feel silly. Because you’re fine. You just need a second. And it'll pass. 

It will pass.

But it doesn’t pass, and you don’t feel in control of your own body anymore. Which is normally the point, but not today. Today you need to feel grounded, to feel some semblance of power over the anguish. And he’s so good, and so kind, and you can’t say it. You can’t do this to him, can’t do this to yourself, and if you can just catch your breath, it’ll be okay. 

Because he feels good, he really does. And you’re making him feel good, and you don’t want to take that from him. Because then he won’t get to cum, and he’ll be upset, and he’ll never treat you the same. He’ll always remember that you were too weak to take it.

So you’ll take it, you will. You’ll be his good girl, his good little slut, and you’ll make him proud. 

You will.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you repeat this mantra. As you command yourself to like the pain. Because you do. You have to. You can’t say it. You can’t, so you won’t, and you won’t do this, and you won’t ruin it, and it’s fine, and everything is fine—

“Wait,” you whisper, hands tugging on the sweaty curls at your disposal. Hard enough to capture his attention. “Wait, hold on, hold…yellow.”

Just like that…it all stops. He stills, instantly. No more thrusts into your cunt, no more pinching or pulling on your clit, no more kisses to your neck. It all stops in the blink of an eye, and you hear him inhale a quick breath as his body freezes above yours.

Seconds pass. Quiet and filled with a charged, tense energy that’s so eerie, you can almost hear your heart thumping in your chest. 

Then, he murmurs, “Okay. Okay, m’waiting.”

Your lashes flutter shut as a wince stretches across your expression. He doesn’t sound upset, but maybe he is. And you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, can sense how hard he’s trying to hold himself back, how difficult this must be for him to stop like this.

And you realize now that you’ve ruined it, and he’s gonna be pissed, and he’s going to end things, and he’s never gonna fuck you again—

“Peach,” he says softly, face still nuzzled against your shoulder. “Talk to me, what do you need? What would you like me to do?”

You don’t trust your voice. Can feel the influx of tears racing up the back of your throat as you squeeze his hair harder and shake your head.

But this isn’t an answer he accepts, his fingers gently tugging on your waist. “Peach, I need to hear you. I need to know what to do—”

“Nothing,” you exhale, the words getting lost in his cheek as you hold on for dear life. “Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just need one second. One second and you can go, okay? I promise, I’m sorry—”

“Peach.” It’s not angry but it’s fervent. Determined. “Don’t…shit. Don’t you dare fucking apologize right now, just tell me…tell me what you want me to do. Do you want me to pull out? Or do you want me to stay still?”

And you want to answer, but you can’t. Because there’s too much happening in your head right now. In your heart. It’s going faster than you think it ever has, and your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse, and you want to cry—God, you want to cry. Can already feel the tears slipping down your face, fast and without mercy.

Because he’s so good, and so wonderful, and so kind, and you don’t deserve him. Especially after making him stop, and why did you make him stop, why did you do this, why can’t you just get over it—

“Hey, hey.” His head lifts, eyes finding yours as his hand comes up to cup your jaw. As delicately as he can without startling you. “Okay, it’s all right. You’re okay, Peach.”

His lips press to the tears on your skin. Gently and with great compassion. Which, in turn, only makes you cry that much harder.

“You’re okay,” he whispers between slow kisses to your cheek. “Deep breath, my love. You’re all right, I’ve got you, yeah? M’right here. Won’t let you go until you want me to.”

You melt into the mattress as he continues holding you to the best of his ability. As he attempts to comfort you without causing you any more pain.

“Honey, I need you to tell me what you need. What your body needs,” he repeats after a moment, nose faintly brushing against yours. “Do you want me to pull out or do you want me to stay still?”

Truthfully, you aren’t sure what you want. It doesn’t sting the way it did before, but you’re worried if he moves, the pain will return tenfold.

And the thought of him taking himself from you makes your chest ache.

“I don’t know,” you whimper, attempting to hide yourself in his neck. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m trying—”

“Hey.” The stern voice returns as his palm tightens against your chin and pulls your focus to him. “What did I just say, hm? I don’t want to hear one more apology out of this pretty mouth. Is that understood?”

Your bottom lip quivers. “…I’m sorry.”

With a gentle but slightly amused sigh, he says, “Peach—”

“I am,” you insist, nails curling into the back of his neck. “I don’t know why I made you stop, I’m fine. I’m fine, really. I think I just got scared or something—”

“Scared?” His demeanor shifts on a dime, brows furrowing, and expression quickly growing distressed. “Scared how? What did I do? What can I do?”

“Nothing,” you repeat, gasping slightly at the implication. “Nothing, no. You didn’t…that’s not what I…fuck.”

“Okay, easy, Peach,” he mumbles, sweeping his thumb along your bottom lip soothingly. Waiting until you calm. And he studies you for quite some time, as though looking for the answer written somewhere on your face. “It was a lot, yeah? I pushed too hard.”

“No,” you try again, but his look of disapproval makes you wilt. “I mean…it was a lot, yes, but you didn’t…normally, it’s perfect. It’s never too hard or too much. You didn’t do this, I think I just…my mind wasn’t here. Maybe.”

He nods once. Contemplates this. “I should have checked in with you more frequently. Especially with the camera on—”

“No,” you huff, resisting the urge to slap his shoulder. “Stop putting this on yourself, it’s making me sad.”

“And your apologies make me sad,” he counters. “But that’s the point of the safeword, isn’t it? The system we have in place? It’s nobody’s fault. It’s about communication. About trust, about safety.”

You swallow thickly and settle into the calming safe of his eyes.

His finger continues to trace the outline of your mouth, almost as if in an attempt to collect himself. “Do you trust me, Peach?”

Your stomach sinks. “Of course.”

“Do you feel safe with me?”

“Yes.” You leave a kiss to his thumb. “Always, Sir. I promise.”

He begins to frown. “No, I don’t want you to call me that right now. I want you to call me Harry.”

And this shift – this instruction is what you were afraid of. Lashes fluttering as you whisper, “It’s…it’s okay. You can still be Sir, I promise—”

“No, I don’t want to be your dominant right now,” he corrects firmly. “I don’t want to be your Sir. Or your boss or your investor. I want to be your partner. Your equal. I want to be you and me. Us.”

And you know he means it. Can sense the truth of it behind his assertion and it feels like the first deep breath you’ve been able to take all day.

 “Okay,” you agree, taking hold of his wrist to keep his hand close to your face. “Okay, we’ll be us.”

He seems relieved, dipping down to kiss the center of your forehead before asking, “Now…tell me what you want. Do you want me to pull out or keep still? What does your body need right now?”

You take a moment to find the right answer. “I don’t…honestly, I don’t know. I’m okay right now. Doesn’t…doesn’t hurt as much. You can…you can keep going if you want.”

“It’s not about what I want,” he reminds you. “It’s about what you want. What you need. If you want me to stay, I will. If you want me to go, I will.”

“I…I don’t want you to go. Really, I didn’t mean to make us stop, I swear—”

“We’re not stopping yet,” he interrupts. “Not until you say red. Right now, we’re just taking a break. Reassessing what you need. Okay?”

You nod weakly. “Okay.”

“Good.” He presses his palm to your cheek. “Do you want to say red? Do you want to stop?”

Again, you deliberate this. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

The frown returns. “I need you to do more than think, Peach. I need you to be sure.”

“I am,” you rush to clarify, shifting a bit beneath him as you squeeze his arm and fight against a pained wince. “I am, I promise. I just…I don’t know what happened. It just…there was a lot happening all of a sudden, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t enjoy it. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe or…or understand why I felt so off.”

A certain sadness finds him again as he nods and presses a couple more kisses to your temple. “I think you had a panic attack, my love.”

It’s an odd thought. One you aren’t quite familiar with, as panic attacks aren’t that common for you. In fact, you don’t believe you’ve ever had one before. At least not that you were aware of.

“Oh…” The words feel empty in your head. Weightless, with no meaning to grasp onto. “I…why?”

The corner of his mouth curls up, and the delicate smile makes your heart soar. “I don’t know. Sometimes we can’t find the cause, it just…happens.”

You blink up at him. “You’ve had a panic attack before?”

“I have,” he says calmly, and it surprises you more than it should. “I get them occasionally. Not as much anymore, though. With you.”

And this admission feels like something you can’t explain. Another piece to the Harry Styles puzzle you get to add to. Letting you see his big picture.

“I didn’t know that,” you whisper, and he shrugs.

“I never told you.” Another kiss to your forehead. “But I know how disorienting they can be, and I think it’s best we take a longer break before we continue.”

You feel your expression fall as he gently begins to move. “No, I…I don’t want to stop, I’m fine. You can…you can go—”

However, when he suddenly shifts his hips, it forces you to suck in a sharp, pained breath. Making it clear that continuing is no longer an option.

And for some reason, it feels like a punch to the gut. Knocking the wind from your lungs until that heaviness returns to your chest.

He really is going to stop. He’s going to take his body from you, and his weight, and his heat, and his cock. And the scene will be over, and maybe you won’t start again. Maybe he won’t be in the mood, or he’ll jerk one out in the shower without you, or he’ll look at you differently.

And you hate that thought more than anything in the world.

“No,” you practically whimper, grabbing onto his hips to keep him still. “No, we don’t have to stop, I’m fine. Really, it was just…it was nothing. Please, Harry.”

His thumb quickly returns to your face, brushing just below your eye to help dry the fresh set of tears on your warm, stained cheeks.

And he looks so very wounded. “Peach…this isn’t a punishment. There’s a reason we use the traffic light system, and it’s for moments like this. To keep things safe—”

“But I am safe,” you argue, the sound of your plea timid and riddled with distress. “And I’m fine now, really. You can go, we can finish. I want you to finish—”

“Peach,” he says again, but it’s a bit more resolute. “This isn’t about me finishing. It will never be about me finishing, all right? We can always resume the scene later if you’d like, but right now…I want to hold you. I want to help you feel steady again.”

And it’s the most perfect thought in the world. From the most perfectly imperfect man, and yet the idea of stopping sends sharp needles down your spine.

“Please,” you whine again, sniffling softly. “I don’t want to stop, I promise. Please don’t make us stop, please don’t…don’t…”

He dips down and nuzzles his nose to yours, forcing you to take a deep breath. “Honey, I’m not doing this to hurt you. Or upset you. I want to help, I want you to let me help. To honor our system and take a break.”

But you tug on him tighter, face disappearing into his chest as you shake your head. “Please don’t. Please just ignore me. I’ll feel worse if we stop, really. I’ll get worried and I’ll overthink, and I’ll panic again, and it’ll just be so much worse. So just…let’s finish, okay? I want to finish.”

You hear – and feel – him sigh. “Baby, I need you to listen to me right now, okay? This is my answer.”

It’s rare he uses this nickname, and even though it might be a little cliché, it makes your stomach wrench in the best possible way.

Yet still, the anguish is evident. “Harry,” you whisper, pleading desperately with everything you have left.

He slips his palm around the back of your neck to pull you from his body and allow him to see your face. It’s scrutinous, his expression. Slightly stern and somewhat doleful. “Do I need to be your dominant again? Is that the only way you’ll listen to me?”

Truth be told, you wonder if it is, and your sad little hiccup seems to be answer enough.

So, while fighting a smile, he says, “Then I want you to be a good girl and let Daddy hold you. I don’t want you to argue with me, or fight me, or act like a brat. I want you to say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ and be done with it. Is that understood?”

With a shaky inhale and a feeble nod, you murmur, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he hums before landing his mouth on yours. Kissing you for the first time in what feels like years. “Much sweeter when you behave for me, my love. Aren’t you?”

But you don’t have the strength to answer.

“I know,” he says for you, chuckling against your lips. “Now…I’m gonna pull out. And I’m gonna go slow, all right? Try to be as gentle as I can. And I want you to tell me if it aches or if it’s too much, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

With this vow, he begins to draw his hips back, cock retreating from your pussy until that full feeling begins to diminish.

And at first it’s a bit uncomfortable. Tight, in a sense but eventually, he’s all the way out, and your cunt is provided a moment of much needed reprieve.

The moment that relief finds you, it seems to melt across your expression. And he notices, smiling gratefully but with a twinge of regret. As though he’s punishing himself for causing you the displeasure in the first place.

But before either of you can argue about it again, he’s settling on the mattress beside you and slipping an arm around your stomach. Keeping you pressed against his body to hold you the way he promised.

“There,” he sighs, lips returning to their rightful place on your neck. “Is that better?”

Your eyes fall shut in blissful ecstasy as you lace your hand with his. “Yes, Sir.”

He grins and that familiar dimple reappears. “Attagirl. And you’re gonna let me hold you, yeah?”

“Mhm. Always, Sir.”

He kisses the spot below your ear. “Good.”

The large bedroom falls silent while the little red light from the camera blinks the seconds away. You imagine you’ll have to scrap this video, and you want to feel regret over wasting so much content over this.

But you know, deep down, it’s not about the videos, or your OnlyFans, or the money.

Because all you really need…is here beside you.

“Sir?” you whisper into the delicate air.

His head rolls back. “Yes, Peach?”

“Thank you.”

He squeezes your hip. “Don’t have to thank me, honey. This is my job. This is what we agreed on.”

“I know,” you admit, allowing your other hand to travel to his hair. Fingers absentmindedly sweeping through the curls. “But I don’t think any of my other partners would have been this understanding. And I really appreciate it.”

His eyebrow raises. “Well, that’s why they aren’t your fucking partners anymore. You needed someone that wasn’t a total fucking twat.”

You smirk. “Touché.”

Another quiet lull as you listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Reveling in the feel of them against your heated skin. The way they keep you present in this moment with him instead of losing you to the voices in your head.

Contented, you turn and press your cheek to his forehead, nails scratching down his scalp gently. “Harry?”

“Yes, Peach?”

With a racing heart, your eyes flutter shut.

“…I love you.”

Previous Part:

~ How Many?*

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

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[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.

Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie

„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”

“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”

“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”

Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.

“I bet she slept her way up.”

Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?

“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”

“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”

“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.

They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?

“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.

“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.

“Most of them are trash. That one though…”

Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.

“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”

“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.

“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.

A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.

“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”

“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.

Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.

“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”

You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.

“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”

“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.

Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.

“What the hell is going on over there?”

You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.

Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.

“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.

You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.

“You have no i-“

An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?

“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”

When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.

“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”

Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.

And his dreadful orbs are set on you.

You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.

But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.

“So, this was you?”, he questions.

There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.

Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.

“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.

It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.

No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.

“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”

Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?

“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”

He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-

“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.

You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?

“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“

“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”

 “What?”, you blurt out.

And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…

You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.

“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.

“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.

Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.

“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”

The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.

-one week later-

“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.

Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.

“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.

It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.

“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.

“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”

“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.

“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”

“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”

“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”

Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…

Right?

He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen

[inkbybambi]

best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

one thing you love about simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. strong, steadfast, there when you need him. even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

not that you’ll tell him that.

you hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

except for simon.

which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. you don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. you've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

but losing simon? you don't think you'd ever get over that.

it's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold your tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

your call log is all simon.

some appointments here and there, but simon everywhere else.

fuck.

you hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

you don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

he answers before the third ring.

"i'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. you take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired.

“no, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. you’re only half-convinced.

"i'm sorry," you begin again. your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. you're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "i didn't know who else to call, and i lost my tram pass, and i don't have an umbrella, and — "

“dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. you ache.

"i can just walk home, i-i'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone.

“darling,” he says, a little stern. not angry, never angry. trying to focus you. “what’s wrong?”

“u-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "i waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "messaged him too, y'know. but he just. didn't show."

you think you hear simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick.

“where are you?”

there's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. you manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking.

“twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “sit there and be good and patient and i’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. you make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

you can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

he says your name gently. you take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. he's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. assessing you, worrying.

"i'm sorry," you croak out. you can't help it. it's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. he doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. his eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "you know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

you can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. he hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"this is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. you were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "you really think i'd let you stay home alone?"

his eyes are so fucking bright. it startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"i..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. his eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "i was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"as if i don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. you scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

you hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

his flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

well.

you might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. it's a you're a bit clumsy thing. simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

his bedroom is familiar as well. which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

you take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. you’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

as you pad back out to the living room, simon’s already on the couch. your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. but you’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

his balaclava is off. the last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv already ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“am i that predictable?” you mumble, a small ‘thank you’ as he hands you a bowl.

he doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

the silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

you blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. you can’t read his eyes. something hot twists in your gut.

“i-i don’t know, simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “maybe?”

he doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “depends how the date went, i suppose. doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. his gaze hasn’t changed. “why?”

his jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “you deserve better ‘n that.”

a confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “i know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

he seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. you feel sick.

dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. you bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. relationships aren’t easy. being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

you never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. you don’t deserve that kind of attention. after a while, they’ll get tired. you’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

it’s easier to be by yourself. the only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“love.” he tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. how hasn’t he tired of you yet?

a hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“what’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f’yours?”

you swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “no one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

frustration burns the back of your throat. isn’t it obvious? you can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. how can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? how could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“you wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. you crumble back into the couch.

“make me understand.”

heat flashes at the nape of your neck. he takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“how aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. you look at him. hesitant. scared.

the silence is loud. his frown deepens. it takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“you know i’d do anything for you, yeah?”

your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“because you do the same for me,” he continues. you doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

his touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. he slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips where the waistband of his boxers start.

you slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. firm and broad and safe.

“you apologize so much. you worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. one hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“you’re allowed to ask for help.”

you shake your head, a “no” caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“oh, love.” he cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “you have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

he lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. but his cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. you’re so tired.

his lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. you’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

[elexaria]

living with ghoap was nice. two big burly fellas to keep you company, to reach the top shelves in the kitchen for you, to absolutely plough you into the mattress when you couldnt itch your own scratch for once. they were good lads.

but there were countless times where they’d be away for work, so you knew you couldnt be fully dependent on them. they knew that too, so they weren’t exactly going to object to you having fun without them. so long as you were happy and safe, they were content.

but fuck, the men out there are absolutely horrible to deal with. sleazy, there’s just… no ability to have any kind of banter with these things that think only with their cocks.

until you meet kilgöre alexander.

he’s gigantic, his shoulders probably share the same width as mount everest’s base. easily, kilgöre is the tallest man you’ve ever been with. he dwarfs simon in size, which is very telling in itself.

it’s hard to pry away at who kilgöre is as a person. he’s austrian, likes keeping himself to himself. absolutely refuses to tell you what he does for a living, because it’s on a need to know basis. “sounds like something a terrorist would say.” you jokingly coo one night at dinner, smirking as he rolls his foggy blue eyes at your comment. “har har, very funny.” he mockingly says, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly.

he’s one of the best things that’s happened to you in a while. he doesn’t know about the particular living arrangement you share with simon and johnny— like he says, it’s on a need to know basis. plus, you haven’t boned either of them since you met this fella. ghoap know what’s up, but they’re not bothered by it. they’re just glad to see you doing well for yourself. “ye have a glow about ye, love.” johnny coos in your ear one day, smirking as he watches you fluster and flounder around the kitchen, trying to make excuses. “it’s the vitamins i’m taking” this and “i’ve quit dairy” that. he knows the truth, simon know its too.

but there’s one thing that makes the attachment to this man absolutely unbearable.

he disappears from time to time.

some days it’s only a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks at a push. absolutely no contact.

he swears it’s to do with his line of work, that one day he’ll be able to tell you everything. but for now, he asks just for one thing.

“just… wait for me.”

it’s been almost a month with no contact from kilgöre, and it feels like every morning with no text, no nothing, you have a growing pit inside of you that can’t stop gnawing at you, eating you up whole. what the fuck? what could he possibly do for a career that makes it so he goes days without checking his phone? it makes you feel sick to your stomach. what if he’s in a gang or something?

besides, how the fuck can you keep on waiting for someone who you don’t even know is even alive? for all you know, this behemoth of a man has been hog tied and dumped at the bottom of a lake with cinder blocks strapped to his feet. how are you supposed to wait for someone who shows no signs of leaving or coming back?

“that light in yer eyes has dulled.” johnny remarks one evening, a sad smile on his lips. your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion. “huh? oh, yeah. uh… it’s the gluten intolerance i reckon.” you murmur to yourself, flashing a weak smile to consolidate his inquisitive gaze. “i’m fine, though.”

simon huffs as he leers next to you, skilfully flaying pieces of fish with a pensive look. both you and johnny glance at him, which only makes him grunt in response. you furrow your eyebrows at him, urging him to elaborate on what the pressing issue is.

“we reckon shit’s hit the fan with that new bloke of yours.” simon bluntly replies as he wipes off the chopping board with a damp cloth, hands gently scooping up guts, scales and delicate fish bones to dispose of. you scoff, eyes never leaving the cuts of fish meat that rest on a plate, waiting to be delicately battered and fried up.

“whatev—“

“and i know you, you’ll try and refute the truth that i know what’s going on. that we know what’s going on. so, none of this nonsense, alright? what’s up?”

johnny and simon silently watch you, their simultaneous waiting for any reaction from you making your skin crawl. at first, you scowl and huff. shifting your weight from foot to foot as you become defensive. simon cuts you off again, “none of that bollocks. tell the truth.”

you give in. on bated breath, you explain the whole situation. how kilgöre is the kind of man you had never expected to fall for, how he had managed to steal your attention even while being so elusive and secretive. how you desperately want him to come back to you, like he said he would.

johnny frowns, and simon nods in your direction, wiping his blood stained hands with the damp cloth. “fishy hands.” he murmurs, wiggling his fingers to prove he can’t comfort you with a hug. johnny nods, swiftly making his way around the kitchen island to come give you a warm hug. it’s a solid hug, one you’d never object to having. johnny’s large hands rub circles to your back, his bearded chin resting against your shoulder as he sways gently.

simon stands behind johnny, holding eye contact with you as he continued to carefully clean his hands. he raises his eyebrows in thought, before glancing down at his fingernails as he begins to meticulously clean underneath them to rid his skin of all things fish.

“this… kilgöre bloke. i reckon if he’s the one, he’s worth waitin’ for. but don’t think for a second he should get away with leavin’ you this long without so much as a text, yeah? rip ‘im a new one when he comes back.” he advises, glancing back up at you with a slight smirk when he hears you chuckle, your laugh strained with emotion.

he steps closer, carefully tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze better. he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “if he’s the man you think he is, he’ll explain everything if you ask him to. and if he does? great. if he doesn’t?” you wince at the idea, frowning.

he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow.

“then he’s a bloody eejit, as our johnny boy would say.”

[sixosix]

i. summary it was not your intention to seduce lyney, really, he was just already so very weak for you.

lyney being a sucker for you: the drabble

ii. warnings wc 700, this drabble has been in my drafts since i finished sleight of hand LOL. A Little Steamy, but nothing happens, I LOVE FLUSTERED LYNEY!!

“And that’s a wrap! Thank you, everyone; it all went smoothly as planned. Pat yourselves on the back.”

A chorus of exhausted yet elated cheers rings backstage, not enough to rival the crowd outside, yet it is still much more satisfying to hear. Some of the crew went up to Lyney to pat his shoulder, congratulating him for once again another successful show. Lyney takes it all with a dazzling grin and unwavering confidence. Why, of course. We’ve been working day and night for this.

You ceremoniously step forward and give his side a gentle nudge. Lyney responds with a grin as he reciprocates the gesture. “That was a new one. Did you and Lynette practice that secretly to surprise us?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Lyney says, ironically knowing that he’d have to teach his crew about this as you mustn’t repeat the same trick twice.

Lyney spots his sister resting against a wall a few feet later. “You still want to buy that dessert, Lynette?”

Lynette’s eyes flicker to Lyney, then to you. “I’ll just meet you two there,” she tells Lyney, then walks off without waiting for goodbye.

“Huh, well.” People continue to filter out of the backstage, leaving you and Lyney alone in a dimly lit room, with props scattered all around and taking up enough space to have you and Lyney pressed against each other to not stumble over any of them. “Mon amour, how’d you enjoy the show?”

“It was splendid, of course. I especially liked the part where Lynette stole the spotlight—my favorite part of every show.”

“I understand, but be more nice to the star of the show, will you?” He’s deflated like a popped balloon. “I know you know how much work I put in to perfect everything.”

You laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You think I pay attention to you that much?”

Lyney huffs. “You don’t have to be so coy. It’s my job to steal your attention, isn’t it? You’re also my assistant; surely you’ve learned a thing or two about magic tricks?”

“Of course I have,” you cede. “I’ve been watching it all, Lyney, don’t be teased so easily.”

“Well, it just seems to me you haven’t really been paying attention at all,” he feigns a pout.

“Really? Is this a test?” Lyney casts you a sly glance, and you return it with a scoff. “I’ve seen how you deceive them with your actions, distract them with your hands.” You nudge his chest with two fingers, and in the silence, you can hear how Lyney swallows air at the proximity. “You’ve got quite the skill with them.”

“You’ve been watching them pretty closely,” Lyney says quietly.

“Isn’t that the point? It just proves how talented of a magician you are.”

His face is a comical shade of red. He’s weak like that.

“What I learned while being part of your troupe, however, is that I could be saying anything, and my audience wouldn’t really care.” You trail your fingers up, and up, slowly, and Lyney’s breath all but hitches once you reach his neck. “Because I’m making you watch my hands—bring all your attention to what I do and not what I say.”

“Yeah,” Lyney agrees absentmindedly, like a hypnotized man—the irony.

And it’s then you realize that he isn’t looking at your hand at all. His eyes are gazing intensely right below your nose—entranced by how your lips move to mouth your words. You suppose that it still counts as a distraction.

Your fingers reach out to cup his chin, leveling him with a look of disbelief. “Lyney?”

His entire face is a tomato, and half-words are caught in the back of his throat. He gapes at you and looks as if he’s at war with himself.

You hold back a laugh. “I’m surprised you weren’t so critical to a newbie. Did I do that well?”

“That wasn’t fair, and you know it,” he replied weakly after a moment of finding his voice. He then hides his face behind his fingers. “Don’t go around doing that. You can’t try to captivate an audience already so enamored with you.”

“Ah…” Now you feel flustered. “Let’s—Let’s just go meet up with Lynette.” You can’t handle staying in this room for another minute.

[yorsgirl]

Perfect Choice

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Sukuna didn't know getting you as his girlfriend would mean he had to step up and watch you try on a hundred dresses.

OR

In which you take Sukuna for dress shopping.

Tropes: Fluff, Established relationship

Warnings: suggestive, No Curse AU, Human!Sukuna, Sukuna is Sukuna, healthy relationship, kinda OOC, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 2.7k

Sukuna didn't sign up for this.

Watching you choose through a rack of dresses wasn't on his list of fun things. It was a chore, at most. He'd much rather be sitting before his PC with his headphones on and play COD than be standing in a fashion boutique.

"Aww c'mon, don't make that face now," You stifle the urge to chuckle at his obviously irritated expression.

He rolls his eyes, pushing his hand in his pocket. He should have never agreed to accompany you in your little find the right dress expedition.

And he would have said no, if only you didn't conjure your eyes into one of the cutest baby faces while jutting out your lower lip. On top of that, you had to go with the little – Please, at the end.

How could he not give in?

God, he was weak in front of that expression. Not that he'll ever admit it out loud. But he thinks, you already know that.

"Would you like to try that on, Ma'am?" An attendant approaches the both of you, gesturing to the dress you have in hand.

You pursue your lips and nod, "Yes but I would like to see some more."

"May I know the type of dress you require?"

"An evening gown," You knit your eyebrows but keep the smile. "Its a formal party so if you could..." You trail off and the attendant gets the message as she points the trial room for you and leaves to get some more dress which you can try.

"When will this end?" Sukuna sighs and mutters under his breath.

"When I find my dress, come." You turn on your heels and start walking.

"Why should I?" He asks exasparately.

"Don't you want to see me try them on?"

"I don't care."

"Well, too bad." You give him a sheepish smile. "You have to. Now, follow." You command, skipping over to the trial rooms to which he grumbles something under his breath but follows regardless.

There are four trial rooms, each one has a stool with multiple hooks on the left wall and two full length mirrors. Outside, a small yet broad lane passes before them with a common full length mirror situated on one wall. Opposite to which there is a white couch.

Good for both of you, its a weekday so there isn't much rush and the trial rooms are free. The attendant returns with a few other dresses, hangs them up in a room and leaves.

You look at Sukuna, "Just cause you agreed to come, I will let you have the first pick." You point to the flurry of dresses hanging on the hooks.

Pick a dress? Like he knows anything about them in the first place. His crimson eyes flicker with annoyance as they narrow, "Just wear whatever you want, woman."

"I will wear whatever you pick." You say confidently and his lip twitches but he doesn't let the smirk show yet.

"I don't know shit about your shitty dresses."

"Then you'll learn something, today." You tease which earns you a scowl from him. "Pick one."

He groans, momentarily glancing up at the ceiling then turning to the dresses. He doesn't even take two seconds before pointing the one at center.

"Orange?"

"Yes."

"Fine," With a smile on your face, you enter the trial room and start to get changed.

He sighs and sits down on the couch. It'd be a long day but at least he gets to sit.

Sukuna wants to laugh. Previously, he wouldn't have taken a second look at these stores and now he is waiting for you to get changed in any of them and put on a show for him.

Just what have you reduced him into? He swears, you are a witch behind that pretty facade.

Three minutes later, he hears the door being unlocked. You come out and you are... glaring at him.

"Your choice sucks." You declare as soon as you step out of the trial room.

Sukuna has to stifle the snort on the brink of his lips. He obviously didn't care while making the pick and its showing. You are wearing the orange dress he chose and it's a clear indication that it's a - No. With a large bow on the black waistband and the number of layers of skirt, it looks like you are inflated.

But your fury is amusing so he retorts back, "You're my choice."

"Yeah, the only place it did not suck."  You shoot back and march inside the trial room without waiting for his response. Finally, he can let out the snicker.

You come out a few minutes later wearing a green dress. You take a spin, "So?"

"Add feathers and wings, you can cosplay a parrot." He mocks.

"Still better than your pick."

"Really? You are picking this?" He raises an eyebrow, you stay silent and walk back into the trial room. The answer is clear. No.

You come out wearing another one, its got a white bodice, a pink belt and a dark (he doesn't know what exactly it is except it looks like the middle color between grey and blue) skirt. The conclusion is apparent: it's hideous.

"And you got the nerve to say my choice sucks?" He lips curl up into a smirk and you glare at him.

"We all have our moments." You shrug, taking a twirl in it. Looking at your reflection, you grunt, "God, I look ugly."

"The dress is ugly," He corrects, leaning back on the couch, just then the attendant returns. His eyes move to her, lips curving down in a disapproving grin. "What are you, blind?

"Sor–"

"Does your choice range from a grandma to clowns?" He remarks with a roll of his eyes.

"Sukuna!" You exclaim in panic. Forcing a smile on your lips, you glance at the attendant. "Ah- sorry, he didn't mean that..."

"Of course I di–"

"We'd see something in different style," You say before your boyfriend can run his mouth. You shoot him a glare and he shoots back another.

Keep your mouth shut.

No.

Yes.

Try me.

It's like you are communicating with eyes alone and a grin stretches on his lips and boy... that isn't good news. He is again about to say something but you speak first.

"Can you bring us something more modern and maybe... formal?"

"As you say, ma'am." The attendant answers politely, walking out of the room.

You shoot Sukuna a scowl, "Are you crazy?"

"I call it honesty." He says with conviction. "Don't tell me you really liked any one of these shits."

He may not be a dress expert but he knows a good outfit when he sees one and among the ones you tried on, they are level below of what is considered good.

He knows he's right, your frown shows as you shake your head.

You again vanish into the changing room, the attendant arrives with a few more dresses for you before leaving you two alone again.

"I'll be quick."

He hears you from inside and he wants to say - make it quicker, but he can't. The last thing he wants is you sulking all day cause you couldn't find your perfect dress. And even though, you wouldn't bother him but he will be bothered just by looking at that expression.

"Take your time, I am here."

You don't answer but he thinks you have heard him. For the next fifteen minutes, you try on a few dresses. They are better than the first three, still not up to the mark. Either mobility is a problem or the fabric being tight around certain areas or the color being unflattering.

Sukuna has his phone out and he is scrolling through his messages when he hears you curse from the trial room (his ears are sharp).

"What happened?" He asks, standing up from the couch.

"This is... bad."

"How much?"

"Borderline stripper."

That catches his interest, his eyebrow twitches. Would something really that revealing be in a fashion boutique? Considering, its one of the posh stores in city, the chances are slim.

"Can't be."

"It is," You quickly reply.

"Prove me wrong then," He adds, crossing his hands over his chest. "Come out."

You don't speak for a minute and he opens his mouth but you croak out a, "come here." Sukuna obliges quickly, standing before your door when the lock turns and he sees you.

It's like all his blood ran down to his manhood.

You are wearing a black full sleeved dress. The color is flattering. And it would have been fine if it was just that but it isn't.

The V neckline runs too deep to the end of your chest, revealing your skin and your side breasts. A shimmering belt adorns your waist, a slit emerges from your right thigh giving him the full view of your exposed leg.

Sukuna could feel his throat going dry and stomach tightening. His finger twitches and he wants to feel your skin on his. He swallows a lump, trying to keep himself from staring at your tits which would have spilled out if not for the tight fabric (as if that does any good either as it only sticks to you as a second skin). He tears his eyes off the cleavage window, returning to your face.

"And?"

And what? This is a no. He wants to say that.

The dress itself isn't bad and you look good in it. But its too revealing and he's too much of a selfish man to let the lust filled eyes of those shitheads from campus wander on your body.

No, that's not permeable. No way in hell is he going to let others see you in that way.

He clears his throat and answers, "If you want everyone looking at your chest then go on."

"Told you, its bad." You place your hand on your waist and lean a bit forward. He has to resist his eyes from wandering below to your breasts and cleavage which is accentuated by your new pose.

A fire alights in his body and his thoughts are flickering to a direction he doesn't want them to. Still, the temptation of running his fingertips on your– NO.

He shakes his head. "Remove this dress."

You need to remove this dress. He needs you out of this dress.

He pauses before quickly adding, "change into another."

Yeah, that's what he meant, obviously. You need to change into another dress.

You nod and pivot around, he is trying not to stare at your the curve of your ass. You push your hair to one side, glancing at him from the periphery. "Can you uh... can you unzip it? The sleeves are tight."

The dress was already enough of a problem, now your insane request.

He complies wordlessly. Each second feels like eternity to him, your zipper comes down in a agonizing slow pace. And he has to refrain himself from pressing his lips on your nape.

He steps away from the room as the door closes. He clenches his fist and curses under his breath, "Fuck..."

"I'll take a trip to the washroom." He shouts to let you know and is stomping out before you can answer.

He doesn't realize that his face is red and he is sweating until he reaches the stalls.

.

Now you are staring at yourself on the common mirror of the lane.

A pink gown reaching till your ankles, its got poofy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Sequins adorns the bodice, small glitter stars on the white net over the skirt.

Sukuna watches from behind you, his arms folded over his chest. A ghost of a smile on his lips, "Like it, princess?"

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at him from the mirror. The corner of your lip curls involuntarily, "Princess?"

"Do look like one while wearing that." He answers.

You know it's not his attempt at flirting, he's being honest but the your cheeks tinge just a bit of red.

You playfully roll your eyes, pushing the strands of hair from your eyes, "I am more eligible for a queen."

He already believes you are his queen. But he'd never say it out loud to you but anyone who knows him, they know that you are his queen. You are his.

"Like it or not?" He questions again, watching as your fingertips glide over the garment.

Pressing on the larger sequins and the broach placed over your heart. He notes the uncertainty clear in your expression, the hesitance clear. You are bothered, somehow.

"I mean... it's good and the color's nice and there- there's no problem but its uh..." You pause, trying to find the right words. "What should I say? It's Uhm..."

"Too much?" He offers.

"Too much."

His crimson irises meet yours in the mirror. The tender stare isn't missed, stark contrast to his attitude half an hour ago. No words are spoken in between but its almost like a conversation is held in gaze alone.

After a second, both of your lips stretches into a smile (his looks like a smirk more).

"Am I indecisive?"

"You have tried almost ten dresses, woman." He states with a roll of eyes. "Of course, you are."

You frown and Sukuna wants to hit himself for making that comment.

"I can take thi–"

"Now don't settle for something which you obviously don't like," He interrupts you. "The last thing I want is my girl wearing something she hates."

You have to pinch your lips together to not let the smile show but it's damn difficult when he has that smirk on his face and blood rushes to your cheek.

There's just something that happens when he calls you his.

You march up to the changing room, "Want to make another awful choice for me?"

His answer would have been no but he can't say that cause he wants to pick a dress for you.

No, he wouldn't admit that it's fun. He is just... amused. Yes, amused.

He looks at the dresses again. And by look, he is actually looking. Analyzing the styles, colors and fabric before he points the one at right.

"Red?"

"Red."

"Red it is," You affirm and step into the room again.

He leans against the wall of the common area, scrolling through his phone to kill time. But the wait is killing him and the device doesn't distract his impatience to see you in his pick.

After a minute, he hears your voice, "This is it."

Curiosity plagues him again, he straightens himself up and you step outside.

You are glowing.

Sukuna's breath hitches in his throat, eyes widening just slightly. He takes every inch of your form, engraving it in his mind.

The dress isn't one with complex designs or embellishments. A simple off-shoulder red dress reaching till your ankles accentuating the waist and the skirt then flows all the way out.

Less is more; whoever said that, they were damn right.

However, it isn't the dress that has him transfixed. It's the fact that you are smiling. You are twirling. You are posing. You are beaming.

"It's perfect," You tell him, taking a spin as the skirt twirls in the air and you giggle like a kid.

It is. The dress is perfect. You are perfect.

"Like it, princess?" He asks even though he knows the answer, he wants to hear it from you.

You look at him with disbelief still with the smile. "Like it? Oh no, I don't like it. I love it."

You skip over to him, still beaming. Standing on your tip toes, you press your lips on his cheek. "Thank you." You express while grinning.

You don't get a second to react when Sukuna grabs your chin, tilting your face aside and smashes his lips on yours. Heat rushes to your face when you feel him smirk against your lips.

The curve of his mouth still remains even when he lets you go. "Thank me properly, princess."

"Will this nickname go on?"

He pushes a strand of your hair back your ear, "Now and forever." He pulls you in for a kiss again and you happily oblige.

.

When he is driving you back home, the dress packed in a bag and rests in the backseat. You are still smiling while looking out the window.

He keeps on taking secret glimpses of you once in a while. A thought stick his mind.

Sure, he never signed up for this but he is 100% sure that he made the perfect choice.

Either in dress or you.

He has made the perfect choice.

His hand involuntarily reaches for yours which rests on your thigh. Interlocking your fingers, he brings it up and brushes his lips on the back of your hand.

You take a peek at him which he returns it with a grin, his canines glinting in the dim light.

"Next time you go shopping, you are calling me."

A/N: There's a lack of Sukuna fluff in tumblr and I was in desperate need for some soft moments. Hence, I wrote this. Hope you liked it! Likes and comments are appreciated :)

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You're nursing a crush on Eddie from afar but you're from the dark side, he hates you doesn't he? So you begin to leave anonymous notes to Eddie complimenting him.

Gareth finds out...but so does Jason and he wants revenge.

Warnings; Secret admirer, angst, mention of the word slut, little bit of fluff.

This has been my brainrot for the last few days, enjoy 🫶💌

💌💞

You knew Eddie hated you. Being from the dark side as he put it, there was no doubt that you were public enemy number one in Eddie's eyes. Quietly you nursed a crush on him that only grew with each passing day.

No one knew who your crush was, only that you were pining for someone who didn't like you back.

"You could have anyone at this school, Tina snaps why do you insist on pining over some loser who doesn't give a shit about you?" You didn't know how to answer that, you didn't want just anyone, you wanted Eddie.

But you could never tell him. He would think it was a joke or some ploy concocted by Jason, so you were left with only daydreams and small hopes that one day Eddie might notice you.

Secretly you began to leave anonymous notes in his locker, just little compliments to brighten his day and watched from the sidelines as he discovered each one, at first he angrily disregarded them as a joke. Then he softened and a faint blush would creep up his cheeks as he read your words, a small smile on his face once he realised that they were genuine.

One day Gareth caught you putting the note in Eddie's locker, looked at you stunned and with a questioning gaze.

"It's been you all along" you nod, eyes filling with tears at the thought of Eddie finding out and hating you even more.

"Please don't tell him. He already hates everything about me and my friends," Gareth still gapes at you as you gather your things and rush away from the scene.

... 💌

Gareth struggled with hiding who Eddie's secret admirer was, now he knew it was you and you begging him not to tell Eddie he was in a bind. What the hell was he supposed to do with this information? On one hand Eddie was his friend and he couldn't keep secrets from him.

On the other hand, you seemed really sweet and obviously had been crushing on Eddie for a long time. He didn't know what to do, so he turned to Jeff for advice and swore him to secrecy.

It was completely unknown to him that a seething Jason had heard everything and was planning to teach you a lesson. How could you like that freak Munson? He shakes his head in disgust and formulated a plan.

He waits until no one is around and steals a few notes you left Eddie from Eddie's locker.

... 💌

There's immense chatter as you head into the school the next day, Chrissy is furiously arguing with Jason which surprises you. Chrissy rarely if ever got mad.

"Look, here's the star of the show now" Jason sneers and you frown confused and push your way to the crowd in front of your locker.

Humiliation seeps into your bones as you see your notes to Eddie spread across your locker. Hellfire Slut is written in red ink. Jason is now howling with laughter, others look sympathetic but don't move to help.

Chrissy pushes past everyone and helps gather up the notes while glaring daggers at Jason, you offer her a weak smile.

Tears pool down your cheeks but what makes matters worse is that Eddie is standing rigid a little bit away from the whole scene and gazing at the notes. He knows everything now and your misery deepens.

You flee once his eyes meet yours.

💌

Eddie can feel the slow burn of rage course through his veins. He didn't like violence, it reminded him too much of his old man but just this once he lets the anger wash over him at the image of your tearstained face.

He walks calmly over to a smug Jason who looks ready to make some stupid comments. Eddie doesn't give him a chance, he punches the douchebag right in his face and then sets off to find you.

For a while Eddie searches for you but concedes that you must have gone home. His knuckle is bruised and bleeding from hitting Carver but he doesn't regret it.

Eddie hopes he can find you tomorrow so he can get some answers from you, he was rapidly falling in love with his anon admirer and if it really was you, he wanted to know.

It surprises Eddie that the thought of you being his admirer doesn't bother him. You're part of the dark side but so obviously different to Jason and his goons, and he was falling for you hard through those notes. Maybe he could finally get to know you for real?

Later as he heads back to the trailer, Wayne tuts as he sees Eddie's bruised knuckles and sighs. "Was it at least worth it son?" Eddie doesn't even have to think twice as he replies.

"Yeah Uncle Wayne, it really was"

💌