#i don't exactly remember when i did these but i must not have been in the best mind set xdddd

[warping-realities]

A Better Brighter Future

A brief explanation, this story is a spinoff of Dalton Academy, you don't need to have read that series to understand this story, but you will miss some references. The themes here are also controversial and I need to remind everyone that just because I wrote it doesn't mean I agree with what's happening! Otherwise, a great read for anyone interested!

Director Horace Johnson wasn’t having a good week; in fact, the week he was having was bloody dreadful. The blonde, skinny bloke, fifty years old, had dedicated a good chunk of his adult life to educating young people, finding that calling shortly after leaving university. A staunch defender of human rights and a proponent of positive education, he faced all sorts of problems with reactionary teachers throughout his career, none worse than Ethan Wood, the former PE teacher at King Richard All Boys Institute, affectionately referred to by everyone in the tiny village of Daffodil-Meadow-Over-The-Hill as Lionheart School. However, after numerous run-ins over the three years he’d been the head of that institution, he finally got fed up with the other bloke's speeches, attitudes, and teaching style, and thanks to an anonymous tip about some dodgy behaviour that led to his dismissal, nearly all the students and many of the  teachers breathed a sigh of relief; that sort of hardline, oppressive treatment had no place in today’s world. The one thing Horace couldn’t imagine was the struggle to find a replacement who shared his progressive ideals, not to mention the fact that he had to deal with the backlash from some conservative parents, teachers, and board members. Just another battle they were fighting; he should have known, it was like that when he banned the posh uniforms or tried to authorise the use of gender-neutral pronouns – one battle won, another lost. But he was determined to come out on top again; he refused to put another outdated troglodyte in that position. A better, brighter future was the motto of that school, and he was going to make it happen.

While he was mulling over these issues, sitting in his office with a good cup of tea, his privacy was invaded. With a loud BAM, the door to his office was flung open, causing him to quickly raise his eyes from the document he was reading, only to see the monstrous figure striding towards him. A black man in his thirties, dressed in a polo shirt, tracky bottoms, and trainers, exuding the brash vibe of a sports coach, swaggered confidently in his direction. He couldn’t remember scheduling any interview, and certainly not with someone so rude, who gave off exactly the impression of the type of professional he refused to hire.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to leave this room; I’m busy and we haven’t got a time booked!” he said, standing up and positioning himself beside his desk, noting the absurd difference in build and muscle between the two.

“And since when do old mates need permission to see you, Henry?”

“That’s not my name!”

“I know that, Henderson, you tosser, but if you reckon I’m not gonna use your nickname just because you’re the head honcho of a fancy school now, you’re sorely mistaken. Just wait until the lads on the rugby team find out the Steamroller Henry is all posh now; they’ll be laughing their heads off!”

“Sir, I… I don’t know what you’re on about… I insist you leave!”

“Now that’s the Henry I know, always ready to pull a fast one on his mates.” The man said, slumping down in the armchair opposite his desk. “But enough of the banter, mate. After you got in touch, I did a bit of digging into what’s going on around here, and you’ve got some serious problems. Losing a bloke like Ethan Wood must have been a right kick in the teeth, especially after scrapping the uniforms; they might have been a bit too posh, but they helped maintain a sense of unity and shared identity. Good on you for getting rid of that daft idea of using gender-neutral pronouns. Still, mate, I can see why you need me here. Transforming these crybabies into real men can’t be easy, but don’t you worry; you called the right person!”

“I… what…? I don’t get it…”

“What’s hard to understand, Henry? You need help to rein in this progressive agenda that’s trying to take root here, so you called your old uni mate Blake Ian Garret, The BIG and said, ‘Mate, I need your help with these wankers trying to sabotage me; old Wood is out, I need you for the job!’”

“I… Blake… BI… BIG, then… do you accept?”

“Of course I do, you muppet; it’s exactly what I’ve been banging on about! That whisky you’re drinking is probably messing with your already dodgy brain. I wonder how they let you become a director, Henry; not that I’m complaining, we need more blokes like us in charge.”

“I also wonder how I ended up here; I only became a teacher because that dodgy Wood promised to pass on his job to me when he retired, and next thing I know, I’m stuck in this boring role and now I have to give the job I wanted to an arse.” He said with fake exasperation. 

“Shut it, mate; I know you missed having another real man around here, and while I explain how things work in the place I was working, why don’t you pour me a bit of that drink? I think you’ll love hearing about Dalton Academy.” The man commented, noticing the change happening in Horace Johnson. In a blur of movement, the skinny man’s body expanded in muscle and height, while the wrinkles vanished from his face and his blonde hair started to grow back where it had receded. In less than a second, Henderson “Henry” Johnson found himself grinning, offering a glass of whisky that hadn’t been there before to his old university friend and now professor Blake Garret, The BIG in his realm.

“A toast to the best hire I could have made,” he said, raising the glass to his old friend, who broke into a wide smile.

“To a better and brighter future, indeed!”

…..

The students and teachers didn’t know why they were gathered in the school gym. The summons came from Director Johnson himself, and they knew they had to comply quickly, as the man had a military rigidity about that sort of thing, not tolerating any behaviour he deemed lazy. So, what a surprise it was for everyone to see that it wasn’t Henry Johnson heading to the packed gym.

“Good morning, gentlemen! My name’s Blake Garret and I’m the new PE teacher here at Lionheart. The director Johnson and I have known each other for a long time; we were university mates and teammates, and he’s shared with me his concerns about the behaviour and ideals presented here. This nation is infected, gentlemen. Infected by a parasite called progressivism. Progress should be encouraged, yes, but with proper control, guided by the ideas of our parents and ancestors. Progress for the sake of progress should be discouraged!” He said, striding across the gym floor like a caged beast ready to break free, pausing only to observe the indignant faces of some teachers and a few students who bothered to pay attention to what he was saying. But that was about to change, and it was going to be now. “When Henry told me that the infection was spreading here too, I couldn’t believe it. I said to him, ‘Surely not, Henry, my dear. Lionheart is a beacon of clarity amidst a stormy sea of harmful ideas; the teachers are exemplars of masculinity and manliness, and the students are the pinnacle to which every young man in this nation should aspire; surely there’s no such behaviour here.’ But… but now that I’m here, I see! Gentlemen, my eyes fill with tears at what Lionheart is.” He said, taking another pause to take in the disgusted expressions before finally finishing what he had come to do there. “Tears, yes, tears of pride! For you are much more than I imagined, gentlemen. You are paragons of masculinity, the example of what every man should aspire to be; you haven’t allowed yourselves to be contaminated by the corruption attacking our country from within; you are what gives me hope for the future of our great nation.” He said, resuming his frenetic pacing, and with every step he took, the audience transformed; teachers, students, staff, all expanding in size while ideas and thoughts shrank, casual clothes being replaced by training gear that showcased their muscular and defined bodies, while a powerful funk that only dozens of sweaty gathered men could produce dominated the atmosphere, not that anyone there cared about it.

“That was a brilliant welcome drill, lads; now off to the showers and back to your uniforms for your lessons. Teachers, I ask you to stay a bit longer; I need to know about any absent students today.”

….

Franklin was in deep trouble; he missed the bus to school and had to walk all the way from the village of Grimchurch to Daffodil Meadow, which wasn’t pleasant for a skinny, asthmatic kid. The worst part was that he ended up terribly late for school, and knowing the kind of reception he would get, he thought about just not going, but that would bring even bigger complications, so he decided to face his fate with resignation. He was greeted by the guard, who merely directed him to one of the classrooms where a teacher would speak to the late students and administer the necessary punishment. Sighing with resignation, he headed to the indicated location, but upon arriving, something stopped him from entering the room; some sort of primitive alert resonating within his mind. Peeking through the corner of the window, he saw a teacher he didn’t recognise, a tall and very strong man with skin as dark as his own, talking to Bernard, Vincent, and Timothy, three of the biggest truants at Lionheart, who were looking at him with bored expressions. But then, in the blink of an eye, the unthinkable happened; the boys he had known all his life were replaced by larger, stronger, muscular versions, wearing uniforms and smiling as if they were getting drunk on every word the teacher was saying, words which Franklin couldn’t hear. But then the teacher approached the door, and he could hear the end of the speech.

“… rowing at the end of the day; you lot are to be congratulated, I wouldn’t be surprised if any of you ended up representing England at the Olympics. Oh, before you go, Bert and Victor, you’re in the same class as Franklin Burke, right? If you see him, let me know; I need to have a word with the lad, the same goes for you, Tom.”

Hearing that, Franklin took off running, desperate, not fully understanding what he had witnessed but knowing the risk he was in; he urgently needed to get out of there. In his despair, he didn’t notice that the man had left the room and smiled when he saw a skinny kid running toward the changing rooms.

Franklin thought the safest way to escape the trap he had fallen into would be through the school gym, which should be empty at that hour. Sneaking in as quietly as possible, he finally reached the changing area; he just needed to cross it and head to the football pitch, which would be free from whatever was happening there. But there was a hitch: someone was using the changing room. Quickly hiding behind the door, he saw the stranger swaggering arrogantly through the space. Recently out of the shower and wearing only a jock strap, the muscular Chinese lad strutted as if he owned the place. Stopping in front of the mirror, he admired himself. Who could he have been before? No… no… Lionheart only had one Chinese student. That must be… Anshen? Franklin’s best mate… no… this was a nightmare.

“I can see you there, mate!” said the muscular lad, crossing his arms. “Coach BIG is looking for you. I wouldn’t irritate the bloke if I were you.” He added with a cheeky grin. Having been discovered, Franklin stepped out of hiding.

“Anshen… is that you?”

“The name’s Ashton, Franklin. Honestly, how could you forget the name of the captain of the school swimming team?” he said, acting as if that made him the most important person in the room. Without even glancing to the side, he brushed past that aberration towards the corridor leading to the football pitch.

“Hey, mate, the coach’s office is the other way!” shouted the other lad, but Franklin didn’t pay him any mind. He was running anxiously toward the door that was his salvation. Only to see it swing open and the monstrous giant that was walking toward him with a grin. Between the two giants, he chose to face the smaller of the two and took off running in the direction he had come from, without seeing the smile fade from the man's face or hearing him grumble.

“Don’t know why they run…”

Upon reaching the door of the changing room he had just passed through a few seconds ago, he found it locked. How? Ashton must have locked it. Franklin grunted as he cursed the other lad with every ounce of strength not being used to try to open the door.

“It’s useless, lad. Your fate was sealed the moment you set foot in this school. But you know what? I like you; you’ve got fire in you. Turn around.” The man said with authority, and Franklin felt his body obey against his will. Gathering courage, he faced the man.

“Who are you? What are you?”

“What I am is something to be answered another time. Now, who am I? Frankly, Farrel, that’s no way to speak to your godfather.” Coach BIG replied, seemingly hurt, although a slight tremor at the corner of his lips indicated he was actually enjoying himself.

“What? Godfather? I don’t have a godfather and I don’t even know who you are! And who the hell is Farrel?”

“Farrel is my godson; a lad, strong and sure of what he wants. A man who knows a man’s rightful place in society. He’s a bit of a rogue, the type who’s too smart for his own good, always finding a way to dodge consequences. Except when he’s on the pitch; he’s the captain of the rugby team and takes that role seriously, even knowing his future lies in politics, thanks to the silver tongue he possesses. In short, Farrel is you, you great numpty. Now that it’s just the two of us in my office, come give your godfather a hug.”

“I… what? No…!” Franklin stammered as he felt his legs move on their own and a dreamy smile form on his lips, even as he internally screamed in anxiety.

Anxiety? He never got anxious! At least not off the pitch. There he was a monster, a bull. But off it? Off it, he was the face of relaxation. Chill out and have a laugh was Farrel Burke’s motto! Thought the muscular black giant that few would believe was only eighteen years old. While he put on the school uniform in his godfather’s office, admiring his beautiful body and smiling.

“Farrel? Farrel! Bloody hell, lad, can’t you pay attention for a minute?”

“Sorry, Uncle BIG… I mean… Coach BIG… oops… Professor Garret.”

“If you weren’t my godson, I’d give you a right telling off, lad, and just because I’m your godfather doesn’t mean you can use my office as if it were your personal changing room.”

“If you hadn’t dragged me from the changing room, I wouldn’t need to finish getting dressed here!”

“Is that a dig at my behaviour, lad?” BIG asked seriously, his eyes glinting dangerously.

“No, sir, professor. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” The lad replied, sensing the danger.

“Great. As I was saying, I want to implement some of the ideas I brought from Dalton; while you finish getting ready, let me talk to you about the clubs…”

…..

By the end of that week, BIG’s initial work was complete; there were no more students or teachers left to be improved. The uniforms had returned to being the norm, and all the lads were required to be part of at least one of the school’s sports teams. Moreover, the social clubs had been formed, ensuring that the lads, even after school ended, would have a reason to return to Lionheart and not forget what they had learned there. BIG was proud of what he had accomplished, and those above him were too. Now it was time for the expansion phase, to take what was taught at Lionheart outside the school’s walls and fields. BIG’s approach was different from that taken at Dalton; times were different, and in the war they were waging against those who wanted to remove men from their rightful place, there was no room for the discretion adopted by the sister school. Europe was falling too quickly; it was necessary to be more incisive. That’s why Lionheart would focus not only on creating the leaders of tomorrow but a whole generation of influencers, and sport would be their flagship. And there was no sport more popular worldwide than football. Knowing this, the Lionheart team became a priority for BIG, and he created a particularly talented and charismatic group, but they still lacked a coach of the right calibre. But that would soon be resolved, and quickly too; normally, BIG liked to savour the moment he transformed a pathetic figure into a real man. However, as the mass transformation of the first day showed, when the need was pressing, he acted fast. And that Sunday morning, it was needed again. While the lads prepared for training, the stands of the school filled with students from other teams, but also with parents and locals from the surrounding towns. This would be exhausting. And the cherry on top was the old man walking across the field with an angry look directed at BIG, who returned the scorn before breaking into a smile.

Zachariah Hastings, a member of the school board and a staunch conservative, which in theory should please BIG, but the problem was that the old codger was too conservative. Homophobic and racist, he seemed to boil inside the outdated suit he was wearing at that moment. He indeed represented that mythical figure of patriarchy that the snowflakes loved to point out as the cause of all ills: the white, heterosexual, cisgender man. BIG had nothing against a man who was all those things; on the contrary. The problem was that this figure represented everything that the enemies of the brotherhood of men took pleasure in using to attack. BIG’s group merely wanted to return men to their rightful place in society; they didn’t care about race, religion, whether you were an immigrant or who you slept with. Implicating with those things only created divisions, pushing men away from the real goal. And it was precisely for that reason that Zachariah had to go. Without any fanfare or manipulation, in one moment, the old codger was there with a bewildered expression, as if he knew what awaited him, and in the next moment, a fine specimen of a black man, very much like BIG himself, stood in his place, while every man in that audience became an upgraded ally, and BIG enthusiastically announced to everyone the arrival of the legendary Zeke Hastings, newly retired player from Manchester City and multiple-time champion of the Premier League, Champions League, and Euro Cup, to take the position of coach for the school’s football team, sending all the men in that place into a frenzy of delight, while BIG himself smiled, satisfied that the first part of his duty was finally fulfilled.

**Two months earlier**

Barret couldn’t stop tapping his foot while waiting in the posh waiting room of Dalton Academy; after all, this was his big chance, even if he didn’t understand why an American school would be interested in an English literature teacher. Although the whole place reeked of Old Money, perhaps that justified the interest in him.

“You can come in, Mr. Garret.” A metallic voice startled Barret, who looked around for the source, but found none. Collecting himself, he stood up, straightened his suit, and opened the massive door to the office. What he saw there gave him a sense of strangeness. Smiling and walking towards him in a space much larger than would be possible, was a handsome lad, no more than eighteen years old. Was this some sort of prank by the posh students?

“Come in, Mr. Garrett. Barret Garret; your parents had an interesting sense of humour; I would have certainly liked them…” commented the smiling young man before frowning. “Why the scared face? Ahhh, I always forget these modern conventions; in my day, this would already be the appearance of an adult man.” The young man said, his face concentrating, and then, as if by magic, he began to walk towards an office desk that Barret could have sworn hadn’t been there seconds before. When he reached the desk a blonde, older, and muscular man wearing a slightly less formal outfit smiled at Barret. 

“I think you’ll prefer this appearance, my dear. You can call me Mr. Edgar. And even though I’ve used a bit of trickery to bring you here, since unfortunately there’s no place for you on Dalton’s faculty, by the time we finish our conversation, it’ll be as if you know the place better than you do yourself, and I guarantee the goal I have in mind for you will leave you quite satisfied. Put a smile on that face and step in.” Even against his will, in that incomprehensible situation, Barret found himself smiling and stepped into the creature’s lair.

If anyone who wasn’t an active member of Dalton was watching what was going on, they would have been shocked. But within those walls, it was almost routine. A young, well-dressed black man hesitating in front of a portal, only to, upon crossing it, see his body modify and expand, while he aged a few years, though that only made him even more charming; his slow steps transforming into the confident stride of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. And anyone who knew Blake Ian Garret, coach BIG, could tell that that impression would be correct, though incomplete. BIG not only knew what he wanted but would also do everything in his power to achieve his goals. And those goals at the moment consisted of returning to England to find a way to occupy a position at Lionheart School, which conveniently was established on top of one of the largest dormant power points of the old country, but which only needed a spark to awaken. A spark that Mr. Edgar handed to him, only demanding in return that he use that power to ensure that the occupants of the place, both the established ones and those who would come, and even the unsuspecting traveler passing through, became the right kind of men. The exact type that BIG himself represented.

….

**6 months later**

“Son, I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think. I survived high school; you will too.”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to be transferred in the middle of the second year to a school with the highest concentration of wanker athletes that would have certainly made your life a nightmare.”

“Duncan, I understand; I was transferred as well, remember? I need to make friends at work too.”

“Dad, that’s completely different; none of your colleagues are going to shove your head in a toilet or anything like that.”

“I’m sure that only happens in films, Duncan.”

The pair of overweight blonde father and son walked through the corridors of the Lionheart Institute towards Director Johnson. The truth is that even Alex, the father, was not comfortable with that arrangement, but there was nothing to be done; Lionheart was the best school in the area, and he refused to send his son away from him. Duncan was a shy and reserved kid, just like he had been at that age. That school would be a challenge, but any other would be too, and there he would be close by if something happened.

“Dad, didn’t you read the articles I sent you? This journalist, Aaryan Patel, wrote a series of them talking about what goes on here; all the students here, regardless of where they came from, are some kind of athletes; some have even competed in the Olympics. And there’s more; all of them have behaviour described as toxic; some have been banned from giving interviews; some bloke named Ashton Zhang won a bronze medal in Paris but said so much rubbish about the opening ceremony that he almost got banned from competing.”

“Well, then they’ll know what it’s like to have a mathlete among them now! And who knows, you might become a good influence on them or even get motivated to take up some sport; exercise does wonders for a young lad.”

“Says the man who’s never set foot on a court in his life…”

“Duncan, enough! You’re coming to study here, and that’s final.” The father snapped, as he noticed a giant figure approaching confidently down the corridor.

“But Dad, I think Aaryan Patel has a point…”

“Duncan! I don’t want to hear you talking about Aaryan Patel anymore!”

“You do quite well.” Commented the giant black man approaching them, his smile vanishing upon hearing that name. “Mr. Patel has only been defaming the good name of this school with lies and distortions, when what he should be doing is praising the performance of our students in all areas of life. I’m Professor Garret and I believe you are Archibald and Duncan, am I right?”

“In fact, my name is Alexander…”

“Ah, some misunderstanding then.” Commented the professor with a cheeky smile before continuing. “Director Johnson should have welcomed you, but he had a slight hiccup and asked me to do it for him. I thought I’d chat with you, Archibald, while one of the lads shows Duncan around the school. Where is that rascal? Ah, here he comes.” Professor Garret finished speaking without giving Alexander a chance to correct him about the name error, although he himself had forgotten it when he saw the lad strutting down the corridor, almost like a mini version of the professor. Although saying that anything about that lad was mini would be an affront. Broad shoulders and strong limbs pushing the limits of the school’s smart black uniform, made up of a full suit, tie, and dress shoes that must have been tailor-made to fit the boats that were his feet, the overall effect was one of sophistication but also of dominance and confidence that left Alexander gaping and Duncan, who was already fearful, completely terrified.

“Good day, Coach BIG… hum… Professor Barret; good day, sir.” The lad said politely, although a mischievous sparkle danced in his eyes.

“Farrell, my boy. Would you be so kind as to show the school’s facilities to Duncan here while Archie and I have a chat?”

“With pleasure, Professor Garret. Would you be so kind as to accompany me, Duncan?” He said, positioning himself next to the other lad who, although overweight, was shorter and lighter than him, before turning to Alexander with a cheeky grin. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Archie.”

“The pleasure was mine, lad.” replied Alex, again forgetting to correct the name error. “We’ll see you in a bit, Duke.” He ended up saying to his son, who looked at him first with wide eyes of pleading and then in surprise at how his father had called him. But there was nothing to be done, for at that moment the muscular giant lad took him by the arm and carried him down the corridor, while his father walked away in the opposite direction, chatting amiably with the behemoth that was Professor Garret.

BIG entered his office and sat down at the desk, although he hadn’t asked Archibald to enter, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

“So, Archibald Dunhan, that name doesn’t sound unfamiliar to me.” Commented the professor.

“Well, it’s not exactly a common name these days.” Archibald replied, accepting the name as if he had always used it.

“No, it’s not… Archibald, Archibald Dunhan, Archie, Archie Dunhan! But of course! Wall Archie! You could have been a legend at Arsenal, material for the England team, if it weren’t for that nasty injury in that game against Manchester City; but from what I know, your career as a player agent isn’t going too badly.”

“I… I think you’re confusing me with someone.” Archibald timidly replied, still standing at the door. Just the idea of thinking of himself as a former footballer was hilarious. Although he was indeed a die-hard Arsenal fan and risked a few matches with his mates on weekends. No, not that…

“No, I’m not mistaken; you were a leak-proof goalkeeper, you were a wall indeed, Archie; don’t let something that wasn’t your fault bring you down.”

“That accident ruined me, mate…” Archie found himself responding automatically. What the hell was he talking about?

“I know, but managing guys like Haaland and De Bruyne is also a success story. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Believe me, no one has ever accused me of being too humble!” Why would he say something like that???

“Then we’ve got the same problem!” replied Garret, bursting into laughter, and Archie joined in, unable to contain himself, stopping with a startled look only when the other man spoke to him again.

“What are you doing standing there, Archie? Come in, come in; we’ve got Duke’s future to discuss.”

Hearing that name stirred something in Archie; there was something very wrong with all of this, but then he took a step into the room, and everything changed. In a blur of movement and colour, his muscles expanded, height increased impressively, and fat seemed to evaporate from his body. When he stopped smiling in front of the other man, any trace of humility or shame had left his body. He was one of the most successful sports agents in the country; there was no reason to worry about that sort of thing.

“BIG, you’ve got 5 minutes to convince me to bring my son to this school, mate.”

“Archie, you know me you wanker; I can do it in three.”

….

“Take a seat, chubby; I’m not going to give you a hard time.” Said the muscular black lad to Duncan, although he clearly was already doing that. The moment Duncan’s dad and the teacher left their line of sight, Farrel dropped the politeness, throwing aside all false pleasantries, revealing himself to be exactly the type of person Duncan believed and feared he would be. He didn’t show anything Duncan might find relevant about the school’s facilities, leading the lad through some of the many sports facilities on site. They had courts for all sorts of sports imaginable, gym equipment, swimming pools, running tracks, and even a complete weightlifting gym. After the exhausting tour of Jockland, they finally arrived at the spacious and luxuriously furnished room where they were.

“I’d rather stand, thanks.” Duncan said, approaching the window of the room, which overlooked the well-kept football pitch of the institution.

“You know best, but carrying all that weight can’t be good for your knees.” Farrel commented venomously, as he took off the top part of the school uniform with no ceremony and flopped down on the sofa in the room. “But that won’t last long; BIG will have you sweating off all that flab in no time.”

“I wish you’d stop making comments about my body.”

“When you’ve got the physique of a real man, I’ll stop, chubby. And trust me, you will; in no time, no one will recognise you, not even you.”

“I’m fine as I am; I don’t intend to change anything.”

“As if anyone here gives a toss about what you think, lad. I repeat, soon you’ll be one of the lads at Lionheart and won’t even remember the wimp you are now. And even if you did, you’d be ashamed of what you let this society do to you.”

“I won’t let myself change; you can do what you want with me, humiliate me, torture me; I won’t change.” Duncan replied, feeling an uncharacteristic rage and turning from the window, seeing for the first time Farrel’s bare chest, which made him blush deeply, while the other lad shot him an intrigued look.

“Seeing something you like, chubby? You a queer or something? Not that I have a problem with it; It’s an all boys school after all, and the lads have their needs. Besides I know what my body does to others." He said, flexing his powerful muscles as if he was at some kind of obscene show, which made Duncan look back at the window, only turning around when the other spoke again, hitting the target this time."No, no… it’s a different kind of desire, isn’t it? Ever thought about having a body like this? Ever wished for muscles like these?” He conclude, looking distracted for a moment, as if he were reliving an old memory.

“I don’t need that; I’ve got my mind, and it’s more powerful than any bulging muscle.”

“Loooser! I wish I could record this and show it to my new bro when he comes out of you; it’ll surely make him die of embarrassment.”

“I… what?”

“You know where we are, Duke? At the headquarters of one of the Lionheart clubs, my club; not just anyone gets in here, but I decided you’d be one of the lucky ones. I’m the captain of the rugby team and would love to have you with us, but the boss has other plans. Speaking of which, you know what’s even more curious? The club is located exactly one floor above Coach BIG’s office. An office that has a direct exit to the football pitch. That exit, I believe, must have been used quite recently, so while you’re at the window, tell me what you see.” Farrel asked, his eyes sparkling and his voice filled with an uncontrollable mix of eagerness and excitement.

Without really knowing why he was obeying the other lad, Duncan looked outside, initially seeing nothing of note, but then his gaze landed on the pitch, and what he saw shocked him. Professor Garrett, who at that moment should have been with Duncan’s father, was walking across the pitch, bare-chested and laughing animatedly with a blonde man who was just as monstrous and muscular as he was. But if Garret was there, where was Alexand… Archibald?

“I don’t get it? Where’s my dad?”

“With all that talk about intellect, I thought you’d be smarter, Duke.”

“My name isn’t…”

“Duke!” Duncan read the lips of the gigantic blond man more than he heard him speak as he waved vigorously, beckoning him to join him and Garret on the pitch. Why would a complete stranger act that way? Unless… unless he wasn’t a complete stranger.

“No… it’s impossible…”

“Finally, you got it, chubby, although I think this will be the last time I can call you that.”

“No… dad?” Duncan asked, although the man who continued to wave excitedly couldn’t hear him. “What did they do to you?”

“Oh, old BIG has a thing for The gentlemen’s sport; even though he’s never been a pro himself. I’d say we’d put you on my team, and that would be that. But for a former pro rugby player, he doesn’t value us much. He says nothing gets as much visibility as football, and our team is about to lose the captain to a contract, and we still don’t have a worthy replacement. Plus, the old rogue managed to create a connection with someone who can get him the best seats at the games.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You don’t need to understand, Duke; you just need to accept.”

“I can’t accept this… I won’t accept this…”

“Duke?”

“What!?! He screamed back, enraged in response.

“Come over here, mate.”

“I’m not your mate, mate!”

“Of course you are; you’re my little bro; me and Ash were looking forward to finally having our little brother with us! Farrel, Duke, and Ashton, best mates. FDA, like the American agency, and like them, we run the bloody show! F for a lot of food, D for drugs to grow and an A for, shit what is the A again? Let it be A for awesome because that's what we are, mate!"

“I…”

“Think about it, Duke; you want to make your dad proud.”

“Yes…” he replied, shivering at hearing that.

“Then get your arse off that window and come with me to meet him; for you, I’d even play a match of football just to see the old geezers eat dust.”

“Haha, I want to see you try to score on my dad, F! The bloke’s a wall; not that he can stop his son from scoring.”

“That’s what I want to see; let’s go, then.” Farrel insisted, and Duke finally took a step back and went to meet his fate. In an instant, the fat seemed to be sucked from his body as his muscles expanded into a strong and toned physique, far from the giant muscle mass of Farrel or his father after the forced retirement and years dedicated to bodybuilding. A slim and strong body, except for the long, powerful legs with thighs capable of exploding a watermelon if it were squeezed between them. His unkempt hair giving way to a well-groomed cut, the sad, chubby face transforming into a beautiful, almost angelic face, but still unable to completely hide the mischief within him, easily identified by the cheeky smile playing on his lips at that moment.

“Don’t know why you’re so excited, bro; with that size, dribbling you will be the easiest thing in the world.”

“Watch what you say, scrawny boy.”

“This is definition, something a ogre like you will never know what it is.”

“Come talk about agility when you compete with me in rugby.”

“And why would I stuff myself into a game with a bunch of lard arses?”

“Who are you calling fat, punk?”

“Not me, your body mass index.”

“You’re getting quite cheeky there, lad. I want to see you crack jokes on the pitch.” Farrel replied with false irritation.

“When I get past you, you won’t even notice, chubby!”

….

Aaryan Patel was absolutely fuming; he had no idea why his boss at the Independent Herald had sent him from London to that conservative hellhole that Daffodil Meadow had become. And to top it all off, he was heading straight to the epicentre of that rubbish, the King Richard Institute for Boys, aka Lionheart School. A place he had written a series of scathing articles about in recent months, which didn’t mean he wanted to walk into the lion’s den, especially when it was the lion himself who had sent the invitation. But his editor insisted it was too good an opportunity to pass up, and now here he was, walking purposefully along the edge of the grass on the school’s grand football pitch towards Director Johnson, who was at that moment in one of the few empty stands. Apparently, it was a tradition for the school and the surrounding villages to gather every evening to watch some sort of competition from the different teams, and today it was a football match. What didn’t make sense was the question Aaryan kept asking himself: why the hell did Henderson Johnson make him walk across the pitch where the students were parading around with their muscular bodies on display while the school staff prepared everything for the match?

As Aaryan made his way to his destination, he passed two muscular black blokes wearing the infamous light blue polo shirt of the sports team, one of whom was much bigger than the other. The one he wanted to take down the most. However, when the larger man glanced at Aaryan as he walked towards the nearest entrance to the stands, the lad who considered himself a brave man felt his knees go weak. Feeling angry with himself as he watched the two lugs burst into laughter, Aaryan quickened his pace and climbed the stands to meet Director Johnson.

“Mr. Patel, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person after reading the rather vehement words you used to describe me, my school, and my students.” The man said with a threatening smile. But Aaryan wasn’t going to let himself be intimidated; he was indeed brave, and although he was much leaner than the brute, he wasn’t a total wimp; he could handle whatever the other bloke had to throw at him. And any words spoken would receive an appropriate response from his sharp mind.

“Vehement is an appropriate but incomplete description of what I have to say about this place, Director Johnson. And that description could also be applied to the behaviour of the people here, although belligerent might be a more fitting term.”

“And you know a thing or two about belligerence, don’t you? Big guy like you? Bet you’ve had your fair share of scraps, haven’t you, Aaron?”

“The name’s Aaryan! And I prefer to fight with words.”

“Ha, I knew there was a fighter in you; I never miss.” The man commented as if Aaryan's response had been completely different, leaving the journalist confused for a moment. Quickly shaking off that momentary confusion, he turned back to the giant blonde.

“So, Director Johnson, what’s the purpose of summoning me here? And summon is the right word; my editor informed me that you pressured him quite insistently and intimidatingly, I should add.”

“Right, lad, I just wanted you to see for yourself what it’s really like here, what you’ve been so harsh about. You might not realise it, but what you write affects people’s lives, people I care about; my staff and my students.”

“Forgive me, Director Johnson, but the actions of those people you care about affect many others’ lives.”

“You paint us as monsters, Aaron, but do what I asked you: roam about, chat with my students and teachers; there’s one teacher in particular who’s quite eager to have a word with you.” The director said, smiling and nodding towards the pitch where Blake Garrett was watching closely as Zeke Hastings paced back and forth, correcting both teams’ players’ positions.

A chill ran down his spine at the thought of talking to that man. Forgetting to correct the misuse of his name, he responded to the director.

“Alright, I’ll do that, but I don’t think anything will change my mind. I’m sure the teachers are lost causes by now and the students are probably already conditioned to the behaviours taught here.”

“We’re not a cult, Aaron, but if you want a fresh opinion, why not have a chat with the centre-forward for the black team? The blonde lad in number 9. Duke has been at the school for less than a week; see what he has to say after the game.”

“I know how to identify a centre-forward, thanks! And I think I’ll do just that; cheers!” replied the journalist, who until a few minutes ago certainly couldn’t identify any positions.

After chatting with some students and teachers who repeated the same toxic spiel about masculine values, manliness, and the rightful place a man should occupy in society, Aaryan felt drained. Coming here had certainly been a bad idea. He thought about leaving and writing another scathing article about the evils of that place. However, he realised that the game had finally come to an end when he saw the blonde centre-forward walking to the edge of the pitch, opening a bottle of water and taking a long swig that practically emptied the bottle in one gulp. As Aaryan approached him, the lad poured the remaining water over his sweaty hair, then shook it off vigorously just as Aaryan reached him.

“Good afternoon, lad; my name’s Aaryan Patel, Director Johnson told me I could have a word with you.” He said, moving closer to the lad and using an authoritative figure as a reference to ensure the lad paid attention; he had dealt with many of those arrogant lads in the past couple of hours to give the kid a chance to mock him or simply ignore him.

“Eh?” The lad huffed, flexing his muscles and shaking the soaked t-shirt. This was pretty much the expected behaviour from any football player giving an interview after an hour and a half of strenuous exercise. What Aaryan, as any good fan of the game, should have remembered. So he repeated the information to the lad.

“My name’s Aaryan and you’re Duke, right? I want to ask you a few things about the school.”

“Sure, mate.” The lad replied, looking more awake after taking off his shirt and showing off his powerful physique, even though it was clear that not much was going on upstairs. This diminished Aaryan’s hopes of getting any productive conversation, as it was obvious the lad belonged there. Still, he decided to press on; when in Rome…

“So, what do you think of the school? Settling in well?”

“Aaron, mate, this place is brilliant! I begged for nearly two years to come here, but my dad thought I’d have better chances of getting signed if I kept training in a bigger city. It was only when Coach BIG took over the sports department that he was convinced.”

“Um… just out of curiosity, who’s your dad?”

“Haha, as if you don’t know who he is, Aaron, mate! I’m not some little kid to fall for your tricks.” The lad replied, giving a thumbs up.

“What are you on about?” Aary… Aaron asked, confused. But then something worse happened; the lad turned to the middle of the pitch where his teammates were milling about, shirtless, chatting and joking under the watchful eye of the coach, who was in turn under the direct supervision of the head of the sports department, the infamous BIG, who was precisely the person the lad was addressing.

“Oi, Coach BIG! Come meet my mate, Aaron.” And to Aaron’s horror, the man who instilled all his primal fears turned to him, serious for being interrupted, but soon a mischievous grin spread across his face.

Strutting towards the two with all the arrogance in the world, looking at Aaron with the same gaze a lion gives to a gazelle before it attacks, making Aaron’s knees tremble… but why? He should respect the bloke, of course… but no matter how big he was, Aaron could handle him… how? Certainly not with words… hey… what was he thinking here? What intrusive thoughts were those? However, he had no time to fight against those ideas so contrary to his essence because at that moment, the coach was standing before him, eclipsing everything else with his immense physical presence.

“Aaryan Patel, the man of the moment! You have no idea how much I wanted to meet you!”

“It’s Aaron… sir.” He added. The respect for the figure of coaches ingrained in him wouldn’t allow him to respond any other way. But why so much respect?

“When young Duke told me he knew you, I couldn’t resist the idea of bringing him here. But where exactly do you two know each other from?”

“Eh… what?” He had just met the lad, right? But then where did the memories of him teaching the kid fighting positions come from? Fighting? What fighting? In the midst of his confusion, it was Duke who answered.

“It’s my dad’s agency that looks after Aaron’s career, coach. In fact, he’s been following Aaron from the beginning; he’s spent more time at our house than at his own over the last few years.”

“Oh, of course. A cunning man like Archie wouldn’t let a talent like that slip through his fingers.” Agency, what agency? Big-name journalists needed agents, but a rookie like Aaron… mate, in his world, even rookies needed a decent agent; it was the difference between a million-dollar career and retirement in the gutter, and Wall Archie was the best; after all, he had experienced firsthand how cruel that world could be. Yeah, the world was a cruel place, and it was his duty to expose those ills… No, not that, what he needed to do was fight… yes, fight for improvements in society… mate, society was what it was and that was that… in this life, you either lose or win, and Aaron Blink Patel, rising star of the heavyweight MMA scene, was born to win. He earned the nickname for the short time he needed to take down opponents. Which was almost the same amount of time he dedicated to interviews with journalists. He didn’t need many words in his life, being known for keeping his opinion to himself, aware of what the media vultures could do to his career. The only time he expressed his opinions was when he was with his friends, when he let out all the intensity inside him, in conversations filled with cheeky banter and heated praises of masculinity in today’s world. And if there was someone who was the ultimate representation of masculinity, it was Aaron Fucking Blink Patel!

“No… no…”

“Aaron, mate, it’s all good?”

“Of course it is, Duke; it’s just the fighter inside him manifesting, but now it’s just a matter of a blink and it’ll all be sorted.” Coach BIG commented.

“Just a blink…” Aaron grumbled, and then… blink… and… his toned, lean torso expanded like a flower blooming, if flowers were made of huge, protruding muscles and their scent was an animalistic musk, with a touch of spices that didn’t go unnoticed even in that place full of sweaty young men… blink … and his legs exploded in size and power needed to crush opponents… blink… and the years dedicated to reading and research evaporated, replaced by training in jiu-jitsu, boxing, and Muay Thai… blink… and all the pent-up rage inside him flowed out in flowery words in sharp texts, concentrating in the massive paws that were his fists and feet… wink… and Aaron Blink Patel found himself smiling at the man and the lad before him, an image seen only by those the fighter deemed worthy. But he’d known Duke since he was younger than the kid, and after hearing the glowing praise he gave about his new coach, the man earned Aaron’s respect without needing to lift a finger.

“Sorry, what were you saying, sir?”

“You can call me Coach BIG; Aaron is what everyone calls me.”

“Yes, sir.” He replied, causing Duke to burst into laughter.

“You’re a lost cause, mate.”

“Actually, I think Aaron is a great example to follow; I wish my rowdy students had his level of respect.” Coach BIG commented, his voice cutting, making the lad’s smile fade instantly. “By the way, after I speak to the team, I’d love for you to have a word with those rascals, Aaron. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a motivational speech to give. Duke, keep him company while I’m at it.”

“Yes, coach, sir.”

“See? Just your presence has instilled some respect in this cheeky little sod.” The coach commented before returning to the pitch to address the teams.

“Could you not be such a teacher’s pet, mate?”

“I only got where I am because I respected my coaches and your dad; authority figures are there to be respected. Don’t you want to be captain of the team? Don’t you want to be a pro one day? You could already be playing for a real team if you had a bit more discipline since talent isn’t lacking. Take advantage of that man.” He said, pointing to the coach who was animatedly giving a speech. “BIG is a legend, a legend capable of making other legends; it was a scandal to find out a man like him had moved to the States, but the results he achieved with Dalton’s teams speak for themselves. And he brought in fucking Zeke Hastings to train you lot, and your dad to manage those of you who are truly capable of going pro. So yes, listen to what your coaches have to say; you may think it’s just theatre, but it’s the attitude that separates the men from the boys.” Aaron finished, flexing his powerful muscles to the point where the polo shirt he was wearing ripped under his arms.

“Wow, mate! That’s wicked! You’re a beast!” Duke said with such genuine admiration that Aaron couldn’t help but smile and repeat the feat, tearing his shirt even more before returning to a serious demeanor and looking at the younger lad.

“And you know how I became who I am today, little brother? By listening to all the shite my coaches had to say to me!” He said, pointing in the direction of Coach BIG, who was just finishing his speech, raising his voice so that everyone on the pitch and in the stands could hear him easily.

“… because this society wants to diminish you, weaken you. They want you to believe that being a man is wrong, that being what we were born to be is a shame. But they don’t know the power you carry with you, the influence you possess; many of you will be professional athletes, some already are. You’ll be seen around the world, admired, able to inspire, capable of making our brothers, hounded by our enemies, react, and more than that, you can make some of those enemies see the mistakes they’ve made and bring them back to the right path, and for those who insist on their mistakes, you’ll be able to hit them where it hurts most, where they’ve been hitting us for years, and I’m talking about their children; You will shape and save them because you have the power to correct what’s wrong in this generation, then in they do same with the next. The truth is men, and never forget it, you have power! And we’ll use it to secure a better, brighter future!

[house-in-the-backyard-trees]

mental breakdown in the tags incoming scroll past for your own well being

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Lando reminds Max how he said he'll let Lando marry Y/n once he wins his first race

yn_verstappen My boy got his first win ❤️❤️so proud of you my love

view all comments

landonorris I think I fulfill the criteria for you know what @/maxverstappen1 do you remember what you said?

↳maxverstappen1 I refuse to remember

landonorris cmon I'd do it anyway

maxverstappen1 It was a JOKE

landonorris well I'm very serious about this

username1 What is Lando talking about?

↳username2 I think under some previous post Max said he'll let Lando marry his sister if he wins because it seemed so unrealistic but now oh well 💀

carlossainz55 As a friend of the both of you I can't wait

↳yn_verstappen Wait for what exactly? 👀

landonorris you know what 👀

yn_verstappen Nahhhh I know it was just a joke

landonorris yeah yeah, a joke, totally

username3 I AM CONFUSED

username2 I think Y/n thinks it wasn't for real😭

username4 Y/n blessing our eyes with the video on third slide 😏

↳yn_verstappen As a fangirl myself, I know what a fangirl desires 😌

username5 But fr fr Y/n would be so lucky if Lando actually proposed now

↳username6 I don't think he is being serious, they're still young and all

username7 And why would he try to outshine his first win with a proposal??

username8 So is the wedding happening or not?!

↳username9 It MUST happen now

josverstappen7 Impressive 👏

↳yn_verstappen Ik dacht dat ik je geblokkeerd had lol

username3 "I THOUGHT I BLOCKED YOU" LMAO

↳username10 Hey Jos, is Max on his way to the gas station yet?

username11 He's still walking from the circuit back to the hotel lmao

landonorris It's a win-win situation

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yn_verstappen Max still can't believe you did it lmao

↳landonorris he was the one who gave me the idea!

maxverstappen1 IT WAS A JOKE

landonorris doesn't change the fact that it gave me the idea

username1 Max gonna hate himself for the rest of his life lol he trapped himself with Lando as brother in law

↳username2 Poor Maxie 🤣

yn_verstappen Poor Maxie indeed lmao

carlossainz55 Did Y/n take these photos?

↳landonorris of course she did

↳yn_verstappen Yessir I did

georgerussell63 Why's the ring so small? 🤣

↳yn_verstappen Well I love it regardless

georgerussell63 He's just won a race, should try a bit harder, not sure if that impresses Max

maxverstappen1 Remind me, where's your ring for Carmen? 🤔

username3 Max casually shutting George up lmao

↳yn_verstappen He loves his brother in law after all🥹

username4 I love how Max pretends to not like Lando, but when George try to say something he's defending

↳username5 That's real sibling energy

carlossainz55 Congrats to the both of you! 💪

↳landonorris during one weekend I did two things no one expected me to do

username6 No but that's a valid point Max got, cuz how long have Y/n and Lando been together? A YEAR AND HE ALREADY PROPOSED

↳username7 meanwhile Carmen still waiting for her ring after years

username8 Max ain't getting rid of Lando after this

↳yn_verstappen I think he doesn't mind it 😅

username9 Jos getting another son to train

↳username10 Jos pls turn Lando into a world champion

username9 Possibly without the abuse part?

yn_verstappen Not possible I think lol

josverstappen7 Take good care of her

↳yn_verstappen Better than you did 😐

↳username11 Jos tryna make a comeback into Y/n's life lmao

username12 Suddenly he even follows Lando?

username11 Thankfully Lando doesn't follow him back

maxverstappen1 To clear up the accusations - I will not hate myself for giving him the idea, I enjoy having Lando in the family

↳yn_verstappen They know, Maxie 😭 they're just joking around

username13 Imagine Max, Lando and Y/n together in the same room with Jos 💀

↳username2 I meannn Y/n does a pretty good job avoiding her father, I don't think she wants Lando to meet him

username1 Man's extremely rich, are we surprised?

username2 Trying to impress Max lmao first the win, now this

username3 Well it's understandable that they want privacy on such day

username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF JOS WILL BE THERE

↳username2 Knowing Y/n she won't invite him

username4 As 👏 she 👏 should 👏

username5 Little Lando Norris is the last person from the grid that I expected to get married now

↳username1 Or ever lol

username6 I hope after they are married and have kids Jos will stay away from them

↳username7 Yeah I don't think Y/n would want Jos to be involved in the kids' life after how abusive he was towards Max

username8 Abusive 💀 if it wasn't for Jos Max wouldn't be a world champion

username7 What about Lewis who didn't have an abusive parent?

username9 I'm really hoping to see Y/n keep her last name so their kids can have the last name of a world champion

↳username2 Lando still has a chance 😭 if not this season, then he still has a lot of time

↳username10 Maybe "no kids before Lando's first championship" is their second rule lmao

yn_norstappen Better than I've ever dreamed of 💓 thank you everyone for being there for us and celebrating our love together 💓 and thank you to my amazing husband for making me his wife

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username1 norstappen in the username 😭 I love her she's iconic

landonorris thank you to my beautiful wife for existing

↳username2 I think we know who he can thank for this 💀

maxverstappen1 It was better than I expected

↳landonorris supportive as always❤️

↳yn_norstappen Chill Maxie we all know you're happy for us

georgerussell63 It was such a beautiful wedding

↳yn_norstappen You should take notes, maybe you'll need it one day

carlossainz55 I cried and I'm proud of it

↳yn_norstappen I had no idea you'd be so touched!

carlossainz55 I guess it was just very heartwarming to see Lando get married, especially when you're the one he's getting married to

yn_norstappen Thank you 🥹🫶 I also cried a lot and I'm crying again reading all these kind comments

↳username3 Lando also cried! It was funny to see that after he said he's just not the kinda guy to cry during touching moments like this

username4 Yeahhhh I was surprised he didn't cry after his first win like 🥹aren't u happy pookie⁉️

yn_norstappen If you like to see Lando crying, wait for a video of our wedding day!!

↳landonorris that was kinda cute!

charles_leclerc Your first win, your first wife, what's next?😂

↳yn_norstappen FIRST and LAST wife

landonorris obviously baby

username3 New gossip alert, he said "obviously baby" without a comma ("obviously, baby") so what if he's actually replying to Charles' question saying next is their first baby? 😭

oscarpiastri So happy to have been with you on such important day

↳landonorris cheesy osc

↳yn_norstappen Thank you Oscar

mclaren Cheers to the newlyweds 🥂 (and to many more wins of Lando's)

↳oscarpiastri But tbh such a shame there was no orange theme

landonorris the baby shower will be black and orange

oscarpiastri You're already planning I see

landonorris it's a bit obvious innit

yn_norstappen LANDO

yn_norstappen We're NOT having a baby YET

landonorris after the first world champion title✍️got it baby

josverstappen7 Shame I couldn't be there with you, but happy regardless

↳yn_norstappen You COULDN'T? I didn't invite you

↳username2 nahhh Jos is tryna make it seem like he couldn't make it but we all know he just wasn't invited lmao

[a-hazbin-reader]

I've seen you mention that alastor would make little deer bleats in a few fics, do you have anything for the reader hearing him bleat for the first time, like reader said something flirty that caught him off guard or while petting his ears, alastor would definitely be the time to be like "what ever are you talking about dear, you're hearing things" and try to change the subject out of embarrassment

- 🐞

I LOVE IT

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, Explicit s e x towards the end

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor makes deer noises, usually when he's pissed off or exerting some of his power

It's a very emotional and unintentional thing, something he normally can't help or hide

Usually, you can hear buck grunts, warning calls, though elk bugle sounds dominate most of the other noises he makes

You didn't even know he was capable of making softer sounds until you found out by accident

The two of you were alone, sharing a romantic moment with you in his lap and his hands caressing your body

You had pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath when his twitching ears suddenly got your attention

Not that Alastor minded, keeping his mouth busy with your neck and shoulder instead

As if you could ever pass up the opportunity to touch those fluffy ears...

You couldn't help but scratch and rub his furry ears, leaning into kiss one while giving it a playful nip

Only to be surprised by the soft bleat that escapes from Alastor and the way his entire body goes stiff out of embarrassment

"Alastor, did you just-"

"Would you look at the time?! I must go, darling! Things to do, people to see!"

Leaves you on the floor, on your back, and in shock

You try to bring it up to him later but that doesn't work-

"Alastor, about that sound you made..."

"Hm? Oh! I merely had to clear my throat! Not to worry, darling! It won't happen again."

"But I want it to."

👀

It becomes a game between you two, well...more of a game for you, Alastor has never been so nervous in his fucking life

You're on a mission to hear that adorable noise again by any means possible

He's eating breakfast?? You're leaning over him and kissing along his neck while pouring him tea

Which doesn't work, he just tilts his head and gives you a contented growl before continuing with his meal

He's taking a small break? Eyes closed and relaxed? You try going for his ears again, massaging them

That doesn't work either, instead he gives you a warm smile and pulls you down to lay with him

You try flirting with him, maybe you can say something sultry and catch him so off guard he makes that sound again?

Instead, you just get yourself into trouble because instead of something small and subtle you just drop a fucking bomb instead

You corner him and pin him to the wall, mustering up every bit of courage and control to push forward

"Do you believe dreams can come true? Because I dream of you cumming inside me."

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT PICK UP LINE

Angel

Oh that makes sense

It doesn't work, instead Alastor gets a predatory look on his face and he's pulling you closer to him

"Luckily for you, my dear~ I happen to have a soft spot for dreamers such as yourself~"

Oh fuck

It actually does end up working in your favor, just not the way you thought it would

You don't even remember how you end up naked on your back, legs spread to accommodate Alastor between them

Both of you are close, having been at it for hours at this point, desperate ragged sounds coming from the two of you

Your nails are digging into his back, no doubt leaving nasty marks that he'll later tease you for

He has one clawed hand on your hip while the other grips and makes deep grooves into the headboard

You're nearly out of it, mind fizzy and hot with the feeling of being so full of Alastor's cock that you almost miss your chance

You know exactly how to get that sound out of him

Suddenly, your legs lock around him and you're tugging him down to you to give him a desperate steamy kiss

He's caught off guard and startled but eagerly reciprocates your actions, chasing a building orgasm between you both

He pulls away to growl and pant, head rolling back as his thrusts become sharp and erratic

You tug him back to you by his hair and suddenly give him a watery smile, barely able to hold on because you're so close

"A-Alastor...haa...I love you...~"

And that's what does it, his eyes widen in surprise as he suddenly releases inside you, letting out a pathetic sounding bleat

He's so mortified afterwards, burying his face in your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair. Both of you shuddering and trying to catch your breaths

"You...you are an evil evil person..."

You can't help but laugh and kiss his head, scratching around his antlers affectionately

"I love you too, Alastor~ Every part of you~"

This one got away from me...it's probably not what you asked for but... I hope you like it!!

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

Click here for Series Masterlist.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18 (MINORS DNI) smut, virgin reader!, unrequited love, heavy angst, reader gets hurt, kinda friends with benefits, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, language

Word Count: 7216

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'Waste' by Kxllswxtch.

Dean's eyes narrowed as he treated your wounded hand; you smiled a little to yourself as he talked about how you sometimes behaved recklessly. If only he knew how much you cherished the moments when he protected you during a hunt.

You had been with him and Sam for a year now, and it was difficult to resist falling in love with him. You weren't sure when you fell in love with him, but you sensed it from the moment he smiled at you, or maybe in a random moment. Every time you glanced into his green eyes, you felt a sense of admiration. You had absolutely no complaints. 

He complained as he was working to treat your wound, “You must know, I will consider kicking you out of the team if you keep acting like that.”

It began to rain in your house's weak light. Your heart was filled with fright as he took care of your wound in your house, where you were alone, and it seemed so calm; you were afraid of losing that precious, fragile time with Dean, not of ghosts. You weren't afraid of ghosts. 

You asked naively, as if you had no idea what he was talking about, “Like what?” When he grabbed your hand too tightly unintentionally, and that sudden moment hurt you a bit, you attempted to draw it in toward yourself with a pained gasp. 

With a look of regret on his face, you looked at him with understanding. 

“When I tell you to get behind me, you must do what I say, or when I tell you to stop, you must stop.”

“Remember the previous case in point,” you sighed. “If I did what you told me, we'd both be dead.” You looked up to see how he was feeling. 

“It was only a single exception,” Dean immediately defended himself, rolling his eyes at you. 

“However, if I had listened to you, I would have been killed. You too,” you mutely remarked. You weren't attempting to put the blame on him. You were aware that he was guarding Sam and you constantly. You dropped your eyes to your eyes as he looked at you, feeling instantly overwhelmed and overpowered by his piercing stare. “I promise that when I go hunting, I'm not being careless. I truly listen to you, but you must have some degree of faith in me. Since I joined you and Sam months ago, I'm convinced he has more faith in me.”

You wanted Dean to think highly of you, someone whom he could always trust, just as you trusted him with your life. You wanted him to trust you, your strength, and your feelings. Even if you were quite successful, you felt that he still seemed to be unsure about you.

This time, instead of cracking one of his jokes to lighten the mood, he seemed to be deep in focus. When he appeared so confused and like he was in pain on the inside, you wondered what exactly he was thinking. Though you didn't think you could stop him from ruminating at that moment, you still wanted to help him if he was in pain, calm him down if he was feeling anxious, and comfort him if he was feeling uneasy. 

The sense of worthlessness was an emotion you wanted to stay away from. 

When he noticed that you weren't as happy as you had been minutes before, he stated in a dry voice, “I don't want you to get killed or hurt because of me. I do trust you, but you have to stop acting reckless and try to save me by endangering yourself.”

“I wasn't putting myself at risk. You're exaggerating,” you said as you continued to examine his hands while he continued to take care of your wounded hand. 

“You're very stubborn, aren't you?” In an attempt to soften the thick air, Dean smiled back weakly. 

You chuckled and tried to catch his gaze by raising your head as you drew nearer and moved on to where you were sitting. “But Sam thinks I'm the easiest one to get along with and easiest to persuade,” you said. 

Dean winked at you suspiciously and said, “Hey, I guess you were right about something.”

“About what?” 

“He's dumb when it comes to reading people, huh?” 

You muttered, “Asshole,” and gave him a little leg kick. It made him laugh, which made you joyful. 

Dean let go of your hand, gave you a long, odd smile, and checked his watch after making sure you were okay and being well taken care of. You could feel the joy leave your body when you realized he wasn't going to stay or anything. You had no idea how to get him to stay with you, at least for a day, at your home. Still, he was always on the move. It's fortunate that he didn't hear how quickly your heart was beating, how much you wanted his touch, and everything else.

You said in a hushed tone, as if you didn't give a damn whether he said ‘yes,’ but you cared like crazy. “You can spend the night in here if you wish.”

“I think I have other plans for tonight,” he remarked, flashing you his adorable grin and a wink. “We move so much throughout the day. The town must have missed me.”

You chuckled slightly and said, "By whom exactly, Mr. Loverman?” You noticed that the rain was falling more quickly through the glass. 

Dean gave you a haughty look and stated, “By ladies, of course,” which made you jealous, but you didn't want to show it to him and ruin your friendship.

Playing with the fabric of your sweatpants, you said, “Boys. They come and go.” You attempted to ignore the vivid images of Dean with other women that were playing out in your head. It was unavoidable, but you didn't want to get jealous and mess up everything. “New ones appear all the time. Don't be worried about the women who missed you.” 

He smiled and replied, “You're a smartass, aren't you?” You felt encouraged to continue since he didn't appear to be offended or anything.

“And you're overconfident in yourself. Have you yet to be rejected by someone? Not even once?” You said it inquisitively. 

“Just once,” Dean remarked humorously. It eluded you whether he was being serious or joking. At times, it was difficult to understand him.

You tried to chuckle as you remarked, “Must be fun.”  You sounded like you were going to choke though.

Dean spoke for a little while before attempting to get up and leave your home, but the electricity unexpectedly cut off, leaving you gasping in surprise. You backed away from him with a shy grin, not because you were afraid, just because you realized you had touched his knee. 

You said, “Ah, it doesn't look like the rain is going to stop soon,” and to your relief, he sat back on the seat. As it was pouring heavily, you expressed your gratitude to God and Michael for their generosity and compassion, which you felt had come once in a lifetime.

At least once, you prayed that night's rain would never cease so Dean wouldn't go. 

"Yeah," he said in a dry voice. It was your hope that he wouldn't feel stuck with you and let down. Dean was aware that although you weren't terrified of ghosts, you were fearful of being alone yourself in the dark. “Do you want me to light a candle?”

You timidly replied, “I guess I don't have any.”

“All right.”

“Are you still planning to leave or spend the night?” You tried not to seem enthusiastic as you asked, but with anticipation. You hoped that his ability to read your face in the dark would be poor.

“I suppose it's best if I stay with you. You're a lovely young girl who, in the end, is more terrified of the dark than ghosts. As a gentleman,” he murmured, moving to a more comfortable position on the coach. “It's my responsibility to protect and repay you tonight, don't I?”

You laughed as though he had made a joke, but in reality, you were only finding it difficult to hide your happiness at his answer that he would stay. The angels seemed to fill your heart with such incredible bliss. If it would force him to spend his time with you in that manner, you may put yourself at ongoing risk. You wished he understood how much you valued each and every word he said.

“How about you, though?” Dean asked out of the blue. Although his face was concealing himself in the darkness, you could tell by the tone of his words that he was perplexed. 

You asked, perplexed, not understanding what he was talking about, “What about me?”

“I haven't seen you with...someone in a long time since you joined us,” he said. You may argue that he spoke slowly in order to carefully select his words so as not to offend you or cause you distress. “Actually, I've never seen you with someone nor heard you talking about anyone.” 

You attempted to give him a confident smile, but all you managed to do was give him off an odd look. “Uhm,” you stammered out while attempting to think of anything to say without looking foolish. “Those hunts are challenging and exhausting.” You attempted to explain to him, “I'm not interested in seeing someone right now, and I can't find time for myself.” You were hoping he wouldn't dig too much.

You weren’t the best when it came to lying. 

As if he wasn't okay with your explanation, he grumbled, “We've been staying here for a month, and we are not even that busy.”

You wouldn't tell Dean that you were an inexperienced one in your mid-20s, as you knew he was very skilled with women. You just could not possibly make yourself look so foolish in front of him. You were unsure what he would think about you. Definitely, it was best to remain silent.

You said, “I'm just not interested and feel like I have no time for anyone,” trying not to sound like lying. Although it wasn't a total lie, how in the world could you admit that you were truly interested in someone, him, and that's the reason you weren't interested in anybody else?

You wanted he could read the words on your lips and your voice so you wouldn't have been trying so hard to explain things to him while hiding yourself away from him for so long.

Love was something that both wanted to be hidden and to be revealed. It was complicated and bizarre.

Dean finally responded, “You're right, actually,” after giving you a long stare. “You should avoid things that might distract the focus of your attention. Men might easily split your soft and lovely heart in half.”

You asked, irritated, “Why do you say that?” You always believed that since you avoided people so well, nobody would ever consider hurting you or anything like that.

As he moved a little closer to you, Dean smirked and remarked, “Like you say,” which made you tense. You couldn't see him well, but his smile was joyful. Before continuing, he arched an eyebrow and nibbled his bottom lip. “I'm ladies' man. I read women really well, and you're easy to see through.”

You said to him, “You really are a ladies' man. But I'd say you are illiterate.” 

Dean gave you a small chuckle and made the decision not to push you too far or make you feel more shy. And anyhow, he wouldn't allow you to talk about males, not right now. You did not require guidance since you did well on your own. “Hey, I see that you’re a little sharp today. After taking care of your wounded hand, I made the decision to spend the night with you and look how you treat me. You're being ungrateful.”

He made a false furious look at you, and you couldn't stop laughing. “You do realize, though, that I have once again saved your ass. I'm beginning to feel like you must repay me for acting as your guard. Like an angel.” You gave him a little smile and added, “That means something, right?”

Dean said, “It does,” with the same lighthearted tone as you, his eyes examining your face up close in the dark as your smile slowly faded from the corners of your lips.

You gasped in surprise and fright when an unexpected lightning strike struck with such force it seemed like the sky had been split in half. Dean laughed, seeing as how you really jumped on the coach. 

“I can't believe you're not afraid of ghosts, witches and all, but just some raindrops,” he stated in astonishment. Your pulse beat like crazy when you felt his breath close to you, but Dean probably assumed it was because you were frightened.

Both of your arms and legs touched, but you tried not to react. “I'm not afraid of rainy weather or something,” you replied. “It's normal to be jumpy when an unexpected noise like lightning appears.”

In an attempt to annoy you, Dean said in a persuasive voice, “It was just simple lightning. Many things might come as unexpected. You can't always get scared.”

You said, “Like what things?” as if in plea. 

You stared at his wonderfully shaped lips in the darkness as he spoke in a whisper. Your lips felt so dry that you wanted to lick them. Although you hoped he didn't notice, at that point you weren't really worried. Yes, you were a virgin with no prior experience, and you were very determined to keep your body and mind closed off to others, but things seemed different when you met Dean. It wasn't that you were old-fashioned-minded; you just wanted to be with someone you cared for, someone you loved. 

You were aware that the desire to be near him was more than simply passion; you wanted to touch his face, jaw, hair, and every other part of him. Your soul yearned to be near him desperately. 

Dean failed to notice when another lightning strike made you jump. It wasn't the finest moment for him to think clearly. There was always something enjoyable to do. Given that you've known each other for a while and that it must have been a while since you allowed someone to touch you, it seemed appropriate to blow off steam with each other. It was, after all, a difficult and somewhat tiresome a few hours earlier. 

Just when you thought you were going to pass out, Dean suddenly captured your lips and began to give you an urgent, intense kiss. Yes, you were somewhat inexperienced, but at least you've had a kiss. Quite some time ago, indeed. You made an effort to calm down, returned his kisses with your best effort, let your racing thoughts disappear into the darkness, and gave yourself over to that single perfect moment. 

You sucked Dean's lower lip, and your fingers stroked his jaw as his skillful tongue dominated yours. He must have been encouraged by your response because he moaned a bit as he shoved you back on the coach and pushed you to lie under him. He kept giving you firm kisses throughout.

His muscular neck was stroked by your hands as you drew him in between your knees. You shuddered as he put his body between your legs. It was the realization that your body was missing something that you were unable to identify. Your entire body exuded passion and desire. It hurt to need Dean so much. You had no idea how you had been able to contain yourself for so long.

You were longing to touch him all over.

Dean moved his lips to your throat, allowing you to take a deep breath. You were unable to contain a giggle as he violently sucked on your neck and throat. You realized you were sensitive there.

“Don't keep those lovely noises from me. Are we not the only ones alone in here?” While he boldly touched your skin beneath your shirt, Dean whispered. Though you urged yourself to relax down a little, you felt like your heart would burst at any minute.

It was possible that he might back off if you revealed to him that you were a virgin. It was certain that he would. You attempted to pretend that you had experience too and that it had simply been a long time because he was just interested in hook-ups, and that's what you were going to go through. It hurt to admit it, but maybe things would change.

You never would have imagined that you would feel that way about Dean, and you refused to miss the opportunity to be with him by telling him you weren't deflowered just yet. All you had to do was appear bold and avoid raising suspicion with your awkwardness.

Your cheeks flushed red, but at least the room was completely dark, keeping your almost scared gaze and timid finger movements hidden from him.

Your hands gently slipped inside his t-shirt, touching every muscle in so as to savor it. Your breath quivered with anticipation as your palm brushed every part of him. You could never let someone else touch you in the same manner that Dean did. 

Dean's eyes were on you, and as he nibbled your lower lip, you urged him to remove his shirt. You could see he was smiling a little bit when he pulled it off. That you were prepared to go one step beyond thrilled him. 

You must have pushed your injured hand a little bit hard when you gasped in little pain after both of your hands reached his back and you enjoyed the feeling of his muscles beneath your palms. 

“Hey, be careful and take your time there. Remember that all you are is a wounded gazelle under my mercy. You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?” As he worked on your clothing, Dean said in amusement.

You moaned in surprise as one of his hands slipped into your shirt and gave you a strong grip on your nipple. “Maybe I am,” you murmured, almost laughing, but the noise you made turned into a moan. 

You made a little movement beneath him. It seemed as though your body needed something from you or him, but you were completely unaware of what was going on. All you knew was that you were desperate for Dean to do something. 

You gasped somewhat alarmed as your nipple hardened between his skilled fingertips. As he slid on top of you and played with your tits, you got excited more and more, assuming that he wanted this as much as you did. You thought for a moment that it was actually romantic considering it was all dark and raining like hell outside, like the whole heaven wanted you to be with him.

You nailed Dean's back with boldness, crushed your lips to his once more, kissing him with desire while trying your hardest not to show Dean how shy you were in fact. It relieved you to hear him groan a bit in your mouth. You moaned quietly into his lips as soon as his thumb started playing with your nipples once again. 

Dean moved quickly to help you remove your shirt by pulling back. You were shivering a little, but even though he was making your skin hot, you would have blamed the room's cool temperature if he had asked.

His lips made their way to your nipples, where he expertly sucked them with his tongue. Your back arched as his lips nibbled your breasts delicately, and you forgot about your envious thoughts about how many other women he had treated like this. This time, you were unable to stop your loud moan from filling the room. 

Dean gave both of your nipples little licks and a firm kiss after sucking your tits for many minutes, making them slippery with his spit, and making you cry out beneath his body. You didn't know how pleasurable it was to be with someone doing such things.You were aware that you were attempting to create friction by placing your leg on his hip. 

He whispered to your lips, “I bet you're fucking dripping there,” as his hands gently moved into your sweatpants. He was trying to see every expression on your face in the dark. His voice was rough as he asked, “Are you wet enough to take me?”

You managed to say something like “Hmm,” which is sufficient. “I think I am.” 

“We must be sure,” Dean remarked in a lighthearted manner. “Let's see.” 

Dean slid his fingers slowly inside your sweatpants. He was grinning a little over you when he heard your heartbeat. As you waited for what was going to happen, you gripped onto his shoulder.

His fingers touched your underwear, causing you to gasp in surprise as he gave you a soft touch. Every second, you felt like you were becoming wetter. You believed you might orgasm at any minute since your clit was so sensitive to him. You wanted more because of how ethereal and gentle his hands were. You needed to raise your hip to him and squeeze his bisceps in order to receive what your body craved. 

Satisfied, Dean moved your underwear aside as he watched you twitch under him in desperation. He rubbed your clit some more, then used two fingers to feel how wet you were. 

Dean kept pushing back on his groan. He said in surprise, “Fuck, I knew you'd be wet, but you are literally leaking there.” You had no idea whether or not it satisfied him. All you wanted to do was the right thing. Regardless of what it was. 

You lied when you said, “It's been very, very long,” since you had no idea what to say. The way he responded truly made you feel a little awkward. 

You felt better after sharing quick kisses on the lips with him. “Good,” was Dean's sharp reply. “How many times can I get you to come to me tonight? You deserve appropriate treatment in light of the effort you have been doing these last few months, you know. I must reward you.”

Encouraged, you had a blossoming sensation of bliss and anticipation in your chest. You wished that light would never return and that you and him would always be in the dark together in that very moment.

He touched you during hunts and other times to make jokes, but you didn't used to be physical like that. Watching him being intimate with other women except you was agonizing. But now you knew you could touch him whatever you pleased right now. Just like you imagined when you thought about him, you touched yourself. 

Dean palmed your moisture in his hand, causing you to both pant into each other's mouths. You felt a little uneasy as one of his fingers began to gently press into your entrance since you weren't sure if it would hurt that much or not. You just didn't tell him anything since you didn't want to spoil things. All you did was wait expectantly.

He said, “You're a tight one, aren't you?” as he kept his finger inside of you. You were glad Dean wasn't being swift with you. You withdrew your lips from biting and captured his, pushing him into doing what he needed or desired as well. 

Dean expected that you would be tight, but he didn't anticipate that level of tightness. He was taken aback by how tightly your walls clamped around his finger, and he couldn't help getting thrilled at the thought of feeling your cock around him. He was shivering with excitement coursing through his veins. 

You bit your lip hard in pain as he pressed his thick finger a little further. You didn't make any sound that might have stopped him. Dean would stop in an instant, you knew. 

He must have realized how uncomfortable you were, though, because he began to touch your clit more in an effort to prepare you to become accustomed to him and make you wet enough to take him. 

As he worked on your clit, he remarked, somewhat smirking, “It seems we need to get you ready for me; otherwise, it might be painful a bit for you.”

“I'm prepared. Really,” you said, lifting your hips in the course of action. “You can go on.”

Dean groaned a bit and pressed his finger inside again. He used extreme caution. You whimpered and attempted to make yourself quiet by stealing kisses from him to silence your whimpers. 

Dean withdrew his finger and then thrust it back, not allowing you to say something. His abrupt movement caused your lips to parted in pleasure and enthusiasm. Even though there was still some discomfort, it was soon overshadowed by pleasure and desire as he began to properly finger you. You grabbed onto his shoulders because your pussy hurt from yearning. You tried to put your groaning mouth into Dean's, but he wouldn't let you kiss him. 

You could not help but let a moan out in ecstasy as your back arched when he gently pushed another finger and began to fuck you with them. You made a valiant effort, but it was impossible to avoid coming so quickly and effortlessly.

Dean moaned, “Give it to me,” realizing that you were making it difficult to come. “Come to me now. You're almost there; I know that.”

As soon as your climax hit, Dean grabbed your lips and planted a passionate kiss on it as he touched your chin with one hand, allowing you to ride your pleasure in between moans. 

Your hips rose to get more pleasure as though you could, your back arched, and your walls clenched hard as you rode your climax. Dean's experienced tongue expertly dominated yours as he murmured into your lips. He withdrew to give you a bit of time, and while he did so, he studied your face in the darkness, as if he wanted to remember each and every shadow that passed across your skin in the flickering light. 

He was at a loss as to why he had never touched you before. For a while, at least, it felt pleasant enough to become sidetracked. 

Your cheeks became scarlet as your climax wore on, but you were itching to go one step more. For that, you were ready. For a long while, you had been ready to give Dean everything. 

If he asked, there was nothing you wouldn't give away. 

You planted a hesitant kiss on him to gauge his reaction before your shaky hands made contact with his legs and through his trousers. You could see more of his face as your eyes grew used to the gloom. Your hands became braver as you watched him smile, and boldness invaded your body and thoughts. The sexual experience shouldn't be difficult. Particularly with him.

Shortly after your hand briefly ran over his hardened cock through his trousers, your fingers somewhat slid into his boxer. You were taking your time to gauge his reaction. You were hoping he wouldn't say no, draw a line, or worse, end it up.

You yearned to offer him the same pleasure that he gave you.

In a weak but hopeful voice, you asked, “Can I touch you?”

With a charming chuckle, Dean added, “You can do whatever you like.” His voice carried expectation, which made you thrilled even more.

You reached out and stroked his erect cock, feeling that it was safe to go a step further and meet his gaze with yours. His sly smile vanished from his mouth as he stifled a moan and shifted on top of you, his hand still resting on your thighs and legs. 

He said, “It seems like you're cold,” as soon as you began to touch him. 

You retracted your icy hand in an ashamed attempt to mumble a “sorry,” but Dean reacted swiftly and put your hand back to his aching cock. 

He responded, “We'll get you warm,” and helped you put your hand around his cock to feel closer to him and to give you the confidence to continue. “Your hand feels so good around me.”

Driven by his words, you felt each vein on his cock and then circled your fingers around it to memorize him. You weren't familiar with his length or anything because you weren't an expert on male anatomy, but he was thick, so it was difficult to properly wrap your hands around him. You reasoned that it would be best to take some action to get him to come. 

You moved your hands and began to rub him, trying not to feel shy as you stared into his eyes. Your chest was rising with excitement, and your breathing was heavy. His gasping for air made you pleased and aroused; all you had to do was give him the same pleasure. 

Dean told you, “You're doing so good,” in between strokes. 

You inquired quietly, “Do you like it?”

“I really like it,” Dean said as he planted a kiss on your neck. He paused at your sweatpants and began to carefully lower them with his hands. 

Your hands were moving more quickly on him, and your heart was racing. He felt larger in your grip. He was nearly there. But Dean gently stopped you, pushing your hands aside and planting a kiss on your lips. You sensed that the big move was about to happen.

He saw you were becoming stiff as he assisted you in taking down your sweatpants and underwear, so he questioned you suspiciously, “Are you nervous?”

You lied once more while waiting for him to remove his clothing. “No, of course, not,” you said. When he removed his boxer, you could have practically felt the chills beneath you. You had everything you had on the floor. “It's just cold in here.”

“Trust me, you'll feel warm very soon,” said Dean confidently. His tone had hints of dedication. 

You shifted slightly beneath him to find a more comfortable position. Luckily, there was plenty of room in the coach. You put your hands on Dean's back, feeling his hardness on your stomach, and you waited for him to do something already. Though plainly aroused and moist, you were still a little anxious. You

didn't want to come seem as inexperienced, though. You wished for this to keep going. 

“I do trust you.” That was true at least. 

Dean believed you.

While you waited, he took his cock and gave himself two or three strokes. Witnessing him stroking himself got you even more aroused.

Dean positioned himself on your entrance, making you tense up a little, then brushed his hard cock on your clit after making sure you were both ready. But you were determined to see it through to the end. It was almost like a chance to win him over in a romantic way. Maybe.

He pressed the tip of his cock, and you laid your hands on his back and nailed him like crazy. He was able to slide inside you very easily because of how wet you were, yet it was still uncomfortable and painful.

You bit your lip to suppress your agonizing groans and not to make him stop, so as not to seem like a wounded animal or anything.

Dean groaned over you, “Fuck, you are really tight,” pausing just before pulling away. It was difficult for him to fit inside completely.

You whispered to him, embarrassed, “Sorry,” attempting to calm down and let him in.

“Just relax,” Dean said, taking another position. You nodded to him quickly. 

He again pushed his cock inside of you. This time, your pussy was around him tightly, drawing him within. He let out a sigh of delight at that. Your eyes welled up with tears as he withdrew and used a forceful motion to push himself forward. It was as though he was slicing you in two. Thankfully, he was unaware that a few tears had trickled down from your eyes onto the coach. However, you were unable to cease whimpering in pain. 

Dean sensed when you were ready and gave himself a single, full thrust. You nailed his belly and back and moaned in agony this time because of his harsh moment. 

You were no longer a virgin while you were lying beneath him. Even though the man you loved was unaware that you had given him something unique, you knew that no matter what happened, you would never regret it. 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked. He could not believe how tight you were. Your walls were drawing him in, constricting around him all the while. If he was less experienced, he would have come inside you as soon as he entered your pussy. 

“I am,” you urged him to continue, your voice quivering. “Just give me a moment, please.”

Dean gave you a kiss to help you relax. He saw that you were a bit anxious and that you needed to wet yourself a little more before you could handle him. He was sure sloppy kisses would be helpful.

Dean stepped back after a while and questioned, “Are you ready now?” You were clenching around him, and his patience was getting thin.

You nodded to him, and Dean retreated and pushed inside again without waiting another moment. The way he fucked you was rough and painful for you. You didn't complain though, even if it was hard to get used to his size and pace in such a short amount of time. He moved slowly at first, but as you got wetter beneath him, he accelerated his pace.

Dean moaned, “You're taking me so well,” while fucking you in a rough way. His delighted tone and praises made your heart sing. “I like how tight you are.”

You only said, "For you." His compliments caused the anguish to become joy, and this time you didn't suppress your moans. You had no idea that you would enjoy this so much. 

“Oh yeah?” he said, teasing as he whispered into your neck, picking up speed. “You sound so sweet. Do you like the way I fuck you? I should have fucked your lovely tight cunt sooner.”

Your face turned red the moment he spoke dirty words into your ear. They were about how much he liked fucking you everything else. The whole room was filled with sloppy and obscene sounds that made you blush with shyness. You were becoming even more excited at the sound of his heavy balls hitting your pussy. You began to tighten up around him. Although you were trying to hold back to extend the moment, you were getting close. 

“This won't take long,” he groaned, getting his fingers tense around your flesh. It was difficult for Dean to control himself. You were tightening around him, whimpering beneath him. “Come to me. Come now!”

When Dean moved around a little inside of you, he started to fuck you harder and find your sensitive spot. With a groan, “Take it. Come on,” he said, fucking you senseless. 

You reached your climax and clenched him with his name on your lips as your screams became louder and you were unable to contain yourself any longer. Dean proceeded to fuck you throughout your climax by lifting your hips and drawing his body to you in order to receive more pleasure. You believed you might come again right there since your pussy was throbbing so much. 

After Dean made sure you rode your orgasm, he let out a deep grumble, pulled out his cock in between your startled gasps, and began to stroke himself. You became excited by his stroking himself on top of you, even though you had just rode your climax. 

When Dean began to empty himself on your thigh and stomach, you jumped. You waited for him to empty himself as you saw him spill his hot white ropes all over your body. You glared in shock as you watched him riding his pleasure.

You were no longer a virgin there, under him. It had happened. You were aware that he was only a friend and that the situation was really a bit awkward. You waited for remorse to surface, thinking that nothing would change with him, but it didn't. You didn't feel any sign of regret. Giving something unique to a loved one, even if it held no significance for them, was never wrong. After all, love was generous, and it always needed to consume the untouched places of your body and spirit.

With a low grunt, Dean moved your bodies on the coach and, to your astonishment, embraced you. It was obvious that he was satisfied. Dean grabbed the blanket that was hanging from the coach's corner and laid it over your bodies. You trembled as the heat took the place of the cold. You simply drew nearer to him to enjoy the moment because you had no idea what to do. You pondered whether this would occur once again. 

Jokingly, you said, “What now?” Still, a lot of questions raced through your head.

Dean sighed and said, “It's pretty late and seems like the rain won't stop any soon, so let's sleep.” You remained silent regarding what had transpired. 

Saying, “Okay,” you leaned into his embrace and made an effort to keep as close to him as you could. The thrill you had just had began to gradually fade away, leaving you alone yourself with despair and sadness. 

Dean remarked, “By the way,” before he closed his eyes. “Let's not talk about this to Sam or someone else, alright?” Though gentle and soothing, his words were sharp and cut you through. 

You said, “Sure,” immediately away. “Of course not.” 

As though nothing had occurred and you weren't naked in each other's arms, you told each other good night. Although it was awkward, you made the choice. When you made the decision to go all the way with him, you knew that was what would happen. 

You got out of bed before Dean did, picked up your clothes from the floor, and headed to the bathroom for a long shower. Whatever is done is done. It was irreversible; you convinced yourself. Nothing was a regret for you. You were relieved that it only happened with Dean. It was the appropriate decision for you to keep the details from him. He wasn't made to feel oppressed by you or anything. This would ruin the friendship and also ruin you. 

Dean also woke up, and you two didn't chat much after that. You felt a little uncomfortable, but as soon as Dean returned to his lighthearted demeanor, you felt at ease and acted naturally. When you saw he didn't put distance between you, you felt relaxed. 

That's how three weeks went by. Everything was well. 

Following a disastrous hunt that left Sam with an arm injury, you enter their home and assist Sam in taking care of his arm. The hunt this time was challenging, and you were distracted. 

Sam was giving you and Dean one of his puppy looks. You felt terrible. 

With remorse, you murmured, “I'm sorry, Sam.” He injured his harm in order to protect you, yet he didn't blame you for anything. You have probably never met someone as kind as he was. 

He said, “It's okay,” and made an agonizing moan as you carefully cleansed his arm. 

Dean snapped, “It's not,” in a harsh voice. He was across the room, observing Sam and you. He had his fists crossed over his chest, obviously frustrated with the current state of things. After all, Sam was his brother. “There, you should have been careful. Sam could have hurt badly because of you.”

“I know,” you said, panicked. “You are right.”

“I don't think so,” Dean stated sharply, glancing at Sam's injured arm. “You've been distracted for a while. I attempted to ignore it and hide the mistakes you made, but today they could end up killing Sam.”

Your pulse raced, and you felt guilty as you proceeded to handle Sam's arm carefully. As he persisted in blaming you, you found it difficult to contain your emotions. 

“It won't happen again,” you stated in a tremulous tone while keeping your gaze on Sam's arm. 

“It's alright. Dean, please stop being so grumpy,” Sam eventually pleaded in an insistent voice.

“You shut up,” Dean said, gesturing to Sam as if he were a little child. In fact, you were aware that he remained a child in Dean's eyes.

As you began to wrap a white cloth around Sam's injured arm, he groaned and pressed his groan back. “You're being annoying right now,” he said.

“I'm going to be more annoying if you two keep acting like this, you know.”

You said, “I'm really sorry,” and you gave Dean and Sam sincere looks. “It really won't happen again.”

Dean nodded at you quickly and sighed. However, it was clear that he was frustrated with you. “He's all I have.”

“I know.”

You and Sam didn't say anything further about what had transpired. Thankfully, despite his curious and suspicious stare, he remained silent. To get better, you had to gather yourself. But it was challenging. You questioned whether being near Dean worked as a deterrent for him to stay away from you. 

A week went by, and Dean came home with a blonde woman by his side as you and Sam were spending the night in the house eating pies and watching a movie.

Jealousy took over you, but you smiled and greeted them instead of pulling a grouchy face and making a scene. Dean's hookups and lovers became routine to you. The things that had happened weeks ago weren't important, even if it was hard to admit. Not a word about it was spoken. 

Last several days, Dean had been annoyed, but when he kissed the blonde, he was a completely different person. Happier, more relaxed. Though your heart was pounding from pain and suffering, your gaze remained riveted on the TV. It was pathetic how much you wanted to be her. It was a hard swallow. 

When she, Dean, or Sam told you something, you smiled and engaged in conversation so as not to arouse suspicion. They eventually made their way to Dean's room, and this is when your eyes started to well up with tears. You were unable to stop it. You uttered a little sound as your heart gripped with so much agony and suffering. You had no idea why. It might all have been different, but it wasn't.

Sam saw your eyes become wetter in the light, and he gave you a dubious look, but none of you said anything. 

You longed to travel back in time as soon as you heard it began to rain outside. This time, you weren't fond of the rain or how it felt. 

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

A/N: I hope you like it. Let me know what you think, please.  ^^

[teaboot]

While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.

Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.

If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.

This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.

As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:

"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."

"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."

"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"I must have been wrong."

This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:

"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"

"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."

"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"

Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.

You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.

The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:

Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.

A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.

Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.

Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.

The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:

Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.

Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.

Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.

Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.

Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)

Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)

I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.

I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".

('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)

[lyrefromthesea]

Could I ask for the hashira reaction waking up from anesthesia after needing surgery from a mission? I had seen a video of a guy still dizzy and goofy from the anesthesia after surgery... Like, the guy did not recognize his wife and said, when she touch him, that his wife would get mad seeing a pretty girl touching his chest, he was shocked and flirty after she said SHE was his wife.

Male Hashira x reader - anasthesia

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

when the nurse told you to bring your husband home as soon as possible, you were skeptical. what if he was hurt? did they hope he would be at home when he collapsed so the hospital could say it wasn't their fault?

you scoffed, not leaving until the nurse told you what was going on. you didn't expect to hear that your husband had been tormenting everyone entering his assigned room.

"some sunny day!~" his voice was ringing through the hallway, forcing you to quickly enter and close the door. it would be embarrassing to disturb the other patients, especially when the reason was a singing husband.

"Tengen, tone it down please!" you scolded him, but the man only looked at you with lazy eyes. hoping that he still followed your words, you looked at him with a glimmer of relaxation in your eyes.

only to hear him start again.

"we'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when."

you couldn't decide whether the feeling of embarrassment or the charm he possessed in this weird situation took over your mind, but it certainly got your face heating up.

Obanai:

"what.. are you sure..?" the way his heterochromic eyes stared at you in confusion and adoration made you chuckle. he was completely out of it after waking up.

"yes, i'm sure. you're my boyfriend, remember?" he could only stare in utter disbelief, his eyes wandering over your body and then back to your face.

after a minute of silence, he let his head plop against the pillow, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

"and you're sure this is not a dream..?" he assured himself, opening his eyes to give you a testing glance. when you chuckled and nodded in response, he looked at the ceiling.

"this is the best day of my life.." he mumbled, his eyes falling shut. you laughed into the silence, hearing the man quietly snore.

he was awake a moment later, looking even more confused than before.

"[name].. are you laughing at me..?"

you spend the next five minutes explaining the situation to him. and he fell asleep right after.

Rengoku:

now how did this happen?

you couldn't move closer to your husband without worrying that he drops dead. he looked tired, not in the state to realize what was happening around him, nor could he answer.

yet he still managed to realize your exact location and showed a nonverbal response to it. everytime you came closer his heartbeat would pick up.

it basically skyrocketed when you touched his arm, the machine next to his bed sending out high sounds to signal raising heartbeat.

when you went to find a doctor, telling him exactly what happened, you were met with a laughing face.

"don't worry about it, your husband must be quite excited to see you."

you were dumbfounded by the doctors words. of course the thought of Rengoku growing flustered was cute, but not like this! you couldn't step closer without risking his heartbeat increase tenfold.

the whole story made him feel embarrassed whenever he heard it again.

Sanemi:

"have you ever thought of getting.. babies?" you spit out your drink, looking at him with shock, confusion and embarrassment.

did he really just say that?

"Sanemi, you can't be serious. I'm not able to-" you were quickly interrupted by a hand on yours. he had slid his scarred fingers over, gently placing them on your hands.

"i know, i know.."

thinking he had let go of the topic, you slowly avert your gaze. sitting next to his be had been proven quite difficult. who thought a gentle Sanemi was almost more exhausting than a normal Sanemi? just almost.

"what about adopting little rascals?" he checked, as if not birthing the children yourself made it any better. there were obvious reasons why you wouldn't get a child.

"what is it with you today?"

"..'m sorry, but ya would look so good carrying a small one around." the thought made your face warm up, closing your book and placing it on the nightstand.

"you should try getting some sleep now." you told him, watching the man groan, but close his eyes. it didn't take him long to fall asleep, softly snoring beside you.

that was just the medicine speaking out of him, he will have forgotten everything once he's awake again. right?

Giyuu:

"so pretty.." Giyuu said, hand still attached to your arm. when you entered the room earlier, he had immediately grabbed it and not let go since.

"love.." he mumbled, a curious hum left your lips. he was behaving different than before, but you wanted to make sure he wouldn't do anything dangerous.

besides, you found his more open side to be quite cute. he was a good lover, but often found himself having problems with wording his feelings. and after he woke up, all of it slipped out, leaving his lips like a river.

"you're so pretty, so smart.." he uttered, taking in a deep breath, "so breathtaking."

your cheeks were starting to heat up, not used to the many compliments you were receiving. "you think so?"

"absolutely, you consume my every thought.."

who knew Giyuu could be such a charmer? you would certainly tease him about it once he was back to normal.

Gyomei:

"Gyomei, I'm coming in.."

your voice was soft, slowly opening the door to his room and stepping inside. he didn't react, not even when you closed the door again, making your way to his bed.

you have never seen the gentle giant quite like this. sure, he was always a kind soul, but there was something more peaceful about him. the turn of his head was slow, acknowledging your presence with a small nod.

"are you feeling okay, i heard they needed to use more than usual.." you worried, he was bigger and taller than most, of course the treatment would be different for him. placing your hand on his cheeky you gently rubbed your thumb against his skin, watching the man close his eyes and lean into your touch.

he looked tired, exhaustion written over his features. with a small hum, you pulled back. "you should rest some more, the doctors said that you need a lot of sleep."

his hand moved to cradle your fingers into his palm, letting himself relax into his bed again. you understood, he wanted you to stay by his side, even while sleeping.

letting your hands stay in his hold, you made yourself comfortable on the chair next to him. this would be a long night, but it would all be worth it.

[angelltheninth]

An Archon's Fated One

Pairing: Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, failed arranged marriage, running away, love confession, loss of virginity, kissing, mating bite, protectiveness, creampie, tail shenanigans, Rex Lapis!Zhongli

Word count: 1.5k

Ao3

A/N: Come get your dragonfucking smut!

You knew from the start that the arranged marriage wouldn't work out. Your so called husband was an abusive, entitled asshole, besides your heart already belonged to someone else. It has for a very long time. He was the only one you loved, the man you ran to for safety and comfort, Rex Lapis, Morax, or as you knew him, Zhongli.

The door to his home opened as soon as you approached, he senses you, moreover he sensed your distress. "Ah, I didn't mean to frighten you. When I felt you approach I... your... your wrists... your neck... what?" His eyes widened in horror as he took you in. You must have looked pretty pathetic to him, crying and cowering by his side as he ushered you inside, placing his hooded coat over you, unmindful of his own half-nakedness.

He didn't push you for answers, he ordered for a bath to be ready for you, and any change of clothes you wished. When you walked beside him you could feel his thick tail caressing your lower back and your legs. No hands. Not until you told him it was okay to do so.

Would he think you even weaker if he knew? You were human so you already paled in comparison to a god. You knew that even if he shared your feelings your relationship would never last. Zhongli opened the door for you to show you into the bedroom you normally stayed at when you spent the nights at his place. He never crossed the line of sleeping with you, he never even kissed you, the most you got out of him were late night cuddles and breakfast.

No wonder your husband was jealous. You spent more time with here then with him. Doesn't change the fact that you never wanted to marry him in the first place. Or what he did to you.

"Wait." You called out, hands touching Zhongli's tail, "Please don't go. I'm... scared of being alone tonight."

Zhongli turned to face you and let his hands hover over your shoulders, still waiting for your signal. After you gave him a nod you felt his warmth, his arms pull you into a hug, against his chest, felt exactly where his arm markings stopped, and when you hugged him back felt where his dragon trail began as your hands rested on the small of his back.

The bed was just as soft as always, like what you imagined sleeping on a cloud might feel like. The only sturdiness was Zhongli himself. "He did this, am I correct?" Your tremble of fear was confirmation enough. Zhongli snarled, his eyes flashing bring yellow for a moment before he took a deep breath of your scent to calm down. "I should have sensed it. I should have been there. I am so sorry darling."

You snuggled deeper into his arms, taking in his comforting words and petname, "I told him I wanted a divorce, that... there was someone else." His arms slackened slightly, but you kept going, "I told him I loved an Archon and he laughed at first. Then I told him... that it was you. He... accused me of cheating on him."

His silence invited you to keep talking, as did his tail, now coiling around you.

"Because I was here so often he thought we were sleeping together. Didn't believe me when I said we were only friends. He got angry, really angry." Your body shook remembering his hands around your neck, the names he called you, the insults.

"So you ran here. To me." Zhongli's voice sounded lower then usual. It sent a very different kind of chill down your body, one that finished between your legs. It was shameful. How something so simple had an effect on you. It wasn't anything new for you, when you were in here you always had your hand between your legs at least once a night, not daring to call his name out.

"Because I knew you'd keep me safe Zhongli. I trust you."

"You love me." He announced, shifting his body until he was on top of you, looking down at you, his face still stoic but his hands conveying his love as they cupped your face. "If you so wish, if you would allow me, I could make you my woman. My mate."

Your heart wanted it, your cunt did too, pulsing and empty, "I don't need you to pity me. I know I'm just a human. I have nothing to offer you."

"That is not true. For years now you've been coming here, keeping me company, talking to me, keeping me from going insane. Also," He bent down and nosed your neck, "don't think I don't know what you've been doing in here. This is my domain, I hear and see everything and everyone."

It was probably you who spread your legs for him, made it easy for his hips to push between them, for him to press his rock hard bulge against your core. There was so much heat between you two, but not enough friction. He could fix that, you could see he ached to fix that if only you said the words.

"Zhongli, please make me yours." Every other time you uttered those words it was in the thorns of passion and without him there to do so. Now he was here, on top of you, pealing off your clothes layer by layer until you lay naked beneath him. His pants followed, revealing that hard cock that's been the subject of your dreams for so many nights.

"Has he..." Zhongli trailed off, his body shaking as he aligned himself up with your entrance, gathered some wetness at the tip and waited.

You shook your head, "He wanted me to submit on my own, but how could I when I only wanted you." You reached back, undoing the tie in his hair with one hand and scratching at the base of his strong horn with the other, feeling the scales there. And with your heels you felt the beginning of his tail as you pulled him closer, "I want you to be the only one for me from now on."

"And I shall be." Zhongli handled you with gentleness, but also possessiveness, his hands running to your hips, his eyes following the bounce of your breasts when he entered you, the gulp you made that tapered off into a moan. It was very much to his liking. "My bite, I will hurt. However if you're to be my mate, my bride, it's necessary."

The pain of it scared you a little, but the pleasure you currently felt, his big, thick, throbbing cock rolling in and out of you with every movement of his hips was enough to distract you. You leaned up to kiss him first, "I do." You whispered against his lips, which made him tilt his head, "It's how humans seal a wedding."

"Ah. Then... I do." Zhongli's lips felt much hotter than your own, every part of him felt hotter. You wondered how his cum would feel. Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. His cock responded by twitching.

You leaned your head backwards, exposing your neck to him. His claws dug into the sheets and bedding beside your hips, clawing and tearing at them, he was trying to hold back from finishing. "I wanted you for so long. So long, my darling. The amount of seed I wasted when I should have been planting it inside your womb instead... it angers me."

Sharp teeth ticked your skin, feeling you gulp before they settled between your neck and your shoulder, "Please. I want to be yours Zhongli. In every sense of the word."

That firm tail now wrapped around your leg like a snake, pulling it to the side so that he could have even more room. You were right, the bite hurt, but the pain was pale when compared to the pleasure that flowed both in and out of you moments later. You were hot all over, hot as your body arched against his, hot on the inside as you would be impregnated by his seed tonight, the sheer amount spilling from you, making your thighs sticky.

Despite giving it your best shot you couldn't leave marks on his back, but you knew he felt that you tried, a pleasant rumble emanating from his lips as they pulled away from your neck. Zhongli rolled you both to the side, his tail trading being coiled around your leg to being coiled around your hips.

One of his hand pressed down against your stomach, his voice low, "I love you." It was almost too quiet to be a whisper. "I will keep you safe, I promise you. Nothing and no one will ever bring you harm again."

If you had enough strength you would have cried again at that very moment. There will be time for tears, both happy and sad in the future. For now you wanted to rest, to sleep your first night with him soundly. With him, Rex Lapis, Morax, Zhongli, your new husband.

[blackbirdie1234]

Hey!! I love your fic's so much!

Can I request a Jacob x Fem!reader where they are friends but reader has a crush on Jacob. When he shifts he leaves and does what he did to Bella like ignoring her and Billy won't answer the door.

Mutual pinning but neither knows. He imprints on reader.

Thank you so much keep up the great writing :)

Also, I was wondering if you are going to be doing the vampires as well?

Hi!, Thank you so much for the request! I appreciate the kind words <3

I will be doing fanfics for the vampires as well! As of right now I only have the wolves, but I am planning on making a master list for the vamps and Bella. If you want to make a request for them I can definitely do that! I am planning on making a fic for Jasper soon!

A/N: Not proofread! I aged Jacob up a bit, you both are seventeen here. I didn't know exactly how to end this but I think I might do a spin-off series off of this fic so if you are interested in that let me know. Also, sorry for the late posting I am currently sick and going through it lmao. Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: Jacob being an ass, cursing, angst, Y/N with a backbone.

Wolf’s Out Of The Bag

Jacob Black x Fem!reader

You were staring blankly down at your phone. Ten phone calls, ten phone calls sent to voicemail. Ten desperate, pleading voicemails. No callback, no text, nothing received. You snapped your phone closed and threw it down on the bed.

It had been two weeks since Jacob stormed off from your house after getting into a small disagreement, at least it started off that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"It's nothing you need to worry about, Jacob," You grumbled with a slight roll of your eyes. Hoping he would drop the subject.

He was giving you an irritated look. You lightly pushed him with your shoulder giving him a small smile.

"I didn't think you'd care that much, it was one date and it's never happening again," you noted with a light-hearted laugh to ease the tension.

He turned to face you, irritation turning to anger. You could actually feel the heat radiating off of his body next to yours.

"Wow you must be really dumb, I mean how could you even think about going on a date with that pig. He's not good enough for you, but then again if you were desperate enough to give him a chance maybe I'm wrong" He barked getting more bitter with each word.

You look at him in shock.

"Why would you say that to me" You said not believing what you were hearing. "It's really none of your business who I go out with, you aren't my bodyguard, you don't have to 'protect' me. When did you get the right to decide who is 'good enough' for me? Huh? You're being a dick and I don't know why but it better change right now." You say sternly. He has never acted like this before and this sudden behavior change is not sitting well with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacob left shortly after that. He had gotten so angry he was shaking, you can't even remember the words that were thrown after that. Now, he wasn't answering the phone. Billy said he came down with mono, you didn't know how much you believed it but decided to trust that Billy wouldn't lie to you.

Jacob was your best friend, you loved him a lot. You had never had such an intense fight, you never thought he would react the way he did. You only went on the stupid date to get Jacob out of your head, you thought that maybe you would get over Jacob if you found someone else to pay attention to. You were wrong, no one made you feel the way that Jacob did. Jacob made you feel at home, you couldn't explain why but it was like he was the person you were meant to be with. He was the one who understood you fully and would never judge you for anything you said or did. Until now......

You were deeply hurt by what Jacob said to you, and if he thought that you would get over it he was surely mistaken. He had never said anything more hurtful to you in your entire friendship. You had thought about just letting it go, letting life run its course even if it meant Jacob being out of your life, but you couldn't just sit and let him speak to you that way. You wanted answers. Sitting in your room waiting for him to call and explain was becoming too stressful. You sat there for hours overthinking and no matter what you were doing you were replaying the moment in your mind.

You must be going crazy. At least that's what you were trying to convince yourself after seeing Jacob cliff-jumping with Sam Uley and his gang. You had decided that you would go to La Push, and relax your body and mind on one of the only partly cloudy days in Forks. The skies were pretty clear but there was a storm coming soon, so you decided to do it now. Never in your life did you think you would see what you were seeing now. Are you fucking serious? was all you could think as you drove your car straight to Billy Black's house. You wanted to make sure it was really Jacob, so you went to the man who had told you how 'serious' his condition was in the first place.

As you pulled into the driveway the clouds began covering the sky in a dark grey mass. You hopped out of the car and began walking to the front door, Billy had opened the door as soon as you stepped onto the wood. His face had a mix of concern and confusion as he noticed your agitated expression and the way your chest was slightly heaving from anger.

"Where is he" you say with a grumble.

"He's not here, he went out," He says seriously but looking down a bit not wanting to make eye contact. Billy didn't like lying to you and to your face it was even worse.

Just as you were about to speak you looked to the side and saw that far away down the hill, Jacob stood playfully nudging another man as a few more came out of the woods.

"Don't Y/N" Billy said in warning.

You started stomping down the hill, ignoring Billy's yells. Billy calling your name caught the attention of Jacob, as his face shifted from laughing to completely still. You continued to walk towards Jacob as the rain started, it quickly went from a drizzle to full pouring as you finally reached him.

To say you were fuming would be an understatement.

"What the actual fuck Jacob!" you say basically screaming at the shirtless man, who was now staring directly into your eyes with what looked like pure amazement but you ignored it the best you could, whatever love for him you felt in that moment may have been strong but you were too angry to care so you continued.

"So we have one fight and you ignore me for two weeks?! I called you ten times, ten times Jacob. You couldn't bother picking up the phone at least once, you could've told me you didn't want to be friends but no! You had your daddy lie to me" You say with an angry laugh.

"I thought you were sick Jacob! Too sick to pick up the damn phone and text me! Come to find out you were just having too much fun cliff jumping with the guys we used to make fun of! You know what you can have them, If you want to throw away seventeen years of friendship then be my guest." You say finally taking a breath.

The weight off of your chest feels amazing, but as you finish Jacob falls to his knees. The boys behind him look between you two with pure shock on their faces before they start laughing and smiling. You look up at them shocked and confused thinking they were making fun of you. They start walking away but not before patting Jake on the back. Sam leans down and whispers something to him as he sits there still on his knees staring at you.

"Do you even care about a word I just said to you? You know what never mind if you think this is a joke I might as well leave," You say turning around and starting to walk away.

Jacob suddenly found his voice as he quickly got to his feet and stumbled trying to reach you.

"WAIT! Wait, wait, Y/N please hold on!" He spoke hurriedly. Grasping for your hand and pulling you around. Hand now resting on your waist.

"I am so, so sorry. Please let me explain everything, I promise I won't lie to you anymore. I can explain everything now, just come inside and dry off." He said pleadingly, trying his best to get you to listen to him.

You thought for a moment, you didn't trust him at all but the way he was speaking you knew he was telling the truth to some extent. It was hard for him to lie to you, you know how Jacob works, you know the subtle mannerisms he has when he's not telling the truth. Considering all of this you finally speak.

"Fine, but if things don't add up or I find out you are still lying, I am gone," You say sternly, pulling his hands away from you and walking up the hill.

When you get to the house, Jacob gives you warm tea and a blanket which you take from him without a word. He comes over and sits across from you. He almost reaches for your hand but stops himself.

"The day that I left your house, something changed, I changed...." He claimed, looking at your reaction with a hint of fear but continued "This is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me on this..... I am a werewolf"

You stared at him for a moment before throwing the blanket off and standing up, Jacob followed suit immediately. You threw him a glare before starting to walk out.

"No, No, Y/N wait!" he shouted after you, reaching out and grabbing your hand. "I am telling the truth let me show you" He spoke as he continued outside your hand still in his.

" I swear Jacob if this is a pra....."

You went dead silent as he began taking his boots, and then his shorts off. Now standing in just his underwear. He gave you a curt nod and then started bending and shaking profusely. You could barely blink before your best friend stood in front of you only he wasn't human anymore, he was a massive wolf.

You jumped back a bit as the wolf started coming towards you, noticing your fear he slowly laid down on the ground and gave out a small whine to signal he would not hurt you. You were in complete shock, how was this possible? Everything you ever heard about the stories of the Quileute tribe growing up was true, and your best friend was living proof. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but they were silenced by the wolf standing up and trotting to the back of the house. Jacob then emerged in different clothes than before.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you Y/N" Jacob expressed, grabbing your hands hesitantly until you leaned into the touch slightly.

"Why couldn't you tell me, you know I would never judge you, nor would I ever tell anyone " You pressed before giving him a confused stare "Wait why are you telling me now?"

He looked at you a gave you a crooked smile.

"It's one of the rules that came with the gig" He laughs a bit before pulling you a bit closer. "The reason I can tell you now is because you are my soulmate," He says beaming down at you.

You stare up at him with a bewildered expression.

"I'm your what?" you say breathing out.

"You are my imprint, Y/N. It's a wolf's soulmate, it is the reason for their existence, you feel like it isn't gravity holding you to the ground anymore, it's them. You can be anything the imprint wants you to be, a friend, a protector, a lover, all that matters is that the two are connected. Like vines on trees overlapping each other both on the same path, interlocked." He pauses, putting his hand on your face and caressing your cheek gently.

"I know this might be overwhelming and a lot to handle. I really want you to know how deeply sorry I am for everything that I said. I'm not going to sit here and blame it all on the wolf because it wasn't, I was jealous. I was jealous that you went on that date with someone that wasn't me and I didn't mean a word that I said about you. I'm going to be fully honest with you from now on, starting with the fact that I have been in love with you since the second grade. I know that trusting me will take time, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to earn it back. I understand that I have hurt you, so it might take a very long time but I will always be there for you. Everything is up to you, I understand if you want to reject the connection. The connection can be anything you want it to be, but I really truly do not want to lose you and the past two weeks without you have been hell on earth for me. I'm just really sorry Y/N." He pleads letting go of your hands and allowing you to process.

"I... I love you too Jacob. I have for a while now. I'm not going to forgive you easily but I am glad you understand how much you have hurt me. I am willing to give this a shot, mainly because I can feel the connection and would be an idiot if I said that I didn't." You laugh a bit as he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face.

"But if you ever say or do that to me again I will put you in a dog house and leave you there," You say with an evil smile laughing at the way his face drops before he joins in.

You two get out of the rain and drive separately to Emily's house where you meet the pack and they explain in much more detail what being a wolf really entails. You and Emily become quick friends, and as the days go on you slowly fall into a routine that is pure chaos but you wouldn't have it any other way. You and Jacob work on your relationship, slowly building back trust and falling deeper and deeper into love with each other. You have fully accepted your place in a world filled with wolves and life seems to be going great, that is until they tell you exactly why they turn into the big ferocious beasts....... there are vampires in Forks.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James "helps" you organize your old belongings to move them to the cellar.

Prompt: friends to lovers ~ "don't bite your lip, bite mine."

@moonlightspencie for you, my lovely!

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

James promised to help you organize and move all your childhood belongings into your cellar. Only, you should have known he wouldn't be much help at all.

You're sitting in the middle of your bedroom, the carpet covered in various nick-knacks and memories as James lays on his stomach on your bed and flips through some old muggle teenage magazine. 

"Who's John Lennon and why is this muggle magazine obsessed with him?"

You blow some hair away from your eyes. "A singer. He was in a band." You throw a pair of old sneakers in the discard pile and groan. "Jamie, you're being no help!"

James throws the magazine onto your bed and scrunches his nose as he rests his chin on his hands. "He's not even cute, y'know, muggle birds have shit taste."

"Never said John Lennon was cute, James," you say, glaring at him, "Now, can you come help look through that box for me?" you point to the box near your hip that's labeled postcards/letters.

James jumps down from the bed and sits crisscross next to you, his legs bouncing uncontrollably. He's unable to keep still for even a minute sometimes. You know this and so you just let him do his thing.

"Why do you keep all these?" he asks absentmindedly as he rummages inside the box, making sure everything inside corresponds to the label, occasionally discarding trash, trinkets, and even a pair of thankfully clean socks.

"Because they're to and from people I care about," you whisper, folding an old sweaters to donate. "They're memories."

James hums, clearly reading something and you turn your head, seeing him fully reading one of your letters. You snatch it from him and glare at him again. "You're being a pain," you say, your tone lacking in malice. 

"You never sent that one," he points to the letter and looks down at it, your breath leaving you when you see the name written on the front of the folded paper you hadn't even put in an envelope. 

James F. Potter.

 The letter is addressed to him.

A sense of dread creeps in on you and you have an awful feeling in your stomach that means you remember exactly which letter it is. You throw it in the box again, shrugging as your voice trembles, "Must not have been important."

James's gaze stays on you and he tilts his head in question. "Is it still true? You're in love with me."

Your chest tightens and you freeze, letting his words sink in. He'd read it. "How fast can you read?" you joke nervously, avoiding looking at him. This wasn't supposed to happen. 

James laughs. He laughs and you feel like sobbing so you do the next best thing which is hold in your tears as you sink your teeth into your lip, hard enough to hurt and distract you. 

"Woah," James's voice interrupts your self-loathing as he sits up on his knees and holds your chin. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from your teeth. "Hey, darling, don't do that," he whispers sternly and uses his other hand to push some hair away from your forehead and then he tucks some of the strands behind your ear.

"Can you look at me?"

You feel so embarrassed that he'd read your confession. A confession you'd written almost a year ago and that you'd never sent in fear of ruining the best friendship you've ever had.

You squeeze your eyes shut. "Hey," James mumbles and his hand rests against your cheek, his thumb still close to your lips. "Did you mean it? Do you still mean it?"

What point is there lying now?

You nod and your eyes open as you try and chew on your lip, a nervous habit you've always had and James stops you again with his thumb on your lip again and he frowns. 

"Don't you bite your lip, if anything bite mine," he says as if it's the most normal thing in the world. He looks completely serious too and your heart leaps.

James's signature smirk curls his lips and he grips your chin, pulling you in. "Like this," he says, his breath warm on your lips, and then he's kissing you.  

It's hesitant and unfamiliar for few seconds until you relax and your arms find his neck, pulling yourself in even closer as you deepen the kiss.

You feel like you're in a cloud and all you can feel is James's arms wrapping themselves around your waist. You smile into his mouth and tilt your head, your teeth sinking into his lip like he'd wanted.

From the passion, your bodies accidentally slip and as you fall over James, his elbow accidentally hits the box and sends all the contents spilling on the floor. 

"Oops," he pipes up, his voice breathless as he looks up at you, your hands beside his head as you look down at him. His hands remain on your hips and his lip is a little crimson and swollen from your bite.

His grin only widens.

"See, much better than when you bite yours," he chuckles.

You echo his laughter and then lean down, pressing another kiss to his lips.   

[luveline]

oooh! just had an idea!!! bombshell reader x spencer where he comes over to her apartment one day on the weekend to suprise her with breakfast/flowers bc they just started dating. however, bombshell is in sweats/no makeup/messy hair when she answers but when she sees its spencer, she FLIPS out/slams the door bc she doesnt want him to see her in that state. spencer, however, is confused ofc because he genuinely doesnt notice her outfit/lack of makeup and thinks she is gorgeous no matter what.

hope this is ok ♡ fem, 1.1k

The song starts slow and ends slower. You could picture Spencer listening to it, his head on your shoulder or yours on his, wired earphones shared between you. 

You grab a pencil to jot a quick post-it note so you'll remember, one knee on your desk chair. You don't want to sit down with the shower running in case you get distracted by your new photo frame.

You and Spencer took a photo to commemorate finally getting together. Or rather, Hotch did, standing behind the camera with an impossible mixture of fondness and disapproval. You look like a true couple with matching graphic t-shirts and beaming smiles, Spencer's arm over your shoulders and yours behind his back. You can't see it without staring; you use all your strength to ignore the photo, pulling your post-it from its pad and tacking the yellow square to your vanity. Tell Spencer about love song from Ocean Boulavard. 

The door to your apartment rings with a knock. If you weren't distracted in your losing don't-think-about-Spencer battle, you'd recognise the timid pattern of it. 

You've been expecting a parcel all weekend. 

"Coming!" you call, tugging a sweater over your vest top, plaid pyjama pants dragging against the floor as you make your way out of your bedroom and into the main living area. "Two seconds!" 

You give yourself a precursory glance in the mirror next to the door before you answer it. You'd never go out like this, but the delivery driver won't see you long. You're mostly clean and fully dressed, though your socks don't match. 

That's another thing to tell Spencer. He must be rubbing off on you. 

"Hello," you say cheerily, pulling the door open with a smile. 

"Hi," Spencer says, big brown eyes aglow at the sight of you, his hands full to bursting. There are enough things in his hands to hide his chest completely. 

You don't have a chance to decipher exactly what he's brought as you flinch behind the cover of the door, not cruel enough to close it in his face, but wanting to. "Spencer! What are you doing here?" 

"Well, you live here." 

His hand comes up tentatively near yours on the door. He doesn't push it further in or attempt to come inside. He might have, if you hadn't squeaked in warning, biting down on the soft inside of your cheek. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Everything is fine!" You squeeze your eyes closed, your pulse a hummingbird hammering between them. 

"Really?" Spencer asks, taking back his hand. "Can I–"

There's a shuffling sound like he might step forward, and that's the last straw, you're fully panicking as you slam it closed.

A too long silence. Your breath comes unnaturally quickly, your thoughts racing to match. I can't believe I just did that. Why did I do that? 

What do I do? 

"Spencer, I'm naked," you say. 

"You were definitely wearing clothes. What's wrong? I brought breakfast, I thought I'd surprise you. I texted you. When you didn't answer I figured maybe you were still sleeping after last night, but… now I'm thinking maybe I read that wrong."

"You didn't read it wrong! You can always come over!" you insist, looking around behind you as if you might suddenly find a full face of makeup hiding in your sideboard, or a fresh change of clothes hanging on the coat hooks. 

"Okay, so, can I come in?" 

You poke at the sore bit of skin in your cheek with a wince. "Spence, I'm not dressed. Like, I'm not ready. I look like a mess." 

"You looked beautiful. For the two seconds that I could see your face, at least." You breathe in uselessly. An answer doesn't present itself. Spencer offers some wisdom while you panic, but you aren't sure you want to hear it. "We're dating, right? So as much as you clearly don't want me to see you like this, it's gonna happen. Hopefully regularly?" He laughs lightly on the other side of the door. "Can I please come in?" 

Nerves gnaw at your fingers, uncomfortable pins and needles. "What if you don't like it as much?" you ask quietly. You're surprised he can hear you. 

"Do you trust me?"

What sort of question is that? This isn't about trust. This is about you, an image of yourself you hold and that you want others to share, it's why you dress as you do, why you wear your intricate hairstyles, and spend hours upon hours priming and primping.

You want to be pretty deeply, especially in Spencer's eyes. Do you trust him to find you pretty still, without all the extra effort? Pretty from the moment you wake up? 

You wait for the verdict as you open the door again. The handle clicks and lugs, the hinge whining as it swings inward. You step backward to allow him space, meeting Spencer's eyes with an insecurity that doesn't suit you.

He doesn't react at first. His hand tightens around the neck of a sprawling bouquet, wildflowers like a burst of colour against his chest, the long white body of a lily of the valley kissing the curve of his neck. He smells like powdered sugar donuts and the food truck they came from, the story of his obsession a remembered delight. I think of you every time I cross the square to the train station by my place. The warm vanilla smell reminds me of your perfume. But I'm usually already thinking of you. He's been bringing you donuts intermittently for months now. 

He finally smiles at you, all manner of morning warmth flooding the room with him. The sun at his heels, the silky brown colour of his hair, you look up as he steps close, as light silhouettes him, turns the silk to fluff. You can see every detail this close down to the baby flyaways, and he can see the same. 

"How could you think I wouldn't like this?" he asks. His words are hushed with earnestness but yards from hesitant. Spencer is unabashedly, genuinely enamoured with you. "You're so pretty. You always are." 

You beg him silently to hold your face, taking the flowers from his hand. He can read you from that small action alone, raising a deft hand to your cheek. 

You lean into his palm. 

[ba9go]

not your cookie-cutter love story

bakugou katsuki x reader

bakugou katsuki overhears you whining about your cookie craving. he bakes you cookies. fluff and confessions!! (sfw)

part 3/3 of the cookie craving collection (completed)

more cookies for you? part 1 (sfw) 🍪 part 2 (sfw)

you can't remember the last time you ate a cookie, but you were craving cookies, and you just had to make sure everybody in the common room knew that you were craving cookies too.

"coooooooooookieeeee," you groaned for what must've been the umpteenth time, sinking further into the sofa. you sat between kirishima and mina, and they both winced.

"like... the chocolate chip kind?" kirishima asks, scratching the side of his head. "why don't you ask sato? i'm sure he—"

"already did," mina sighs, shaking her head. "didn't quite hit the spot, did it, baby?"

you shook your head with a pout. you flop your head onto mina's shoulder, and she pats your head.

kirishima blinks, perplexed, but he nods anyway. he hums, then gets into The Thinker pose, hand under his chin and brows furrowed. he thinks, ponders, then—

"have you tried bakugou?"

mina's head turns to look at you so fast you're worried she snapped her damn neck off, but the twinkling stars in her eyes and the teasing lilt in her voice has you sighing (and not in worry).

"oh. em. GEE!!! bakugou??? that's GENIUS, kiri, you're a GENIUS!!! you gotta do it, y/n, c'mon, this is your chance to—"

you slap a hand over mina's mouth. you smile at sweet, innocent kirishima, who looks both startled and petrified by you.

"my chance to satisfy my cookie craving! mina's right, you're a genius, kiri! thank you!" you continue smiling, and kirishima still looks petrified. mina's talking against your hand, saying something, actually maybe she's screaming a little?

kirishima laughs nervously and makes a mental note to not mess with you when you're craving cookies.

and that's how you ended up in front of bakugou's door later that evening.

"b- bakugou?" you call nervously.

knock knock.

it was 7:42pm, and you were worried. everyone knew that bakugou went to bed early, and you'd be lucky if bakugou didn't blast your face off on sight. honestly, getting bakugou to open the door is one thing, but how the fuck is he going to take your stupid cookie request—

the door swings open so fast, you physically startle, and you're greeted by bakugou himself.

bakugou's wearing his aji fry tee and a pair of long, fuzzy sweatpants. he looks so... domestic. his toothbrush sticks out from between his usual downturned lips, and you can't help but notice the small bit of frothy toothpaste at the corner of his mouth.

he looks adorable.

"i- it's me," you announced dumbly, with a nervous wave.

bakugou glares at you, but steps backwards, holding the door open with his foot. he beckons you into his room with a sharp jerk of his head, and you think you must be dreaming.

you follow bakugou into his room meekly and close the door behind you gently. you stand by the foot of his bed as he walks into his bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

"what." he asks flatly after he walks out the bathroom. bakugou walks past you to sit on his bed, back leaning against the headboard.

"well, uh, the thing is..." you cringed. this was it. you were certain that these were going to be your final words before bakugou blasts you straight to hell. "i've kind of been craving—"

"cookies."

"huh?" you turn to bakugou gaping like a god damn fish. he raises a brow at you questioningly. "how did you—"

"shitty hair told me," bakugou interrupts you. he frowns and sighs, running a hair through spiky but soft blond hair. you kind of want to pet it. "multiple times. the whole week."

you squeak(?) in embarrassment. oh god. kirishima. knowing the redhead, he couldn't have possibly had any ill intentions... but still... you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"wh- what... exactly did kirishima say?" you kind of regretted asking that. maybe you'd be better off not knowing.

"that you thought sato's cookies sucked ass," bakugou folds his hands behind his head, and closes his eyes.

"that is not true, and that is not what i said! sato's the best baker i know!"

"that so?" bakugou opens a single eye to look at you. you're simultaneously terrified and absolutely enthralled by that challenging glint in his eyes. "explain why you're here then. you want a room tour or some shit?"

bakugou breaks into a shit-eating grin as the flush on your cheeks deepens. you realise you're still standing awkwardly by the foot of his bed. you realise you're here, in bakugou's room, making a big fool out of yourself, trying to swallow both your embarrassment and your overwhelming feelings for him. god, this was so embarrassing.

you can't do this. you look away and down at the floor, face still burning. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, and try to regather your thoughts. this was fine. you're going to apologise, leave, and things will go back to normal tomorrow. yup, this was totally fine—

you feel a sharp flick against your forehead. you flinch, and you open your eyes to see that bakugou has moved himself away from his headboard, and is now sitting in front of you, at the foot of his bed. he doesn't look so smug now.

"oi." bakugou's hand falls, and you feel his fingers brush lightly against your knuckles. you look down, but his hands are already resting in his lap. you realise how tightly your hands are clenched by your sides, and try to relax.

"don't look so stressed," bakugou says gruffly, looking pointedly away from you. he's frowning yet again, but you don't sense any irritation from him. "was just fuckin' around."

oh. you blink. was bakugou trying to apologise?

"i- i know," you voice comes out as a whisper. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to cause you any trouble—"

bakugou snorts. "yer makin' it sound like cookies are difficult to bake," he looks back at you with a roll in his eyes. you realise he's trying to lighten the mood for the both of you, in his own way. it's working. you feel a tiny smile tugging at your lips. and maybe you're imagining things, but you swear that the furrow between bakugou's brows relaxes slightly.

"well, they're not easy either," you retort. you decide you're tired of standing, and sit next to bakugou on his bed. you guess bakugou's okay with it, considering that he doesn't shove you off the bed with an elbow to your ribs. you try to chase your nerves away.

"anybody with eyes and hands can make cookies."

"sure, but what about good cookies? like, actually good cookies. not just your basic chocolate chip."

bakugou's frown comes back in full force.

"ya tryna say i got shit taste buds or sumn'?"

"no," you scoff. "i'm saying that you've probably never had a good cookie. probably don't know how to make one either."

bakugou's eyes narrow at you, and you grin back at him.

"m'gonna make you eat your words," bakugou declares, crossing his arms over his chest. he glares at you, but it's missing his usual heat.

"really?!" you look at bakugou with stars in your eyes, and the way he flinches is kind of funny. "you're really gonna make cookies for me??" you sound so hopeful. maybe a little too hopeful, you realise.

but bakugou doesn't waver. he doesn't tear his eyes from your starry, lovestruck gaze. he just nods.

"yeah."

you practically skipped your way back to your dorm room. you were excited, and you rolled around in your bed restlessly and finally drifted asleep at god knows what hour.

you woke up the next morning to new messages.

(3) new messages

bakugou💣: You up? delivered 9:24am

bakugou💣: Nvm delivered 10:09am

bakugou💣: Just come to my room later delivered 10:12am

you had never gotten ready quicker your whole life.

you: SORRYYY i slept in a little im omw rn!!!

bakugou💣 reacted 👍 to your message.

bakugou didn't seem to be in his room when you knocked.

"bakugou?" you called again. you knocked a few more times, before finally pulling away from where your ear was against the door.

you fished your phone out of your pocket.

you: im outside!!! delivered 10:32am

you: wru? delivered 10:34am

you're about to send another message when you hear the rustling of plastic and footsteps along the corridor.

you turn to see bakugou walking towards you with hands full of groceries bags. you run walk quickly towards him, mentally noting how you probably looked like a dog chasing a stick.

you grip and tug at a few of the bags, offering to help hold them, but bakugou simply grunts and tugs them away from your grasp. you give up eventually.

"bakugou, we're making cookies right? you bought so much! was it expensive? let me pay you b—"

"kitchen." bakugou interrupts. a warm hand wraps around your wrist firmly. you flush, and look down to see that he's somehow managed to transfer all of the grocery bags to one hand. he ignores your protests as he drags you down the corridor, towards the kitchen.

bakugou only drops your wrist when he starts to unpack the groceries on the countertop.

"bakugou," you say almost pleadingly. "where's the receipt?"

"ate it."

"i know you didn't eat it."

"but i did?" bakugou's gaze flickers up and away from the groceries as he glances at you with his best pokerface, even arching a brow at you. you can't help the smile on your face. gosh, he was so stubborn.

"i'll just pay you 20 bucks then."

"nah."

"25."

"no."

"30."

"i'll pay you 30 to shut the fuck up."

"fine!" you let out a soft hmph, and move to sit by the kitchen island, crossing your arms. you keep them crossed even after bakugou finishes unpacking the groceries, and walks over to stand in front of you.

he pokes your bicep once. then twice. you don't budge.

without warning, bakugou's hands fall to your waist. you scream in fear before his fingers even move, and you try to squirm away, but it's too late—

"stop, stop!!" you cry, tears springing to your eyes. each tickle of his fingertips grazing your skin draws another bout of giggles from between your lips. you watch his evil grin spread. "i can't— please, i surrender!!"

bakugou looks so smug when he finally releases you.

"what'd you do that for?" you complained, rubbing your sides.

"you were too quiet."

"you told me to shut up!"

"so?"

"you piece of—"

"heeeyyyyyy!!!"

"shhh!!!! don't ruin the moment, idiot!!!"

you both whip around to see mina slapping kaminari in the arm. kirishima trails closely behind them, looking sheepish. you wince.

"morning, y/n, bakubro!" bless kirishima and his pure heart for trying to save the situation.

"heyyyy, lovebirds!" you wonder if kaminari has a death wish.

"FUCK OFF, ALL OF YOU!!!!!!"

you have to physically hold bakugou back from grabbing a metal pan to thwack kaminari in the head.

"look, we didn't mean to interrupt you guys, i swear!" kirishima raises both his hands up defensively. "we just want to toast up the pizza in the fridge for breakfast, alright? we'll scram afterwards!!"

bakugou refuses to let any of them step foot into the kitchen, not when he's already laid out all the bakingware and the ingredients nice and proper. you play peacemaker, and offer to toast the pizza for them. bakugou agrees.

it works. it's peaceful for a while. no death threats or yelling. just bakugou glaring at the ticking toaster oven like he's trying to explode it with just his eyes.

but all hell breaks loose when kaminari speaks up again.

"what is that?" kaminari squints and points at the red tub sitting on the countertop. he reads the label. "gochujang? isn't that spicy?"

and bakugou turns around, red-faced with anger. you rack your brain for a way to save kaminari's life. how, how, how. but kaminari continues,

"bakugou, are you sure you know how to make cookies?"

"you fucking dunceface, i'm going to fucking—"

you grab bakugou's arm with one hand and pull him towards you. he looks at you with angry eyes that widen in shock when your other arm snakes behind his neck.

"what the hell do you think you're—"

you yank him down and press your lips firmly against his.

bakugou's lips are soft. they feel slightly chapped against yours, and you resist the urge to lick them wet with your tongue. you close your eyes, and imagine how good it must feel to make out with bakugou, to have his tongue in your mouth—

your lips part slightly, and you can't help the tiny moan that escapes. your eyes fly open immediately.

bakugou is completely still, just looking at you with eyes blown wide.

you hear mina gasp, a loud slapping noise, and kirishima's hushed, scolding voice. you hear rustling, maybe some muffled protests, and a whispered "sorry!" before it's finally quiet.

you pull back slightly, but bakugou pulls you back in the moment your lips leave his. he finally wraps a strong arm around your waist and holds you flushed against him.

he doesn't kiss you. just holds you and stares at you with wide eyes.

"bakugou," you murmur softly. "i like you. i've liked you for a while now."

bakugou is blushing, you realise, watching his eyes flutter close. he ducks his head towards your shoulder and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

"yeah?" his breath is hot against your neck when he whispers against your skin. "i think i like you too."

BONUS:

kaminari has a death wish.

you can't blame him! he's just curious. he didn't want to interrupt anything, he just wanted a peek, you know? it was so rare to bakugou calm, much less domestic.

earlier in the morning, kaminari and kirishima visited the little grocery store to pick up some protein bars (well, only kirishima got protein bars. kaminari got chocolate.)

kaminari was surprised to see the buy-2-get-1-free promotion, but even more surprised to see bakugou with not one, but two baskets. full of... flour, sugar and eggs?

"bakubro!" kirishima waves excitedly. bakugou just nods in acknowledgement. "what're you doing—"

kaminari watches kirishima's eyes flicker to bakugou's baskets. right??? isn't that so odd??? kaminari expects kirishima to be as confused as he feels right now.

but kirishima only smiles, a little too knowingly. kaminari knows he's a bit of an idiot, but he doesn't enjoy feeling like an idiot. right now, he feels like an idiot who's been left out of a huge secret.

"that's really manly of you," kirishima smiles, nodding approvingly. "have fun, bro!"

bakugou nods at kirishima's words.

kaminari is seriously confused. he's even more confused after the stunt you pulled in the kitchen. right in front of his virgin eyes? how could you!

it's okay. a little snooping won't hurt, right?

half an hour after kirishima's dragged him into his room, kaminari sneaks out of him room and back to the kitchen.

he sees a huge ball of dough on the countertop. bakugou's pinching off pieces and rolling them into balls between his palms, and you're standing really close to him, kaminari notices.

you wrap an arm around bakugou's bicep, and kaminari thinks you're doomed. you're going to get your face blown off, he thinks.

but bakugou leans down towards you and presses a kiss to your cheek. you turn to look up at him. you're beaming, and kaminari has never seen bakugou look so... soft.

"you're really good at this, bakugou."

"call me katsuki." kaminari's jaw slackens. he is starting to regret his decision to snoop.

"really?" you ask excitedly. bakugou nods.

"katsuki!"

"i told you to stay out of it, man."

he turns around to see kirishima standing behind him with his arms crossed. kirishima sighs, and kaminari feels jealous, disgusted, and guilty all at once.

I FINALLY RECOVERED!!! this took so long for me to write, i had a weird mental block on top of being sick, and tumblr deleted one of my drafts right after i got hit by inspiration!!! im so sorry this took forever, but thank you guys for being so kind and patient 🥹🥹 you guys are the best. again, thank you for reading!!!!

...nsfw part 4 where they get messy in the kitchen? :D

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07 @v3n7s @deimosjay @iguanahykhv @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @deimosjay @notmeduhh

[pomefioredove]

If you still take req for the event (if not ignore 🙏), could we pls get "I can't stop thinking about you." With Sebek

RARE SEBEK REQUEST 🙏🙏🙏

summary: "I can't stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: sebek additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

You are a problem.

Not because you're always getting yourself into trouble, not because of your poor temperament, not even because of that direbeast you carry around with you.

No. Sebek couldn't have cared less about all that.

If that's all it was, he could have tolerated you. What's one more bothersome human to him?

You would have been no different from the others.

If not for...

"Ah, young love," Lilia sighs. There's a dreamy current in the stream of his voice that makes Sebek stiffen.

"It is NOT... love,"

The elder fae chuckles. "Yes, I remember what that was like. Denial is the first stage, you know,"

"That's grief, father," Silver mutters, keeping his head down to avoid being dragged into the conversation.

"And what is grief if not love?"

"Again," Sebek is tense. "I am not interested in such things. I have already devoted my life and service to Malleus."

Silver and Lilia give each other a look.

"You know, Sebek, it's okay to have these kinds of thoughts. You're young! You have the rest of your life to guard Malleus. You should have some fun," Lilia says.

"Father is right. Maybe you'll loosen up a bit. You're too stressed,"

"YOU'RE NOT STRESSED ENOUGH!"

Lilia sighs that certain familiar sigh.

"I admire your focus, Sebek. If you really want to rid yourself of these feelings, the fastest way to do so is confessing. That way, you won't spend months toiling over them,"

Sebek's expression flips forthwith, and he beams. "Thank you for your wisdom!"

Silver raises an eyebrow, and Lilia dismisses him with a wave. It doesn't matter, anyway; Sebek takes his words to heart.

It's long past dark when he pounds on Ramshackle's door.

Nonetheless, you answer, bleary-eyed and sluggish, a thumb-sucking Grim tucked in your arms like an infant.

"Sebek?" you ask. "Is... everything alright? Are you okay? Did something happen to Malleus?"

Your words of concern are like an arrow through his heart. Worried for both him and his liege?

But also... worried for him...

He better get this over with fast.

"Malleus is well, do not worry about him. This concerns us,"

You stare in disbelief, as if you hadn't heard him right. "Us?"

"Did you mishear me? I am here because I cannot stop thinking about you!"

"...Oh!"

Oh?

"...Me?"

"Am I not speaking loud enough for you? I said, I CANNO-"

Your eyes widen. "No! No, I heard you! I'm just confused. What exactly does that mean?"

Sebek crosses his arms. Of course. Sigh...

"Lilia said I might overcome my feelings for you if I express them. So? What do you have to say for yourself?"

You blink. You're clearly still tired, he thinks, otherwise you would have understood, accepted his words, and been gone by now.

Right? Nothing more.

"Um... I don't know," you finally say. "Maybe I can come to training tomorrow?"

Hm. A strange response, but not an unwelcome one. Sebek grins.

"Finally taking up the offer? Of course. Anyone who spends time with Malleus should know the basics of combat,"

You hum, looking up at the sky behind him. "I wasn't really thinking about spending time with Malleus, but... okay. Tomorrow,"

"Tomorrow!"

And with that, he's gone, with a warm feeling in his chest that wasn't there before.

Lilia must have been right about confessing- he suddenly feels much better.

[literaila]

eavesdropping

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: seriously, the door was already open

warnings: satoru is an idiot, as per usual, sad tsumiki :(

last part | next part

*

year one.

satoru approaches the door to tsumiki’s room and he pauses. 

after two weeks straight with the kids, you’d finally returned back to work--leaving the three of them to fend for themselves for the day--but you'd insisted on coming over for dinner. 

to which satoru suggested, for the twentieth time, that you might as well stay the night. might as well move in already. 

really, there's plenty of space. 

but you'd pinched his arm and pushed past him at the door, telling the kids that you brought dinner. you didn't stay behind to watch satoru cradle his arm or smile at the back of your head. 

and, seriously, he doesn't mean to eavesdrop (if he meant to he would've planned out something much more sophisticated than this) but the door is already slightly cracked. 

“—but megumi doesn’t like it," he hears tsumiki say, soft and concerned. her tiny voice is a whisper through the opened door, so satoru takes another step towards it. 

“that’s okay," he hears your voice saying, "you can talk about it if you want.”

one eye appears through the crack and he can see you and tsumiki, curled up on the bed, her eyes looking up at yours, tear stains an obvious sin. 

satoru is quiet as he pushes the door, ever so slightly.

“he always ignores me when i talk about my mom or his dad, or he says something mean about them. sometimes he won’t talk to me for the rest of the day.”

this seems plausible. just five minutes ago satoru had witnessed an influx of cursed energy coming from megumi when tsumiki merely mentioned their old house and the dolls she kept on her windowsill. 

he can still feel that anger brewing now, but megumi, so you’ve said to him, needs to breathe. you didn't exactly tell him to exit the table and leave the little boy alone, or come to tsumiki's room to check on the two of you, but, he knows that's what you meant. you don't have to say something for satoru to help out. he’s just doing what’s best for all of you.

honestly, you probably wouldn't even mind that he's listening in on this conversation. 

you tilt your head at her. “did you ask him why?” 

tsumiki sniffles, she pushes a sticky hand at the hair matted to her head, so you gently push it away and move it for her instead, much gentler with her than you've ever been with him. satoru almost complains, before he remembers that he's not even there.

“he thinks that they don’t care about us,” tsumiki answers, the hurt obvious in her voice, "he—he can’t remember everything that i can, but he doesn’t care. he doesn't want to.” 

you coo at her softly, nodding your head with every word. 

satoru has never heard the little girl so sad--he's used to her smiling face and bright energy. honestly, if there's an opposite to cursed energy, it would be tsumiki. 

you must feel as disturbed by the difference in the little girl as he does because he watches as you try to restrain a frown. 

satoru's eyes are wide through the crack as you attempt a smile. “it’s okay to not feel the same,” you tell her, “wanting to remember your parents isn’t going to make megumi hate you.” 

“but it upsets him.” 

“well not talking about it upsets you, right?” you say this the same way you chide satoru. and, yeah, you typically know best. 

not that he'll ever admit that. 

but tsumiki nods.

“then you should talk about it. don’t worry about megumi. you can tell me about them, or satoru.” 

he wants to open the door completely just at the sound of his name. 

“really?” 

“you can talk about whatever you want with us. we’ll always listen," your smile is genuine now. 

satoru tries to imagine you as a little girl, with someone wiping your tears away. but he doesn't quite believe that you were ever as small as tsumiki looks now. you'll always be this to him, he supposes, safe and infallible. 

even when you were younger, blinking idly at him as he introduced himself to his new underclassmen, you were certain. he's always been sure about that. 

tsumiki frowns, her eyes wide. “gojo put his hands over his ears and started singing yesterday when you asked him to take the trash out.” 

he has to catch a laugh. you shift around on the bed, your face is stern but satoru can see you about to laugh. 

you nudge her with your head, teasing. “i didn’t say he always listens to me.” 

the little girl laughs as you nuzzle her nose and for a moment, satoru thinks he's invading. 

but how can he walk away when the two of you are cuddled so close, looking so cute together? he should probably take a picture, just so he can always remember this. 

but then again, a camera probably wouldn't capture the supple sound of tsumiki's laugh as you cuddle her, or your smile as you hold her closer. 

so he just stands there, observing. 

you don't say anything as the girl thinks, merely rub your hand up and down on her back, like a reminder that you're still there. 

tsumiki remains quiet for a moment, and then she whispers, “i’m afraid that i’ll forget about my mom." 

satoru is shocked by the statement, little pricks of guilt perusing through his chest. during all of the digging he did about toji zenin, he wasn't sure where the woman was, or if she was worth finding. he hadn't even thought of it, really. he wasn't very good at that. 

and he watches as you pause, feeling kind of eager to see how you'll respond. 

your hand continues its circles, and you smile, gently, knowing. “i used to feel that way too," you tell her, just as softly. 

and maybe that hurts satoru even more.

“really?” 

“yeah. i don’t talk to my mom anymore, but i used to worry that i would forget how she smelled," your nose falls in tsumiki's hair, and you pause for a moment. satoru almost smiles as you close your eyes. "or the way she hugged me," you add, squeezing. 

he's never really heard you talk about your parents before. the vauge comment here and there, sure, but nothing more. he knows the bare bones of when you left home—if only from what yaga told suguru, a million years ago, but nothing more. you don’t talk about that.

or maybe he's just never asked. 

tsumiki nods, her wide eyes kind of amazed at the confession. and satoru is suddenly glad that he let you follow tsumiki to her room, that he knocked on your door that first night when he wasn't sure what to do with either of them. 

you understand this better than he ever could. better than he ever will. 

“did you forget?”

you smile. “no. it’s hard to forget those little things, no matter how long it’s been," you consider it for a second, "i don’t remember a lot about her but i remember hugging her when she got home from work, and the way she said my name.” 

tsumiki's perks up, “do you think it’ll be like that for me?” 

“i don’t know, sweetheart. it could be. you might remember more than i do," you cup her face for a moment, hoping with her. 

“my mom always wore rose perfume,” tsumiki's hands cover your own, and she looks closely at you, like satoru wishes he could. “do you miss your mom?” 

satoru holds his breath for a moment, and your eyes narrow as you think. 

“sometimes," you admit.

“does it make you sad?” 

“every once in a while.“ 

tsumiki swallows, her face falling. “i miss my mom."

you kiss her head. satoru sees your eyes flutter closed as you speak to her, so softly he almost misses it. “it’s okay to be sad without them.” 

satoru closes his eyes with you, for just a moment. 

he thinks about aquariums and trips to abandoned houses and souvenirs that he couldn't keep but covet. 

and his eyes open again. 

“really?” tsumiki asks as if she doubts it.

“yeah. that’s just the way love comes out sometimes. it makes you sad.” 

“will it always?” 

“well, you’ll always love your mom, right?” the girl nods without thinking, and you smile at her. “then being without her will always make you a little sad. and sometimes a lot. but it’ll find its place in your heart, like everything does.” 

tsumiki thinks about this for a moment. 

satoru wants her to ask how many holes you have in your heart, and if you think they could ever be filled. 

and he also wants her to never ask you anything again. he shouldn't be listening to this, but he's stuck at the door. 

“do you think about your parents a lot?” 

“almost every day,” you say, looking away from the girl for a moment. and then you look back. “but i think about how my mom is happy where she is, and how i’m happy where i am.” 

satoru almost falls through the door. 

“you are?” 

“well yeah,” you say, obviously. you squeeze her a bit. “i’ve got you here. and megumi and satoru. how couldn’t i be happy?” 

tsumiki settles into you, she nods in agreement, but considers something, frowning up at you. “i don’t want megumi to be mad at me. he’s my best friend.”

“he’s not really mad,” you tell her--and, well, satoru disagrees. megumi is mad at everything. “and even if he was, he’ll always forgive you. that’s what best friends do. they argue and then make up.”

“who’s your best friend?”

your lip twitches. “satoru. and we fight all the time.” 

“really? gojo?” 

satoru wants to ask the same question. shoko, he might've assumed. nanami, even. if you knew he was there you would probably say that tsumiki was your best friend, just to mess with him. 

but he's there, and you don't know. 

you shake your head, acknowledging how crazy this statement is. “yup. i’m stuck with him.” 

“has he always been your best friend?” 

“oh no,” you laugh at the suggestion. “we met just a couple of years ago, at school. and he always had more friends than i did.” 

“…but now?” 

“he’s been my best friend for a while, i guess, but i haven’t been his for very long.” 

satoru frowns. 

“cause you always fight?” 

you laugh. “something like that.” 

something like what? 

and then you turn to her, eyes on eyes, making sure that she’s looking at you. “tsumiki, you know—“

and satoru thinks that he’s heard enough. he doesn't want any more secrets or any more questions. he closes the door as quietly as possible, letting his ear linger on the wood when he hears the two of you laugh. 

satoru sits for a moment, almost able to see your smile through the door, without all of his eyes, like he really took that picture. 

and then he walks away, into the dining room, where megumi is pushing his dinner around on a plate. 

satoru sits down. 

“what are they doing?” megumi asks, gruffly. he's calmer now, satoru notes, though grumpy as ever. 

“girl stuff.” 

“it’s dinner time.” 

“oh, megumi,” satoru tsks, shaking his head. “you’ve got lots to learn about women.” 

megumi frowns. “i know more than you.” 

“okay, i just came here to have a good time—“

*

later on, you’re unloading the dishwasher, trying to be quiet while the kids get ready for bed, and satoru walks in.

in striped pajamas naturally. no glasses. he is already grinning at you as he leans against the counter, his fingers tapping on the granite. 

you roll your eyes automatically, pushing him a little because he's in your way. 

"what, satoru?" 

“so, i’m your best friend, huh?” 

you turn. “i knew that door was open—“ 

*

next part

[yuujispinkhair]

Brother (Part 2)

When you start dating Yuuji, you don't know that your sweet sunshine boy has an evil twin who wants to have his brother's girl, too.

Part 1 ++ Halloween Masterlist 2023

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) + Yuuji x Reader Genre: Horror, smut Word Count: 6k Warnings: 18+, dark content, consensual sex with Yuuji + noncon with Sukuna. Rough sex, degradation, humiliation, getting called slut, whore, cheater. Forced orgasms, pussy spanking, squirting, cumshots, creampie, kind of forced breeding. Sukuna isn't a nice guy in this story. Sukuna and Yuuji look completely alike. Sukuna doesn't have his tattoos. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The flashbacks of that night haunt your every thought. The memories of being forced to watch yourself in that dirty bathroom mirror and Sukuna standing behind you with his hands all over your body. His sneer, his mocking laugh. The helplessness you felt. The humiliation of cumming against your will and getting taunted for it.

Sukuna broke you that night. And maybe you would have stayed there on the bathroom floor lying in a puddle of squirt and cum after he was finished with you, waiting for someone to walk in and find you. But there was one thought that kept repeating in your mind over and over again: Yuuji must never find out!

You knew he would blame himself for what his brother had done to you out of jealousy.

And so you scrambled to your feet and hastily cleaned yourself before you stumbled back to the party with a fake smile plastered onto your face. When you spotted Yuuji in the hallway, all your instincts screamed at you to run the other way. He looked too much like his brother.

But you forced yourself to stay and smile as he walked towards you and smiled that big sunshine smile and pulled you into his strong arms.

"Cutie! I was wondering where you went. Did you meet some friends? Oh, why are your clothes wet?"

You forced yourself to lie to him when his gaze trailed over you with a worried expression on his pretty face.

"Oh, I knocked into someone, and she accidentally poured her drink over me. It's ok, baby, don't worry."

You forced yourself to go home with him after the party and sleep in his arms. Arms that felt exactly like the ones that had held you captive.

And since that night, you keep forcing yourself to act like everything is fine. You do it to protect Yuuji from a knowledge that will hurt him.

It's been three days since the party. Three days since you met the evil twin. And the shame and disgust still cling to you.

And the fact that the man who did this to you has the same face as your boyfriend makes this whole thing even more fucked up. Anytime you look at Yuuji, you now also see his brother.

And another thing bothers you: Yuuji lied to you.

You remember your first date very clearly. The typical small talk the two of you exchanged to get to know each other. What are your hobbies? What is your favorite color? Do you have any siblings?

You remember loud and clear that Yuuji said he has no siblings.

You are currently sitting on Yuuji's bed, watching a movie, but all you can do is stare at his side profile, watching him with narrowed eyes. Was it a misunderstanding? You can't stop yourself from blurting out,

"Yuuji? Do you have a brother?"

"Huh?"

Big golden eyes blink at you in surprise, and Yuuji shakes his head,

"I only have my grandpa. Didn't I tell you?"

Your heart is beating too fast. He is doing it again!

"I thought maybe you have a sibling who lives somewhere else....goes to college in another town or something, and you forgot to mention them."

"Oh, I see! But no. I am an only child."

He grins at you, that cute big boyish grin, and stretches, causing his hoodie to ride up and expose some of his firm tan abs before he laughs softly and lunges towards you to wrap you in his strong arms and pull you into one of his bear hugs.

You feel irritation well up in you. Why is he lying to you? Yuuji is such a sweet guy. Always smiling, always helping others, always so sweet and fun to be around. He always seems so genuine. And yet. He is keeping a dark secret from everyone. But why?

Is he worried you will leave him if you find out there is another guy who looks like Yuuji but is a violent and cruel sadist? You blink. Maybe that is it.

It must be hell for Yuuji to have a twin like that. Sukuna said he is the family curse. Now that you think about it, you realize that this is true. He is Yuuji's curse. Anytime Yuuji looks in the mirror, he sees the face of his evil twin. No wonder he doesn't want to talk about Sukuna! No wonder he moved far away from his hometown to attend college here!

But what was Sukuna doing at that party? Did he travel here to visit his brother and then see the two of you at the party? Is he gone again now? Or is he still somewhere near? Is he lurking in the shadows? Is he watching his brother's every move?

You gulp hard. It scares you to think Sukuna might be here, stalking you and Yuuji.

Instinctively, you snuggle closer to your boyfriend, seeking comfort, seeking his protection. And Yuuji reacts to it immediately, cuddling you tightly and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, sighing softly before he tells you how happy he is to have you and how much he loves you. His lips find yours and kiss you sweetly before they wander down your body, kissing, licking oh so tenderly, the complete opposite of his brother's touch.

Your anger at him has dissipated. Yuuji is a victim, too, cursed with a twin like Sukuna. And so you let Yuuji touch you. You caress his soft pink hair and moan his name as you spread your legs for him willingly when he asks you in that sweet, low voice if he can please eat you out.

And when he is lying on top of you later that night, fucking you into the mattress with deep but loving thrusts, you find yourself digging your nails into the buff muscles of his back, clinging to him, scratching his skin, as if you want to make sure he will never leave again.

You need him here with you. As long as Yuuji is here, you are safe from Sukuna. You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, arching your back to meet his horny thrusts, begging him for a second round, begging him to fuck you again and again and stay inside you all night.

He doesn't know it, but you need him to claim you back. You need the good twin to overwrite what the evil twin did to you.

You feel guilty the next morning when Yuuji gets up and stands before the bed with his back to you, and you see the deep red scratches your nails left on his muscular back.

But he just shrugs and grins that cute sheepish grin at you,

"Don't worry, cutie. It doesn't hurt, and I really loved how you didn't want to let go of me. That was so cute! I love knowing that I made my girl feel good."

It's party time again on Saturday, but you go there with an uneasy feeling. You cannot stop the shudder running down your back. You cannot stop your gaze from wandering restlessly through the room, watching, waiting, worrying.

Is Sukuna somewhere near?

You cling to Yuuji desperately, holding his hand the whole time, hugging him, burying your face in his broad chest, unwilling to let go.

He thinks it's cute that you are so clingy and kisses you sweetly, smiling at you so innocent and sweet. It breaks your heart. You need to protect this smile, this innocence.

You realize with horror that Sukuna isn't just Yuuji's dark secret anymore. He is also yours.

He managed to force his way into your life, into your relationship, into your body, and into your mind.

Yuuji gently pries his hand out of your grasp, smiling apologetically before he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and tells you that he has to use the bathroom real quick.

"I'll be back in a second, cutie!"

You feel like an idiot at how terrified you feel when your boyfriend leaves the room. You stare after him, watching him make his way through the crowd, taller than most of them, his pink hair standing out. Your gaze stays glued to that flash of pink, watching him walk further and further away from you, and with him, the safety you felt leaves you too.

You grab the cold bottle of coke from the table next to you, holding on to it as if it is your lifeline. You feel your breath speed up, and your hands cramp from how tightly you clutch the bottle while your gaze is fixed on the open doorway, heart hammering fearfully in your chest as you count the seconds waiting for Yuuji to come back. This time, you won't leave your spot. You won't wander around alone.

A flash of pink appears in the doorway, and you slump against the wall as a relieved smile lifts your lips. Until your mind provides a disturbing thought. Is that Yuuji? Or is that the wrong twin? How can you be sure this is Yuuji and not Sukuna, who is walking towards you? Isn't that gaze too devilish? Isn't that a smirk instead of a smile?

The relief you felt a moment ago is replaced by panic. Your heart is racing, your vision dancing with black spots. The bottle you were clutching so desperately slips out of your hand and lands on the floor.

You are frozen in place, watching an Itadori twin walk toward you without knowing which one it is. You stare at him like a deer trapped in the headlights, eyes wide, heart hammering wildly.

But then he blinks, and his lips lift in the typical broad smile. You can hear his happy laughter, even across the loud mix of voices.

You exhale loudly and shake your head to clear your thoughts. Stupid. You are so stupid! Of course, this is Yuuji! You curse yourself for being so paranoid and confusing your sweet, loving boyfriend with his evil twin.

Yuuji reaches you and leans down to peck your lips sweetly. He pulls away, and worry washes over his handsome face.

"Are you ok, baby? You look a bit sick. Do you need some cold water? Or some fresh air? Do you want us to leave?"

You smile at him weakly, shaking your head, still feeling shaken but refusing to let the memory of Sukuna ruin your evening.

"No, I'm fine, baby."

You step closer and wrap your arms around him, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply, trying to chase every trace of his twin away. You just have to keep kissing Yuuji. When he kisses you, you know who he is. You know that this is the right twin. That this is your sweet Yuuji.

Your left foot steps in the small puddle of coke, soaking through the canvas of your Converse, dampening your sock uncomfortably, but your lips keep moving against Yuuji's desperately.

You spend the night at Yuuji's, falling asleep in his strong arms, spooned by his warm buff body, finally feeling at ease here in his bed with his body pressing so reassuringly against your back.

But your dreams aren't that comforting.

You dream of a black hallway with hundreds of mirrors lining its walls. On the other end of the hallway stand two men. They both have the same pink hair and undercut. They have the same face and the same build. And they watch you with the same eyes as they both lift a hand, reaching out for you, silently beckoning you over. Come here, come to your boyfriend.

You wake up with a gasp. The red neon digits on the alarm clock tell you it's still the middle of the night. Yuuji's strong arms are still wrapped around you, his body is still pressing against your back, his warm breath is on your neck.

Warm lips close around your skin and suck. You moan softly, pushing your ass against the warm body behind you, rubbing it over the growing bulge in those boxer briefs. Maybe a good fuck with Yuuji will chase away the lingering uneasiness from the bad dream.

The lips on your neck become bolder, sucking roughly on your skin. The arms around you tighten, making you squeak because it's painful. Large, strong hands dig firmly into the soft flesh of your belly.

Your eyes widen, your body turning rigid as fear crashes over you. Cold dread fills your every fiber as you realize this isn't Yuuji behind you.

"Missed me, brat?"

Sukuna's low, mocking laugh fills your ears, and you spiral into the dark again. You tumble from one nightmare into the next. But this time, you can't wake up from it.

How did Sukuna get into Yuuji's apartment? Does he have a key? Or did he break in? And most importantly...

"Wh.. where is Yuuji?"

Sukuna's nails dig painfully into your skin. His voice sounds rough, angry,

"I don't like it when you talk about him while I am with you! You have no manners, brat!"

His hands grab your tits firmly, kneading them roughly through Yuuji's shirt that you wear for the night. The huge hard bulge of his erect cock is rutting firmly against you, letting you know what he will do to you.

And you know there is no escape.

You are once again trapped in the evil twin's arms. You cannot run from him, and you can't even scream, or you will alert Yuuji. Yuuji, who is probably in the kitchen or bathroom, and if he comes in here and sees you with his twin... You must protect him! He must not know!

And that leaves you here in the arms of this monster.

Sukuna shoves one hand under your shirt, groping your tits roughly, squeezing them possessively, and pinching your nipples between his fingers until they sting from a mix of pain and pleasure.

His other hand pushes between your thighs, forcing them apart so he can yank your panties to the side and expose your pussy to him, giving it a mean, hard slap from behind that makes you gasp.

Sukuna's mocking laughter fills your ear.

"Gotta remind that pathetic little cunt again what it feels like to get fucked right."

His unrelenting fingers slip between your pussy lips and push inside you, making tears well up in your eyes. Sukuna doesn't give you time to adjust but starts fingering you instantly, fucking you with two long fingers, hard and fast, making your whole body tremble from fear and pleasure. To your horror, you can hear the filthy squelching noises of your wet cunt, creaming up against your will.

"Oh, do you hear that? Your slutty little cunt is weeping for me. You thought about my cock every day, didn't you? Don't be shy, tell me all about it, slut! Tell me how much you missed getting fucked by me!"

Against your better judgment, you try to beg for his mercy,

"S...Sukuna, please just stop..."

A long finger curls brutally inside your cunt, pressing against your g-spot and massaging it with firm, rough circles, making your thighs press together and your body shake.

"Uh uh, what did I tell you?"

Of course, you should have known there is no mercy in him. You know his game by now, know what he wants. Sukuna fingers you brutally, torturing your g-spot, laughing when your hips jerk uncontrollably. Your resistance breaks, and you sob softly as tears of shame run down your face, and you tell him what he wants to hear,

"I'm sorry... I missed your cock so much, Sukuna. Please fuck me. Please let me cum on your cock again."

He laughs, opening his mouth and letting his canines graze over your neck,

"Bet you thought about me anytime my brother fucked you. A naughty cunt like yours isn't satisfied with a guy like my brother. You cheating little slut need my cock to fuck you right."

Your breath hitches, and your body goes rigid because you know what will come when Sukuna pulls his fingers out of you.

For a moment, your pussy flutters around nothing, but then Sukuna rams his thick hard cock deep into your wet heat, impaling you on his fat length with one brutal thrust.

Long fingers get shoved into your mouth, stuffing it with them, muffling your cries, filling your mouth with the taste of your own juices. You choke around them, but Sukuna just presses them firmer into your mouth, forcing you to take him from two sides, stuffing your cunt and your mouth as he uses you for his sick pleasure.

He humps you like a rabid animal, fucks you with brutal hard snaps of his hips while he groans in your ear, voice filled with glee and arousal,

"Ah yeah, that feels good. My brother fucked that little cunt so often that it molded to our cocks. You're such a dirty little cock slut, so insatiable, huh? Wanting every Itadori dick to fuck you stupid. Good thing you have two of us to fuck that greedy cunt."

His pace is brutal and unrelenting. His fat mushroom head hammers against your g-spot, torturing you with his cock, making your body react to the stimulation against your will, pussy creaming up for him, body jerking from pleasure in his violent hold.

Sukuna growls in your ear as one large hand grabs your wet pussy, keeping you in place, pulling you back against him. You keen around his fingers when he pinches your swollen clit meanly between two fingers, making your hips buck wildly.

"Take my cock, you slut!"

His taut balls slap heavily against your cunt with every rough thrust. Sukuna's fat cockhead is pressed against your g-spot, hitting it brutally, while his fingers attack your clit with rough strokes, rubbing hard, fast circles around it.

It's too much, too intense. The pleasure is hot and red, making your whole body jerk uncontrollably as you cry and sob around Sukuna's fingers. Your cunt shudders and pulses hotly around his brutal cock.

Heat floods your body as an intense orgasm gets forced out of you. Hot and wild, making you cum so hard that you think you will black out from it.

Your body is shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, pussy twitching hard around Sukuna's fat cock, which doesn't go unnoticed by him, of course,

"You little slut. Milking my cock so eagerly. You want more, huh? Want my cum this time? Was the greedy little cockslut sad that I didn't fuck her full last time, hm? Want to have your pussy fucked full like a big girl? Yeah, tonight you're gonna take my cum. I'm gonna fuck that greedy cunt full of it."

He growls, wrapping his arms around you and manhandling you into another position, on your belly, your face pressed into the pillow as Sukuna mounts you from behind. One of his hands is in your hair, grabbing it painfully and pushing your face down, keeping you firmly in place. But you couldn't go anywhere anyways. Not with his heavy body on top of you, fucking you brutally into the mattress.

He fucks his cock into your tight heat with erratic wild thrusts, giving himself over to pure primal need, punishing you with every hard thrust, chasing his orgasm with rough horny thrusts until you feel him cum in you, flooding your pussy with his hot seed.

"Yeah, take all of it, you greedy slut! I hope you get pregnant and have to carry my brat!"

He groans and growls as he leans down, cock still deep in your pussy, as if he wants to plug you up. His voice is amused when his lips brush over your ear,

"Now say thank you, you little slut."

You sob softly, hiding your face in the pillow, crying from the humiliation you feel as you mumble,

"Th... Thank you..."

But Sukuna's fingers twist painfully in your hair and yank your head up, forcing you to look at his sneering face. You hiccup as you stare at him with wide, tear-stained eyes. His mocking smirk looks even more evil here in the dim red glow of the alarm clock's light.

"Where are your manners, brat? Look at me while you thank me."

You sob weakly but force yourself to do as he commands,

"Th.. thank you, Sukuna. Thank you for f... fucking me.. and for g... giving me your cum."

He chuckles at your words, a sound full of mocking and triumph. One of his large hands grabs your chin, strong fingers pressing into your skin as he leans closer to lick over your cheek, licking up your hot tears,

"See, you can be a good girl if you want. It's a shame that I have to leave already, but my brother will be back any second now. 'Til next time, princess. Can't wait to make you cry with my cock again."

He leaves you lying there, pussy throbbing and full of his cum. You feel dirty, debauched, crying softly into the pillow.

You hate Sukuna so much, and you hate yourself, you hate your body, for reacting that way to him. How can you do this to Yuuji? Cumming on his brother's cock right here in Yuuji's bed? Lying here with your pussy filled to the brim with Sukuna's cum, while sweet Yuuji has no clue. Maybe Sukuna is right, and you are really a slut.

The door opens, and your body goes rigid. Which brother is it now? Sukuna or Yuuji? Somehow, both options sound terrifying at the moment. You are scared of Sukuna, but you feel guilty when you think of Yuuji.

You hastily wipe your tears off and force yourself to calm your breathing as you roll onto your side, pretending to be asleep.

The heavy weight of an Itadori man makes the mattress dip as he gets in bed behind you. You gulp hard. You don't dare breathe as a pair of muscular arms slips around you and a warm, buff body presses against your back.

But then a soft kiss is breathed on your neck, and a happy sigh exhaled against your ear.

Yuuji.

Sweet, strong Yuuji.

You snuggle against his buff body instinctively, needing him, needing his love and strength, even while you are drowning in shame and guilt.

Yuuji chuckles happily,

"Aww, hey, cutie, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry. I got hungry and had to make a sandwich. Come here. I'll cuddle you so my princess can sleep again. Or maybe we can do something else that will make you sleepy..."

His voice turns into a low, raspy whisper, making your pussy flutter even in this situation, as if you are conditioned to react with arousal to the sexy sound of his voice when he gets horny.

Yuuji's strong, muscular arms tighten around you as he nuzzles his face against your neck. You can feel his smile, and it makes things better and worse at the same time.

The guilt makes you feel sick. Here you are, lying in your sweet and loving boyfriend's arms, with your pussy still leaking his brother's cum.

Yuuji's lips trail tender kisses up and down your neck while he hums softly, oblivious to your inner turmoil. His large hands start wandering over your body. But it's such a different touch from Sukuna's. Yuuji's hands are gentle, loving when they slip under the old t-shirt he gave you, caressing your tits sweetly, circling your nipples tenderly until they are stiff and pleasure throbs in your lower belly.

Yuuji moans softly against your skin,

"I love you, baby. You feel so soft and sweet. I wanna spoil my pretty girl."

You can feel his fat cock hardening and pressing hotly against your ass through his boxers, so needy for you. But Yuuji is sweet about it, not demanding, not aggressive. He slips a hand into your panties to lovingly caress your clit with gentle slow flicks, pampering your pussy with his tender caresses.

Your head is spinning, lust pulsing hotly in your clit, making you spread your legs eagerly for Yuuji, pushing your throbbing cunt needily against his loving fingers, wanting to feel him, wanting him to chase away every trace of his brother.

He moans loudly when he feels more of your hot wet cunt, voice so sweet and sexy,

"Fuck, cutie. You are already so wet. That's so hot."

And your eyes fill with tears. You are choking on the guilt and shame. Knowing that most of the wetness is from the orgasm, Sukuna forced out of you and from his cum that's seeping out of you and coating your pussy lips so obscenely.

Suddenly, you see red. You can't take it anymore. You can't just lie here and spread your legs and let Yuuji pamper you as if you deserve it. As if everything is ok.

Nothing is ok! And it's all because of that monster, Sukuna! You hate him! You hate him for doing this to you and to his brother! You hate him for driving this wedge between you and Yuuji! But you won't let him destroy what you and Yuuji have! You won't let him win! Yuuji is the only Itadori brother you want to belong to, and you will prove it tonight!

You turn around in Yuuji's arms, making him gasp in surprise when you attack his lips with a fierce kiss, your hands running roughly through his pink hair, tugging on it and biting his bottom lip as you moan his name.

"Yuuji... I want to fuck, you baby. Let me ride you."

He moans in answer and rolls onto his back, pulling you with him eagerly while he licks into your mouth. You climb on top of him, straddling his lap, taking his fat cock in your hand and giving it slow, firm strokes that make him throw his head back and moan loudly.

Your mouth falls open as you watch him in the dim light. He looks just like his brother, just like Sukuna, but the difference is that you are the one in control now. 

Yuuji is just as strong as Sukuna. He could manhandle you and use you just like his twin, but he isn't like that. He is so sweet for you, such a good boy, obediently giving himself to you. You are the one who can do anything you want with him.

It sends a thrill through you, making your skin tingle with excitement and pleasure.

You are breathing heavily, grunting and gasping, lost in a feral need. You hastily pull your soaked panties to the side, not bothering to take them off, too lost in this primal need to get your man's cock into your wet needy cunt.

Yuuji moans loudly when you bring his fat mushroom tip to your puffy wet clit, rubbing it against your little bud, using Yuuji's cock to pleasure you.

Hot waves of pleasure shoot through your whole body, your clit pulsing hotly as you rub it against Yuuji, almost in a frenzy now in your need to fuck him and fuck every thought of Sukuna away.

You feel exhilarated by the power you have. Rubbing your wet messy pussy over Yuuji's twitching fat cock, hearing him moan and gasp. You're teasing his fat cock, basking in what you can do to him, how you can reduce an Itadori brother to a whimpering needy mess.

You watch that pretty face as he moans and whimpers, so openly showing you his pleasure. So submissive and good for you. His lips open in a loud, strangled moan, and then he starts begging you,

"Fuck... ah ah baby! Oh, cutie, please fuck me. Fuck me, baby, please. I need you, please wanna feel you. Please let me feel your pretty pussy around my cock!"

Your cunt is twitching hornily at his words. The power surge almost makes you cum all over Yuuji's swollen tip. But you need more. You need all of him. You finally sink down on his fat length, taking him in you in one eager motion until you sit completely on Yuuji's muscular thighs, his cock buried all the way in you, and your feral groan fills the small bedroom.

You feel dizzy with lust, dizzy with power, unable to hold back now that your boyfriend's cock kisses your g-spot and fills you so fully. You cry out softly, cumming just from sitting on Yuuji's fat cock.

You dig your nails into his buff pecs as you let him feel your pussy twitch around his cock, watching his pretty eyes roll back when he feels your orgasm around his cock.

"Yuuji! Ah, baby, you feel that? That's what you do to me, baby! I love you so much! I love you and your pretty cock, oh god!"

Sukuna could never do this to you! He can break and humiliate you, force you to cum on his cock. But he can never make you want him! You clench your teeth, not giving yourself or Yuuji a break, and start bucking your hips against him, riding his cock eagerly.

Soon you are bouncing wildly on Yuuji's fat cock with your head thrown back, moaning and screaming his name as you ride him hard, not holding back. And he lets you use him, lets you fuck him while his large hands knead your ass. His hips buck needily fucking his cock even deeper into you, so eager, so horny. And so sweet with his loud, needy moans and mewls, with his moaned love confessions and sweet praises.

Your sweet Yuuji.

He doesn't know he is fucking his brother's cum deeper into you with each deep horny thrust of his cock. He doesn't know he is mixing two Itadori seeds in your greedy pussy when he cums with a loud cry and fills you to the brim with his hot seed.

You won't let Sukuna win! You won't let him spoil what you have with Yuuji! Yuuji is the one you love. Yuuji is the one who deserves to cum in you and who deserves your pussy, and who deserves your orgasms. You will give him that! You will be his girl! You will fuck him even harder and cum even more for him than you do for his brother!

You moan Yuuji's name, not stopping but going for another orgasm, smiling when Yuuji lets you, even though he is mewling from how overstimulated his cock is.

And you slide up and down on him feverishly, letting his fat girth drag over your swollen clit until the pleasure peaks again and you feel your next orgasm wash over you in hot waves.

And this time, you finally squirt on him, feeling your hot creamy wetness gush over Yuuji's fat cock and his heavy balls, giving him your all.

He moans loudly when he feels it, his large hands kneading your ass firmly, guiding you up and down on his cock, letting you cum and cum and cum.

"Fuck, baby!! Yeah, make a mess on me, cutie. Fuck!"

Your pussy is overstimulated and puffy from how hard you fucked yourself on Yuuji's gorgeous cock. But you don't stop but keep riding him wildly. It's messy, slippery, and wet from your combined fluids, your cream and squirt, and Yuuji's hot cum that is seeping out of your cunt.

But you need more! You are in a frenzy, driven by the urge to cum on him again and again, making sure Sukuna loses this fucking game!

Yuuji is mewling under you, overstimulated, but letting you use him regardless, so eager to give you pleasure. And you ride yourself to orgasm after orgasm on his gorgeous fat cock, while moaning and screaming his name over and over again.

"Fuck! Yuujiii! Yes yes!! You're gonna make me squirt again, baby!"

You almost black out when the next orgasm rips through you. Your body is shaking uncontrollably, so weak that you just slump on Yuuji's lap, moaning even louder when his fat tip presses even firmer against your g-spot.

But Yuuji's strong hands catch you and hold you, lifting you up and down on his fat cock, letting you ride your orgasm out on him, his golden eyes watching the spot where your pussy and his cock are connected. The spot where you squirt all over him again, making a sticky mess on his cock and his abs, showing him how good his cock makes you feel.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, Yuuji!! Oh, baby!! I love you! No one could ever fuck me as good as you!"

I hope you are still here somewhere, Sukuna. I hope you hear me fuck your brother and how much I love it. I hope you hear me scream his name like I will never scream yours.

You spend the following week being a clingy girlfriend to Yuuji. Always hugging him, always snuggling against him, following him from room to room. He notices it but doesn't mind. He wears a bright, sunny smile on his pretty face, happy that his girl loves him so much. And he moans so sweetly for you when you keep him up every night for hours, fucking him almost desperately until the bed is a mess from your combined cum.

You try to keep Sukuna away by always being by Yuuji's side, telling yourself that the evil twin will not dare approach you while his brother is by your side. 

But it is hard at times.

Yuuji, Sukuna. Sukuna, Yuuji. They look the same, and it fucks with your mind. Sometimes, you get scared. Sometimes, you think Yuuji's fingers dig too firmly into your flesh. Sometimes, you think he is smirking at you. Sometimes you shudder when he fucks you from behind with hard, fast thrusts, and his low voice growls in your ear, sounding too similar to his brother.

You hate that the evil twin has that effect on you. That Sukuna somehow always seems to be with you, even when you are with Yuuji. But you have to make the best of this. You will love and fuck Yuuji even harder. You will spend even more time with him. Maybe this way, you can chase Sukuna completely away from your mind.

Maybe after college, you and Yuuji can move far away, making sure Sukuna will never find you again.

An old friend of Yuuji visits for the weekend. A guy with tousled black hair and dark blue eyes who watches his surroundings with a cool, intelligent gaze.

Fushiguro Megumi. He grew up with Yuuji. Went to school with him. They played together as little kids.

You wait until you are alone with him before you ask,

"Megumi?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever met Yuuji's twin brother, Sukuna?"

Megumi's head whips around, and he frowns at you. His gaze is surprisingly hostile. Blue eyes narrow as he looks at you and answers in a cold voice,

"What do you mean? What sick game are you playing? Of course, I haven't met him. Sukuna died in the womb! Yuuji consumed his brother before he could be born. It's something that bothers him a lot. That's why he doesn't talk about it!"

The world around you seems to crumble away. You stare at Megumi, eyes wide, fingers tingling. For a long moment, a heavy silence fills the room. And then hysterical laughter bubbles out of your mouth. You can feel your mouth lift, stretching your cheeks in a horribly grotesque shape as your loud, hysterical laughter carries through the apartment, sounding shrill and insane.

And deep inside Yuuji, his evil twin throws his head back and laughs, too.

Do you understand it now, you stupid girl? There is no running from me. He is I, and I am he.

Thank you so much for reading the last part of "Brother"!! I hope you enjoyed it!! I had a lot of fun planning and writing this story. I love the horror elements, and I hope it could give you an uneasy feeling too lmaooo. It's so terrifying to me to imagine that the guy you love has the same face as the guy who does all those horrible things to you.

And how did you like the ending?? Ahhahaa, I am laughing with Sukuna. So much for running away together with Yuuji to escape his evil twin ;)

The smut part with Yuuji affected me A LOT. I hope my fellow Yuuji lovers had a feast with this!!

I hope you enjoyed this horror mini-series! Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be sweet.

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤:

summary: what the one and only arthurtv would be like as your boyfriend

authors note: tysm for the request anon, i loved writing these! this man is literally a walking green flag like how is he even real. sorry for the slow uploads btw i've been super busy lately

please consider checking out my masterlist

-> the gentleman above all gentlemen istg

-> he's such a caring boyfriend. whenever you are sick or had a bad day, he seems to know exactly what you need and won't leave you alone until you feel better

-> literally gives the best hugs ever. i can't rlly explain it but I feel like his body just runs warm so he's really cozy and you always feel so secure when he's got his arms around you, cradling you into his chest

-> arthur makes getting out of bed in the morning so much more difficult simply because his cuddles are so comfy that you never want to leave

-> not super into pda, the most he will do in public is quick pecks but in private he is SUPER clingy, to the point where he's basically an extra limb

-> whether he's holding your hand/got an arm slung around your waist or has his head laid in your lap while watching tv, he's not happy unless he's touching you in some way

-> we all know arthur is a massive nerd, and you probably are too, so you often go on dates to museums or art galleries

-> also, zoo/aquarium dates are a must in your relationship. he loves to infodump random animal facts and you love to stare at him adoringly while he infodumps random animal facts

-> arthur is always so attentive to you, and notices every difference in your appearance and can tell when your mood changes even if you are trying to hide it from him

-> he also remembers all the little details about you, even the minor stuff you don't remember telling him, and you often joke that he knows you better than you do

-> shows his love for you through small acts of service like always having your favourite food stocked in his kitchen and learning your skincare routine so he can do it for you when you are too tired

-> would also give you his shoes without hesitation if your feet started hurting on a night out. he doesn't care how uncomfortable it is for him or that he looks like an idiot. he just wants you to feel as comfortable as possible

-> arthur absolutely adores the soft domestic moments together. very much a quality time person, and he loves that you can make even mundane chores seem more interesting

-> george and arthur hill like to tease him about being a simp, but they genuinely think its so sweet how happy being around you makes him

-> george once told you, when you were over at the boys' house and your boyfriend was in the bathroom, that in all the time they've known each other, he has never seen arthur smile as much as he did when he was with you

-> similar to george, he has a very busy work schedule so he tries to treasure the time you do have together. unfortunately, he does sometimes miss your dates due to filming overrunning but he always feels terrible and tries to make it up to you the best he can

-> your relationship is so sweet and supportive. you're the kind of couple that you can tell, just by looking at them, how inlove they are with each other