šā.Ė ( kny ) "shut up, mom!" prank on kny men !
ā¤· ćtengen, giyu, gyomei, rengoku, muichiro, obanai,
sanemi, muzan ĖĖĖ
tw yelling (as part of the prank), pregnancy, child is at least
a young teen in each scenario, minimal violence
part two here
"Shut up, Mom!" your son yells. You're reclined on the couch, fighting against the instinct to laugh. before you can deliver your line, "excuse me?", you feel a weight lift from beside you and hear the footsteps of your husband.
You almost break your neck when you turn around, eyes darting from Tengen to your now trembling son - he agreed, quite eagerly, to prank his father, but that eagerness didn't make tengen any less intimidating. Standing tall at 6'6, it's hard to look at him and not think twice about everything you say around him.
"You'd've had it easier if you said that crap to me," Tengen hisses, grabbing his son by the front of his shirt. He leans down to place his face mere centimeters from his son's, and you're perched on the edge of the couch now, ready to interfere should the situation escalate.
"You can disrespect me all you want, but your mother? You're sick in the head, boy," he says lowly, before wrapping one strong arm around your son's shoulders and resting his forearm around his neck, putting him in a chokehold without the force. "Imma teach your disrespectful ass some manners."
From your position, you can see the veins enunciated and pulsing in his neck and arms, prompting you to shoot up from the couch and rush over to them. "He didn't mean any arm by itāit's just teenage hormones," you tell Tengen, trying to pry his arm off your son.
He gives you an evidently softer look than the one he was directing at his son, but doesn't let up. You see the devious smile on your son's lips and have to shake your head in warning, hoping he doesn't open his mouth to worsen the situation.
"Nah, she's just been annoying the hell out of me," he says.
Tengen sees red and you see a murder charge.
"It's a prank! it's all a prank, a joke, you know? just... messing with you," you finally reveal, placing your hands on Tengenās arms placatingly. When your son nods in agreement, confirming your declaration, Tengen lets up and lands a gentle smack on the back of your son's head.
You let out a relieved sigh and pull a still-tense Tengen into your embrace, stifling a laugh. Youāre overjoyed that he was so quick to defend your honour, but you can't help but want to frustrate him even further. When he spots the glance you give him, your son pales and shakes his head.
You say, "though, ahem, that last bit wasn't in the script," and it's all the warning your son needs to take off sprinting upstairs.
You feel your husband disentangle himself from your embrace and chase after the poor boy. "You hurt him and i'll make you eat glass for dinner!" you call out after the hunk of muscle, seeing him hesitate at that before resuming his chase.
As agreed, you finally hear your daughter scream "shut up, Mom!" after you tell her to wash the dishes. Perfect line execution, in your opinion; very convincing.
"What?" Giyu snaps, his voice low and brows furrowed as he turns to face your daughter. your husband has never been one for extravagant and loud displays of anger, but even in quieter displays like this can you feel the heat radiate from him.
"She's always on my case about the dishes, dad! i don't wannaā"
"Shut it."
You press your lips together to contain your laugh and steel your expression into one of disappointment. "Iām sorry, sweetie, it'd just be nice to have some help around the house," you say, sighing dejectedly.
Your (feigned) sadness doesn't escape Giyuās detection, and he begins approaching your daughter with measured steps. You see the flicker of fear in her expression before she, too, steels her features. He reaches a hand out to place on her shoulder and lowers his head to stare directly into her eyes, face-to-face.
"Your wants are not expressed through childish tantrums," he warns, tightening his grip on her. "Especially not when addressing your mother. She doesn't work herself to the bone so that you can fuss about what you want."
"Butā"
"No. Apologise immediately."
You stare at your daughter expectantly, pleased that your husband is so adamant about protecting you, both physically and emotionally. She purses her lips, glances at you, then looks back up at Giyu.
"Itās just a prank, Dad."
Giyu remains silent, waiting for her to do as he asked. He clearly isn't convinced that this is all a joke and you're tempted to let this keep going. But you feel bad, having put your daughter at your husband's mercy, so you snicker quietly and wave a dismissive hand at him.
"She's not lying, honey," you say. Giyu looks at you then and raises a brow, piecing together the situation until it finally dawns on him. He sighs like he's dealing with two children instead of just the one that is his daughter.
"When i say that you'll be the death of me," he starts, patting his daughter on the head apologetically, then walking over to you and kissing your forehead, "it's not always hyperbolic. My blood pressure can attest to that."
And even then, he can't help but smile and shake his head indulgently.
Admittedly, you were scared to even think about putting your daughter in the line of fire, but you know about Gyomei's soft spot for her, so you think it balances out. Even so, your body trembled from the difficulty of containing your laughter and the anticipation.
Gyomei notices this and calls out, "are you alright, my love? Youāre shaking."
You wave your hand, making a small 'mm' sound in response. That gives him pause, but he turns back to the bookshelf in front of him with you on the forefront of his mind.
As you wash the dishes, you look over at your daughter on the couch, clutching the tv remote. "Have you hung the laundry yet, sweetheart? The sun will be setting soonā"
"Gosh, Mom, just shut up!"
You hear the slam of a book being shut and the thud of it being placed on the coffee table, before Gyomei passes byānot without kissing your templeāand heads straight towards your daughter. Your daughter, who is now trying to busy herself with the remote and avoid her father's eyes at all costs.
Gyomei stands in front of her, effectively blocking her view of the tv. His huge arms flex as he crosses them, his pale eyes piercing. "The laundry. Now."
Your daughter knows better than to respond with anything but a nod of her head. She gets up to comply, but he stops her with the clearing of his throat. She turns to face him again and he nods his head in your direction pointedly.
She swallows anxiously and mumbles a small, "sorry, Mom."
You smile and walk over to embrace her, just as Gyomei says, "I forbid such insolent attitude in this house, especially towards your mother."
Placing a gentle hand on his chest, you whisper, "it's a prank."
Gyomei relaxes a little at thatācompletely when your daughter nods her head to confirm. The two of you are then pulled into his strong arms and held against his chest. His hands smooth over your and your daughter's hair. "You girls are more trouble than I anticipate sometimes."
"Shut up, Mom!" your son shouts from his room in response to you asking him to hoover the house. You caress the swell of your pregnant belly and waddle to the stairs, placing a hand on the railing to look up at your son's bedroom door.
He makes it sound so convincing that your first instinct is to yell right back, but you remember that this is all just a prank and reign your emotions in. "It'll only take a bit, an hour tops!" you call out, knowing full well that the house Kyojuro bought for you is not one that can be cleaned in 3 hours, let alone 1.
You feel a gentle hand on the small of your back and a tender kiss on your cheek. "I'll deal with him, sweetheart. Go relax," Kyojuro says quietly, his gaze soft but burdened with a steely resolve demanding discipline.
He heads upstairs with a very weak smile in comparison to what he usually adorns, and you can see his right eye twitch and the way his breaths are inhaled deeper.
You hear him enter your son's bedroom, who argues his case for a maximum of five seconds before it turns concerningly quiet. Your brows furrow and your mouth opens to ask if everything's okay, only to shut when you see your son trudge down the stairs, the back of his shirt held up by his father's tense grip.
Your breath catches in your throat.
"Honey, don't hurt the boy," you say with a sigh.
"He's lucky i'm not," Kyojuro says, more so growls.
"Dad, listenā"
Kyojuro tightens his grip so that the neckline of the boy's shirt is practically choking him. Your eyes widen imperceptibly and you follow them as your husband leads, well drags, your son to the storage closet. He shoves the hoover into his hands before taking him into the living room.
"Clean, boy. You'd do well to preserve your energy for something useful." The way Kyojuro's eyes flash dangerously has you giddy.
Yes, he's disciplining your son, but that's... well that's kinda it. His protectiveness is so attractive.
"It's a prank," your son mumbles. You run your hand up and down your belly, pursing your lips.
"That it is, but I'm not complaining about the result," you say, grinning at the sight of your son hoovering obediently. "Not that you wouldn't have done as I told you, right?"
Kyojuro has relaxed his tense posture somewhat, but at your question, stares at the young man expectantly.
As your son heads upstairs to shower and undoubtedly game for the next five hours, you shout, "make sure to do your homework!"
He groansānice added touch to the performanceāand stomps up the last few stairs. "I know, mom! Shut up about my damn homework!" you hear the bathroom door shut behind him shortly after.
It takes a minute for you to hear any movement from Tokito, who's washing the dishes, and even then you're unsure as to how he'd react. All you can do is watch as he turns off the tap and dries his hands, then casually walks over to the small door under the stairs. He pulls it open and flicks off the electricity supply to the bathroom, effectively cutting off all the hot water. He shuts the door and walks back to the sink without a word, turning the tap on again.
You wait with deviously bright eyes and pursed lips. Then, after about 30 seconds, you hear a yelp and dejected laugh from the bathroom. Your son scurries out with a towel around his waist and a pleading expression directed at you.
You're snickering now, impressed by Tokito's prompt response. When you make no move to tell your husband, your son glares and rushes downstairs to poke his head into the kitchen.
"Dad, it was a prank, I swear. I feel so gross right now and I just want a hot shower, pleeeeease."
"That was hilarious," you finally say, having to cover your mouth at your son's desperation. He glares at you again. "shut up," he laughs out, before realising his mistake. "N-no, I didn't mean it like thatāDad, wait!"
You watch Tokito turn the tap off again, dry his hands again, and walk after your son, who runs back upstairs. "He really didn't mean it like thatāit was a prank anyway!" you call out after your silently seething husband, who gives you no response in return.
You and your son share a knowing glance before you commence your roles. "Did you get the groceries I told you to?"
"Uh... no."
You feign annoyance. "We need them for lunch. can't you go out and get them now?"
"Um, no, Mom. I'm tired. I'll probably just order some food anyway."
"Alright, well your father and I still need to eatā"
"Gosh, Mom, shut up! Just uber it or something."
The two of you fall silent then, waiting for something to happen. You glance over at your husband, who's reading on the couch and in the process of taking his reading glasses off to place them on the coffee table. Kaburamaru hisses, slithering around Obanai's neck until the majority of its body is leaning over his shoulder, facing your son.
"You ill-mannered brat," Obanai snarls, shooting up onto his feet and stalking towards the young man beside you. "I'll cut your disrespectful tongue out and shove it down your throatā"
"Woah, woah, c'mon Dad. It's just late now, y'know? I can have them delivered, from my own pocket too ifāeek!" your son manages to rush out before scrambling away from the snake on his dad's shoulder. "Why does mom let you keep that thingāno, please! I'm sorry, dad! I'm sorry!"
Obanai's hand shoots out and grabs the neckline of the teenager's shirt, using the leverage to drag him out the living room and to the front door.
You're confused as to what Obanai intends to do until you see him pull the door open and fully try to drag the boy out under the rainy sky. He would have already succeeded in doing so if said boy wasn't clinging to the door for his life, laughing and pleading breathlessly to be let go.
"Look! Look behind you!" he screams, pointing at the shopping bags by the shoe rack. "I already bought everything Mom asked me to, t-this was just a prank! I swearāMom, tell him!"
"So now you seek out your mother's kindness?" your husband hisses, mirroring the sound the reptile makes.
"No really, Iguro! It's a prankābring the poor boy back in," you laugh, rushing over to help your son up, who dusts himself off once on his feet and points an accusatory finger at you.
Obanai growls at that, and he drops the finger immediately.
"I'm never agreeing to prank this man again, you hear me?" he says, placing his hands on your shoulders. "You sentenced me to death."
Pranking Sanemi promptly activates your fight or flight, which is why you're slightly tense as you lay your feet in his lap and scroll on your phone. His scarred hands rub your ankles and heels subconsciously and you try not to let the soothing ministrations distract you from the task at hand.
Your daughter has more to worry about, though. Sanemi has never raised and will never raise a hand to his daughter, but he doesn't need violence to intimidate or make a point.
"Hey, sweetie?" you coo, looking over at your daughter, "could you make me some tea?"
"Later, Mom," she sighs, scribbling something in her homework book.
"I'm sorry to ask, it won't take longā"
"Shut uuuup, Mom! I said later!" she yells, flinching when Sanemi carelessly throws his phone to the floor and turns his full, searing attention to the disrespectful young lady.
"Get your ass up and apologise. Homework or no, you do as your mother asks," he snaps, tense and coiled like a snake prepared to strike.
When she hesitates for a split second, he shouts, "now!"
You shake your head to stop her from obeying, curious to see where this will go when she doesn't. Anxious and somewhat reluctant (but equally curious), she keeps her mouth shut and turns back to her homework, essentially ignoring Sanemi's order.
A beat passes before Sanemi lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Oh, so you think you're too good for this family, huh?" he mutters, taking care to not hurt you when he removes your feet from his lap to place them on the couch, before launching to his feet.
He doesn't even take a step before you're grabbing his arm and your daughter is laughing from sheer panic. "It's a prank," the two of you say simultaneously, making Sanemi second-guess himself for one of the very few moments in his life.
His top lip curls up. "Hah?"
"She didn't actually mean it, we just wanted to see how you'd react," you explain, running your thumb along the veins on his forearm. "I swear."
"What?" he snarls in an equally confused tone, face flushing red at the fact that he just fell for your masterfully devised plan.
When you simply grin and tug him back down onto the couch, your feet quick to settle in his lap again, he leans his head in one hand while the other resumes its ministrations on your ankles. Your daughter takes the opportunity to gather her books and hurry out the living room, stopping to kiss her dad's temple apologetically, earning a grunt from him.
"I love you," you say, grin widening when he hesitates.
"Damn you, woman," he grumbles, leaning down to rest his head on your stomach. He huffs out a quiet laugh when you smack his shoulder in protest. "I love you too."
Are you dumb? Why in the world would you think to prank this man? He's crushed skulls with a few flicks of his finger and slaughtered his own kind for the slightest display of insubordinationāare you looking to sign your death warrant?
No, because Muzan (as much as he won't admit it) has a soft spot for you. Rightly so, considering he married you and has left you wanting for nothing ever since. That and the fact that there's a 16 year old kid of his living under his roof.
You had to execute this smartly and, more importantly, safely. He's never hit you or your daughter, but he's certainly not against locking them somewhere to discipline themāthe last time he did that was when she was 3 and wouldn't take no for an answer regarding the pet she wanted. Because... a rat? really? Muzan would incinerate the creature at the slightest squeak.
Luckily, your daughter was strong-willed and wasn't sensitive in the slightest. That meant she developed zero trauma from the experience and did not grow up to hate her dad in the slightest.
Good. This should go well, then.
āCould you get the fire going in the living room?" you ask your daughter, who adopts her role immediately and rolls her eyes.
"We have servants for that, Mom."
"Need I remind you that the remaining two are busy cleaning the house?" Two instead of the initial twenty, because Muzan can't find the patience to tolerate anything from anyone. "Please?" you ask again.
"No."
"D/n-"
"No! Please just- shut up! Gosh," she huffs out, eyes already bright and curious to witness her father's reaction.
You turn back to the book you're reading and almost scream when you see Muzan standing to your left, your daughter still on your right.
"What was that?" he asks, voice smooth and low. You shiver at his tone, not from fear, but for a reason you'd explore later. "Insolence in such youth?"
He places a clawed hand on your head, not quite gently because his body is not accustomed to such, but soothingly. Enough to remind you who his anger was directed at.
"My spawn dare lash at her mother with such invective?" He sounds deceivingly calm, his hand leaving your head to stalk towards your daughter. "Well? answer me, girl."
You see his claws extend and his veins protrude, almost disgustingly so. He's trembling from the self-control he's exerting to not do as he usually does and rip the offender's throat out. It's taking a toll on him psychologically, because you see the manic glint in his eye and the cruel curl of his lips.
Even at the sight of her father's enraged state, your daughter manages to stay standing and not plead for mercy at her father's feet.
"You forget your place. You are afforded no right to such speech. Cleanse the filth from your tongue and apologise at once.ā
It is then that your daughter sees the emotion in her father's eyesāhe was undoubtedly willing to murder her if she persisted. She wishes she could photograph the sight to show you the next time you doubt his love for obsession with you.
"Sorry, Mom."
"It's alright, sweetie."
Muzan calms then, claws still extended and veins still pulsing. His body remains much too tense, even as he turns to pat your head again and pull you to his chest, looking over his shoulder to glare at his daughter.
One random night it was. Only my goal was to lure every man and woman, in exchange for the knowledge of blue spider lily.
Then this girl appeared right infront of me as if i was a some kind man that deserves to be treated as such. she lured me deep into her messages that leads to trenches. How am i supposed to lured every existing mankind if i got lured in by this girl who just appeared right infront of me.
11:54 pm in HeijÅ-kyÅĀ maybe in here i can find what i desire the most. i continue to walk by the streets mingling eavesdropping to every words said in the streets then on a girl wearing kimono was staring at me, i look back just to make sure she was looking at somebody else and make sure my eyes are not playing with me, but it wasn't. There i stood raising my eyebrow.
"Is there something wrong?" i said.
"No, you look like lost *tilts her head* perhaps"
"Excsue me?" i was shock. are youths this days really just like this assuming everything...
"Ahh well you look like in need of something, your face was saying something" She smiled
"Pardon me but don't go around just assuming things to all the people you will encounter" i said as lowered my head and walk away
"Oh apologize i was only looking because you really do seem need of help.... also really pretty...." she lowered her voice saying those last words.
"Well that's a compliment thank you. But i don't need one"
"Won't you mind if i go with you? my friends just left me" she said with such gentleness
I turned around and face her "Well what if i say no?"
"Well i'll just keep wandering around honestly *scoffs and smile*"
"Don't just come around asking someone to be with you. You'll never know who they are or what their intentions are.."
She started to follow me "Well you seem really nice"
"You only say that cause you adore such beauty nothing else" I said as i side eye her who has inches away from me.
"Not really, i find you nice young bird that's just lost in thoughts who found itself to wandered here" Oh what a word this is.
"Just because i look like letting my guard down doesn't mean im a clueless animal here. And you never know what i truly wanted we just met, you'll probably be in disturbed if you know who i am"
"i feel comfort in your disturbance" I turned around and she was smiling genuine, so bright that fills her face why on earth just a person is like this. Especially for someone like me....
"Do you wanna know who truly i am?" I said with such seriousness in my face.
"Hm? Sure why not" she's still smiling.... how weird....
I started to head somewhere far secluded from the town into more silence filled with nothing but darkness surround it. As i ventured depper i saw a bear who was perfect. I did not bother looking back at her or anything i went and killed no not killed but put a blood on it and it's skin expanded in a gruesome disgusting way and popped.
She look at it with confusion thoughts that wandered her head, he began to look for fear but no there was only confusion genuine curiosity that fills her body language. "Is she even real how on earth did she not get frightened" i thought.
"So that's what you are...? how come can you do that?" She asked with lacked of fear
"Ever heared of demons?"
"Yes, heard about it from multiple people honestly, they all say the same thing that it wanders every night lurking around, every streets, looking for a prey they can devour"
"Well this is what it looks like"
"You? Your a demon?" She tilted her head
"Well? no human can create this chaos much like you"
"How come you can do that even turned out like that. Your no demon your a human, well i guess a human who has superpowers i believe"
"Well, not every demon and monster you encounter will look horrifying hell even disgusting"
"There are more disgusting men in the streets, they're more creepier than you."
"How so?" I asked tilting my left eyebrow.
"They keep disturbing the comfort that's peacefully wandering around and soonly sabotage them and do acts that pleases them"
"Is that so?"
"I don't find you scary or anything, i found it interesting. How come someone like you who yields power don't just engage in those acts?"
"I'm not a low like man who just grabs whatever is laid out"
She didn't say anything and just tilt her head her eyes shining under the moonlight squeezing itself through little cracks it could find.
"Maybe one day you can find what you want."
"Why do you just say those stuff.."
"Because i found you comforting, someone who probably has loads of powers but still prefers to keep it below because rather creating a havoc, you create a weave of moonlight that will prosper you in the darkness you grew. Prospering them into your own desires which is probably why your fellows act so ballistic because it's your manifestation of yearning for something you wanna have."
I was silent how come someone a mere girl who i just met simply don't feel scared and disgusting like any man or woman would have. Just why does she think that creatures like us are just our desire of manifestation that made us aggresive? Is she trying to understand something. I stood there silently, like a statue i cannot move was it her kindness? How come can a mere woman made me like this. how come can a woman like her don't just run away and wish that we vanished. She wave goodbye as she said someone is probably calling out for her already for going out late at night i wanna say something say goodbye or whatever but i can't. She left and left and slowly left until i cannot see her anymore. I tried following her back looking for her again but no, she was gone. Simply gone like a bubble just popped.
How can someone find what we do just a desire? How come she never judge, yell or run away? What was comforting about here. Why does she feel so ok? So fine with it? Someone so vulnerable could act like that. Was everything that happened that night real?
I'm bored, DROP ALL YOUR HEAD CANONS ON INAZUMA ELEVEN CHARACTERS!!
Me first:
1. Even though Sakuma is a cold and stern coach during training he's actually sweet to his players outside school or training. For example, While Kidou and Sakuma is walking down the street after work or after hanging out and see one of their players Sakuma will greet and maybe mess with that player hair while Kidou will just greet and smile and maybe chuckle while watching Sakuma and the player.
2. Even though Sakuma and Kidou is giving a stern face to their players after coaching and behind the coaches office they actually lax with each other.
3. I actually imagine Sakuma giving Kidou a hug since we've seen Sakuma really being touchy towards Kidou and Kidou tolerating it even though he does not like being touch. They might kiss though š¤ ( I'm actually a huge fan of KiSaku as I am a fan of FuSakušš¤)
4. Genda is probably still playing abroad while the InaGO is happening. I actually think after years of treatment then training for his hand he finally able to make it work just as fine as before.
5. Henmi have crush on Sakuma
6. Sakuma has been mistaken as a girl many times and many lad has been giving him free drinks or asking him for his number and Fudou is always having the time of his life whenever it happens.
7. Sakuma and Gouenji is really close
8. Toramaru and Fudou is close too
9. One former teammate mistake. Miyabino as Sakuma son without the man considering the age of Sakuma.
10. I think Kidou and Aphrodi for some time have a crush on each other. Like brosss let's look at it both being manipulated by Kageyama having same sympathy for each other then in InaGO Raimon vs Kidokawa damn they're having some tension there like C'mon coaches we're in the middle of the match and you too are telepathically flirting with each other? Please. Oh, and the way Kidou is always reaching out for Aphrodi like in Orion . And I thinking they have play for some time in the same club in pro league
11. Fubuki and Aphrodi is a great acquaintances
12. Sakuma is really attracting bad guys as friends
SEX ON FIRE š„ WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY X F!READER
CAR SEX WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND
ā¤ļøāš„š”ļøall rights reserved to the artist @ogata69 on twitter (x)
ā¤ļøāš„š”ļøinspired by the king of leon's song, sex on fire
ā¤ļøāš„š”ļøwc: 4.5 k
ā¤ļøāš„š”ļøcontains sexual tension, pussy eating, sex (p in v), edging, unprotected sex, pull out method, mutual pining and cursing
ā¤ļøāš„š”ļøthank you all for the support, especially @elicypher and @ayaswrld
edit: i am still traveling, so if you want a continuation, please tell me (i've not completely finished it correctly). sorry if it's not my best work š
The rush of velocity coursed through your veins, matching the pulse of the city lights streaking past. Driving at night always felt differentāthere was an undeniable thrill to it, a spark that broke through the monotony, offering an exhilarating contrast to the otherwise predictable routine of your life.
The car glided through winding roads, past blurred signs and landmarks, each one a marker of a potential destination for some distant future. Tonight, though, the journey wasnāt about where you were headed, but about surrendering to the soft pull of the past. A fleeting sense of nostalgia washed over you, dragging your thoughts back to childhood. You remembered sitting in the passenger seat, watching adult hands move gracefully over the gearshift. Back then, freedom had felt like a distant promise, carried on the hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of practiced fingers.
Now, you were the one at the wheel, your gaze locked on the road ahead. The city had dissolved behind you, leaving only the open countryside, the outline of a secluded manor just visible on the horizon. But even with the adventure unfolding before you, something felt off. Like a gap that you couldnāt quite fill.
The soundtrack.
Your eyes flicked sideways, catching a glimpse of Williamās profile, half-illuminated by the passing neon glow. His expression was focused, lips tugging into that mischievous smile of his. There was a silent contest between you, one neither of you had fully acknowledged yet. Would it be his soulful classics, or your less-than-subtle dad playlist that would define this moment?
"Let me guess," he broke the silence, voice teasing but soft. "You want something dramatic."
A laugh escaped you, breaking the tension, but your hand was already reaching for the console. "Only if it fits the mood."
"Keep driving," he replied, his fingers dancing over the screen. "Iāll find something youāll like."
The hum of the car filled the air, the steady rhythm matching your pulse as you focused back on the road. The traffic was light, but the hours ahead would stretch into the quiet of the night before you reached your destination. William had suggested this tripāa blend of relaxation and intellectual curiosity. The Lake Districtās ties to Romantic poets intrigued you both, and you were both curious about rare manuscripts housed in a private collection near the estate.
You were reluctant to take a break. You and William were always so caught up in your work, but maybe this would give you both the pause you needed. Yet, as the city lights faded behind you, and the peaceful countryside opened up before you, there was something about the sudden shift that made you question if you were being impulsiveāor if William had more influence over you than you cared to admit.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed his calm concentration as he scrolled through the playlist. His golden hair, darker in the dim light, tousled slightlyāa rare but not unexpected sight. With one hand steady on the wheel, you grabbed his water bottle from the compartment and took a quick sip.
"You couldāve told me you were thirsty," he said, his tone light, his attention still on the screen. "Itās my job as co-pilot."
The car hummed around you as he found a playlist he seemed to approve of. The music started, and he turned to you, his expression unreadable, though the teasing edge in his voice was unmistakable.
"A playlist for driving at night, huh?" he asked, tilting his head. "Why do most of these songs sound like theyāre... about sex? Feeling a bit needy, darling?"
You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him only briefly. "Youāre intelligent, William," you replied smoothly, your tone casual. "Stop asking questions you already know the answer to."
He chuckled softly, but his gaze was still fixed on the screen. His hand rested warm and steady on the wheel, the quiet intensity of the night deepening around you.
"Thereās nothing wrong with not having a boyfriend, or having a healthy imagination," he said, voice lowering a little, almost softer now. His fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder before resting there, a touch that lingered. "It surprised me, thatās all. Youāre brilliant, desirable... anyone would be lucky to have you."
You glanced at him for a moment, a quiet smile tugging at your lips, but your voice carried the faintest edge. "Finding someone worth your time? Itās like searching for gold in a river. You know itās out there, but youāre going to waste a lot of time looking."
Your gaze flicked to his face, studying his reaction. "Most men are scum, William. Honestly, I couldnāt care less to try."
He was quiet for a moment, gaze still on the screen as though measuring his words. When he finally spoke, his voice had softened. "I wouldnāt call it wasting time. You just have to find the one worth keeping."
You shot him a sideways glance. "And where, exactly, do I find this mythical man?" you teased, voice light but with an underlying curiosity.
"Maybe closer than you think," he said quietly, the weight of his words lingering longer than you expected.
A faint smile tugged at your lips as you glanced at him. "I still think he should fall straight into my lap. Like an angel."
"So, you want a demon, then?" William shot back, grinning. "I remember you were obsessed with Sebastian from Black Butler. Your room was basically a shrineāpictures, drawings, all over the walls. Good times."
A groan escaped you, rolling your eyes in exasperation. "I was a teenager, William. That doesnāt count."
"Doesnāt it?" he teased, his grin widening. "The evidence was pretty damning."
But it wasnāt his teasing that had you biting your lip, barely able to focus on the road. It was the way his hand had settled on your thighāwarm, steady, but there with an undeniable intensity. The air around you shifted, thickened, as though the car itself was holding its breath.
"Stop teasing me," you muttered, your voice playful but edged with something else. "Or Iāll make you drive instead."
His eyes flicked over to you, amusement dancing there. "But, darling, Iām terrible with GPS."
"Exactly," you said, the words slipping out with a knowing edge. A wicked thrill ran through you as you imagined him fumbling with directions. A slight shiver passed through him.
The corner of his lips twitched, betraying the conflict inside him as he looked away, watching the road ahead. His body language was tense, the heat rising inside him not entirely from the carās temperature. The break with you had been everything he needed, but there was still a part of him that burned for more. Every teasing word, every playful exchange, only left him wanting more.
Would he try again?
He cared for youāno, he craved you. The thought of you consumed him, haunted him, until even the silence between you felt charged. Heād come up with this whole trip as an excuse to spend time with you, a reckless move, but when you agreed, it felt like everything had clicked into place.
William wanted to see the moment you let your guard down. He wanted to feel your lips pressed to his, your body against his as the heat of your connection filled the space between you. His thoughts drifted, pulling him into an imagined reality where you were finally his, where you melted into his touch. His chest tightened, the longing almost unbearable.
"William?"
Your voice cut through the haze of his thoughts, your hand waving in front of his face. His eyes snapped back to you, the moment broken, but the heat still simmering beneath the surface.
"You okay?" you asked, voice soft but insistent. "I asked if you'd like to stop for a bit."
"Yes," he replied quickly, his voice a little tighter than usual. "A break sounds good. Is there an inn around here?"
You studied him for a moment, a little too aware of the tension that had built between you both. "A break? Or are you just avoiding something?"
He looked away, his fingers absently smoothing the coat in his lap. "Something like that."
And then, his gaze met yours again, lingering just a little too long. "We all need a moment to breathe, don't we?"
You smirked. "Maybe, but I'm not sure itās just a bathroom break you need."
You shifted closer, your words soft but charged. "You think youāre the only one holding back? The way you move, the way your hands grip the chalk when youāre writing, the way your bodyālean, strongāgets so close when you explain things. The way you smell... how I can feel the heat radiating from you. Itās maddening."
The words hung between you, thick and undeniable.
"Itās maddening to realize that you donāt desire me truly, but want a distraction from your rational world. I see the glances and the whispering when we are together, it seems I am too basic to be with you ā the hot young professor ā donāt you think?"
Her words stung, sharper than he had anticipated. The casualness with which she dropped them, as if they were nothing more than another playful observation, made them all the more cutting.
He turned to her, his jaw tight, the words caught in his throat for a brief, strained moment. A part of him wanted to deny itāwanted to push the whole subject away. But the raw honesty in her eyes made it impossible to lie.
"Is that what you think?" His voice was lower now, the teasing edge gone. It wasnāt the frustration he was used to hearing in his own voice, but something quieter, something far more dangerous. "You think Iām just trying to escape the confines of my ārational worldā?"
She shrugged, her lips curling into a half-smile, but there was a softness in her gaze now, a vulnerability he hadnāt seen before. She was playing a dangerous game, one she knew all too well.
"You don't have to admit it," she said softly, eyes flickering to the road ahead, though she could feel his gaze lingering on her. "You just have to look at the way you act around me. When youāre close, it's like you're holding your breath, like you're scared to let yourself... want anything. But you're drawn in anyway, aren't you?"
William shifted in his seat, the tension tightening further. He didnāt need to admit it; he could feel itāa pull he couldnāt explain, yet couldnāt ignore.
"You donāt know anything about what I want," he muttered, though his words lacked the usual confidence, tinged with something far more uncertain.
Her laugh was soft, almost like a sigh. "Isnāt it always the way? You never want what you think you need, but you canāt stop yourself from wanting it. It's easy to convince yourself it's a distraction, a game. But itās not, William. It never has been."
The silence between them grew, thick with unspoken truths and unacknowledged desire. She didnāt look at him again, but she didnāt need to. The tension was palpable, the space between them charged with the words they hadnāt yet said but both knew were there.
"You think Iām just playing games?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She didnāt answer at first, instead letting the question hang in the air, drifting between them like the road stretching out in front of them. And when she did speak, her voice was low, steady, and undeniably certain.
"Maybe youāre the one playing games, William. But if youāre trying to keep me at armās length, youāre losing."
"Stop the car."
"What?"
"Stop this fucking car, darling." He smiled, but the smile didnāt reach his eyes. His gaze was sharp, different from all you had seem before, with a malicious glint that reminded you of blood. Sighing, you obeyed, steering the car into a small parking lot at a gas station by the side of the road.
You put the car in neutral and pulled the handbrake, unaware of when he kissed you. His voice was a low mutter, and your eyes widened as you saw a tear fall from his eye. "Why can't you understand anything I say? Do you really think I'm just a filthy womanizer, name?"
You tried to speak, but he cut you off again. "How could I even sleep with anyone when you're the only one in my mind?" He placed his hand on your cheek. "I... I even dedicated an entire thesis to you."
"Does that make you understand?" he groaned as he pulled you into an embrace, the feel of your hands on his back almost unbearable. "I love you."
His hands roamed over your body with an urgency that matched the pounding of his heart. Every touch, every breath felt like a claim, marking you as his. You could feel the heat of his body, his breath shallow against your skin as his lips traced the curve of your neck ā nibbling it incessantly.
"Do you feel it?" he whispered, his voice low and raw. "The way I need you... the way you're the only thing that matters now?" He pressed closer, his cock hard against your hand, and you could already taste the tension, thick and unrelenting. "Tell me you feel it too. Tell me you understand."
"I want you, William. I always have."
Arenāt you afraid of being seen?" you murmured, confusion evident in your voice as your back pressed against the leather of the carās backseatāthe car you had only recently bought and that wouldnāt remain so clean after this. Your gaze darted from side to side, searching for anyone who might intrude on your fragile sense of privacy.
"Who cares?" he muttered, shifting awkwardly on his knees against the carpet, his face now level with your hips. "I almost lost you because I was too scared to feel anything realālet them watch if they want."
His patience was wearing thin, but he forced himself to move carefully. He unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down your legs slowly before tossing them aside. His hands lingered, firm, his touch more certain than hesitant, as if grounding himself in the moment. His gaze burned into you, full of need and desperation, like you were the only thing in his mind.
"Open your legs for me, sweetheart." He rested his head on your thigh, his eyes almost pleading as he gazed up at you. "Let me make you forget everything that's troubling you."
You parted your legs, and the sight before him ā oh, the sight ā was enough to make him cum undone. The hardness in his pants throbbed painfully, barely restrained. A glistening patch of your arousal darkened your simple nude panties, the wetness trailing all the way to your clit. He swore he could almost catch the faint, intoxicating hint of your sweet scent.
Would you taste as good as he imagined?
He moved closer to your core, pausing just long enough for your consent. When you nodded, his fingers slid your panties to the side. He started with a slow lick, savoring your taste as he traced the length of your slit. Then came a single, lingering suck on your clit that drew a gasp and a moan from your lips. He was definitely pussydrunk.
How could he not be? You tasted divine, and the sight of your walls fluttering around nothing, desperate to be filled, drove him to the brink. It was maddening. His hand pressed firmly against your lower back, pulling you closer to his mouth. He wanted more, he wanted everything. Every drop of you.
William slid his index finger inside you, curling it eagerly toward the spot he had studied so meticulously in his anatomy booksāthe one that promised to bring unparalleled pleasure to a partner. "S-Shit, this feels so good," you stammered, biting your lip as you struggled to steady your breath.
He chuckled, unable to resist the allure of your soft, vulnerable expressions. His finger curled in a deliberate come-hither motion, coaxing pleasure from deep within as he continued to suck the very breath from your lungs. Adding a second finger, he watched you unravel before him, utterly lost in the rapture he so skillfully provided.
"Nghā¦s-so close." The pulsing sensation in your gut tightened, drawing a sharp tremble from your legs as you clenched around his fingers. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping, and your thoughts dissolved into a haze of pleasure. William's tongue moved with calculated precision, circling and teasing until the world around you blurred, leaving only him and the dizzying waves he adored.
"I won't let you cum yet," his gaze held a spark, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to tease without revealing too much. "I want you on my cock."
Before you could respond, he grabbed your arms and pushed you onto all fours. His grip was firm, immobilizing you without effort. You gritted your teeth, frustration bubbling over as the sensation of being so close yet denied coursed through you. He didn't react to your hissing protest, simply adjusting his hold to keep you steady.
"I won't stop once I start," he said, leaning close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
"Just fuck me already," you snapped, your patience gone. "Stop teasing, you bastard."
"If you insist," he said, the words laced with heat that sent a shiver down your spine.
Snap.
The sound of his belt being undone broke the air between you, deliberate and unhurried. His movements were calculated, a stark contrast to the rush of tension that gripped you both. With a flick of his wrist, he loosened the leather, casting aside the composure he wore like a mask. The William you thought you knewārefined, restrained, untouchableāwas gone, replaced by a man consumed by need.
His pants slid down to his knees, and he freed his cock,
letting it press firmly against your ass. You gasped as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck, his voice a low growl that seemed to echo in your chest.
"Do you feel that?" he murmured, his hand gripping your hip, pulling you back just enough to make his intentions clear. "This is what youāve been driving me to."
Your body tensed as he guided you into position, his hand pressing firmly against your back to arch you just the way he wanted. The cool air hit your exposed skin, heightening every sensation as his grip tightened, his fingers digging into your hips to keep you still.
The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, hot and unyielding, sending a jolt through your body. He leaned over, his chest brushing against your back as his lips hovered by your ear.
"Iām not holding back this time," he said, his tone commanding yet heavy with affection. His voice trembled slightly, giving away the tension coiled in his body. "Do you want me to fill you up?"
The weight of his body pinned you in place, but you managed to look back at him, meeting his gaze. The hunger in his eyes was unrelenting, blazing with need, but there was something deeper thereāa silent plea, almost vulnerable, as if he were asking for more than just permission.
"Yes," you breathed, the word spilling out before you could second-guess yourself. "I want you to, please."
The corner of his mouth lifted, satisfied with your answer, before his lips claimed the back of your neck in a kiss that left you trembling. Then, without waiting for a response, he pushed forward, filling you inch by inch, the stretch forcing a gasp from your lips. He didnāt stop, didnāt pause, until he was buried deep inside you, his body flush against yours.
His hand slipped from your back to your jaw, turning your face just enough for his lips to brush the corner of your mouth. "You keep pretending you're in charge," he murmured, his tone low, almost teasing. "But look where you are now."
Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth to snap back, but the slow pull of him moving inside you wiped the thought clean from your mind. He pulled back slightly, letting you feel the drag of every inch, before slamming his hips forward, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.
"Liam!"
His name spilled out before you could stop it, your voice trembling as he moved inside you with deliberate intent. A rich, low laugh escaped him, warm yet tinged with a smugness that made your cheeks flush hotter. "Thatās it," he murmured, his grip on your hips tightening. He adjusted his stance, his thighs bracketing yours, keeping you steady against the rhythm he was setting. "Say it again. I want to hear exactly what I do to you."
You swallowed hard, your breath catching as his weight pressed you deeper into the worn leather of the back seat. The windows had long since fogged, heat radiating from where your bodies met, filling the car with your scents. "Youāre insufferable," you managed to hiss, though the words wavered as your body betrayed you, arching instinctively into his sex every movement.
His response was immediate. His teeth grazed your shoulder, just enough to make your skin tingle, before his lips followed, nibbling lightly as if testing your limits. "And yet, here you are," he murmured, his hips snapping against yours with more intensity. The wet, rhythmic sound of his movements filled the cramped space of the car, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.
His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs firmly to hold you in place as he adjusted your position. The shift sent him deeper, the hard, insistent head of his cock brushing against that sensitive spot inside you, drawing a choked gasp from your lips.
"Taking everything I give you," he continued, his voice softening but never losing that sharp, teasing edge. His pace didnāt falter, every thrust hitting the perfect angle, as if he had mapped out every way to fuck you long before this moment.
"Tell me again," he murmured, his body pressing closer, his chest brushing against your back. His breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "How youāre the one in control, name. Iād love to hear it."
For all his gentlemanly charm, William could truly be insistent at times. The control he prided himself on could crumble so easily, his reason slipping away as instinct took over. It was almost funnyāalmost. The way the heat of your pussy wrapped his dick, engulfing him completely, made it impossible for him to think clearly. All that careful composure vanished, his blood rushing south until he felt dizzy with pleasure.
He paused, his moans growing louder as he began grinding in slow circles. You felt your arousal trailing down your thighs, threatening to stain the leather seats beneath you
"Oh my fucking god," William muttered, pulling away, slick coating his lips and chin as he stared at the mess youād made. "Look at that pretty pussy. So wet, all for me." A soft slap to your ass had your body jolting.
You let out a breathless laugh, your head dropping forward as your fingers clawed at the edge of the seat. "You talk too much."
"Stop pretending you donāt love it," he murmured, his voice rough but steady as his eyes locked onto yours. His pupils were blown wide, his golden hair damp and sticking to his forehead from the heat between you.
His pace slowed, his hand sliding around to your abdomen as his thrusts grew more intentional. His palm pressed against your skin, right over the spot where he could feel the motion of his cock inside you, eager to see your expressions.
You felt yourself nearing the edge of climax, and you knew he was just at the same point. The slick noises intensified with each of his final thrusts into you.
"If you stain my car, you will clean it, okay?" you chuckled, your voice breathy, as he massaged your clit in circular motions while rolling his hips. You moaned loudly, the dizzy sensation in your head reaching its apex, your vision momentarily going black.
"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Iāll clean it every time, dear."
He bit his lip as he reached the edge, pulling out of you and wrapping his hand around his length. Pumping up and down along his flushed shaft, he moaned your name, circling the tip with his thumb until sticky ropes of cum painted your back white.
You looked at him and sat down, your legs trembling, your skin slick with sweat and stained with his cum. "Iām exhausted. God."
"I am no god, name," he smirked teasingly, pulling a cloth from the car door compartment to clean you. "But I can be your boyfriend."
"As if Iād let you have me this easily," you huffed, crossing your arms. "We still have two hours left, and you just lost your driver."
"Go, go, math genius. Iāll help you with the GPS," you added nonchalantly, pushing him lightly and pointing to the steering wheel.
He pecked your cheek and ruffled your hair. "Iād do it even if you hadnāt asked."
William reached for his boxers, pulling them up his legs and over his hips in one swift motion. He grabbed his jeans next, stepping into them and tugging them into place before fastening the button and belt.
He opened the car door and stepped out, the sound of his shoes faint against the ground as he moved around to the driverās side. Once there, he opened the door, slid into the seat, and adjusted it slightly, his hands steady as they found the steering wheel.
"But Iāll really need your help to understand these maps," he pouted. "Iām a mathematician, but this type of technology is a no for me."
You sighed, sitting down next to him after putting your clothes back on. "I hope this place is actually relaxing and interesting."
"Letās go, darling," he said with a smile. "Iām paying for it anyway."
stormborns
2087
gracieabrams
romaincrisis
