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zarameraki · 3 months

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♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you stood a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame. The robe slipped from your shoulders, revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly tight, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you—I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing of his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic speech.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, bearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye cruelly absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re—you’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

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vincenteuniverse · 11 months

Text

Ken's progression OUT of color

This is kinda a cornplate thought that I had nowhere else to put but I love how in the Barbie movie(SPOILERS), Ryan Gosling's Ken's outfits symbolically showcase his "descent" into full patriarchy mode over time.

At the beginning of the film Ken's beach outfit (his default) has an equal balance of pink and blue. Pink is obviously Barbie's color, and shows Ken as fitting well into the femininity and style of Barbieland, while blue could be argued to be Ken's color (a scene later when he's especially confident features him wearing all denim blue, and the stereotypical gender of these colors, especially when found in kid's toys, supports these basic binaries as associated with these colors).

When Ken decides to leave Barbieland with Barbie to delve into the outside world, his color scheme goes full pink, desperate enough to be with Barbie that his attire reflects how dependent his identity is on hers at this stage.

However, it isn't long before Ken's exploration of the real world leads him to exciting new discoveries about the patriarchy and what it can do for him. Here he is introduced to a newfound sense of self independent from barbie, and while he still carries a pink scarf around his neck, the rest of his outfit has devolved into black and white while hers has remained colorful. As he pursues this new-to-him idea further, his worldview is becoming less unique, pretty, and vibrant(in addition to becoming much more masculine).

It is only his scarf that ties him to Barbie now, and upon making the choice not to follow her to Mattel, he becomes fully independent, losing the scarf and any trace of pink in his attire the next time we see him in his mojo dojo casa house coat and beach off outfit underneath.

In his most masculine moment during "Just Ken", he and the other Kens all wear a uniform of the most traditionally male ben shapiro outfit ever: A T-Shirt, belt, and dress pants. All black(and no white either to contrast like the previous 2 outfits). It's fitting that the Kens, in their destructive warpath, imagine themselves as perfectly cleaned up yet violently masculine dancers in their heads, their outfits devoid of all of the flair and character of Barbieland.

(excuse the shitty picture) After Ken has his little self-growth moment, his new sweatshirt reflects the changed and much more balanced man he has become, much more accepting of himself and a life where he can co-exist with Barbie without being with her. This outfit is again an almost perfect balance of pink and blue, both sides of Ken now a bit more at peace, his colors not pushed out by the LITERALLY black hole of toxic masculinity.

The color scheme also matches the roller blading outfit, so perhaps it shows a somewhat intermediary stage of Ken's development wherein he is still attached to and at peace with Barbieland, but where he is starting to become more independent as well. anyway these are all fun and i genuinely have no fucking idea why Mattel didn't cash in on literally making dolls of all the characters and their outfits these would be so fun to own

#barbie #barbenheimer #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #ken barbie #kenergy

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ssahotchnerr · 26 days

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fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe

it's a date

there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3

You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.

Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:

A low whistle exited Morgan.

"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.

Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.

"Hot date?"

"You could say that."

Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.

"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.

"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."

"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."

The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.

As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.

Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.

"That bad?"

You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."

There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.

"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."

That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"

"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."

"Which one?"

"Shrek."

Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.

"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.

"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."

Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.

"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.

"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.

The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.

"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.

"What about me?"

"Who's going to make it up to you?"

"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.

"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."

A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"

"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"

"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."

All yours. He could get used to that.

"It's a date."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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feeder86 · 2 months

Text

Aaron's Empire

“Yes?” Aaron asked abruptly, seeing that Kirk was calling him yet again.

“He says he’s full already,” Kirk replied. “He’s only had three doughnuts and now he just wants to sit and watch a movie.”

Aaron sighed. As one of his newest recruits, Kirk was more than a little needy when it came to applying the skills that Aaron had tried to instil in him. Every year it seemed like there were more and more guys moving to the city with a kink for fattening up. Although Aaron hadn’t liked it, it had always been necessary for him to outsource to other feeders when he became overrun. He simply did not have the time to tackle all the boys who got in contact with him, desperate to be fattened and submit to him.

“Did you try the trigger words?” Aaron asked. “I made a list of the nicknames Jay gets the most aroused by. They’re all on the file I sent you: ‘Fatso��, ‘Piggy’… I think he even got pretty hard at ‘Lardass’ as well,” he rambled on, trying to recall his observations from the initial feed he had done himself with Jay, three months back.

“I tried them,” Kirk shot back. “Can you come over? I really don’t know what else to do.”

Sighing in frustration, Aaron ended the call. On paper, Kirk looked set to be an awesome feeder: good looking, athletic and masculine-looking. He was one of the star players in the college football team and seemed to have that natural air of authority about him. Feeding a short, little chub like Jay should have been simple. But this was the fourth time he’d got in contact, wanting more support. Perhaps he would make a good feeder one day, but that still seemed like a long way off.

“Thanks for coming,” Kirk smiled, opening the door to Jay’s apartment and seeing that Aaron had picked up a couple of pizzas along the way. He was whispering, having not told Jay that he had needed to get Aaron over to help him.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Aaron asked, indignantly, seeing the feeder’s attire. “What is with that sweater?” “It’s cold out tonight,” Kirk mumbled back.

“So?” Aaron grumbled, taking his own shirt and pants off as soon as he was through the door. “If you want these fatties to eat, you sell them the fantasy,” he pointed at his own staggeringly built and athletic body. “They don’t need the wholesome ‘boy next door’ look putting them off,” he sighed, still amazed by how average such a sexy guy could look in something so ill-fitting. “And would it kill you to put some product in your hair?” he continued, noticing that Kirk must have come straight from the showers after his football training.

Kirk nodded, seeming to agree that he hadn’t made enough effort. He followed Aaron’s lead, removing the offending sweater and taking off his pants, despite the slight chill in the apartment. Then he went to the tap and brushed some warm water through his hair to fluff it up a little.

“Hello there, Fatso!” Aaron smiled, leading the way into the lounge area with the pizza boxes.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight as well!” Jay smiled, actually getting up from his chair. Back when Aaron had been feeding the guy himself, the chub had been well trained to stay sitting on his blubbery glutes the entire time he was there. His shirt wasn’t even off and he was wearing actual slippers on his feet, like an old man. Had Kirk really tried to initiate a kinky feeding session when the pig wasn’t even stripped? Just how many other rules like this had the boy been letting slide?

Aaron pulled Jay into a passionate kiss. He allowed both of their hands to roam freely, and by the time they came out of it, Aaron had successfully removed both Jay’s shirt and pants. “You’re looking so big now!” Aaron smiled, taking in Jay’s fattened physique: 350 lbs of tits, belly rolls and blubber.

“I’ve gained another 2 lbs since I saw you last!” Jay boasted, grinning with pride.

Aaron smiled, despite the irritation he felt. Two pounds in an entire month? Did he really think that was acceptable? Did Kirk not challenge him on such mediocre gains? After all the hours Aaron had put in training up the guy’s appetite, back when he was little more than a twink, a two pound gain should have been just a normal part of life for him now.

“Kirk tells me you’ve not got much of an appetite tonight?” Aaron went on, sitting the fat boy back down in his chair, where he belonged. “Is there any reason why?”

Jay looked a little awkward, but smiled as he saw Kirk coming to stand beside Aaron; his toned athlete’s body now on show. “The truth is,” Jay mumbled, “I’ve got my dad and step-mom coming to stay with me this weekend. My dad’s always been somewhat critical of me since I started getting fat. I guess it sort of dampens the appetite,” he sighed.

Aaron nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” he smiled sweetly. “Thank you for being so open with me. It must be incredibly hard for you. As kinky as it is to get this fat, explaining it to your family is never easy.”

“That’s it,” Jay agreed, visibly relaxing now he had shared his concerns aloud. He sat back a little more in his chair and rubbed his tummy. “It’s hard to eat tonight when I know my dad is going to be even more disappointed in me.”

Again, Aaron smiled. He tapped Kirk’s tight butt, silently ordering him into his position, behind Jay’s chair. The next movement was about to begin.

“I really do understand,” Aaron offered lovingly. “As you can imagine, I see it time and time again with all my boys.”

Jay smiled back, with little comprehension of how many guys across the city were actually fattening up under Aaron’s watchful eye.

“But, do you know who doesn’t care?” Aaron asked next, slipping off his underwear and letting his erection spring out. “This guy here,” he pointed at his already pulsing hardness. “He couldn't give a shit about all that sort of crap. The fat boys whinge about how full they are, or how none of their clothes fit. They bitch about their families, their friends not being supportive. They talk about how much they sweat now, how out of breath they get…” Aaron went on, rubbing his boner and seeing that Jay simply could not take his eyes off it. “But this guy…” Aaron emphasised again, “...he just couldn’t give a fuck! He actually gets off on it; their complaints and genuine concerns. He just wants to see them eat and grow, fatter and fatter every single day.”

Aaron nodded to Kirk, letting him know that it was time to tap the newly aroused fatty on the head, ordering him to start sucking. Then, only a few seconds later, Jay’s mouth enveloped as much of Aaron’s dick as possible, moaning with lust as he did so.

Kirk, who was now rubbing Jay’s back encouragingly, looked across at Aaron, clearly impressed at how quickly he had turned the situation around. However, Aaron merely stared back at him in annoyance. It wasn’t just the fact that Jay had always been so pathetically weak at giving blow jobs, but why hadn’t Kirk done this? How many times had he been told these strategies to get the pigs eating when they were less keen? Sometimes their mouths just needed a little warm up; a little lubricating. “Go get the pizzas,” he ordered sternly, about to begin yet another demonstration of how to stuff a pig to his absolute limit.

After that evening, Aaron assigned Jay to another of his feeders, hoping that Jay was simply a poor fit for him. In his place, he gave Kirk a new and highly motivated second year college student who had impressed him a lot when he’d interviewed him about why he wanted to be fattened up. Perhaps seeing the fattening process from scratch might give Kirk the kick up the ass that he needed.

“Five pounds?” Aaron asked, feeling exasperated. “You’ve had three months and that;s all you’ve done to him? He’ll lose that in no time now he’s gone home for the summer!”

“He had exams and stuff, though,” Kirk tried. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, come on, Kirk! How many times have I talked to you about stress eating? You missed a golden opportunity to really push some weight onto him there! He also tells me he’s working on a farm over the summer. How the hell did you let that happen? You know that’s too much exercise!”

“I didn’t really think it was my place to say anything…” Kirk mumbled, realising that he had messed up yet again.

“You’re the fucking feeder!” Aaron shouted, finally letting his frustration get the better of him. “Of course it’s your place to say these things to the pigs!”

Kirk sighed, disappointed with himself. “I’ll do better when I see him next. I promise.”

Aaron shook his head in disappointment yet again. He liked Kirk, he really did. He had all the hallmarks of a good feeder, with a pretty face that made everyone stop and stare. He had the sex appeal to make a guy eat if he really wanted them to. But his application of the basic feeder principles and training were utterly lost on him.

“Look, let’s just take this time as a little breather,” Aaron suggested. “I have some time off at the end of this month. You can come over to my place and we’ll do some little role plays and scenarios; stuff that should help you when your pig gets back for the new semester.”

Kirk nodded gratefully, knowing that he still had so much to learn.

“So, what is a feeder’s main objective?” Aaron asked a couple of weeks later as he led Kirk into his apartment.

The question clearly caught the football player off guard and a long pause followed before he finally answered. “That the pig eats everything we give them,” he offered, seeming confident.

Aaron shook his head. “You’re thinking too short term,” he shot back. “A feeder’s goal is, and always will be, the results: the tight pants, the fat gains, the number on the scales. That’s all that really matters. There are different ways to get there: meal plans, submission, dominance, you name it. But the feeder’s goal is always in the blubber he can pack onto his prey. Is that clear?”

Kirk nodded.

“That means that it really doesn’t matter if you never even use some of the strategies we’re going to revise today. As long as you get the results, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay. That makes sense,” Kirk agreed.

“Feeding is a sensual exercise,” Aaron began, taking his shirt off and removing his pants; still pumped from his gym workout that morning. “You’re never going to feed a pig to his full capacity unless you get the support you need. So where do you find that support?”

Kirk, who had been following Aaron’s lead and undressing, sat himself down in the guy’s feeding chair and pondered the question. “You mean I should call you?” he asked.

Again, Aaron sighed. None of this information should have been new to him. “No, Kirk! The best feeder a pig’s ever going to have is always right between his legs.” He reached out, holding the football player’s semi. “It’s the reason he first fell into gaining and it’s the thing that led him straight to you, so always make sure that you use it in the most effective way that you can,” he explained, rubbing Kirk’s dick until it stood firm and erect. “If fatty stops eating or starts slowing down, give some attention to this thing and you’ll soon see him getting hungry again.”

“Should I suck it?” Kirk asked keenly.

Aaron frowned at the silly question. “It’s entirely up to you. Just…get it hard and keep it that way. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Kirk settled a little more into his chair, enjoying this training more than the other sessions he had had with Aaron. He’d always done better with practical exercises, rather than trying to memorise the theory behind principles.

“Now, most of the time, your pig will buy his own food that he wants you to feed him. But, if ever you’re doing it, you’ve got to choose it all very carefully, thinking about the feeder’s goal… which is?” he quickly questioned.

“The results!” Kirk parroted back to him, pleased that he had remembered something at last.

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded, now pointing to the vast selection of food he had set up on the coffee table for his date with a long-term fatty who was coming over later. “Everything here is from the list I sent you back when you first started. These particular brands are all staggeringly high in calories and quickly digested.” He looked at Kirk’s blank face. “I’ll email the list over to you again then,” he simply stated, deciding not to pull Kirk up on his lack of studiousness.

“What would you start with?” Kirk asked, seeing it all spread out and presented so nicely.

“Well, that depends on your fatty’s preference. You should know what his favourites are; the things that are best to get him started. For example, what is it that catches your eye the most?”

“The cream cakes,” Kirk replied instantly.

“Very well,” Aaron smiled, picking one up. “Before I start, I look down. Is his dick hard? Yes. Are his eyes fixed on the food? Can I make him salivate?”

At that moment, Kirk swallowed a build up of saliva in his mouth.

“Pigs love to be played with. And, at the start, that’s fine. You can waft it under his nose,” he demonstrated comically. “You can dip your finger in the cream and tap it on his piggy little snout,” he joked, doing just that with Kirk. “But when the time comes to feed, you let them know that you’re serious,” he stated sternly. “Because this isn’t a game, is it? And you can’t let the fat boy treat it like one.”

Kirk slowly nodded his head.

“You get their eyes fixed on you now,” Aaron continued, ensuring that Kirk was doing just that. “They realise, you are the feeder. You are the one they are doing this for. During this time, only the two of you exist in the entire world. Pleasure and greed are the only things that have any consequence now. Nothing else.”

Kirk was absolutely silent, taking all of the information in like never before. He looked entirely fixed within the mindset of the boys he would someday feed. Out of a simple curiosity, Aaron brought the cake a little closer to the guy’s mouth, hardly believing that the jock’s jaws were unhinging. His mouth gaping open, Aaron pushed the cake beyond the point of no return, until it squished and fell upon Kirk’s tongue.

Suddenly Kirk was chewing, with his cheeks filled with cream. Had the guy completely misunderstood the concept of role-playing? Sure, the boy was always prettier than he was intelligent, but feeders didn’t do this. This food wasn’t for him. Yet his hardness throbbed every bit as much as the countless others Aaron had done this to in the past.

“Now you praise your pig,” Aaron explained, deciding to take the strange turn all in his stride and act like this was as he had planned. “You tell him how greedy he’s being; how large and fat this will all make him; how he’s going to struggle to get into his pants tomorrow.”

Kirk moaned with pleasure as the last of the cake was pushed into his mouth. He licked Aaron’s fingers clean; his greedy eyes now turning to the other items on the table. Intuitively, Aaron reached across and found the next item, holding it until it was ready and then pushing it deep inside the athletic boy’s mouth.

“Your pig is going to get thirsty pretty quickly, so you need your drinks to hand. These need to be equally high in calories,” he smiled, cracking open a can of soda. “Not too cold,” he stated cautiously. “Everything should flow. We hit them hard and fast while they’re in the zone.”

Kirk took the can of soda and chugged it in one.

Still determined not to show even the slightest bit of surprise, Aaron simply continued his tuition. “Don’t be tempted to just feed the pig what he likes,” he cautioned, seeing that Kirk’s eyes had fallen back onto the cream cakes. “We want to keep mixing up those flavours and textures, pouring in the liquid calories and making the pig wait for those favourites.”

Kirk nodded, accepting whatever was fed into his mouth.

“Always, ALWAYS keep an eye on his dick,” Aaron insisted, taking his hand to Kirk’s hardness and rubbing it for short, gentle periods. “He’s going to want to climax, but it’s your job to make him wait. You do not let him touch himself! His dick belongs to you. You call the shots. And the pig isn’t getting his pleasure until he’s completely stuffed.”

At this, Kirk seemed to redouble his efforts, eating faster and greedier than even before. He’d slipped perfectly into the role; indistinguishable in his apparent lust to feed. His stomach was bloating up, yet still he feasted.

“By this point, your pig is going to be completely disoriented. He’s lost track of what he’s eaten and he has no idea what’s coming next. He’s already massively overdosed on calories, but because of the speed you’re delivering it all to him, his brain hasn’t caught up yet. This is the stuffing ‘window of opportunity’, and you’ve got to push the fatty hard until it closes.”

The food on the table was quickly disappearing. It had been a few months since Aaron had fed a young athlete of Kirk’s stature; almost forgetting how much boys like this could gorge.

“You’ll know when it’s time to stop. The pace slows and they wince at the stretch. But any sign of heaving and you’ve already taken it too far,” Aaron stated. “You make them look you in the eyes again as you take their dick in your hand. You make them say ‘thank you’ for doing this to them, even though they might, even now, be starting to regret how much they have eaten. You tell them what a greedy pig they have been; what all those calories are going to do to their body.”

Kirk was already pulling a face as he felt his orgasm building.

“Now you make them rub their big ol’ tummy,” Aaron ordered, grabbing at Kirk’s limp wrist and placing the boy’s large hand on the top, and most swollen part, of his bloated stomach.

Immediately, the jock’s hand began to explore that new, tightly-packed and solid shape; all so beautifully timed as his pleasure was about to peak.

“And as tough as it is to admit… this moment… the fatty’s actual climax; it’s really not about the feeder,” Aaron whispered now. “It’s about the pig realising what he’s done to HIMSELF; how completely fucked he is for getting so turned on, eating like he has for you.”

Kirk’s breathing was so erratic, with short, squeaking moans escaping from his lips every couple of seconds.

“You make the fat boy look you in the eye. Do what you want inbetween. You can make him promise to get fatter for you, make him oink like a pig, or force a final doughnut into his greedy little mouth; it really doesn’t matter,” he breathed, holding Kirk’s stare with a vice-like grip. “Just let the pig know that you see him for exactly what he is; that he can’t hide it anymore. That he is, and will always be, your greedy hog.”

A massive jet released from Kirk’s crotch, followed by several others, until an almost unfathomable amount of the boy’s excitement had covered his chest and splashed itself all over Aaron’s feeding chair. Yet more stains that would never come out.

Kirk’s charge was assigned a new feeder when he returned to college after the summer. Aaron had made the decision that the boy, who had been so keen to fatten up when Aaron had interviewed him, had been messed around enough by an inadequate feeder. In fact, Aaron had come to realise that Kirk wasn’t even that. Sure, Aaron had flipped feeders into gainers in the past. He even joked that most feeders came with an expiry date, when it would all become too much for them and they’d long for the blubber to be added to their bodies instead. But, Kirk was such a simple boy. Did he even realise yet that he was destined to become a fatty?

“I’m guessing you’ve played some good football in your time,” remarked Kirk’s football coach, heading over to speak to Aaron after he had seen the guy watching his boys play.

“Is it that obvious?” Aaron smiled, knowing that most people assumed he was some sort of football player, given his statuesque height and build. He shook hands with the guy, knowing just how to handle men like these, immediately inventing a backstory for himself in the game that would give him a lot more credibility with the coach. He folded his arms in the same way as him, mimicking the body language and slowly engaging the man enough so that he visibly relaxed more in his company; believing every word he said.

“So just one little broken ankle and that was your entire future NFL career gone?” the coach asked, full of sympathy.

“I think about it every single day,” Aaron lied, shaking his head bitterly. “But you’ve got some decent talent on the field here,” he smiled, pointing to the spot where all the young guys had last stood before heading in to shower.

“They’re okay,” the coach agreed, sounding unconvinced. “We’ve certainly had stronger teams in the past.”

Aaron nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. “There was one who really caught my eye; the really tall one who spent most of the time over there,” he pointed.

“Kirk?” the coach asked. “Yeah, he’s a good player. Not necessarily the brightest guy I’ve ever come across. He’s quite versatile and plays in a variety of positions. I wouldn’t say he exactly excels in any of them though.”

“Have you ever thought about playing him as an offensive tackle?” Aaron asked. “From what I saw today, he looks more suited to that than anything.”

At this, the coach winced. “You should see some of the guys from the other teams in our league who play in that position. Kirk may be tall and strong, but he’d be dwarfed if he had to go up against them.”

“Bulk him up then,” Aaron shrugged, deciding to lift his arm and show off his bicep. “It’s what my coach did for me. It was the best thing that ever happened for my career. Before the ankle…” he added.

The two men discussed the idea for a little while longer, but Aaron had no intention of hanging around just in case Kirk came out and came over, giving the game away that they knew each other. Instead, he simply planted the seed and left it there to grow.

“When am I getting a new pig?” Kirk asked a couple of weeks later, settling into Aaron’s feeding chair.

“When I think you’re ready,” Aaron lied. “Which reminds me,” he smiled, pulling out his phone and playing a video to the football hunk. “Your last assignment’s new feeder sent me this. He’s getting great results with your old pig. Look at the blubber in that tummy now. His six pack is completely gone!”

“He looks completely different!” Kirk marvelled.

“That’s not even the best part,” Aaron chuckled, waiting for the section in the video when the pig turned and bounced his butt cheeks. “His new feeder says he’s never seen anything like it. It’s like the muscle just completely vanished and been replaced by pure blubber. Look at those thighs too! He’s going to be so bottom heavy!”

“That can’t be the same guy,” Kirk protested. “He didn’t gain like that for me.”

“Well, it’s all about finding the right technique that works for your pig,” Aaron explained, undressing himself and grabbing the supplies from the kitchen.

Kirk had followed his lead, kicking his shirt, sweatpants and underwear to the side and sitting himself back down again. An obvious coating and ring of light blubber sat around his middle from all the sessions Aaron had conducted with him in the last few weeks, but it wasn’t time to acknowledge that with him just yet.

“This is the shake and suck technique,” Aaron went on. “It’s the method that helped your old pig get that huge ass of his. I made this shake up this morning, so it’s had plenty of time to lose the chill.” Aaron heaved, lifting a huge gallon container of thick liquid and putting it on the coffee table with a bump. “You’ve had it plenty of times before. You know what’s in it,” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…” Kirk mumbled, looking at the size of the container. “I’ve only had the odd flask of it when we’ve been training. No one could drink that much of it.”

“That’s where this funnel comes in so handy,” the feeder smiled, lifting it up for Kirk to see. “It stops the pig from ending the chug the moment he starts to feel a little uncomfortable, and so it gives us a lot more control over how much we want the fat boy to take down.”

Kirk’s erection had returned. His legs twitched and he looked down suggestively at it. “What about the sucking part of this method?” he asked, knowing that no one gave a blow job like Aaron.

“It’s called the ‘shake and suck’ technique,” Aaron laughed. “As in… one BEFORE the other!” he teased, noting that Kirk appeared aroused enough to begin. “All you need to do is hold this flask, like this,” he instructed, resting Kirk’s head backwards into the chair at the same time. “Then just, chug away until the funnel is emptied.”

From his position, standing behind the feeding chair and looking over Kirk, Aaron could fully appreciate the gentle loss of definition in the boy’s stomach muscles. Today’s session was going to do so much more serious damage! He lifted the container and let it glug outwards, filling the funnel held steady by the athlete underneath. Just as instructed, the naive boy began swallowing it all up, even as Aaron continued to pour; never letting it get below half-way.

At the first break, Kirk moaned loudly, rubbing his enlarged stomach. Then he burped, long and coarsely, until he at last felt more comfortable. “Fuck!” he sighed. “How much of that stuff did you just pour in? I thought it was never going to end!”

“There’s plenty more, don’t you worry!” Aaron laughed, turning so that he could feed his own erection into Kirk’s mouth. “This is something you can only do at the start of this technique,” Aaron explained. “And you’ve got to go gentle. You can’t be making your pig gag when there’s all that fattening liquid in his stomach.”

Aaron could tell that Kirk was at last starting to learn some of the blow job skills he’d been taught in recent weeks. Aaron exhaled and felt his eyes widen. Shit, this guy was actually pretty good!

“And that’s enough of that,” Aaron smiled, pulling out before he lost his composure. “Back to business!” he ordered, placing the funnel back into Kirk’s hands. “This second chug has to be shorter, and the next one will be shorter again,” he explained, already pouring from the now considerably lighter container and looking down to check that Kirk’s hardness wasn’t faltering.

At the end of the second chug, Kirk moaned once more and gave off a long fog-horn like burp. However, this time his stomach was so rounded and stretched, actually resembling a belly for the first time. Without even prompting, Kirk’s hands began exploring it as Aaron engaged in a gentle first suck in his crotch. Not that Aaron would ever have told him, but already over two thirds of the gallon of gainer shake was gone.

“Depending on your pig, this method can take all day. And that’s fine,” Aaron nodded. “The main thing is, we want that shake inside them.”

Automatically, Kirk rested his head back again the moment he felt ready. The third session began and Kirk was soon enjoying the rewards of having Aaron’s lips around his erection once more.

“A pretty effective technique, huh?” Aaron laughed, just stopping as Kirk seemed about to climax.

“Let’s finish this thing!” Kirk grunted, throwing his head back and knowing that the end was near. Fuck the consequences. He needed that orgasm soon.

“You want me to take on another pig?” asked Jack, one of Aaron’s most capable feeders, a few weeks later. “That’s two in the last six weeks!”

Aaron nodded apologetically. “I know. I would do it myself, but I just don’t have the time. His name’s Peter; twenty-two, already chubby; great little appetite when I interviewed him. He wants pushing hard, and he’s kinky as fuck. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with him,” he summarised, showing Jack a picture before sending over the contact details.

“Cute!” Jack smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay with letting me have all the fun?”

“I just know you’ll do a great job,” Aaron chuckled, slapping the guy on his back.

Jack simply smiled back knowingly. “I bumped into Kirk the other day. He told me you haven’t given him a pig in months.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are reasons for that.”

“You’re flipping him, aren’t you?” Jack pressed. “Kirk tried to tell me that his coach is bulking him up to play a new position on the field, but there’s no denying your handiwork on that little paunch of his. That’s where most of your time is going these days, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Aaron smirked, liking how direct Jack could be at times. “I’m throwing everything at him and I’ve yet to find a single one of my moves that doesn’t work on him.”

“Does he realise?” Jack asked.

“What do you think?” Aaron laughed, knowing that he didn’t need to hide his wicked side with a guy like Jack. “I’ve even got him writing up an assignment for me on the ‘feeder training’ he’s had in the last few weeks! He’s coming round this evening for the ‘Funnel, Fuck and Flip’ exercise.”

Jack chuckled. He’d only met Kirk a handful of times, so could hardly pity the guy if he had fallen into one of Aaron’s typical games. “So when are you going to make your move on him?” he asked.

“Soon,” Aaron smiled. “He’s almost ready now… Just one last little push!”

Later that evening, Kirk bent himself against the table with his legs stretched. His stomach was hard and swollen with gainer shake, drooping down as his head was held only inches above a decadent three-layered chocolate cake.

“Not many guys can hold an erection like I can,” Aaron explained, having pushed himself inside Kirk’s tight butt hole with a lot less wincing from the athlete than in previous weeks. “So don’t worry if you struggle with this move when you’re feeding a fatty this way.”

“Okay,” Kirk mumbled back, breathing deeply as his body tried to get used to the sheer size of Aaron’s thick hardness inside of him. “I think I’ll be ready in a second,” he whispered.

“Good,” Aaron replied, trying not to laugh. He leaned a little more over Kirk’s broad back. “Now, messy pigs adore this one. All I’m going to do is gently lower your head into the cake before I start fucking you.”

“So the pig has to try and eat whilst he’s getting pounded?” Kirk asked.

“That’s the idea,” Aaron smirked.

“Is that even possible?” Kirk asked again.

“I guess you’ll soon find out,” Aaron chuckled, checking that Kirk was ready and then pushing his head gently into the cake so that his entire face was covered in frosting. “Good Piggy!” he called out, already starting to fuck him. Despite the many fatties he’d worked on over the years, few were ever as thrilling as this!

A few weeks later, Kirk had arrived at Aaron’s in a somewhat distracted mood. “Coach says I’ve put on too much fat in my bulk, and that it’s affected my performance on the field.”

“Of course you have,” Aaron shrugged, getting himself undressed as Kirk did the same. “How else am I supposed to teach you about how to tease a fat ass properly? You can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Kirk seemed to consider this.

“Now is the time when you can really get to grips with your pig’s trigger words. Some of them love being called out on being a pig, whereas others are not keen. Some don’t even like teasing at all.”

“So you ask them what words they like to be called?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Aaron sighed, wondering how he ever thought that Kirk could make a good feeder. He simply had no intuition at all. “You try the words out and see what works best. Which ones suit them? Which ones get them the hardest? That’s the way I figured out yours.”

“I have trigger words?” Kirk shot back in surprise.

“Of course you do. All FAT BOYS do,” Aaron smiled, poking Kirk in his doughy middle, making the guy’s hardness bounce. “‘Fat Boy’: the name works on you every time. I never could have got you to complete that pot of whipping cream last week without it.”

“Fuck!” Kirk marvelled, perhaps realising for the first time just how much Aaron had actually burrowed into his head. “Are there more?”

“Of course there are,” Aaron nodded. “There are movements too. Like when I cup your glutes and give them a little bounce,” he demonstrated, giving Kirk’s butt cheek the lightest of wobbles. “See?” he asked, nodding down at Kirk’s weeping erection. “You’ve been so firm and athletic your whole life, this is a completely new experience for you. The feeling of fresh fat invading your body. It’s why being called a ‘fat ass’ works so well on you too.”

Aaron kissed him deeply as he continued to jiggle the boy’s glutes. Kirk’s breathing was hot and heavy; more aroused than ever he had been so early into their sessions. This was new and exciting.

“Few people would spot it in you; partly because you're so broad and muscular. But you’re also a very submissive boy,” Aaron continued.

“I am?” Kirk asked. “I thought feeders had to be mostly dominant?”

At this Aaron sniggered. “Oh, come on, Kirk!” he smiled, still bouncing the soft glutes. “You’re no feeder.”

Kirk closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling of his jiggling butt cheeks. “What am I then?” he whispered, sounding like he was finally ready to hear the truth.

Aaron placed his mouth right next to Kirk’s ear and whispered back, deploying the boy’s ultimate trigger word.

“You’re my big, fat HOG!”

Just like that, Kirk moaned like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces. He pulled Aaron into him and kissed him with more passion than ever before.

“You’re going to quit football for me,” Aaron demanded, immediately seizing the moment as Kirk had surrendered himself; a part of him released and fully conscious for the first time.

“I’ll do anything!” Kirk agreed, allowing himself to be pushed into the feeding chair; another stuffing about to commence.

“Good!” Aaron grinned. “Because you’re moving in here with me too. I’m taking a six month sabbatical from the other fatties. I want to see what I can do when I just devote myself to one little hog, twenty four hours a day. How far can I take them?”

Kirk looked down at his stout little belly and his eyes filled with lust. “I’m all yours!”

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeedee #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainerstories #gainerfic #gainer fiction #gainer fic #gay feedee

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cheapshrimpysheep · 9 months

Text

Falling Asleep on Them

SUMMARY: How would they react to you falling asleep on them?

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points

WORD COUNT: An average of 240 words per character.

COMMENTS: I wanted to do Belphie's part like the others but it ended up being shorter and you'll see why. Just a little bullet points' list. But I hope you enjoy. ⭐️

⭐️ Falling Asleep on Them 2 - Side Characters

CONTEXT: This takes place in the original time-line of Obey Me! One master to rule them all! So you live with them in the House of Lamentation.

You were probably helping Lucifer with his paperwork in his office.

Taking a break to rest a little and drink tea, you sit down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. He lets you sit on his lap if you want.

With so much paperwork, your head started to hurt a little and Lucifer suggests that you put your head on his shoulder and rest your head.

You were so comfortable that you ended up falling asleep.

When he notices, he smiles sweetly. He sees this as a way of showing how good you feel with him. Comfortable and safe.

He caresses your cheek. He thinks you're so cute. If you have long hair, he will stray it away from your face.

He will pick you up in his arms and take you to your bedroom.

If you are still dressed in your clothes, he will remove your shoes and accessories that you may have, leaving you with only your shirt and pants to make you more comfortable.

He leaves a note next to you saying "Don't worry, I'll finish the rest of the paperwork. Thank you. Good night, my love."

He kisses you on the forehead and leaves your bedroom.

After he finishes his work and before he goes to bed, he will stop by your room one last time to check on you. If you are awake and invite him to sleep with you, he will gladly accept.

You were watching a movie with Mammon in his bedroom. It was a calm film, perhaps even a little romantic.

You were snuggled up to each other. It was a calm film, perhaps even a little romantic. You were snuggled together, the lights were off, all the conditions were in place for you to fall asleep on him.

Me realizes you're asleep when he whispers something to you about the movie and you don't respond. He looks at you and listens carefully, your breathing is the slow breathing of someone who is sleeping.

If your head starts to fall forward, he will quickly catch it.

He'll be a little unsure of what to do, because he wants to take you to bed, but to do that he has to move, but he doesn't want to wake you up.

He manages to take you in his arms without waking you up and considers taking you to your bedroom. But he would have to go up those stairs in his bedroom and that could be dangerous.

He ends up laying you on his bed. You were already in your pajamas. He goes to lie down on the couch, but before that he admires you sleeping. He wants to kiss you so much, but he doesn't want to wake you up, so he gives you a light kiss on the cheek.

And he takes a photo (or a few) of you sleeping in his bed before going back to the couch.

He ends up sleeping on the couch. Unless you wake up in the middle of the night and invite him to sleep with you.

You were hanging out with Levi in his room, late at night, and ended up staying next to him watching him play a game.

It was a cute and very peaceful game. Then you laid your head on his shoulder, which already made him blush, and meanwhile you fell asleep.

He realizes you're asleep when he sees one of your hands slide lazily across your lap.

He panics a little. He needs to pick you up and take you to bed, but he can't wake you up. He needs a plan.

He does everything possible and impossible to hold you in his arms without waking you up. You look so cute when you sleep that waking you up now would be like breaking the most beautiful thing in the world.

He uses his tail to open and close his bedroom door and yours. He also uses it to adjust your bed.

He will put you in bed with the utmost care, and will slowly take a step back to make sure he didn't wake you up.

Seeing that you continue to sleep peacefully, he will watch you as if he idolizes you. And will take a bunch of photos to use as his wallpapers.

Maybe he fell asleep in your room while looking at you. You can always invite him to sleep with you if you wake up in the middle of the night.

You and Satan were reading books in his room. You were cuddled up to each other when you fell asleep.

He realized that you had fallen asleep when he saw the book you were holding slowly fall from your lap.

He quickly marked the page you were on with one of his fingers before the book closed for then place a kitten marker on it. He does the same with his book, trying not to move too much so as not to wake you.

The two of you were practically already lying on his bed and taking you to your room, at the risk of tripping over a book, would be dangerous. So instead, he tucks you into his bed.

As he has a single bed, he ends up leaving you alone in bed so you can be more comfortable.

But before he goes, he looks at you, appreciating you under the moonlight. You were so beautiful. He kisses your cheek softly and goes to the armchair.

He ends up falling asleep in the armchair, facing you because he was alternating between reading his book and looking at you sleeping.

You can always invite him to sleep with you if you wake up in the middle of the night. He will accept it for sure.

You and Asmo were having a super relaxing beauty treatment. Asmo almost fell asleep too, but managed to stop himself from doing so.

He notices that you are very still and silent and calls out to you in a sweet, low voice. He notices that you are very still and silent and calls out to you in a sweet, low voice. But you don't respond, and that's how he realizes you've fallen asleep.

He immediately jumps up from where he was sitting or lying down and approaches you to watch you for a bit. OMG you are so cute! he has to take some pics! Some just with you, others with him next to you and kissing you on the face softly, so as not to wake you up.

Well, he's not very strong, but he needs to get you to bed, or at least a bed. So the furthest he can take you without the risk of waking you up is to his bed.

Although his bed is large, it is a single bed. However, he has no other place to sleep. I mean, he won't sleep in a chair or armchair, that would ruin his beauty sleep. But he also doesn't want to sleep with you without knowing if you would accept it.

So, at great cost because he finds you adorable in your sleep, he wakes you up with soft kisses and saying your name sweetly. And he will ask you if he can sleep with you or if you prefer to go to sleep in your room.

You probably did a lot of physical exercise with Beel. Either you went for a walk in a place with steep terrain, or played a sports game together, something you liked or didn't mind doing with him.

Practicing this type of physical activity together can greatly strengthen a relationship, which is why he really wanted to do something with you. Whatever it was, it ended up being exhausting for you.

If your legs were sore, he carried you back home in his arms.

You two take a shower and go to his and Belphie's room to rest together. But your feet still feel sore, and when you mention this to Beel, he offers to give them a massage.

You two still chat a little, but your tiredness mixed with Beel's massage makes you relax until you fall asleep.

He realizes you've fallen asleep when you stop responding to him. He looks at you sleeping and smiles, thinking that you're really cute.

He easily picks you up and takes you to your bed. He's used to doing the same thing with Belphie, but in your case, he's much more careful not to wake you up.

He lays you down on the bed and really wants to kiss you goodnight on the forehead.

If he wakes you up with his kiss, he'll feel a little bad and apologize. And this will be your opportunity to invite him to sleep with you if you want.

I mean, how could you not fall asleep on Belphie? He loves to sleep and more than that he loves to snuggle and cuddle with you. So that's how you end up falling asleep most of the time and he just sleeps with you.

But if somehow, he's awake on the couch and you fall asleep on his shoulder while he's distracted on his D.D.D. or something, he will... lay you down on the couch and sleep with you.

He won't bother taking you to a bed and will definitely use the fact that you've already fallen asleep to sleep right there with you.

If you want to sleep in a bed, you will have to wake up and wake him up so you can go to your bed. And of course he will ask if he can continue sleeping with you in your bed.

No matter where you fall asleep, he will simply lie down next to you and sleep with you.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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the-irreverend · 1 year

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Perhaps my biggest issue with Zootopia was that despite focusing on issues of racism and prejudice, I always felt like it only did so in a superficial and barebones way. And this issue became harder to ignore after watching Nimona.

The racism within the world of Zootopia is less of a formidable obstacle and more just a mere hurdle on the track that just quickly jumped over. The biggest example of this problem is with the film's "main antagonist," Mayor Bellwether. Aside from being a crappy twist villain, we never see the effects she has had while she was in power, effects such as policies, laws, or other systemic powers she could've wielded to malign and oppress the predators of Zootopia.

But the way Nimona tackles the subject of prejudice just completely puts Zootopia to shame. For Nimona (the character), the malice she experiences is not some mere bump in the road, it's a suffocating presence that surrounds her on every side, one that she has to endure on a constant basis. Whereas the supremacism in Zootopia was this mere stomachache that fades as soon as it appears, in Nimona, it's this all-consuming cancer that infects every corner of society from government to law enforcement, to goshdarn cereal ads. And not only that but this culture of supremacism is also accepted by almost everyone in said society, much of the time without them even asking themselves why they're accepting it.

Many have argued that you shouldn't go too hard on Zootopia's social commentary because "it's only a kid's movie," but after seeing Nimona tackle the same subject with far more depth and nuance, I can't help but ask: "what's Zootopia's excuse?"

#nimona #nd stevenson #zootopia #nimona netflix #netflix nimona #nimona film #nimona 2023 #netflix animation #netflix #disney #walt disney #disney movies #disney animation #animation

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bitch-for-bo · 7 months

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The Better Brother (artist! Matsukawa x chubby fem reader) 18+

miss me? ;)

NSFW; MINORS GTF OUTTA HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!

TW: you're a cheater BUT you only cheat on a cheater asshole AND we support women's wrongs :))))

summary: Your fiancé leaves you across the ocean to sort out this whole 'wedding' thing all by yourself. Well.... lets just say that YOU get sorted out instead ;).

(((((((((loosely based on the movie Moonstruck (heavily recommend!!!!))))))))))

“Married?....... You want to get married?......to me?”

You wondered what you looked like at the moment, you wondered if your eyes were bugging out of your head or if your jaw looked completely locked in its unhinged position.

It definitely felt like they were.

It felt like your whole world had just come crashing down around you. All because of those 4 little words.

“Why not? You’ve taken care of me for the last 5 years, I want to take care of each other for the rest of our lives.”

…..this wasn’t a part of your plan.

You didn’t quite know what your life plan was…. But it definitely wasn’t this.

“Why now?” you whisper, noticing that for every second you didn’t answer your boyfriend with an ecstatic yes, another restaurant patron's eyes locked onto you. You could feel your face growing hot with embarrassment and yet you still couldn’t blindly accept this proposal, not without knowing why.

“Why not now?” he asked, taking your hands into his. You could see the sweat starting to form on his hairline, the anxiety of public rejection becoming apparent in his tone as you worked to avoid his gaze.

Why not now?

Does he not hear himself? Why not now?

“I just-” you stuttered out, taking your hands back into your own laps, wiping the moisture off your palms against your thighs.

“-Just hear me out!” He cut you off, perhaps a bit too loudly as well, seeing as the crowd of nosy spectators seemed to be inconspicuously growing by the second. He looked frazzled, in fact, this might have been the most affected that you’d ever seen him. Usually, he was the cool-headed one, the blasé, jaded businessman. But now he sat, his voice raising with each word, face red with humiliation. He looked panicked, far too panicked for the situation.

“My mother…” He started, clearing his throat, trying to collect himself before he could make a fool of himself in public.

Ahh… his mother

you thought….. That was obviously why he was so panicked. That was why he was asking you this all of the sudden.

His mother was pressuring him.

Well, the joke is on him, you’re not gonna give in just because of the wishes of his mother.

“....My mother is dying.”

If your eyes weren’t bulging out of your head before, they definitely were now.

“w-What- when?..... Oh god….” you gasped, the guilt automatically washing over you as you watched your partner's face melt into worry, his brows knitting together as you brought your hands back onto the table to envelope his.

“They called me this morning…. They asked me if I could fly back home to….. ya know?”

“Of course..” you nodded, “you need to be with her right now…. Have you booked your flight yet? Should I try to book it now?”

Now listen…. It was a serious situation. And a horrible one at that, and you were 100% devoted to getting your partner home to his dying mother. But you couldn’t deny that you were also trying to steer the conversation back away from marriage.

But he wasn’t going to let you forget.

“Darling please….” he sighed, squeezing your hands in his, “my mother, she once told me that all she wants in this world… all she wants… is to see me happy… to see me married. And I want you to marry me.”

“God….” you sighed “I just….. You’re sure you want me?...”

He nods, holding your gaze.

It felt like his eyes were melting into your face. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there were still a good handful of people burning holes into your back. They were all expecting an answer.

Not only that, they were expecting a particular answer. An answer you weren’t sure that you were ready to give.

But for god's sake, the man’s mother was dying, and he pretty much made it sound like her dying wish was for her son to marry. If you said no now you’d be a monster.

Against your better judgment, you glanced around the restaurant, your eyes meeting the eager gazes of not only fellow patrons but staff as well. God, was that a tray of champagne waiting??

After scanning the room, your eyes finally made it back to the man who just asked you to marry him.

“Yes.” you whispered, offering him a small, unsure smile.

A smile that he returned tenfold, announcing to the restaurant, “she said yes!” prompting applause and congratulatory champagne.

He slipped the ring onto your finger, kissing your hands as you sat and watched him with that same small smile on your face.

“Now of course, I’ll have to fly out to my mother, but we should get married as soon as possible.” He said, dropping your hands to take a long drink of champagne. “I trust you want to organize the wedding?”

So much was happening, staff was swarming around you, pouring drinks and grabbing your hand to inspect the ring, and the restaurant chatter had resumed, and somehow along the way a violinist had been called in to serenade you as well.

You felt like your brain was being torn into 5 different pieces, all equally painful and all equally taxing.

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’d moved on in the conversation, rambling about flight times, how long he’d be staying, and who was going to fill in for him at work.

You were definitely overstimulated by the complete chaos surrounding you, but you told yourself it would be okay, that you could just zone out until he eventually tired and decided to drag the both of you home for the night.

Were you ready to get married? Hell no! But what were you supposed to do?

God, what would your parents say about this? Marrying a man nearly 20 years your senior. Did you love him? Of course!

….well…..maybe…… you definitely felt a strong connection with him……. so then what was this dread?

It was just anxiety. It had to be. After all, you had never planned to get married in the first place. You’d seen one too many marriages fail, one too many couples grow to hate each other and you’d sworn it off.

It wasn’t that you hated marriage in particular, you’d seen plenty of happily married people, you suppose it was just the fact that in your mind, it was impossible for you to be one of those happily married people.

You’d never been good at relationships. In fact, your current relationship had been eerily long. Usually, something would’ve happened by now. You would’ve walked in on him cheating, or you would’ve woken up to all of his stuff gone. But that hadn’t happened yet.

So maybe it was love, you told yourself. Maybe he was the love of your life and you were ready to get married.

After all, 5 years is a crazy long time, right?

Far too long to stay with a man you didn’t love……right?

What had you gotten yourself into?

Within the week, your now fiance had booked a flight out to his home city, leaving you behind with a long wedding to-do list.

On the positive side, after your initial dread spiral, you were feeling much better. You reminded yourself that everything happened for a reason and that there was no reason that your marriage couldn’t be any less fulfilling than the last five years had been.

You reminded yourself that your partner had stuck with you for five years, that kind of stuff doesn’t just happen to people who aren’t ready for marriage.

Anyways, you felt much better….. Happy even.

Your parents definitely could’ve taken the news of you marrying an older man…… better….. But at the end of the day, they admitted that as long as you were happy… they were too.

In all honesty, you think that they were mostly just relieved that you found someone to marry you.

Your family would never say it out loud, but you often thought that none of them believed you would ever find someone to be with. Deep down you felt like your parents always betted on your siblings for things like inlaws and grandchildren.

And you couldn’t blame them necessarily. You weren’t the conventional definition of beauty (a fact that all of your exes had brought to your attention sooner or later) and you definitely didn’t have low standards.

This meant that you forever lived in a limbo of never being “good enough” or “pretty enough” but never being willing to settle. So where did that leave you?

Alone.

Alone until you found your fiance.

To be honest, it was rough at first. He was this bigshot investor that was only slightly younger than your father and for some reason, he’d taken an interest in you, his (used to be) intern.

At first, you ignored the attention, young and uncomfortable with the idea that an older man could find you desirable. In your field, you were used to all of the finance bros, who wanted you in the bedroom but never in public.

But slowly, as he managed to worm his way into your daily schedule, you found yourself warming up to him. He’d walk past your desk each day, sometimes leaving you a coffee with a little winking face drawn on the side, sometimes he would smooze as you took the elevator with him, but most of the time it was him just making small comments along the lines of “you take care of me so well,” or “I’m lucky to have you looking out for me” which slowly transitioned into “i love the way you take care of me” and “am I lucky enough to take you to dinner”

Before you knew it, five years had passed. And while you’d technically never defined your relationship in words, or moved in with each other, or even met each other's families, you still thought of yourselves as dating…. well……engaged now.

You looked down at the to-do list that sat on the cafe table. Most of it was fairly straightforward, arrange the flowers, get the caterer, cake-tasting, wine-tasting, the list went on.

The one bullet point on the list that definitely wasn’t straightforward was the last one.

Invite Matsukawa

Apparently, your beloved fiance had an estranged brother. A younger brother whom he hadn’t spoken to for the last 10 years.

An estranged brother that you were in charge of tracking down and inviting to your wedding.

What could possibly go wrong?

He was a fucking mortician.

That's what could go wrong.

Your fiance had given you a little bit of background on his brother, and from the sounds of it, he seemed to be a fairly normal person. But come on…. How many normal people were morticians?

But nevertheless, you had told your fiance that you would do it. You would do it so that he could reunite with his brother and restore their relationship. Would it be a little weird for you? Yes. But it seemed that recently you’d been kicked out of your comfort zone, and apparently weren’t allowed back in.

So you’d looked up the address to the funeral home Matsukawa worked at, and decided that your goal for the day was to somehow convince him to come to his brother’s wedding.

Now all you had to do was work up the nerve to go in and actually talk to him.

You glanced out of the cafe’s window at the funeral home.

It’s not like it was overwhelmingly off-putting. It looked crisp and clean, a great place to bring your recently lost loved one……. But that didn’t mean it didn’t still give you the heebie-jeebies.

You looked back down at your coffee. There was probably only a sip or two left, which meant that you could no longer put this off.

Hesitantly, you left the coffee shop, holding your almost empty coffee cup as a shield of sorts as you approached the front doors of the funeral home.

You opened the doors.

It was quiet.

As to be expected.

You walked up to the empty reception desk, inspecting it for some kind of bell or button to alert someone of your arrival, but much to your dismay there was no such thing.

You looked around you, there wasn’t much to see in the lobby area, an expensive-looking rug, a nice velvet-covered loveseat, and a couple of potted plants…. Other than that there really wasn’t-

“-Fucking christ!” you gasped, jumping at the sight of a man's disembodied head peering through an open cut out in the wall.

You clutched your chest, trying to recover as he simply watched you, not even bothering to move. All the man did was grin at you, having the audacity to chuckle at your display of fright.

“Shit…” you breathed, turning your back to the man while trying to regain the quickly diminishing confidence that you had, you know, the confidence that was barely there to begin with.

A couple of deep breaths later, you decided that you felt stable enough to face the mystery man again. Now that the initial surprise/fear had passed, only dread and a smidge of anger remained.

Like, who the fuck would do that?? For all they know, you were a prospecting customer who’d just lost a loved one and you were greeted with the harrowing sight of a man’s head in a window.

You turned around, not sure if you should demand an apology, or issue one, when you were greeted with the sight of perhaps the prettiest man you’d ever seen.

Yes, he was the same weird man that had literally just pretended to be a severed head, but hey… first impressions were rough.

You opened your mouth to speak, still unsure of what to say, but thankfully, he spoke first.

“Sorry about that, it’s never gone over well and yet I keep trying.”

Wow his voice was deep, but not deep like ‘trying to be deep’ or even like ‘just woke up deep’ it was just… deep.

It was nice.

You were engaged.

Why was that so hard to remember?

You let out a small laugh before clearing your throat.

“Well, it was… interesting, I’ll give you that.”

He gave you another lopsided grin, but said nothing, forcing you to try and remember why you walked into the building in the first place.

Fiance’s brother. Right.

“Anyways, I’m here today because I’m looking for Maksukawa, is he working today?”

“Is something wrong” he asked, a much more acceptable mask of professionalism slipping over his features. You shifted from heel to heel, wondering if you should really tell this man about your fiance’s private family life.

“Nope, just here to talk with him.” you settled on that. Surely you wouldn't be asked for more.

“How do you know him?”

Of fucking course you’d be asked for more. Because having things go your way is just too much to ask.

“Oh, I’m just his brother’s fiance.” you said, trying to keep your voice light and unworried.

But as soon as you said it, the man’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw (which was gorgeously sharp) became set.

And while that reaction was a little weird, and definitely raised a little suspicion, you decided to ignore it and press forward.

“You see, I’m here to invite him to the wedding on behalf of my fiance.” You took a step closer to the desk that the man had retreated behind as you said it, trying your best to keep your shoulders squared and the pep in your step.

“He’s not interested.” the man, who had been nothing if not good-natured up till now, turned away, affirming your suspicions.

“You’re Matsukawa aren’t you?”

He ignored you and instead turned to head back through a set of swinging doors behind him, leaving you slack jawed and speechless.

Your partner had warned you of his brother’s standoffishness, but when you’d asked about why they hadn’t talked in 10 years, you received no clear answer. But judging by the way Matsukawa just left you in the dust, something big must’ve happened.

Nevertheless, you weren’t one to step down from a fight, no matter how scared or uncomfortable you were, so you followed him through the back doors into a little room with lockers lining the wall.

“I’m right, right? You’re Matsukawa?”

His back was facing you as he closed the door to his locker, his shoulders were definitely tensed but not nearly as much as one would expect considering the fact you were definitely not allowed back here, a rule which you rudely defied.

“My friends call me Issei.”

“Okay Issei, I’m here to-”

He turned towards you, his eyes flicking over your body once, before cutting you off.

“I said my friends, not some kid who's marrying my bastard brother.”

Once again, your jaw dropped. What the fuck was it about these brothers making you at a complete loss for words?

“Excuse me?”

Seriously, did their mother not raise them properly?

Their mother. That’s why you were there. Their mother is dying and her dying wish was for her son to be married.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing before you lost your nerve.

“Listen, I’m just here to invite you to the wedding. I’m not sure what went down between you and your brother, but I do know that he wants you at our wedding. Anyways, he’s family and family forgives each other, so please just take this.”

You held out the RSVP invitation to Issei, you set your jaw firmly and squared yourself in front of him, showing him that you wouldn’t tuck your tail and run.

He looked you up and down again. You tried not to focus on how his gaze made your stomach flip and your ears burn.

“How old are you?” He asked, his eyes landing on the invitation pinched between your prettily manicured fingers.

“Does it matter?”

Issei’s eyes traveled up your wrist to your arm, then shoulder, then neck, before finally landing on your face. He grinned at the look on your face, because while it was clear you were trying to keep a fire in your eyes, you were just about as intimidating as a puppy.

“It does.”

“Can I ask why?”

Issei took a step forward, narrowing the distance between the two of you until there was only a couple of inches.

“Because I know how old my brother is, and I wanna know why a girl who was in diapers when he was joining a frat is standing in front of me, saying she’s his fiance.”

Your eyes, which had been locked on his, standing your ground, flicked to the ground.

“So what is it, the money? The house? Did he accidentally knock you up? Let me guess, he’s your boss and you just wanted to stay his favorite, you didn’t even mean to get that drunk at the company party. Is that it? Or did you-”

Before you knew what was happening, you’d already reached your hand between the two of you and slapped Issei across the face.

For the first time since you’d met him, that stupid grin was gone, and in its place a look of surprise. You spoke before he could.

“Listen here,” you said in a low tone, trying to keep your voice from shaking due to the adrenaline flooding through your body,

“You don’t know me. You’ve never met me, never talked to me, and you sure as hell have never gotten close enough for me to disclose jack shit to you, much less how I met and got involved with your brother. I get that you guys don’t like each other, but that is no fucking reason to get pissy with me. In fact, how dare you talk about me like that? It doesn’t matter if your brother wronged you a thousand times over, you have no right to talk to me in that disgusting manner.”

You stopped to take a breath, closing your eyes so that you wouldn’t see Issei and chicken out of your speech.

“Now. I’m leaving, and I’m leaving you with the invitation to this stupid fucking wedding. You can come or not, I don’t care. Goodbye.”

Before he could respond you turned on your heel and fled back through the set of double doors, back into the safety of the main lobby. Once you were on the street again, you let yourself slow down, releasing the breath you’d been subconsciously holding.

You couldn’t believe that you’d done that, it was almost like you’d blacked out. You really couldn't even remember what you’d said. Oh god, hopefully you didn’t say anything too rash.

Even if Issei deserved it, he was your partner’s brother…..

….maybe you were too harsh.

You scolded yourself as you walked down the street, trying as best as you could not to look like a crazy person, muttering to yourself as you made your way back to your apartment.

The guilt and worry of what you’d said and how you’d behaved was eating at you. Did Issei deserve to be slapped? Yes! 100 fucking percent he deserved it.

But still….

If he hated his brother before you’d done that, he most definitely hated him even more now.

Maybe, you thought as you laid down to sleep, you could try and go by the funeral home tomorrow to smooth things over.

Maybe you could use the stress of the wedding as an excuse to why you’d slapped him, yeah…that was a good idea.

…or at least the best idea you had.

And while you tossed and turned with guilt over slapping your fiance's younger, very good-looking brother, Issei was in a similar boat.

Well… kind of.

He didn’t necessarily feel guilty over how he treated you. He was just being honest, there was no way in hell he’d attend his lousy brother’s wedding, that bastard could apologize a thousand times over for what he’d done and Issei still wouldn’t forgive him.

No, what he did feel guilty about though is the fact that he pretty much blew any chance he had of seeing you again.

If Issei was a better person he’d feel guilty about his feelings for you, fortunately he never claimed to be one.

He’d given up on sleeping hours ago, the only thing that closing his eyes got him was visions of you. The look on your face when you scolded him, the sting that your palm had left against his jaw.

And christ your body….

If Issei had believed in God, you were definitely her.

He could drown in you if you’d only let him.

So without any other way to soothe himself or fall asleep, he drank. A little too much if he’s being honest. So much that he didn’t even care when his neighbors slammed on his walls to tell him to turn his records down.

He preferred to sulk this way. That was what he was doing, sulking over a beautiful woman that he’d never see again, over a woman who was going to marry his brother, his enemy.

And as the night went on, the bottle of booze in his hand emptied further, until he nearly saw double as he worked on anything to distract himself from thoughts of you.

Perhaps when he said you were God he meant the opposite, God could never plague him like you were. You were a devil, a devil committed to his devil brother…. The thought made him feel a little better. Not much of course.

He eventually called into work, leaving some half-ass excuse on their answering machine as to why he wouldn’t be coming in that day, before dragging himself to bed. He was drunk enough to sleep, but not drunk enough to escape dreams of you.

The next morning, bright and early, you stood outside of the funeral home with two fresh coffees in hand and an optimistic smile on your face. Today was the day that you would convince Issei to come to the wedding if it was the last thing you did.

To be honest, you were completely ready to give up and tell your fiance that his brother had died some terrible death within the last 10 years, but as soon as you’d heard his voice over the phone, asking if you’d been able to convince Issei yet, you chickened out of it.

You didn’t know if you were just feeling extra sentimental or if it was your fiance whining about how now that his mother is dying, family is the most important thing, but you now stood on the sidewalk in front of Issei’s workplace with a renewed vigor and immovable stubbornness.

You walked into the building, scanning the lobby, making sure that Issei wasn’t pretending to be a floating head again.

You frowned at the sight of an empty lobby, walking slowly up to the desk as if you were expecting the gorgeous mortician to jump out at you at any moment.

“Hello?” you called out, trying to crane your neck to look through the small windows of the double set of doors that you’d been through yesterday.

“Hi there!” you heard a new voice come from a different direction.

When you turned your head, you were slightly disappointed to find an unfamiliar young woman, dressed in black, smiling as she walked behind the desk to help you.

“Hello,” you replied, trying to hide your disappointment with a small smile, “I’m looking for Matsukawa, is he here?”

“He actually called in sick today, I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders must’ve sagged a little because the woman looked at you curiously, her eyebrow raising.

“Can I ask why you’re asking for him?”

“Oh it’s nothing,” you sighed, “I’m just engaged to his brother and I’m supposed to convince him to come to the wedding. We got off on the wrong foot yesterday so I thought I’d swing by today and try again.”

The look of shock on the woman’s face was enough to make you straighten your back and hold your coffee a little closer to your body. She must’ve noticed your discomfort as she quickly apologized.

“Sorry, I just totally didn’t expect that to be the reason…. I feel really bad telling you this, but I don’t think you should waste any time on that. Issei hates his brother.”

So Issei’s coworker knows what happened but you don’t? Was your fiance trying to set you up for failure???

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

A look came over the woman’s face, that look that says ‘I’m not supposed to be talking about this, but I absolutely LOVE talking about it’. She leaned over the counter, gesturing you to lean in closer.

“Ten years ago, Issei was engaged to this woman, beautiful girl, a real pretty lady, they’d met in school and decided to get married young so they could start having kids. So one day, Issei gets off work a little early, so he decides to surprise her at her place, and what does he find when he gets there? His brother, buck-naked in her bed.”

“No!” you gasped, horrified at the image of your fiance home-wrecking his brother.

“Yes! So Issei’s pissed right? Screaming and throwing shit everywhere, his fiance’s crying, the neighbors are yelling, and what does his brother do?”

The look of suspense on your face was prominent enough to make the woman behind the desk grin as she paused in dramatic effect.

“He tells Issei that it’s been going on for months and that they’re running off together.”

“What?” you scoff, leaning back away from the woman in awe.

You couldn’t believe what you’d heard. Is that really the kind of man you were about to marry?

“Worst part about it, is that since Issei’s so much younger than his brother, the girl wasn’t any older than 20 while Issei’s brother was nearly thirty six!”

“So what happened?” You asked, feeling slightly faint at the overwhelming amount of information you’d received.

“Nothing, Issei was heart broken, his brother ran off with his girl and there was nothing he could do about it. That’s why they haven't talked in 10 years. And from the sound of it, the whole family took the brother’s side so now Issei doesn't talk to them either.”

You wondered if you looked like a gaping fish at the moment as you grappled with yourself, trying to find words to say. You couldn't believe that your fiance could do something so heinous.

He stole the love of his brother’s life, and obviously it never went further than an affair because he’d never even mentioned his ex to you.

Of course, now that you thought about it, he didn’t mention much of anything to you.

The woman must’ve seen the turmoil on your face and taken pity on you because she reached under the desk and pulled a sticky pad and pen out and started jotting things down.

“Anyways, I’m just gonna give you his address, it’s not too far from here. Swing by if you're brave enough, but now that you know the history, you can’t blame him if he doesn’t wanna talk to you.”

You nodded and thanked her as she handed you the sticky note.

“Now that I know, the only thing I feel is guilty about how I treated him yesterday.” you looked up at the woman, offering a grateful smile “thank you for telling me.”

She waved you off as you began leaving the lobby, “Don’t mention it, I hope everything works out the way it should!”

With one last thank you, you left the funeral home and started off down the street towards Issei’s apartment. With the newfound knowledge of the brother’s history you now realized that asking Issei to come to the wedding was like asking him to reopen old wounds.

And hell, with what you just found out you weren’t sure you wanted to marry this guy anymore. You know what they say, once a cheater, always a cheater. Could you really trust that he hadn’t done the exact same to you in the last five years?

Anyways, the very least you could do now was apologize to Issei and hope that the two of you could treat this like water under the bridge.

So that’s where you’d gotten to where you were. Sitting at his kitchen table as you watched him nurse his hangover with the coffee you brought him and a plate of breakfast that you’d cooked for him.

You watched as he poked at the eggs with his fork.

“Sorry, I didn’t know how you liked them.” you apologized, your voice coming out much squeakier than indentinded. But based on the fact that you were sitting across from perhaps the most gorgeous man you’d ever met who still had bed head and was only sporting a loose fitting pair of black sweatpants, you’d say you were doing pretty good at keeping your voice calm.

“No, they’re good… thank you..” Issei muttered, keeping his eyes on his plate. He couldn’t look up at you right now.

The first thing he’d woken up to this morning was you knocking on his door, and normally that wouldn't have been so bad. In fact, he could think of few things better than the sight of a pretty girl waiting for him on his doorstep. The only reason he didn’t enjoy your early morning visit was because it gave him no time to take care of his raging morning wood, which was significantly worse than usual thanks to you being the star of his dreams the night before.

He glanced up from his plate, trying to sneak a glance at you as you concerned yourself with the view from his kitchen window.

You were even more stunning in the morning light, the sun outlining the soft curve of your chin as you smiled at the city's skyline.

He looked back down at his breakfast, not nearly as appetizing as the sight sitting across from him.

“Anyways,” you said, breaking the silence as you watched him near the end of his breakfast, clearing the plate of the last slice of toast. “I wanted to come by and apologize for how I acted yesterday, I was-”

Before you could even finish the apology, he held a hand up to stop you.

“Don’t even mention it, I was out of line.”

You frowned as he got up to put his plate in the sink behind him.

“Okay….” you said, unsure of how to approach the next topic, “well, I also wanted to talk to you about the wedding,”

As soon as the word ‘wedding’ came out of your mouth you saw his (very nicely built) back tense. So you rushed to finish the sentence as fast as you could to prevent him from completely shutting you out.

“But-more-importantly-I-wanted-to-apologize-for-what-your-brother-did-to-you…”

“What?”

You saw the tick in his jaw and the stern look on his face as he turned towards you. You couldn't help but shrink in on yourself a little, this was the first time you’d seen him as anything but aloof, and to say it was… intimidating… was an understatement.

Hot?.... Yes definitely… but also very intimidating.

“Why would you apologize for that?”

It was a fair question, especially considering that you were also starting to have the sneaking suspicion that you were a victim of infidelity as well. Just because you never caught it, doesn’t mean it never happened.

“I just-”

“-You know what,” he cut you off, holding a palm up to you, “why don’t you let me get cleaned up a little and then I can take you somewhere a little nicer to talk about this.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your face start to heat up at the idea of “going somewhere” to “talk” with this man.

You dreaded what he meant by ‘clean up’, the idea that he’d be showering with only a door or a room, at most, between you was making you ashamedly wet.

You could only pray that Issei didn’t notice the way you unconsciously squirmed in your seat.

And lucky for you, he didn’t. He was far too busy trying to figure out how to get himself to his bathroom without you noticing the sizable tent he could feel beginning to pitch. The only thing helping calm him down from being in the same room as you was the painful reminder that you were his brother’s fiance, along with the mention of what his brother had done to him 10 years ago.

“Okay. I’ll just wait here” you said, nodding as you focused your gaze on your lap, desperately trying to hide your look of embarrassment from Issei as he walked past you to his bedroom.

He closed the door with some kind of ‘make yourself at home’ comment, but once again, you were too preoccupied with your own arousal and ergo embarrassment to reply.

It was only when you’d calmed down a bit did you get up and explore the living room of his apartment. You were surprised to find it littered with not only human anatomy books and atlases (which was to be expected considering his career) but also with books filled with art, and even sketchbooks filled with what you assumed to be his own drawings.

In fact, now that you were looking closer, you could tell that Issei was something of an artist as well, the biggest hint being an easel and half-painted canvas in the corner of the room.

You couldn't help yourself, and went to inspect the work. When you got closer you could see the faint sketch lines on the canvas, and when you looked up from the painting to the window that it faced you saw the pieces of paper taped to the window, references for the painting.

You wanted to say that the painting of the woman was embarrassing. You wanted to say that the sketches of her nude body were scandalous, but you couldn't help but fixate on the beauty of Issei’s work.

The drawings made you feel warm inside, they made you feel seen.

If you squinted, the woman in the drawings almost looked like what you saw when you looked in the mirror. Of course you’d never seen anyone like yourself depicted in any art, so the feeling was definitely new but for some reason, you couldn't stop the warmth that started in your chest from traveling down to rest between your thighs.

And the more you looked at the drawings, the worse it got, as you noticed more sketches, some having the plus size woman drawn in different lewd poses, her curves almost highlighted due to the morning light coming through the paper.

You got so lost in the art that it almost felt like you were the woman in the drawings and that you could feel Issei watching you… memorizing your shape so that he could sketch you.

Your whole body was on fire as your fingers brushed against the papers on the window, tracing the figures outlines with one hand while gliding across your own outline with the other.

Normally you wouldn’t be caught dead acting like this, but it was like Issei’s work had you in a trance. The art mixed with the idea that there was a wet and very naked Issei less than 20 feet away from you had gone straight to your head, almost making you dizzy.

You didn’t know how long you’d been looking at the sketches, and you definitely hadn’t known that Issei had walked out of his bedroom to find you staring at his work a couple of minutes ago.

He knew that he should’ve at least tried to hide all of the shameless drawings of you, for god’s sake he’d only met you for 10 minutes yesterday. But you had haunted him, the only way he was able to sleep last night was after drawing you in all of the poses he longed to see you in.

So he stood silently in the doorway, watching as you traced his work, did you not realize it was you that he had drawn? Unless you were some sort of exhibitionist, you’d never be okay with some strange man you’d just met drawing you, much less drawing you as a nude model.

He let it go on for another minute or two, he wanted to let himself memorize your body again, he didn't know if he’d ever have another chance to see you and he’d be damned if he let his painting go unfinished. But even as he watched you, committing your shape to memory, he couldn’t help the nagging desire to touch you, he told himself that he wanted to feel you because it’d make his art better, he told himself there was no other motive.

He watched you finally move to the painting, watching you, he feared that if he let you continue you’d recognize yourself seeing as the painting held more color and detail.

“What do you think of it?” He asked, making you gasp as you jumped and whirled around to face him.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop!” your eyes were wide and panicked, and yet he didn’t see any hint of recognition in them, hopefully meaning you still were unaware that you were the art’s model.

“Don’t apologize…. But please… I want to know what you think.”

You shyly turned back towards the canvas, not brave enough to compliment him to his face.

“It’s beautiful… you’re really good.” you breathed, the heat almost unbearable now that he was in the room.

“Only as good as my model.” he chuckled.

“Well she’s beautiful.” you complimented.

You were ashamed to admit the twinge of jealousy you felt towards the model. You had to remember that you were engaged…. Well at least for now….. in a week…. who knows?

“I think so too.” Issei mumbled from behind you, you could hear him moving but you still didn’t have the courage to turn back around.

You’d hoped that Issei couldn’t detect your arousal, but, of course, he could. What kind of artist would he be if he couldn’t observe? How else would he have looked at you close enough to paint you after just one meeting?

That said, Issei was more than pleased to know that you wanted him just as urgently as he needed you. He wondered if you’d lost sleep over it like him. Even at the risk of sounding naive or rash he wanted to ask you if you’d thought of him last night, as you walked home alone, as you slipped on your night clothes, as you drifted off to sleep.

He felt like a love-sick puppy, a feeling he hadn’t let himself feel ever since the love of his life walked out on him. Of course, with you standing in front of him who knows if she’s truly been his soulmate. If she had been his soulmate then why did you make him feel like this?

“Do you-” the words died on your tongue as you turned to find Issei directly behind you. The two of you were now close enough for him to see the way your breath caught in your chest.

You knew you should’ve stepped back, even risked knocking over the painting to get away, but it felt like your feet were superglued to the floor. You could hear Issei’s heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at you, staring into your eyes as you couldn’t help but stare back.

“Don’t you recognize her?” he whispered, his eyes darting down to your lips.

“I’m sorry?”

Your voice was barely audible, but at least it wasn’t shaking as Issei rested his hands on our shoulders and guided you to turn back towards the painting.

“Isn’t she familiar?”

His lips were right next to your right ear now, his breath warm as it tickled your jaw.

You stayed silent as you tried to focus on the artwork, somewhere deep inside, you knew exactly where this was going, but you had no power to stop it. You didn’t even think you wanted to.

“I don’t know” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt Issei’s palms travel down your sides to rest on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly.

“Look again.” he urged, placing his teeth over your pulse, scraping the skin as he started to massage your hips.

You forced your eyes open, your vision feeling unfocused as you tried to search for familiarity in the lines. It was only when Issei turned your body away from the painting, causing your eyes to drift to the full length mirror propped against a bookshelf, that you gasped in realization.

It was you.

And holy shit was that hot.

You felt Issei grin against your skin, that grin you’d seen him constantly sporting since he’d met you, and you couldn’t stop the quiet whine from leaving your chest.

You pressed yourself back into him, feeling him pressed against the curve of your ass, making him groan.

“Fuck…” he hissed, his hips jerked at the unexpected pressure, making you giggle in response.

He backed away from you, grinning to himself when you spun around, your lips downturned in disappointment.

“Come with me to bed.” He said, taking your hand in his.

You raised your eyebrow at him, a small smile coming over your face.

This morning was all the push you’d needed to break things off with his brother. You had definitely made up your mind to that. Plus…. even if Issei wasn’t looking for revenge against his brother… you were.

But still… that didn’t mean you didn’t want Issei to work for it.

“Hmm… why should I?” you teased, following his lead as he backed into his bedroom.

The grin never dropped from his face, if anything it got more confident. He knew he had you in the palm of your hand, but he also knew that you had him in the palm of yours.

“You really gonna make me beg for it sweetheart?” he asked, pulling you against him and switching your places. You bit your lip as you felt the bed pressing up against the backs of your legs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down till his face was level with yours.

“You would look good on your knees.” you whispered, your lips brushing his.

You felt him twitch against your hip as he cursed under his breath, looking away from your eyes.

Issei knew he needed to pace himself, if you kept teasing him like that this would be over before it started and he definitely couldn’t have that happening.

“Wait, what’re you- hey!” you gasped as Issei pushed you back to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” you asked as you cautiously watched him lower himself to his knees, his hands spreading your legs to let him kneel between your thighs.

“I thought you wanted me to beg…” he teased, laying his cheek against the inside of one of your spread thighs as he looked up at you.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your brain was short wiring at the sight of the dark haired man kneeling between your legs, his hands were so big, his fingers gripping your calves, coaxing you to spread your legs further for him.

You said nothing as you tangled your fingers through his hair, pulling softly to force his gaze up to yours.

His face was red and his pupils blown out, the sight was so erotic you thought you’d cum on the spot. You didn’t know anyone could ever find you this attractive, but as he let out a quiet whine, staring at you through half-lidded eyes, you realized a scary thought.

The thought that this man might want you even more than you wanted him.

“please…” he mumbled, pressing his head into your hand, willing you to guide him where he so desperately wanted to be. “...wanna taste you…”

You felt like you’d taken a nine-iron to the chest. But god did you feel powerful.

You tightened your grip on his hair, as you felt him work off your pants, pulling your soaked panties off with them, biting his lip at the feeling of the damp spot in the center of them.

“You’re so pretty….” you sighed, letting him go to rake your fingers over his scalp, “You wanna eat me out?”

He nodded, his tongue wetting his lips as he practically drooled over the sight of your bare cunt.

He wanted to paint you like this, spread out for him like a fucking masterpiece. But that would have to wait.

He could feel his head weeping against the front of his sweatpants, he’d (thankfully) gone commando in hopes of being where he was now, unfortunately that meant the feeling of the fleece lining was unbearable as he tried to ignore it, focusing on your pleasure first.

Without another word, you laced your fingers back through his hair and pushed his head down between your legs, gasping as you felt his lips quickly attach to your clit, wrapping around it and sucking, making your thighs snap shut around his head.

“fuck….” you gasped, obviously not expecting that overwhelming intensity right out of the gate.

Issei just moaned into you, bucking his hips at the feeling of your thighs pressed against his ears, he ran his hands up your legs to your stomach, guiding you to lay down on your back before hiking your knees over his shoulders.

And despite your position above him, you were completely powerless to his touch, leaning when he told you to, hesitantly opening your legs back up to allow him greater access.

When Issei felt your thighs loosen around his head he nearly cried, but he would have your legs wrapped around his head again, for now he needed to bring you to orgasm as fast as possible.

He pushed you further back onto the bed, helping you lay on your back as he repositioned himself between your legs, his hips pressing his hardened cock into the bedsheets.

His lips pressed to the insides of your thighs, sucking bruises into the skin as your fingers grasped at the sheets behind you.

“You’re so pretty” he muttered into your skin, looking up at you in awe as your chest heaved.

You doubt that you looked any kind of attractive right now, and yet Issei stared up at you like a sinner to a priestess.

“Please…” you gasped, your back arching away from the bed.

“Shhhh… I know…” he whispered, his mouth traveling back to your core, his tongue dipping between your folds, making you practically cry for more.

Issei’s brows were knit together, all of his being focused on not cumming in his pants from your taste. He wanted more…. he needed more.

“please…” he whimpered “...can I use my fingers?”

“N-mhm- yes..yes-please….” you gasped, crying out because as soon as you said it two of his fingers bullied their way into your pussy.

You cried from the burn of it, which melted into moans as his lips soothed your clit while his fingers curled inside of you.

It was gentle at first, he settled on warming you up to his fingers, gently pulling and pushing them in and out of you, kissing your clit with each plea or whine.

But as soon as he felt you relax, it started. He began with just sissoring his fingers inside of you, wanting to stretch you out for his cock before you came.

But as soon as you whimpered the words “..’m close Issei..” he abandoned all patience, pressing his fingers into your g-spot as he scraped his teeth against your clit, making you cry out.

You tried to close your legs around his head again, but he caught one of your thighs with his free hand and pressed it back down against the bed, forcing you to stay open for him.

You tossed your head against the sheets, whining how good it was as Issei buried his fingers into you again and again, pushing at your g-spot until you felt you high coming towards you like a freight train.

“Fuck…-gonna cum…Issei, ‘m gonna cum…”

“Shit..” Issei moaned against your clit, making you jerk against his face, your stomach clenching at the vibrations it sends through your body.

“come on, Sweetheart…. I want you to cum from my fingers…..please…”

Issei leaned back to watch your face as you came, feeling his cock twitch desperately in his pants at the sight of you gasping for air as your legs twitched beside his head.

You couldn’t form a single thought as you felt the wave of your orgasm wash over you, making your mind fuzzy as tears threatened to fall down your face.

Issei worked you through your orgasm, whispering praise against your thighs as he pressed his thumbs into your hips, massaging his fingers into the curve of your ass.

Eventually he worked his way back up your body until his chest covered yours and his hips ground against your thigh, reminding you that this was very much, not over.

Issei could look at you forever. If he thought you were beautiful before, you were absolutely breathtaking now, basking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

God he needed you. He was convinced he’d need you for the rest of his life.

Still breathless from your high, you hooked a hand around the back of Issei’s neck and pulled him towards you, catching his lips in yours.

He moaned as your fingers pressed into his nape, encouraging him to deepen the kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He could feel his brain getting fuzzier by the second, he wanted to cum.

bad.

And you could tell with the way he tried to angle his hips away from you, trying to create the least amount of friction against himself as possible.

It was almost cute in a way, it’d been a while since someone needed you this badly, like a hormonal teenager. The only reason it wasn’t cute was because you needed him just as badly. You were ready for him now, your core twitching at the thought of it.

Before Issei knew what had happened, you flipped the two of you around, pinning him to the mattress as your ass rested dangerously snug against his clothed cock.

“Wai-” he started but you cut him off, pressing one of your perfectly manicured nails to his lips.

“It's my turn to have fun.” you said, offering a playful wink before crawling back down the bed to come face to face with his erection.

You could tell that it was painful by now, the only thing preventing it from standing to its full potential was his sweatpants.

Issei thanked god they were black, he’d leaked so much pre by now it probably looked like he already lost it.

Not that you would’ve minded, in fact you were face to face with his tent wishing the pants were gray for that exact reason.

You decided not to be cruel and pulled his pants down, trying (and failing) to hide your surprise when he finally sprang free.

“Fuck…” Issei gasped above you, his fingers gripping his bedsheets, trying not to cum from the look in your eyes.

“You’re so pretty Issei…” you swooned, he winced as your fingers wrapped around him, making you giggle. “Such a pretty boy…” you gave an experimental tug, biting your lip when his hips jumped off of the bed and a whimper slipped out of him.

“Do you want me to help you feel good, pretty?”

Issei could feel his face burn in humiliation as he nodded feverishly, he couldn’t help it, he’d do whatever you told him to no matter how embarrassing, for you, he’d do it.

You moaned as you took him into your mouth, your hand using his precum to stroke what couldn’t fit.

“Fuck…” Issei whined, his hips twitching out of his control with the way you worked him.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, and you only made it worse as you came off of him, only to turn your focus downwards, wrapping your tongue around his balls, taking them into your mouth.

“Shit… wai-fuck…”

You went back to his head, swiping your tongue across the slit, flicking your wrist as you stroked him closer to his high. You knew that he was close by the way his knuckles were white, gripping the sheets as he gasped and panted above you, begging you to slow down.

He really did look so pretty like this, biting his bottom lip while he tried not to cum too soon. It suited him much better than that stupid fucking smirk he always had on.

“Come on Issei…” you coaxed, your hand quickening its pace as his breathing grew even more ragged, “show me how good you feel…”

Issei made the mistake of peering down at your face, you were staring at him through your lashes, biting your lip as you grinned. That’s what made him lose it, the sight of you making him grunt and shake as he released, whimpering as you made a show of catching it on your tongue.

“What a good boy…” you praised, licking up anything that managed to land on his pelvis, enjoying the feeling of his hips shaking beneath your taste buds.

“It’s too bad though…” you said, sticking your bottom lip out in a fake pout as you sat back on your knees watching as Issei’s head raised off the bed to look at you, “‘cause I’m not tired yet.”

You giggled as Issei’s head dropped back down with a groan, he obviously knew where this was going.

You crawled back over him, positioning your hips over his, stroking him, trying to get him hard again.

“Wait” he pleaded, 2 minutes, that’s all he needed and then he could do it again, he just needed two minutes.

You decided to be nice and settled on just grinding against him.

“you’re no fun.” you mumbled, leaning down to leave your own bite marks, something you didn’t doubt he’d done to you already.

You settled on his chest, admiring how soft his skin was, you bit into it, surprised at how hard the muscle was below.

Yes, you knew that he was really fucking built when you saw him in just his sweatpants, you even knew he was built when you saw just how broad his shoulders looked in his nicely tailored work suit, but you were surprised just how strong he felt under your fingertips.

Maybe it was the fact he’d let you take control this whole time that made you for some reason think that he couldn't pin you down if he wanted to, but now you knew, he definitely could.

And god was that a tempting image.

Knowing that he could easily overpower you, could easily force your face into the mattress as he fucked you, but chose to listen to you so nicely was so fucking attractive.

You felt yourself tighten around nothing, keening as your clit caught against the head of his cock when you rubbed yourself against him.

“So good…” you moaned, resting your forehead against his chest, grinding down on his cock.

Issei decided he’d had enough, he was ready whether his dick was hard again or not. Which it was. How could it not be with you on top of him? He could feel your arousal, it made it almost impossible not to just slip his cock into you.

“Please….” he breathed, “...fuck please….”

You giggled from your place above him, leaning back to where you sat against his hips, comfortably sat with him wedged between your thighs.

“Come on Issei….how should I know what you want me to do?….”

Issei just whined beneath you, his body practically shaking under your touch. You brought your hands up to rest on his chest rather than the sheets on either side of his head.

“Please…..” he gasped again, his toes curling into the sheets when your prettily manicured nails circled his nipples.

You just grinned, dragging your hands up his neck, circling to his nape to hold his head, forcing him to look into your half-lidded eyes.

You leaned down towards him, grinding down onto him as you placed pecks on his face, starting from the edge of his lips… then to the arch of his nose… and finally up across his jaw, landing next to his left ear.

“What honey….” you cooed, loving the way you could feel his chest heaving beneath yours as you pressed your tits to him, as if his brain had melted already.

Issei whined, pressing his eyes closed, trying not to cum like a fucking loser before he even had the chance to be inside of you.

“.... you want some pussy, Baby?...”

“Oh fuck…. Please-please-please…. want it so bad…” Issei whimpered, his fingers leaving the sheets to grip the fat of your hips, undoubtedly hard enough to bruise.

You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so pathetic.

Without another word, you reached under you, and all in one go grabbed his cock and slid onto it, gasping as you took it to the hilt on the first try.

Issei’s vision went white as he felt you press yourself down onto him, the pulse of your cunt around him making him dizzy, making him whip his head away, trying to hide from you as he let out a choked sob, along with stuttered, breathy ‘thank you’s.

“Fuck baby…” you groaned, reaching back up to cradle issei’s face with your hands, “.....feel you in my fucking throat….”

“..yeah?..... can I move…fuck-please…” Issei pleaded, making you wince with the force that his nails were digging into your hips.

“Fuck…” you dropped your head down, pressing your face into the nook of his neck, trying to stay strong, trying to stay in control as you felt your brain going fuzzy and your tummy turn to jelly. “...yes… please fuck me-ahh-”

You weren’t even able to finish the sentence before Issei’s hips started snapping into you from underneath, the force of his thrusts bouncing you against his chest. You moaned, feeling the air getting repeatedly knocked out of your lungs.

“Shit- slow-slow down Issei…” you winced out, the feeling of him slamming into you so fast was too much too early. If he kept going like this you’d both be done in no time.

“not so much baby…” you said again, trying to catch Issei’s attention after failing the first time, but unfortunately for you he was long gone, the only thing on his mind was pounding into you until you came all over his cock.

Issei couldn’t even hear you as you begged once more for him to slow down, he coudln’t hear anything over the sounds of his own moans and grunts paired with his hard breaths and of course the wet sounds of your cunt as he fucked into you like a fucking rabbit in rut.

He swore to god that there was nothing better than this, than the sound of you moaning above him as he drilled into you, his hands gripping the swell of your ass as you bounced on his cock.

It wasn’t long before you gave up on trying to take it slow, releasing yourself to the pleasure of Issei’s cock pushing at your walls while you cried into his neck, whimpering encouragement into his skin, trying your best to meet his thrusts.

“Oh my goddd….” you gasped after a particularly hard thrust, feeling his tip ram against your cervix when he adjusted you on top of him, bringing his heels up to dig into the mattress to allow him to fuck you even harder.

Your chest was no longer resting against his as the new angle forced you to lean back, barely giving you time to bring your arms behind you to support yourself as he used you.

Issei almost cried at the new position, not only because now he could push into you faster and harder, but because now with every thrust he could watch the way your tits bounced and your eyes rolled back into your head.

He could feel the itch of his orgasm starting in his gut, making him panic at the thought of this ending, at the thought of you getting up and walking out of his life after he scares you away with his intensity. Incidentally, the panic is also what allowed him to finally tune back into his surroundings, tune back into anything other than the feeling of your cunt squeezing him.

“Isseiiiii…” he heard you beg, your voice further ripping him out of his trance, he stilled inside of you, despite every fiber of his being saying not to.

It was only when he stopped that he noticed the way your arms were shaking under you, threatening to give out.

“Fuck…” he said, scrambing to sit up further on the bed, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you into him, allowing your arms to take a much needed break as he pulled your weight properly into his lap. “I’m sorry…” he whispered against your shoulder, “fuck ‘m sorry…. you just feel so good…”

He let you catch your breath, whispering apologies as he sucked more marks into your skin, his hips grinding his pelvis against your clit, making you gasp and keen as his tip rubbed against your g-spot inside of you.

This was almost worse than when he was moving, yeah it felt good, fuck it felt so good that you could barely remember your name, much less the reason you’d wanted him to slow down, but if he continued like this you knew you’d finish for a second time, and while you really wanted to finish, you wanted him to finish inside of you first.

“Issei…” you moaned, leaning away from him to look into his eyes, your cunt tightening around him at the sight of his blown out pupils and red cheeks, making him whine. “Issei let me lay down Baby…”

He nodded aimlessly, his eyes focused only on your tits as you slid off of him, laying down beside him, hoping he’d take the hint to climb over you and continue.

Thankfully he did, or at least got half of the hint. He climbed over you, his forearms framing your face as he resumed grinding himself against you, his cock slick with your arousal as it continued gliding between the folds of your pussy, the tip catching your clit with every stroke, making you both shake against each other.

“...ngh- please baby….” Issei whined against your neck, “...please lemme fuck….”

Your head was thrown back against the sheets, as you moaned out for him, wrapping your arms down and around him, raking your nails against his lower back, making him shiver and whine against you.

“Go ahead baby…” you urged, spreading your legs further for him, “...make me cum”

That was all Issei needed to resume the godless pace he’d set earlier, lining himself up with your hole before hammering you further into the mattress.

You gasped below him, once again feeling him deep enough to wonder if he’d somehow broken your cervix with the power behind his thrusts.

He was drunk on you, whining a repetitive ‘yes, yes, yes’ into your skin before you decidedly to shut him up, gripping his hair and guiding his mouth to one of your nipples.

You both moaned as he latched on, sucking hard enough to make your walls squeeze, practically choking his dick as he continued humping into you like a love-sick puppy. You could feel him twitching inside of you, telling you that he was also close.

“Fuck issei…” you begged, pressing his face closer to your chest, smothering him with your tits as he moaned and jerked into you.

At this point your couldn’t tell who was fucking who, with the way your hips were arching off of the mattress to meet his thrusts, making you both cry as his cock dragged against your insides perfectly.

“Fuck Issei, ‘m close…” you breathed, intentionally squeezing his cock, trying to get him to cum before you fell off that cliff.

He pulled himself off of your chest just long enough to whimper “fuck-me too baby…” before sending whiny vibrations back through your body as he licked and bit at your tits.

“Yeah?” you asked, “you gonna ask me if you can cum inside?”

You felt him jerk inside of you at the thought.

“D’ you wanna cum inside Issei?” you whispered into his ear, biting your lip as he nodded against you, his mouth never leaving your nipple but a pathetic whine coming out of the back of his throat as his thrusts started getting messy and out of sync.

You could both tell that the other was close, and while Issei desperately wanted to make you cum first, you both knew that he wasn’t the one in charge right now.

Issei fucked into you with a continuous stream of ‘please’ coming from his lips between each pant, his thrusts were getting sharper and off beat as he felt his balls starting to pull up, getting ready to shoot his load into you. But he was determined, he wanted to feel you creaming around his cock before he finally filled you.

But of course, you had other plans, your fingers reaching down to dig your nails into his ass cheeks, helping him keep the tempo of his hips slamming into you steady. Your cunt felt so fucking good for him, warm and tight and twitching as your release threatened to rear its head.

It was a silent battle of who’d break first, until you took his earlobe between your teeth and whispered into his ear.

“come on issei, give me your cum…. Please…”

That finally pushed him over the edge, making him cry against your chest as he tried to pull himself out of you to finish, thinking that you were just saying to finish inside to make him cum.

But as soon as you felt him try to pull out, you dug your nails deeper into the skin of his ass, pressing his body flush to yours as you felt the ropes of his cum start filling you up.

“Fuck… oh my god….” Issei gasped against you, his legs jerking and abs flexing against you as he felt you milking him dry.

The feeling of his cum pushed you into your release as well, making you throw your head back, mouth open as a silent moan ripped through you, your back arching as you felt yourself gushing, your mixed release dripping down your ass and Issei’s balls, no doubt soaking into Issei’s sheets.

Even if Issei said something to you right then, you didn’t hear it, it was like you lost all ability to do anything other than stare at the ceiling, feeling the waves of your orgasm rocking through your body.

And Issei honestly wasn’t much better, laying against your chest as his hips twitched in the aftermath, making you whine below him as his softening tip rubbed his cum into your raw walls.

Eventually though, Issei came back to, pushing himself back up onto his forearms to make sure you were ok. He just found you staring at his ceiling, your mind still blank and fucked out.

He brought a hand up, brushing your hair out of your face, kissing from your lips to your forehead, whispering ‘thank you’s’ and ‘you did so good for me’s’ as he gently pulled out and left to get a cloth to clean you up.

Somewhere along the process of Issei dragging the warm cloth across your skin, you remembered to feel self conscious due to the light streaming in through the bedroom window’s blinds.

Issei just tsked at your attempts to cover yourself with your hands, did you miss the last hour? He was fucking obsessed with you. You were fucking perfect to him. Fuck, not just to him, you were just perfect.

“Stop.” he grumbled, pulling your hand away from your stomach and replacing it with his own, gripping the plush of it between his fingers, groaning when you whined and jerked against him.

You just rolled your eyes, obviously it was pointless to argue with the man who’d just sucked your tits and gave you probably the strongest orgasm of your life.

“Whatever” you groaned, trying to push him away from you so you could at least retreat to the bathroom. Another plan, which he gladly spoiled as he latched onto you even tighter, abandoning the washcloth and opting to kiss across your neck, trying to distract you from the thought of leaving.

“Come on….” he whispered into your neck, pulling your body against him, groaning at the softness of it, “come take a shower with me… and then….” he reached down to your tits, tracing their outline again with his fingers.

“And then let me draw you again…”

“What am I gonna tell your brother?” you asked, hoping to kill the mood to at least be able to slip from Issei’s grasp, enough to let you leave both of the brothers’ lives without doing more damage.

But Issei just laughed, still tightening his hold on you, forcing you to stay with him in bed.

“Just tell him the truth”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” you said, side-eyeing Issei, watching him grin down at you with that familiar grin.

“That you’re gonna marry the better brother.”

-------------------------

*blows dust off of microphone*

hope you liked it bestie!!!!! tell me whatcha thought <3 <3<3<3

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuuxreader #haikyuu 18+#haikyuu x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #issei matsukawa x reader #issei smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyu x reader #matsukawa smut

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Note

Solomon isn't just immortal. He's a vampire and we find out by accident. The moment MC sees the fangs and it's like the monster fucker light switch flips on. Wanting to see if it's true we feel pleasure as he feeds and feeling him take us til hes empty and full.

If you knows what I mean 😏😉

➤ temptations | solomon x afab!reader

solomon knows all the secrets you try to keep from him. it's only a matter of time before you learn his secret too.

content: nsfw (18+). afab!Reader (gn!pronouns). vampire au. canon-typical vampire behaviour including biting/blood drinking and possessiveness/jealousy, past killing/murder, minor angst, pining, pet names, teasing, thigh riding, overstimulation. 2.5k+ words.

Vampire!Solomon who hides his true identity from you because you’re overwhelmed adjusting to life in the Devildom. He wants to be your human exchange student friend, someone you can trust and turn to. He swears to the others that he’s no danger to you, and they agree to keep his secret in return.

Vampire!Solomon who offers to cook for you sometimes, and you’re absolutely stunned by how terrible his food is. (It’s too bitter, or too salty, and the meat he serves you is so raw it's inedible.) You accept the food with a grimace because he’s so enthusiastic and sweet when you visit him and the angels at Purgatory Hall. You notice quickly that he doesn’t eat when you do—he sits across the table from you with a soft smile and tells you that he already ate or, "Don’t worry, darling, I’ll eat later."

(You don’t remember when he first started calling you “darling” but you realize that you like it, and he knows you do, too.)

Vampire!Solomon who notices the collection of vampire-themed books and movies in your room. He pretends to be curious about what you’re reading, even though he knows the book in your hand is an explicit romance novel about a human and vampire having a steamy love affair. You squirm in your seat and tell him it’s just a silly vampire book, and he doesn’t bring it up again when you awkwardly change the topic.

Later in the privacy of his dorm, he wonders what it is about vampires specifically that you find so appealing. Is it the danger of being approached in the darkness by a handsome stranger? Do you want to be claimed by someone who will protect and worship you in exchange for your blood? There’s so many different versions of vampires in human pop culture, it’s impossible to guess without more subtle investigation.

(He tries not to think too hard about why he cares so much.)

Vampire!Solomon who doesn’t realize that his feelings for you have grown into something beyond friendship until its too late. He follows a delectable scent to the RAD library where he finds you studying by yourself. He tries to convince himself it’s just a new fragrance you’re wearing, or perhaps Asmo has given you some bath products to try.

(He’s been so sensitive to smells lately, and it’s only now that he realizes it’s because of you.)

Vampire!Solomon whose nose nearly brushes against your neck when he approaches you silently from behind. His eyes flutter shut in wanton bliss at the mere scent of your blood, thick like honey and just as sweet, pumping through your veins. He salivates at the thought of sinking his fangs into your skin, and he swallows thickly around the lump in his throat. His fists clench at his sides as he resists the urge to touch you and he steps back quickly, just in time for you to turn around and finally notice his presence. He stumbles through an awkward greeting before he makes his excuses and flees to the safety of his dorm, far away from you.

(He feels betrayed by his own desires. He swore to himself that he would be your friend—but that’s not enough. Not anymore.)

Vampire!Solomon who tries to ignore his feelings for you, stomping them deep down into the black chasm where his soul used to be. It’s a futile effort—he’s enraptured and tormented by you, the one person in the three realms he shouldn't want but he craves so much. He tries to find relief for his bloodlust in the human world, but there’s none to be found.

When he arrives in the human world to try to satiate his thirst, he tells himself he’s just hungry. Maybe a proper meal instead of bagged blood will alleviate the bitter hunger swirling inside him.

Before he met you, he liked to play with his food. It used to be such a rush, fucking them or choking them on his cock before feeding from them. He doesn’t seduce his prey tonight, even though they try to entice him—the human’s sultry smile and wandering hands across his chest do nothing but make him shudder in revulsion.

The clouds part and moonlight peeks through. He realizes the human he chose looks like a poor imitation of you, and he didn’t even realize it. He’s tempted to bite them anyway, to rip out their throat and bleed them dry in his frustration—but you wouldn’t approve if you ever found out, would you?

(He stopped killing for fun a long time ago, and he refuses to let this break him.)

He mutters a spell to jumble the human’s memory and lets them wander away from the alley unharmed. He returns to the Devildom hungry and frustrated, and he's determined to fix this problem once and for all.

Purgatory Hall is dark and quiet when you let yourself inside. Solomon called you earlier and claimed he didn’t have anything in particular he wanted to talk about, but he sounded strange. His voice was rough and bitter, so unlike the friendly sorcerer you’ve grown fond of.

“Sol, are you okay? You sound upset about something.”

“Oh, darling,” he sighs heavily into the receiver, “you have no idea.”

“I can come over if you want company, unless you’d rather be alone.”

“You’re so sweet, aren’t you? Very well—the others are out at the moment and I'd rather speak to you privately. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

There’s a flicker of candlelight coming from underneath his bedroom door, and you knock softly before entering. There’s only a single candle lit on the mantle and most of the room is shrouded in darkness. You can’t even see Solomon at first, but you hear a noise near his desk and realize he's watching you from his wingback chair. He crooks his finger for you to come closer when you hesitate just inside the doorway.

He grabs something off his lap and tosses it on the desk haphazardly. The book slides across the smooth surface towards you, and your cheeks flush when you recognize the cover of one of the erotic vampire novels you’ve read.

“It wasn’t as bad as I expected,” he admits, tone far too casual to be sincere, “but like most books, this one isn’t very accurate when it comes to vampire lore.”

You laugh nervously to try and cover your bashfulness. “I suppose you know more about vampires than most humans do?”

He rises from his chair and walks around the desk so that he's in front of you. He leans back against it as he picks up something that reflects the moonlight—a wine glass, one you didn’t notice before in the dark room.

“You could say that,” he murmurs as he swirls the liquid in the glass before lifting it to his lips.

It would be easier to pretend the red liquid he drinks is wine, if it weren’t for its viscous texture and the metallic scent filling the air. You stare at him as he licks away a smear of blood from his lip; his eyes glow unnaturally bright in the dark room as he stares back.

“You’re…you’re a—“ you're stunned into silence, barely able to utter the word as you try to process what's happening.

He sighs and sets the nearly empty glass on the desk. “A vampire, yes.” He scrutinizes your expression. “You don’t seem afraid, darling—but maybe you should be.”

It suddenly makes sense now, how the others always warned you to stay away from him. He treated you so kindly, you didn’t believe he was dangerous. Somewhere along the way, your feelings for him changed into something more. You’ve thought about what it might be like to go on a proper date with him, to kiss him and invite him to your bed and feel him move inside you.

You should be terrified, but you’re not.

You think about his sweet gestures and gentle touches, and the way he says your name with so much fondness. You don’t want to doubt him, but you have to be certain you’re not mistaken about his intentions for you. “You're not going to hurt me.” It's not a question because you already know the answer.

"No, I would never hurt you. Quite the opposite, really." His gaze softens, but he still seems uncertain about something. "I’m not sure you can truly understand what it's like to be with someone like me."

You walk towards him before you lose your nerve, and you place a shaking hand on his chest, over the empty place where his heart should be. “Then help me understand, please? Because I like you, as more than just a friend—and learning about this hasn’t changed that.”

He says nothing while his eyes search your expression, and it feels like he’s picking apart your soul until he unburies the truth behind your words. He must be satisfied by what he sees in your eyes because he takes your hands in his and leads you around the desk to his chair. He sits down and tugs you down onto his lap.

You straddle his thighs nervously, trying hard not to put too much weight on his lap while you grasp his shoulders for balance.

“There must be a lot of things you’re curious about,” he says softly as he strokes the side of your face. He brushes your warm cheek with his thumb. “Let’s start with the basics, shall we? At least your book got something right.” He opens his mouth wide enough for you to see the fangs he normally conceals from view.

You lean closer to inspect them in the dim lighting of his room. They don’t look that sharp and you reach out curiously to touch one. The tip of a fang pricks your finger and you pull back with a hiss. He grabs your hand before you can wipe away the little bloom of crimson where his fang cut you.

“There’s something else you should know before we go any further, darling.” His tongue laps at the droplet of blood pooling on your fingertip, and his chest rumbles with a purr at your taste.

“I don’t like to share.” He watches another drop of blood slowly ooze from the cut. He pops your finger into his mouth with a quiet hum, twirling his tongue and sucking gently before pulling your hand away again. “I won't share your blood.”

His hand on your cheek slides down your neck and pauses over your pulse before smoothing over your cotton shirt. His hand stops on your breast where he feels your heartbeat thrum rapidly beneath his palm. “And I won’t share this.”

His hand glides over the curve of your belly before he dips into the space between your legs. “Or this,” he breathes, spreading his fingers as he rubs you through your pants. He exhales sharply through his nose, surprised at how damp you are already. He teases you a little more with his fingers, mesmerized by the heat of your arousal against his cool fingers. The scent of your slick permeates the air when he pulls his hand away.

“You’ll be mine alone, and no one else’s.” He holds you in place as his fingers clench possessively into the soft swell of your hips. "Can you accept that?"

You don’t know the words to express how overwhelmed and captivated you are by him. He might be a monster, but you’ve never wanted someone more in your entire life. You lean forward and kiss him, and you hope he understands all the feelings you can’t say.

He groans into the kiss as he tilts his head to slot your lips together. His kiss is hard and demanding and passionate. His tongue flicks at the seam of your lips and you open your mouth to him. You taste blood when his tongue curls with yours, but for some reason it makes you want him even more. You break the kiss with a gasp when you start to feel lightheaded.

He wraps an arm around your back and pulls you to his chest in a tight embrace. “Did you know that I could smell how wet you were when you read those naughty books of yours?” he whispers against your ear.

His lips graze along your jaw as he starts leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. “Did you ever fantasize that I was one of the monsters from your stories?" A gentle flick of his tongue against your pulse point. "Did it make you come, thinking about me biting you as I fucked you?”

He huffs in amusement against your throat when you squirm in his lap. "Oh, you did, didn't you?" He licks up your neck and tugs on your earlobe with his teeth. "Don't worry, darling—I thought about it too."

“Solomon, please,” you whine in his ear as you wind your fingers through his hair and to try pull him closer.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he asks as he nips lightly at your neck. “Fucking you senseless, tasting your pretty little cunt, feeding from you after. I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

You whimper when his hand grasps the back of your neck and tilts your head to allow him better access. “Will it hurt?”

His eyes flick up and meet your hesitant gaze; you look so lovely with lust-darkened eyes, brightened with a hint of fear. “Oh, you’re going to love this,” he murmurs darkly, voice thick and full of promise, just before he bites you.

You cry out in surprise when the sharp pinch of his fangs break your skin. The slight pain dissipates and leaves behind a warming sensation that builds where his greedy lips drink from you. Waves of molten pleasure spread down your neck and courses through your veins, and you moan loudly and unashamed as desire pools in your belly.

Your thighs are warm and sticky from the slick soaking your underwear and your clit throbs with need. You grind down against his thigh in search of friction, and he moans appreciatively as he continues to slurp noisily at your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you chase your pleasure, riding up and down his thigh as slick seeps through your pants and eases the glide. The wet fabric of your underwear pulls taut against your folds and adds a hint of friction to your clit every time you rub yourself against him.

He grunts and pushes your hips down, encouraging you to move even faster as he rocks against you. He relaxes his jaw and pulls his fangs from your neck, but the sensation of his tongue licking over the small bite marks is enough to send you over the edge. You hide your face against his shoulder when you cry out his name when you come, another surge of slick coating your folds and seeping through your clothes onto his.

He grabs at your ass and encourages you to keep moving against him, riding out your orgasm and wringing every drop of pleasure from your body. You fall limp against his chest and tremble from sensitivity, exhausted but so satisfied.

“You did so well for me. You’re perfect, darling.” He rubs your back and waits for you to catch your breath before he tilts your head up for a kiss. It's softer and sweeter than the kisses before, but it still stains your lips crimson.

You groan uncomfortably when you shift in his lap, and you realize just how wet and sticky your underwear and pants are now. There are dark streaks of your slick on his thigh and the pant leg underneath your dribbling cunt is soaked.

He looks delighted when he glances down and admires the mess you made of him. “You smell so delicious, I might never wash these again,” he teases, “but for now, perhaps we should move this to the bedroom? There’s so much more I want to show you, and I’m still hungry.”

read more: the vampire event masterlist | obey me masterlist

#obey me vampire au #obey me #omswd #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me x reader #obey me smut #omswd smut #solomon smut #x reader #afab!reader

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xo-cod · 7 months

Text

fluff w simon <33 :') so obsessed w him, lmk if you'd like this w the others 🤍

cw: mentions of his abusive past, babies. also probably ooc/rushed LMAO 🫣

simon riley ♡ who swore to himself that love simply wasn't meant to be in his life after the traumatic past he had to bear now grew to enjoy baking with you, frowning and tutting playfully when your fingers hover over the chocolate chips and placing them on top of the fridge when you keep eating them all. he sighs after a few minutes and gives them back to you, your pout too cute to resist but you make up for it with kisses. they taste sweeter to him anyway <33

simon riley ♡ who worked to the bone as an escape from his personal life, finds himself becoming anxious when he's delayed and suddenly working overtime. he has to try to resist the temptation to become frustrated since he was the second in command and and this was technically the job he had signed up for but the fact that you're waiting for him at home is enough for him to risk everything run straight into your arms. he tries to reign in his impatience but it's hard when every precious minute that ticks by, he could be bundled up in your arms and watching a movie together. he doesn't care which one, so long as it makes you happy. and when he finally does rush back home, the very first thing he does is take you in his arms, ripping away his balaclava to kiss your sleepy face with such tenderness it warms your whole body <33

simon riley ♡ who used to spend the nights alone in his bed, hating to go to sleep because he wouldn't have any restful dreams now looked forwards to the snuggles you'd give him curled up in the bed. needing your body weight on him as if a weighted blanket to help him and keep him calm throughout the night. it's the way your body molds so perfectly to his, your hands interlaced, he can overcome anything like this. such a love wasn't allowed especially in his dangerous line of work. admittedly it was difficult finding the line between work and pleasure. it was hard at first to find the line between simon and ghost but you gave him patience and understanding. something he wasn't used to, something he didn't even think he deserved. you were the first to actually listen and understand his situation. the first to be sympathetic and knowing at how delicate the line had to be. he didn't like lying to you but you never put him in that position to ever do so. his dreams are much sweeter with you now <33

simon riley ♡ who walked around the base with a blank stare, stoic expression now breaks into a small smile whenever he sees you near. there's a lightness around him, the team have noticed. many a times has soap and gaz teased him when he's leaning against his chair risking a slap to the head when they catch the lieutenant deep in thought with crinkled eyes and a soft smile hidden under his mask. he doesn't have the energy to hide it anymore. he rolls his eyes when they make comments but he knows deep down they're true. he's happier with you, he's become better with you. you've got him wrapped your pretty lil finger and don't he know it <33

simon riley ♡ who grew to hate the world around him slowly learnt there was light even in darkness. who carried so much trauma, never experiencing the love of a family held back his own emotions when your parents and siblings accepted him with open arms. getting along with your father, complimenting your mom, all the small kids adoring how funny he was. he found himself looking forwards to next family gathering with your family that now considered him as their own, your mom giving him a gentle hug everytime and him biting his tongue to not cry because he can't remember what his own mothers hug had felt like. but it was similar to this warm feeling he got when he hugged your mom. he could only stand there as the warmness creeps through his heart like a ray of sun, that maybe perhaps this world wasn't as cruel as it once was <33

simon riley ♡ who was always fine doing things himself since he didn't have anyone to rely on now had separation anxiety when you were gone too long. he calms himself down, he's a trained sas soldier but when it's been a while and you're not in close contact, he's prone to becoming anxious. he doesn't want to be clingy or unbearable but you're his anchor in this treacherous world. keeping him grounded when his world has tilted on his axis. his calmness when there's trouble and his relief when the hardships are there. suddenly all the boring and menial tasks such as cooking and shopping are so much fun with you as you both playfully argue over what to buy. he always picks you up a treat no matter what, you're just his love <33

simon riley ♡ who thought his world ended when his mother and tommy died found renewed comfort in a new world waiting for him with you, teary eyed at the end of the aisle. trying to hold back the tears because you look like an angel, an angel he didn't even know if he deserved to have. you always reassure him but as you walk closer and closer, he just wants to take you in his arms and never let you go. the second your hands touch his, a shiver of delight runs through his body and calms his mind. you were his and he was yours, certainly no doubt about it. the years may not have been kind to him but you were a beacon of light throughout it all, this time you were his knight in shining armour. you saved him, even when he didn't realise it <33

and finally, simon riley ♡ who thought it would be him alone in this world now had you and a baby girl. his eyes shining with tears, kissing your forehead as he looks to small little baby sleeping in his huge arms. she was so incredibly small, barely even taking space in one arm. god he was so emotional, the walls that he spent years building around his guarded heart all but melted and crumbled into so many pieces. he looked at you with adoration while you slept in the hospital bed, looking back in his arms and noting all the similarities she bore between the two of you. how he noticed she even shared the same dimple placement just like his mother did, how her eyes crinkled in the same place tommy's did. she was so beautiful, all the parts of his past that he thought he'd lost forever lived on with her. simon sniffled softly, his eyes shining under the hospital lights while his thumb caressed her small forehead gently. he cradled her close to his chest, his heartbeat a soothing lullaby for his little one. his family before may have been snatched cruelly from his fingers but here he made an oath to protect you and his baby until his very last breath.

finally thanking the universe for his rock and now, his baby <33

#simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader fluff #simon riley x you

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arlestial · 7 months

Note

Hey, could you make a part two of how the Blue Lock boys make up for the forgotten date? (Nagi,Isagi,Bachira) 🌷

❝if you'd have been the one❞

synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.

pairing : Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : Alternative endings (angst or fluff/comfort)

word count : 4300~ words

author-note : Hi !! I’m so happy y’all liked this, so I decided to write a part II. Some wanted angst, others comfort, so I did both in order to please everyone :) The part I is here ! Thanks for all your kindness, I’m overjoyed to see so much attention on my writings 😭 I hope you’ll like it !! take care of yourself ♡

tag-list : @cecee77, @mandapanda16, @mariyumemi, @someonethatisnobody, @erintaro, @missalienqueen, @8-xnny, @miyanosm, @neuvilletteismybby

ISAGI YOICHI’s eyes widened when he saw your text, after the game. He knew he fucked-up the instant he stepped inside the soccer field, already regretting his decision. He won, but the stadium applause sounded like an awful ringtone that woke him up to reality, a shrill noise crashing his organs and piercing his ears. His heart was racing; not because of the victory, but because of the apprehension. The fear. The panic, that perhaps, he had lost you. But you wouldn’t leave him, right ? Everybody make errors. You would forgive him, no need to stress. At least, that’s what he was trying to convince himself. But in the depths of his own mind, he wasn’t this confident. He took his phone, excusing himself from his teammates that were celebrating, and isolated himself in the corridor. He tried to call, but you refused it twice. He groaned, his hands shaking, trying to tap a text quickly.

22:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.

- read at 00:24a.m.

00:24a.m. | yoichi ♡ : honey please just accept the call

i know I fucked up, I’m sorry

i shouldn’t have done that

- read at 00:33a.m.

00:34a.m. | yoichi ♡ : i know you don’t want to talk to me right now

I’m coming over

- read at 00:38a.m.

00:39a.m. | y/n ♡ : gosh, how savvy and perspicacious of you.

- read at 00:39a.m.

00:40a.m. | yoichi ♡ : here in two minutes

- read at 00:41a.m.

You turned off your phone, completely mad. You clearly didn’t want to talk to him right now, especially this late. He couldn’t care less about you when he was playing on the field; and now, surprisingly, he knew that he fucked up and he regretted it ? Please. You decided to spend the night elsewhere, at your parents, since they were the only ones responding in the middle of the night - they were probably watching a movie at home and were a bit surprised to see you texting them a "hey, can I come over ? got an issue at home" text out-of-the-blue. As you exited your bedroom with a bag filled with spare clothes, you’re met by a raven-haired man, panting, still in his blue jersey, preventing you from leaving the house. He grabbed your waist when you tried to walk past him.

"Isagi, let me go."

"Love, listen. What I did was selfish, I know, it was a terrible mistake."

"So tell me, Isagi, when did you feel regret ? When you stood me up or when I texted you back, making it clear that I was upset ?"

"Actually, from the very first moment my foot landed on the field. But that doesn’t change anything, it’s still shitty of me, and i-"

"But it changes everything, in fact. So, you could’ve turned around. You could’ve joined me at this restaurant, like you promised me, no ? But you didn’t. So you just lied right in front of my face. How bold of you."

He felt like suffocating. You were right. He should’ve refused to play the match, even if there were the most talented players in the world; because you were his lover, goddamnit. He knew you were insecure, because he was rather absent, and he should’ve came to the date he promised to take you to. He was busy with Blue Lock, neglecting you in the process and not setting aside enough time to reassure you like he was supposed to. He wanted you to slap him, to punch him, as hard as you could; he wanted to suffer physically. It was easier to bear physical pain than to handle the mental distress he was in.

"But no, my sweet boyfriend Isagi Yoichi decided to stood me up to play some random game as if he’s not always away from me all the damn time."

"I don’t know why I did that, honestly. It was stupid, and I’m deeply sorry. You know that I love you a lot, right ? You’re the most important thing in my life, and I don’t want to loose you because I’m too immature to think before I-"

"Am I even enough for you ?"

You were losing patience, your tone now sharp, trying to bite away the tears from falling.

"Obviously you are, darling. You are more than enough, and you deserve so much better than me."

He hurried to say, his hands coming to your cheeks, gently stroking them with his thumbs. The concerned look on his face grew rapidly in a desperate, frightened one.

"That doesn’t feel like it. If it was the case, you’d have turned around. Soccer had always been your main interest, and I’ve always been the second. I don’t want to be with a guy that prefers a sport to his own partner."

ISAGI YOICHI had never experienced so much fear in a lapse of time this short. His heart skipped multiple beats - maybe it stopped completely, heavy. He heard the blood rushing in his veins, in his ears, as if the pulsations were the applause of a whole stadium; it was deafening. His breath hitched, goosebumps painting themselves on his clothed arms. Don’t go.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ Your mind kept telling you that he wasn’t feeling any regret, that he wasn’t really sorry. If this situation presented itself again, he would pick the same decision, leaving you alone, completely by yourself in this stupid restaurant, below the pitiful looks of the waiters, probably whispering at each other who could even stood you up like that. He put distance in your relationship since weeks, months even, ghosting you when he was too tired to send you at least one text to let you know that he loved you still. Regardless of his lack of attention towards you, he wasn’t even capable of respecting his own promises, as he might prefer to play soccer with his friends as usual. And you were just there, always waiting for him, in every situation, waiting for him to come home with a warm smile and a good dinner, sharing kisses, hugs and cuddles on the couch, disappointed when he was reminding you that he’d be gone again in two or three days to return to Blue Lock. You were tired of it. It wasn’t even a relationship at this point.

"I’m not a toy you can play with for some time and then abandon like it’s nothing. My patience is not infinite."

"I never said that. It was an opportunity I couldn’t miss, and I wasn’t enough thoughtful to realize about the consequences of my actions. I just hope you can forgive me for it."

You pushed his wrists away from your face, glaring at him coldly, not wanting to cry for him. You took your bag and walked past him successfully this time, opening the door without giving him a single glance; just stopping in your tracks as you reached the doorknob.

"Goodbye, Isagi. I hope you’ll become the player you desired to be for so long."

You were his motivation, the person he wanted to make proud, the person he wanted to impress when showing his new capacities and his strength. The person he wanted to come home to, everyday, as lovesick as the day before. But now, the tears were flowing silently on his cheeks, as he couldn’t process what he saw. You, closing the door behind yourself, leaving him without any chance of coming back. Because you sincerely realize how much you love someone when you actually lose them.

↳ You tried to push him away, in a faint attempt to show how much you hated him right now. But he just stared at you, his gaze never fading, and he tilted your chin up with his hand. The other went straight to your waist, pressing you against him. Your eyes and his met; and you swore you’ve never saw a fonder look in your entire life. Orbs filled with pure love and softness, enamoured unpronounceable words, a silent plea begging your forgiveness. He leaned and kissed you gently, carefully. When he finally broke the kiss, he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers together, pressing multiple kisses on the back of your hand without breaking the eye contact you both were sharing.

"You deserve someone better, honey. And I want- no, I will become this someone, that will love you properly. I promise you this - and if I break this promise, I swear, you can kill me however you like, it’s up to you."

You bit back a chuckle, amused by his words; but on the depths of your heart, you were fully aware that he was genuine.

"I’ll never disappoint you again. You’re the love of my life, I couldn’t handle loosing you. I’m sorry for what I did, again. I’m an asshole. Really."

He kissed your forehead with so much tenderness, a tenderness you missed during his long absence. He peppered kisses on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, as if you were going to slip away from him. He whispered something else, not daring to break the eye-contact,

"I’d rather watch the whole world burn and experience an endless suffering that having you leaving me for good."

NAGI SEISHIRO tried everything. After multiple unanswered calls and messages left on “seen”, he noticed that you’ve blocked him. He sighed, staring at his ceiling. Was it the end ? He tried to forget you, he really did. He tried to convince himself that you weren’t this important. He tried to wake-up each morning without searching for you underneath the sheets, only to find a cold bed next to him. Occupying his thoughts with games, movies, series, even soccer, wasn’t enough anymore. He needed you in his arms, and he was willing to do every single thing imaginable to get you back.

You were at one of your friend’s apartment, enjoying some time with her watching your favorite series. She left the couch to get you a drink, mumbling a quick "pause the episode, I don’t wanna miss it" before hurrying to the kitchen. You smiled, and did as she asked; until you heard a knock on the door. You frowned.

"You ordered take-out ?", you called your friend from the couch, questionably.

"Nah, I didn’t. Told you we were going to one of my friends’ restaurant this evening."

She came back from the kitchen, two glasses filled in her hands, her brows furrowed. She put them on the table, glancing at the door.

"Who is it then ?"

"Don’t know. Wait, be right back.", she quickly turned around, walking towards the door, and opening it slightly. Her face went blank in approximately 2 seconds, and she gulped.

"Um.. Well, that’s awkward."

You couldn’t hear correctly what your friend said to the stranger; you could only hear a low voice, that sounded awfully familiar. So, you decided to get up, trying to get a peek of the tall figure standing in the corridor.

Your eyes widened.

The series was long forgotten on the screen, the voices echoing between the walls, as you stared, dumbfounded, at him.

Seishiro.

Your friend shifted uncomfortably, deciding to leave you both alone for some privacy as she promptly went to her room. You didn’t know what to say. What to think. But the dark bags under his eyes, that looked stern and empty, his hair even more messy than before, gave you relatively an idea of how the two passed weeks had been for him.

"What are you even doing here, Nagi ?"

Ouch. The use of his name instead of his first name was abysmal; but a relieved sigh escaped from his lips. Finally. Your voice. It sounded so much better than your voicemail, that he had listened every night after you left him in your shared apartment.

"I’m sorry. I- I’m really, fucking sorry for what I did. I miss you, Y/N. I can’t-"

"Nagi, stop. I can’t do this right now."

You cut him instantly, trying to close the door. Well, trying, because he refrained you from doing so, laying his whole strength on the door to keep you from leaving him again.

"Please, Y/N, at least, hear me out."

His voice was pleading, begging even; as much as your heart broke with his wobbly words, you didn’t know what to think, what to say. You bit your inside cheek, wondering what to do, now that he was so close to you, after all this time.

NAGI SEISHIRO looked at you dead in the eye, his own blackish orbs watering at the sight of your frame standing in front of him. His hand wandered to your cheek, his fingertips almost grazing your smooth skin that he missed so bad, as if you were made of real porcelain. Porcelain that he’d break with only one feather touch. So he held back.

"I missed you so much," his voice broke, approaching you hesitantly. "So fucking much. I’m sorry for neglecting you and taking you for granted all the time, I’m sorry I didn’t give you the attention you deserved, the attention you needed. I need you to come back to me. I can’t live without you, baby."

Forgiving him was a tough choice. Your heart was aching at the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks. You’ve never seen Nagi cry before, at least, not cries of pain. But he hurt you, he really did. These two weeks were just obnoxious to him, but they were worse to you. Seeing his texts, his calls, deciding to block him anyway - it was laborious, to say the least, because your feelings for him were still there, haunting your mind constantly, day and night.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ How could you just forgive him like that ? After all he did ? Sure, you meant a lot to him, but did you mean more than anything else ? You were always second, never the first, and it became clearer each day that passed that you weren’t as important as you thought you would be for him. He didn’t even made time for you in his oh-so-important schedule, focusing on soccer and his fucking games, hanging out with his friends who knows where, instead of you. He chose it. It wasn’t random. You weren’t his priority at all. Sitting patiently on the couch, staring at the door with this constant lovesick gaze, waiting for him to return to finally go on your well promised date. But he never returned. And you weren’t going to return either. It was enough.

"You know what ? You were the first thing in my mind, everyday. You always have been the first person I was thinking of in whatever situation I was in. The only voice I wanted to hear, the only person I wanted to see, the only gaze I wanted to get lost in - now don’t tell me you feel the same."

"I do-", but you immediately cut him off, anger taking the best of you.

"You’re a freaking liar. What’s the next step, uh ? You’re going to promise me you’ve changed ? You think I’m stupid or something ? I’m not naive, Nagi, I’ve never been your priority and I’ll never be."

"You don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve been busy, you’re right, but give me a second chance. I promi- I’ll not make the same mistake again, that’s for sure. I realized that you were extremely important to me, more important that I’d like to admit actually, I can’t bear seeing you without me at your side, it just hurts too much. I’m just asking for a second chance."

"As much as it hurts to say, it’s over. I’m not going to give you a second chance when I knew damn well that it’ll not change anything. If you needed time to process your love for me, I’m definitely going to give you time to process it even more."

His eyes widened when he saw you slowly closing the door, in a faint attempt of ending the discussion.

"No, wait, I beg-"

"Move on. It won’t be so difficult anyway, spend some time with your friends and your games, you’ll soon forget about me."

He was now staring at the wooden door of the apartment, tears streaming down his features. He lost you for good this time. And he finally understood how it felt to receive the same treatment that he gave you; to be abandoned by your lover when you needed them the most.

↳ Seeing him in tears didn’t really help your case. Your heart burnt, and you soon felt yourself tearing up, your vision blurred. You let out a broken sob, to which he responded with a call of your name - desperate, probably as broken as your cries - and he embraced you tightly, his nose nuzzling on your neck, sighing when he finally touched you, melting in the loveable hold he wished to feel again. He kept repeating the same apologies, the same confessions of love, hoping it’d soothe your tears.

"I don’t want to hurt you ever again," he mumbled, stroking the back of your hair gently, "I’ll never hurt you ever again.", he assured with a shaky voice.

He kissed your temple softly, still holding you close to him, your head resting on his chest.

"It’ll be the last time I’ll ever put something above you. You’re the most important thing to me - I can’t live without your presence near me all the time. I’m sorry I just realized that I needed to tell you this now. I should’ve known you deserved to hear it properly,"

"You’ll be my highest priority from now on, as it should’ve been from the very beginning, angel."

BACHIRA MEGURU was anxious. At first, he decided to give you space. He hated arguments with you, always trying to avoid them, and he thought that distancing himself might help the situation. Spoiler alert, it didn’t. Sweaty palms grabbing his phone, and immediately turning it off, utterly incompetent. He didn’t want to argue, to entertain a conflict with you; he prefered your smiles and your soft giggles in tickle fights. He missed them. The sound of your hard laughs, the look of your teasing grins. However, he couldn’t bring himself to text you, nor to call you, afraid that you’d pronounce a dry "it’s over". He couldn’t handle the pain, and avoiding it wasn’t the best idea to fix the issue. Meanwhile, it had been 3 weeks, you were now nearly convinced that your relationship with him had come to an end. No texts, no calls, no attempts to see you, you founded it weird, but you didn’t question it. It worried you a bit, yeah, but you weren’t going to chase after him if he didn’t want to talk about it. You were more hurt than worried; after all your moments together, the shared memories and the heavy feelings, he just moved on this easily ? Even though it was totally his fault ? You just scoffed when your friends asked about him, hiding your devasted state behind a mocking tone, saying it was probably over now. You waited for a message all the time, staring at the screen, angry fat tears rolling down your cheeks in frustration. What an asshole.

"You never texted them ? Bachira, are you crazy ?"

Isagi exclaimed, in utter shock. They were in his bedroom, Isagi was sitting on his bed, unable to process what Bachira just told him. The usually joyful man paced around, his face in his hands.

"I- I didn’t know what to say ! I fucked up really bad this time, I was scared of losing them."

"Man, you definitely lost them now. It’s been 3 weeks, you should’ve said something earlier !", Isagi replied, nearly strangling himself in desbelief.

"I know. What should I do ?"

"Bachira..", he sighed, biting his lip in despair, "it’s probably too late now. They’re most likely thinking that you don’t love them anymore or that you moved on."

"But I didn’t ?", Bachira whined when Isagi stood up and smacked his head, annoyed. Isagi mumbled something inaudible, probably about his naivety or his stupidness, again.

"But that’s what it looks like, bro. You stood them up, and they got no news from you, don’t be stupid. Everyone would think the same thing."

Bachira gulped. He was right. And without hesitation, he ran away from his home, heading towards your place, in hope you would accept his apologies. He never sprinted this fast in his entire life, his muscles burning, his ankles aching from the impact of his feet against the stiff concrete of the streets he was running in. The road seemed even longer than usual, and when he finally arrived on your doorstep, he was panting, his hands shaking as he hesitantly knocked. He felt nauseous. Emotions overwhelmed him when he finally saw your form opening the door with a worried look.

"Meguru ? What are you even doing here ?"

He immediately took you in his arms, his head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing-in your comfortable scent, relieved. You yelped in surprise, not reciprocating the hug.

"I missed you so much."

He muttered, still trying to catch his breath. You frowned, surprised by his presence.

"It had been 3 weeks, Meguru. It’s a bit late to come here."

"I know. I should’ve come earlier. I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please, forgive me ? I promise I won’t do it again !"

BACHIRA MEGURU didn’t want to let go of you, choosing to hold you even tighter, letting his tears soak your shirt. He couldn’t care less about crashing your bones with just arms; if it was possible, he’d live in your skin. That seemed creepy, to say the least, but he enjoyed over-proximity with you, and he couldn’t bear to be apart from you anymore.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ After 3 weeks, seriously ? You pushed him off of you, clearly not amused by his whines. You just felt anger, disappointment, embarrassment.

"Meguru, you left me alone for 3 weeks straight, and now you’re coming unannounced as if it was actually common ?"

"You don’t understand, Y/N !! I was too anxious of your reaction after our argument. I didn’t know how to deal with the guilt I felt, I didn’t know how to apologize properly.."

"No, you don’t understand. You really think that ghosting and ignoring people as if they never existed was a solution ? I should be the one to do that, not you. You’re always avoiding conflict and I’m so sick of it."

"I know-"

"No, you don’t !", you sneered, taking a long breath to soothe your nerves, "You never did. You haven’t remembered our anniversary - and it’s not the only thing you’ve forgotten along the way. You never took our conversations seriously, you never put any attention in our memories and our celebrations for them. I don’t want to be with someone who’s not even capable of being mindful of our important moments together and of our special dates. If it’s not important to you, alas, it is for me. I won’t give up another thing, especially if it’s something that is dear to me."

"It’s important for me, I swear. I just don’t know how to show it correctly."

"Then learn. But you can count me out."

You opened the door, leaving a broken Bachira behind, reaching after you. But you turned to stop him, giving him a quick nod, a silent no. The weak smile on your face shushed the golden-eyed boy. And he understood.

"I wish you the best, Meguru."

↳ You bit your inside cheek. Always giving promises he couldn’t keep, with a beam and butterfly kisses. And as much as you loved him, you didn’t know if you could tolerate it again, if your heart could handle another betrayal.

"You’re always promising the same things, but you’re never actually changing.", you argued.

"I can. I know I disappointed you, and you have every right to be upset. I’m trying my best, learning to manage my feelings and my habits is hard and tough, but I’ll do it for you. I’m really trying, Y/N,", he said, his voice breaking slightly, "I’m not used to this. It’s- you’re my first love, and I really hope you’ll be my last. I don’t have any experience in terms of relationships. If dates are important to you, I’ll make all the efforts in the world to make them special and memorable. I want to grow old with you, so please, give me one last chance to prove you that I’m worth it."

You hesitated for some seconds. He wasn’t the type to lie, and right now, he sounded strangely serious. It felt out-of-character, but you needed it to actually make up a decision.

"Fine. But it’s your last chance.", you finally whispered,

"Yes ma’am. Trust me on this one, I’ll make you proud of my work."

He sighed, relieved, immediately peppering your face with kisses. You giggled, trying to push him away.

"Gosh, I missed this sound. Oh- and I’m taking you on a date after; that’s the least I can do. I love you to the moon and to saturn, Y/N. Thank you for everything."

662 notes · View notes

francis-writes · 3 months

Text

FEYD-RAUTHA HARKONNEN NSFW ALPHABET

A/N: btw in these headcanons as well as my other posts about Dune i kinda mix movie and book versions of character

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Feyd-Rautha isn't the most affectionate person, even if you're together. He just falls asleep, hugged into you. He may help you clean yourself and take care of the wounds if it was particularly rough session.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It would be a hard decision but if he had to choose, Feyd would say that he most likes his hands. The way they use a knife, how they engulf your neck... he loves how many lives he took with his hand and you still kiss them and want them on your body.

When it comes to you, Feyd would probably choose all these spots that he uses to make you shiver and writhe. He knows you body well and remember where he needs to focus when he wants to give you pain or pleasure.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

In you, almost always. He sees it as a kind of marking his territory (there was that one fanfic where Harkonnens had black cum so basically everyone could notice stains and knew that they fucked and I absolutely love this headcanon), moreover he needs to secure his line and get an heir.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It takes a bit of time together for Feyd to accept this (and even longer to admit it) but he enjoys being soft with you. He still loves violence and rough sex but he also likes cuddling with you and being petted.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I suppose we all know the answer. Sex and violence are two things he mastered.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He can't choose just one. Missionary is good for keeping eye contact and observing your reactions. Anything where he takes you from behind, gives him feeling of control and domination. Also there are a lots of moment when you're restrained in all possible positions.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Feyd isn't a very humorous person in general and sex is no exception. Smile is the best you can get from him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I'll go here with his 2023 movie look and say that he's as bald and smooth down there, as everywhere else.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Well, he's not the most romantic person. Even if he loves you, he doesn't know how to show it except for being more delicate and caring with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rather doesn't do it. When he's horny, he can just find you or one of his concubines.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

You can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands but I think that he has a mommy kink. He didn't got much affection in his life, growing up in Harkonnen's family and in movie version he killed his mother sooo lots of issues here (in comics he was just kidnapped from parents as a small kid so not much better). Anyway, he wouldn't admit it but he loves when you hug him and stroke his head as he rests on your chest or belly. Praise him, tell him that you love him, you're proud of him and he will melt in your arms.

Also, of course, all kinds of BDSM. Feyd prefers to cause pain but he's sadomasochistic and lets you torture him as well. I won't list specific things he likes because it would be easier to list things he doesn't like.

And semi-public sex? He wants people to hear how he fucks you and to know that you're his and his only.

Perhaps breeding kink (but in Dune almost everybody has breeding kink; bene gesserit is as if somebody had breeding kink and decided to make this everyone's problem). As I mentioned, he sees this kinda as marking his territory and bounding you to him? And of course, he needs an heir (not that he actually likes children).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bedroom is the best. There's a big bed and all of his toys and tools... but Feyd isn't picky. If mood strikes him, he may fuck you on any surface.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Almost everything lol

But just to give a random example, he's always horny after fight, especially if he kills someone (same if you love violence as well and kill somebody).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hmm he's rather possesive so it may be hard to convince him to a threesome. But at the other hand, he's a hedonist so maybe he would like it.

It's hard to say what he wouldn't do because as I say later, this man is down to try almost everything.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

It's not his favourite sexual thing to do, but he never refuses a blowjob. He prefers receiving, giving you oral is a rare occasion. He can do this, just usually his pleasure has priority.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually fast and rough, Feyd only goes slow when he wants to tease you or to torture you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Feyd prefers longer sessions when he can focus on the act and perhaps torture you a little but quickies are not far away in the ranking. As I mentioned, he has a very high libido, so it often happens during the day that he's busy and don't have much time so he just pulls you to the nearest room. And if some servant walks in (very unlikely, considering all the noises alarming people what's happening behind the doors)? Then that's their problem. Feyd doesn't stop thrusting into you, as they leave the room in hurry.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Feyd is that type of man who will try anything in his life at least once, so take care of yourself.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

In general, he has amazing stamina (years of training paid off) but it depends on situation, like, whether you have a standard fast fucking just to satisfy your lust, or you have a whole session with long foreplay. Amount of rounds varies but he can go for a few hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Feyd has a whole collection, whatever he could get. Dildos, clamps, spreader bars, ropes, whips, knives, needles, wax candles, dick rings, chastity belts, butt plugs and a few things that look like torture devices. Anyway, both of you use it rather frequently.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you. With his voice, his words, even his gestures seem sexual. He also likes to touch (or rather grope) you through the day. Fortunately, he has a high libido so it won't take long before he pulls you to the nearest free room.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn't very loud, if he moans or gasps, he does it rather quietly. But he likes every once in awhile talk to you and tease you. Maybe it's nothing special but even "How does it feel, my pet? Don't be shy, look me in the eyes" said in his low voice can make you shiver.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is actually a switch. Top leaning but occasionally enjoys when you take control. And, no matter who's in charge, he's still a sadomasochist so even when he's dominating, he wants you to give him pain.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Perfectly average but he knows how to use it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Probably you all expected this, but yeah. Very high. There's no day without sex and not just one round.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rather quickly. He has a good stamina but sex takes a lot of his energy, especially considering how long you do it and how much he engages in it.

#feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune imagine #dune part two #house harkonnen

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zzthekaiju · 2 months

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So, Godzilla X Mothra as a Monsterverse movie, hmm...

Well, I got a lot of replies to the big comic saying that they’d like to hear my pitch for a GxM movie. So, here you go!

The film should be, at its core, of the romance genre variety. For both the kaiju and the human sub-plots. The overarching theme should not only be the Monsterverse’s usual “natural balance” motif, but also that of loving one another despite our differences and flaws, or perhaps because of them.

After all, “If you love a person, you accept the total person. With all the defects. Because those defects are a part of the person.”

Obviously, Godzilla and Mothra are at the center of the kaiju side of the story. Big G is still patrolling for rogue titans while Mothra has made residence in Indonesia. Monarch returns with Madison Russell trying to prove her worth as a part of it. However, not only is her stubborn attitude grating on everyone, but her head is in a whirlwind because of Mothra’s newest ambassador: A good-natured and pacifistic young lady her age native to where the big bug titan lives. She and this newcomer (we’ll call her Lora for simplicity’s sake) are a mirror to Godzilla and Mothra. Also, Bernie and Trapper should return because there was NO way they weren’t having eyes for each other in the last movie.

As for our two kaiju, their relationship hits a snag when a new titan shows up with an uncanny resemblance to Mothra. And yes, this will be the Monsterverse’s answer to Battra (we’ll call him that here from now on). Battra is something of an older brother to Mothra, and the two have a very strong connection. Unfortunately, Battra’s way of handling protecting the Earth runs counter to how Godzilla does it (as in, wipe out human settlements and attack titans for the most minor of infractions), and Big G tries to handle it the only way he knows how (ie, beating him to death). But not only is Battra much stronger than he lets on (complete with an ability to control plant life), but Mothra intervenes on her ancestor’s side out of familial loyalty (she’s unaware of Battra killing people at this point), causing the king and queen to come to blows until she and Battra emerge victorious, driving Godzilla away.

This turns out to be a really bad move, as Battra is determined to wipe out humanity, believing them to be a scourge that Mothra foolishly trusted. Mothra doesn’t realize her mistake until Battra wipes out an entire village for the crime of being near a forest. She tries to stop him, but nearly gets killed before retreating.

Monarch’s main goal throughout the film is to reunite Godzilla and Mothra, requiring them to look high and low for clues to how this unique symbiotic relationship came to be. A major stop is the Hollow Earth Iwi tribe, which shows how the two met in the first place, and gives Jia a chance to enter the narrative. As time goes by, Madison and Lora’s relationship goes from “unstoppable force meets immovable object” to them finding common ground, and eventually falling in love. It’s them that enables Monarch to hatch a plan. With the help of Jia, and Madison’s mastery of the ORCA, they set Godzilla and Mothra up to meet again. Of course, they’re all rather surprised to see Godzilla so thoroughly heartbroken and ashamed of himself that he submits to her like any titan would to him. But as Jia translates Mothra’s thoughts, the insect Goddess and her king make up for each other’s faults.

Soon, it’s Godzilla and Mothra vs. Battra. But it’s not easy, as Battra has mastery over the elements, giving him an advantage over Godzilla by summoning giant plants to ensnare and attack him. Mothra gets in a lot of good hits, but in the end, it’s a combination attack from king and queen that destroys Battra’s wings, and reduces him to harmlessness. To show how much he trusts his queen, Godzilla allows him to live and Mothra to decide his fate. She ultimately has him confined to the same place she lives so that he has familial company. It ultimately ends with Godzilla and Mothra resting at the area where they first met, as Monarch watches from a safe distance with Madison and Lora sharing their first kiss. At least one person, probably Bernie, states that it’s the best double date ever.

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If anyone has other ideas/opinions, feel free to let me know!

#Ramblings #godzilla #kaiju #monsterverse #mothra #mothzilla #godzilla x kong: the new empire

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legitalicat · 2 months

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"Maybe I Could Learn to Love You" - Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne!Reader

Grabbed the gif from sabrinaacarpenters

AN: To be real with y'all, We Become We from the Journey to Bethlehem soundtrack totally inspired this. I've not seen the movie but this song is blowing up on my tiktok.

Masterlist here!

Summary: Aemond could never choose to love another. Maybe you could learn to love him too.

CW: tooth rotting fluff, arranged marriage, I tried to be as neutral as possible for reader description, did use daughter 1 time and dear girl 1 time so presumably AFAB daughter, no other descriptors for reader, talks of wine

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

When you were ten, your father was named to King Viserys’ small council. As the younger brother of Lord Redwyne, nobody had anticipated the idea that he would have much more influence than a prominent land owner. So when King Viserys asked him to come to King’s Landing and serve in a new position dedicated to agriculture, he accepted immediately and brought you in hopes of securing your future.

That is how you met the young Prince Aemond. He was not much older than you, a year at most. At the time, he was still recovering from the Driftmark Incident as the servants in the castle called it. There had been no hope for saving his eye, and so he was relearning to do everything.

Aemond Targaryen was smitten with you from the beginning. His mother had originally had to argue with him to meet you, as he was the closest person in age to you and perhaps in you he would find a friend. He had never been too fond of people, losing his eye doing nothing to help that. Yet, he had never been more grateful for his mother’s insistence than when he saw you.

It was only you and your father, your mother having died a few years prior. And Aemond’s singular eye focused on you exiting the carriage, much too distracted by discussing a book with your father to notice the Royal Family had come to greet you. When you finally did, your eyes widened, stuttering and stammering apologies about your rudeness.

“Please never apologize for your passions,” he spoke quickly. A bit too quickly, perhaps, as he thought about how that may have been the place of his father or even his mother. But already you had enraptured him and he would not make any apologies for that.

In the days and months following, his mother had arranged with your father that you and Aemond become companions. Unbeknownst to you, a promise had been made. Your father allow her son to be by your side and you would marry a prince.

All you cared about was having a friend. You had expected King’s Landing to feel rather lonely. You left behind cousins and friends in The Arbor. And while knowing that the King and Queen had four children, you had been under the assumption you would be kept separate. So, when your lessons with the Septa were held with Aemond, you were equally surprised and grateful.

Over the years, Aemond’s affections for you only grew. He loved spending time with you, requiring his every waking moment be spent with you. As you grew older and the need for propriety became an issue, he was more than happy to have Ser Criston or even one of the Cargyll twins to accompany the two of you. It didn’t matter to him what you did or who was around. If he had you, he was happy.

You had been in King’s Landing for six years when you were formally betrothed to Aemond, to be married within a moon of your eighteenth birthday. It took you by complete surprise. It made sense, you supposed. If you looked back on the years, you could see how your friendship with Aemond was considered a courtship. He was ecstatic at the news, you were neutral.

It wasn’t a bad idea. Aemond seemed to truly care for you. You knew if your marriage had to be political, better it be to a man such as Aemond. He was good and kind to you, handsome if you were asked to give your opinion. You did not mind his scar or the eyepatch he wore.

Aemond was only slightly disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm at your impending marriage. He figured it was nerves. Coming from a noble house but not being the daughter of its Lord may have caused them when you were presented with such an advantageous marriage. Or perhaps you were so overcome with joy that you were merely struck speechless. He did not mind either way.

It was on your eighteenth birthday that he learned the love he bore you was one sided. He had overheard you speaking to his mother as she gave you a gift. It was a piece of jewelry her mother had once owned, given to you as a way to welcome you. You attempted to deny it. And at her insistence, you confessed why.

“Aemond will be a good husband, but I do not love him. It would feel wrong to accept such a beautiful heirloom as such,” you had explained shyly.

“Dear girl, you marriage may not be one of love, but you are still joining my family. And you are someone familiar with my home, the home my children may never get to see. Perhaps in this, you can feel connected to our home and teach your children of it,” she explained, placing the necklace around your neck.

Despite the ache in his chest that you did not feel for him what he felt for you, he was not any less determined. He loved you. That would not change.

The day before your wedding, he approached you. You had been so busy in the last week, making final preparations for the day. You were nervous now. It was obvious when he saw you. And despite the fact you did not love him, he knew you still considered him your friend.

“Come with me, my love,” he said softly to you, a book in hand.

Since your betrothal, little pet names are all he called you. You never minded. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. You enjoyed the knowledge that every member of court who thought Aemond was cold could see that he adored you. It may have been wrong, but you felt so powerful in knowing a man such as he could be weak only for you. Perhaps that was why you never made a fuss. You were lucky, luckier than most, in having your intended so dedicated and devoted to you.

“Where are we going?” you asked him as he began to lead you down the corridor.

He brought you to the weirwood tree. It was often a good place for the two of you to catch a moment of peace. A guardsman would stand at the entrance to the gardens and pay little mind to the small touches Aemond let linger over you. Here, you felt safe and connected to your roots. Here, you felt as though you and Aemond truly were friends.

He sat on the ground, offering you a hand for assistance for sitting gracefully. He knew you were not one of grace, but he thought it cute that you were as coordinated as a newborn lamb. And you were ever so grateful for that fact.

“Lay your head in my lap and I shall read to you,” he told you quietly.

You were relieved to have this small moment of reprieve from the stresses of planning an event as grand as this. You had been coordinating with your uncle for the wine for the wedding, with Lord Tyrell for extra grains so that you may have your sweets, with many bards throughout the kingdoms to find one to play their music. The Queen and your father took some of the organizing off your shoulders, of course, but you needed this to be perfect.

And so, you laid your head in his lap. He stroked your hair with one hand as he held the book with the other, his deep voice reading the words of a love story to you. You looked up at him. He was truly handsome. The angles of his jawline and his prominent nose made goose pimples rise across your skin. His lilac eye was focused on the page and not you, but it soothed you nonetheless. And his hair…you could not wait until you were married so as to be able to openly touch it.

“You are staring awfully hard, darling. Do I have something on my face?” he asked, his eye flickering from the page to you.

“Remove it,” you whispered.

“We have been over this,” he said quietly. This conversation was the only time he ever seemed cross with you. His jaw clenched every time.

“Yes, I am aware you stated not before we were wed. But it is tomorrow. And I wait to gaze upon the entirety of my husband before I am bound to him before the gods,” you told him, offering a coy smirk.

“If you wish to gaze upon the entirety of me, might I suggest we move to my chambers?” he asked with his own smirk.

You could not help but laugh. He felt comfortable enough with you to laugh, joke, and tease. You were grateful that you could grant him this existence.

“Please, Aemond. How can you expect me to marry you and partake in what is to come if you do not trust me enough to show me you?” you asked him quietly. He knew you spoke of the wedding ceremony that was to be held, and how you feared it, but you had assured him you would do it for him.

You could see how jaw clench again, his nostrils flaring slightly. You had always felt the liberty to argue against him. It was one of the things he loved about you, how you forgot what was expected of you to speak your mind.

But finally, his hand withdrew from your hair as he placed the book aside. Perhaps you had spoken too freely and finally he was getting angry with you. Instead, his hands reached behind his own head.

He had the strap unfastened yet did not remove it. He looked to you. A genuine fear could be seen on his face.

“And if you decide it is too disgusting to gaze upon? What shall I be expected to do then?” he asked you in a quiet voice.

“It would not dissuade me from marrying you,” she told him. It was true, in equal parts because you knew there was no chance of that changing now and the fact you knew you were lucky to be marrying a man such as this. “Though I suppose I would order a bag be kept over your head. Or perhaps only approach you in dark rooms.”

It was a tease, you both knew it. But he was still worried about how much truth hung in your words. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by him.

Seeing how uneasy Aemond still was, you reached up and placed your hand on his. “You love me?” you asked him quietly.

“I could never choose to love another,” Aemond said quickly to you, confirming to you what you already knew.

“Then have faith in me that I will not turn or cower. Have faith in me that I want this marriage, this life, with you,” you told him gently as you began to slowly pull your hand away, bringing his along.

He allowed his hands to be removed, holding the eyepatch in them. The piece of leather had made its indention in his skin from being fastened too tightly. Your eyes then focused on the dazzling blue sapphire that had been secured in the socket.

Aemond noticed how your gaze softened, your entire body going lax. He began to quickly attempt to hide himself, feeling flustered as his pale skin flooded red. A panic built up in him.

“No,” you whispered, taking hold of his hands again. “Please. Do not hide this beauty from me. If you wish to wear it in public, I will stand by that decision. But it would do me a great disservice if you hid away such art when we are alone.”

Your wedding was perfect, if Aemond had any opinion on it. Your hard work had paid off tenfold. Every guest had enjoyed the feast after you were bound to Aemond. It felt like your greatest accomplishment, proving you were up to this insurmountable task of marrying a prince.

When all the Lords were too overtaken by their food and drink to notice, Aemond took your hand and led you away from the main hall. For a moment, you worried about how it would look if you were to be seen alone together. Then you remembered you were now married and felt relieved, albeit a little stupid.

“Where are we going? We will be missed,” you said, giggling a bit as you followed close behind him.

“Most are too drunk to remember they have toes, I doubt we will be missed too much,” he assured you.

You followed him in silence. It was sweet, you thought, that he was eager to finally have a true moment alone with him. He allowed himself to be soft with you, something you adored. It allowed an ease to be felt between the two of you.

The two of you trekked through the entirety of the Keep. Upstairs, downstairs, around corners, and through doorways you didn’t know existed. Then he brought you through a last doorway that lead into one of the apartments that you had never before been in.

It was a room almost too grand to imagine. It was filled with an inexplicable warmth you had missed since first coming to King’s Landing. The furniture was the standard styles of all the Keep’s furniture, being obviously expensive and well crafted. What caught your eye was the subtleties of it.

Grape vines had been made to grow so that they hung over the windows. You could smell the salty sea water of Blackwater Bay with every small gust of wind. A bowl of peaches laid on the bedside table. The duvet on the bed was a deep burgundy as though it were made from the sweetest wine.

“It occurred to me that you have not returned home since you arrived,” Aemond’s voice entered your ears.

You had been too busy looking over everything to remember his existence. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were keeping and tears flooded to your eyes. The room felt exactly like how you remembered The Arbor.

He lead you to the windows, holding your waist with one hand. He kept you on his right side, his good side, as he did so. He looked down at you as you looked up to him.

“Part of your wedding gift is that I have ensured there will be no bedding ceremony,” he whispered while placing his hand on your chin.

“Aemond, I…there are no words,” you stammered out, as your eyes widened. There was no way you could imagine how it was possible. It was expected of royalty.

“Your other part, is this,” he told you. With a gentle grip, he turned your face outwards before removing his touch.

It was beautiful. The night sky littered with stars, the Bay extending into the horizon, forgetting the existence of the land that it was meant to wash away. Lights flickering had dotted the landscape.

“I fear I do not understand,” you whispered, looking to him confused. You realized he had taken his eyepatch off while you weren’t paying attention. Once again your breath was taken from you.

He looked from the beauty of the night to you. You were his own private beauty, one that he would get to keep for his entire life.

“I know you do not love me,” he told you, shaking his head when you began to say something. “No, no, I understand. And it does not deter me from loving you every moment of my life.”

“I want to love you,” you whispered breathlessly.

“It is okay if you do not. But my gift to you is a promise,” he said, his fingers running along your jawline. “I am the second son of a king who cannot remember how to chew his food, let alone care for his family. I have never held any lands, nor have I ever proved myself in battle. But my heart and soul are yours. We can go wherever you wish. I will build you a castle from the ground to the stars with nothing but my hands if you asked me to. I promise you I will spend every breath giving you every star. I will give you my entirety.”

You didn’t look away from him. Your heart was pounding against your chest, every moment feeling like you were seconds away from crying. Whenever you thought of love and devotion, this was what you thought of. He was willing to set the world on fire for you even without the promise of love.

“Maybe I could learn to love you, too.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #dividers by benkeibear

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toxophilitis · 3 months

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The Widow's Horny Family cont

CHAPTER FIVE

The sun was shining when Peggy woke up. She sat upright in bed, confused for a moment. Then she swung her feet over the side and, wearing only panties, went straight to her son’s bedroom.

With relief she saw him sprawled there, still sleeping.

She had fallen to sleep waiting for him and had not heard Donny come home. That was unusual, because Peggy had always waited up for her son when he was at a late movie with friends. But then she had known where was and what time he would be home.

Last night she had not known where he was. And that made a difference, a big difference.

Simply because he was fucking her, she thought, was no reason for her son to ignore the established rules. Feeling angry, she showered and dressed, choosing a becoming skirt with pleats, a garment that emphasized the swell of her ass and swirled about her thighs as she walked. A tight, sleeveless summer sweater concealed her tits, but not the firm thrusting shape of them nor her nipples.

She had her usual coffee, thinking about what she would have to say to Donny about last night. The more she thought of his unconcern, the more she fumed. She thought about spanking him, but he was getting too big for that. She could ground him, as the teenagers called it. She could restrict him to the house for a few days, a week perhaps. If there was one thing Donny dreaded, it was being unable to leave the house during the summer months.

The sound of the telephone startled her out of her thoughts.

“Peggy?” she heard, the voice vaguely familiar to her. “This is Grace.”

Peggy’s eyes widened.

“Yes, Grace?” she replied, apprehension growing in her.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee with me,” Grace said, her voice unusually low. “I know we’ve never been that close, but it seems we may have something in common.”

“I’d be pleased, Grace,” Peggy said, hardly believing she could possibly have anything in common with that tall, icy woman.

“Shall we say in an hour?” Grace asked. “Just you and I—Susy will be out, I’m sure.”

“Of course, Grace,” Peggy replied, hanging up.

She sat there, her coffee becoming cold, deep in thought. She was sure now that Donny had been caught with Susy. After living next door to this woman for some time, this was the first overture of friendliness ever. She recalled how Susy had squatted there to whisper to her mother. And now, Donny out most of the night.

She felt something was wrong.

For a moment she considered waking her son and asking him what he had been doing, perhaps getting some information from him before she saw Grace. Discarding the idea of talking to Donny first, she went to her bedroom and brushed her auburn hair and applied daytime make-up.

She rapped on the door and was admitted by Grace.

Peggy was surprised to see Grace wearing a robe. But, despite the robe, the woman was made up and her hair was gleaming. She still presented an aloof appearance, despite the smile of greeting as she ushered Peggy into the house. This was the first time Peggy had been in Grace’s house, and she was pleased to see the good taste of the furniture and original paintings on the walls.

She accepted a cup of coffee, black, from the tall woman. She looked at Grace, thinking she was more aristocratic in her bearing than cool as she had first thought. The woman was obviously well educated. Sitting on the couch with the coffee table—solid oak—holding her coffee, she waited as Grace sat at the other end of the couch, arranging the folds of her robe demurely over her thighs.

“You mentioned we had something in common,” Peggy prompted.

Grace looked at Peggy for a long time before answering. Peggy shifted nervously, glancing down to make sure her pleated skirt covered her thighs. Then she felt and saw Grace’s dark gaze fixed upon her tits. For a moment Peggy almost blushed, despite the many times she had been looked at his way by men and women, especially those times when she and her late husband had sized up a new couple to fuck with. Yet Grace looked at her tits not exactly with distaste. There was something in those dark eyes that Peggy detected, a warming perhaps.

“Our respective children,” Grace said.

Peggy’s breath caught in her throat. So it was Donny and Susy. Her anger started to flare again. She had asked him to keep his hands off the succulent girl, but he had gone ahead and done something with her and they had been caught.

“Go on,” Peggy said, her voice barely a whisper.

“As I said, we’ve never been close, Peggy. But there are reasons for that. Perhaps, if we should become friendly, you’ll understand.”

“Please, get to the point,” Peggy insisted.

“Yes, of course,” Grace said, and her gaze was again upon Peggy’s tits. “As it usually happens, parents become acquainted through the friendship of their children. I’ve been observing the growing closeness of my daughter and your son.”

“Has Donny done anything that...”

Grace cut Peggy off with a laugh. The sound was very low, throaty, and, Peggy thought, close to erotic. This was a Grace she hadn’t known about. “No, of course he hasn’t done anything to displease us. I suppose you’re wondering where your son was late last night?”

Peggy nodded, confused about this woman. There was no icy aloofness now, only warmth.

“Donny was here.”

“Here?” Peggy repeated, looking sharply at Grace.

“Oh, yes,” Grace murmured. “He’s a delightful boy, you know, and Paul and I couldn’t be happier that our daughter has taken a liking to your son. We watch Susy carefully about who she plays with, you know.”

My God, Peggy thought. This woman is talking as if those two children are planning a marriage, or at the least an engagement.

“We love to have Donny here, Peggy,” Grace went on. “We hope that you would welcome Susy into your home as we do Donny. There is an attachment between the two that Paul and I don’t object to in the least.”

Peggy picked up her coffee and found it cold.

With her mind whirling with puzzlement, she made the appropriate comments, but didn’t remember the things she said or half the things Grace talked about. She was there for over an hour, and, by the time she was ready to go, it seemed as if she had just arrived.

“I must admit I am surprised, Grace,” she commented as she stood up to go. “You’re not as aloof as you indicate.”

“My husband and I don’t get too close to people,” Grace replied. “As I mentioned, you may understand in time. You see, our family is quite close, and we wouldn’t like it if others pried.”

At the door, she turned to face Grace. Peggy was perhaps an inch shorter. “I assure you, Grace, I do not pry. Your business is not my concern, nor is your family. Please rest assured that I do not peek into your windows.”

Again Grace came out with that almost erotic laugh. She placed her hand on Peggy’s bare upper arm in an intimate manner. “Of course you don’t peek in windows, Peggy. I didn’t mean it that way at all. I know, know very well, that you don’t pry.”

Grace was looking intently at Peggy, those dark eyes almost piercing. Peggy felt the fingers of the woman press into her arm softly. The falling of the robe caught her eye, and she glanced at Grace as the robe parted from neck to foot.

Grace said nothing, slowly pulling the robe back around her body. But not so fast that Peggy had not seen the woman’s body. Grace wore a bra, but it was a bra with no cups. It curved beneath her large tits, holding them up. Her tits had ruby-red nipples. About her waist was a black garter belt, and Grace wore nylons instead of panty hose. Her midnight-black cunt hair was thick and formed a perfect triangle.

She lifted her gaze to Grace as the robe covered the woman’s nakedness. Grace smiled at Peggy, opening the door for her.

Back in her own house, Peggy found the image of the tall, beautiful woman burning in her mind. What she had seen was not an icy woman at all. Grace, Peggy knew now, was not the cold person she presented about the neighborhood; she was, Peggy knew, quite a hot, erotic person.

The conversation, what she had not missed, told her nothing realty, except that Susy’s parents welcomed Donny into their home, and his attachment to Susy was also welcome.

She heard the shower going and went down the hall to see her son just getting out, his body dripping. His cock stood tall, quite hard.

Peggy forgot about Grace as she stared at her son’s cock.

“Mmmm, that’s beautiful, baby,” she murmured. She moved close to him and wrapped her fingers about his prick. Pressing her lips to his, she pulled his wet body against hers, soaking her sweater and skin. “Can I have some of it, Donny?”

His hands went about his mother, gripping her ass tightly as he shoved his prick to her thighs. “You can have all of it,” he said.

“Ooooo!” Peggy squealed, dropping to her knees before him in the bathroom. “I want to suck it... just for a bit.”

Taking her son’s cock inside her mouth, she sucked back and forth, tasting his throbbing hardness. The image of his prick fucking into the sweetness of Susy’s cunt flared like a sudden flame inside her mind.

As the image of her son’s cock fucking Susy’s sugary cunt burned in her brain, she felt her own pussy erupt into an unexpected orgasm as she sucked on his prick.

Pulling her mouth from Donny’s cock, she looked up at him. “Donny, did you fuck Susy?”

He nodded.

For a moment Peggy gazed up at him, then she climbed, to her feet. Taking Donny by his hand, she led him, still naked and dripping, to her room. Sitting her son on the bed, she undressed, tossing her wet clothing over the back of a chair she kept in the bedroom. Naked, she stood there, looking at him, her feet spread slightly apart. She placed her hands on her hips.

“You wouldn’t listen to me, would you?” she said, but there was no anger in her voice. “I had coffee with Susy’s mother this morning.”

Donny looked at his mother, but there was no fear in his eyes. “So what, Mother? I think Grace is nice.”

“Is that what you call her, by her first name?”

“She asked me to,” he said.

“What were you doing there most of the night?”

“I... we... Mother, we just visited.”

“You said you fucked Susy.”

He nodded. “In her room.”

“Where were her parents while you were fucking their hot-assed daughter?”

“In the living room,” Donny said.

“Were you caught by them?”

He shook his head. “They knew we were in Susy’s room, Mother. In fact, it was their suggestion that we go there.”

Peggy remembered the slowness Grace had used in closing her robe, the body underneath it.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said, going to him.

Climbing on the bed, she pulled her knees beneath her stomach. “Right now, I’m so fucking hot for your cock, baby, I don’t want to talk.”

Peggy wiggled her ass wickedly in the air, looking over her shoulder at her son. “Remember when I kissed and sucked your ass, Donny?”

He grinned at his mother. “You wanna get your asshole sucked, Mother?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. He turned on the bed and shoved his face against his mother’s creamy ass. The heat of her ass cheeks burned his lips as he kissed from one to the other. He snapped his tongue out and licked every inch of her smooth ass cheeks, then delved between them, licking his tongue over the tightness of her asshole without hesitation. Peggy mewled and shook her uplifted ass in his face.

Donny lapped up and down, sliding his tongue along her wet, quivering cunt lips, tasting the juices that flowed from her pussy. He slipped his tongue into his mother’s cunt and fucked it back and forth, then scraped it up to lap hotly upon her puckered asshole.

“Ohhhh, darling, baby... oh, God!” Peggy wailed as her son’s tongue fucked into her asshole. “Ooooo, that’s so good! I love that... fuck my asshole with your tongue, Donny! Fuck Mother’s asshole! Fuck it, tongue it!”

But Donny pulled his tongue from her asshole. Peggy yelped her protest, wanting it back inside. Spreading her knees on the bed, she looked back between her legs. Donny was on his knees, his cock very hard. When she felt her son grip her hips, she knew what he was going to do.

“Oh, yes!” she screamed.

The head of her son’s cock rammed against the tight pucker of her asshole. Peggy wailed with pleasure, arching her ass higher for him. The pressure of his cock upon her sensitive asshole seemed to create an intense ecstasy that rippled up and down her creamy flesh. She was gasping and making soft hissing sounds as she shoved her spreading ass backwards.

Before his cock entered her burning asshole, Peggy shot her right hand between her thighs and gripped his dangling balls tightly. She writhed her naked ass in an erotic manner for his visual delight, urging him to fuck his cock up her asshole. The anticipation of taking her son’s cock up her ass caused her cunt to twitch, quiver, almost convulse. Her clit had already been quite swollen, but now it seemed about to burst apart with almost unbearable ecstasy. She felt her son’s fingers digging into her lips as he shoved the head of his cock hard against her asshole.

“Ohhhh!” she wailed, feeling the smooth roundness of his prick penetrate the ring of her tight asshole. “Ohhh, yes, yes, yes! Oh, God... yes!”

It had been so long since she had felt a hard throbbing cock up her ass, and Peggy’s mind soared with the sensations. She had always loved being fucked in the ass, but the feeling her son’s cock gave her was much better than she remembered. She swung her ass from side to side, the ring of her asshole squeezing tightly as Donny’s cock fucked as deep as his prick could go. She held his balls against her bubbling cunt, tightly, as if she were trying to stuff them inside.

“Ohhh, baby, baby!” she wailed. “Fuck it! Oh, God... fuck Mother up the ass! My hot ass... fuck my hot Goddamn asshole! Give it to me, Donny! Really give me a fuck up the ass.”

Donny made no reply.

He grunted with the perversity of fucking his mother in her asshole. With his fingers digging into her hips, he began to fuck his cock back and forth with vigor, his balls slapping against the wetness of her hairy cunt. Peggy turned loose of his bans, her fingers now clawing at the sheets with blazing, mindless ecstasy. Her eyes were squeezed tight, her lips parted. She whimpered softly as the ecstasy flowed through her. The throbbing pulsations of her son’s cock could be felt with her sensitive, tight asshole, and she tightened it about his prick, trying to draw on his cock.

Bending her head down, she peered with liquid hot eyes, watching his balls slap rhythmically against her hair-rimmed cunt as his cock fucked excitedly into her asshole. The growing waves of tingling orgasms were building in the pit of her trembling stomach. It was the greatest feeling in the world to Peggy. Shaking her ass in a frenzy as her son fucked in and out almost brutally, she squealed and whimpered when her cunt started through waves of glowing orgasms. Goose bumps raised on her satiny flesh, bumps of intense ecstasy.

As she started to come, her asshole set up a flexing, drawing motion on her son’s deeply fucking cock. Her asshole squeezed and sucked at Donny’s prick with powerful, gripping muscles.

The throbbing of his cock became more pronounced, sending sparks of heat into Peggy’s ass. The burning, searing sensation of his cock fucking in and out of her asshole had her coming in powerful spasms.

“Come in me!” she screamed. “Come up my fucking ass, Donny! Oh, please, come in Mother’s hot, fucking asshole! I want it, baby, want to feel your cock coming in my ass!”

Hardly had the words erupted from her constricted throat then her son slammed hard against her upturned ass. His stomach slapped upon her satiny ass cheeks, his cock penetrated deeply, his balls smashed against her convulsing cunt. The come juice splashed from the piss hole of his cock in powerful spurts, flooding the depths of her fiery asshole. She could feel the throbbing of his squirting discharge within her sensitive ass ring, and it sent a mind-shattering orgasm bursting in and around her hairy pussy. Although her knees were drawn up beneath her body, arching her naked ass into the air, she felt a weakness come over them.

She slowly began to slump upon the bed, and her son moved along with her, his cock still deep inside her clutching asshole. She sprawled on her stomach, her long legs spread, her son between them, resting upon the round firmness of her shivering ass cheeks. She felt his lips kissing at her smooth back, between her shoulder blades.

Turning, she pulled her son into her arms and held him tightly, her spongy tits smashing almost flat against his chest.

“You see, darling,” she murmured, “you have no reason to screw around with Susy. You’ve got everything a young man could want with me.”

When he didn’t reply, she went on, “Don’t you see, Donny? There aren’t many girls that would let you fuck them up the ass. What does a girl like Susy know? I’ll fuck you anytime you want, suck your sweet cock off, and you can fuck my asshole when you want.”

Still Donny said nothing, and Peggy sensed he wasn’t paying much attention to her.

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