✿ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍

Kindergarten teacher! Choso Headcanons

cw: nsfw/sfw, fluff, smut, dub-con, dom/sub, fingering, rough sex, oral(m!receiving), creampie, degradation, hair pulling, unprotected sex, public sex, no prep, toxic (?) relationship, dom!choso

an: inspired by this art kindergarten teacher! Choso everyone! I'm on my knees

Kindergarten teacher! Choso who is nice to everybody, especially to his students. He loves giving stars and compliments to his students on their little achievements. Got a perfect mark on a test? you got a star on your hands. Finished coloring the activity too early? you got a star on your wrist. Done Memorizing the first 10 letters in the alphabet you got a star on your cheeks.

Kindergarten teacher! Choso who notices every small detail on his students. He memorizes everything from head to toe. From the slight change in his students' head accessories, the minuscule purple heart on his students' new manicured small nails, to the tied ribbon knot on their shoelaces.

Kindergarten teacher! Choso who loves giving flowers to his students. Choso has a small backyard in his house and he personally grows each flower to perfection. He wanted them fresh and free from any toxins so he never missed any day watering them. Choso especially likes giving dandelions, daisies, and lilies wishing all his students to grow with a very active and optimistic outlook in life. He loves children, he very much loves them treating each one as his kid.

Kindergarten teacher! Choso who braids his students' hair with the most gentle care, making sure to brush each tangled strand carefully without pulling the roots of their scalp. On top of the cute mermaid-style braid, he also likes finishing the look with a rainbow pin on both sides of the hair.

Kindergarten teacher! Choso who Hugs and coos his students to sleep. After a long day of playing games, reading books, coloring pages from the worksheets, and singing songs, his students love it when he picks them up, rubs their backs, and coo's them to sleep as they gradually close their heavy lids escaping their world on their dreamy land. Choso would then tuck each of his students on the thickly matted floor and kiss their foreheads before he begins his afternoon duties.

Kindergarten teacher! Choso where you decided to work as a cook in the daycare because the tall, dark-haired man you've got a crush on is working as a teacher there. Choso, that was his name, from the moment you saw him to the day you decided to work here you knew that there was something mysterious behind those dark orbs and you weren't wrong. He was lovely in front of his students, always smiling, always laughing but he is a 360 degrees monster behind closed doors. He is a 30-year-old promiscuous man who plays roughly with several kinks. He loves doing it rough, sadistic. He is degrading, he seeks pleasures when you are struggling beneath him. He loves it so much when your knees are all bruised, eyes red and wetty, and lips are swollen while you are gagging on his cock struggling to take his length. He loves fucking your mouth deep, pushing your head down on his pubes until you are out of breath.

“F-fuck fuck I'm gonna cum and you'll fucking take it all.” You can feel his cock throbbing as it pulses inside your mouth and just like that you felt your tongue full with thick ropes of cum. A mixture of bitter and salty, still trying to catch your breath, Choso grabbed your chin and watched your doey eyes glisten with tears and lips spilling his creamy-white seeds. You are attempting to swat his fingers on your chin and reach for a napkin to spit his seeds when he tightens his grip on yours and scrutinizes you under his dark lustful eyes. He then began to command you with his low deep voice.

“Swallow.”

Weak and shuddering under his gaze you began to follow his command mindlessly. You swallowed his semen while looking him directly in the eyes. Fingers catching his load that spilled past your lips and sucking them shamelessly. You heard choso laugh manically, his lips formed on a smirk as he stroked your head like his personal fuck doll.

“Good fucking girl.”

Kindergarten teacher! Choso who fucks you senseless and whispers dirty stuff in your ears while his students are fast asleep. your tears are rolling down on your cheeks eyes turned on the back of your head. Unable to think properly while his 3 fingers are knuckle deep on your hole and his cock on your ass. The lewd sound coming from your mouth and the slapping of skins is driving you crazy. You are so wet, so messy. Cheeks soaked from tears, tongue lolled out your mouth, body filled with sweat and pussy drunk from yours and choso's cum. He was pushing both of your seeds with his fingers inside your cervix while fucking your tight ass hole. You can feel your stomach tighten ready to release another load yet choso is stimulating both of your holes without mercy.

“So fucking filthy, your such a fucking dirty girl. You like this right, getting fuck by me? Getting both of your holes fuck, God your such a slut!”

“C-choso too big I c-can't anymore please, I'm gonna cum”

“Shut up slut be useful for once and take my cock like a good girl yeah?”

Kindergarten teacher! Choso who stuffs your dirty undies on your mouth to prevent you from moaning so loud. After tucking all the kids to sleep he went on his way to play his kind of games with you. He folded you on the counter, pushed your chest against the marbles of the kitchen, and gripped your waist tightly as he shoved his cocked on your pussy forcing you to take his whole length without prep. Jarred from the sudden force on your hole you reached for your pussy and began stimulating your clit to ease the pain on your hole and make you wet when Choso pulled your hair and whispered in your ears.

“Did I tell you to touch yourself? No, right? Then remove your dirty hands on your pussy or I won't let you cum.” Cringed from the thought of not cumming you dispelled your fingers from your clit and painfully took choso's thrust on your hole. He was ramming his hips so deep and so hard that you were unable to contain yourself and spilled a boisterous moan out on your lips so he gripped your jaw and shoved your dirty undies on your mouth.

“So fucking loud! Do you want to wake up my kids, you dirty slut?”

Kindergarten teacher! Choso who's quick to shove you off his cock one time when a student came by the kitchen finding him after waking up from her sleep. Her hair was messy, hands rubbing the sleep on her eyes and mouth yawning. Afraid of being seen like that choso immediately pushed you off from his lap making you fall on the side. You were still shivering from his release, his semen spilling on your legs, breath still heavy, when he pulled his pants up and squeezed your ass one more time before catching his student in his arms. Fixing her messy hair and leaving small kisses on her temples.

“Teacher, what are you doing here?”

“Hmm, nothin princess, I was just asking y/n what meal we will be having today.”

“B-but we already ate our lunch, teacher!” Choso looked in your direction, delighted with your fucked-up state. Hair is messy, lipstick-stained on the corners of your mouth, clothes are crumpled and legs are shaking. He then formed an incessant smirk on his mouth before answering his student's question.

“No princess, it's for me. I haven’t had my dessert yet right, y/n?”

TALK DIRTY TO ME

how konig, ghost, and price talk dirty in bed.

thirsts : open

—

konig is surprisingly vocal when he’s rutting into you, though it’s probably not in the way you think. most of his words come out in hushed whispers laced with obscenities. he seems to lose any sense of shame he usually has because he’s just too drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him.

“feels s’fucking good—“ he mindlessly babbles out.

his large palms are stretched out on both sides of you, fingers digging into the mattress, while he keeps you caged underneath him.

“such a greedy pussy,” he groans out with another roll of his hips. “keeps suckin’ me back in…”

you can feel his hot breath fanning your face while his darkened eyes are stuck — transfixed — on the creamy white ring that covers his cock. the sloppy sounds that fill the room seem to only grow louder with each thrust, as your arousal practically drips down his balls.

“just begging for me to fill ya up,” he hissed out, as he presses down on your stomach which makes you whimper in response. the noise somehow flips a switch in him and has könig fucking into you even harder.

“s’that what ya want? need me to fill ya up, fuck a baby into this pretty cunt?”

price just exudes dominance in all aspects even with his dirty talk, his words are more praising than anything else though. he’s always coaching you through things and telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he knows it gets you off and he also just can’t help but spoil you.

“mhmm, just like that, baby.” he mumbles out as he lazily guides your movements, helping you bounce yourself up and down on his cock.

there’s a smirk on his face that he can’t even be bothered to hide when he hears you whining at the praise. he thinks you’re adorable when you’re like this, so desperate for him yet so adamant on not asking for his help. you could be such a brat sometimes, he’d have to deal with that later.

“doing so well,” he says with a groan as he thrusts his hips up in time with your movements. “but you don’t think you’re gonna make me cum just from this, do you?”

it doesn’t take much effort for him to flip you over and have you at his mercy. your legs are now lifted over his shoulders while his dick is fucking you even deeper, the tip prodding against your sweet spot just right it has your toes curling.

“feels good, doesn’t it?” his movements are slow and controlled, he knows you’re close — he can feel it — but he’s not going to reward you unless you use yours words.

“come on, princess. all you have to do is beg and i’ll have you screaming for me…”

everything ghost says is absolutely filthy, he is all about the little details. he doesn’t actually notice what he’s saying in the heat of the moment, all he knows is that his words have your cheeks flushing to a pretty shade of red, and he loves it.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut for me even your pussy knows it.” he practically growls. “look at this sloppy mess you’re making.”

he ruts the tip of his cock against your slit, coating your folds with his pre-cum. “jus’ gonna slip in with how wet you are..”

your arm is slung over your face as a way for you to hide your embarrassment, you know he’s right, there’s no way you could deny it. something about the way he talks to you when he’s pent up like this has your pussy throbbing.

“fuck, need to be balls deep inside this cunt.” he breathes, as he eases his way into you, the fat head of his cock slowly splitting you open as he makes you take in more and more of him.

the veins on his length rub your slick walls deliciously and it’s not surprising that you’re already twitching and creaming all over him as soon as he bottoms out.

“that’s it, there’s my slutty girl.” his raspy laugh fills the silence. “stop using that pretty head, all you need to do is cum for me.”

#i can’t function #ur the greatest writer wow #love it here

ESCAPE FROM TOKYO. // HEARTLESS.

you got me tattooed on your mind, you just want me all the time.

+ wc. 2.4k.

+ synopsis. you just wanted his attention. he just wanted your affection.

+ cw. mutual pining. car sex. alcohol mention. dirty talk. dictation(?) kink. asphyxiation. orgasm denial. orgasm control. spit kink. heavy themes of infidelity.

+ a/n. first installment of escape from tokyo! i needed a break from smc, something less plot driven and a little more fun to write while i work on that on the side, and that’s how eft was born. also, i wanted to try a different take on sanzu. a lot of people tend to focus on his more...blatantly wild side and i wanted to write him a teensy bit...subdued, in a sense. i hope it came across that way. i hope everyone enjoys! reblogs + feedback are appreciated. as always, 18+, minors do not interact.

+ playlist. taglist. masterlist.

+ special thanks to @spidermilfs for beta-ing for me! ily silvi <3

Sanzu's not too sure what kind of witch you are to cast such a spell on him, but you must be a powerful one to have him lusting after you like this.

He watches you from the rim of his glass, the neon lights in the club shimmering over your skin and encasing you in an artificial halo of blue and purple. Purple irises never waver, locked onto the sway of your hips even when he sets down his glass to lean back in the soft suede couch. Someone comes over, a bottle service girl who bats her lashes as she offers to top off his drink once more, but he waves her off without acknowledgement. She frowns and he doesn't care. He's too enraptured with the beautiful being that turned towards him, colored crystals for eyes and a sticky smattering of lip gloss over plush lips.

The way his heart thumped against his chest was inhumane. You were inhumane. You had to be to have this kind of effect on him.

Not only that, but you were dangerous. You were poison, something to stay away from as best he could like a toxic chemical in a dangerous lab. But like most dangerous chemicals, you were sweet. Alluring to his eye, causing him to salivate at the thought of you. You reminded him of his favorite narcotics-- terrible for his health, likely to get him killed, but damn difficult to say no to.

He convinced himself that was the reason why he stretched out, offering his open lap when you sauntered over. It was your pull on him, nothing more.

"Zuzu," You drawled and Sanzu licked his lips, signature smirk already pulling at the scarred corners. "You're giving me that look again."

His eyebrow twitches upwards as he looks down at you through thick lashes. "What look, princess?"

"You know," You squirm a little and he thinks it's the cutest thing. Your nails knock against his buttons lightly, sheepish expression on your lips as you bit your lip and hummed. "that look...the look you give me when you want something."

"Oh?"

Sanzu chuckled. He licks his lips, purple eyes leaving your figure for a split second to survey the area. His rings tapped against the back of the leather couch, fingers rapping against the material. "I do want something. I want a couple things, actually. Think you can help me out?"

"Like what?" Your voice tried to hold back its obvious excitement and failed. You were just so fucking cute, he could barely hold himself back sometimes. He took his time looking back at you, dragging slowly across the outline of your figure before finally, finally gracing you with an answer.

"I wanna leave this place." He mutters, trained on your expression. Your eyes never left his face, flickering between the way his mouth moved and the intensity of his own weighty gaze. "Wanna go back to the car and feel that pretty pussy on my fingers. I want to watch your cute face make the cutest expressions for me tonight. Think you can help me out with that?"

You two were out of the club in less than ten minutes.

It's risky. Sanzu knows it is. But he wouldn't be Sanzu if he gave a fuck.

He's partly grateful for the partition and the confidentiality clause his driver is forced under. The second you two duck into the awaiting limo your hands are already timidly twitching, innocently grazing over his thigh and your lashes flutter as you bat doe-like eyes at him in wanton. Subtlety wasn't something particularly observed between you two in private. There was no reason to be subtle. You both were iniquitous in your own right and Sanzu was akin to Satan when he felt like it. He'd drink in your sin gleefully, uncaring of whatever happened to him afterwards.

His hand snaked up your thighs in moments, wasting no time to knead and pull at the soft, supple skin. His touch makes you shiver; something that makes him smile, scars on the corners of his lips stretching as his tongue licks over glorious white teeth. His thumb, rough and calloused, smooths over the skin as he leans in.

"You want me." He whispers. It's declarative, assured, set and confident with no room to deny its validity. He watches you, eyes trained intently at the way you shudder under him, jerky and timid when you nod.

"I do."

"How bad do you want me?"

This time it looks for affirmation. Consent, in a way, movements on your thighs lulling into thumbed circles on the tops as he awaits your answer. You inhale, diaphragm opening and chest rising, breasts pressing into the satin cloth of your expensive little dress. Dior, he thinks it is.

"Badly."

"That so?" He breathes in deeply. You smell like Chanel No.5 and that ridiculously expensive drink you had him buy earlier. The grin settles on his face, teeth dragging over his full bottom lip before he hums out a chuckle. His hand moves up, ghosting dangerously close to your heat, causing your fists to clench, heartbeat pitter pattering quicker in your chest. "Want you to show me, okay? Show me just how bad you want me. Make it worth my while, pretty girl."

His fingers bump against you and you gasp softly, met with an eyebrow raise from him. "Where's your underwear?" He questions, index trailing on the puffy, soft skin. You shake your head, thighs falling open a little wider. "Didn't wear any."

"You didn't?" He tuts, index tracing over the warm lips. "Racy little thing aren't you? What would your boyfriend say if he knew you did that, hm?"

It comes out with a mocking tinge of jealousy. Your boyfriend. Mikey. His boss. The man he devoted his life to without care or thought of consequence. The man he was most loyal and devoted to, more than he was to his own family. Your boyfriend. His Mikey.

Sick, he thought, grin tugging wide on the corner of his lips. Sick that he liked the thought of this so much. This, meaning you, silently inviting him into the warmth of your soft, sacred body, allowing him to defile your temple for what could always be his last time.

You didn’t speak. You never did when he brought up your salacious affair. Instead you opted to whine, eyebrows turning down at the ends while you gripped his jacket, tugging him close to ghost on the swells of your barely glossy lips. Sanzu sticks his tongue out, tip dragging along the fat of your bottom lip, artificial taste of cherries flooding over his receptors. His tongue flicks upwards, over the outline of your top lip, before he dips into your awaiting mouth that drops open slightly more as a result of his fingers now tapping lightly against your previously neglected clit.

“Are you this needy for him too?”

He doesn’t allow you the luxury of thinking of an answer.

His middle finger taps against your clit once more before dragging its calloused length down the sensitive bud, revelling in the way your lip quivers and nails try desperately to break through the delicate hem of his suit. He drags it upwards again until the curve sits on the pad of his finger, and slowly he circles it around. The other hand drags up your body, groping the supple flesh of your tits on its way up, drumming along your collarbone and grazing your neck before his fingers splay and stretch and lock around your jaw. They press inwards gently, enough for you to feel their weighty pressure as he looks down and coos at you.

“Do you make this gorgeous face for him too, princess?”

Your eyes are glassy and glossed over, and in each passing light Sanzu can see the glimmer of the spit accumulating over your tongue. His fingers press into your cheeks, holding your mouth open wider and immediately your tongue stretches forward, pink muscle dripping in clear saliva that dangles from its tip and oozes down your chin. He leans close, forehead nearly bumping against yours as his lips pucker and purse before a clear bead heads from between the soft pink folds. His eyes train and ears perk up at the way your breath hitches, tongue writhing before stilling, fan of lashes dipping down as your own eyes lock onto the trailing liquid seep from his mouth down onto yours. Then, finally, the bead hits your tongue and your lashes flutter as your eyes roll back, but your tongue stays out. Obediently. Just how he trained you.

“Look at me and swallow.”

Sanzu thinks he sees his life in your eyes when you look up at him once more. He can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine, nor the way his grip flexes and tightens for a brief second before travelling down to your neck when your tongue dips inwards and your mouth closes, lips pursing before your throat closes and moves beneath his grip. You open your mouth again, dry of any residue, and he rewards you with a kiss.

“Good girl.”

Sanzu’s spurred on by reactions. He loves to see what he does to people, how he makes them feel. He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t derive some kind of iniquitous pleasure from controlling the amount of pain his victims felt. It’s why he was so good at torturing people, why Bonten garnered the name it got. He loved to see the control he had over someone. He loved to be in control of something no one should have control over.

His infatuation with you was inevitable, he supposed. You were just too good. You couldn’t hold back how you felt if you tried.

It’s reminded when the fingers around your throat press in, squeezing until your breathing is reduced to a soft wheeze, blood pounding in your ears. At the same time he’s pushing into you, thick finger stretching your sodden hole and the sensation is delicious as it is welcomed and familiar. Your eyes flutter and roll, chest raising, sticky sounds of slick gently popping in the air. Sanzu hums in approval, slowly easing in and taking his time at first, just to see you cave.

“There it is,” he comments slickly, licking at his canines. “There’s that face I love so much.”

His fingers flex, drawing back and before you have a chance to whine he shoves it in again, this time middle joined with his ring finger. His palm slaps against your clit with each skilled thrust and the pads of his fingertips curve inwards, nestling against the top of your walls, right against that spot he knew made you shake. And you did, thighs quivering and gentle little moans falling from trembling lips, sloppy sounds of growing slick making you shiver in delight. Sanzu knew your body better than anything else and every time he got the chance to play with you he reminded you.

“Zuzu,” you mewl cutely and his dick throbs in his pants. He squeezes your throat tighter, feeling the way your walls pulse and suck around his fingers. He dips to your face to kiss your cheek, panting in your ear soon after.

“Think I should let you cum on my fingers, princess?” He nibbles on your earlobe. “Think I should make a mess of your pussy and send you home to him?”

“Sanzu,” you weakly call out and he knows you’re in no state to answer. His movements sink into you and don’t pull out, instead opting to draw out your high by massaging right into that needy spot. It’s mind melting, causing your toes to curl in your heels and you try best to gasp out. The feeling in your head is light now in the best way, lack of oxygen and his ministrations the closest thing to ecstasy you’d gotten all night. But Sanzu knows it’s not enough. He knows his prodding only keeps that building feeling from falling and nothing more. It doesn’t elevate it, it doesn’t let it fall, it keeps it sustained. Pleasure keeps coursing through your body, making your pussy wetter and wetter by the moment but that’s all. It’s never enough to make you cum.

He can’t. Well..not today.

You’re nearing Mikey’s penthouse now and he knows his time with you is winding up. He knows he has to let you go to your rightful man, and selfishly he grows to dislike it. With his hands perusing the landscape of your body he’s reluctant to let you go, but he knows he has to. So, first, he releases the grip around your neck, careful not to bruise the skin.

He swipes across your gumminess one more time before pulling out slowly, hissing at the web of slick that pulls across his fingers. He can’t help himself; dipping the same fingers into his mouth he moans at the taste, own lashes brushing against his cheeks as he savored over your syrup. He pulls away only to place a kiss to your lips again, grinning at your slightly fucked out expression. He dips between your legs and smacks your pussy lightly a few times, chuckling at the yelp you make when his ring taps against your clit.

“Go on.” He mutters with a sigh as the car pulls in front of Mikey’s complex. “Take his pussy home to him. He’s got better use for it than I do.”

He watches you from behind lidded eyes as you pull yourself together with a nod, sparing him a short kiss to his scar before you dip out of the car to the other bodyguard assigned to escort you to Mikey’s room. You wobble, be it from being finger fucked to hell or from the alcohol Sanzu couldn’t tell, but the possibility of it being from him has him smirking to himself nonetheless. He sighs to himself when you look back, now ways away from the car, and turns his eyes to examine the watch on his wrist.

You were something unearthly. Only that could explain the foreign sliver of jealousy that bloomed dark over his already charred heart. Jealous that you’d give yourself to Mikey once more. Jealous that Sanzu hadn’t claimed you before his boss did. Jealous, most of all, that in spite of, he’d be crawling back to you the second your pretty eyes and lopsided smile flashed in his direction again, a silent beg to indulge himself in you once more.

“Take me home.” He pulls across the partition and calls out to the driver, who simply nods and follows his instruction. All Sanzu could do now was wait on your call once more.

Some kind of witch indeed.

taglist: @shiwhore @miytsuya @kugoinks @sanzudopeamine @risano @zvchinni @scummy-simp @h-a-r-u-c-h-i-y-o @chloe-nanami @ssanzuu @chsetlantc @rinrinfoxy @shigarakistomura

crossed out names couldn't be tagged!

I’m litterally begging can you please write more badboy!some stuff? I don’t care what it is but preferably spicy. Sorry if you don’t take requests but I figured I’d shoot my shot and ask.

of course anon! sorry im still learning this community and how to use blogs, once i organize my page with more tags i’ll be sure to post some of my finished drafts 🌸

OOOF grumpy x sunshine trope but spin it around and make it nanami and reader being ta’s to their college prof who has over 600 students in his class rahhh…. him being clueless as to why you’re such a magnet for the younger, more bright-eyed students and have more of them request you to have a peer-review but he thinks it’s merely because of your looks. he, and quite literally everyone on campus, would have rocks for brains if they considered you anything less of lovely and fair when it comes to the eye (he totallyyy says that in a factual sense, not a complimentary one though, trust him), so nanami merely believes the reason as to why his students refuse to meet his eye and ask boring questions is because he’s overshadowed by you—you coddle them all too much and probably give them the answer without much though merely because it’s easier.

he doesn’t get it, even when your students praise you and your teaching methods—which were just elementary simplifications of the material. it’s only when his student furrows their brows and their confusion unwavering, telling him for the nth time that “(y/n) does it this way though, why are you making it more complicated…” that he sighs and gives up, telling them offhandedly that they can just seek you out if that’s what they want. he’s perturbed by how only when he mentions your name, that’s the only time his student actually seems a little happier.

he doesn’t get it, even as he’s staring at you waiting for your coffee in the campus coffee shop—why so many people pass you by with a smile and a wave or why the barista draws a cute kitty cat on your cup that makes you laugh lightly, the sound drawing in a soft pink on the barista’s cheeks. you carry a tray of two cups of coffees, the other supposedly for the professor so you can suck up to him more and get that stubborn letter of recommendation he’ll give only a scarce population.

he doesn’t get it, even as you walk in the classroom after him, a halo of light only invisible to him beaming around you that attracts “hi!”s and “good morning!”s from all over the lecture hall, a stark contrast to his own presence in which his greetings consisted of eye flickers and occasional quiet head nods.

he doesn’t get it, even as you gently nudge a cup of coffee into his hands—wait, huh?

nanami silently turns to you, confusion bespeckling his countenance at the cat-scribbled cup that amused you earlier.

“one sugar with a splash of soy milk, right?” you inquire with a light grin. you’re right… that indeed is his usual order but how did you—

“i overheard you saying to your friend—what was his name? haiba? haibara?—on friday about your coffee order after class, so,” you gesture to the cup in his hands. “i thought you’d might want that this morning.”

“oh,” nanami chokes out, the warmth on his cheeks beginning to replicate the one in his palm. “… thank you, but you didn’t have to.”

you shrugged. “i didn’t, but i wanted to. it’s the little things that matter, y’know?”

you give him one last grin before unpacking your things and making light conversation with your peers about your weekend, detailing “oh yeah! you mentioned that museum awhile ago! how’d it go?” and “i’m not sure visiting a cat cafe would be good for your allergies…” along the way.

and when he sips his gifted coffee, finding there to be a little more richness than usual, the world seems just a tad bit better.

he blames it on the caffeine, though.

ah hi! I love your writing so much so I’m so excited requests are open. Could I request a short fic (if possible) of fem!reader x alucard of them both pining for each other for a long time & maybe one day they just snap b/c it’s too much & make out? (Or… more than that if u want.)

A classic! This is the first ask since I opened requests and here’s a scenario that fell down the hill. It then snowballed turning into a fic that is excruciatingly in Alternate Universe territory *guilty laughter* hope you like some of this, anon.

To be free

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x fem!reader

Rating: T

Count: 1.6k

Tags & Warnings: Mutual pining, Angst, It just happened, Adrian has 0 idea what to do with this, Here's some unsavory Alucard traits, He means well but ugh, Context of battle, Mention of death, alternate universe, dark fantasy AU, unresolved sexual tension, unresolved emotional tension, Second Person POV, Alucard POV, more tags coming

Summary:

The murder of Lisa never happened. Instead, sometime in the future there is strife in the vampire world with an alliance of rebelling war chiefs over territory and Dracula is forced to respond. Reader character is an apprentice learning the doctor trade under Lisa, and a friend of her son.

Will post part II soon but wanted to share this for now

All characters depicted are 18+

I.

Wallachia, 1485

“Faster!” comes the sudden strike, the wooden staff colliding with your shoulder.

“That hurt!” you hiss, ducking your head as a flash of gold gains on you.

“Well for god’s sake, move your feet!” Adrian snaps, falling upon you with frightful ease.

You retreat, movements slower, your legs fumbling. “You... you’re awful...” you pant, “This is too much, even for an average recruit!” you barely parry before being flung aside by another vicious strike.

You gasp as he’s upon you again, leaving you struggling to regain your balance. “I do not train you to be average,” Adrian throws in the tone he only ever uses with the other soldiers. “I train you to stay alive,” he kicks your legs from under you before you can preempt him.

You swear, cry out and grab at his shoulder; a surprised son of Dracula crumbles together with you in a heap to the ground.

Your faces come to be so close you can see the hint of swirling lights in his eyes. “That was unfair,” you whisper, breathless.

“Who ever said war is fair? Do you think the enemy will care for your codes of honor?” Adrian asks, unaffected by the effort—he’s not even flushed—his forearms propped on either side of your head. “Now pay attention and stop wasting my time, else you find someone else to teach you.”

He’s mainly like this, nowadays. Morose, at times even scowling, having little to no patience. His words scald often, and this change came and stayed with him for a while now. When Adrian tries to rise, however, your thighs turn into a vice around him; a sudden shift of unexpected strength, and then you’re sitting atop him, pressing him into the earth.

You grin, holding him down, finding some familiarity in it. You’d slept beneath cold skies back to back, huddled against each other for warmth before; you knew him in a physical way, one demanded of practicality. When you lean closer to his face, you see ice and even distaste, and stupid words gurgle in your throat. “I do pay attention, more than you think,” you say with a hint of satisfaction, which soon fades at the look he’s giving you.

“Rise to your feet, please.”

“I listen. I hear your words, harsh when once they’d been kind. I feel this wall you’re raising higher and I don’t understand why. I’m not your enemy. I’m...” your voice fails when his eyes narrow. “I’m your friend. Come back.” You watch his face, the shape of the mouth you know, down to every detail.

“I am right here, to my dismay. Now rise, don’t make me ask again.” But he does not do so himself, possibly giving you the choice of dignity.

“Tell me why you do it. Why you’re so dismissive, why you seem to make yourself scarce whenever we’re in the same room for long.” Why he acts like this task is something he loathes, even though he was the one who offered to include you in his daily routine when you’d made your wish to train known. You sound wanton in your demand now, you know, but he near always pushes you to the end of your tether lately. Today had been another rushed, supremely uncomfortable sword fighting lesson besides. Why are you like this? The words bite into your tongue, but you dare not ask them, afraid of what they might bring; you don’t want to fight him, not now.

Before, when Adrian welcomed you to stay for the friendship you had, he was open in manner and kind; but lately there is no reprieve, and you sense the tension in him as though it were a living thing. It turns him into a merciless trainer and hard to please—it also makes him ten times more infuriating to be around.

Adrian gazes up at you, inert, but the tension in you seems to bleed into his own body. “I do it for you,” he answers late, his voice gentler like a bleak reminder of before. “I do all of it for you.”

“I should be grateful, then?” you mutter into his shuttering stare. “For this?”

A softness to his eyes, a clench to his jaw; you feel compelled to do something you have not the courage to.

“Move.”

Defeated, you nod and rise, quietly regaining yourself as Adrian comes to his feet. You retrieve your staff, back turned to him. “I think I’ve had enough for today.”

You start when your weapon is roughly pried from your hand. “As you wish,” Adrian says. The hardness in his voice makes you flinch, like talons leaving raw and festering places in their wake.

As you turn, he’s already leaving the practice yard with rushed steps. You fall limply against a tree trunk, covering your face with your filthy gloved hands, wanting more than anything to be free of this.

Having reached the armory, you wipe your sweaty brow with your hand, then attempt fluid movement. The leather practice armor you’re using until a better suited one is ready hinders your motions. You blow a stray wisp of hair out of your face, yet panting from exertion. It has to be done; it has to be done. 

You attempt to undo the fastenings and utterly fail, resenting having to train in full battle gear, but one tireless tutor insists this is the way. With a huff and a pull, your attempts cease. 

A heavy hand is on your shoulder; heavier than it used to be. It urges you to turn.

“You slouch,” come the soft words. Deft fingers aid you out of the constraint posed by the armor and you go still, throwing the speaker a brief, scathing look he cannot see, focused as he is on his task. 

“I try,” you say.

“I need more focus, mere blinks of moments matter here,” Adrian says without looking at you.

Before you reply, he finishes and turns away, arms raised and hands pulling at the tie in his hair.

His aloofness is even more biting than usual; has something happened? You’ll need to speak to him, because you can't help but feel somehow... you can't define it exactly. A heaviness, a weariness over your heart as it beats. You can't but feel he's being unfair.

This familiarity in your concern, though natural now, has taken long to develop. The two of you crossed paths once, had bled to stay alive and became close along the way through a string of unbelievable though unavoidable events. You still laugh at the absurdity of it sometimes: meeting and befriending the son of Vlad Dracula Tepes, meeting Lisa his mother and becoming her aid after Adrian offered for you to stay until you found your bearings. You, finding Dracula with a family of all things.

Having nowhere else to go, you stayed, of course you stayed. This was a household, the semblance of a strong-knit family, or at least—for you—the proximity to one. And if you were being bluntly honest with yourself, you starved for this: a purpose, a goal. It led you to accept the schooling suggestions from Lisa Tepes. It had you deciding to train in arms so you could defend yourself if need be. And you, well… you were apprentice to his mother now, learning her trade, living here, eating and walking and seeing him—though thankfully (or painfully), less and less lately as the days pass.

You stare out the window, to the shadow lengthening across the trees and the horizon, over a scattered front where white smoke billows eerily into the air against the violently bruised sky of evening. Beneath it, two factions will inevitably clash. You shudder, chewing the inside of your cheek. “How stupid. I should learn to save lives, not take them,” you murmur, placing your gloves on a rack in the training hall. 

“Remember, these are vampires. And you may end this, it was your wish afterall,” Adrian looks over his shoulder at you.

“I know.” You turn from him, rummaging in your own things, hiding the flash of pain on your face. “But I have to learn.”

All is prepared, and you overheard the others speaking of it at the recent council. They would start at the following evefall to be stationed along camp lines across the valley. You turn your head left and right, roll your shoulders, grimacing at the stiffness in your upper body.

“Here,” Adrian says, approaching and presenting you with a vial containing a clear liquid.

“What is it?” you reach and take it from his hand. 

Adrian walks away and takes a seat at one of the long tables laden with pieces of armor and weaponry. He rolls the sleeves of his crinkled shirt up to his elbows and reaches for a whetstone, then his sword. His golden flecked stare turns on you, briefly. Cold light creeps through narrow glass windows, finding him. “A salve, did Mother not get to those yet? Use it on your muscles in the evening.”

You swallow. “No, not yet. When are you leaving?” 

He lowers his eyes as a metallic sound scrapes away the silence, and you watch him whet the sword placed horizontally in his lap. “Tomorrow.” Another wail of the stone, like glassy cries of pain.

Of course, you knew; merely wanted to hear him say it. You near as Adrian works, continuing to sharpen and wipe the blade with a cloth in turns. “Are you afraid? Are you well? I know you were reluctant to join this, I—” But it was he who said that in wisdom, we too know fear. It keeps one alive, it keeps one fighting.

“I'm well,” Adrian cuts in. The answer is impassive, his eyes averted from yours, set on the motion of his hand.

His stilted replies leave no room for doubt—the wall is up and you’re more than eager to get out of here. You sling the bag with belongings over one shoulder. “Good eve, Adrian,” you say. “Actually rest, you’ll need it.” And without lingering, you turn, leaving him behind with as much dignity as you should possess.

Part II

Stylish Niichan

i’m actually losing my mind ✨ please give it back

𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑫𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑵 𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑼𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

— Bakugō Katsuki, Todoroki Tōya, Ryōmen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi, Eren Jaeger x f!reader

cw. suggestive, mild chocking, hair pulling, finger licking, biting, jealousy

M.list

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Resting on the edge of his office desk, the number one hero stares back at you as you furrow your brow and blink your long lashes, “Katsu you need to come home and rest” you complain after for the sixth night in a row your husband hasn’t come home, making you worry.

“I can’t” he growls pointing his calloused thumb at the large windows, “they need me out there” — “our kids need you too and so do I”, and silence falls when you raise your voice — when you make to leave Bakugou roughly grabs your wrist.

You bump into his hard chest as he pulls you to him, bending just enough to press his lips to yours and force his tongue past your lips. In an instant, your mind fogs when he lets go of your wrist and grabs your neck bringing his other hand to your ass, squeezing it hard.

Continua a leggere

jjk men zipping up your dress

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warnings : suggestive, light fluff, tension

a/n : something i did to my girl bestfriend the other day and it made me gay. also i didnt k is what to call this so… the name is misleading but 🧍🏽‍♀️

GOJO

“satoruuuu, can you please help me?” you whines prettily. gojo straightened up, looking at you away from the netflix tv show that kept him occupied.

“yeah. what’s up, baby?” he asked. you came closer, tiny little crop to sticking to your skin while the material of your jeans hugged your hips a little too tightly.

“i think i got them a size too small, baby. they won’t fit and i don’t wanna wear any other jeans with this top.”

gojo motioned you forward, leaning over to work his thin, long fingers around the buttons of your jeans.

these weren’t regular jeans. they were the ones with four buttons as a replacement for your zipper.

your panties peaked from underneath, if they could be even called that. you wore your thong out of your jeans today, showing off the cute dior imprint on the sides.

“toru, hurry up. i’m getting late!” you whined. gojo ignored your protest, squeezing your ass closer to him to make it fit inside your jeans.

“babe, if it wasn’t for your ass, this would’ve gone in perfectly ya know?” you rolled your eyes. fingers slowly trailing into his white hair, you tugged lightly while he worked four buttons through each hole.

you leaned back, getting annoyed at how long he was taking. you swung your hips side to side, a small habit when you felt bored.

but you were knocked out of your gaze when gojo pulled you roughly by the belt loop. you heard a thread snap and you looked down in shock.

his blue cerulean eyes stared up at you, blown wide open with lust and dominance.

“stop. moving.” he repeated.

you listened to him. not moving another inch as he pulled you closer using a finger hooked around a belt hoop.

TOJI

“tojiiiii, can you get this for me?” you said as you went up to your boyfriend. you turned around, showing him the extremely backless dress you wore. he raised his eyebrow, smiling to himself.

“you goin’ somewhere, pretty?” he asked. you nodded your head.

“i’m going out with shoko and utahime.” you chirped.

“mmm, dressed like this? coulda thought you was out to fuck other guys.”

his comment left a sour taste in your mouth. pulling away, you looked at him sadly, lip a little wobbly because how could he think of you like that?

he smirked at your distressed expression.

“i’m only messin’ wit ya.” you crossed your arms over your chest, still mad.

but toji knew how to make it right. he grabbed each wrist, pulling your arms around his neck and lifting your chin up so you could look up at him.

“look at me, babygirl.” he spoke in his husky voice.

you looked up, eyebrows still furrowed.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute with that face, ya know that? thinkin’ that it’ll really make a difference at all.” he crooned.

“shut up, toji. it wasn’t funny.”

“i think it was, babydoll.” he leaned in to your neck, pressing soft kisses around the column of your neck, right below your ear. you found it difficult to not gasp, breathing a little heavier as you tried to push at his shoulders.

toji wrapped his hands around the silky thread that ran across the span of your back, tugging it tightly while pulling you against his chest.

you gasped.

“ ‘m not done yet, where you think you’re goin’?” the deep timbre of his voice made your thighs press together, trying to hold in a squeak.

you felt your dress stick to your body tighter and together until a small snap was heard and your dress was all good to go.

toji pulled away, raising an eyebrow at your now pushed up tits.

he flicked your forehead softly, walking away to go back to whatever he was doing.

SUKUNA

“kuna, how do you do this??” you asked.

you walked up to him, almost tripping in the cloth that pooled around you.

he looked down from his throne, brows squinting as he saw your tiny form in a haori that was much too large for you.

he sighed..

“why are you wearing my haori, you bumbling fool?”

you tilted your head, looking down at the cloth that was wrapped around you, engulfing you in linens and silks.

“what?” you chittered.

“what exactly are you trying to achieve, brat?” his voice low and venomous.

“i just wanted to look pretty in a kimono.” you cried.

“well, that isn’t a kimono, for starters.” he sighed, watching your eyes tear up a little at the little mistake you had made.

within seconds, he appeared before you, a deep red kimono in hand.

his calloused hands pulled down his haori, exposing your shoulders to him. you blushed now, feeling more than exposed.

“k-kuna, what are you doing?” you asked.

“shut up. i’m aiding you.”

you kept quiet, fidgeting around a little until he raised his eyebrow at you, silently telling you to stop moving.

the haori was long gone and your body was naked and bare before him. he didn’t dare touch you slyly, though. his hands only grazed where needed and his eyes never left the fabric, not daring to look at anything he wasn’t supposed to.

his hands pulled the kimono taught around you, fixing it around your shoulders and then taking the obi to wrap around.

“life your arms.”

you did as told, lifting your arms and making a T-pose.

he worked the obi around you neatly, finishing off with a small brush to your side and a step back to admire his work.

“you look… presentable.” as he cringed.

you knew he just meant that you looked beautiful.

GETO

your roommate was the only available help you currently had. it was an awkward situation you got yourself stuck into.

“hey uhh, geto, can you please uhh zip this up?” you asked meekly.

he got up quickly, coming around so you could see each other in the mirror. you moved your hair to the side so it wouldn’t get stuck in the zipper.

he inhaled sharply, staring at the tramp stamp at the end of your back. it was cute, he thought.

he pulled your body back roughly, “sorry, my bad.” he wasn’t sorry.

you nodded, letting him carry on with the annoying zipper that just wouldn’t go up. his cold hands touched your back, making you arch away from him.

“sorry.” once again, he was not sorry in the slightest.

his heavy fingers played with the zipper a bit, trying to even it out so it could move up and down smoothly. a part of him could feel in his chest that you did this on purpose.

you probably wanted him to lay his plush lips along the juncture of your neck, kissing the skin and marring it with reminders of him.

but he pushed those thoughts away, reaching all the way down to where the waistband of your panties were, playing around with the zipper until it finally came up.

“mmm, there you go.” he said, but not before giving you a look through the mirror that made you regret not grabbing and kissing him.

CHOSO

you decided to head to the beach with your boyfriend today. you were tired and figured you needed a day off before getting back to work.

you packed your skimpiest bikini that left little to the imagination and left for a two hour beach drive.

things would’ve gone smoothly until the elastic on your swimsuit snapped.

you rushed across the sand, running to your boyfriend.

“choso, choso, my swimsuit snapped!” you whisper shouted.

he got to work quickly, putting a hand on your waist to pull your back against him. something about how rushed his actions were did something to you. a fire brewed in your belly as you thought that other people could see how close he was standing next to you, more than half naked while your tits almost flew out of your swimsuit.

“mm, maybe i’ll have gojo rent a private beach for us.” choso hummed behind you.

“why’s that?” you asked.

“so i can fuck you completely naked on the beach, obviously.”

your face turned red. “choso!” you shouted. he chuckled behind you, bending down to kiss at your neck. he bit the skin lightly, nipping just enough for you to let a small moan out.

“mmm, you’re not ashamed that others could hear, princess?” you shook your head, knowing he’d find it cute if you tried to lie.

“i should just untie this thing and fuck you right here.”

NANAMI

you were excited to wear a ball gown today. it was the first ball you were attending as kento had been invited and you were his date.

he purchased a beautiful white gown with golden accents. “for you.” he had left it on your bed with a note asking you to come down once you were done getting ready.

but if only it were that easy to wear a ball gown…

the top was a corset and you honestly had no idea how to even wear a corset. you whined as your arms got tired and you gave up trying to put this damn thing on.

there was a knock at your door.

“y/n, what’s going on?”

it was nanami. you felt a little hot. your boobs and your back was nearly out and he was the only one who could help with this current dilemma of yours.

you shook the thoughts from your head, reaching forward to open the door to let him in.

he gasped.

“oh.”

he spoke. you cringed, letting yourself curl inwards. “do i truly look that bad?” you asked.

nanami shook his head. “not in the slightest, but darling what’s going on with the back of the dress?”

you sighed, “i don’t know how to wear a corset.”

he chuckled, walking behind you and facing you in the mirror.

there was something intimate about this moment.

he used his front to push you straight against the dressing table, your mouth letting out a gasp. he pushed you down by the shoulder, acting calm and collected while your panties gained an extra layer of wetness.

you watched him in the mirror as he wrapped his hands over and over the bands of the corset until he finally pulled back really tight.

you felt the wind knock out of your legs, but you weren’t sure for which reason.

was it the lack of rooms your lungs had or how tight you were against nanami’s back?

he chuckled, tying the strings at the bottom of your waist, pulling away with just a gentle kiss on your temple like he wasn’t just in perfect position to fuck you.

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©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.