#thorne’s theatrics

[mystoz]

— 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊

HELLO AGAIN !!

these rules exist for the purpose of setting boundaries. whilst i am happy to fulfill a request, there are certain lines i will not cross. that’s what these are for !

if any of these rules are broken when requesting, they will be deleted question and without explanation. also, for my sake, please be nice when requesting. if you are rude, persistent, or anything along those lines, your request will be deleted.

CONTENT

specifics:

when making a request, please be specific with what you want !! i will not be able to properly fulfill your wishes without proper explanations of what exactly you want. this especially applies to the pronouns of the reader. it truly does not matter what pronouns you wish to have the reader use: if nothing is specified, it will simply just be gender neutral. i cannot stress this enough, please be specific !!!

immediate deletion/immediate block:

nsfw(for the love of god please don’t; slightly suggestive stuff is okay but nothing too severe), reika/chloe/cure beauty/glitter breeze x rascal(blocked on sight), incest, teacher x student(must i even explain?), junko x anyone, lloyd x ninja, kazuichi x sonia(he harassed sonia im sorry im not comfortable at all writing this), shuichi x kaede(no disrespect to saimatsu shippers i am just personally not comfortable with it), bai he x anyone(unless platonic/familial)

things i don’t write:

ABO, Mpreg(TDads don’t count for this category), saimatsu, sounia(kazuichi x sonia), kaimaki(nothing against the ship itself, i just cannot write them very well), sakuraoi(same prior reason), naegiri(same reason as sakuraoi), jaya(same reason as literally almost every ship on here), romantic dragonfruit(QPR/familial/platonic dragonfruit is fine)

CHARACTERS

danganronpa characters i don’t write for:

hifumi yamada, toko fukawa/genocide jack, yasuhiro hagakure, junko enoshima, mukuro ikusaba, teruteru hanamura, imposter/twogami, hiyoko saionji, ryoma hoshi, gonta gokuhara, any UDG character, any remainder of the anime characters

precure characters i don’t write for:

candy, pop, wolfrun, majorina, royale queen, akaoni, gula, leva, madoka aguri/cure ace, okada joe, princess marie ange, trump king

ninjago characters i don’t write for:

mechanic, pythor, cryptor, kalmaar, wu, aspheera, misako, nelson, antonia, dareth, ultra violet, killow, bansha, ghoultar, soul archer, there are probably more but there are so many fucking characters in this show oh my god i am literally just going to leave it at this for the sake of my sanity

lego monkie kid characters i don’t write for:

bai he/LBD host(unless platonic/familial), huntsman, strong spider, lady bone demon, chang’e, nezha(unless platonic/familial)

[a-literal-toaster-wtf]

put thomas thorne, julian fawcett and the captain in a blender and the resulting horrific gloop is arnold j. rimmer

[daemonicdasein]

Japanese theatrical poster for Omen III: The Final Conflict (1981).

[aromanticasterisms]

also arlecchino saying furina was under some kind of curse. what was up with that

[tenth-sentence]

It looks for all the world like Jim Jones has pulled a suspiciously chicken-gizzard-looking cancerous tumour clear through your skin and is holding it up in the air like a gold medal at the bullshit Olympics while everyone cheers.

"Zealot: A Book About Cults" - Jo Thornely

[sonjalikestodraw]

Lovers, come get your groom!

Smitten is here to look dashing ✨ and sweep you off of your feet — and he's already dressed up!

Design notes:

Based on a peacock; symbol of love, vanity and cosmic majesty.

As a part of Slayer's psyche, represents Passion + Uncritical Infatuation

Inspiration: a swashbuckling adventurer (boots, trousers and duelist cape) and a prince (flowing poet's shirt, lavish decorations to match the Princess).

Every design element directs your eye to his chest/heart. ("I wouldn't mess with him. He has very strong feelings.")

The duelist cape is not only fancy and theatrical to fit his personality, but also wide open (vulnerable) and asymmetrical (skewed priorities).

Is part of "the knights" (him, Hero and Skeptic) but wears no protective gear whatsoever. Smitten is confident that he won't get hurt unless he thinks he deserves it.

The frills on the shirt matches Damsel's frilly dress.

Big love = big man = big arms for carrying his beloved to safety!

Heart-shaped hair buns for a relaxed, soft look. He's all friendly curves.

Peacock antennae = hair pins, with more hearts like visual noises. Surely, she can hear his spirit!

Peacock face markings = fluffy, shapely beard for a virile, masculine energy (and for the record, I ADORE butch Smitten headcanons)

Default/Damsel look is gold + crystal. Here, the cape decoration is directly modeled after Base Princess' crown, while the gold comes from the single color mentioned from Damsel's basement. He's a simple rescuer, a golden trophy. His boots are brown for the classic swashbuckler boot (+ matches Hero's brown feathers).

Burned Grey look is black (both a groom about to be wed and a widower) with the cape tattered (love lost/tarnished). The white pearls on the brooch are the same kind as Grey's crown.

Thorn look is dark red with black boots, a somber and bloody color scheme for our history with the Witch and Thorn's mood. And yet a passionate, romantic red. Wears a single poppy, picked from Thorn's cabin... it's as if he's dressed for a date, with a flower in his lapel.

[laurapetrie]

On one occasion she brought me a couple of rose bushes. It was a cold day in early March. She said, "If you put them in now you'll just make it; this one is called after me - rather pretty, and very sweet of them - and this one," indicating a little bunch of thorns in a plastic bag, "this one is new, I ordered it specially for you, it's called 'Super Star'." And I said, rather lightly, "Then they are both called after you, how lovely." Viv was quite still for a moment, and then her eyes rimmed with tears and she hugged me like a little bear. And we just stood there in the cold garden among the silent roses until she had composed herself. When she was ill, this last time, she sent me a card with a lady wearing a huge cartwheel hat covered in cherries and lace, an old theatrical postcard, I think it was of Lily Elsie, and she wrote, "This is what I wear in bed to receive my guests and visitors. Don't wait until I'm stronger, I'm simply splendid; do, do come in sometime next week." But there wasn't a next week. - Dirk Bogarde

[0law]

💖💖🛋️💖💖✨

B: Hello again, Stanly

Ready for another dose of nightmares? Today I made something that will melt your eyes and….

S: Just spill it. My dreams are lucid enough to destroy your silly theatrics.

But I admit, reliving that horse race was great. I was finally able to change the outcome.

How about you look for something profitable? Even better, just keep wandering around the room where you're not in the way.

S: Even if you're a millennial creature or whatever, there's always something new to learn, like how to make good jokes. That would be fun. Your sense of humor borders too much on the creepy, too much for my taste.

B: You are a… those nightmares weren't bad jokes told!!!!

Whew, it's been so long and something has me so exhausted and sad. If you would just lend me your body for a moment to apologize to Stanford and the kids, maybe I wouldn't be such a mess. I'm sick of living with this guilt. Snif, snif.

What do you say, will you finally allow me to do something good with my infamous existence?

S: Yes, I can understand you. I know how important it is to ask for forgiveness in order to move on. You've admitted something very difficult; I think I'll give you a chance?

Really? Ha ha ha ha. Good one, Bill! You're getting better at jokes.

So you finally pulled out the sorry bad guy card? Ha ha ha ha. I've been waiting for it for a while. Good thing I wasn't drinking anything. Ha ha ha ha.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

B: Shut up already, you idiot! When you least expect it, you and everyone will pay. I'll make every pore of your pathetic old man meat have 2 inch thorns in it.

S: Ha ha ha ha. I must admit, if this wasn't a dream, in real life you would have laughed me to death.

B: I'll rip you to shreds!!!

[etheries1015]

Yk throughout Lilia's past thing I wonder why in the old OLD wars people don't use verbal bullying as a weapon- Killing is already included in physical bullying so why not go all out?

Imagine past Lilia with this one friend aka you who fights the annoying humans with money, curses, and (out of pocket) words instead of the traditional going to war way. Verbal bullying can reduce the enemy's morals (probably).

"Instead of worrying about our MoRaLs, why don't you start worrying over YOUR DRIER THAN THE AFTERGLOW SAVANNAH SCALP"

"Our ruler's temper isn't too good, but that kingdom's ruler is bad tempered AND ugly"

"If yall didn't stink so much, maybe the faes wouldn't have found you so easily"

Also

You: You should watch your steps, the floor of this mansion is slippery after all :)

Enemy: Is that a veiled threat?

You: What veil?

People say that the place where faes live are surrounded by thorns, but you have thorns in your mouth ;)

NO BUT THIS IS SO FUNNY. Instead of using your incredibly impressive fighting skills (Lilia has seen firsthand) you first choose the most outrageous and...unique insults and strategies he had ever heard and seen his entire life. Sometimes Lilia can't tell if you are truly affected by the fighting, or if you had gone simply insane and cannot feel complex emotions; numb, to be frank. Upon asking you such questions, In response you shared to your comrades; "Some people cope by sadness and despair, others cope by humor and lightheartedness. I choose the latter- for I would rather live my life smiling at the most ridiculous of things than sit in a puddle of my own tears and trauma."

Thus, you delve deep into the theatrics as a way to distract yourself from the true horror of things.

"Dang, you really went to war looking like THAT? Even I would pity you, and that says a lot!"

"You have the intelligence of a soggy piece of bread! Didn't you hear ANYTHING about subtly?"

"Oh yeah, you're definitely first to die in any scenario. You check all the boxes. I'm surprised you haven't managed to kill yourself by now! Congrats!"

"You're living proof that you do not need to be funny to be considered a clown!"

"damn, human AND ugly? Pick a struggle, to have both is truly a crime!"

I imagine that this MC really enjoys distracting people with long winded prologues or speeches. With fake tears in their eyes, sobbing in front of a wave of humans with their arm up to the sky-

"I would like to thank my mother for this grand opportunity, my pet snake, and my dear beloved and far too soon departed friend Lilia-"

you hear from a distance an annoyed fae yell "I'm not dead!"

you ignore him.

"And to all of you, my grand audience, for granting me this wonderful chance to demonstrate what it truly means to be ignorant."

Confused glances around the humans- before collective screaming as they are all falling into a pit that you lead them to. Lilia catches up to you and stares at the handful of human soldiers who fell into your trap with hands resting on his hip and raised eyebrows, glancing over at you impressed.

"Clever, yet...strangely obtuse. Good distraction, it's almost embarrassing to call you one of our strongest generals with your antics..." He hummed before his face taking a flat and annoyed look as you reveled dramatically in his praises.

"Why can't you be normal."

Reader being incredibly childish yet super clever like Clavis from ikemen prince and the personality of Furina from Genshin impact SDLOIHLJ

[mystoz]

ok thorne hc 😤

uuuhh. u doodle ur ocs on the edge of ur papers during school. u put WAY too much detail into them too while ur at it

like this is u ^ (i stole this from fluffberries on pinterest)

IT’S TRUE HELP ME i only have like two examples

THIS ISNT EVEN MY ART STYLE BUT I STILL LOVE MY GUYS

[retrosabers]

𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐒.

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: sometimes you and eddie’s banter can take a bit of a turn

warnings: allusions to smut, swearing

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is a very small little something to ease myself back into writing. let me know if you would be interested in a second part! :)

“cut the shit munson.” you spit from your place at the other end of the drama room. “you don’t intimidate me.”

eddie laughs, a cynical sound that rumbles from deep within his chest. the boy smirks, and you have to fight the urge to jump across the table and smack him.

“oh really?” he leans back in his throne, spreading his legs wide. “then why are you standing all the way over there?”

you roll your eyes, poking your tongue into your cheek. his arrogance was unyielding, and it seemed especially true when he was in his element like this. eddie was always one for theatrics, even more so after a session of his beloved dungeons and dragons.

it was so irritating.

eddie cocks his head to the side, eyeing you in a condescending way. with a narrowing gaze, you slowly saunter over to his seat, eyes never leaving his. the smirk on his face intensifies. like he had you right where he wanted.

there’s always been a cat and mouse game between you and eddie. a competition to see who could push each other’s buttons the most. your friends nagged you both about the tension that so obviously lingered in the air, but you could never tell if it was from a growing dislike, or just the opposite.

whether eddie was a thorn in your side or the apple of your eye, you would never give him the satisfaction of letting him win. ever. especially in this moment.

the boy props his foot against the edge of the table, and pushes it back. the squeaking sound startles your ears, and eddie can’t help but be amused at the way you flinch. you gracefully slip past him and lean against the table’s edge. you’re situated right between his legs with a sharpness in your eyes that makes his head spin.

“i don’t have all night eddie.” you say with a bit more venom than intended. it was a long and stressful day, and you had been running around campus like a maniac looking for your chemistry notes only to find out the biggest pain in your ass had stolen them after first period.

“relax princess,” he reassures with mock concern. the pet name sets your skin ablaze and he takes note of the way your fists curl around the table’s edge when he says it. “got it right here.”

he reaches behind him for the worn out red notebook.

you scoff. “funny how you would steal my notes for the one class you and i both know you’re not gonna pass.”

he dramatically places his hands over his heart, your notebook pressed against the logo of his hellfire shirt.

“ouch. you’re killing me over here.”

“a girl can dream,” you quip back, lunging to grab your notes so you can just go home. of course, he’s quicker than you, and tosses the journal back onto the table right as you swing foward.

you lose your balance and quickly brace yourself on the arms of the throne. you glance up and find the darkest of chocolate brown eyes boring into yours. your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily, causing eddie to break out a shit eating grin.

“so you do dream about me.” he replies with a cockiness that’s surprising even for him. you’re close enough that you can smell the faint aroma of tobacco on his breath and you can really see the length of his lashes. god, why was eddie munson so pretty? the realization makes your stomach flutter, churning with a feeling that’s never been associated with him before.

but then you remember that it’s eddie, and eddie’s only trying to see you cave before he does. you’re the only person he can rile up like nobody’s business and the feeling is more than mutual. you’ve got each other in equally vulnerable positions; it’s just a matter of who’s facade is going to crack first.

“you’re right.” you admit, your voice far more sheepish than he’s ever heard. it’s bordering submissive, something eddie’s not sure anyone has ever seen from you before. the notion goes straight to his crotch.

the corner of his mouth twitches. it eggs you on.

“i dream about you a lot.” your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean in even closer, palms planted firmly on either side of eddie. a cage of sorts that he’s seemingly fine with being trapped in.

you notice the way he’s fully leaning back now, removing his arms from beside yours to tuck them behind his head. it gives you a peak of some of his other tattoos, and a new angle of his biceps that will likely be the subject of your thoughts for the rest of the day.

“oh yeah?” he asks, voice an octave lower than before. “tell me about it.”

you tug your bottom lip between your teeth and eddie has to fight the urge to close the gap. your lips are nearly touching, hot breath fanning over each other’s cheeks as you feign innocence.

“we’re always in bed.” you continue, eyes flicking over eddie’s form. you can see the way he’s breathing a little faster, and you can definitely see the tent forming in his jeans. you look back up at his eyes and his pupils are nearly black.

you boldly dance your fingers up his torso. “sometimes you’re on top, sometimes i am.”

eddie prays you miss the way his cock twitches at the thought. he doesn’t want to imagine the ridicule he would face if your friends found out. it’s exactly what you’re aiming for.

in an effort to get his mojo back, he gently cups your jaw, tracing the outline of your cupid’s bow with his thumb. he moves it down to pull back your bottom lip, watching with intent eyes as the plush flesh snaps back into place.

heat pools between your legs, threatening to put a crack in your plan that’s very clearly working. but god, there’s such a satisfaction at watching eddie be wrapped around your finger, so entranced by whatever your next move is. you’ve gotta keep the upper hand.

“the best part though” you tease with a wicked grin, ghosting your lips over his.

eddie hums. he raises his brows defiantly, like he’s daring you to confess that you’ve been thinking about him the way he thinks about you. he doesn’t care if this is some stupid fucking back and forth. he wants to hear you say it.

when your hand trails back down and brushes over his crotch, he nearly loses it. you lean in beside his ear, offering a low sultry whisper. the boy’s eyes flutter shut, preparing for whatever’s coming next.

“is when i get to stick a pillow over your face.”

his eyes shoot back open in an instant.

you look like the cat who caught the canary. a devious, cheshire-like smile on your face as you slowly back away from him with your notebook in hand.

“smooth,” he deadpans, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt to distract from the now very obvious boner he has.

“sorry, sweetheart,” you mock him, returning to your original place at the other end of the room. “i’ve gotta fly.”

in a bold move, he asks, “does this mean i should swipe your stuff more often?”

your bravado falters for a moment at his question. then, it returns tenfold.

“you’re gonna have to find out.”

you saunter out of the drama room with a teasing salute, picking up your bag from it’s place by the door. eddie, flustered yet scorned, laughs out into the empty room. the sound reverberates off the walls and the empty soda cans still scattered on the table.

two can play at this game. you may have won this round, but there was plenty more coming .

he was so going to get you back.

thanks for reading! <3

[kettle-flakes]

k so slay the princess is rotting my brain but currently one big thought is chilling in my brain, and like- hear me out (sorry if my wording doesn't convey my thoughts well skskfjdjg)

but I don't think the damsel is entirely as shallow as some may see her as. HEAR ME OUT- compared to the other princesses, yes, she definitely more shallow. and she is also (at least when looking at deconstructed) poking fun at those trying to have an easy and work free romance route where the princess does whatever you like and loves you so, so much. i'm not saying she's supremely deep and that no one understands her but me, but I also don't think she exists solely to mock players with absolutely nothing to say about the nature of human permanence either.

does that make sense? more thoughts below- they're a bit disjointed though so warning ^^;

I personally think the damsel can also represent a very real form love, so to speak.

gimme a min to explain. I think what initially led me to this is a line from the narrator equating the smitten and the damsel to acting like teenagers in love. and that line sorta shifted my perspective a bit on her a little? seeing that kinda made me go "ohhhhhhh makes sense" like it really did remind me of two kids who don't entirely get what dating entails but still want to be together, and given the endgame sequence the damsel's section just kinda cemented this mindset for me.

for clarification the damsel has two(?) bits of dialog depending on whether she's deconstructed or not. If she isn't she says something along the lines of (iirc) "you had a desire and you set that desire free/not caring about what it took or costed you in the process" annnd?? like that's kinda wholesome to me?

like the damsel's love with the player isn't nearly as in depth, complicated, or complete as say the thorn, but it's a passionate love. it's also a naive love. the sort of love you'd find with, well, teenagers having a crush. of course when people get older they see those old crushes as frivolous and flat, but to the people experiencing them in the moment, it's real! it's serious! they were still willing to risk a lot just to be together. and at least at the start, you're willing to be killed by the princess if it means she's safe after having a battle of control against the narrator. it just reads as very human to me. they truly felt that their love could conquer anything.

I feel the thorn is a more 'adult' version of the damsel. it's that passionate love taking on a more mature form. it has more hardships to go through and way more pitfalls and mistakes that one can make compared to the more childish love like the damsel's. there's less theatrics and fanfare, and to me it feels more somber and quiet. it's a contrast between the high stakes emotion filled damsel, and the more intimate, tense, and self-aware thorn. ultimately in the end for both of them, they come to a realization that love is a powerful tool almost in a way that mirror each other.

some of the same occurrences leading up to the route are also shared between the two. like having the princess stab you in the prior route. I also think it's worth noting that in the thorn, the thistles can be seen as/can be referred to a prison of her own making. something she can leave if she was willing to make the effort to do so. it's similar to the damsel's shackles being easily slipped off her wrist. she could free herself.

also by extension, say what you will about the smitten but he loves the princess no matter what form she takes. even when she kills him he still adores her. he is content with being cooked alive by the princess if that's what she wants. i think he's a lot like the damsel in that sense. whatever she wants, she will have. if the damsel is molded to love the player, the smitten is absolutely molded to love the princess in the same way.

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Friends we made and annoyed along the way

Outlaw Sun: alright, precious bundle of thorns and roses, pack your bags. Your ransom has been paid for, you are free to go.

Y/N: what? You want me to leave? After everything we've been through together?

Outlaw Sun, blinking tiredly: you've proven yourself to be a greater menace than the entire criminal underworld combined. Not to mention all the costs of maintaining your needs, our bills have never been this big. Go home.

Y/N, theatrically throwing themselves into Sun's arms: what about our bond of eternal friendship?! We had a connection! Camaraderie! Fates entwined!

Outlaw Moon, snickering in the background: we could let them stay a few more days, Sun. Their charm and whimsy do sparkle akin to a constellation in the midnight sky of our grim lives.

Outlaw Sun, groaning: the authorities expect them to return by nightfall, how will we explain Y/N's absence?

Outlaw Moon: everything gets lost in shipping nowadays.

Y/N, making sad eyes: please? Pretty please with a cherry on top and whipped cream on the side?

Outlaw Moon, smiling slyly: come on, Sun. You can't say no to that.

Outlaw Sun, sighing in defeat, holding Y/N close and nuzzling their soft hair: you win this one, my rose garden. However, I want you to promise to behave.

Y/N, giggling and reaching to pull him into a gentle kiss: maybe if you get me that treat I just mentioned.

Outlaw Sun, grinning: cheeky little thing...

Outlaw Moon, making his way towards the kitchen: I shall fetch the treat. I expect to be equally rewarded with tender kisses when I return, my dearest constellation.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [1] - Thorns

A.N: Let’s start my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤ And thanks to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the story! ❤

Summary: First impressions can go either way.

Warnings: Mentions of unhappy family life and fighting, Regency era society and social rules.

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

You had never been to a circus before, but as much as you’d heard, you were quite certain it was similar to being introduced to the high society of London.

Extravagant clothes, announcements and performing tricks with a dash of danger.

If endless chatter and gossip and constant criticism fell under the category of danger, at least.

“Oh how I’m glad it’s over,” you murmured as the carriage slowed down, then came to a stop in front of your house. “It’s almost a blessing one only debuts once if you ask me.”

“My dearest, come on now,” your aunt said with a small smile. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Not for me, no,” you admitted. “If anything it was dull, but I saw multiple ladies with tears in their eyes.”

The door of the carriage opened and you stepped out of it, then looked behind you to see the coachman helping your aunt out of the carriage as well. She linked her arm with yours before you both started walking towards the house down the stone road.

“Tears in their eyes?” she repeated. “Surely not. Who?”

“One of the Featherington sisters.”

“The one who tripped and fell in front of the queen?” she asked. “You could hardly blame her.”

“And um…what’s the name of the girl with those huge earrings?”

“Miss Grant?”

You snapped your fingers, “Yes, her,” you said as you slowly climbed up the stairs with her and entered the house. “You’d think being named the diamond is a matter of life or death, with the way people are acting.”

“I’m glad you brought it up actually,” she said as she gave her coat to the maid by the door. “Because I’ve heard—”

“Oh the glorious warriors are back from the battlefield it seems!” your uncle’s voice boomed through the hallway and you couldn’t help but smile slightly at his theatrics. Your aunt shook her head fondly, and looked up at the mezzanine where your uncle was leaning to the stair rails. He gave you a big smile and you and your aunt went up the marble stairs to reach him.

“My Clover,” he hugged you. “Was it terrible?”

You heaved a dramatic sigh. “More than you could imagine, uncle.”

He hummed, that playful glimmer shining in his eyes. “Was there blood?”

Your aunt gasped. “Howard!”

“What? I know how vicious ladies can be when they want to have more suitors than others dear,” he kissed your aunt’s cheek and she patted his arm.

“There wasn’t any blood but some tears,” you pointed out. “Much to my disappointment. I’d love to see people claw each other’s eyes out.”

“Oh you two…” your aunt said and entered the drawing room with you two following her. You took out the multiple feathers from your hair and tossed them on the coffee table.

“Where’s Teddy?”

“With his tutor,” your uncle said. “So? Am I in the presence of the diamond of the season?”

You scoffed. “Thankfully no.”

“That’s what I was saying though!” your aunt said. “I’ve heard some ladies say they were convinced you would be the diamond when they saw you. And her majesty took her time inspecting you, did she not? Y/N, if only you smiled a little in the ballroom …”

You made a face and shook your head.

“No no,” you said. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Daphne Bridgerton being the diamond makes sense. She’s more beautiful and talented and educated and all that, she was basically born and raised to be the diamond. I learned how to play the piano about two years ago, and the only time I would do it willingly is if I ever wanted to torment somebody. Besides, I’m not—” you paused for a moment, then cleared your throat.

“I’m really not interested in being the diamond,” you managed to say. “More trouble than it’s worth.”

They exchanged glances and your uncle nodded.

“We’re happy if you’re happy, Clover.”

You offered him a tiny smile and stood up.

“Well I’ll change and go to the garden,” you said. “Send for me if you need anything?”

“Will do!”

You made your way upstairs to quickly change your gown and went downstairs again. Grabbing your gardening apron and tools from the small closet by the door, you stepped out of the house and made your way to the flower gardens. You put on the apron and put down the basket, then got on your knees to inspect a rose, frowning slightly before grabbing the pruning shears and getting to work.

You had always loved tending to gardens. Ever since you were a child, it had given you more joy than anything else, planting flowers and watching them grow, it was in fact the only happy memory you had of your childhood. Perhaps it was because it gave you an excuse to stay out of the house, but whatever the reason was, you had always stayed outside, spending hours in the tiny garden you could call your own back home.

More often than not, your older sister would join you. It wasn’t as if she was interested in gardening, at least not like you were, but perhaps she too sought for some peace and quiet, and it was impossible to find it in the house where your parents were. Almost every moment consisted of a fight, things thrown around, and sooner or later either you or her would get involved in it, and be subjected to the fury of your mother or your father, whoever was the closest.

So, staying outside was safer.

In a way, you and your sister had both found a way to stay safe later on in life. She had eloped three years ago with your help, and only a couple of months later your aunt and uncle had visited your parents’ house and had a long talk with your father about letting you and your little brother Teddy stay with them. They had no kids, and since it would mean that your mother and father would have two less mouths to feed, they had agreed quite fast.

Especially when your uncle had mentioned money.

You were quite certain you would always be in your uncle and aunt’s debt. Even though both of them claimed otherwise, it would have made more sense for them to take Teddy, since he was a boy and could be their heir and easily leave you behind in that hell, but they had done no such a thing and made sure to treat you and Teddy like their own.

They were the only parents Teddy could remember.

And you?

As far as you were concerned, your birth parents were dead.

“Y/N!” A gleeful scream made you turn your head and you dropped the shears before Teddy threw himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck, and thankfully you’d had enough practice at catching him mid-air in the last couple of years so even though your whole body tilted back for a moment, you quickly regained your balance.

“Hello there!” you said, a big smile warming your face as you hugged him back. “What did we talk about sudden movements and sharp objects little man?”

He pulled back, giving you a huge grin.

“Did you trip in front of the Queen?”

You let out a small laugh. “Who told you that? Uncle?”

“He said someone always trips,” he said, excitement laced in his tone. “Did you?”

You shook your head and dropped your voice as if giving him a secret.

“Not me but someone tripped and fell down.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Mm hm.”

“Then what happened?” he asked. “Is she in prison now?”

You bit back a smile. “No Teddy, no one goes to prison for that.”

“Even if it happened in front of the Queen?”

“Even then,” you said and wrapped your arms around him as he sat down to look at the flowers better.

“How was your day?”

“Boring,” he pouted. “Mr. Langdon says I must study harder.”

You hummed. “You know the rules,” you told him. “You want to be the smartest boy in Eton, do you not? When it’s time for you to go there—”

“I don’t want to go to Eton,” he cut you off and you pulled back to look at him better.

“Why not?”

“I’d miss you,” he mumbled, reaching you to touch the flowers and you felt your heart drop to your stomach at the idea of him going away all on his own. You heaved a sigh and opened your mouth to disagree, but then a tiny four leaf clover caught your sight, making you tilt your head.

This was also one of the reasons why your sister used to call you her lucky clover. Somehow, you managed to find those more than any other gardener.

You reached out to rip it, then held it up for Teddy to see, making him gasp.

“It has four leaves!”

“It does,” you said and put the tiny clover into the pocket on the lapel of his jacket. “See? It’ll bring you luck, in here or in Eton.”

He grinned at you and looked down at the clover.

“And,” you said, making him lift his head. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter where you are. Nothing could ever change that, alright?”

He paused for a moment and nodded fervently.

“Wonderful,” you said and reached inside the basket to pull out another pair of gloves. “Now, what do you say you help me with this?”

                                             *

Of course everything that had happened in the Queen’s presence had found its way to Whistledown’s gossip columns, and the whole ton was buzzing with the expectation of the balls and social gatherings to come. You would be lying if you said you shared the sentiment, you’d much rather stay at home and deal with your garden, but this was the issue with having debuted, considering how your uncle and aunt were prominent members of the ton, you now had to join any and every social outing within the season, formal or not so formal.

Hence where you were now.

Lady Bridgerton had invited some of the new debutantes and their families for tea, probably to celebrate Daphne’s new status but to socialize as well.

In your opinion, this was nothing but an attempt to make horses become familiar with each other before putting them on the race tracks but your aunt was very excited about it, so of course you said you would go but now that you were here, you couldn’t wait to go back home. The Bridgerton house was beautiful, and Lady Bridgerton was quite nice but the rest of the guests?

Dear God, this was almost as much of a torment as listening to your own tune on the piano.

You made your way to the huge table to grab a glass of lemonade, ignoring the whispers coming from the circle of ladies on the other side of table but when one of them giggled, you turned your head to look at them. The girl stopped whispering with her friends and shot you a slight grin.

“So which one of them are you here for?”

You furrowed your brows and looked down at the lemonade in your hand.

“There are different types?”

“No, silly!” she said. “Which of the Bridgerton brothers are you here for?”

Your frown deepened. “What?”

“Oh none of them of course!” the other girl said. “Irene, stop getting her hopes up.”

You tilted your head. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m Kitty,” the girl introduced herself. “You’ve probably heard about me. Anyway, don’t get me wrong of course but I’ve heard some things about you, that you grew up quite poor until your uncle took you and your brother in so it’s better not to get your hopes up.”

You arched a brow, keeping your gaze on her.

“They say the Viscount won’t get married so if you’re hoping to get him, I’d forget about that plan right now.”

The Vis—

Ah.

Right, you had seen him talking to Daphne when you were leaving the court and quite frankly, you weren’t impressed.

Not that you thought you could be impressed by anyone’s looks.

“Not to worry, you can have him,” you said. “I’m not interested.”

Kitty and Irene exchanged glances and Kitty let out a scoff.

“Oh you’re after Benedict Bridgerton?” she asked. “The second son? That’s hopeless as well. Don’t even make any plans for it, the competition is too high and some say his attention has already been claimed.”

“Devastating,” you said with a completely straight face but it seemed to have gone over her head.

“And if you want to get Colin—”

“Are you planning on listing their whole family tree?” you cut her off. “Did you memorize it in your free time?”

Her jaw dropped and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not jesting by the way, everyone needs a past time activity, yours just happens to be a strange one.”

A small chuckle reached your ears and you turned your glances to the two other girls standing close to you, one with red hair and one brunette.

“Eloise,” Kitty said. “And Penelope. How are you on this fine day?”

The brunette grinned.

“I’ve been better,” she said. “So have you, I suppose.”

Kitty gritted her teeth and Irene turned to you.

“Is it true you’re unable to smile?” she asked and you frowned.

“What?”

“Everyone says so,” she said. “That you have an illness of the sort. You can’t smile even if you want to.”

You stared at her for a moment, then took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes,” you said. “It’s true.”

She pulled back slightly. “Really?”

“I don’t like to talk about it,” you said. “It was so unexpected. The tragedy struck when I was six years old, the doctors haven’t been able to find a cure or a cause since then. I don’t even remember how it feels to be able to smile to be honest with you.”

Her mouth opened agape in shock.

“And the worst part is,” you said. “The doctors fear it might be contagious.”

Irene gasped and grabbed Kitty’s arm, then pulled her to walk away from you to the other side of the room. You rolled your eyes and one of the girls let out a small chuckle.

“That was good,” she commented and the redhead repressed a laugh.

“She will tell everyone you were not nice to her though, just so you know.”

“I’m not interested in being nice,” you muttered and the brunette smiled.

“I respect that,” she said. “I’m Eloise Bridgerton and this is Penelope Featherington.”

“Lovely to meet you,” you said after introducing yourself and out of the corner of your eye you saw Daphne approaching the table.

“Hello,” she smiled at you brightly before turning to Eloise. “Eloise, where is Benedict?”

“With Lottie I’m guessing. They both disappeared.”

“How shocking,” Daphne said. “Mama wants to see you.”

Eloise heaved a sigh and nodded at you, then she and Penelope walked away. Daphne turned to you.

“Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” you said. “And congratulations by the way, for being the diamond of the season.”

“Thank you!” she said, that bright smile lighting up her face again. “Some people say the Queen also considered you, I hope you do not resent me.”

You waved a hand in the air.

“Ah no I could never be the diamond, there’s nothing to resent,” you said. “Besides that’s just a rumor. The Queen was probably thinking about something else, I just happened to be there. You deserve that title much more than me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh it is,” you said. “I assure you.”

She tilted her head.

“We’re all going to take turns to play tunes on the piano in a moment,” she said. “Would you like to play as well?”

“Depends,” you deadpanned. “Do you want to make sure everyone leaves in a hurry? Because that’s my musical talent.”

Daphne stared at you, then covered her mouth to hide her laugh.

“It is a talent nonetheless.”

“One that would prove to be useful against unwanted guests if you have any in here.”

“You have no idea,” she whispered but before she could say anything else, you both heard her name being called. She heaved a sigh.

“I must go,” she said. “But thank you for the conversation.”

“Anytime,” you said and watched her leave, then downed your lemonade. You had to leave before somehow your aunt came up with the bright idea of you sitting in front of that piano, and in your humble opinion this was enough socializing to last you for a day. You made your way to your aunt and touched her arm.

“I’m going back home auntie.”

“Oh?” she asked. “Already?”

“I drank too much lemonade I think, my stomach feels strange.”

“Oh I can—”

“You don’t have to come with me, Paula can chaperone me back home,” you cut her off. “She was with the other maids in the garden the last I saw her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you said, “I will see you home?”

“Yes my dear,” she said and you kissed her cheek, then thanked Lady Bridgerton on your way out of the drawing room and stepped out to the hallway. You let out a relieved breath and stretched out, all your muscles sore from you being so tense since the moment you had arrived. You rubbed at your eyes, wondering whether your maid was still in the garden but before you could lower your hands a door opened and you crashed into a hard body with a gasp and the person grabbed you by the arm, making your head snapped up.

The man in front of you was tall, much taller than you. His waistcoat fit him perfectly, and you had a chance to glimpse at his muscular arms as he pulled you upright to help you regain your balance allowing you to see his face better. He was very handsome, there was no denying that, with bright blue eyes and black hair, along with a faint smile adorning his lips—

Alright.

Perhaps you could be impressed by someone’s looks then.

You paused only for a moment before you snapped out of your haze and your anger at yourself burned through you for even letting such a nonsense thought catch you off guard. He stared at you, his mouth slightly agape as if he was in the same haze as you were but you narrowed your eyes, glaring at him.

“Watch your step,” you nearly growled and a look of confusion crossed his handsome face, making him blink in silence a couple of times.

“…It’s—it’s my house?” he said slowly as if trying to see whether you were jesting. “I live here.”

You shrugged your shoulders, still glaring at him and he took a deep breath as if deciding to clear out any misunderstanding.

“I’m Benedict Bridgerton.”

Ah.

Well, that made sense. No wonder the competition was high—

From an objective stance, that was.

“Congratulations,” you deadpanned and a small giggle reached your ears, making Benedict turn to glare at the closed door behind him.

And that was probably the girl who had ‘claimed his attention’ as they put it. Not that you would be troubling yourself with it.

“Um— what about you?” he asked as he turned to you again. “What’s your name?”

You raised your brows. “Why?”

“To repeat, because you are in my house.”

“So are a lot of other ladies,” you said and pointed back with your thumb. “They are waiting for you in the drawing room.”

He grimaced as if the mere thought caused him pain. “Are they really?”

“My heartfelt sorrows for the hardships waiting for you, may you find a solace of some sort.”

“You don’t sound to be in sorrow.”

“This is how I sound in sorrow,” you pointed out drily and he seemed almost amused as he tilted his head.

“Will you really refuse to tell me your name?”

“That’s not important information,” you said and walked past him, the faint scent of his cologne mixing into your breath and you bit down on your lip, then started making your way downstairs.

“Why not?” he called out and you scoffed.

“I doubt we will ever talk to each other again Mr. Bridgerton,” you called back, your heels echoing on the marble of the foyer before you walked out of the house, not even looking back.

Chapter 2

[pparadiselost]

ordinary.

suna rintaro x fem reader suna is no one special to you, but he doesn't mind. warning(s): nsfw, hate sex, slight revenge porn, being filmed without consent, suna spanks you once, sexual transaction minors do not interact.

the night presses against you in a tight hug, its smoky arms palming against your body. you don’t like venturing out when the night has gotten so thick that it seems to take on a life of its own, pulsing and breathing and stretching out as far as the naked human eye can see. it makes you reconcile with how truly weak you are, no better than a newly born deer wobbling on its shaky legs as it stares down uncertainty right in the face.

you want to believe you’re better than a newly born animal, above the vulnerability and practically lying in wait for a predator to come by and steal its life. but your conscience seems to scream otherwise as you trudge through the dimly lit parking lot and up to the singular car parked there. you blame the late hour to explain why this area is so devoid of people; gymnasiums like the one you’re at are normally bustling with life. it feels wrong, it feels forbidden, to see its barrenness like this and to realize that this world is a lot bigger than you want to give it credit for.

you are a fool, no better than the same deer that runs straight into the road, you decide as you tap impatiently on the closed windows of the car. you muster up a scowl onto your face as the person on the driver’s side rolls the windows down, and his familiar features flood your eyes.

disgusting. 

“you’re the only person in the world that would have the nerve to call me out here when it’s this late,” you seethe, the aggression in your voice and face dripping off of you in hissing waves. “and all because you can’t keep your dick in check.”

the man in front of you keeps his placid yet narrowed eyes. his countenance remains unreadable as always, and you’re the only one in the whole wide universe that can pick up the slight annoyance that boils behind his theatrically calm demeanor. he squashes his lips into a thin line, and while he looks utterly displeased to see you as well, he doesn’t respond right away to you. 

he moves forward to prop the phone in his hand against a little device on his dashboard that keeps it upright, the lit-up screen facing him. he taps at it for a little bit, nothing too important that you’d care enough to find it out what. 

he simply rolls his windows back up before his deft fingers unlock the car doors for you, and you huff to yourself. he jerks the handle of his seat, and he yanks the driver’s seat as far back as it’ll go, granting you enough room to climb in once you open the door.

“and you actually showed up. i feel like that says more about you than it does about me.” his words are carefully picked, disguised thorns that nip and wound your ankles. you two can go back and forth for days, sharpening and picking out the most heinous of words to hurl at each other, but with him beckoning for you to step into the night and with you following him ardently, you spare him your insults.

suna rintaro. 

even his name feels like bitter coals against your tongue. unlike delicious foodstuffs that make you want to savor the taste, to roll it against the inside of your cheeks and to melt with it, everything about this man makes you bristle with hate.

“i’m only here because you said you’d help me.” the car becomes far more cramped the moment you slide inside, facing him and your back to the small device holding suna’s phone for him. you don’t press yourself up against suna’s body immediately, opting to keep as much distance as you can between yourself and him. you can only look so dignified with your back and head cramped up against the ceiling of the car, and you exhale disappointedly.

suna leans back languidly in the driver’s seat. he still has his volleyball uniform on, the words ‘ejp raijin’ stretched across his broad chest. “and what if i was lying? what would you do then?”

“you wouldn’t lie to me. i know we don’t get along, but that just means i know you better than i’d like to. you’re filthy and awful and scummy, but you aren’t a liar.” you’re not entirely sure if your words are true, but you’re too prideful to admit that he could lure you so easily to him for a booty call. you’re willing to gamble on his goodwill for once. 

“not too shabby. you must really like him, if you’re willing to drop everything and come out here to fuck me.” suna breaks out into a cold smile, and your prediction seems to be right. the man in front of you stretches out the word ‘him’ as if to mock you, and his smile widens a tad. “don’t you find it funny? that you’re fucking another man to get closer to your crush?”

“quit talking before i slap your mouth off,” you mutter. you shouldn’t let him provoke you, not when he’s right. you can’t find another way to describe him other than the fact that you hate him with every fiber of your being.

you can’t help but compare him to your crush. your man-that’s-not-quite-your-man, your oblivious prince charming that needed just a little bit of a push to start taking an interest in you, the best friend to none other than the very man you wish spades upon every waking moment of your life. 

“hey, i can’t set you up with atsumu if you hurt me like that.” he motions for you to come closer to him, and suna wiggles his uniform pants off, gripping his cock and freeing it from his boxers. you leer at him through the barely existent lighting that peers through the windows. he slides his shirt off, giving you a generous view of his broad chest and abs. you purposefully choose not to admire him. 

it’s not like the first time suna’s demanded something like this from you, and it’s not the first time you’ve complied. you’ve asked him to do the same multiple times. it’s unfortunate that the two of you hate each other so much, especially when your existences are so convenient for the other. 

and leave it to suna to take advantage of the fact that you’re madly in love with his old high school teammate and to mockingly play wingman for you in exchange for sex. where atsumu is shining, beautiful, and exceptional in every way, suna is the opposite. he couldn’t charm you even if his life depended on it, and everything, from his deadpan face to his outlook on life, about him is just so normal. he’s plain. he’s truly a john doe through and through to you, and it infuriates you that he has the gutsiness to demand something like this. 

you don’t get down on your knees to suck his cock. instead you come closer, and in one swift movement, you slide your shirt over your head. tossing it over to the passenger’s seat, you undo your bra and throw it to the side as well. suna’s usually unfeeling eyes widen at the sight of your bare breasts, and you crawl onto his lap. placing a hand next to his head and onto the driver’s seat, you steady yourself on top of him.

“let’s make ourselves clear here. i don’t want you to take advantage of me, and i’m sure you don’t want lackluster sex either. we can put our differences aside for this much, yeah?” your voice sounds a lot more sultry than you’d like it to be, and something deep inside your stomach burns. his cock hovers between the two of you, almost as if waiting for you to take your pants and underwear off so you can sink fully onto it.

“i thought our terms were clear enough already.” suna’s face crumples into a sour scowl. he scoffs, “you have sex with me, and i set you up with atsumu. that’s all there is, right?”

you grab one of suna’s wrists, and you bring it to your chest, shaping his palm to cup your breasts. “i just wanted to make sure. i didn’t want this to be some elaborate ploy of yours to humiliate me.”

“if i wanted to humiliate you, i’d find a better way to do it. this is so uncreative. i’m not as stupid as you think i am, missy.” the man starts to grope your tits, his thumbs pressing and passing over your nipples. you swallow back a pleasured sigh as the first few telltale jolts of arousal flicker like weak candlelight in your core. you frown at the pet name he hurls at you as if it were a weapon. he smiles wryly to himself as both of his hands fully massage your chest, your plush flesh filling up the wide expanses of his palms perfectly. “i genuinely just want sex because i’m horny, and you’re a convenient hole for me to fuck. you’re so fucking desperate to get atsumu’s attention that it’s almost pitiful to watch.”

you grit your teeth as suna pinches your nipples gently, his pointed eyes meeting yours in sync as if he’s waiting to watch you crumble and moan under his touch. he’s going to have to do a lot more if he thinks he can break you that easily. instead you lower your hips slightly until the tip of his cock is pressed up against your clothed crotch. you hear him suck in a harsh breath when you rub your hips against his dick, grinding down on him ever so slightly. 

“if you wanted sex, why not hit up one of your groupies? or, i don’t know, take advantage of one of your diehard fans. i know for sure that i’m not the only person you have on call like this.” you’re making it a point to tease him, only rubbing back and forth on his dick a little to rile him up. you can see the veins in suna’s neck start to strain against his skin, and he swallows heavily. your lips curl into a sickeningly fake smile. “do you have a crush on me or something, suna?”

“in your fucking dreams,” he mutters. in retaliation, he twists your nipples harshly, and you cry out in pain. he keeps pulling at your hardened buds, the sting and the pleasure of having your nipples tugged making you jerk uncontrollably against his lap. a loud hiss escapes from the volleyball player, and scalding hot pleasure flashes through his abs. “don’t think so highly of yourself. the only specific reason why i called you here is because i want you to ride me like the cock hungry slut you are. i want to see you bounce up and down on my cock, to fucking cum all over it, to make a mess out of yourself and moan my name all while pretending that you’re having sex with me to get to another man.”

you force back a laugh. “you have a weird fetish, suna.”

“say what you want.” one of his hands let go of your chest and fly up to your face. he grips your cheeks and drags you down to where his face is. “kiss me.”

your lips collide with his. he tries to shove his tongue into your mouth when he gets the chance to, but you rebuke him. instead, you bite down on his lower lip, smirking into the violent kiss when you hear suna grunt. you can feel your teeth marks engraved into the soft tissue of his mouth, and you know they’re going to hurt for a while. only then do you let suna stick his tongue down your throat. it’s sloppy, messy, and loud, with him kneading at your tits as if he wants to rip them off and you playing with his cock, denying him the full pleasure he wants.

your lungs strain, needing air. you wrench yourself away from suna to breathe, and suna only grants you a few inhales before he’s back on you again, lips refusing to merge into a coherent rhythm and spit flying everywhere between the two of you. god, such a thing would be so fucking hot if it were literally any other man, but the only thing you have to fool the second pulse that thrums in your insides is the hope that you’ll be doing this with someone you actually love soon enough.

“fucking hell-,” suna grumbles in between kisses, “you even kiss like a whore.”

“and you like it. your dick’s still really hard, you dog.” you push at his shoulders, forcibly separating yourself from him again. it’s hard for the both of you to keep at it like this, but your respective prides refuse to back down. you can see the hazy gloss that’s taking over suna’s eyes and the barely visible flush of his cheeks, and you can envision the itch that’s consuming his body, his cock screaming at him to quit the theatrics and to just fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.

you’re not much better too. your body keeps heating up as if you’ve caught a fever, and your insides burn with need. you need something big and thick stuffed into you fast, otherwise you’re going to do something you regret because you need dick so badly. you let suna yank your pants down, the wetness that follows your underwear from your cunt making your chest stir.

he maneuvers you out of them until you’re completely naked in front of him. there’s nothing hiding you from his gaze now, nothing other than the dark protection of the night. his cock twitches, eager at the thought of burying itself into your slick walls.

“do you have any condoms on you?” you ask, getting ready to lean back and dig one out from his glove box compartment. “i didn’t bring any since you called me out on such short notice.”

“fuck me without one.” 

you stop dead in your tracks. you whirl back towards him, glaring at him with barely contained rage. “fuck you raw? have you actually lost your fucking mind, suna? no! fucking you without any protection is a recipe for disaster.”

at the best, he might brag to his teammates that you let him hit it raw. at the worst… you vehemently shook your head. you didn’t even want to think about it.

“what? fine, if you don’t want to fuck me, then so be it. there’s a whole line of other girls who’ll be happy to get the opportunity to get to know atsumu more closely. surely you didn’t think that you’d be the only one?” the sly grin suna tosses back to you is nothing short of fox-like. your fingers itch to wrap themselves around his throat and strangle him to death right there and then for trapping you in a place like this. maybe seeing his lifeless body splayed out in front of you would do something to quell the boiling anger that threatens to spill out and snap your bones. 

your lips quiver slightly. you don’t want to weigh the options. well, it was more like suna wasn’t going to give you the illusion of choosing to begin with—you make a mental note to find a pharmacy and to fork over whatever money needed for morning-after contraception the very instant you’re done with this fiasco.

you crawl back to where you were and position yourself above his cock. you don’t need a fancy overture or anything, not when the shame that stirs in your stomach like a big snake hurts more than the physical reality. suna inhales deeply when his cockhead pushes past your folds. you’re not going to let him off so easily.

bracing your thighs, you lower yourself just the slightest bit. you steady your breathing as his pre-cum smeared tip makes it past your hole, stretching out the tight ring of muscle. suna’s eyes are fixed in between your hips, right where your cunt meets his length. he’s expecting you to sink down all the way, to take him to the hilt and feel his size throbbing and invading every little nook of your insides, waiting for your inner walls to squeeze around him and commit the shape of his thick length to memory.

except you don’t.

you lift yourself again, only letting the head of his cock enter you. frustration and confusion runs across suna’s face as you continue, slowly repeating the bobbing motion with your hips. you’re sure it’s driving suna wild: being deprived of the pleasure he had expected would fall into place so easily, with only such a small part of his cock being granted entry into your warm, wet walls. you’ve never seen suna look so angry, and it makes some sick part of you sing with happiness.

“oh, you’re fucking kidding me…,” he exhales. he’s calm about it; even when driven to such extreme emotion, he refuses to fully lash out at you. you’d tease him for being such a gentleman if you were in any place to talk.

“i’m not. patience is a virtue, suna. i’m getting to it.” it’s only half of a lie. you do fully intend on fucking suna properly, but it wouldn’t hurt to let him sample the acrid burn of shame as well. not entirely a taste of his own medicine, but it’s enough to satisfy you.

suna’s hands latch themselves to your hips. his eyes flare with fury, barely containing himself. “i’m going to be nice just this once. you either ride me properly, or i’ll make you fucking regret it. i’m not the kind of man to be toyed with.”

heat coils all around you from the inside out. you want it, you want to fuck him, you want to have a better feel of the dick that’s right underneath you. your body needs it, to feel the delicious stretch of a nice thick cock pushing you to your limit, the kind of dicking that leaves you breathless and brainless all the same. but it’s suna you’re talking about, and you’d eat rocks than hand anything over to him this easily.

“i should be the one saying that. you’re the one that has the audacity to ask for raw sex.” your words are pointed and punctuated. the corner of his mouth twitches slightly, almost like he wants to retort right back in your face, but he stops himself.

“fine. have it your way,” he says plainly, “but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

you don’t even have time to gloat over your momentarily won victory over your nemesis. suna, mustering all of his strength, the muscles he’s built and torn down and refined from the countless time he’s spent pouring himself into volleyball, grips your hips and forcibly pushes you down all the way on his cock.

“huh- wait-!!”

the intrusion wipes your mind entirely blank. you don’t have the brainpower to muster a full fledged scream. your voice extinguishes like a light blown out on the tip of your tongue. your body feels like it’s being ripped into two, your pussy being shoved outwards but also caving in on itself all at once. you stiffen and freeze in his hold, your hole rendered utterly unable to adjust to the thickness and the length that’s been fucked into you in one fell swoop.

it’s cloud nine for suna. he ensures that you can’t move from his firm grip before he lets himself relish the feeling of your stupidly addictive cunt squelching and clenching all around him. he loves this moment, the first few seconds of properly penetrating you. you yap too much for your own good, but good god, your cunt always sucks him in and flutters all around him as if you’re a virgin taking cock for the first time.

it’s enough to have him crawling back, as much as he hates to admit it. it’s a good thing that you’re not fully aware of how much control you have over this man. he’d hate it if the precarious dynamic that the two of you have were to tip over all in your favor. he hates feeling such animosity towards someone to begin with, but he hates losing even more. 

“hurts- t-take it out- ‘t’s too big…!” big hot teardrops are already obscuring your vision, the pain shooting and taking root deep in your gut. the fact that the pain feels good makes it even worse. you shouldn’t be getting off to this, not to the fact that suna just pushed you down all the way on his shaft without any prep. 

he instead moves to bury his head into the crook of your neck. his lips are right by your ear, and you can feel his breathing. steady in the rhythm but shaky, savoring the ephemeral sensation of his dick irrevocably and undeniably dominating your sweet hole. he just laughs mockingly, “i warned you. now you’re going to be good and take it. don’t make this harder for yourself than it has to be.”

you whimper, a few fat tears falling from your face and landing in the darkness below. you grip onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his toned muscle as if that would do anything to anchor you. the throbbing pain in your cunt is becoming a little more bearable as your walls loosen up and take him in. you’re thankful that suna had made out with you before; the lubrication from being turned on from that must have been a lifesaver.

a strangled cry dies out on your lips as he starts moving his own hips, thrusting upwards into your hole. you weakly rock yourself in rhythm with him, trying to take your mind off of the humiliation that seeps in like a water leak by deluding yourself into thinking that the pleasure will outweigh the pain. 

“there we go. that’s more like it. i like you so much more when you’re being agreeable for once. it’s such a shame that i have to take such violent means to get you to behave.” suna’s adam’s apple bobs. you bounce yourself shamelessly on his dick, sucking him in all the way without any resistance now that your walls have been blown out already. it’s beyond euphoric. suna wishes modern science could invent a fleshlight that’s a carbon copy of your pussy already. 

his mouth latches onto one of your tits, and his tongue wraps around your nipple as he sucks at your chest. he loves having free range on your body like this, knowing that you’re too helpless to do anything about it. you grit your teeth for what feels like the millionth time tonight. the tipsy pleasure that dances about your midriff is trickling dangerously up to your head, threatening to push out any of the thoughts that linger in your head. 

“y-you’re the worst-,” you sob out. you wish you had the strength to at least be mean back to him. instead, you sound so weak and frail, shockwaves of heat and embarrassment pooling in your core. your arousal sloshes around inside of you. it’s no better than a glass of water that’s filled to the brim, just waiting for the little extra bit to be poured in to have it tip over. 

“ah, ah, that’s not what i want to hear,” suna snarls. his eyes flash at you with such readied hostility that you unconsciously clench up around him. “fuck—shit! did you like that? fucking hell, you’re even worse than i thought.”

you claw at his shoulders. “shut up, shut up…!”

“use your nice words, since you want to act like such a brat. what are you, a child? don’t you know how adults talk to each other? i mean, look at us. we’re having sex in my car. i really don’t think it gets any more adult than this.” he thrusts up harshly into you, and you recoil immediately. your back arches, and your spine is assaulted with tingles. he’s going to break you, fuck your pussy beyond the point of no return, mold it fully to the selfish shape of his cock.

god, that can’t happen, you can’t have that happening. you can’t lose out to him this easily. not when you have someone else you want to give your heart to, not when the man underneath you is someone who wants to rip you until you’re nothing but an unraveled spool of thread and dirtied stuffing.

“...feels good-,” you choke out the words as if you’re coughing up blood. “it feels good… y-your cock is making me feel good, suna…!”

“rintaro-,” he cuts you off. for the first time, you see the way his face melts into a genuine smile. it’s sinister and ugly, and your stomach both cringes in disgust and purrs with delight. “-call me by my first name. c’mon, moan it with that sweet voice of yours.”

you hate how easily he can toy with intimacy like this. you aren’t one of those prudish romantics who believe strictly in waiting for ‘the one’ to do anything special, but god, you also  hate cynical people like him that can throw things around like it means nothing. you whimper and mewl, your toes curling as he keeps fucking himself into you. the tip of his cock prods deeper and deeper, spearing your body mercilessly on his inches. 

he’s already dangerously close to your deepest parts, ghosting over the place that makes you see stars and lose your mind. you sniff back your tears, and the tightness in your chest won’t undo itself. you pause, hesitating on whether or not you can sell parts of your heart like that.

“i said-,” the man raises his hand, “-moan my first name.”

“eek!” you scream as he smacks your ass, the brunt of his big palm brought down hard against the soft curves of your behind. the cold realization that settles in on you is almost enough to bring you back down to reality.

he hit you. 

he laid a hand on you. 

he spanked you. 

“r-rintaro…!” the syllables feel weird and jumbly in your mouth, and your voice doesn’t sound like your own as you cave and bend to his will. your cunt greedily takes his cock in, loving the friction of his thickness sliding in and out of you wildly. you’re so far gone from the conflicting feelings inside you as you ride him. he’s so goddamn thick and big, and the sex is just too, too good to be real.

he grins again, and with how the darkness shrouds part of his face, he looks particularly unpredictable. “what a good girl. i wish there was a way for me to show you what you look like right now. you look absolutely fucked. do you like my cock that much?”

you want to shake your head no. you desperately want to answer him in the negative. but his hands shift just the slightest bit, and the still tingling sting from being hit by him has you flinching. you rock your hips a bit further, and when his cock is buried all the way deep inside of you, you expertly grind down back and forth on his dick, making sure your tight walls are properly milking him. it nets you a drawn out groan from suna. so he’s feeling good.

“love the way your cock feels, s- rintaro-,” you barely catch your mistake. tears stain your face, and you’re glad for how dark it is. suna did just tease you about your appearance, but the night lets you conceal yourself somewhat, consoling your wounded heart. “it feels so good inside me… m-my pussy loves the way your cock makes me feel-”

“yeah?” he quips at you. he licks up the side of your neck, and you shudder, clenching your eyes shut. the tip of his tongue traces the outline of your quivering lips, not quite catching your mouth into a kiss, but it leaves you shuddering in dread and in excitement all the same. your body’s so drunk off of the sex, constantly demanding more of his cock, to feel even more of it prodding against your insides and rearranging your guts. your hole craves and fiends for the way he splits you open, stretching you out to the point that you can’t get your priorities straight. 

“want it- wanna feel more of you, rintaro…!” your mouth and brain are spouting different things at the same time. your skin crawls with disgust as suna touches you, his fingers teetering on the edge of either violence or intimacy, your own mouth whispering love to him while you barely conceal your fangs. “fuck me more…! faster, harder, anything!”

he lets out an airy snort, almost like he’s laughing. “that’s more like it. pretty girls like you ought to say prettier things. about fucking time that you quit playing tough. you’re really no better than i am, aren’t you? you’d do anything for my cock, wouldn’t you?”

“anything!” you latch onto his words. you moan loudly when his cockhead prods at your womb. the pleasure and the shivers it gives you electrifies your brain, and it has you melting at the heat. you don’t even feel entirely human in that moment, more like an amalgamation of emotions and desires, taking on the form of a physical puppet of bone and flesh. but it’s a puppet for suna to play with as he pleases, bringing your hips down harder and harder against his thighs, relishing the way your drenched cunt squelches and makes all sorts of lewd noises from being stirred up by his cock.

“keep praising me. don’t you even think about stopping. i want to hear about how you can’t live without my cock, how you need to fuck it every night, how it’s the only thing that can make you cum. you can do that much for me, yeah? you wanna cum from my cock, don’t you?” his words swim through your ears. 

you’re far gone. your juices have leaked out all over your lower lips and legs, and they drip down all over suna’s legs as well. how aroused are you? how close are you to cumming? your pussy won’t quit clamping down on his length as you ride him like your life depends on it. up, down, up, down, at such a desperate, animalistic pace that your world spins. 

you nod, clinging to suna. “wanna cum- wanna cum so badly- wanna cum on your cock, rintaro! i don’t wanna cum on anyone else’s cock- only your cock! my pussy only feels good if it’s you, don’t ever wanna fuck any other cock…!”

“that’s my girl. get hooked on it all you want.” he kisses you, and you can vaguely feel the corners of lips rising into a selfish smirk. his hips thrust up into yours, and your stomach coils in on itself. it’s so fucking hot, and with how you’re pressed up against him, your bodies intertwine perfectly. fighting, clashing, connecting, it’s like your very thoughts and movements are intermixed with his. 

“rintaro- wanna cum, rintaro- make me cum-,” you beg breathlessly. suna’s chest soars with sick pride. the moonlight and the flickering lights of the parking light cast such an angelic glow on your absolutely depraved face. your lips are swollen, and your eyes look as if they’ve lost all direction. you, the normally so uptight one, always so quick to put him in his place and dig your fangs down on every vulnerable inch he gives you, look nothing short of disgustingly holy. it makes suna almost mad that he has to admit you look good even at your lowest.

he ruthlessly pounds his hips upwards into you. the car trembles and shakes with the sudden force, and your legs ache with how frantically you’re bounding up and down on his entire length. he’s coated all over with your slick, and he knows he shouldn’t be this rough on his car. but he can’t stop now, can he? 

not when your larklike voice is singing this beautifully for him. not when you’re clutching onto him as if you’re afraid to let go. not when he’s this tantalizingly close to subjugating your body and mind down to the finest pieces.

his tip glides right into your g-spot. a white flash dominates your vision, and a pained cry forces its way through your lips. you clench around him dangerously, and suna lets out a grunt. you’ve shown your unspoken weakness, and you’re nothing more than a convenient hole for him to fuck and abuse. he thrusts into your sweet spot over and over again, until your voice is rapidly turning hoarse from screaming out his name. nail and claw marks dot his neck, chest, and shoulders. they hurt, but because it’s from you, it edges him even further.

“gonna cum soon too, princess,” suna whispers coarsely. he grins into your skin again. “think you can cum with me? wanna cum with me?”

“yeah- cum with me…! ‘m so close, rintaro.” your voice is so wet and sloppy, just like your messed up cunt. suna doesn’t think he’ll ever get sick of you mewling out his first name like that. stealing your body is fun, but stealing your dignity has to be so much sweeter.

his balls jerk and tighten against his body, and the haziness in his brain becomes almost impossible to fight against. it’s true that you were supposed to be nothing but a quick fuck, but he wants to take his time and enjoy the husk of a woman you are. he leans back one final time, letting himself drink in the sight of your empty eyes and glassy cheeks. 

he did that to you. he’s fucking you so well that you, his sworn enemy, has no choice but to succumb to the pleasure once again. it’s a lesson that neither of you seem to learn from. suna wants to mock you for it, but he’s no better than you. he has no right to taunt you.

“fuck-,” he pants out, “-’m gonna cum, lovely- take it all f’me, yeah? yeah, there we go- be a good girl, for fucking once in your life, and take my cum!”

you shriek as he pulls himself flush against your body. he pumps himself into you harshly, and he yanks your body down onto his lap, making sure you can’t pull yourself off of him. you smack futilely at him, but you’re only given the brief chance to see his adoring face through the dim light before something warm explodes deep inside of you.

“r-rintaro!” pleasure and heat overruns your body. the pressure of his semen spurting straight into your womb pushes you entirely over the edge. your back arches, and your toes curl as you cum from being creampied. you throw your head back, grabbing onto whatever you can as you orgasm shamelessly all over suna’s cock. through all the fuzzy noise pounding about in your ears, you can hear him moan when your pussy milks him for the last time, the strains of your shared orgasm with him pulling more and more of his sticky cum deeper into you.

it floods your womb. your stomach feels heavy, weighed down by the semen that invades your cervix. it’s warm, too warm, and you’re still reeling from your climax when suna pulls you towards him, letting you collapse against his torso. you gasp and lay there on top of him, your two bodies sweating and connecting for a few silent minutes while you both collect your bearings.

he’s too good. he’s too good at fucking you. you fucking came together with him. you don’t have a full grasp of your thoughts just yet, but knowing that just feels nothing short of erotic. you suck in a deep breath through your nose, swallowing past the thickness that settles like dust in your throat, and let him stay buried inside of you for a bit longer. 

you can’t get the buzzing high to leave your mind. you’re a mess, a fucked out, dicked down mess, slumped across suna as if you were expecting him to hold you tightly. you don’t want to look at his face, not when you know he’s the one with his cock stuck inside of you, his cum intermingling with yours, using his dick as a momentary plug.

suna carefully props you up, and you stare lifelessly into the back of his car. you can hear him reach for his phone in his little device, and you can hear the little ‘click-clack’ of his nails tapping at the screen. you don’t heed it any mind; he’s not someone you can expect any actual aftercare from, and he’s probably just checking his notifications.

your thighs won’t stop shaking when you finally have the courage to peel yourself off of the man underneath you, and a thick glob of cum oozes out of you when you take yourself off of his dick. he almost laughs at you, but you ignore him, wordlessly reaching for your clothes and practically collapsing onto the passenger’s seat while you rifle around his car for some napkins to clean yourself up.

“you walked here, didn’t you?” he’s the first to make conversation. you hastily wipe at the warm cum that’s still oozing out of your cunt, trying to keep most of it from dripping down onto his car seats. you sneak a glance at him, and you keep your expression as nonchalant as possible.

“i did. what about it?”

suna pauses, and he shakes his head. “just an observation. you’re not going to be able to walk anywhere in your condition. do you want me to drive you home?”

“that… would be nice,” you admit. you tug your shirt down over your chest, covering yourself up and turning away from him slightly. you don’t want to face him, face the reality of your actions. your body tugs heavily on you, like the weight of your own self is too much for your conscience to bear. 

he’s being uncharacteristically agreeable, but you know he’s right. you’re in no place to mock him for his kindness, not when there’s cum shoved deep into your pussy and your clothes haphazardly thrown back onto your aching body. you wait for suna to hastily throw his own uniform back on, and you mumble a half-hearted ‘thanks’ at him as he starts the car up.

the ride back home commences entirely in silence.

suna doesn’t wish you goodnight, nor does he look you in the face when you arrive home. you don’t wish him anything in return either, simply shutting the door plainly behind you and disappearing into the comfort of your home. 

you don’t need to harbor any more thoughts of him now. your heart swells with excitement, and a flurry of excitement stirs inside of you. it’s hope that blooms in your chest, dispelling any of the doubt and shame from earlier in the night. if things went well and suna keeps up his side of the promise that you fulfilled, by this time next week, you’ll be hanging off of atsumu’s arm instead. 

you can’t wait.

…

…

…

a wistful exhale escapes from suna as he sits in the driveway by his house. it’s way past his bedtime, and in all honesty, he should have gone in a long time ago. but for whatever reason, he finds himself unable to leave his car, and he lounges around in the driver’s seat. his mind constantly replays the earlier events of the night, with you sleeping with him and with him having gotten his own fulfillment.

suna doesn’t know how to describe you. don’t get him wrong—he doesn’t think positively of you in any way. just as much as you loathe him, he abhors you right back. but simply chucking you into a box labeled ‘hate’ doesn’t sit right with him. the two of you are something more complicated than that, and the more he mulls over it, the more he thinks that there isn’t an appropriate word to fully encompass everything. 

hate is too visceral. the word is too simple. hate wraps things up with a bow too neatly, casts things aside without a second thought. love is too far from it, and the word is also too loaded, like a gun that suna doesn’t want to pull the trigger of. he scoffs at the thought of being in love with you; he’d rather cut off his limbs than think about imagining a future with you. you’re caught in that awkward middle, constantly teetering on the edge of something unknown and always tempting him to follow in your wake.

and he knows that. he knows he’s nothing like the guys you take an interest in. even now, with your heart and eyes fixated on his former schoolmate, suna is aware he can’t compete. atsumu is a shining, golden goose of a boy, and suna is simply lackluster in comparison.

the feeling that sticks to the roof of suna’s tongue isn’t jealousy. he feels too empty to describe it as something so lively as envy. that’s the issue with you. he feels too little to describe it as anything strong, but in that same breath, too much to chalk it up as nothing.

he bites his tongue as he inhales through his nose. suna reaches for his phone, and a forbidden rush courses through his veins as he opens up his camera roll. in it is a single video taken recently. the background is muddled and dark, but the events that are unfolding are clear as day. it’s a video of you riding him, perfectly captured unbeknownst to you, perfectly capturing all of your lewd acts with him and the way you cried out so lovingly for him, perfectly capturing the absolute two-faced cop out of a woman you are.

suna is a man of his word, and he’s promised you something. but for some weird reason, he doesn’t feel like seeing things through this time. he doesn’t know why, but his body acts before his rationale can logically explain things through.

he pulls up atsumu’s contact, and he brings up the text messages with him. it’s only been a few days since he last texted his friend, and nothing seems out of the ordinary. he opens his camera roll and clicks on the video he’s filmed of you, and it pops up in the text box, waiting for suna to bring down the hammer of judgment. 

what would atsumu think if he saw the video of you riding suna? of you fucking another man when you claimed so dearly that he was the only one for you? that you loved him? it takes everything in suna to keep himself from laughing like a godless maniac.

his finger hovers over the send button.

he presses it without a second thought.

KINKTOBER 2023—le troisième jour.

[hiemaldesirae]

Thorn here:

Oh...ohhh!! Vox arrives in hell but instead of legs he just has a Shark's tail! He has a TV head and a Shark's tail and Alastor is instantly smitten.

He gathers this new sinner up, protectively taking him to his house/radio tower and setting up aquarium and putting Vox in it, eyes warm.

Vox isn't amused. Why is this weird stag demon nuzzling him and calling him his muse? Vox is no one's anything!

Alastor adores how his muse attempts to shock him! (He has to buy shock resistant glass and he learns Vox does much better in salt water then fresh-(he brutally killed the Imps at the pet store that told him sharks would do fine in fresh water. His poor mate's gills were messed up for days!)) He is a bit irritated on how His beloved muse prefers only fish (fish sinners, but what his precious mate doesn't know won't hurt him)) but he can get past it.

HAS NO ONE TAUGHT ALASTOR NOT TO PICK UP RANDOM ANIMALS HE SEES ON THE STREET ????????? oh my god . this little FREAK i cannot believe he sees a pretty fish on the street and immediately takes him home. i really want to pry his head open and study him

i might snatch this concept to make mermay oneshots if ur okay w that btw. and im STILL working on the killer au i prommy i just have. wayyy too many wips and work to do irl lmfao. but for now. Snippet of writing because i love you /p(arasocial and platonic) (that first part is a joke. legally)

"You still haven't told me why you decided to keep me," Vox frowns as he hangs over the edge of the tank, watching Alastor steadily as he prepares a cut of sinner meat for the shark demon.

"Frankly, my dear, it was a burst of sudden inspiration on my part," Alastor hums. "It isn't every day you see someone as unique-looking as you, after all!"

"Is this about the TV head?" Vox frowns deeper.

"Well, not exactly--"

"It's about the TV head, isn't it?" Vox ducks underneath the water of his tank when Alastor doesn't reply, taking the others silence as an affirmative answer.

The deer demon sighs as his companion's body slowly becomes too ensconced in the murky depths of the tank for him to properly monitor, focusing his efforts back on making sure the fish sinner's corpse was prepared properly for Vox to ingest easily. Keeping a pet was much harder than Rosie had made it out to be- but in fairness, it was a burden he had decided to take upon himself.

After all, the day that Vox had appeared in Hell, it had been *his* arms that the sinner had fallen into- a stroke of luck, truly, as he had been vicariously gesturing to Rosie the motions he'd made for a recent and more theatrical hunt and been in *just* the right position to catch the poor dear- which was clearly a sign that Vox was meant to be his. And now, with the fascinating darling having been swimming around in the expansive tank of his living room for more than six months now, Alastor could confidently say that he had never made a choice more correct in his life.

Well, maybe not. Killing his father in cold blood had also been a pretty correct choice- maybe he should amend that to *afterlife*? Yes, that would work.

Alastor hums as he finishes the plating of the fish sinner, turning around to the tank with the finished meal in hand. He knocks on the glass wall- not expecting an answer, he goes to place the tray down next to the little window next to the bubble of air, only to be met with a much more- *human* looking face than expected.

Two glowing eyes, one the striking blue of larimar and another the rich brown of axinite, meet Alastor's own. Glowing marks stripe along the remarkably human face, as the shark sinner in front of him grins nervously. "I got rid of the TV. Will you let me go now?"

Alastor blinks.

Once, then twice. In the silence, he can see the nervous hopefulness on the demon's face flicker slightly as he breathes slowly, carefully setting the tray of food aside as he traces the outline of the other's face in the glass.

"Let you go, my dear? ...Oh, dear. I think I've been quite misconstrued. You aren't going anywhere, my lovely siren."