#tw: mutual dubcon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilftaroooo · 6 months

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Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone?

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor.

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.”

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss.

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.”

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you.

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy.

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something.

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress.

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.”

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll-

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw:stepcest #tw:foot/fetish #tw:dubcon

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

On the complexities of relationships and words

Summary: For two people that love to read, words seem like a complex.

Word Count: 13k (yeah... this is slow burn, might want to get a drink and snack)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Fluff, Angst kind heavy?, Modern AU, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, slow fic, marriage, arranged pairing, dubcon, themes about not liking yourself, TW: gender dysphoria (you don’t like your secondary gender), TW: Very vague and brief mentions to possible past domestic trauma, Jealous!alhaitham, slight yandere!alhaitham, mutual pining, miscommunication, breeding, biting, ruts, Alpha!alhaitham, Beta!reader. You agreed to the pairing due to tax benefits. A lot of references to literature.

Authors note: This is my first attempt at slow burn and yeah... I got carried away. I want to explore how slow alhaitham would open up and how love can come from the mind instead of the heart. Enjoy.

Side Note: here is a little dabble

Love, an emotion that sets the heart on fire. An all-consuming emotion that feels as if one was falling off a cliff while also being embraced tight by the treads of fate. The emotion that’s only separated by a thin line from madness. Or at least, that is how it’s been described to you through books and movies.

With love being the inspiration for so many poets, artists, and heroes throughout all of history, it comes as no surprise that you found yourself curious about it. It started out innocently, you would listen to the latest romantic ballads from the wandering travelers along the streets of Sumeru. In the nation of wisdom, books were plentiful yet you found your teenage self buying certain novels from Inazuma. Then came the films from Fontaine which you’d spend a week’s worth of pocket money on.

What first began from your childish curiosity became a hidden infatuation. You wanted to feel those emotions described in those songs, books, and movies. So you began your journey to seek it out. Your first relationship filled you with a certain rush, an excitement to finally experience a scene from those novels you loved… but you were only left with disappointment.

Kisses felt bland, holding hands felt awkward after too long, and eye contact uncomfortable. There were no lingering thoughts that kept you up at night, no pink haze of pinning, nor a spark that set your chest ablaze. The breakup didn’t come as a surprise, and even so, it didn’t leave you with those gut-wrenching heartbroken sobs into the pillow as you’ve seen in the movies. Just disappointment.

Perhaps it's because you were basing your expectations on relationships you can never experience. Those songs, those books, those movies? They were all about the bond felt between Alphas and Omegas.

The maddening ruts and needy heat that left your cheeks flushed when you read about them. The touching gestures of scenting, the descriptions of the additive aroma of their beloved, their fated mate. The marking that proclaimed to the world their undying love. You’ll never experience that… since you’ve presented as a Beta.

The worker ants of society, the largest class sandwiched between Alphas and Omegas, the extras in their movies. The category of society that can neither produce nor reciprocate pheromones, the population that lived in mediocrity in the eyes of romantics.

Of course, love was possible for Betas, after all in a population that makes up the majority, there will always be the few that find ‘true love’. But that’s an advanced scholarly topic up for debate, with the societal consensus being that it’s the lowest tier of love. All pairings with Betas belonged in this tier.

Alpha-Alpha, Omega-Omega, and at the very top of the tier list of ‘true love’ was the Alpha-Omega pairing. After all, love scientifically is created by chemical bonds in the brain with oxytocin, the love hormone. Pheromones kicked the production of oxytocin into overdrive, creating an addiction that makes a person long for their lovers every hour of the day. The chemicals that create the fire of romance you once wished upon shooting stars for.

Thankfully with time, as you matured into an adult you resigned yourself to your fate. You found solstice in your one advantage as a Beta over any Alpha or Omega: True independence. Free from the chains that are primal desires brought on by pheromones, your head was clear, decisions not dependent on the fever that was love.

You had given up on searching for love, hey, if you set the bar on the ground then there was less risk of being let down. So that’s why you agreed to your parents’ suggestion of an arranged pairing. To be matched to a life partner by a matchmaker.

“Eh? Isn’t that practice kinda outdated?” Dehya questioned.

“Don’t the city folk use the akasha system, using genetics for compatibility or something?” Your Alpha friend carefully tucked away her compact mirror.

“Actually, I think that’s really romantic! The traditional way matches you by personality and lifestyle compatibility.” Nilou grasped your hands, wishing you luck.

“I agree, old fashioned doesn’t mean it's ineffective. It’s still very much practiced in Aaru Village.” Candace sent a slight side-eye to your other Alpha friend across the table.

Perhaps your Alpha and Omega friends were trying to cheer you on, but frankly, they didn’t need to. The next day when you met with the older woman, you went through the process with a sense of boredom. When answering the matchmaker's question, you stated you just wanted a life partner that was honest, loyal, and respected your individuality.

Next, the matchmaker asked about your interests, you recalled all the literature you used to consume during your obsession with love, and embarrassed by your fruitless past endeavors you answered books.

“What kind of life do you seek, my dear?” Her wrinkly hands intertwined as she leaned on the table.

“A peaceful, quiet life.”

And that was it. She wrote down your responses with a bejeweled quill pen, handwriting beautiful and neat as if she were penning down a poem for you. You were free to go home. Walking down the streets of Sumeru, the dusk birds singing to their lovers, you didn’t even wonder about the Beta she was going to pair you with. You had a full day of work tomorrow, what you really wanted was a full night's rest.

So a month later, you couldn’t hide the bewilderment on your face as you stood in front of a tall Alpha, the partner the matchmaker had deemed a good fit. From his piercing teal orange eyes to his sliver hair to his towering physique, everything about him was the picture-perfect definition of an Alpha.

‘Alhaitham’ was his name, and you must admit it fit him quite well. His face remained unchanged even after his mesmerizing eyes passed over your form quickly. You couldn’t read the lack of expression on his face, was it disinterest? Indifference? Boredom?

A part of you wanted to take your parents to the side and whisper in their ears that the matchmaker was a quack. Who in their right mind matches an Alpha with a Beta? Before you could do so, the matchmaker lead your parents out of the room, giving the two of you some privacy to get acclimated. A heavy silence hung in the air as your bodies stood a respectable distance apart, deciding to break the silence you first stated the obvious.

“I’m not an Omega.”

“I’m aware.” His deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. Even his voice was beautiful.

“I don’t have any pheromone, meaning I can’t bond.” You glanced up at him.

“I never listed it as a requirement.”

His answers only seemed to confuse you further, perhaps he didn’t think this through all the way. Sure, the matchmaker revealed that both of you wanted peaceful lives, liked books, and believed firmly in one’s individuality. But there was a massive sumpter beast in the room as the saying goes.

“Aren’t you worried about… that time of the year…”

For the first time, his eyes met yours, you quickly shifted your eyes away.

“Are you referring to ruts? Medicine has advanced quite a bit, there are now inhibitors that can regulate pheromones and ruts. Not that you would know, of course.” He huffed out.

You couldn’t stop your eyebrow from twitching in annoyance. Ah, he’s also got that Alpha ego. You were still confused, from the look on your face he quickly deduced it as well.

“I dislike disruptions to my life. Primal desires are just disruptions. To put it bluntly, you as a Beta don’t release pheromones nor go into bouts of unsuppressed lust. Significantly reducing the risk of interrupting my time. You value individuality and are very independent, you’re very unlikely to bother me with trivial matters. All these factors add up to a peaceful, quiet life. Simple isn’t it?”

When he laid out all the reasons so clearly on the table, it’s hard to not note the truth, Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. Perhaps that’s why his grandmother enlisted the help of a matchmaker in her will.

After that day, you took home a folder full of documentation on him. Under the golden light of your desk lamp, you sorted through the information in front of you. He had no criminal record, he owns his own house close to the city, and he held a stable job with a very attractive salary.

You ponder the decision for about a week, weighing the pros and cons. Marriages in Sumeru are often encouraged with sizable tax deductions, more money in your own pocket. Employees with spouses have an easier time requesting paid time off, more money in your pocket and less work. He lacked any familial attachments, meaning no in-laws to deal with. One extra point for being very easy on the eyes too.

You ultimately signed your name on the marriage documents at the city hall, right next to his emulate penmanship. Right there under the fluorescent lights of the government office, the two of you recited your vows. The only other people in the room were your parents and the clerk filing the paperwork.

Within the next few months, you’ve carried the boxes filled with your belongings from your cramped apartment into his spacious house. Your old light novels and romantic collection of poems are now placed on a bookshelf adjacent to his. Bright and artistic covers contrasting against bland academic journals. Of course, there was no honeymoon, no break from your regular work schedules. There was no reason to.

In the first year of your marriage, you viewed him with suspicious eyes. You valued loyalty in a life partner and even though he stated he dislike pheromones and primal urges, he was still an Alpha with such natural responses. Yet, you observed that he came home every day at 5:30 pm on the dot, not a single hair out of place nor a single crease on the collar of his button-downs.

You found him to be a decent housemate, calm, quiet, and respectful of your space. Chores were divided equally between the two of you, making the shared living space organized and dust free. Of course, he was only human thus he also had some flaws.

Sometimes your foot would knock against a stack of books he had left on the floor near the numerous bookshelves throughout the house. Or how you noticed your shampoo and conditioner bottles emptying at an alarming rate, does he not know how expensive haircare is?

Alhaitham deemed you a good fit for a life partner. You weren’t disruptive nor dependent on him in any aspect. You spent your own money responsibly, a diligent person who followed a set work routine without needing any reminders.

You would alternate responsibilities for dinner, but he found your food more flavorful. You threw together ingredients with no regard for measurements, only going off what felt right, compared to his style of calculating the precise amount a ‘pinch’ was.

Of course, it’s expected that you’ve got some quirks that made him tsk internally. It was small insignificant things. Like how sometimes he would find strands of your hair left in the shower drain. Or how you often tuck his books back into the nearest shelf, not caring about if the genres matched or not.

“I commend your artistry. However, a mural made from your hair on the shower wall is unnecessary.”

“You’ve got shorter hair than me, how are you using double the product?”

“It’s all due to your perception, I’m not using any more product than you.”

“Oh?~ Then I guess the hair on the wall is all just your perception too.”

When living with another person there will always be bumps that needed to be smoothed out. But overall, life was peaceful and quiet just how the two of you liked it.

Alhaitham was Alhaitham, and you were you. Two independent individuals only connected by paper and law. Perhaps the only couple-like aspect of your relationship was sharing the same bed. Of course, this was done only out of necessity.

The only other room in the house with a bed was the guest room, even so, there was still an imbalance. The mattress was much smaller and firm when compared to the grand bed in the master bedroom.

He didn’t snore and neither did you, you didn’t toss and turn in your sleep and neither did he. With two separate blankets, he deemed that sharing a bed with you wouldn’t cause any disturbance to his sleep. You two had more than enough money to afford another bed, but just the thought of rearranging the furniture to accommodate it was too bothersome for the both of you. There was more than enough room on the bed for two bodies to sleep without ever touching.

No loud passionate fights nor lingering glances and maddening touches. Just the calm lull of normalcy. But you were satisfied.

By your second year with him, you’ve gotten acquainted with the nuances in his manner of speech. In particular, his sarcastic quips that you’d return with vivacity.

“Mmm, I appreciate the attempt. But I’d rather my books be sorted by subject rather than by instinct.”

“There’s faster ways to collect my life insurance than by getting me to trip over a book, Haitham.”

During this year, the two of you also began to use more familiar terms to address each other. Instead of your name, he’d simply call you wife, and you shortened his name. Husband and ‘Haitham’ had the same amount of letters anyways.

When the date of your courthouse wedding came around, nothing happened.

No flowers, no shiny gifts of jewels, not even a sweet dessert. After all, he found it silly to spend so much effort on a singular day instead of placing that enthusiasm into every regular day of life.

Birthdays shared the same sentiment, you’d be invited out by your group of friends to a celebration planned by Nilou, while Alhaitham would stay at home with his books.

“Happy birthday.” You placed a cup of freshly brewed coffee down in front of him.

“Thank you.” Besides your statement, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Hopefully I’m one year closer to collecting your pension.”

Alhaitham has to admit he does enjoy your sardonic humor, but you’d never be able to tell just by looking at him. He took a sip of his coffee, by year two you finally learned how not to scald the coffee grounds when doing a pour-over.

Life continued on, and the two of you were still like parallel lines traveling in the same direction side by side and separately.

It’s now the third year of your marriage. You were currently busy in the kitchen, Alhaitham had just informed you earlier there’d be guests coming over tonight. Fortunately, it’s a Friday which meant you had a half day at work. Quickly purchasing ingredients from street vendors on your way back.

He never had any guests over before, so you assumed that these guests must be important people from work.

You even made sure not to use spices that were too fragrant, just in case any of the guests were extremely sensitive to smells, as Alhaitham had informed you they were all Alphas. Tachin was a rather simple but delicious dish to make. You also picked fresh ingredients that would make a very quick and satisfying salad.

Your husband didn’t particularly like soup, but he doesn’t have the right to be picky when you’re the one rushing to cook enough food for five people, so minty bean soup will be on the table. He had a collection of wines in a separate room, you’ll leave the wine selection up to him.

Just as you finished setting the plates and dishes on the table the chime of the doorbell went off. Wiping off your hands and taking off your apron, doing a quick once-over in the hallway mirror before answering the door.

“O-oh… You’re a… Beta…”

The blond Alpha in front of you had a look of bewilderment across his handsome features. Rudy eyes peering down at you in astonishment as you maintained a polite face.

“Oof-”

An elbow was jabbed into the blond’s side as a shorter dark-haired man signaled for him to shut up.

“Thank you for having us over for dinner.” His friendly face gave you a smile.

“Welcome.” You invited all the men in.

The bewildered blond at the door’s name was Kaveh, the dark-haired man was Tighnari, and the white-haired man with the intense gaze was Cyno.

You familiarized yourself with their names, and from time to time you felt their eyes passing glances over at you as they made small talk. Alhaitham was currently picking out a few bottles of wine.

“So, you’re actually his wife… Ah! Of course, it’s no fault of yours. I’m just shocked he’s actually married, I thought he was bluffing when he said he had a wife. There were no signs… Ugh! Great, I owe drinks now.” Kaveh sighed, face in his hands.

“Alhaitham doesn’t want others knowing too much about him. But the proof is right in front of our eyes.” Cyno leaned his elbows on the table.

Ah, it makes sense that people at his work wouldn’t know about you. There weren’t even rings to distinguish the relationship. Usually, relationships nowadays were sensed through the presence of pheromones on the bodies of lovers. However, you were a Beta with no pheromones to cling onto his person. There’s not the slightest chance he ever talked about you. The two of you were also never seen in public together, so in the eyes of many Alhaitham is still a bachelor. There was a slight churn in your stomach, was the soup upsetting it?

“Gossiping about me while sitting in my house and right in front of my wife?”

Alhaitham’s deep voice mysteriously made the knot in your stomach go away, or maybe it was the way he referred to you, ‘my wife’. He placed the bottles of wine and glasses on the table.

“It’s nothing major. We’re just surprised someone is willing enough to stand your arrogance.” Kaveh crossed his arms.

“Unwed people should not have any comments on other’s relationships.”

“Hey! Why you-”

“Huh…” You pondered out loud.

The attention of the men in the room was all on you now.

“Oh, pardon my interruption. I guess I’m just in awe that my husband has friends.”

In an instant laughter ripped through the air.

“Bwahahaha! Alhaitham, I like your wife already! Ahahaha!” Kaveh was laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes.

Tighnari had one hand gripping the table and the other covering his mouth as he tried desperately to suppress his snickers, ultimately unsuccessfully.

“Well, I’m not sure if friends is the ‘correct’ term.” Cyno’s voice was steady, but you could see the small shakes of his shoulders.

“I’m beginning to wonder if inviting guests to the house was the right decision.”

Still, the dinner continued and the drinks started to pour. After your statement from earlier, the atmosphere at the table became more lighthearted aided by the help of alcohol.

“So, what’s the occasion?” You asked as you took a sip out of your glass.

“Huh? Alhaitham! How did you not tell your wife about your promotion?” Kaveh nearly spat out his wine.

“There’s no reason to dampen her mood with bad tidings.”

“Bad?!-” You wondered if the blond’s voice could shatter the glass in your hands.

“Keeping your cards close to your chest, even from your wife.” Cyno side-eyed your husband.

“Not at all. Not that the unwed head lawyer would need to know.”

“Tsk.” The tan Alpha crossed his arms.

“Now, now just because he didn’t tell his wife doesn’t mean Alhaitham’s a bad husband.” Tighnari tried to dispel the tension while also landing a subtle jab.

“Mmm, congratulations, Haitham.” You swirled your wine.

“Thank you.” Your husband replied.

The three Alphas looked at each other, eyes sending silent messages. They must find your marriage to the ashen-hair Alpha strange. Alpha-Beta pairings were already against convention, but it seems like the two of you matched each other's pace. Two weird people found each other.

After dinner was finished and you bid goodbye to the guests at the front door.

“Be grateful you stone-faced brat… Your wife’s got... too good to be stuck with your stale…”

The two shorter men carrying the blabbering blond off your front steps.

“He’s quite the lightweight.” You briefly mentioned while over the sink.

“I’m just grateful there’s still wine left. Go rest, I’ll get the dishes.” His larger frame takes up the space at the sink, silently encouraging you to move away.

So you left clean-up duty to him, a fair trade for making you cook a feast so out of the blue. As you stood under the warm water pouring over your body in the shower, your mind began to replay the conversations over dinner. They made you realize just how little you actually knew about your own husband despite living under the same roof for three going on four years now.

Once he stepped foot outside of your shared space he was practically a stranger. What was his job like? Who were his friends? What were his favorite places? Hell, even in your house, he was still a stranger. What books is he reading now? When does he find time to work out? What does he do when you leave the house? This realization made you shiver, as you turned the knob to increase the temperature of the water.

It wouldn’t hurt to try and get to know him a little better.

One Sunday morning, you walked into the living room greeted by the sight of him reading one of your old light novels. Seeing his large hand hold the bright book, decorated with a pair of lovers embracing, while his eyes studied the text like his academic papers was almost comical… If only you didn’t wish to sink through the floor in humiliation. He must’ve lost interest in his own books, or maybe he’d gone through his whole collection.

Either way, to prevent such an occurrence from happening again, you began to pick up some books for your husband on your way home.

‘Metaphysics’, ‘Epistemology’, ‘Quantum Mechanics’: those seemed like topics that’d interest him, you reasoned as you stood in line to purchase them. Your eyes caught sight of a certain book, ‘le rouge et le noir’, on a whim you decided to add it to the stack of heavy books. Not for your husband, but rather for yourself.

That night you handed the books over to him as he was about to go to his favorite reading spot on the couch.

“What’s this for?” He stared at the stack of thick books in your hands.

“Just passed by a bookstore and figured you might need something new to read.” You gestured for him to take them.

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to gift this to me. Thank you, I shall read them.” His low voice indifferent as always, finally taking the weight out of your hands.

You proceeded to move over to the smaller sofa in the living room and plopped down. Pulling out the book you had purchased earlier, you glanced up at him eyes questioning why he was staring. Alhaitham cracked open one of the academic journals you gifted him and averted his teal gaze.

This was a break from your normal routine, but you felt like it’d be a nice change to get back into reading. It also gives you the opportunity to learn more about Alhaitham by spending more time in his presence. But more importantly, it would allow you to keep an eye on your husband to ensure he doesn’t go snooping through your bookshelf again. Maybe you should just donate them, but no library in Sumeru would ever accept them.

Soon that break from routine became the norm. Every night after the kitchen table was cleared, dishes cleaned, and bodies freshly towel dried you and Alhaitham will sit adjacent to each other enjoying quiet reading time. The soft light from the tall floor lamps and soft flicks of turning pages adding to the ambiance of the room.

From time to time, you can hear the sound of him writing some sentences down on a notepad. So he likes to take notes on the books he reads. You learned something new.

Another new fact you gained from your observations of your husband was that he reads fast, really fast. He had already finished all three books before you were even halfway done with yours. You had to act fast lest his teal eyes begin to wander towards your bookshelf again. So, you found yourself back at the bookstore once more. Picking up any thick academic journals on topics ranging from ancient ruins to the newest peer-reviewed breakthroughs.

Maybe you should also pick up some notepads and sticky notes, you saw how thin the pad had gotten last night. It just so happened that the romance section was right by the shelves of stationeries. The book from Fontaine you had bought on a whim was in your opinion more psychological than romantic. However, the romantic elements present seems to have reignited your interest in the romance genre.

Oh well, you were grown enough now to not be so easily swooned by poetic descriptions of love. You picked the first book whose description piqued your interest and added it to the basket.

One of the first lessons taught to the children of Sumeru was to be cautious when putting out campfires. If not killed correctly, the unseen smoke can make fallen leaves catch fire. A small flame grows into a hellish blaze that consumes whole acres of forest.

“Thank you very much. Again, this isn’t necessary.” Alhaitham still took the books out of your hands.

The small notepad on top of the stack caught his attention, his teal eyes looked into yours with a questioning glance.

“Your notepad’s running out, and there was a sale.”

“I see.”

From time to time during your quiet reading session, you would glance up, a part of you hoping to see Alhaitham use the new stationery you’ve just bought him. A frown tugged at your lips when you saw he had set it to the side in favor of his old, thinning notepad. Maybe the color isn’t to his liking.

You continue to buy stationeries for him. Any fancy notepads or post-its that caught your eye at a store, every time you give them to him, he would thank you. Then proceed to never use them. Perhaps, the ones you got were too fancy? He seemed to like simple and practical items. Next time you got plainer ones, just simple squares of plain paper, he still left them untouched.

Maybe, you needed to find higher-quality ones. But if he didn’t like them then why does he keep accepting them? Should you try your luck with pens instead, he does go through quite a few. Ah, the sentiment from the very first time you met him still rang true to this day. Alhaitham is a weird Alpha.

He was an enigma to you.

You were an enigma to him.

Alhaitham wasn’t sure when it started, but his mind grew curious about you. Perhaps it’s because he read through his collection of books, or maybe because things at work have been dull lately. Thus, he deduced it was only logical that you started to pique this interest in a bored mind. You lived in the same house and slept in the same bed. With you constantly being in close proximity, of course, he will want to learn more about you after more than three years together.

One of the best ways to start studying you would be to start with your bookshelf. Alhaitham vaguely remembers you saying that you were interested in books, yet in all these years in the same space he hasn’t ever seen you touch your own shelf. What a pity, he could’ve used the extra space for his own books. Running a finger along the row of books, stopping on a random one he made his decision.

Your taste in literature is, how should he put it, very different from his own preferences. The descriptions of the actions taken by the Alpha main character and his Omega lover were idiotic, to say the least. The lengthy declarations of the love and affection they held for each other, and the sentences riddled with exaggerations and rhetoric. The romance between the characters was the priority of the novel, thus the plot suffered greatly from it.

In his opinion, the book was a mess. Yet, he didn’t once feel as if he had wasted his time. Alhaitham discovered a new side to you, is this the type of novel that interests you even as a Beta? The soft taps of your feet suddenly paused as it rounded the corner into the living room. Alhaitham looked up to see a tense look on your face as you stared at the novel currently in his hands.

No words were exchanged between the two of you as you continued to stare, looking at the book then back at him. It was only for a minute at most, yet it felt a lot longer before you turned on your heels without so much as a word. It was brief, but Alhaitham thinks he saw the tips of your ears flush. Oh, did he stumble upon a guilty pleasure of yours?

His actions must have been the cause of this deviation from routine, Alhaitham concluded while staring at the stack of books presented to him. Even on birthdays and holidays, gifts weren’t regularly exchanged between the two of you, so this was certainly a surprise. You were looking at him with eyes urging him to take the heavy books from your hands. He couldn’t refuse the offer.

What came next was even more of a surprise, you sat on the usually empty sofa and pulled out a book of your own. The cover was different from the ones lining your bookshelf, the colors were much simpler, he also notes that the book comes from Fontaine. You were quiet and focused on your own novel, it didn’t cause any disruptions to his sacred reading time so he didn’t say anything about it.

Soon your curled form on the sofa became a regular sight to see. Every now and then you’d readjust your position, trying to find a comfortable way to hold your book while also relaxing. Alhaitham subconsciously scribbles down brief notes on the book he holds in his other hand. Yet this time when he looked down, he had recorded this small detail about you on the paper. He felt your eyes glancing over as he swiftly crossed out what he had just written.

A few days later you gifted him more books along with a new notepad. Now there's an unequal exchange happening. You have now gifted him many items, and he has yet to give you anything in return besides a simple ‘thanks’. What should he give you? Alhaitham pondered the question for a bit.

He realizes that he doesn’t have a firm grasp on your likes and dislikes. Should he try books? No, he’s not familiar enough with your taste in literature to confidently gift a book you’d enjoy. If there was something that you liked, you’d just buy it right then and there with no hesitation with your own money. He thought about it a bit longer.

When you came home from a particularly tiring day of work you’d often have a small take-out bag in your hands. The frown on your face would melt away the moment you pulled the padisarah pudding from the bag. Alhaitham opened his eyes, he has found the gift to give you. But from which cafe did you get that dessert?

“Oh?” You looked at the padisarah pudding currently on the kitchen table.

“It’s for you.” Alhaitham didn’t look up from his book.

“Thank you. Actually, I have something for you as well.” You began to dig through your bag.

Alhaitham glanced up to see you present him a new notepad and a stack of stick notes, the green paper embossed with gold detailing. He hasn’t even touched the first notepad you had gifted with a pen, and here you were giving him another. Now the current gift balance is even more off.

You took your first spoonful of the pudding, his teal eyes secretly peeking at your expression as you processed the flavor. You furrowed your brow slightly holding the spoon in your mouth, then shrugged your shoulder as you took another bite. Your face didn’t light up like when you ate the ones you bought.

Tsk, this means Alhaitham bought it from the wrong store. He knows he could simply just ask you which place made your favorite pudding. However, he finds the opportunity for experimentation in front of him more interesting. He wonders what faces you’ll give for each variation of the dessert.

He gained more knowledge about you, you have a sweet tooth. He already guessed from your fondness for a certain dessert, but those were a treat for once in a while. You liked fruits, often snacking on them when you were bored on your phone, or as a late-night snack when reading.

“Mmmh.” You looked down at the zaytun peach in your hand.

“Is something the matter?” He asked, placing his cup of coffee down.

“Which vendor did you get this peach from?” You looked over at him.

“Why? Is there something wrong with the quality?”

“No, I like it. It’s got the right amount of firmness and sweetness.” You took another bite.

Alhaitham made sure to only get zaytun peaches from that specific vendor.

Currently, the head secretary was facing a small dilemma. On his desk he has amassed quite a collection of stationeries. All in part thanks to you, he took some of the notepads and sticky notes to his office, your gifting habits slowed when it looked like he was using them. The ashen-haired man could not pinpoint where this sudden obsession of giving him stationeries came from.

Although, he has to admit it is quite amusing to watch the expression on your face as you watched his every time you handed over a new office item. It reminds him of a cat presenting its owner with shiny objects it had found, waiting for its human to react. But the current gift exchange ratio is still off.

His teal eyes scanned the report that had been placed on his desk earlier in the morning, there were a lot of important details between the lines on the pages. He should list down the details on a note before passing it on to the CEO. A hand reached towards the pile of post-its on his desk, courtesy of you, before it stopped.

‘It would be too much of a waste to use good quality paper for such a tedious task.’ He reasons as he used one of the subpar post-its provided by the office.

Dropping the report off at the CEO’s desk before he headed out for his lunch break. Walking to his favorite cafe, a familiar flash of color caught his eyes, a florist was selling potted pardisarahs. You did always seem to admire the colorful flowers that decorated the top of the dessert.

He stood there on the street contemplating the plant. Padisarahs are fickle flowers, needing a specific blend of soil and precisely measured amounts of water. Too much sun and the fragile petals will burn, too little and the vibrancy of its leaves fade. He concluded that he didn’t want to bestow such a hassle on you.

Returning from his lunch break to his office, Alhaitham was greeted by a great violation of his personal space. Covering his desk were stacks of new proposals and applications, those weren’t out of the ordinary. But the colorful squares plastered all over each new proposal were:

Please approve these proposals secretary Alhaitham! They are very important! ASAP

Here are the calculations of the research funds for next year, take a look at them - T

Alhaitham you better approve my application this time, the project is already delayed and I filed this paperwork twice! If you have any respect for your senior then approve this as soon as possible! - K

Head secretary, these are the new amendments to company policies. The legal team is awaiting your approval before we proceed with the implementation. - C

They used the stationeries that you had gifted him to write nonsense. They had the gall to ask him for favors after they touched his desk without permission and wasted such pretty paper.

Every proposals on his desk got thrown in the trash without so much as a glance. Nothing got approved, next time they should carefully consult his listed work hours outside the office.

He didn’t think he’d have to make a sign that said ‘do not touch the items on my desk’ to a workplace of grown adults, but he was very much contemplating it now.

Later that night, his annoyance from earlier in the day melted away once he cracked open the new book gifted to him. Your form comfortably wrapped in a light quilt as you cradled yours. The minutes turned into hours, the silence comfortable like the heat from a fireplace. A soft snap echoed through the room, your hand moving towards your face from the corner of his eye.

“Is something the matter?”

“Mm? Oh, no. The ending was just sad.” You wiped a tear from your other eye.

He learned something new about himself today, he didn’t like seeing you cry.

You really should’ve known better. Like Icarus, you’ve flown too close to the sun. The glue binding the wings of maturity and sanity you’ve crafted started to melt and fall apart, causing you to plunge down. Falling back into the obsession of ‘love’. What started as just one book, turned into two, turned into four. Now your once sparsely populated shelves were crowded with new romance titles of all sorts.

“You’re rather late today.” Alhaitham’s voice made you freeze in place.

Why did the living room have to be so close to the front door, maybe you should’ve snuck back in through the back door. Sneaking back into your own house, did you revert back to a teenager while in your fourth year of marriage?

“Sorry ‘bout that, I got caught up with friends.”

That was a blatant lie, your poor friends were dragged into your mess all because you couldn’t be honest. You weren’t in their company, no, you were in the theaters watching a film alone. But how could you ever admit to him that as the Alpha and Omega lovers danced on the screen, you pictured your faces over theirs?

Alhaitham acknowledged your explanation with a small hum, never looking up from his book. Good, because you were certain if he did, he would’ve seen right through your lie.

Was your handsome husband the spark that rekindled your obsession? Or was it the stories you’ve been consuming that made your heart thump harder in his presence?

You weren’t sure which was which, but you couldn’t deny the truth you’ve buried. You were in love with Alhaitham. It was an undeniable fact. From the beginning, you’ve always liked him. His quiet demeanor, his baritone voice, and his teal-orange eyes. But now you were in love with them, every aspect of him. You hated how helpless it made you feel.

But you secretly liked how good it felt. After years of dormancy, you finally felt it, the rush described to you in those stories. That can’t sleep love, that delicious burn of pining, the itch in your chest as you laid in bed next to him. Two quilts defining the unseen boundaries of personal space, you longed to creep over it but you lacked the courage.

What does he smell like? The same shower and laundry products were shared between the two of you. But that is not what you meant. What did his pheromones smell like? Was it a cool fresh scent, cool like the minty streaks hidden through his ashen hair? Or was it deep and woodsy? Maybe he smells like the pages of an old library book.

You used to pity your Omega classmates, for you knew the stigma and inconveniences they will face in their lives. However, right now you envied them to the point of nausea. They knew what Alhaitham’s scent was, but you don’t. Why did you have to be a Beta?

The demon known as insecurity you thought you’ve left behind was actually lurking in your shadow the whole time.

Maybe you should check yourself into the Bimarstan, the fever of love feels as if it’s melting your brain. His gaze felt piercing now, his accidental skinships seared your skin. You had no one to blame but yourself, Alhaitham is not at fault, you were the one who fell into the fire as he sat in his place on the couch unaware. Even after four years you still couldn’t be honest with your own husband.

Feelings were never discussed because he believed you had a mutual understanding that this was for convenience.

You can’t tell him you wanted more. How can you tell him you wanted more? There’s already a wall four years in the making, too great to overcome.

‘I need to rein myself in’ Alhaitham thought as his eyes followed your figure through the crowd below. It was a slow Friday at work so he decided to walk away from his desk, arriving at an overpass that looked over the streets of Sumeru. Something compelled him to look below, and under the golden sun there you were, and by your side was another Alpha.

Dehya is her name, a good friend of yours that you introduced once before leaving for a birthday celebration. A good friend who had the privilege to ruffle your hair and loop an arm around your shoulders as she ushers you into one of the many stalls filled with glittering trinkets.

His hand tightened its grip on the railing, why did she have privileges he was denied? Alhaitham felt he was stalking his own wife. Idiotic really.

Skinship was not commonplace between you, an unseen glass wall defining the boundaries of your personal space. Whenever his skin met yours, you’d flinch and pull away as if you were burned. He always just apologize and the two of you would move on without another word. Hell, even if his eyes lingered on you for too long you’d tense up.

It’s been happening more often now, is it because his eyes started wandering more towards your figure or how his hand itched to hold yours?

Were you scarred by a past relationship? Were your flinches the remnants of a darker period in your life before him? His jaw clenched. By pulling a few strings he had pulled up more files of your past, to satisfy his mind’s hungry, but there was nothing. It only made his curiosity hunger more, or was it something else? Alhaitham wanted answers to why you hated his touches and stares, yet wanted to be in his presence and give him gifts.

There was only one conclusion he could come up with: you liked your personal space. And he will respect it, but why did your friends not have to?

There was now a knot in his stomach as if a beast was clawing at it, maybe he should call off work and head to the Bimarstan. He disappeared from the overpass.

–

“Haitham.” He heard your soft pounds on the door.

“Leave some hot water for me.” He could envision the pout on your lips, and that’s what brought him over the edge.

Watching with shameless eyes as the evidence of his guilt washed down the shower drain, running water masking his pants.

If he can’t touch you, that doesn’t mean he can’t think about you; words spoken like a true creep he silently chastised. Alhaitham doesn’t care to admit how long he’s been doing this, perhaps his primal urges weren’t as controlled as he believed.

It’s strange really, you’re a Beta yet you make him have these urges.

You don’t produce any pheromones to cling onto his body. But by using the same shower products as you, it serves the same purpose of scenting no? A foolish voice Alhaitham pushed from the back of his mind, taking another pump of your body wash. Maybe he should check the dosage of his inhibitors.

–

The only opportunity he got to observe you closely was when you were asleep. ‘You’re quite the heavy sleeper’, he notes as his eyes traced over the subtle curves of your cheeks, the contours of your nose, and the softness of your lips.

It’s accepted wisdom that Omegas were the most beautiful people. The top A-list singers and actors being Omegas only solidified the belief. However, Alhaitham’s confident your existence could challenge that very notion.

If it weren’t for your distinct lack of a scent, any Alpha could’ve mistaken you for an Omega. Even his guests were taken aback by how your appearance didn’t match your status as a Beta.

There was a pang in his chest. If he felt those urges when looking at you, then it’s guaranteed that others, specifically other Alphas, have felt it as well. But why? He trusted you to stay true to your convictions of loyalty and integrity… He wasn’t so sure about others though. Even with the inhibitors coursing through his system, he couldn’t seem to push down that annoying hand clawing at his back.

You stirred, huddling into your blanket more, snapping his attention back. ‘Oh, you must be cold again’. The houses in Sumeru were designed to keep hot air out, so when a northern cold front blew in, you definitely felt it.

Quietly getting up, Alhaitham pulled the spare quilt out of the closet, gently layering it over your curled form. The knit between your brows disappeared as a pleased expression overtook your face. Were you having a pleasant dream? Was he ever included? Subconsciously his hand began to reach for your face, only to freeze.

‘Personal space’ he reminds himself as he strolls out of the bedroom.

It makes no sense to him, you’re a Beta. In fact, the reason why he married you in the first place was because he believed your lack of pheromones and lack of heats won’t disrupt his peaceful life. The matchmaker had called him her biggest challenge, persevering only because of a promise made to his late grandma.

So, how were you still corrupting his thoughts like this?

He should read to calm his mind before he attempts to join you back in bed. Thoughts running laps in his head, analyzing then overanalyzing every last explanation he could come up with.

Alhaitham’s greedy hands made their way over to your bookshelf, perhaps he could sedate a bit of his curiosity as well. Pulling the Fontainian novel that marked the start of a tradition.

Under the golden glow of a lamp he flipped through the pages, it seems that your taste in literature has matured. Teal eyes skimming past a paragraph before going back to do a double take.

‘Love born in the brain is more spirited, doubtless, than true love, but it has only flashes of enthusiasm; it knows itself too well, it criticizes itself incessantly; so far from banishing thought, it is itself reared only upon a structure of thought.’

He reached an epiphany.

It looks like you’ve been careless recently. Too distracted by the task of masking your infatuation of your husband from your husband, and maintaining your independent mask to realize that Alhaitham had once again finished all his books.

The novel right in front of you, moved from its place on your shelf, was proof of that.

‘It’s a good book’

Your husband’s neat handwriting was present on the small mint post-it plastered on the front cover. It was a simple gesture yet it made your heart flutter as if you had won the achievement of a lifetime. You finally got Alhaitham to use one of the many stationeries gifted to him.

Carefully peeling the paper off the cover, then folding it to tuck it away in your pocket.

“At least it’s not another light novel this time.” You affirmed, sticking the book back into its spot.

“The mahamatra have announced a total recall of the inhibitors distributed during the past three months, with reports-”

You were lost in your own little world, contemplating just which books haven’t you bought for your husband yet. Tuning out the sounds of the bookstore playlist and TV as your eyes scanned the titles of the thick books in front of you.

Would he like Sci-Fi? Sure it’s not academic but maybe it’ll have nuggets of information in there that’d catch his interest.

The weight of the books made your bag strap dig into your shoulder, seeing the house in the distance, you picked up your pace for the home stretch. Tomorrow marks the start of a four-day public holiday, and after the crunch time your boss put you through to tie up loose ends. You needed it.

Turning the keys in the knob you entered your peaceful little safe haven.

Only to immediately feel the heaviness in the air.

Your husband should be home by now, yet the spot on the couch remained empty. His shoes were placed at the door, albeit messily. Kicking off yours as you placed the bag on the coffee table, you navigated your way through the halls.

The atmosphere was quiet, but not the comforting silence you’ve experienced for the last five years.

“Haitham?” You called out, about to turn the corner into the master bedroom.

His black button-down and slacks were thrown all over the floor, a large lump was currently huddled under your blankets on your side of the bed. ‘Oh, he must be napping’.

Two years in, Alhaitham slept shirtless again like he did before you came. Never before were you grateful that your job made you get up at ungodly 8 am, but having an extra 30 minutes to look at his godly body as he slept made mornings bearable.

Still, the air didn’t feel right and even if he was messy sometimes, your husband never just threw his clothes on the ground when the laundry basket was right in the corner. His breathing also seemed labored.

“Haitham, are you sick?” Reaching a hand into the cocoon of blankets, feeling for his temperature.

A sharp inhale was heard as his breathing stilled, his skin was burning. You moved onto a different patch of skin to confirm it. He must have a fever.

“You’re burning! I’ll get medicine and water, don’t move.” Your hand quickly retracted.

Just as your back was turned towards him, like a monster from beneath the blankets a pair of arms entrapped you.

“H-haitham?” His touch was searing you.

“W-woah?!”

In an instant, you were pinned under Alhaitham’s towering form, the soft sheets cushioning your body. The place where he once curled was twisted and balmy. Your eyes shoot up at him as he hovered above, your body stiffened. A scarlet haze offset the brilliant teal hue you’ve grown so infatuated with, a sense of impending danger ran down your neck.

He doesn’t have a fever, he’s in a rut.

Your thoughts were running wild, bouncing around in your skull as his labored breathing above continued. In all five years, you’ve never seen Alhaitham go into a rut, he was always diligent with his inhibitors. You’ve never been around an Alpha in rut, after all, you were never the one to trigger it.

It’s embarrassing really, you had no idea what to do, all your experience with ruts came from those steamy light novels.

“H-haitham, let me up, I’ll get your inhibitors...” You tried to tug your wrists from his grasp.

Big mistake. His grip tightened as he buried his face into the side of your neck, a low rumble was felt from his chest. Alhaitham had his nose right up against your neck, taking deep inhales as if he was trying to detect something.

You shivered as your body temperature shot up, you’ve never been this close to him, the brushes of his ashen locks against your neck made your legs rub together.

“Hey…” You moved your neck away, the sensation was almost overwhelming.

“Stay still.” A baritone voice vibrated against you.

On command your body stilled, muscles refusing to move as Alhaitham continued his search. His breath was against your ear, tickling it as he took deep inhales of your hair. A low groan was heard as if he was frustrated with something.

“Not enough.”

“Huh?-”

The sound your blouse getting torn off your body resonated through the air. Even will a layer of clothing gone, your body felt hotter. Just as you began to process the loss of your favorite blouse, another rip rang in your ears. Your skirt was now gone as well. You were so vulnerable under his touches.

Dragging his nose down from your neck, over your covered breasts, then along your belly. His hands now gripped your thighs as he shifts down to part them effortlessly, eyes focused on your covered cunt.

Your mind was groggy, reactions dulled, why was the room so hot? Suddenly you felt his nose against your cunt, taking long whiffs of the slick that was beginning to wet the fabric of your panties. That was enough to spark action from you.

“H-hey!” Your hands pushed against his messy locks as your thighs tried to preserve your dignity.

“Ah!” You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth.

In protest of your attempt to shut him out of heaven, Alhaitham bit into the soft flesh of your thigh. Hazy eyes looking straight into yours, warning you to not do it again. His intense gaze made something deep in your cunt pulse.

Sharp teeth released soft skin as his attention was back on the honeypot in front of him. Your panties offered as much resistance as wet paper against his swift tug, the fabric now on the floor in pieces.

Your cunt twitched with each hot breath that hit against its wet lips. With the thin barrier gone, Alhaitham can now freely bury his nose against your honeypot, tingles ran up his spine as the sweet musk of your slick sent his olfactory system into chaos. His throat felt parched as if he had just trekked the desert, he needed a taste.

“Ah! Ahhh,” your back arched as his hot tongue lapped against your cunt.

Alhaitham was slurping up your slick like a depraved beast, wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit, occasionally dipping into the contracting hole. Your whole body shook when the smoothness of his tongue ran across your clit, toes curling in the air.

The shower head couldn’t bring out this level of pleasure. The fantasies you envisioned during your long showers couldn’t compare to the scene happening right now. His ministration continued, each stroke of his tongue sending blinding waves of pleasure.

His hips were angrily rutting against the sheets, erection rubbing against the fabric impatiently. But he had to taste you more, his mind hazy as it craved nothing more than your taste. It was his first taste, but he was already addicted. Your legs tensed up in his grip as a loud whine left your lips, your body shaking as a sudden rush of slick was welcomed onto his awaiting tongue.

Your sensitive body tried to flinch away as he continued to lap against your swollen lips and clit but his iron grip on your legs didn’t let you budge an inch. Eyes rolled back as the sweet torture continued.

Your body convulsed, did you just cum again? Two orgasms sapped you of all strength, everything fell limp as your moans continued to fill the room. Your mind too foggy to even process the feeling of embarrassment. It felt so good, yet it was torturing, your cunt was sobbing for something else.

As if taking mercy on your desperation, or maybe his desperation had reached its limit, Alhaitham pulled away. Teary eyes followed his motion, watching as he aligned his length with your greed.

You’ve seen him walk out of the shower in just a towel, how did he hide this behind a puny towel?

Your cunt’s eagerness blocked any hesitation from reaching your brain as his length dragged itself against your soaked lips. The pillow behind your head was not enough, you needed something more solid to hold onto, to ground the last shred of your sanity.

Shaky hands released the plush pillows, outstretched towards Alhaitham’s immense frame. A growl ripped through his chest as he dove into your arms at the same time as his length thrusted fully inside you.

“OH!” Your fingers left deep stretches along his shoulder blades.

His pants and soft growls vibrated against your neck as your eyes rolled back again, the fullness you’d been craving has been fulfilled. The stretch burned in all the right ways as your walls clung onto his member, thick and hard. Soft legs locked around a solid torso, your body pressed against his as his frame pinned yours to the bed. Just as you were adjusting to feeling of his length inside, his hips began moving.

They were merciless, slapping against your hips and ass as the force made your whole body bounce. His length punishes your walls as it pulled out to just the tip only to be slammed back in at full strength. You clung to his muscular body for dear life, breasts bouncing out of their home in your bra.

Nonsense was spilling out of your mouth as your brain malfunctioned from the blinding flashes of pleasure. The slick slaps of your cunt eagerly welcoming his every move and the headboard of the bed knocking against the wall complimented each other.

Alhaitham’s pants were growing heavier, growls deeper as his tongue began to trace up and down your neck. The sensation along with his thick tip bullying your poor sweet spot pushed you over the edge for the third time. Walls clamping down to milk him as your legs squeezed him, the pleasure was toeing the edge of pain, much like how your brain was on the verge of madness.

Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, heavy balls slapping against your swollen lips.

As the high was beginning to wear off, his pace became impossibly fast, the solid wood headboard now banging against the poor wall. Your bodies rocking together on the bed, he buried his face deeper into your neck. His teeth danced along your shoulder as your moans sang in his ears. He wanted to hear more of it.

Alhaitham’s hips slammed against yours one final time before they stilled, teeth digging into your shoulder to suppress a moan, burying his length deep inside your cunt as his thick seed spilled.

Your greed drank all of it up gratefully as your shoulder stung.

Your chest was raising and falling fast, lungs trying to hog all the air that it could hold. Heart pounding hard in your ears. Tears and drool wet your face as your head fell weakly to the side on the soft pillow. You were completely spent as your arms didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him. Limbs limp and nerves fried.

Above you Alhaitham continued to pant into your shoulder, length still buried inside.

After a couple more harsh pants and deep breaths, you felt him stir, pushing against the bed to unpin you from his frame.

“Ah-hh ahh~” You felt your walls clench once more around his length as he pulled out, a thick string of mixed slick connected his tip to your hole.

Your body longed for rest as you turned onto your stomach, face pressed against the pillow, still panting heavily as your eyes closed.

Two large hands grasped firmly onto your hips, startling your consciousness back as you looked over your shoulder.

Alhaitham still had that scarlet haze in his eyes as he lifted your hips up, watching as more mixed fluids began to tickle out of your abused hole. Your eyes shifted down and you gulped, he was still erect.

You were quite foolish to believe that one round was enough to satisfy an Alpha in rut. However, if it weren’t for his firm grasp on your hips, your body would’ve collapsed back into the sheets.

A loud whine left your throat, vocalizing your exhaustion to him. It’s been a long time since you got any action, the two of you didn’t even consummate on the wedding night, it was spent packing your stuff.

You tried to shift your hips out of his grip but he only held on tighter, earning another whine.

Soft kisses were pressed against your back as if he was trying to soothe you. It was pathetic how weak you were to them, instantly melting against the pillow. Maybe you can last one more round you thought as his length rubbed against your slit again.

Thanks to the extra prep and lubrication from the last round your walls were much more accustomed to the stretch as Alhaitham entered once more. His beginning thrusts were much more slowed and controlled than before as you moaned softly into the pillow.

This couldn’t last sadly, as his lust overtook him again and his hips once again slammed into you, forcing a choked moan from you. Using his hands, he held your body up as he pulled all the way out until the tip then cruelly forced it all back into you.

You wanted to beg him to rest, but you also wanted to beg for more. Your sloppy cunt accepted all his punishing movements with gratitude as the wet walls thanked his length with kiss-like contractions.

Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, mind absolutely blank, the pleasure must’ve melted your brain. All you could do was grip the tear-soaked pillow and let out moan after moan, the poor wall still getting beaten by the movement of the headboard. Tension building up once more in you.

Somewhere along the lines, you felt his teeth graze against your nape as his thrust picked up the pace once more, a sign that he was close to finishing. He was panting against the back of your neck as if he was searching for something. With a particularly harsh snap of his hips, he bites deeply into your nape as he releases a fresh batch of seed.

“Why?”

You felt the frustrated growls against your skin as he bites again at a different angle. The pleasureful pain seems to have jump started your brain for just a second.

‘Oh, he’s trying to bond.’ You felt Alhaitham’s soft locks brush against your shoulders as he continued his fruitless search.

You were once reminded that you were just a Beta, unable to form a bond. He could bite your neck as many times as he wanted. His teeth can pierce the flesh until the skin was raw, but it would be all for naught. He’ll never get that satisfaction. You don’t have the glands to be bitten, to be marked, to be bonded with.

You weren’t an Omega. There was now a heavy knot in your chest.

–

You weren’t even sure what day it was, all you can recall is the hazy cycle of intense lust followed by a lull before the next round. During the lull, you did your damnedest to keep yourself and him hydrated, often having to lure him into the kitchen for some much-needed water and quick snacks.

The air of the house was thick with the musk of sweat and desire, very nerve of yours fried from pleasure.

Once again your body was pinned under his, legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips desperately snapped against yours.

Every article of clothing has long since been removed, allowing your breasts to bounce along with every thrust. By now you were certain the shape of him was pounded into your cunt. The soaked sheets below clutched in your hands as if to ground you from floating up to cloud nine.

The harsh pants and low growls above you increased in frequency in time with his thrusts. He must be close again.

Fortunately, you’ve noticed that the breaks between each round have been getting longer and longer. A sign that the rut was ending. If you survive this you’ll bring offers to the sanctuary of surasthana to thank the archons for their blessing. Maybe after the feeling returns back to your legs of course.

Suddenly your face was pushed into the side of his neck, the scent of sweat now stronger.

“Bite.” His rugged voice commanded.

Ah… he wanted you to mark him. With clumsy teeth, you felt around the smooth muscles. You can’t sense where his glands were so you just bit down at random along his neck. It was useless, you knew it, but still...

Alhaitham pushed himself eagerly against your teeth, encouraging you to bite harder with a growl. You obliged.

His teeth ran along your raw neck, already covered in his bites and hickeys, searching for one last spot. Your jaw clamped down harder as his teeth sank into your neck one last time. Hips stilling as one final wave flooded into you, it was hard to tell when one orgasm ended and another began.

Your hands found purchase around his back again, holding him close as you panted against his neck. Against yours a frustrated growl vibrated once more, his muddled mind confused as to why no bond has formed.

“Why?”

There was that cold pierce of pain again.

The large hand on the back of your head held your nose close against his searing skin. It could’ve just been your fried nerves, but as the darkness overtook your vision, you could’ve sworn there was a warm and opulent scent of wood and books.

If you were reborn, in the next life could you recognize his scent?

Your eyes opened up to blinding sunlight. Your body ached as if it had been through hell and back, bones threatening to turn into dust at any second. The large bed messy and only occupied by one body. Shifting your sight away from the stinging light, his empty pillow came into view.

You weren’t sure what came over you, but even as your muscles screamed you pressed your nose into the cold pillow and inhaled. Nothing. Just sweat and disappointment.

Just what were you hoping for? That a few nights of passion would birth a miracle? That you’d somehow turn into something you couldn’t be? In the end, you were still you. Those novels must’ve rotted your common sense, stupid.

Bitter tears fell onto the pillow, you didn’t have the strength to hold back the sobs as they wrecked through your body.

Yes, you were stupid. So stupid from the very start to believe that this could work. That maybe after a few more years, maybe at the seven-year mark, he could fall in love with you as well.

The dream of his tender eyes looking into yours with love crumbled right there in front of you.

A cup clanged onto the desk in the room as footsteps quickly made their way to your side, a blurred figure knelt down.

“Is your body hurting anywhere? I’ll take you to the Bimarstan.” Alhaitham gently sat your covered figure up, trying to see the extent of the situation.

Your small hands pushed against his solid frame, his motion stilled as you refused to allow him to see your face.

However, Alhaitham knows he didn’t have the right to. Not only did he invade your sacred personal space, but he did so like a wild beast. Not allowing your body to rest or replenish itself as he trapped you to the bed for almost four days. He deduced that you must be hurting, that you must be scared of him now, and that must be the reason behind your tears.

Guilt was suffocating him. Those stupid urges, that stupid rut. His stupid hands refusing to let you go.

Throughout your whole marriage, you had put on the mask of independence, someone who did not need to lean on a husband for comfort. Yet here you were, bawling out your eyes in front of him like a child. Your façade has been cracked, tears soaking into his pillow and snot trickling down under his unwavering gaze.

What was the look on his face right now? You couldn’t see through the mirage of tears blurring your sight, not that you had the courage to face him. Was it disappointment? Right now as he observed your vulnerable figure, did he feel lied to after all these years? Like he had just discovered the defects in a product?

The freezing water of self-loathing, doubt, and insecurity filled you like a boat whose haul had been pierced by the jagged edges of an iceberg. You were drowning, your limbs kicking and thrashing with all their might trying to resurface.

For a brief moment, your face bobbed above the crashing waves.

“Let's get a divorce.”

Those were the only words you managed to choke out in the space between your sobs before your head disappeared under the murky waters once more.

His whole body froze as he processed your words. Alhaitham had already deduced why you wanted to end this relationship, he had hurt and scarred you. Yet, like a child, he still wanted to clamber for more answers.

“Why?” He said through clenched teeth, you couldn’t see it but his hands had a slight shake.

“We’re not satisfied, Alhaitham. I-it’s not working, I-i can’t satisfy your requirements. I-i can’t make you happy, I-i can’t make you love… me.” Hiccups breaking up your sentences.

That was it, you spilled out all your secrets. Your lungs and throat hurting as if you just pushed salt water out of them.

Alhaitham’s hands were balled up so tightly his nails broke the skin on his palms.

So, you weren’t happy. He couldn’t make you happy. He felt as if he had dropped down to the tier of a fool. A fool who didn’t know how to make those bitter tears of yours stop.

He released you.

You felt his presence disappear from your side. The touch of warmth he provides was now gone as coldness fully engulfs your whole being. The tears just wouldn’t stop. Is this what those heartbroken sobs actually felt like? Why did you ever think this was something to be desired? You truly were an idiot.

You weren’t sure how long had passed, a few seconds or a few minutes, but his presence returned back to your side. He looked as if he had something in his hands. Were they divorce papers? Ah, Alhaitham was a man who always had a plan for everything. Did he have a premonition that this marriage was doomed from the start? How long has he had them?

Alhaitham didn’t feel like he had the right to touch you. However, he needed to do something to make you look at him. Please, just look at him. His large hands tenderly grasped yours as if they were made from glass. You still hid your face from him.

“I won’t bind you to a life that brings you unhappiness. But.. You have to tell me” His voice wasn’t as steady as he wanted it.

“If you want strolls through the market, tell me. If you want to be woken up with sweet whispers, tell me. If you want to hold hands across a date night table, then tell me. You have to tell me what will make you happy.” He wasn’t sure if those were your unfulfilled desires or his.

You could only tighten your grip on his hands as you sobbed harder.

Your statement from before was incorrect. Alhaitham is also at fault for this pain you were going through. If there was one feeling that was just as addictive as love, it would be hope. Please, please don’t give false hope.

“I-i’ll disrupt your-r life…” You managed to choke out.

His thumb gently stroke the back of your knuckles.

“How could you ever disrupt something you’re a part of?”

Your hesitant eyes finally met his teal gaze, his eyes soft as opposed to their usual stonewall stare. With the walls down, you were given a glimpse into the whirling emotions behind them. Endearment, sincerity, and hurt danced along the green-blue irises.

“As for your last reason, here. I should’ve just given this to you directly.” His hands let go of yours, picking up the item he had brought.

He handed over the book you had placed back on your bookshelf a few days earlier, the one he had left his note on. So, he didn’t have divorce papers prepared? Your trembling hands accepted it, and through your teary eyes, you finally noticed the torn-out green and gold note contrasting between the cream pages.

Tenderly, you unfolded the piece of paper retrieved from the book. Quickly blinking to clear your eyes from excess tears. In the neat script of Alhaitham’s handwriting:

‘Love born in the heart as opposed to Love born in the brain:

When one loves at first sight or goes looking for love, then one is essentially just attracted to someone for the sake of being with someone. Not looking objectively at any warning signs or relationship flaws one has with someone. If there are any issues, the bias of infatuation blinds you to them.

So that's loving with the heart, based solely on carefree addictive emotion, even though it feels stronger and more enthusiastic on the surface.

Love from the brain is more logical and objective. You take the time to understand a person, seeing them for them with unbiased eyes. You understand them thoroughly and can maturely and objectively work through the turbulence of life together. Individuals who set aside precious time to manually repair creaks, maintaining the structural integrity of a home that shelters their affections.

With the diligence of a conservator preserving ancient scripts on papyrus that should have been disintegrated long ago.

The latter rather than the former describes the bond forged between my wife and I.’

Your grip crumpled the side of the paper.

“What does this mean?” Hesitation in your voice as tears blurred your vision of his teal eyes.

“I love you.” He confessed. Three words have been overdue for years.

‘Don’t be filled with false hope’ Your mind echoed.

“I’m not an Omega…”

“That’s not a requirement for love.”

That was it. It was as if you’ve been waiting all this time for him to say those words. The words of affirmation you didn’t know you needed. The key to free you from the cage of insecurity you’ve built for yourself.

Your feet now touched the warm sandy bottom as air rushed back into your lungs.

It looks like you’ve figured it out. Regardless of what definition of love has been pushed by external forces, these feelings he holds for you are objectively pure and true love. His hands tenderly took yours away from its grip on the paper. If you wanted him to, Alhaitham will spend the rest of his life proving it to you. He’ll conduct every experiment and collect all the data points to present to you.

How silly, a red thread spun by two pairs of hands, created through undying trust, respect, and admiration had already tied the two of you in a bond. The love you were trying so hard for had always been right in front of you for five years.

The blanket draped behind your head resembled a wedding veil as the fabric folded and gathered around your trembling body. ‘Beautiful’ He thought.

The room was a mess, sheets and clothes strewn all across the floor. The musk of lust still hung heavy in the air, the residue of sweat and other fluids still clinging to skin. Your hair was all over the place, tears still pouring from your eyes, his hair was no better. But in this moment, there was nothing more Alhaitham wanted to do than this:

“Will you take me, Alhaitham, as your lawfully married husband? To love me through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain?”

Sobs were still wracking through your body, words unable to form in your mouth but you were nodding your head enthusiastically. Your hands felt small firmly holding onto his larger ones.

“I, Alhaitham, will take you as my lawfully married wife. I will love you through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain… I do.”

It was a silly sight to behold, but in this moment as he finally sees a smile break out on your face, it means the world to him.

There’s a saying from a well-known poet from Fontaine it goes as follows:

‘Love is being stupid together.’

And clearly, the two of you have been very stupid. Oh so stupidly in love.

Fin~

Authors note:

The long quote was taken from Stendhal’s The Red and The Black

The last quote is from Paul Valery

Also communication is v important to any relationship, people can’t read minds Alhaitham. If you made it this far, thank you and hope you enjoyed!

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

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sugurizz · 1 year

Text

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[Read contents / TWs before interacting | All works are NSFW +18 | Minors DNI.]

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

• Husband! Nanami - SADIST | contents: established marriage, light BDSM, whipping, pain infliction, dacryphilia.

• Boss Nanami - NAUGTHY | Nanami being HOT, rich, handsome AF, smelling super good | contents: mutual pining, teasing, masturbating (M! receiving), unprotected sex, shoe grinding, Nanami needing wifey pussy.

• Brainrot Trilogy - ROUGH LOVER | contents: established relationship, rough sex, dacryphilia, sadism, choking, manhandling, face sitting, teasing.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

• Drabble - MISSING YOU | (Reader's ask) contents: pining, masturabation, lonely Toji.

• Brainrot | contents: rough sex, chocking, breeding kink.

• Brainrot | He lays it down.

• Toji - NAUGTHY HABITS | contents: Toji is a sexual eye candy.

• Construction worker Toji | contents: rough fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, lots of cum.

• Newly married Toji - HOT SPRINGS | contents: established marriage, grinding, titty sucking, unprotected sex, hot springs sex, spanking, choking, breeding kink.

• Annoying him for fun - RECKLESS BRATTITUDE | contents : rough spanking, heavy degradation (use of words: slut, bitch etc...), rough/unprotected sex.

𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

• Ex boyfriend hdcs - HIGHLY TOXIC | contents: Dark content, Dubcon, toxic ex, rough/unprotected sex, breeding kink.

• True-form Sukuna - MONSTER | contents: slight Monsterfucking, sadist! Sukuna, manhandling, slapping, dacryphilia, pain infliction, slight BDSM, teasing, begging, overstimulation, orgasm control, squirting, fingering turning into fisting, double penetration (two cocks! and four arms! Sukuna).

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

• Yoga instructor Geto | contents: teasing, pussy eating, unprotected sex.

• Depressed Suguru - HIS SOLE HEALER | contents: supportive gf, cuddles, comfort, unprotected sex, masturbating (M! receiving), rough fingering, mirror sex.

• Sugu x stretchmarks | contents: teasing, unprotected sex, body worship, pussy eating.

• Brainrot | contents: teasing, unprotected sex.

• Brainrot | contents: fingering, teasing, implied fisting.

𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐎𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮

• Cutest mf ever - BEACH BOY | Yuta hides a SCHLONG under his cute demeanor | contents: teasing, ass/pussy eating, Big cock! Yuta, unprotected sex, squirting, lots of cum.

• Part 2 - LOVER BOY | He can’t get enough of your pussy. so he comes back for round 2. | contents: mutual pining, unprotected sex, spanking, dirty talk.

• Nursing handjob | contents: handjob, titty sucking, unprotected sex, lots of cum too.

𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢

• Taking you on a date - Horny Bf | You tease him so much he fucks you dumb | contents: teasing, unprotected sex.

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

• Needy Bf - GIVING HIM A SHOW | contains: mutual pining, teasing, slightly sadist Gojo, stripping, begging.

• Brainrot - PUNISHMENT

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐱 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔

• Drabble | (Reader's ask) contents: suggestive content, flirting.

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨

• DJ! Choso - EXPENSIVE MAN | contents: teasing, nipple play, titty sucking, rough/unprotected sex.

𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐒

• Dads, dads, dads - JJK Daddies | contents: wholesome fluff~

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bakubunny · 2 months

Note

Ahhhhhh congrats on 2.5K!!! If I may be so bold…. Um um um…. maybe a little blueberry lemon pie for a chubby gal? With Shiggy or Dabi or Hawks? :3 AH this is such a fun menu <333

okay okay. i put this one off until i had a minute because it was sent in a couple days past the deadline, but i can’t let a long time mutual go unanswered. <3 i hope this was worth the wait! thanks so much for being here, love!

tw: dark content, stalking, captive darling, dubcon/noncon

name: shigaraki tomura

order: blueberry lemon pie

blueberry lemon: yandere!tomura is both a gamer and a recluse… an obsessive one. he met you online one day. your voice was so pretty, he couldn’t get it out of his head. he tried to act normal and cool when you wanted to be friends on discord, invited him to where you hang out with all your other in game friends. but the saccharine, smooth lilt of your voice stuck in the back of his mind for weeks on end. you maybe flirted with him a bit every now and then, or so he thought, but he wasn’t sure…. then one day, you posted a picture in one of the group chats. nothing special, just you with your dog. that’s when the claws of his obsession sunk in deep - he had to know who you were; your pretty, chubby cheeks made his skin itch and his stomach turn in a way he couldn’t ignore.

it didn’t take him long to find your address based on the background. took him only a few more weeks to craft a plan to make you all his own, his pretty little gamer girl stuck in his basement. he tracked you down, knocked on your door late one night, and for some stupid reason, you answered.

“hey, dollface. you look even prettier in real life,” tomura said with a sadistic grin.

that was six weeks ago, the day your fate was sealed by a man with cracked lips and a wild look in is eye. now tomura kept you bound in his room and naked when he was home. your hands stayed bound and your collar tied to his desk when your body wasn’t bound to his bed in all your teary eyed glory, begging to be let go. but you didn’t understand just yet that you were now his. his soft little doll, his muse, to do with as he pleased. he made you keep his cock warm during long sessions of gaming, dug his fingers into the plush of your thighs as stress relief no matter how sore your poor jaw or cunt was. he took out all his anger with his dick in your tight, plump ass whenever he rage quit. he fucked you every night until you couldn’t think, until you cried, watched in awe the way your cute tummy jiggled with every punishing thrust….

but tomura wasn’t all mean. some days, he clung to you. he gently sucked on and played with your tits if you’d let him, asking so timidly it was almost heartbreaking. he’d bury his face in your warm, pillowy flesh, aching just to feel your skin against his when his mind wouldn’t quiet down. he rocked his hips into yours slowly until there were tears in his eyes, waiting for the day his darling doll would love him back.

#this is more of a drabble than a hc but i hope that makes up for waiting so long <3 #are we still calling him shiggy now #i feel like he deserves his old name back #i want to hug him #he’s so traumatized and hhhdnfnfbf #bunny’s 2.5k celebration #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #x reader #chubby reader #shigaraki smut #bnha smut #mha smut

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call-sign-shark · 4 months

Text

Tangled Desires (and Broken Innocence)

Summary: In the gritty streets of Birmingham, the Shelby brothers rule with an iron fist. The source of their success in the criminal underworld? Their loyalty to one another. Yet, everything changes when a mysterious girl named Lola Haze and her family arrive in town. Young, bratty, and irresistible in her short sundress, she stirs Tommy, Arthur, and John's curiosity. In her attempt to flee from a toxic home and the awful secrets she hides, Lola decides to ignite the three brothers' desire. Yet she soon understands that these violent delights can only have violent ends and that she will never escape this hell she created: a hell located between love and abuse with three men.

TW: Extreme violence, M/M/F/M, kidnapping, porn with plot, rough sex, huge age gap (Lola is legal), Dubcon, mention of child abuse, highly inspired by Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov and Lana Del Rey's song. We don't know Lola's real name so consider her (Y/N).

🫧 Playlist

🫧 Theme Song: Lolita by Lana Del Rey

🫧 Masterlist:

Coming soon on Tumblr too.

Chapter 1: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 2: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 3: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 4: c o m i n g . . .

Chapter 5:

Chapter 6:

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

(More to come?)

🫧 Author's notes:

This will be a multi-chapter fic but the posting schedule will be irregular and I really don't know where I'm going with this. All I can tell you is that don't get fooled by the pink - this was supposed to be Halloween so it’s extremely dark, noncon and disturbing.

Also, I don't expect this to be popular. If you still want to be tagged just leave a little comment.

Please don't force yourself to read because you're my mutuals. It's okay to stay safe.

#Peaky blinders #Tommy shelby #Tommy shelby x yn #Tommy shelby imagine #Tommy shelby x oc #Arthur Shelby #arthur shelby x y/n #Arthur Shelby x oc #John Shelby #john shelby x y/n #John Shelby x oc #Peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinders imagine #Tommy shelby smut #Arthur Shelby smut #John Shelby smut #Tangled Desires

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yawnderu · 5 months

Note

non con means non consensual

no consent = rape

can you explain why you don’t think writing rape is an issue and that it shouldn’t go unreported? i’m curious

please be kind i’m genuinely curious as to why people think it’s ok to write about

This has been explained multiple times and— not to be rude, but you can easily do your own research. It's tiring explaining this over and over, but here we go again.

TW: talks of SA and rape.

If you think it's an issue, Tumblr and media gives you the options to blacklist words, tags, and even usernames, in case blocking is somehow not an option.

There are things called dark fics, which include topics such as dubcon, rape, and other things. The fact that an author writes about these topics doesn't mean you should report their content or account, it's actually very easy to avoid, and you're responsible for your own triggers and media consumption. Every single author who writes dark fics and I've seen in the COD fandom writes the trigger/content warnings at the beginning of their fics because we understand it's not for everyone.

I've explained this before, but as someone who used to get molested/SAd since middle school and until my late teens, writing about these scenarios helps me cope. Why? Because I get to have control over what I write and situations similar to everything that happened to me, and I get to pick which character is doing that, rather than all the people who did things to me.

Some rape and SA victims develop kinks related to it, and that's totally okay. The fact that we write things about it does NOT mean in any way, shape or form that we want this to happen to our readers or ourselves, it's simply a kink that oftentimes comes from being a victim ourselves. It's all a fantasy, a controlled environment where we can write these things and have control over it, unlike in our real lives.

You may not agree with these things being written and that's where the fact that you can easily avoid them comes into play. It's truly as easy as dismissing a post, blacklisting words/tags, and blocking the creator. Trust me, no creator will ever care that you block them. I have so many people blocked in here, including some of my mutual's mutuals or followers and that has never been an issue.

Dark fics are not for everyone and that's totally okay, but reporting a creator's account for writing a sexual fantasy with fictional characters is something way too extreme. We're not posting rape videos, we're simply writing things with fictional characters. If you're (in general, not only you) not mature enough to understand why dark media is created, you're likely not old enough to be in our blogs in the first place.

I hope that explained it well and pray that this will finally be the last ask I get about it.

#stray answers

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dottores · 5 months

Text

okay well, i logged back in, obviously, because there are clearly some things that need to be addressed and have been taken out of context. just because i’m leaving doesn’t mean i should sit here and let my name be smeared.

to preface this, anantaru and i had a discussion where we came to a congenial understanding of what happened, there's been an acknowledgment on both sides of misunderstanding and believing distorted rumors and people that we probably should not have, but i’m still going to give a full explanation as to the background of everything so you all can understand and come to your own opinions. plus, if there's going to be a call-out post directed majorly at me made, i want an official address of it.

please do NOT send any hate their way, we have ended this discussion on good terms and have worked out what exactly was stirring this discourse between us. (spoiler alert: there was a third-party shit-stirrer that we both considered a decent friend at the time!)

i don’t really need a reason to block someone, and i shouldn’t have to explain it, but i did and i will again but more explicitly this time: @/anantaru made a post that i did not like. it’s as simple as that. it was a post about genshin characters and sex icks and one of the lines were “venti: too drunk.” i’m not anti-dc, but there are topics that i am sensitive about because i was sa’d in my freshman year of college—that is something i have talked about on this blog before, many of you who've been around since my tr era are aware of it. i acknowledged, and tee acknowledged, that this was probably a joke and was not meant to be taken the way i took it, but the aloof/casual way it was mentioned without any TW of implied dubcon, and without acknowledging that it was at least dubcon and could border on noncon in certain interpretations made me uncomfortable. i don’t mind seeing it as long as i’m warned. if it was tagged properly, i would have moved on without much care, but it wasn’t, so i was scrolling through the post snorting and was hit with that and i was made uncomfortable because i didn't like how it was just being passed off as an ick, and i blocked. there was no reason for it to go beyond what it did, yet we are here. anantaru mentioned that if you frequent their blog, you would know that they often write about venti and reader being drunk—i don’t frequent their blog, in fact this was my first encounter with them being reblogged onto my dash by shared mutuals, so it rubbed me wrong. thats the end of it.

i’m not sure the exact timing, but i believe it was two(?) weeks after this, when i reblogged an unpopular opinion’s post with an opinion that i thought was fairly harmless. sure, looking back on it i could have phrased it better, i’m not going to deny that, but pinpointing my one opinion out of the hundreds of others that were objectively far more controversial than mine and crucifying me for it is uncalled for. you guys know very well that i do not have the time or energy to sift through random people’s blogs to look for minors. every once in a while i glance at the notes of shit posts that happen to be on my dash and i’d be a bit startled at finding a minor in them because i still do think you should at least try to catch minors who interact with shit posts because that’s the easiest way to find them. but i was working at a medium sized firm for a year and a half at the time of the post and i am currently in law school, i do not have the time to be psychotic about people’s likes and interaction, and even if i did have the time?? i’ve always gotten incredible interaction from y’all lmfao, imposing the idea that i’m jealous is entirely inane. i do still stand by the fact that my words were twisted, i was made out, more than once and by more than one person after the next bullet point's events, to have been some psycho that stalks peoples’ posts for excuses as to why they get interaction when that is simply not the case.

regardless, after this incident, anantaru made a vague post that was almost directly quoting my tags from the reblog and was thus sent to me because many shared mutuals put together that it was about my tags. this was upsetting for multiple reasons 1) i had blocked anantaru by this point so i felt a bit violated that i was being vagued for something by someone that i blocked. 2) i started getting hate anons en masse after it, some of which were very unnecessarily explicit. needless to say, i was very upset and made a subpost on my main account after noticing i’ve been blocked on ao3 because 1) i was already upset and i didn’t even know why anantaru seemed to have it out for me much less go to the point of blocking on ao3 which leads into my next point and 2) i thought it was a bit ridiculous because the only thing blocking on ao3 stops is people from commenting on posts and i clearly was not going to comment on a post of someone who i was not on good terms with. reasoning aside, anantaru can block who they want and i was out of line for making comments about that in particular. i’ll admit that, and apologize for it.

a screenshot was taken from my personal—not a good moment for me, obviously, but anantaru claimed in their post that it was about them with no evidence. i dmed them about this in particular because i was genuinely confused, we spoke about it, i offered them proof that it was not them because i had a discussion about this post with a close friend at the time of posting it and they believed me. i will attach screenshots below (cropped because there's no reason to attach the whole conversation) because i feel as if this accusation was rather extreme and i wish it would’ve been removed because it was obviously not my best moment. an explanation for the post itself, i was upset over plagiarism accusations regarding something i put my heart and soul into and then seeing the same person that made them consistently on my dash just straight up triggered me, for lack of a better word lol, so i made a vent on my personal. how it got misconstrued as to be anything about anantaru is baffling to me but i suppose that's a question for the subject of our next bullet point. i don’t want to go into detail about the accusations in themselves because i don’t want people to send the actual person who it’s about hate. regardless, that post was not about anantaru, i have never called them a cunt nor have i ever called them a gatekeepy cunt, though i’m beginning to think i should probably remove the word from my vocabulary atp, i use it far too flippantly. anyway, i do not know them well enough to formulate any sort of opinion like that. aside from that, in our discussion we came to an understanding over it and i wish that would have been cleared on their blog as wel. so i'll attach here (i crossed some out because i don't want to breach any boundaries regarding what anantaru might be comfortable sharing but i do think it's fair for me to want this particular point fully cleared as it was a bold accusation remaining up):

5. in our discussion, we came to realize that we have/had a shared mutual who was fostering discourse between the two of us. many of you will recognize her as audri aka alucrds, who has supposedly left tumblr by this point—i suspected this and anantaru has confirmed it while we were talking. audri was sending anantaru my posts claiming that they were about anantaru, but i will stress that the only actual discussions i ever had with anyone about anantaru was with tee and eris about that initial joke because it had upset me at the time, it never extended beyond that and it certainly was never with audri. my only conversation with audri that mentioned anantaru at all was probably around a week or so after i made the post in point 3, when audri asked me about ao3 blocking in casual conversation and i offhandedly mentioned that anantaru had blocked me on there—audri was a close friend at that point and iirc, she had actually told me right after that that anantaru had her blocked on tumblr, i had no idea that they'd been mutuals at all but either way, it was an offhanded comment that led to nowhere (or so i thought LOL). looking back on it, it was clearly her baiting me into giving her information about the post i made a week or so prior because after talking with anantaru, they explained that they got an anonymous message claiming that i was shit talking them for blocking them on ao3 and the only person that could have put together that the vent post from point 3 was about anantaru was audri herself. audri continued to evidently cherry-pick random vent posts of mine to show anantaru and claim that they were about them. why? i wish i could tell you. i considered audri a decent enough friend, and though she had her fair share of issues with mutuals and other friends of mine, i never really thought she’d stoop to this with me. but i guess there’s really no explaining people who thrive in discourse.

6. my comment in my most recent post about being harassed on ao3 and in comments and in asks was not about them at all. i thought it was very clearly about heliotropes (my dottore series) and pressure to update from certain readers, but i'm clarifying that now.

7. i never intended on directly addressing this, which is why i did not directly name anantaru in my post, if i’d known at the time that tee was going to end up addressing all of this, i would’ve just been straight up with all of it.

anyway, i think that’s all, hopefully this will be the last post for real as i am tired mentally and now i am also physically sleep deprived. i've been up since three so forgive me for typos and grammar errors. this all has gone on for over a year. sorry for all the discourse on y'all's dash, wish i could have left with a bit more grace than this. rumors have been blown out of proportions and blindly believed, things have been taken out of context, such is life. i made my fair share of mistakes on my personal blog with my vents, others have admitted and owned up to their own mistakes, some will never admit to their mistakes. such is life. it moves on, always does. i know all of y'all are smart enough to come to your own opinions.

over and out, sorry again, and logged out (hopefully for real this time),

cat

#tw discourse

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1-800-cr33py · 1 year

Text

Forelsket

(n) the euphoria experience when you first fall in love

Okay so its not the best, Benadryl making life hard rn TvT

Word count: 3400

TW: It’s HABIT cmon nw, dubcon, he kinda breaks in????? Dom/sub undertones but never stated outright, breeding kind kinda, my bad writing while im sick.

Haven’t wrote smut for a while so this will probably be re-written when Im in my right mind

The taste of you was heavy on his tongue, so much so that every word, every breath was you, and only you.

Balance. That's what the universe needs, enforced. A never-ending balance that no one, not ever the strongest or oldest of Entities challenged. Where there was light, there shall be dark and vice versa. Habit hated it. He hated seeing people heal, he hated seeing a familiar iridescent form from the corner of his eye. It was a never ending cycle; Habit would bring some undeserved wrath to some poor mortal unfortunate enough to have caught his eye, or maybe it was his hatred for the Slender Man that that pushed him, but nonetheless he’d drag out some unnecessary,torturous game that only he finds entertaining, and there you’d be. When Habit was created, born of hate and trickery; you were also brought forth. A being of an oh so tender light that even he could only stare in a curious awe. You were his balance, always there to counteract whatever damage he’d done. Habit hated you for a while, avoiding you for the longest, trying to reverse whatever you did; and for a while those feelings were mutual. You, still young and naive, believed that this was some kind of sick punishment that you’d somehow earned yourself in the brief moments you’d met the creators. Fos, your creator, a being of an eternal, cold light, caressed your cheek and sent you on your way, giving you favored blessings and best wishes. You were a favorite, a purer being that they’d created to serve as a buffer; sometimes you’d wish you weren’t. Habits, well habits made you sick. He’d toy with mortals like he was a creator himself,a god. And you’d mess with him back all the same, pulling his horn like appendages, calling him out on his name; a constant back and forth you'd both soon tire of.

“ You think you’re so much better than I, don’t you, pretty? “ his voice, rough and condescending, questioned, his many eyes all gazing down at you.

“ Of course I do, mutt. I am better. ‘ You hated this man, if he even was one. It didn’t matter how many times you changed your form, he’d always make it his mission to make you feel small, weak. You couldn’t take much more after the Dark Ages, too much suffering and not enough time to fix it. You, and your brethren failed for many, many years. Fos, in all their luminal glory, felt pity upon you all, and gave most of you the sanctuary you needed to regain the lost energy and strength you’d lost during the seemingly endless wars and revolutions. It had been 798 years to be exact, and many things changed since that day. Ligo Fos, as your kind had come to be called, were ridded of your old appearances, no matter the differencing in forms. The small, branch like ‘horns’ fell, and your skin became soft, many ranges of colors that still felt limiting.

‘ We must cater to the mortals, my dear children. ‘ Fos's voice was caring, yet stern. The Creator willed it, so as dutiful servants you must obey, lest you want to be repurposed. It would be alright.

Time skip

Ligos Fos, elusive creatures known to heal the sick and punish the guilty. Beings of a light so bright that only artists can gaze upon. All these titles boosted your ego. Mortals viewed anything they didn’t understand as a higher being. They viewed your blessings as some mystical power that was your own. Laughable.

As the sun rose and fell, you spent your days following your hellish counterpart. Trailing behind him wherever he went, fixing his wrongs. It was the late 90s when he caught on. Habit would flick his eyes to your hidden location and smile a cruel,twisted smirk that had only gotten worse than you remember it. Habit had changed, he wasn't a twiggy, short thing made of the darkest ink anymore. He’d grown into what mortals called a ‘man’. He’d taken on a vessel of sorts. A human man, barely reaching 19 summers at this point. You had to admit, he would be attractive once he grew into his looks. This ‘highschool’ and ‘college’ would be stressful, and human hormones would fluctuate often. Habit, or Evan, as he’d been calling himself nowadays, was almost dog-like, always chasing down something he shouldn’t, getting overly excited, etc. etc. His antics were cute to you, making you forget that this wasn’t this Evan person, whoever he was. This was Habit, your Habit. The same creature that mocked you, pulled at your cheeks until they were sore, muddied your outerwear. You felt pity for whoever Evan was, because you knew well enough that he was gone, his body nothing more than a husk for Habit to use and bend until it broke. For three years you did this, slowly getting closer and closer to the thing you’d been made with. Forced a bond in which you didn’t know how to work with or use in any way.

For the longest it was awkward to say the least. Habit wanted nothing more than to make your life a living hell, doing the most trivial things to irk your nerves for the sake of it.

“ Your cheeks puff up when you get upset, pretty. Did I upset the pretty dove? Ruffle your feathers? “ he, Evan, all but cackled his rough hands cupping your jaw. You were sure you hated him, but even you, in all your prideful ways, had to admit he was attractive. You scoffed at his statement, retreating out the door, your feet stomping angrily. He’d never let you live this down. Habit would call you brattish, daring you to object and ‘prove his point’; yet some part of you wanted that. A part of you that thought about the young man in facetious ways. Ways that would leave a damp spot in your panties. You suppressed these urges for the longest. Fos found it funny when you consulted them, thinking you were defective, broken. One had to admit, you’ve always been a theatrical type. Fos explained you were mature now, one of the first of their creations to fully mature actually; something that had you preening for a while. Fos sent you back to the mortal realm, with no instructions other than to get used to these urges, for they wouldn’t end now that they’ve started. And stars above they weren't wrong about that one bit. During the early months of spring you suffered. Your lower abdomen ached and your fingers didn’t provide you the relief you needed. After you found out about toys, they only satisfied you for about a year in total. By now, your ‘heats’ had begun to hurt progressively more.

➞break

Habit knew something felt wrong. He felt something gnawing at the pit of his stomach, or a nagging voice in the back of the endless void he called a mind. Then it clicked for him. It was the turning of the seasons. Spring was approaching and he’d forgotten about it.. Habit mentally cursed himself. Quickly bringing the phone to cancel any and all plans or work he may have had the next week and a half. Sure his pockets would hurt for a while but he’d manage. After the first few days he began to feel the effects of his upcoming rut, and something told him it would be bad. His urge to nest and hoard was already something when he wasn’t being pumped full of unwanted hormones, but now? Now he’d be growling at air if he felt his space was being threatened. He’d spend his days shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hung loosely around his waist; a thin layer of sweat covered his body as he fanned himself. Habit’s house was on the verge of freezing, yet he still panted like a dog. What made it so much worse was that his cock ached, the tip a hot red now from past abuse and Habit still wasn’t satisfied. By now he was pushing 21 summers, well the vessel was anyways; many of the entities Habit had familiarized himself with in the past now sired many cherub faced cambions, hell, a good many knocked up the Ligos they’d been balanced with when they were created alongside. One acquaintance spoke of how pretty her Ligos looked underneath her. Habit’s mind slowly drifted towards the idea of you, and how you’d look beneath his, whining and begging for him to fuck his cum back into your soaked hole, or maybe you’d beg him to stop, tell him you hated him and that he was lucky to even be this close to you in the first place. Habit laughed at the last thought, his cock twitched as he palmed himself through his pants. He’d have you. He needed to have the pleasure of seeing such an elusive, prideful creature reduced to a whimpering, blubbering mess below him, your voice cracking and begging for him to slow down, begging him to breed you. The mere thought of shooting his cum down your sopping hole made a guttural groan leave his throat as he continued to palm himself through his sweatpants. He ached for you, longed for you.

-with you-

The empty feeling in your stomach was enough to make you whine. As much as you adored your Creator, they did little to help ease the tightness. Your hand was buried between your thighs, fingers soaked with your cum, and yet it still wasn’t enough. You needed something more than just your fingers and toys; you’d brought yourself to orgasm after fucking orgasm and yet you still felt wrong. Your body was slick with sweat at this point, the scent of sex heavy in the air around you. As you bit on the now clipped fingernail, listening to the rain outside the small glass window, sometimes you’d like to think that your savior would waltz out of the treeline to solve all your problems; you’d laugh at the childish thoughts then. Now you wish they would. You continued your daydreaming, oblivious to the creaking floorboards. You smelt him before you saw him. He smelt like teakwood and fire; he smelt like home, safety.

‘ Habit. ‘ your voice croaked, hoarse from the screaming and whining you’ve done. Habit laughed, his voice gravelly as he continued.

‘ So this is what my little starlight does in her freetime? Stuffing her cunt like whore? ‘

Habit laughed as he kicked himself off the doorframe to stalk closer to your now shaking body. You weren’t scared, but the anticipation, the adrenaline. You could taste it, it was addicting, for once in your life you allowed yourself to become addicted to it. Dark eyes raked across your body, taking note of how your nightwear clung to your sweat covered skin. You looked absolutely delectable like this, and you didn’t even know. Habit was an impatient being already, but what little patience he had left was thinning, the last string so close to popping before he allowed those urges he’d taken so long to suppress. The scent of sex made Habit lick his lips as he crawled atop you, muscles tense as his hands pulled at your sheets. Habit trailed open mouthed kissed down your neck and throat, leaving a trail of bites in his wake, hickeys would be a pain in the ass to cover tomorrow, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about the past resentment you had for this man, you didn’t care about the past teasing, arguments. Anything. All that mattered right now was him.

Then he stopped, and gods above you wanted to tear his throat out.

“ Tell me to stop dove. “ Habit’s voice was hushed, raspy even. He wanted you to tell him to stop, tell him to go fuck himself, find some cheap whore he could dispose of after he was done with them. He wanted you to tell him to go to hell, you weren’t like him, but yet here you were, shoving your head to the side, begging him not to stop. Your thighs pushed apart to fit his body against yours. To Habit, you didn’t want him to stop, no you wanted him to ruin you for anyone else, to leave an imprint of himself on your soul. A guttural growl left Habit’s throat as he bit down on your throat, a hand moving to grip your jaw.

“ I told you to do something starlight, " the man spoke through gritted teeth, a cruel smile etching its way onto his face. Your eyes locked with his, dark eyes a flurry of emotions. Lust. Need. Somethings else you couldn’t name. To think you’re relearning each other after so long apart, and yet he still remembered which parts made you weak. A smile etched itself on your features just when you settled your hand against Habit’s that still lay resting on your jaw. When you turned your head to gently kiss his palm.

“ If I wanted you to stop, I would've made you a while ago, Habit. '' your voice was muffled in his palm. “ And right now, I want you to ruin me. “ Habit’s eyes darkened at your words, pulling your hips closer to his, you almost whined at the feeling of his cock through the material of his pants. Habit’s lips were heavy against yours as he dragged his hands down your body, pawing at any exposed flesh he could feel, your soft nightwear being pushed out of the way for his preying hands to feel for more. You felt whole. His touch was electric, leaving sparks wherever his hands found sanctuary. Habit liked toying with his prey, feeding off their fear, their tears; and you were no exception. He’d tease, he’d edge if that's what it took for you to break before him. How long would you last? How long before you were fucked dumb? To braindead to speak coherent sentences? He’d find out. He’d find out if it took him all night and the next day. Habit’s hand slowly found itself between your thighs, the damp spot in your panties making him chuckle. His lips found your throat once again as his fingers traced your slit, gathering up your slick on his fingers before pushing them into your soaked hole. A breathy whine leaving you lips, eyes closing as your head lolled back into your pillow. Habit’s pace was slow, his fingers curling deliciously at that spot that made you want to scream. He wanted you to beg, to put your pride aside and ask him for your release that you craved so desperately. Maybe he’d be nice, maybe he’d set aside his usual cruelty and sadistic want and just give you what you wanted for once!

“ Fat chance, pretty! Tell me what I want and then you can cum.” Habit was a bastard, he wouldn’t give anybody anything for free, what made you any different. And you gave in. You begged, borderline screamed pleas for him to just let you come undone, the familiar tightness in your stomach threatening to pop; but he didn’t allow it. Habit pried his fingers from your cunt and brought them to his lip. The sight was erotic, taboo. Watching him lick your slick off his fingers made your thighs close, or at least attempt to. Habit groaned and threw his head back, eyes closed as the corners of his mouth made a lopsided grin. “ Gods you taste better than I imagine dove. “ he voiced his praise, your cheeks felt hot as you averted your eyes. “ Please…” a weak plea left your lips. It was almost laughable to Habit, you were throwing a tantrum all because he wouldn’t let you get off? Cute, but he’d be nice just this once. His cock was painfully hard at this point, the tip a burning red as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his member. Your mouth practically watered at the sight, but there’d be another time you’d get to suck him dry. Your panties had long since been discarded, the fabric laying in tattered shreds on your floor somewhere alongside the promise to buy you more. You squirmed, trying to find any friction you could but Habit’s firm hands kept you still, his fingers sure to leave bruises with his grip on your hips. “ No no pretty, tell me what you want. “ he chided, a sadistic grin on his face. His hair clung to his forehead, a sheen of sweat coating his body as his muscles tensed. He was holding back, waiting for those words to fall out of your mouth, and gods was it worth the wait. “ Please gods! Please just fuck me Habit! Use me! I don’t care just let me cum-” your sentence was cut short as Habit thrusted his cock into you without so much as a warning, tears pricking your eyes from the sudan intrusion. Something between a growl and groan left the man’s throat. Your warmth sucked him in. Habit gave you a brief moment to adjust before his pace was quickened, his grip on your hips bruising as your back arched. His intent was to breed you, mark your insides as his. You were his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to breed. The thought of you round with his children made his cock twitch. You’d be such a good mother, such a doting mate. Your sweet sounds filled his ears, urging him on. Habit was running on pure instinct at that moment, no words were spoken between you two, because they didn’t need to be. A hand left your hip to press on your stomach, a toothy smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. You looked so pretty, all fucked out, dazed, and all from his cock. “ Aw is my little dove all fucked out? To dumb on cock to speak now? “ Habit cackled as he left soft slaps to your cheek, and all you could do was nod. Your brain long fried as he fucked his cock into you. Gargled pleas left your lips, yet you didn’t know what you were begging for at this point. For him to stop? Fuck you harder? He didn’t care, all Habit cared about was fucking you full of his kids. Habit groaned as your cunt squeezed his cock, a rough smack landed on your thigh making you jump. His dark eyes met yours as he hissed out a threat “ You better not fucking cum yet. Not until I say so. “. He left no room for objection, so all you could do was whine and take it, cunt fluttering around his cock as he mixed degrading words with his filthy praises. A high-pitched whine left your throat as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh and burying your face into his shoulder; your pleas falling on deaf ears. You begged, cried, pleaded for Habit to just let you cum, that you’d do anything. Habit’s voice was hoarse as he laughed, a grunt heaved from his throat.

Your vision turned white as you came. It took a few moments to come back to your senses and even then they were fried. Everything felt fuzzy almost, hazy. Habit, panting and showering you with sloppy kisses and half-formed praises lay on top of you. His weight was nice, you felt protected and warm. “ You’ll be such a good little mate won’t you? “ he grinned, wiping the stray hairs from your forehead before planting a kiss on it. “ Such a good mother too? Maybe I’ll just keep you plugged so it takes? You’d like that wouldn’t you pretty? You want to make me happy don’t you? Yeah, you do. “ His voice was background noise to you at this point, but his words made you smile. You felt whole, full. No longer longing for something you couldn’t have or couldn’t reach. Habit hummed as he stroked your face, watching you doze every now and then. You’d keep him happy enough for now. And busy.

“ Oh don’t think I’m done yet, starlight, I’m just gracious enough to give you a break! Say thank you, why don’t you? “

#1800cr33py #emh smut #habit smut #habit emh #habit x reader #emh evan x reader #emh evan smut #emh x reader #emh x reader smut #slenderverse smut #slenderverse x reader smut #Im so sorry this is ass #send reqs #slenderverse #everymanhybrid x reader #habit everymanhybrid #everymanhybrid #evan everymanhybrid

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infraaa · 2 years

Note

HI ITS ME AGAIN- soo, me and my mutuals have been talking about this.

(and I may or may not have an obsession with affogato)

May i have a hc for affogato if he was a naga?(smuty preferred, if not thats fine) and if ya can’t do naga affo thats fine.

『yk why does affo fit as a naga? so ironic right?』

naga!Affogato smut headcanons »» reader assumed gn!

context: a naga is a human snake hybrid, originating from eastern culture, most notably Hinduism. These proud and somewhat haughty creatures typically have an exotic and alluring aura to them, similarly to sirens. They are not evil however, in fact, they show benevolence and curiosity towards humans unless provoked. But, due to their semi divine presence, some may find them threatening. (In other words, affo when he took the throne basically-)

tw// nsfw themes, constriction, hypnosis, choking, dumbification, exhibitionism, dubcon

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

oh wow so how did you find affo like this huh?

well it’s very simple. let’s say you were out on an adventure or something and you found a lake. but you found something the peaked your interest swimming around in that lake and you were like 😯

well what better way to find out than to go see 🤪

he slithered out of the lake and you were astounded by what you saw…

dark scales of purple white and black, shiny and glistening from the water and the sun’s rays. and even though his hair is soaking wet he still looks gorgeous.

he has a voice as smooth as espresso (see what I did there?) and as rich as ice cream are his eyes, a creamy off white with those feline pupils… so alluring, so divine… his gaze made you quiver in your boots.

he saw this and grew hungry. It had been a while since he had a mate…

he slithers up to you and wraps you up in his tail, like coils wrapping around an unsuspecting rodent.

his eyes spin like spirals, shades of purple and white cloud your vision like ribbons, clouding your mind and your senses, like melting chocolate he tears at your intuition, softly lulling you in with gentle snake like whispers and flicks of a reptilian split tongue across your cheeks.

after he declares your inhibitions melted and gone, he lays you down and feasts his eyes on your soaked clothes. he can see through your shirt, the wind around the lake betraying your body.

he takes a moment to stare at you before bending over and slithering (get it?) off your bottoms, your undergarments, so that your ass touches the soft grass underneath.

he would be the one to toy with your body as you lay there in agony.

does he want to put the tip of his tail in? no no no, what about his fingers? his tongue? ugh, so many options!

he’ll touch your body and act like no one’s there, but when the other tourists come by and see the mess you’re in, he expects you to look at them and softly commands you to do so.

he has no shame, absolutely none. he may actually want people to watch the two of you part take in this sinful rapture.

he will make you obey. he commands, you obey. he gives you orders, you carry them out. dutifully. with feeling. he wants them dumb, wrapped around his fingers as he fucks you.

and during it all, he will wrap you up in a breeding ball, constricting you and choking you for however long he chooses in whatever form he pleases, and you will take it.

choke on his fingers as you cum— he loves that. he loves it when he stops moving his tail inside of you and you grind on it and wine and beg that he keeps moving, that he’s making you feel good. he wants more of your voice and he will be sure to remember it for the next time you make your stop at his lake.

and he will make sure they you come back for more, he won’t let you forget him… under any circumstance.

#infrawrites #infradelivers #infra@212!#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #crk x reader #crk headcanons #crk affogato cookie #crk affogato #affogato x reader #affogato cookie #tw smut #smut headcanons #x reader smut #naga x reader #naga

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qierxing · 9 months

Text

Femme Fatale

Commission by the lovely Veritaveris <;3

Yan! Arlecchino x F! OC TW/CW: Dubcon, NSFW, Implications of human trafficking/pimping, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking and shady activities, background appearance of some characters

If there was anything Arlecchino hated more than idiots, it was to repeat herself.

The bouncer in front of her looks queasy and about ready to faint. It’s a common reaction to see from people, when it is the Harbinger’s own Knave showing up at the venue. Still, she does not suffer fools, and she is not about to start now.

“What’s the hold up?” She asks, crimson eyes pinning the man in place with an ice cold glare.

“Ma’am, please, but one cannot enter without an invitation–” the bouncer squeaks, knobbly knees already knocking together out of fright. A pathetic dog about ready to piss himself. How did such a mutt find its way in this kind of business? Give it a day or two, and she would bet he would be lying cold in a pond somewhere.

“Even with this?” The gleam of the badge shines under the glass chandelier of the lavishly decorated lobby. Even the bouncer (if he had been trained well under Lord Sangemah Bay) should know its modest engraving: the four pointed cross with circles combined with the four anvil points displays an emblem that is notorious and speaks for itself.

His eyes bulge so widely, she swears she can see the veins pulsing in them. Defeated, he bows at a perfect right angle.

“R-Right this way, d-dear customer…”

He should’ve kept his mouth shut and led the way in the first place. She follows him through the lobby to the long hallways plastered with priceless traditional paintings and antiques, most likely depicting or showcasing Sumeran Purana tales of old. A statue depicting Lord Kusanali, a painting depicting King Deshret’s figure over his subjects…It’s fascinating and inspiring to see, but today she is not here to view that kind of art. No, what has led the Knave to the palace of Lord Sangemah Bay is something far more precious and unconventional.

The wooden double doors are inconspicuous, but as they open, they reveal unto a stage that she has never seen. In here, is a performance that has yet to unfold.

Unlike the fancy theaters or the smoky bars of Fontaine, the tables are low, surrounded by intricately embroidered pillows and blankets upon which several customers are already seated by kneeling or crossing their legs. Each table has a dimly lit candle held in a lotus-like case, barely illuminating the faces of the people who are seated. Some turn to observe her in curiosity, but with a deliberate stare back, they whip their heads back around sheepishly. The bouncer shows her to a table closest to the stage and quickly bows out in a hurry, no doubt wanting to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

Just as well. She kneels in one graceful motion upon a pillow, leaning an elbow upon the table. The show is about to start, and she will not allow herself to miss a single moment of it. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots orange and when she turns her head, she’s met face on with dead eyes that remind her of the deepest abyss of the seas. Her lip curls. What is that eye sore doing here? She taps her fingers against the table in annoyance, the sound echoing from steel tips meeting wood. They both look away, a mutual begrudging truce to not acknowledge each other.

The heavy curtains finally draw back, revealing a masked auctioneer spreading her arms on stage.

“My thanks for waiting, dear customers! The auction of Lord Sangemah Bay will now begin!” She cries out, and applause starts, with Arlecchino joining in out of bored politeness.

The auction is more of a menagerie rather than a solemn tense affair. Each ‘item’ is brought out, the next one even shinier than the last. First, a famed ballerina renowned in Snezhnaya, and then an artist known for their salacious works, and the list goes on. The auctioneer is like a ringleader to a circus as she deliberately drives the crowd’s mood to higher frenzy, hyping the event without pause. People call out bids enthusiastically, some getting into heated back and forths, driving the price higher and higher, much to the obvious delight of the purple haired auctioneer.

She clicks her tongue in distaste. These heathens have no style.

“And finally, one of our most distinguished items! Dear customers, you may recall a popular pop idol that made headlines back several years ago–that’s right, presenting the lovely Briony Ostaras!!” The auctioneer calls, dramatically gesturing to the middle of the stage.

Arlecchino straightens ever so slightly, leaning forward. The lady standing in the middle of the stage clearly doesn’t know what to do as the crowd examines her like an unknown specimen under a magnifying glass. The diamonds that glitter on her head and neck shine under the spotlight but she knows better. Such cheap fakes don't suit the dove, but that will be for another time–now it is the time to act.

“Starting at a hundred mora…do I have a hundred mora?” Lord Sangemah Bay calls, reaching out to the murmuring audience.

Unlike other items, there is a cloak of hesitance hovering over the audience. It’s clear they do not understand the significance of such a treasure. She raises her sign immediately.

“I have a hundred mora–oh! Another challenger, then two hundred mora!” Her eyes snap immediately to the eye sore she deigned to ignore earlier, seeing an insufferable smirk in response.

No matter. She has experience in dealing with such brutes.

“My goodness, we have three hundred mora!” The auctioneer dances in excitement at Arlecchino raising her sign again. “Three hundred mora, three hundred mora, do I have a bidder?”

Through gritted teeth, she sees him raise his sign in response.

“Five hundred mora! Ooh, ladies and gents, we have five hundred-oh! Six hundred mora!! We have six hundred!!”

Bring it. Arlecchino snarls at Childe sneering back at her. The truce has been broken, and now all hands are off.

People mutter uneasily in the seats nearby, unsettled by the two fiercely raising their signs in a fight they cannot understand. She cares not for others’ impressions. People have called her insane, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and many more names–but she’s long lost her interest in such playground insults. It’s this carelessness, that she barely catches the sound of soft laughter.

“Oh-ho! A new bid, that makes it a thousand mora!” Lord Sangemah Bay shouts in amusement. Both Childe and the Knave whips their heads around to see the intruder interrupting their duel, to find the heir of the prestigious Kamisato clan smiling several tables back.

Their eyes meet again and once more there is an understanding: let’s get this nuisance out of the way first.

Even the Kamisato heir must bend under the combined power of two Harbingers. In no time, the young man no longer raises his sign, pursing his lips in quiet dissatisfaction. There is only so much that he could bet as he must look after his own sister and clan, and such things are not subject to freedom compared to what the Harbingers have.

Now she only needs to take care of the mutt that keeps getting in her way.

She recalls an old Fontainian saying: throw a dog a bone and he’ll chase after it. Her younger coworker is a terrifying menace to others, but he was still an immature brat, always chasing after the next thrill. And because of that, it’s all too easy to trick him into thinking he’s won.

The bid can close, but what’s to say that it can’t be negotiated again behind the curtains?

Being part of the Fatui meant being taught that nothing is ever set in stone until you see it with your own eyes. It’s a lesson that that young mutt has yet to understand completely, and she can only smile smugly as Lord Sangemah Bay easily gives up the keys to her treasure upon an even higher offer of mora, the proof glittering in the form of a key to one of her many private bank vaults.

She twirls the key ring around her pointer finger as she melts away into the shadows of the corridors.

—

The bedroom is rather modest, in comparison to what she’s witnessed in the auction.

The walls boast simple candles held up by carved wooden vines and elegant bas reliefs of various Sumeran patterns within the stone. The bed itself is large with heavy silk forest green curtains embroidered with golden leaves and vines that decorate the rim and the body. Although she favors velvet more, this is still acceptable.

She finds her dove kneeling on the plush covers, head bowed in embarrassment and submission.

Throwing her heavy winter coat on a table nearby, she drags over a chair and smoothly sits with crossed legs, leaning back in a casual manner. She takes a moment to run her eyes over the feast before her: pure snowy baby doll lingerie that hugs the figure snugly, perfectly framing the décolletage and hips, with a see through veil flowing out like a fan around her. It seems Lord Sangemah has done her research quite thoroughly: this look was close enough to be a call back of the simple white halterneck dress and veil that Briony wore for her idol debut. Perhaps she’ll consider giving a generous tip to that sly auctioneer.

“Look at me, darling.” She asks–no, commands. Slowly and surely, her treasure raises her head and the pools of green within entice her to fall farther.

“From this moment on, you will do everything I say, understood?”

How delightful as the dear tries so hard to please her by nodding hastily with a shy, strained smile.

“I promise you a world of bliss if you just…”

“...trust me.” A soft squeak leaves Briony as Arlecchino tugs a dark lace blindfold around her eyes. Tilting her head up with her pointer finger, she leans in and laughs softly.

“Run your hands down, little one, and start pleasuring yourself.”

Of course, there’s hesitation. There always is, when you are staring down the gaping maw of the unknown abyss. Just a little closer. Look over the edge, and let yourself fall.

Briony’s fingers clumsily tug the underwear to the side, revealing her pretty little pussy. With trembling fingers, she works a finger within plush folds and into her slit awkwardly. It’s too cute, really, how she fumbles trying to look sure of herself even though her face is flushed. By the time she’s inserting another finger in, Arlecchino has lost the patience that she used to hold.

There is an art to sex, even if others would like to pretend otherwise. Fontaine is the country of love, even if it's remembered more for its harsh court sentences and judicial proceedings, there is an intuitive understanding that just like making love, it is not dissimilar in the sense that both take effort and dedication. As a Fontainian citizen, such things run in her blood.

Arlecchino swirls her tongue around the cute nub, flicking the tip on the underside and watching with hooded eyes as Briony throws her head back, moaning heatedly. Arlecchino doesn’t bother with shedding her gloves as she places Briony’s legs snugly over her shoulders and wiggles a finger into her heated cunt. Licking her lips at the feeling of hot walls clamping down, she searches within for that special little spot that would send her to heaven.

There. Arlecchino hums in satisfaction at Briony squealing and arching her back off the sweat and slick stained sheets. She can feel her clit twitch and throb under her tongue and with a hard suck, Briony’s hips thrust upward instinctively. Just like a beautiful painting, her body covered with a sweaty sheen highlighted by the room’s coy candlelight, Briony could only be described as the most beautiful muse there could be.

Little by little, Arlecchino paints strokes of blinding pleasure with each addition of her finger, scissoring them within pulsing gummy walls to the rhythm of her clit sucking. Bit by bit, as she layers more waves of stimulation, Briony’s cries grow louder in a crescendo that echoes off the walls, before finally ending in a spurt of juices upon her palm and lips.

Arlecchino lathers her tongue down her hand thoroughly to lick up every single drop of the sweet slick, between the fingers, down her palm, before finally using her teeth to rip off the soiled satin gloves. She repeats the same with her other glove, before running her tongue over her teeth.

Time for the main performance.

“Would you like to dance, amour?” Arlecchino asks, running a hand down Briony’s navel. Her glittering emerald eyes are glazed in pleasure and tears, making for such a pretty picture. It just makes her want even more.

The auctioneer was thoughtful enough to fit the room with toys, and discreet enough to place them in an area not too obvious. Arlecchino chortles internally, tugging on the strap on and squeezing some lube upon the cold silicone. Lord Sangemah has really thought of everything.

She strokes the shaft slowly, warming the lube and silicone so her dove won’t have to suffer the shock of something freezing upon penetration. She can be merciful when she wants to be–tonight will only be a night of honey suckles and sweet fruits. As for the future, who knows?

Briony babbles something incoherent as she rubs the tip of the strap against her throbbing cunt. She smirks, bending over and capturing her delicate wrists in one hand and her thrashing hips in the other.

“Say it clearly, darling. What do you want me to do?”

Briony’s eyes go in and out of focus, clearly attempting to stay in the present, if only barely. Drool dribbles out as she tries to articulate her words.

“I–I w-want…mmh!” She moans, as Arlecchino purposefully presses the tip even harder against her gaping hole, yet still holding back from letting her find her release. “W-want you to…mmh…f-fuck me! I want you to fuck me with your d-dick!!!”

The last part is a desperate wail, and Arlecchino growls as she plunges all the way in, having to hold Briony down as she spasms wildly. It takes several moments and some scratches left by manicured hands for Briony’s body to settle, for her to start rolling her hips in search of climax. Arlecchino thrusts, and with a pleasured whine, she sets an efficient, yet comforting pace that rocks them both with the bed. Briony’s whines and moans pitch higher and higher with each calculated thrust, and even Arlecchino feels herself coming undone soon.

“C-cumming! I’m–”

A gasp leaves Arlecchino’s lips with a final hard thrust, warm cum gushing out and splashing her hips and running down her thighs in rivulets. She’s left breathless, hunched over as she watches Briony shudder through her orgasm, slowly pulling out and slicking back her damp white hair.

“Dors bien mon amour.” She breathes out, watching thick eyelashes blink close into a deep slumber.

–

The warmth of their bodies touching is too addicting to move away from.

If only the world came to a stop. She runs a slow finger down Briony’s eyelashes to her cheek and then her chin. Her face is finally gone from the stress lines that seemed to constantly be stuck since Arlecchino saw her for the first time. Even when Briony was doing well during her popular days, she doesn’t recall the idol ever looking this vulnerable or relaxed, even with the so called candids she managed to snag from paid sources.

She could’ve done something when Briony had been expelled from the studio. It would’ve only been a lift of her pinky finger, as Her Majesty’s Harbinger. Would it be cruel to say she was waiting for her fall?

No, she closes her eyes and leans her head against Briony’s. Many called her willing to change heart too easily, but she would say that her principles are the same. Just like the many children under her care, she only wishes to lessen the amount of those who end up abandoned with no one to care about them. Briony had every right to walk her path and make her own decisions; and she’s never been one to force someone’s hand against their will. Not much, anyway.

Reluctantly, she rises, still gazing in longing upon the lady at her side, breathing quietly in soft slumber. Peeling away and letting the raw cold assault her skin, she shrugs on her button up and jeans. She leaves her winter coat for Briony. There won’t be much need for her previous wardrobe when they can shop in Fontaine for that.

Her protege is awaiting her when she opens the door.

“Your report?”

“Everything is ready for departure, Father.”

“And the apartment?”

“I have convinced the landlord over the residence to permanently close down and have destroyed any records left behind.”

“Good. You’re dismissed–make sure to call the chauffeur before you go.”

She turns back to the door after hearing an affirmative murmur, already putting together the plan for the day. First, she must get Briony up and ready to be driven back to her penthouse, and then after a quick brunch and some rest, they can go shopping for necessities…

Briony has already stirred awake when Arlecchino reenters the room again, sleepily wiping at her eyes and yawning. She blearily blinks in confusion as Arlecchino draws closer.

“What…what’s going on?”

Arlecchino wordlessly holds out her hand and Briony hesitantly raises her own, and watches with dawning realization as emerald green orbs clear to see her without the veil of night and lust. Come the light of day, her dove has begun to see that the very nest she found herself in was not a safe haven, but a trap to clip her wings. Briony’s hand shakes as Arlecchino raises it to her lips and places a chaste kiss, reminiscent of a knight’s oath to their charge.

“Would you like to join me for brunch?”

#yandere genshin impact #my works #commissions

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furrbbyx · 1 year

Text

The Orc's Obsession ch 1: Trapped

REPOST!!!

Edited, for clarity and typos. lol. Approx. 3500 words

This is cross posted on AO3 under the same username.

EXPLICIT and wrong. Please don’t emulate these actions. It was written for fun and none of these characters are real or based on real people.

18+ NSFW MDNI

TW: dubcon kidnapping obsessive behavior

Story summary: You, yes you! You're a plus sized multi-ethnic witch with Y/N and you've caught the attention of a male orc who desperately wants you. Too bad he gives you the creeps and/or you aromantic. Thanks to fate or a bad retrograde you've ended up spending more time alone with this male than you would ever want to. You try your damnedest to overcome his compulsions, and your own.

Ch 1 summary: Y/N has a hard time avoiding the orc who wants to be your love interest after you gets stuck with him in a secluded cabin. He decides to take control of the situation.

Bagul and you are more or less friends. You've known that he has a crush on you for months because he's not subtle.

You had been fatefully introduced at a party by a mutual where he followed you around until you left. Than event turned into a group text with your other mutuals so when anyone planned an event he would inevitably be there waiting to chat your ear off or hover while you interacted with others. Then he started showing up at your job at Drink Me, an artisan drink shop that served all kinds of creatures. he'd linger there trying to spend time impressing you, or getting to know you, or give you gifts. It was embarrassing and annoying and you saw him as a pathetic lovesick orc who couldn't catch a hint in that big skull of his.

You've been very clear with Bagul that you like him as a friend. You don't encourage the gifts and you try to only spend time with him in a group setting. it's easy to brush him off when the shop is busy, but during lulls it's exhausting to force a smile and interest until he leaves for the day. Honestly you've thought about quitting just to get rid of the flight response you've started having when it's time to go in for your shift.

Bagul has been relentless with his affection though and he is just as clear with you that he's not giving up.

Even so, you've somehow ended up in the sidecar of his enormous motorcycle as he drives you into the countryside, away from the city. For weeks the friend group has been planning to take advantage of a camping trip before the summer ends. You personally couldn't make up a good reason not to go even when Bagul offered his father's old hunting cabin for the rendezvous. You knew you would be miserable trying to avoid him in such a close setting for days. He'd also insisted on being the one to drive you since you didn't have a car.

Some of your friends thought his actions were cute because they wanted you, one of the only single people in the group, to feel the bliss of being coupled; or some such bullshit. But you had confided in your best friend Kalani that you were aromantic and completely uninterested in a stalker orc boyfriend. Theyd promised to stick by your side during the trip and even pretend to be your lover if it would make him finally understand.

But Kalani wasn't here.

Uuuuugh, you groan inwardly.

This is such a shit show.

Even if the ride outside of town was beautiful. Not long after leaving the last of the villages that surrounded your town, which was the urban center of of the local city, the landscape turned pastoral and golden-green with ripening fields. You especially enjoy the rolling hills covered in wild grasses and flowers. You had expected the wind to be terrible riding in the side car with him. Though it was loud, thanks to a little windshield it wasn't so bad that you'd be blowing bugs out of your nose later.

He stops once to fuel up. You get out to explore the old lodge turned country store that accompanied the fuel stations. You explore the aisles of kitchy toys until you are slowly lured by a delicious smell to the back of the store. There you find a huge display case full of every fried food known on Earth. Huge baked sweet potatoes dripping in brown sugar and butter are cozied up next to fried dough, pizza sticks, chicken wings and heaps of other delectables. It looks like they even serve funnels cakes and fried cookie dough balls you notice, reading the menu pasted up high on the wall behind the counter.

You are just deciding what you wanted when you feel a hot body slide close behind you, looming over your space. The tiny hairs on your arms stand up.

"Hey don't wander around unfamiliar places Y/N. Stay close to me, ok?" Bagul places his hand on your shoulder with squeeze as he bends down to say this in your ear. You side step his touch.

"I'm fine. This place has a great selection. I think I'll get some snacks for later."

"Are you sure you should be eating...?" he starts in but he puts up his hands to ward off the sharp look you give him and keeps his mouth shut.

Bagul hovers around you as you make your selections, and he even points out his own favorites and shakes his head at the not so great options. He tells the mothman working behind the counter to make your potatoes in a way called the lodge special which was sure to put you into a food coma. You are able to let some of your prickliness go. Even though he takes over some of the ordering by picking things for you, he'd pays for everything, and he knew this place so it's a good idea to trust his judgement. At least on the local food.

Your good mood lasts until Bagul turns off of the road. The air shifts to blow a little cooler as Bagul drives you up and into the hills where the grasses turn to woods. It smells fresh and calming. Yet your anxiety is ramping up. You hope people will be at the cabin before you and Bagul arrive so that you could enjoy some distance between you. Enjoying this trip meant ignoring him as much as you could.

Bagul steers the motorcycle slowly down into a long driveway between lots of trees. The packed earth winding road is long and from what you can tell this cabin is on acres of land. You look back and you can't see the road or hear any cars driving by. In a blink the tall wooden cabin pops out, sitting well maintained in a clearing. Your heart sinks. No other cars are parked up against the house.

"I guess we got here first" he says cutting the bike's engine and pulling off his helmet.

You and he unpack his bike and reorganize the items inside. You grab a pizza stick to nibble and he shows you around. The cabin is orc sized. There's tons of room. There's only one chair in the kitchen pushed up at an simple Formica table, which is a little weird. But after thinking for a second you imagine that it'll be a snack table anyway. You and the others will probably need Bagul's help to reach anything you notice. The table and the counters are almost as high as your chin. There's a common area just inside the door, with comfy looking sagging couch in front of a modest smart tv mounted on the wall.

"Down this hall is a half bath." Bagul informs you. "And further back is a bedroom with the full bathroom. Nice shower in there."

Well that's fine you think. The common area is big enough for you to all pile in like a werewolf litter and one of the couples can use the bedroom if they need some privacy. You relax a little. This wont be so bad.

"Hey come on, I'll show you around outside Y/N. There's a really nice lake around here too." You go and view the grounds with him. You are excited to see a fire pit, most likely where everyone will eat, and a little outdoor pump shower. You help Bagul dump some wood nearby and listen while he tells you about the lake, he points in the direction through the trees, how his father had built this place to come grieve while hunting after his wife had died, and how good it was to be back.

It's nice and all but you're going to run out of polite conversation soon if one of your friends doesn't show up soon. You wonder if they are close.

You reach into you back pocket and frown.

"Have you seen my phone?"

Bagul shakes his head and dusts wood shavings from his chest. His thick rounded pecs strain the dark t-shirt he's wearing. He walks towards the cabin.

"I'm gonna get up some beers. Check the sidecar." He says to you looking back briefly. You frown and pat your pockets, then go check to see if it's there. Maybe you brought it in with all of the fried food? But you don't find it in the side car.

Bagul returns and hands you a beer with a condescending look on his inhuman face.

"Are you sure you didn't leave it at home?"

You scoff. He often makes comments implying you're forgetful, or unreliable.

"I had it at the lodge" you say. Bagul shrugs and flips his long braid behind his shoulder and tucks a loose strand of the his straight auburn tresses behind his ear.

"Maybe you left it there." You take a long swallow of beer instead of cussing him out. You walk back into the cabin and start searching through your things for your phone.

Bagul follows you inside of course. While you search you hear him unpacking the food. By the time you angrily finish your beer the smells of food are filling the air. You're a little drunk now. Drunk and annoyed enough to give up looking with huff. You just want more that big potato and another beer.

"Can you put on some music?"

Bagul nods eagerly and streamed music through the tv. It was one of you favorite artists, Boys Bewitched.

"You listen to w-pop?"

Bagul shrugs.

"You can't escape good music. They play it on the radio all the time it's hard not to like it."

You roll your eyes.

Yeah right. He's obviously only listening to get to me, you think to yourself. He's just that type. Boys Bewitched is a wildly popular singing group. There are 5 insanely hot creatures and humans in the group, and they have a mostly femme fan base. Their gothic ballads about love and spells gone wrong are topping all the witch-pop charts.

Bagul would become a fan just so he'd have another reason to get you to talk to him. He never missed the chance to overhear a conversation you had with someone at the drink shop and parrot back the information. It was like he didn't have a personality of his own, other than being your shadow.

You let it go this time. He actually knows the words to this song, and the next one that plays. You pound back another beer, liking that it makes you less annoyed by his deep rumbly voice, and the fact that you're here with him alone. You convince yourself that others will show up soon.

You and he binge on the food and he convinces you start playing a few games to help pass the time.

It's getting dark outside and you are drunk enough to start confusing your words but you suddenly think to get him to use his phone to contact the group. You grow suspicious wondering why he hasn't already done so.

He briefly looks at his phone before shaking his head and putting it away quickly. "No service". He says simply.

You groan loudly and impatiently. "Of course there's no service! Fuck! Do you think they got lost?

He shrugs then grabs your hand "You should calm down, it's not a big deal."

You pull your hand from his and flop onto the couch laying an arm over your eyes.

"There were supposed to be here!" you moan. The drinks and heavy food are getting to you and you feel sleepy. The anxiety of waiting and having lost your phone have also drained your enthusiasm.

"I think I just want to go to sleep."

Bagul perks up.

"Ok yeah, the bed is really comfortable and I promise I don't snore."

You sit up and look at him blearily. "I'm not sleeping with you Bagul. That's a terrible fucking idea. Will you just stop for once? Just leave me alone."

He doesn't answer. You hear him walk away then return a few minutes later before a pile of blankets and pillows are dropped on top of you. You huff and crawl out from under them ready to finally cuss him out but he disappears into the bedroom closing the door with a sharp thud.

It doesn't take long for your to fall asleep on the couch.

When you wake up the next morning you're not in a good mood. Your head hurts and you're upset to find that no one had shown up in the night.

You hear the shower running letting you know that Bagul is already up. You hope he takes you seriously and starts to back off. You're going to ask him to take you home if no one comes today.

You get up and change your clothes in the bathroom before getting a glass of water and a cold chicken wing. Bagul tromps into the room. His ice-green colored skin is gleaming and his hair is still a little damp, wavy and un-braided falling over his shoulders and into his eyes.

"Morning" he growls in greeting. He kisses the top of your head as he slumps on to the couch next to you depressing the cushions enough to cause you to slide against his side. He's wearing grey joggers and another tight shirt.

You scowl, move away, ask abruptly "Has Edina or Fisk or Kalani said anything, did you get any texts? No one's here yet and I'm getting worried. Aren't you?"

Bagul scratches his head and gives you a lopsided grin around his tusks. "You know that's a good point. Where are those guys?"

You feel frustration and you bite back a snarky comment. He gets up and goes to check his phone.

"Oh shit" he says. "I think I gave them the wrong dates. Whoa. How did that happen?"

You want to roll your eyes and yell at him so bad. This is an obvious kidnapping.

"It's ok though. He gives you a hot look and tucks the phone back in his pocket. "That just means we have some time together by ourselves. You know? I'm gonna make breakfast and then we can go to the lake. Can't wait to see that bikini" he leers.

Bagul walks into the kitchen with a swagger and begins making food in the small kitchen across the cabin.

Of course you would get tricked into a weird date . You could bet that Bagul had some help from one of your mutual and when you fund out who you're going to probably be showing them you over-reactive side. Sometimes you get a little obsessive in anger and want to take revenge until your rage softens. In the past you have made some questionable choices like emptying a teacher's lunch into their bookbag when they'd embarrassed you in a class. The teacher had brought soup and you still remember the glee you felt at the windfall of mischief. You had a little trouble feeling regret when you felt like someone had crossed a boundary with you.

Bagul is over-stepping. You are trying to think of a plan to get him to take you back and avoid an argument or other undesirable reaction. Bagul is big and sometimes his moods are unpredictable.

You do want to see the lake so you decided to let him show you around. This is the first time you have truly led him on but you feel like you have to get on his good side to convince him to take you home before the end of the day. This whole trip is irritating as fuck and you are over it. A tantrum from you or Bagul is not going to make it easier.

Breakfast puts you in a good mood. You follow Bagul through the woods to the lake avoiding his lewd gaze. He really likes the bikini you're wearing underneath the sheer body con cover-up.

It's makes you feel self conscious knowing that he's seeing so much of your body. Even with a mesh wrap over you, he looks back at you often leering at your soft cubby body.

The lake is beautiful. It's a stunning secluded lake shaped like a bean fed by a creek that you can hear bubbling and sloshing nearby. It's banks are flush with cattails and other tall grasses with the clearing surround sparsely dotted with trees.

You enjoy the heat of the early afternoon and the wide blue sky reflecting in the water.

"I used to love jumping in this lake when I was just out here enjoying the summer with my dad and his friends. It's hard to make time to come out here now with all the adulting." Bagul says and gives you a conspiratorial look over his polarized sunglasses.

"Hmm" you offer, not listening.

You are wondering if there are any snapping turtles to be worried about. You set out your towel and cooler on the modest little pier. You are about to take off your mesh sun dress and slip into the water but Bagul is staring. Again!

He notices your side eye and hastily edges into the water. While his back is turned you get in the water enjoying the squidgy mud at the bottom. You swim out to the middle of the lake then roll on to your back to watch the sky as you float. For a brief moment the vibe is really soothing. Within moments it's interrupted by Bagul. He's standing over you. The lake only comes up to his waist and you float there looking up into the dark shadow of his face.

"Hey" He says softly.

You swim away.

You play this game with him al day until you're exhausted. You try to enjoy some quiet space and he finds a way to invade. You want to listen to music on the dock, he joins you and talks about all the songs. You decide to go on a hike after lunch and he follows you. You try to drink a beer and read one of the old hunting magazines left by someone, relaxing out by the fire pit, and Bagul is staring at you from the cabin doorway.

You decide you're officially done being passive on this. Bagul has disappeared into the cabin for a little while. When you go in after him you notice a delicious smell and Bagul prepping in the kitchen.

You confront him as he chops some garlic.

"Hey, this is a cute little stunt or whatever Bagul, but it's really too much. I want to go home, like now. I don't know what you were thinking but I'm not staying out here without the others. I came out here to relax with them."

"You can relax with me" Bagul grumbles not looking at you.

"No, I can't. You can't just kidnapp me and think I'm going to fall in love with you. Take me the fuck home!"

You voice is rising. Bagul stills for a long moment then wipes his hands and turns to you. He leans casually against the counter.

"Fine, whatever Y/N. We'll eat and then we can get going."

"What? No, take..."

There's a hard glint in Bagul's eyes as he interrupts you with a deep unyielding tone "We'll eat first" Then he smirks. "Ok?"

Your brows crease, and you feel a little stunned by that. You turn around to go pack your things. You hear him open a bottle of wine, the soft pop of the released cork making you grind your teeth.

He's going to take his fucking time with this, you grumble in your thoughts.

"Let's eat Y/N" he calls to you a while later and you shuffle into the kitchen. He's seated at the table looking confident.

"Where's mine?" You ask

Bagul pats his knee.

You roll you eyes. "Enough Bagul! Like bro, just quit. I'm not sitting on your fucking.." you begin to yell but he cuts you off with a sharp loud slap to the table.

His confident expression doesn't change but his eyes bore into you.

"Look" his voice is condescending and agreeable at once. "I've gone through a lot of trouble Y/N. Yeah maybe bringing you here was a long shot but give me a fucking break. I haven't locked you in a room. I'm just trying to get to know you. Just eat with me, and I'll take you home."

You're stunned again. You feel an undercurrent of aggression in his words, so you reason with yourself that you can be nice to him for another half an hour. You remember your goal to void outbursts. You eye him warily and move close enough that he can pick you up onto his broad thigh. You feel like an absolute doll. You feel distinctly uncomfortable as well.

Bagul clears his throat and pushes a plate of food to you but he doesn't give you the fork. He dangles a morsel from his own plate in your face with it.

You're tempted to just start eating with your hands, but then you decide it's easier to let him feed you.

He does so while you sit in terse silence. You reach for a small cup of wine but Bagul moves it away from you.

"Not yet. Eat more."

You grind your teeth in annoyance, but a while later he finally hands you the drink. He tries to feed you more but you push at his hand.

"Really? Look the food is great. Can we get going now? I want to get to that lodge and see if they have my phone before they close and it's getting late soooo..." you slur the word as a loose-limbed heat fogs your brain

#yandere smut #yandere vibes #monster smut #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #orc #orc boyfriend #monster lover #tw monsterfucking #monsterfucker #terato #teratophillia #size difference #furrbbyx #the ranch update

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