#Okay MAYBE I do indulge in a little x reader in the form of putting my strap in Johnny Lawrence’s stomach like he needs and likes

[zappedbyzabka]

The tragedy is that Johnny doesn’t get to be queer but he at least wanted to get pegged by that bar lady so bad. Please, thats all Im asking for at this point, show writers.

[flemingsfreckles]

Something New (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.

Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.

WC: 2.4k

A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)

“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.

“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.

“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.

“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.

The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.

When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.

“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”

You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.

“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.

“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.

After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.

“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.

“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.

“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.

“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.

“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.

“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.

“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.

“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”

“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.

“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”

She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.

“Let’s go in.”

“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.

“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.

“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.

You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.

You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.

You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.

You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.

“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.

“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.

Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.

You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.

“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.

You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.

“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”

She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”

“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.

Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.

“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.

“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.

“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.

You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.

“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.

“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.

You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.

“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.

She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.

You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.

“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.

You nod quickly at her.

“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.

She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”

[bigfatbimbo]

Please do continue about girldick Charlie! I want to see your thoughts!

girldick charlie x reader general headcanons —

summary — Vague, horny and self indulgent rambles about girldick Charlie… obviously

a/n — I love her so much. My problem is that no one ever requests her! Anyways, i’m eating this prompt up.

warning — smut, charlie is a switch and so is the reader in this scenario, girldick, oral, degradation and praise, NOT ENTIRELY PROOFREAD!!!

***QUICK BACKUP INFO IF YOU DIDN’T SEE THE POST!!! Basically, we see that Lucifer has the ability to shapeshift, and since i’ve already written boycunt Lucifer… and Charlie is his daughter… maybe that ability would be… passed on. No because like you would just ask her like, “Dick tonight, baby?” and she’d be like “Of course, sweetie. Anything for you!” as if it’s not a wild as fuck request. Like you’re literally asking ‘Hey, can you casually just switch up your body parts for a sec? I feel like getting fucked outta my mind.’ And Charlie is just down immediately. Anything to make you happy and feeling taken care of is okay with her. Stressful day? Feeling bad about yourself? Just horny as fuck? Your problems will be solved with Charlie’s dick and the best goddamn aftercare of your life. Because when Charlie leads, she’s absolutely a soft dom/service top. Everything she says and does is to make you have a good experience because to her, sex is not about how she feels! She is ensuring you’re having a great time at any cost. So maybe you had a super stressful day, you’re anxious about work you didn’t do or didn’t compete well enough, and it’s bugging you. She’s coaxing you into taking a break, telling you she’d take care of you. Her comforting words while rubbing your shoulder quickly turns into her on top of you, gently fucking into you with praising words. She’s rutting into you at a steady, but not rough pace, with her hands pining your wrists above the bed. And she’s going on and on, semi-coherently might I add because she’s very sensitive, about how proud of you she is, and how hard you worked, and how you’ve done everything to deserve this. And even though she’s not used to having a dick so she’s super touchy and hypersensitive, she would literally never cum until you have. Your pleasure comes first, always. But…. mean Charlie does something to me. Because she’s not easily upset, doesn’t have a temper, and is very nice. However, her demon form?? That ‘fuck you’ to Susan?? When she’s mad it’s a whole other story. Imagine the rare situation pissing her. Poking her and fucking with her, giving her kids of shit and attitude all day, and then finally she snaps. And she uncharacteristically aggressive. Her horns come out and she fuck you actually rough, with little to no mercy. But after one round she’d go back to her normal praising self, making up for her degrading words with loads of praise while she recedes into her normal gentle pace. Anyways, let’s talk about subby girldick Charlie, thank you very much. There are two roads you could take; very praising, or needlessly mean. Charlie and praise stick out to me so much. She’s always doing everything in other peoples favor. She solves other people’s problems, not her own. A little hypocritical, don’t you think. So she’s in her office overworking herself as usual, but you can’t stand that. Obviously, you go to put a stop to it. Giving her a long kiss, before whispering, “Dick today, please.” and she’d hesitate and be like “Honey… I have a lots of work to do and—“ but you’d emphasize your first point with a harsher, but not mean, strict tone, “Now, baby.” She’d reluctantly oblige, watching as you sink to your knees and pull her pants down, reading her hardening cock. “Oh, you think now is really the best time too— nngh!” she’d try to protest, being cut off with a moan as you drag your tongue across the length of your dick. After muttering about how ‘beautiful’ she is, you fully sink your mouth down onto her, taking her in. Your pace starts slow, getting used to her dick in your mouth, pulling out whimpers from Charlie as she leans back in her chair, and softly petting her thighs to comfort her. But then you speed up, and Charlie’s whimpers become loud and needy whines. She can’t help how fast she cums in your mouth. “I’m so sorry— I— Are you okay? Was that too much?” But then you fucking swallow and go back down for more. The only times you pull away are to tell her how pretty she is, how amazing she’s doing, and how beautiful she sounds

 And let me tell you, she is reeling under all the praise. She’s squirming in her seat while you suck her cock dry, all while saying such nice things. She can barely contain herself, even when her eyes go red and her horns come out. 

But, imagine being mean to her about it. Like practically demanding her dick, but this time, in a mean way. Shoving her down on the mattress and riding her dick so fast and rough she can barely take it.

And when her eyes full with tears because of the overstimulation, degrading her for being such a crybaby. “Oh please, Charlie. You can’t even handle this? Is the poor princess crying over how good her dicks being rode? Pathetic.”

And she cries even harder because she didn’t even do anything to warrant that!! But she finds it harder and harder to be upset when you’re humping her rougher after every orgasm. 

It’s fogging up her brain so bad, she can’t even ask you to stop being mean anymore, she just whines and arches off the mattress as you slam your pussy against her achey, used up dick. Now, would she call you mommy while you ride her dick in oblivion? Well with the absence of her own… no yeah. The answer is yeah. Oh, and imagine making her have a dick JUST to peg her and not give any stimulation or attention to it at all. Hearing her whine as her hands go to jerk herself off, but batting them away, telling her she needs to be patient.

a/n — Boy oh boy, do I love being mean to nice people, or what, folks? Anyways, send more Charlie requests. We as a society need more of her.

[aluciahaz]

Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[hoes4hoseok]

mehndi laga ke rakhna

heeseung looks for his name in your henna the night before your wedding.

pairing :: lee heeseung x gn!reader genres/au’s :: fluff warnings :: brief food talk word count :: 0.5k author’s note :: i don't care how this performs (at least i'm telling myself that) because this fic is completely self-indulgent. no one asked for this. i hope my fellow desis and everyone else who chooses to read this enjoy this nevertheless. this is so embarrassing omg DON'T LOOK AT ME. also, jaanu means dear in urdu/hindi and i used it because i'm feeling delusional. beta readers :: @sunoosill but she might have been too busy laughing at me to actually edit it LOL I APPRECIATE YOU THO <3 soundtrack :: kesariya (honestly i was listening to o re piya while writing but that song makes me sad so here)

“oh, you look beautiful,” heeseung declared from the couch, his right hand on his heart as you rounded the corner into your warmly lit living room, “do a little twirl.”

“i’m wearing pajamas, heeseung,” you protested but lifted the ends of your pajamas to spin for your fiancé with a bashful grin. 

“how long did this take?” heeseung’s eyes widened as you approached, surprised by the level of detail in your mehndi.

“five or six hours. she had to cover my feet, too,”

“five or s—” heeseung’s mouth fell agape, “i hope you got to eat and drink water.”

“i did, don’t worry,” you laughed off his comment, recalling how frantic your friends and family were to ensure you were doing just that, “and…i have a little surprise for you.”

heeseung tilted his head in curiosity, gaze fixed on you as you joined him on the sofa. “and what would that be?”

“do you remember that tradition i told you about? the one that—”

“you wrote my name in there?” a toothy smile started to form on heeseung’s lips as he gently pulled your right hand toward his face.

“just your first name,” you smiled, combing the hair that had fallen into heeseung’s face in his excitement back with your free hand. he remained focused on your hand as he used his pointer finger to follow a spiral from the center of your palm outward.

“this will be so easy,”

“if you think it’s so easy, maybe we should add some stakes,” you suggested. you tried to sound like you had just come up with this idea, but your delivery revealed that you had thought about it much beforehand. he looked up with a cocked eyebrow, always in the mood for a challenge. “if you don’t find your name in the next three minutes, i win — in which case, i get to write my name on you too. in the same spot.”

“okay, deal,” he said softly, smiling to himself as he set a timer before looking back down at your mehndi. your heart swelled with affection as he moved his touch along your forearm to check there, grazing each square inch with his soft fingers. he met your eyes momentarily, shaking his head as if to say “not on this one.”

picking up your left hand, he repeated the process, starting from the center of your palm and working outward. he paused briefly midway through tracing your fingers but continued, biting his bottom lip to conceal a grin.

“you have a terrible poker face, jaanu,” he pretended not to hear you, so you wiggled your fingers to get his attention. “i know you found it.”

“you’re so sentimental that i knew exactly where it was going to be,” heeseung admitted, curling your left index and middle fingers forward to reveal, among the scallops of the design, ‘HEESEUNG’ written along the length of your ring finger. “but i knew you wanted to write your name on my hand.”

“oh, who’s the sentimental one now, hm?” you rolled your eyes, giving a playful push to his shoulder.

heeseung reached behind himself to reveal a mehndi cone, a proud smirk on his face, “might be me,” he handed you the cone and put his left hand in yours.

“it’s definitely you,” you leaned forward, pressing a small kiss onto the corner of his grin.

masterlist

[poweringthroughthis]

love in three acts | kim mingyu, wong yukhei

nsfw, mature content, minors DNI! (ftm friendly)

ship: wong yukhei (lucas) x male reader, kim mingyu x male reader

warning: extreme feminization, reader is a femboy,

(reader's genitals are referred to as pussy/tits).

pure filth, read at your own risk

(requested!)

act i.

Life is not what it is portrayed to be in cinema. (name) learned as much now that he was well into his 4th semester of college. Society has romanticized the college experience to such an extent that one dives in, expecting alcohol, parties and an enchanting love life to be the frontrunners, while in actuality, it is assignments, exams and stressful days filling the void most of the times.

Nothing changes if you don't make it happen yourself. Your dream life doesn't manifest one day magically, and your love life doesn't become one for the books by itself either. You need to start living the way you want to. That, is the only viable form of happiness in today's world. At least that's what (name) taught himself during one of his loneliest nights, freshman year, which culminated with a self-therapy session.

Then the nerdiest, biggest pushover of a guy, (name) was now a changed man. He had the biggest glow-up: his slender curves, thick thighs and pretty eyes, putting everyone's wildest dreams to shame in comparison. He embraced his true self fearlessly, taking control of his life and living the way he wanted to. He had definitely been happier ever since then, but he believed it did little to better his dating life as he was still boyfriend to a man seemingly afraid to love him in public.

Wong Yukhei is a lot of things, but inherently smart, he is not. Which is why he doesn't understand why his boyfriend is upset with him right now. "W-what do you mean?"

"Seriously Lucas? We've been over this before. Every time I as much as I lean into you in public, you go off to do something else with your friends. It's like we're strangers in public." (name) explained, perplexed.

"It's not like that! You know I love you. It's jus-just.." Honestly, Lucas didn't know himself why he'd been subconsciously dodging his boyfriend's advances while they were out. It's not like he never indulged in PDA with his previous partners. Maybe he'd been getting too caught up with his friends that he unintentionally neglected his boyfriend each time they were in the public eye.

"You know what? I need to go. Come find me when you have an answer. " (name) scoffed dejectedly, storming out of the empty classroom, leaving the flabbergasted giant behind. (name) started wondering if he wasn't attractive enough for Lucas.

If only he knew how wrong that assumption was. Because if that was the case, he wouldn't have the hunkiest man to ever exist (besides his own boyfriend), eye-fucking him from behind. The large man traced (name)'s every movement with great intensity: the way his hips swayed as he walked quickly, the way his skirt rode up just enough to show his supple thighs, even the way his ass looked perfect as he bent down to pick up his fallen stationery.

Kim Mingyu was a lot of things. And like every other guy, being inexplicably horny at the sight of a pretty boy, was one of them. he snapped out of his daze, dashing to (name)'s side, helping pick up his belongings from the floor, without failing to catch a peek of his bra underneath the dress. needless to say, he had to physically restrain himself from popping a boner then and there.

"Hey, you okay? Looking a little sad there" he offered his charming smile, making (name) look up as he straightened himself. His gaze fell on the handsome man's huge biceps, that flexed under the weight of his stack of books, threatening to rip his half-sleeved tee that was already too tight for his massive chest. It was hard not to, when a 6 ft hunk was sizing up his body shamelessly.

"I'm Mingyu. I'm in this faculty too. 3rd year"

"(name). 2nd year." Offered he, politely.

"Boyfriend problems?" Mingyu inquired, (name) taken aback. "Just guessing", he clarified, knowing fully well he eavesdropped into the couple's conversation earlier. What? He just wanted to see for himself who bagged this hot specimen before he could. Before (name) could respond, Mingyu moved closer.

"I won't pry into your personal life, but tell you what. Any man that doesn't appreciate you enough, is a loser."

He ran his hands all over (name)'s curves, finally slipping underneath his skirt to grope his ass and lift one of (name)'s legs against his groin, making the boy gasp.

"Someone who loves the beauty that you are, y'feel me?" His breath fanned over (name)'s face, the boy feeling 50 emotions at once.

"I,I shou-"

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" the duo turned towards the source of the voice: (name)'s seething boyfriend. Lucas stomped over to them, snatching (name) from Mingyu's grasp and wrapping his bulky arm around his waist, pulling the boy flush against his hard chest.

"Not so shy touching him in public anymore?" Mingyu teased. If Lucas wasn't mad jealous right now, he'd probably wonder how Mingyu knew about the couple's fight. But he couldn't care less right now. He all but dragged (name) back to the empty classroom, heels clacking against the tiled floor and slammed the door shut.

"What's wrong with you Lucas ?"

"ME? The fuck's wrong with him? How dare he lay his hands on MY boyfriend?" Lucas fritted his teeth.

"I might as well let him. Since YOU'RE so ashamed of touching me. I bet, with his huge arms and adonis-like body, he can easil-"

"You mean, these?" Lucas threw his stupid smirk (name)'s way as he flexed his massive biceps that threatened to spill out of his half-tee.

"Lucas! W- what if someone sees us? The door has a huge window" (name) stuttered, turned on by his boyfriend's manly display.

"I don't give a fuck anymore." Lucas said, taking off his shirt over his head in one swift motion, using only one hand.

Throwing shame out the window as all coherent thought left his body, (name) ran firm hands all over the muscle mass that was rock hard under the touch. He squeezed the giant pecs as Lucas made them bounce. "You like that?" He smirked.

"So fucking much, you're so big and strong for me." (name) moaned, latching his mouth to suck on the bulge of Lucas' biceps, the giant flexing them hard in (name)'s mouth. The musky scent of sweat filled the air making (name) hornier as the recalled how hot Lucas looked playing basketball earlier, all sweaty and pumped up.

He ran his tongue over all his muscles: the abs, the meaty chest, the armpits, licking every crevice of the result of his boyfriend's hard work.

Lucas moaned, throwing his head back, grabbing a fistful of (name)'s hair as he pushed him further towards his body.

"Yeahh, worship those muscles like the good boy you are."

"You're so fucking hot, baby. Look how fucking huge you are."

Lucas growled, turning (name) around harshly, removing the string of his dress with one hand, the piece of fabric falling aside at once.

"This little pussy is mine" He landed a smack on (name)'s hole, cupping him hard through his panties, the boy shaking from the recoil of Lucas' strength. "Gonna ruin it with my fat cock, baby."

"Yes, daddy. Do it, fuck me!" (name) cried.

Lucas delivered more slaps on his clothed cunt, (name) tearing up and thrashing from the impact, but Lucas held him in place with one hand and he continued using the other to smack his pussy. "Crying already? Wait till I'm done with you. you're gonna cry harder than now, begging me to stop, but I won't."

(name) sobbed at the prospect, loving every second of it. Lucas grabbed a fistful of the boy's ass, kneading the flesh hard, digging his nails deep into his plump flesh. "You have the fattest fucking ass" Lucas groaned, slapping it hard again, and again, and again.

"I'll make sure this fat ass bounces when I fuck you."

Lucas turned him around, grabbing him by the back of his thighs and lifting him up easily.

"Ah! Lucas, fuck! You're so strong."

"Yeah? Want me to throw you around? Use my muscles to manhandle you and fuck you real hard, huh? Like this" Lucas lifted him up in the air and threw him on the desk. He leaned in, pushing his muscular body flush against (name)'s soft one.

He grabbed the boy's neck, squeezing it hard and forcing him to look him in the eyes. "I'm going to wreck you."

"Please" (name) choked out.

Lucas released his grip, sliding the panties clean off and shoving three of his fingers in.

"Look at how small your little clit is, baby. This is so cute, I'm gonna enjoy stretching it out."

He rubbed his calloused thumb on his swollen clit, teasing it in circles as he pushed his thick fingers deeper, adding his pinky.

"Fuck! Oh my god, you're so deep. I can't.

"That's right. Scream my name. Make everyone hear that you belong to me." The giant rammed his digits harder, abusing (name)'s sensitive spot. His body jerked forward and fell on the table behind him, hands scrambling for support.

"Fuck! I can't, please-ah!"

Lucas didn't relent, adding his pinky to the mix, his knuckles rubbing against (name)'s walls. "Take it! Take it like a good boy."

The taller boy continued his merciless assault, ramming his thick fingers in and out of his boyfriend. (name) felt the familiar knot in his stomach as the pressure kept building. "Cumming, please-!"

"Yeah? Gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my fingers? Cum like the good boy you are."

(name) did as told, clenching and shaking, squirting all over his boyfriend's fingers. Lucas took out his digits slowly, admiring the mess, licking his fingers clean and tasting his boyfriend's juices.

"Fuck, you're delicious. Turn around."

"W-wait, I'm sensitive-!"

"I don't fucking care. I'm gonna eat this pussy till I'm satsified. "

(name) turned and laid down, the hard wood of the desk supporting his back. Lucas grabbed him by the ankles and hooked them over his broad shoulders, spreading his legs apart. His heels almost reached the top of the man's back, but it did not deter him as he leaned down and pressed a kiss on the wet slit, his warm breath fanning over (name)'s sex.

"You look so beautiful right now. Your tits spilling out of your bra, and your legs spread wide for me."

Lucas dove right in, burying his face in the boy's pussy, licking and sucking at the swollen clit.

"Ah, Lucas-fuck! So good"

(name) gripped the hair on the man's head, bucking his hips as he was sent to another realm. He felt the wet tongue prodding and sliding, the sensation overwhelming his body.

Lucas captured (name)'s labia in his mouth, suckling hard between his lips and pulling it back with a pop sound. The lewd action made (name) cry out as he was eaten out, his pussy abused and raw, the man's tongue lapping at his entrance.

"Lucas, I-I can't take it. Too much, ahh"

"Yeah? Like how I eat your fucking tight pussy?

Lucas licked and sucked his boyfriend's clit, slurping up the juices from the sensitive hole. "Fuck, I can do this all day."

"L-Lucas, wait! I can't! Please-ah!"

Lucas kept at his pace, eating (name) out, the latter feeling his orgasm approaching rapidly. "I'm-cumming! "

The giant smirked, completely pussy drunk. " Yeah? Eating this little pussy so good, huh? Go ahead and cum all over my tongue, baby. Cum on my fucking face."

(name) was a panting and moaning mess. He couldn't take the pleasure and pain mixed together, and it all culminated as he squirted all over his boyfriend's mouth, the giant swallowing it all up.

Lucas sat on the teacher's desk, pulling (name) harshly onto his lap. He massaged his tits through the bra, growing hornier and more aggressive by the second. He couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful view of his boyfriend in nothing but heels, the black material covering his breasts.

"Take that fucking bra off" Lucas growled, pinching the buds beneath the fabric.

(name) reached behind him and undid the strap, the garment falling and pooling around his waist.

"Fuck" Lucas whispered as he squeezed the soft mounds in his large palms. He brought his head down and suckled the rosy buds, biting them harshly and leaving marks around the skin.

"Oh fuck! Please, more!

"Yeah, you like that? My mouth all over your pretty little tits?"

"Mmm, yes"

Lucas continued his ministrations, slurping noises filling the room as squeezed and sucked harder.

"Oh fuck, I need you, now. Turn around and show me your pretty little ass."

(name) slid off his lap and turned around, his knees resting on the wooden desk and his palms spread in front of him.

Lucas unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock, already leaking precum. He gave his length a few strokes before sliding the mushroom tip across his boyfriend's pussy, the heat of the wet flesh driving him crazy.

"Please, put it in. Put it in!"

"Yeah? This is what you wanted all along, huh? Wanted to be fucked stupid in the middle of class? Wanted me to breed you full?"

"Fuck yes, please"

Lucas didn't waste any time, grabbing his thick member and pressing the head against (name)'s sopping entrance. The hole twitched at the touch, aching to be filled. He pushed the head in and watched as the hole stretched to accommodate his size, a moan escaping his throat.

(name) whined at the feeling of being filled to the brim. The cock inside him was massive, stretching his insides and reaching the deepest parts of him.

Lucas grabbed his boyfriend's waist and rammed into him, his cock disappearing into the warm cavern. "Fuck! You feel so fucking good, babe".

The man kept his pace, his thrusts getting deeper and rougher. He leaned forward and bit the boy's earlobe, whispering filthy nothings to him.

"You take my cock so well, huh? Such a fucking good little boy.

"Ahh, please. Faster"

"Yeah, you want me to fuck you faster? Wanna feel my cock in your stomach? Wanna be fucked stupid?"

"Please! I'm so close, please let me cum!"

Lucas grabbed his boyfriend by the back of his neck and pushed his face down on the table, his hips never ceasing their movements. Lucas' strength never failed to amaze (name). He always sent himself over the edge thinking how the giant could easily snap him into two.

"Ah, I'm- I'm cumming!

"Go ahead and fucking cum. Squeeze my dick, milk me dry."

(name) shook as he squirted all over the thick cock, his walls tightening and convulsing around his boyfriend's length.

"Ah, fuck!"

Lucas slammed his hips forward, his balls smacking the boy's ass cheeks. His seed flooded the insides, filling him up to the brim and painting his walls white.

He pulled out his length and watched the cum trickle down the boy's thighs, the sight making him twitch.

(name) laid exhausted on the desk, his eyes shut and his lips parted. Lucas tucked his dick back in his pants and carried his boyfriend bridal style, the boy resting his head on the man's broad chest.

Lucas kissed his forehead as he left the classroom, carrying his boyfriend to his car.

Little did they know, they were being watched in this classroom, yet again.

Kim Mingyu let out ragged breaths, his head against the cold wall of the lecture halls, eyes closed and lips parted. He was sweating profusely and his jeans felt unbelievably tight. As he came down from his high and removed his hands from over his crotch, he looked down to see what the stickiness was.

He was so crazy over seeing (name) being wrecked in nothing but heels that he came in his pants.

[ikigaisvt]

A good job kiss and red roses.

in which you are jealous of jeonghan giving out roses to his fans during his concert and he catches on quicker than you think.

pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader words count: 883 content: fluff, domestic, idol au warnings: extremely self indulgent im so sorry, a little bit of angst? reader is jealous for like 2 seconds, petnames (for reader: angel, love, sweetheart / for jeonghan: my love), skinship (hug, backhug, talk of kiss, implied kiss), reader is smaller than jeonghan note: hi everyone! i didn't thought i'd post something tonight but today's concert and jeonghan's selca on twt ruined me,;;,;,,, so i have been deluluing! shoutout to @homerunhansol for deluluing with me all day,, this came to be because she told me jeonghan is my bf and he is giving me flowers. i haven't recovered yet! i hope everyone likes it, don't be shy to send feebacks and reblog! (and yes i made a reference to jeonghan's solo song during ideal cut,,, @ jeonghan perform purple rose again pls)

Tonight is one of those night I wish I wasn’t dating an idol, you think to yourself. Of course, you love your boyfriend, Jeonghan, more than words could ever say. You don’t know why it pulls at you heart strings so much to see him give flowers to his fans – maybe it comes from the fact that he gave you flowers only thrice in your 2 years of dating. You know deep down it doesn’t have the same meaning when he gives flowers to his fans between when he gives you flowers – and yet you can’t stop the jealousy seeping in your bones and the pout forming on your lips.

As you wait for him to come home, you continue to scroll down through all the photos and videos you see of fans getting a flower from Jeonghan tonight. I am not going to be jealous; you say to yourself. Once he comes home, this stops. As you look at the clock, you realize he should have come home at least an hour ago but you don’t even have the time to worry that you hear the front door opens and the familiar sound of his steps – just from the sound, you know he is trying to get his shoes off without bending down. Typical Jeonghan.

"Jeonghan?" you call out to him.

"Angel? You waited up for me? Wait- I’m just trying to get this off." you hear him mumble to himself.

You set down your phone and get up from the couch to greet him – and give him his congratulation kiss for a good job. As you make your way to him, you remind yourself to stop being so jealous – and to stop pouting. You don’t even get to the entry that Jeonghan appears in front of you, pretty as ever – and carrying a bouquet of red roses, a little withered.

"I’m sorry I came home so late", he tells you, "I- I had to pick this up", he says as he holds out the bouquet in front of you.

"Is this for me?" you ask him, taking the bouquet in your hands. I can’t believe I doubted him even one second, you tell yourself.

"Of course, love", he says, "who else could it be for?" he says with a teasing tone.

Oh, he knows.

"Your fans, I guess", you mumble more to yourself than for him.

"What was that?" he questions as he follows you into the kitchen.

"You know it all, don’t make me say it again", you answer as you fill a vase with water for your roses. They really need it.

"Yeah, I do, sweetheart", he tells you, his voice getting quieter and not so teasing anymore, encircling your waist with his arms and his chin finding rest on your shoulder. "I can promise you that this doesn’t mean the same. To give them flowers and to give you flowers."

"I know", you say as you work on putting the roses in the vase correctly. You set it down on the counter delicately and put your hands over Jeonghan’s. "I’m not mad, I promise", you almost whisper. "I was a little jealous but now I’m okay. Thank you for the roses, my love", you tell him as your turn around in his hold, your arms resting on his shoulder. "But how did you know I would need this?"

"I realized when I was getting my makeup done for the concert", he tells you, his thumb making circles on the exposed part of your skin – between your shorts and your shirt. "I begged my manager to go buy a bouquet of red roses and drop it off at the dorm. I guess neither him or Seungkwan thought about putting it in water hence why they look so sad", he explains as his hand reaches the roses behind you, your gaze following his movement. "I went directly from the concert hall to pick it up but the traffic was insane so I got here late."

"You didn’t have to do all that, Jeonghan. Especially after that insane concert."

"I know", he says, gazing at you, "but I truly wanted to. Did you watch it?"

"Yeah, I did, you were all amazing. I was cheering for another Aju Nice round", you chuckle.

"We might have died if we kept going", he chuckles. "Thank you for watching it, angel. But I think we’re forgetting something here."

"We are?" you say with a smile, having a pretty good idea of what it is. "And what is that handsome boy?" you say, your fingers playing with his hair at the nape of his neck.

"Where’s my good job kiss?" he asks in a pout.

"You will get it on one condition", you tease him.

"Tell me anything and I’ll do it."

"Yoon Jeonghan, you are tempting me right now", you giggle. "Can I choose the color of the next bouquet of roses you’ll get me?"

"Oh angel, of course", he says, "what color would you like?"

"Purple roses", you whisper as you get on your tiptoe to kiss him. After all, he did a perfect job tonight – at both being a boyfriend and an idol.

thank you so much for reading, i hope you liked it! if you did please don't forget to reblog

[peachoni]

Part of the family

⏤ an: Idk about anyone else BUT Wayne really stuck out to me in season 4. Like I feel like he would be such a sweetheart to Eddie's s/o :3 I’M NEW TO WRITING PLS BE NICE :D

⏤ warnings n' stuff : Fluff, father figure(reader has absent father) Wayne/Wayne just being amazing, make out sesh ig

⏤ pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

⏤ wordcount: 948

You adored Wayne. You were pretty nervous to meet him at first but over the 2 years you've been with Eddie, you've gotten very close to Wayne. Like Eddie, Wayne would always be the first person to call if you were in a pinch. This particular day ways like any other Friday. You going over to Eddie's trailer and spending the weekend there. You had a key to the trailer so you unlocked the door and smiled once your gaze met Wayne who was sitting on the couch eating his dinner as he prepared for his shift at the plant. "Hey Wayne!" you said happily as you walked to Eddie's room to set all your things down before heading back to him.

"Hey hun. Good day today?" he greeted and you nodded. "Yep! I passed that test I was talking to you about a few days ago." you beamed and he smiled, a small chuckle coming from him.

"See I told you. You needn't worry about it. You're a smart girl and can do anything you put your mind to." he replied which made you smile. "Eddie could take a few pointers from you." he joked before shaking his head.

"Mmm he is trying his best. He actually listens to me when I can tell he is struggling with homework. Soooo that's progress." you replied which made Wayne laugh a little.

The both of you talked about school, your plans after you graduated and minor issues at home, not that there was many but just a few things that were bugging you. Wayne as always assuring you it would all be okay and giving you the best advice he possibly could. Then the question came about. "Wayne... has Eddie ever... talked to you about his and I's future?" you asked vaguely, knowing Wayne would understand what you were asking. "Well uhh. Eddie.. He ain't to open about things of that nature. But just looking at my nephew and how he is around you, I already consider you a part of the family. Eddie may not properly ask for maybe another year but believe you me, he will do it when he thinks you are both ready." he explained to you and you felt tears forming in your eyes before placing your face in your hands.

You were quiet for a few moments before placing your hands down, staring at his ring that used to adorn his right ring finger, which was now on yours. "Thank you Wayne, I really needed to hear that." you said before clearing your throat and walking to Eddie's bedroom. ‘Part of the family....’ you whispered to yourself with a smile.

The end of Eddie's beloved D&D campaign was after school. You swore he loved that campaign more than you sometimes. But you loved seeing him so happy so it didn’t bother you how much time he focused on it. You had a lot of homework to get done so you were a bit grateful that it happened this way. With Eddie here, you wouldn’t be able to get anything done. Eddie being your only distraction from getting anything productive done. So you sat at the small table next to the kitchen as you worked, indulging in conversation with Wayne every now and then.

A few hours went by and you heard Eddie's van pulling into the dirt road, the loud music blasting spoiling any surprise of him arriving. Eddie walked in and he smiled as his eyes met yours. "Hey" you said softly and he wrapped is arms around your waist before hugging you. It felt so safe. Perfect. Eddie pulled himself away from you a bit before waving to Wayne and he got a soft nod in response. Eddie grabbed your hand and he pulled you to his room with him. You laid in the bed beside him, Eddie unable to keep his hands off you after not seeing you since lunch at school earlier in the day. You asked him about how his campaign went and he went on a full on theatrical explanation of the events that unfolded just a few hours previous.

Eddie hummed softly as he played with your hair, causing you to look up at him. Before you knew it, both of your lips were connected. Eddie's hands exploring your clothed body as the kiss got more heated. You soon pulled away for air and looked into Eddie's eyes. "E-Eddie- Wayne is still here.." you whispered and he laughed a little. "Mmm then maybe... We just have to be quiet" he said back before rolling on top of you. He leaned down to kiss your neck, your hands instinctively going into his hair. He laughed softly as one of his hands slid under your shirt, kneading your skin before you heard a knock at the door.

Before you could push Eddie off of you, Wayne had already entered and you looked anywhere but at him. He threw something to Eddie but you were too embarrassed to even see what it was. "I'm headed out. Keep that handy. I ain't tryin' to raise another kid now." he said before walking out.

You turned around and you could have screamed into the pillow. Soon turning around to meet Eddie's more than amused face, shocked to see him laughing. "See! I told you that was going to happen!" you yelled but in a hushed tone before punching Eddie's shoulder. "God you are so unbelievable!!" you whined before Eddie wrapped his arms around you, rendering you immobile. "Aww come now y/n. You know you love me." he said before peppering kisses all over your face. "You are going to be the death of me Eddie Munson." you said before leaning into his touch.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part ten - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: dubcon ; mention of noncon ; drinking

She’s putting the clean dishes away when she hears the front door open. 

She looks up to greet Michael, but it’s not him. It’s John.

She should be startled, but she’s not. Okay, maybe she jumps just a little bit, but there no way she’s going to admit it.

He clicks the door shut behind him. “Bad time?” He asks, because she’s frowning deeply at him while holding a glass cup.

“I- no. How did you get in here? Did you pick the lock? My landlord-“

“The door was unlocked,” John tells her honestly, almost sheepishly.

She would reprimand him for just barging into other people’s houses without knocking - or ask him why he thinks it’s okay to just walk into her apartment, but he looks sort of like an oversized beaten dog again, and he’s sporting big soft brown eyes that make her sad. And she doesn’t want to scare him away.

She puts the cup she’s holding into the cupboard and wipes her hands on her sweat pants.

He looks her up and down until she feels shy. She rubs her neck.

There are fading bruises in the shape of his hands marred into her buttery skin; on her upper arms and shoulders, and he guesses some on her back as well. Part of him enjoys these marks, because it claims her as his own. Another part hates that he hurt her.

Fighting against the part of himself that likes the bruises seems futile. He accepts and integrates it because he’s not willing to share her, even with another side of himself.

“I forgot to ask you the other night,” she starts casually. “How is your wound?”

He lifts up the side of his thin white sweater to show her the pink slash complete with edges almost formed shut and stitches dissolving into his skin.

She does look at the wound. She tries to only look at the wound, but they end up trailing lower, following a dark patchy line of hair into the seam of his blue jeans. His thin muscled stomach sports more bulk, now. She drags her disobedient eyes back up to his face and smiles.

He drops his shirt, leans on the counter, and grins down at her. He’s doesn’t remember a time that he’s seen someone who looks as fuckable as she does right now, with her untamed hair and faded grey t-shirt that puts her burgeoning nipples on display. He wants to pick her up and set her on the counter and do debauched things while her little bare feet curl against his thighs.

His cock swells.

“It looks really good,” she says, swallowing thick saliva. But they both know that the talk of his healing is now a filler conversation to keep him from eating her alive and her from begging him to do so.

He leans toward her. “Is your roommate home?”

She clutches the counter to keep herself on earth. “No, he’s at work. He doesn’t get home till’ ten.”

He comes toward her. “Good.”

She puts her hands up, and he stops.

“Wait,” she says. “What are you doing?”

His eyes get soft and dark. “Kissing you again.”

There she is pursing her plump, delicious lips together like she’s trying not to say something.

He advances, unwilling to give her time to decide, and pushes her hands down at her sides. She backs up, and he follows, trapping her against the counter with his body.

He leans down, lips close to hers, and talks in the space between their mouths. “Is that okay?” Really, he’s just asking it for pure self indulgence because he likes it when she talks and he hears how nervous he can make her.

“What?” Her voice sounds like she just inhaled helium.

His mouth tilts, amused by her inability to think. “If I kiss you?”

She blinks up at him. “What if I say no?”

He puts both his hands on the counter beside her and leans in, touching his nose to her own. He adores her. Helpless, bashful, scared, yet still able to defy him.

She stops breathing.

“You won’t,” he tells her.

And he’s so fucking right it hurts.

His lips just barely touch hers, irritating sensitive nerves. She squirms, presses back so that the light, teasing feeling is replaced with a deep pressure. He grins wider and opens his mouth for her timid tongue.

She has to breathe through her nose while they kiss, and it allows her to smell his deep, herbal cologne and spicy aftershave.

His mouth is expert, and the things he does with it echo in her lower belly and make her insides writhe.

He keeps his palms flat on the counter while he sucks her lower lip, pulling off her mouth in favor of the taste of her skin.

She giggles, pushes her head down to cover her neck and hide from his tickling facial hair.

He pulls away. “Ticklish?” He asks, wondering how a human can even look so adorable.

She shuffles under him, embarrassed, words escaping her. The smug look on his face should annoy her but instead it increases the tempo of her arousal. She pulses and burns, puts her hands back on his chest so she can hold onto something.

“Myagkaya devushka .” His voice notches deeper. Whatever he says resonates in her cunt.

“Is that Russian?” She asks, unable to look at him.

“Da.” He pushes his nose into her temple so he can smell the sweet shampoo she must use. “You like it.”

She is trying really hard not to fall into the unhinged maw of the monstrosity of love, but he’s pushing her inch by inch toward the gaping mouth and there’s nothing to hold onto to keep her from plunging in.

He kisses her head, leaving behind cool wetness. At the same time his soft mouth kisses her temple, his rough hands grab her hips and hoist her onto the counter.

She screeches, grabs onto his leather jacket for support. “John!”

She doesn’t like that, then, being picked up. When he carried her out of the prison doors, she protested vehemently, and now she’s fighting about it again, cheeks puffing out in anger like a little viper.

It’s really too bad that she doesn’t want to be held, because he wants to hold her and doesn’t give a damn what she says about it.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, knowing very well that he didn’t.

“No,” she replies quickly.

“Then why are you yelling?”

She glares at him. “You picked me up.”

“Elaborate?” He pushes her knees open wide with his body.

She tries to remember what they are talking about.

He pushes gently. “You yelled because I picked you up?”

“I don’t like it,” she tells him.

“Why?”

She opens her mouth, and he rests his fingers on her cheek. “The truth.”

She thinks for a minute, watches his face for some kind of sign that he’ll let her lie to him. Instead, the intense perception she sees there scares her into being honest.

She tells the stupid, childish truth.

“I’m heavy. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.” She has to look away when she admits it.

He laughs at her, and it fuels her shame.

She tries to pull away, but there’s nowhere to go while he’s crowding her in.

“Heavy?” He asks.

“I’m fat,” she clarifies.

He uses his thumb to tilt her sad face up so he can look at her.

“Honey,” he says, and she shouldn’t like it so much when the pet names leave his mouth.

John doesn’t know what to say to make this better, so he just tells her the truth about how he feels. “I like it.”

“You like it?” She asks.

“I like you. Everything about you. I like the fat.”

She stiffens.

He smooths his hands over her arms. “I like these soft, feminine features.” His thumbs run along the sides of her breasts and she shudders.

“You don’t have to - ”

“Stop.” He tells her, grabbing her upper arms and pulling her forward. “Why are you trying to push me away?” He doesn’t mean just physically.

“I’m not-“ her voice shakes because she’s scared of him now. Black, intense eyes bore into her and his grip makes her bruised muscles ache.

“You are. I’m not here because of the way you look. I like your body, but I like it because it belongs to you. That’s hard for you to hear because you’re so fucking stubborn and you think that you need to punish yourself for being desired.”

She realizes that she has never heard him swear until now. It’s unsettling, and gets the point across that he is upset. “Sorry,” she whispers, terrified of his anger because it means that he’s displeased with her.

“No-“ he sighs, softening. “Don’t be sorry. You can’t help the way you feel.”

Fuck this man for making her have emotions in front of him. Tears cloud her eyes and she hates herself so much for it. Where is her backbone? Where is her courage?

“I want to pick you up,” he tells her. “I’m not doing it for your benefit and you couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

She tries to wipe the fluid out of her eyes but he keeps her arms at her sides.

“But no matter what I say, you’re not going to believe me, because you are used to thinking like this.” He kisses her forehead. “So I’m not talking anymore.”

There it is, him basically telling her he doesn’t want to deal with her bullshit emotions, and really she knew it was going to happen so then why does she feel like her chest is being flayed open and her heart is being feasted on by rats.

She’s confused when his lips touch her again. He pins her arms while he licks into her mouth with ferocious purpose. She pulls away, shaking her head.

He chases her lips, bites at her cheek and jaw. His teeth catch pieces of her generous flesh and it’s nirvana melting  in his mouth. 

“John,” she hisses, cowering from the sting of his teeth. “I thought you said you were done with me.”

He pulls back, confused for a second, trying to remember what he said instead of how much he wants her in his mouth. He looks at her, and she looks back, jaw raised defiantly as if to tell him she doesn’t care whether he leaves or not. She’s like a Pomeranian, all bark and no bite. He resists the urge to smile at the comparison.

He forgot about this part of relationships where the other person has thoughts and wants and feelings. He’s gotten so used to being alone that human connection has become a seldom seen light in the dark. The people that he’s fucked are usually part of his world, and so they know how to separate physical connection from emotional.

But this isn’t like that. Not with her. He has to take a minute to remember that she’s the exact opposite of him. She wears her heart pinned to her collar, this lovely human. He can sway and seduce all that he wants, but these raw emotions trump him. He’s not sure what to do with her.

“I didn’t say that,” he tsks, smoothing her mussed hair. “I said I wasn’t talking anymore. I’d rather show you than tell you how beautiful you are.”

“How?”

How? He thinks about it. The original goal was to get every piece of her into his mouth and hands and make her so desperate that she forgets how she feels about herself. He has a vivid vision of her naked, flushed, panting, open, asking him sweetly if she can come. And his hand has done nothing to quell the fantasy.

Despite the protest of his furious cock, he changes his plans for her. “How do you want me to?” He asks.

Now she has to take time to be confused about someone asking her what she wants. Really, him being here, pressed against her, should be enough to shut her up and she feels bad that it isn’t. She realizes she’s being selfish by wanting him to actually like her and promises, from now on, to take what he gives and act normal about it instead of like a desperate idiot.

He watches her eyes harden but her lower lip quiver, which means she’s going to say something that she thinks he wants to hear and be sad about it later, and he’s not having it.

“Tell me the truth,” he murmurs. “I see right through you.”

She feels like a slab of raw beef thrown into a frying pan to sear alive under his knowing face. She is being truly honest when she voices her request, although it’s the safest option she can think of. “Can we cuddle?”

The wires in his brain try to synapse that word into action and fail. Has he ever cuddled someone? His sharp memory becomes blurry because he wants to say he has, but can’t find the piece of himself that experienced it.

“I can make us a drink, we can watch a movie. I got some Bourbon.”

His heart puffs, filling his chest like sticky cotton candy and melting sweet into his blood stream. He usually knows, cut and dry, what he wants. Her request is something so simple that he didn’t even realize he could have it.

Speechless, he helps her jump down from the counter. She goes to the fridge and gets a bottle of frosty Coke out. “Do you want it mixed?” She asks.

“No, thank you, just the bourbon.”

She pours him a glass of the liquor that he knows is expensive - a higher shelf item from the local spirit store - and then grabs a wine cooler for herself.

He tips his glass at her and takes a sip. “Not a fan of it?” He asks, referring to the liquid he’s holding.

“Not really,” she shrugs, and then immediately regrets telling him that because there lies the innuendo that she bought bourbon specifically for him in hopes that he’d visit again.

The gesture is not lost on him. He hums in understanding, almost cockily tipping his head at her in thanks.

“We can go to my room or the couch,” she says.

“If you’re comfortable with me in your bed, that’s where I want to be.” He tips the drink up to his mouth and she watches his big tongue lick the rim while he eyes her over it.

That’s enough of a distraction for her to blindly agree, and she can’t back out now, so she leads him to her room.

John doesn’t ask her why it’s so bland in here compared to the rest of the house. He doesn’t complain about her bed being on the floor as he sits awkwardly onto it with his arms on his knees.

“Are you going to take your coat and shoes off?” She asks him, shutting the door behind her and flipping the light switch on.

He stands again to take his jacket out to the coat rack, but she stops him. “No, it’s okay, let me.” She’s trying to be polite, but also there’s that little smirk on her lips that reads mischievous payback for his inability to let her do things for herself.

He narrows his eyes, and hands her his coat and shoes.

She brims with winner’s satisfaction while she leaves him to take his belongings out to their respectful places.

When she comes back in, he is waiting for her and coiled to pounce. She doesn’t even see him standing behind her until she shuts the door and turns around.

He grabs her, pulls her onto the bed as she squeals.

She thinks this actually might be her demise until his hands dig into her flesh with intent to… tickle her? This is the last thing she ever expected from him, and he’s a bit surprised about it himself.

He thought that strike three would have warranted something more brutal, but with the way she’s reacting he knows that his method of punishment is perfect.

Yes, he’s tickling her, and she’s screaming laughter like he is killing her.

And how can he resist his own bubbling laughter while she tries to shove him away and earns more brutal tickling for it.

He digs his hands into her ribs and soft tummy, delighted by the sounds she makes.

It’s not long before she’s begging him to stop and screeching that she can’t breathe. He takes mercy and stills, hand resting on her upper abdomen, pinning her down. She’s sweaty, panting, skin still twitching from his inhumanely fast fingers, starring up at him with wide, pleading eyes. 

He kisses her lightly. “Tickling can be a great torture method,” he says.

He loves the way her pupils dilate in fear and her hands cover her belly defensively. That alone makes him want to test how far he can push her until she breaks.

She squirms, grabbing his clawed hand. “John, please-“

He kisses her head. “Oh?”

She giggles nervously, pushing his fingers away from her tummy. “I’m sorry.”

“Of course you are.” He licks his teeth.

There’s a nervous tension in having him here in her bed and able to do whatever he wants with her. It’s almost too much. She has never felt so helpless before and it’s awful and wonderful. Wonderful to be wrapped into his arms and nuzzled, albeit a bit awkwardly at first. He’s so expert at everything that she was beginning to forget he was human, but it definitely shows in the way that he is coiling around her like a vice.

She wriggles out a little from under him, huffing and blowing hair off her face. “John, that’s tight.” She says this timidly, trying not to offend him.

He hums in apology, loosening up a bit so she can free her arms and expand her lungs.

“And I haven’t put the movie in yet.”

“Oh.” He lets her go. “Let me.”

She huffs but he gives her a warning look that promises he will tickle her until she’s crying, and she lets him dig into her movie stash while she leans on her elbow drinking her wine cooler.

“We could also watch TV,” she suggests.

He shrugs, “whatever you want.”

“Do you have any favorite genres?” She asks. “Favored films?”

“I’m more of a book person,” he tells her, “but I like romance and drama. And fantasy.”

She nods and smiles, not expecting that answer. “I think I have some of that. Any books you’ve read that you haven’t seen the movie of?”

He thinks for a moment. “Fairytales?” He digs through her Disney collection until he pulls out The Princess and the Frog. He flashes the case at her.

She agrees with his choice and then lets him try and get situated with her in his arms. It takes some wriggling and flipping of his heavy limbs, but eventually she places them both in a comfortable position where his jean seams and buttons aren’t digging into her and his arm is wrapped around her waist.

He’s thankful that her pillowy, temptress backside is pressed against his stomach instead of his dick because otherwise he would be convincing himself to hold her down and fuck the life out of her.

She yawns, stretches, boldly presses back and snuggles into his chest and his heart does that thing again where it melts and burns.

He pushes her hair off her cheek and rests his chin on top of her head.

“This is nice,” she tells him.

He hums in agreement.

They watch the movie in silence, occasionally shifting to get more comfortable and reach their drinks. She takes a few sips of his bourbon and it makes her warm and numb. She gets heavier in his arms and he loves how they mold into one another as she grows more comfortable.

Courage presses her lips into his own halfway through the movie. Lazy, wet and sloppy their mouths roll together. She gets on her back and he teases her mouth with soft touches while she whines.

His bitter spit coats her lips, the taste and smell of him all consuming while the movie plays forgotten.

He palms her left breast through her thin shirt, thumb rolling her nipple erect. She tries to quiet her moans.

Eventually, he gets her shirt rolled up just above her red, abused little peaks despite weak protests from her bothersome hands that he waves away like gnats, and she’s grinding her hips into air while he sucks and licks one into his slippery, warm, talented mouth.

He flicks and pinches one nipple while laving the other, then switches abruptly to get her dizzy and panting.

She grips the bed sheets while he works her flesh sore, bare toes clenching tight against his denim calves.

He has mercy and pushes his thigh between her legs, angling so that she can get herself off on the strong muscle of it.

She ruts frantically, wetting through her panties and sweats and leaving a damp spot on his jeans.

“Can you cum like that?” He asks her, tickling at the sensitive underside of her tits and pressing his denim harder against her pussy.

“Oh- yeah.” Her voice is high and tight just like her impending climax. 

“Yeah you can,” he agrees, talking her through a slow, well deserved orgasm in hushed baritone. Sinful words sloshed together in language different from her own.

Her hips fall limp and sink into the bed. She feels embarrassed about her loud breathing and bare skin in post-coital clarity.

“I like these,” he tells her, rubbing her chest.

She groans, more sensitive from the orgasm, grabs his wrist to make his heavy touch softer.

It takes her a moment to compose herself before she wants to return the favor. Her timid fingers hook into his belt and start fussing with the clasps. She sits up a bit and her shirt falls over her chest.

He frowns, stalls her. “Take your shirt off.”

She shuffles shy under his heady gaze, and he pulls her a little toward his body by the hem of her shirt. “Off,” he says, tugging.

She does as he asks, trying to cover herself without acting like she’s trying to cover herself. He pushes her arms to her sides and admires the bulbs tipped with dusky points.

She can’t look at him while he examines that intimate part of her body which betrays her by puckering and extending for his viewing entertainment.

His smile is soft and barely there. “Continue.”

Grateful for the distraction, she gets her hands on his belt again and undoes it the rest of the way. He imposes by rubbing her poor nipples raw.

She growls at him, fumbling. “I’m trying.”

The look in his face makes it apparent that he doesn’t care at all. He wets both pads of his thumbs with his tongue and slips against her sharp points. “Continue,” he insists again, fingers hard on her skin.

She tries to keep herself steady but fails, shakes violently and whines while she tugs on his zipper.

He hears the front door open before she does, but he cares much less. When the roommate alerts her with a bemused, obviously drunk voice -  “leather jacket?” - John puts his life on contract.

She’s pulling away and he’s dragging her back.

“John,” she whispers, “Michael is home.”

If cocks could talk, his would be convincing him to kill Michael.

He makes that low, displeased growling sound again.

“Men sneakers,” Michael murmurs, voice carrying through the paper mache walls.

She makes pleading eyes at him while he strangles his self control and tries to reason with the beast that she’ll never trust him again if he doesn’t listen to her now.

Take what he wants, whether she likes it or not, break her into pieces and affirm her fears, or be a safe space for her to feel soft and vulnerable in and earn her trust. This is the hardest shit he’s ever gone through and he’s dealt with a lot of difficult things.

Fight the Baba Yaga, and the Baba Yaga wins eventually. Violently. Expertly. Maximum casualties. Every crime faction in New York knows that.

John ends up bargaining with himself again, because that’s what she’s reduced him to and that’s what he has to do so he doesn’t murder her intrusive roommate and then hunt her down and kidnap her and keep her all to himself.

He grinds his jaw to help his hands release their bruising grip on her body, not hating the idea of keeping her directly under his thumb for the rest of her life.

He pushes a rogue hair loc behind her ear instead of forcing her to swallow his cock until she cracks her jaw, and asks: “can you get my things?”

She suddenly looks very disappointed. “No, you can stay,” she says, words hurried and imminent. “Michael’s nice, and he’s a people person. I want you to stay.”

She’s digging a very deep grave and she doesn’t even know it. He rests his cupped palm onto her soft, cold cheek.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says softly.

Her face drops, but she tries to look strong. It doesn’t work at all.

Michael is instantly on her case when she exits her room, firing excited questions about the sexy brown leather jacket and black, expensive tennis shoes in his living room.

She deflects as best as she can: “Yes, the old friend.” “Yes, he’s here.” “No, he’s very shy, sorry Michael.” “Yes, he’s leaving.” “No, not because of you.”

Michael plops onto the couch, alcohol fueling his mischievous personality as he grins at her. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just watch him leave.”

She sighs and walks into her bedroom with John’s things. He’s standing, ready to take them and kiss her on the head for the favor.

She tries her hardest not to beg him to stay, and ends up triumphant over her own desperation. For now.

“He’s going to probably be weird when you walk out,” she says. “He’s wild like that.”

“I don’t think he’ll have to worry about it,” John says, hiking open her bedroom window, letting cool air in to pebble goosebumps on her skin.

She tries to reach for him to stop his reckless decision, but he’s already turned into snowflakes and bitter wind by the time she can get her hand out the window. She searches out into the dark night, looks at the fire staircase around fifty times to see if he’s there, wonders if he really is just a figment of her imagination with how fast he always vanishes.

[the-hat0]

Angel

Continuation of my first story.

Description: the Moon knight system have a sweet girlfriend who is so forgiving and lover that she over looks at some of the toxic and crazy things they do.

Warning ⚠️ :Smut, Violence (Murder), Stalking, Kidnapping, and Manipulation. The leg cuff and blood, almost sexual assault (Tell me if I didn't put any more warnings that were needed)

Moonboys x F!reader

NO MINORS PAST THIS POINT.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Y/n L/n was a gift that the great heavens bestowed upon Steven Grant of the gift shop and Marc Spector as well.

You two have been dating for six months now which was odd, to say the least. You found out about them stalking you including breaking into your home and stealing some items but in the name of love you forgave both of them. Some people would say you should run to the hills but you stayed with them...hell even moved in with the three of them.

One month

The first month was a breeze to ease into. Steven showered you with gifts, love, and sex.

Of course, you accepted all these things including his not-so-great gifts.

Steven keeps up with your ovulation, periods, and even when your sex drive is the highest. As well as diet, what you like to eat and don't like, what you need and what you don't need to eat but never restricts you from eating.

He may be deranged but not cruel.

He still keeps the shrine around. Sometimes you give him items for your shrine but he loves it so, of course, you indulge the sweet boy. Also including the habit of smelling you, his nose is in every crevice of your body. He reminds you of a golden retriever who shoves its nose into your crotch.

He smells your hair, clothes, panties even your neck and your armpits including your pussy.

You walk up to the calendar and eye the dates steven has circled.

"Steven, why are these specific dates on the calendar marked? Are you planning something or maybe marc is?" You beam as you look at your boyfriend. He looks up from his book on the french language that he's been practicing for months.

"Oh." is all he says when he looks at the calendar you now have in your hand. You furrow your brow in disappointment hoping for a better response. "Then what are they for?" You ask. "Well...darling they're your ovulation cycle..and um..", he says dryly " also when your sex drive is the highest".

He watches as your smile drops before your lips even form what you want to say. Steven is on the floor and is already at your knees, he gives you his famous puppy dog eyes. "I-I'm so sorry darling. I know it's odd but I just-". He starts to beg but you cut him off by placing your finger on his lips. "No no, it's an okay baby. I guess...I should look on the bright side. At least I'll know when my periods coming, I suppose."You tell steven sweetly as you bend down a little and kiss his lips.

"Right, darling," Steven says with a small smile. "Also today is one of your days. Your sex drive should be a little high today." Steven says as he guides his hand up your legs. Your breathing softly intensifies as he strokes your legs. Then gently goes all the way up to your shorts.

Isn't love so weird? Y/n would accept anything your dear sweet Steven threw at you.

Second month later

Steven and You are like two pees in a pod. Simply perfect each other, except you have yet to fight your second bosses.

When am I gonna talk to her again? You got the fucking date cause of me, Steven. So why have I not been able to speak to her again?

You see Marc and Steven didn't have a good relationship ever since you met him the first time you slept with Steven for the first time. You also slept with marc. I mean you wouldn't sleep with a man on his knee begging for forgiveness?

"You are not bloody meeting her, Marc. After what you did, why should I? I found her with bruises from that night. You slept with my girlfriend and now you wanna meet her again? Mate" Steven shouted at the mirror. Steven huffed out as he collected his things for you and his date.

You owe me this, didn't I get you that info on her? I got you two together, you owe me.

After hearing out Marc. Steven sighed in annoyance. "Fine...." Steven said to the mirror.

"Thanks," Marc said back to the mirror.

Marc looks at his phone to see what steven planned. To Marc's disdain, it was a museum date.

You stared at the exhibits that steven had given you a tour of before. You smiled at the memories you two shared, then you felt two arms snake around your waist.

"Babygirl, do remember me?" An American voice says it hugs you from behind. You gasp and quickly get out his hold, "Marc!" You say as you hug him. "Steven let you see me again?" You ask as you look up at his face.

"Yeah, it was a little difficult but I got him to agree to see you again, baby girl." He smirks at you making you smile at him before pecking his chin. "Let's get out of here." He says while untangling the hug and grabbing your hand. He guides you out of the building and soon you find yourself sitting on the other side of a restaurant table.

Marc's legs are spread out in the chair and he stares at you with smirk. "What are we doing here?" You shyly ask him as you try not to meet your gaze. "Can't I have a date with a pretty lady?" Marc says while fiddles with your fingers. You blush a little at his comment and tuck your hand behind your ear. "Wanna get out of here?" He asks you as he rubs your fingers.

"Yes."

You rock into Marc as he holds your hips. You moan out as you feel him hit your sweet spot. You clench around him and let your orgasm softly intensify. Feeling it expand throughout your body. This is the third one marc has gotten out of you but hey you're not complaining.

You two couldn't eagerly wait to get back to the apartment and fuck. This man was shoving his tongue down your mouth as you two entered the apartment and quickly undressing while you undressed him. That's how much sexual tension he built up just for you.

You two sit there in the same position letting your orgasm pass so that Marc can get another one out of you. "Round Four, baby". He says while you snap your hips into his like a puzzle. You moan out softly as you feel his dick hit that sweet spot that makes your legs tremble a little.

Marc makes light hickies on your neck as he thrust into you. You give him small moans as the gentle ones and when he quickens his pace to get the fourth one out, you sputter out words conjoined together like don'tstopdon'tstop or pleasegofasterplease. He even gets a cry out of your sweet lips.

After all of, your lovemaking is done. He cleans you thoroughly and gives you kisses that he peppers all over your body.

7:30 am is what reads on Marc's watch. You quickly get dressed and head out to get some breakfast for you and your sleeping beauty still in the bed, naked as the day he was born.

You walk out of the apartment building and try to find yourself the nearest coffee shop. Two whole hours pass, and you push the key through the door that steven so graciously gifted you very early into your relationship.

Only to hear, Marc yelling at someone. You pause before you unlock the door to hear the one-sided conversation.

"Think steven, think. Where would she have gone? Where are her favorite places? It's still early so breakfast is still being served." Marc says to the mirror as he runs his fingers through his hair in a distressing way.

I'm thinking, mate. Just give me a minute, OH! Maybe that one place...something called cuppaT. It's not far from here, and I'm sure she'll be there...

Steven said with uncertainty as he looked at Marc who look like a nervous wreck.

"Okay. Let's start there." He said as he grabbed his wallet and apartment keys.

You open the door to find him frantically gathering the stuff. He immediately looks at you and the stress and panic wash from his face as he instantly pulls you into a hug. He nuzzles into your neck smelling your perfume to placate himself.

His shoulder slumps and he feels meek in your arms. You recognize this familiar person. "Where were you, darling? You gave marc a scare. Naughty girl" He says while he nips at your neck lightly. "I was at a small bakery nearby. I got us some breakfast, baby". You say as you pull away from the hug and set down your items and purse. Now his body feels more firm like he's a wall, "now baby girl, for giving me a scare like that I have to punish you but give me your phone first". Marc says as he hugs you from behind. You reach for your purse and zip the pouch to hand Marc your phone.

He releases you from the hug and fiddles with your phone then hands it back to you. You don't give it a second thought and just set it down on the table. Marc grabs the breakfast and your hand guides you to bed.

He is sweet to you before he ravishes you and destroys your spirit in bed as punishment for not leaving a note.

You have passed the second boss and contributed to his obsession. Marc is different from steven, Steven is clingy and lovesick. He needs to know everything about you and treat you like a goddess. He needs your attention, needs your constant validation and of course, you give it to him.

Now Marc likes to keep on a pedestal and have you under his total watch. His unrequited gifts include Stalking, tracking, and more stalking. Just kidding, he knows your triggers, gestures, ticks, habits, and the way you talk. The way your eyes light at something, the way you look at things that you don't like, or when you feel uneasy, uncomfortable, and unsafe.

He sometimes feels like a rock or better yet a wall and you are a none confrontational person who is sweet as pie. You need marc or at least that's how delusional he thinks. He continues the stalking. Need to know where you are at all times like a mosquito bite that itches. It festers and festers so he tracks you and so God help him if he doesn't know where you are.

"Baby girl, if you go somewhere and don't tell me. I'll know, so don't test your limits. Konshu will tell me" Marc says softly as he slowly slips off your panties. He gently rubs his thumb on your clit making you cry out. Poor you being punished by both steven and marc through overstimulation and edging. You beg for marc or steven, as your lovers make you suffer.

Two months later

By now you are completely use to both Marc and Steven's habits and obsession.

Marc told you about Konshu..who he was, what he was and his significance in his life. He briefly talks about Jake but never enough to where you know him well.

That is Steven's job, he word vomits about everything that he's gone through with Marc and Jake. He's told you about Jake more than Marc which has sparked curiosity in you to meet your final boss.

These two months had been very eventful

Here you were sitting on the bus ramp waiting for Steven to get off from his shift. It was just you and another man but you payed not attention to him. "Are you here all by yourself?" He ask as concern is painted on his face.

"Oh yeah..but my boyfriend's gonna be here soon". You innocently say as you smile at him. Then your phone begins to ring. You quickly pick it up and Steven voice booms through the phone.

Hey darling, I'm not gonna get out tonight. So just call a cab, don't walk home. Love you

You sigh as you hang up and gather your stuff together.

I know he tracks my phone but I'm sure it'll be fine..it's just one time.

You begin your journey back home and get yourself far enough from the museum. You slowly recognize the streets he lives on and go through a alley way for a shortcut.

You start noticing footsteps behind you. Then someone grabs you and shoves you against the wall, it's the "concerned" man from earlier. He puts his hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

"Shh...it's okay...it's gonna be alright. You're a real cutie, lady". He says with his hot breath against your ear. Tears well up in your eyes as his hand snakes up your skirt. Then suddenly a figure in white swoops down the alleyway and with one swipe he slashes the man's throat with a moonshaped blade.

You stand there frozen as the blood splatters on your face. You are still trying to process what just happened. "H-he-", you try to say but your face scrunchs up and tears spill down your face. You throw yourself into Jake's arms and he holds you. He soothes you by rubbing your back then he picks you up bridal style. He takes you into the apartment and sets you down on the bed as you sob into his shirt.

About two weeks pass over the incident. You've been put on house arrest by Marc who while trying to gave a intimate moment with noticed the stuttering getting worse which amplified the his anxiety and panic.

"Baby, I don't like how you speak right now. You're still scared and I'm sorry I wasn't faster",Marc softly says as he puts the cuff around your leg "Soon there will be a longer one coming in so you can walk around the house. This is only for a month and then I'll take it off, babygirl".

He indeed did buy a longer sleeping cuff and when Steven would get home he would take if off or if Marc was home, he would. Him and Jake rotated turn on taking care of you. "Pequeño what do you want to eat? Takeout? Or make you something?" Jake softly whispers in you ear as you squirm in his lap. "Whatever is fine.." You say as Jake starts to take off the white satin lingerie set he bought you.

You see, he treats you like a sugarbaby. Buys you expensive things, spoils you, showers you in adoration and love.

He takes off the dress part of the set. Throwing it to the ground then works on your panties that he had custom made. The entire set was customized actually, just be soft and airy for you to sleep in. Including the added detail of his symbol on the panties. He take them off only leaving in the thigh highs that have the moonknight symbol as well.

"Jake" You softly moan out as he enters you. He holds you legs and begins to thrust into you. His thrust start a standard slow pace but due to your wetness. He growls in your ear and starts go at faster pace. The chair makes a squeaking noise as it hits the table. You clench around him as he hits your sweet spot continously. Feeling your orgasm build up again. You let your body reach it high and clench around him tightly making Jake go a little bit a rough pace. One sharp snap of his hips and his dick paints you walls with his cum.

But he doesn't stop.

"Baby, It's my turn now".

Marc sets you body on the bed. He put your legs over his shoulder and starts to enter your cunt again. Then with the full force of his hips, he thrust into you all the way. He pounds into your cunt as you cry out at the sensations. It good in the way that it hits everything perfectly and you body shudders at each delicious thrust that come through your body.

Your legs tremble as his thrust and start to clench around him as your next orgasm leads your way. Your toes curls and you let out a cry as you feel your release unravel. Marc cums inside of you and you feel his familiar seed paint your walls again.

He does his usual routine and cleans you up and dresses you again in one of his shirts. A few minutes later, he calls for a pizza delivery and BAM! You two have nice cozy dinner.

Oh if you're wondering about your job. The boys got you covered, of course they paid people off and made up excuses about you absences.

All three of them need you in some way. To You, Stevan is like crazed fan, Marc is a obsessed man and Jake is possessive over you but this has not ever let your love for the three of them go away.

Such as the time he almost fought someone for simply touching you.

"Hey , watch who you touch next time." An angry Jake said as he sqaured up to a guy who started drunkenly flirting with you. He had put his hand on your shoulder and Jake has just come back from the bathroom. Now you were in between the two men, whining for Jake for to calm down and just take you home. He abliged and he fucked you for two hours thinking that was enough to get rid of that man's nasty touch.

"JAKE!" You cried out as his hips sharply shaped into yours. This was the fourth orgasm he has pulled out your body in those two hours.

"pequeño, no te preocupes que el toque del hombre se haya ido." Jake says in your ear so seductive. You pull him back into your embrace and whisper in his ear, "f-fuck me again, baby".

That's his que to ruin you again and so he does.

That's all for tonight, folks.

[violetsaffron5]

Infinity

| Ao3 | Discord 18+ | Series Masterlist | Taglist | Chapter 9 |

8 | Mandrills

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Summary:

Spending some quality time with Geto

words: 4031

It’s not even been a week and you find yourself in yet another bar. This one is quieter, classier than the last. The lights are dim and the music playing is low, just loud enough to hear amidst the conversation happening between friends and lovers.

You’re sitting at the bar sipping on your cocktail, looking over the room, watching as couples laugh and lean into one another, trying to make out what’s being said from the low rumble filling the small space.

You’re wearing a floor length black Versace dress paired with a dainty diamond necklace; this ensemble costs more than a year’s rent. It’s certainly not what you expected to be doing or wearing on a Thursday night.

No, tonight you planned on staying in after having spent the last few nights hanging out with Shoko and Satoru. Rest and relaxation. You were looking forward to it.

That is until Geto showed up at your door unannounced, dress bag and shoes in hand telling you to get changed and you two were going out for some quality time. Whatever that means. 

So, you’re here. Sitting awkwardly next to the man in question who has his raven hair pulled all the way back into a neat bun, a suit you’re sure is just as expensive as your dress, drinking his own cocktail.

“So… what are we doing here?” Geto wouldn’t say where you were going, and you’re not familiar enough with Tokyo to even know if you’re still in the city, though you’d venture to guess probably not since it took an hour to get to this location.

“Just wanted to have a little chat among other things.”

“Ok, well, I’m here,” you chuckle awkwardly, “not sure why we couldn’t have hung out at my place or even at the -”

“Do you think you can be monogamous with your… abilities?” Suguru asks, swirling the dark liquor in his glass around the large round ice cube.

You’re taken back by his sudden line of questioning. This is something you would expect Shoko or Utahime to ask, but not Geto. He’s always been kind, albeit fairly quiet when you’re around.

“Uhh, yeah. I think so. I mean, it hasn’t really been a problem so far.”

Sure there have been wants, urges, wondering how someone’s hands would feel on your body when you go out, but it hasn’t been anything more than that. Satoru has helped keep your hunger in check which helps greatly minimize these desires, keeps things less overwhelming.

“Mm. Good point,” he begins, side eyeing you, “when Satoru tells you he’s meeting with the higher ups, he’s really meeting with other women to hookup. The higher ups only meet a few times a year or when anything interesting comes up. Like you.”

You shake your head and blink several times, trying to take in everything he just told you. “Um. Okay, thanks… I guess.” Clenching your jaw, you take another sip of your drink, the weight of what Suguru just said causing a heavy lump to form in the center of your chest. 

“Awe, don’t be sad.” He coos after a few moments, giving a weak smile, “there was never a chance he was going to settle down, let alone with someone who’s barely even human.”

“I’m not sad,” you defend, “I’m just…”

Honestly, you’re not sure. Maybe it’s all true and you’ve been reading a little too much into what’s been going on between you and Satoru. He’s flirty, “nice to everyone,” as Shoko put it once. It’s not like you’re expecting a commitment from him, at the end of the day, he is just helping you out, but honesty would be nice.

“You’ll never be more than a good fuck. That’s just how he operates.” You’re not looking at Suguru, but you can hear a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Ok, Geto. I got it. Thanks.” You snap at him.

A lot of it is mindless self-indulgent sex; Satoru getting the rush of adrenaline when you siphon his energy, you being able to feed without waking up next to a cold body. It’s addicting, he’s addicting - the endless amounts of stamina on nights that never seem to end, and you don’t want them to; the way his body feels pressed against your own as he’s pounding into you so hard you’re convinced he’s trying to split you in half, and how after he’s kissing you tenderly, sweetly, afterward telling you how beautiful you look, how amazing you are.

There’s also an undeniable chemistry shared between the two of you. Sure, he might not tell you the ins and outs of his life, but you do know he’s creative, reliable, makes you laugh more than you ever have before, annoys you more than anyone ever has before. But you don’t mind, not really.

Geto isn’t giving you a lot of time to dwell on it before he’s standing, motioning for you to take his arm. You give a weak smile, placing your drink on the counter, looping your arm through his wondering where you’re off to now.

He leads you down a hall you’re sure you’re not allowed to be in, taking you down a flight of stairs to a basement. The hall is dark, dingy and dirty, very different from the pristine and clean environment you were just in.

“We’re here for a mission,” Geto says quietly before reaching the bottom of the stairs. “Follow my lead.”

“What is the largest monkey in the world?” A voice asks from behind a closed door, and you’re taken aback by the odd line of questioning presented to you, yet again.

“Mandrills.” Geto replies easily through an eyeroll, like he doesn’t quite believe that answer.

The door clicks, having been unlocked before opening, allowing the two of you in, down another dimly lit corridor. 

“If we’re on a mission, why are we in such expensive clothes? I mean, won’t this get ruined?”

Suguru stops, just short of another door at the end of the hall, turning to face you. “There’s a dress code for places like this. I can’t have you coming in here wearing,” he stops to look you up and down, a scowl on his face, “what you normally wear.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You seethe, wondering just what kind of mission this could be and what it entails, and why he’s choosing to be such a dick to you tonight.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he opens the door, motioning for you to enter before him. And whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this.

“Are we… playing poker?” You ask incredulously.

“You are playing blackjack, and you need to win so I have a shot at collecting a cursed tool.” He’s whispering, keeping his voice down so the others around don’t hear as the two of you walk around between the tables that had been set up for tonight.

You’re not replying to him, taking in the words he’s said but not really understanding why you have to play a part in this little mission. 

Each table is set up with a dealer, getting the tables ready for guests to sit at, all wearing tuxes. The other guests, you presume, are all dressed to the nines - just as you are - showcasing their wealth by flaunting top of the line name brand attire and jewelry. The room is small, and even though there are less people down here than upstairs, it sounds just as loud, the low murmur of everyone talking at one time.

Geto sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose, stopping in a little vacant section of the room, “the pet,” you raise an eyebrow as he points to you, “will be playing the first round. If the pet wins, then their master gets to move onto the second round. We both need to win in order to get our hands on the cursed tool.”

“So, it’s some sort of fucked up blackmarket.”

“No cursed energy or abilities allowed either, so you need to be discreet. No pulling the shit you did at the club when Satoru and Nanami were there and making it obvious.”

A man walks over, tall, skinny, in a suit that doesn’t look like anything special, but likely costs more than your dress and asks for your name. He gives a kind smile, offering his hand to lead you to the table you’re set to play the game at.

“One more thing,” Suguru stops you before you can take the man's hand and walk away, “the higher ups have asked for this mission to remain… quiet. So no speaking about it with anyone.” You nod your head before pursing your lips.

As you walk away you could swear you heard Geto quietly say, “and make sure you win. Satoru would kill me if you get sold off.” You furrow your brows turning back to the raven haired man mouthing “what the fuck?” before he shrugs and walks off, leaving you to your own devices.

You’re seated between two men, who are also set to play against you. You give them a warm smile and wave, as they smile back to you. They seem nice enough. It’s just a game of blackjack afterall, simple, easy.

One where people are sold off at the end. No big deal at all.

The cards are shuffled in front of you as the dealer explains that only one of you will be the winner, but of course there’s the possibility of all three of you losing, and in that case nobody will move forward into the next round. And just for them to add a little curve and anxiety to the mix, the only way to lose is to go over 21, anyone under will remain in the game until either everyone has gone over or a clear winner has been indicated.

There’s not much you can do here in terms of your abilities, you tried to learn to count cards when you were younger, living on your own, but you never quite got the hang of it, so you’re really truly banking on good luck.

“So, uh, what’s the prize tonight?” You ask curiously since Geto didn’t really give too much information.

Your opponents give a quizzical look before one of them says, “wow, you haven’t been told much, have you?”

You shake your head, it’s the truth, you’re working off minimal details, “no. We play poker at home, and I’m pretty good at it. He thought I’d be beneficial with his… endeavors tonight.”  A lie, but they don’t need to know that.

“It’s a three piece staff, called Playful Cloud.” You nod your head, never heard of it, but it must be special if the higher ups are looking to add it to the schools collection.

The dealer has laid out all the cards, the man to your right passes his turn. You have 15 and take the risk to hit, as does the man to your left. After the additional cards have been dealt, you’re at 18, and choose to pass, not wanting to risk going over, while the man to your left hits again.

After those cards have been dealt, everyone shows their hand; the dealer is at 22, the man on the left is at 24, to the right, 20, and you’re at 18. One person out, a slight weight has been lifted. Just you and the other man remaining now.

Returning your cards, the dealer shuffles again before passing two to each of you once again. You’re only at 5, so you hit again, the man to your right does the same. This happens for a few more turns, each of the card numbers you’re getting are low, bringing your current total to 12.

Humming to yourself, you decide to try something, to see if you can figure out where he stands. Trailing a finger on the fabric of the suit the man next to you is wearing, feeling the soft, smooth silky fabric under your index finger, and leaning in just slightly closer to him.

“You know,” your voice is slow, sultry, “I really do love a man in a suit.”

He side-eyes you with a grin, just before your finger touches the skin of his neck he answers, “me too,” and gives a wink. You smile back, a slight pout on your lips before returning to your seat normally, asking the dealer to hit again. You could attempt to use your powers on him, but it’s best to not draw attention, like Geto pointed out earlier, so you leave it for now.

Neither the dealer nor your opponent take a card this time; you’re not entirely sure you want to flip over the card on the table you were just given, a knot forming in your stomach. You don’t look at the card, too nervous about the way this could end - you’ll just have to believe in the heart of the cards, or whatever the saying is.

You nod and everyone reveals their hands; 18, 23, 27.

You sigh a breath of relief, not really sure if what Suguru said was true, that you’d be sold off, but you sure as hell didn’t want to fuck around and find out when you’re attending a very illegal underground blackjack game as is. You stand on shaky legs, clenching and unclenching your fists, just now noticing how sweaty they had gotten during that encounter, how nervous you were, especially at the end.

The two men you were playing with tell you congratulations and stay behind, you don’t look back. You don’t want to even think about the consequences of them losing.

You’re led to a locker room where Suguru stands shirtless, only in his black dress pants, removing the belt around his waist. He doesn’t look up when you walk in, barely acknowledges your presence.

You look him over, shoulders slightly more muscular and broad than Satoru’s, with a dragon tattoo covering his back with the tail ending at the wrist of his right hand. It’s very well done, traditional, black and white aside from the purple eyes. He’s just as toned and defined as Satoru, just as attractive. You clear your throat and swallow thickly in an attempt to distract yourself.

“Are the “pets” really going to be sold, or were you just saying that?” You take a seat at the bench across from him, crossing your legs and folding your arms over your chest, watching as he neatly folds his shirt and rolls his belt before placing them inside one of the lockers.

“Not sure. It’s what I heard. Thought it might give you a little push to win.”

He’s sitting on the bench across from you, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck as he explains what’s going to happen next. He’s going to be bare-knuckle fighting in cage matches, this could go on all night but he needs you to manipulate the rounds, get him in sooner, less fights. And when it’s all said and done, you need to leave quickly before your abilities wear off and anyone suspects the two of you of foul play. At least not before he gets the weapon in his hands.

He gives you a gentle smile, one you’ve seen too many times from him. And all the sudden it looks more fake than it ever has before. Suguru has been incredibly hot and cold to you tonight, more than you’ve ever seen and you’re wondering if he’s insane. Satoru can be bad, going from jovial to serious in the blink of an eye but this is beyond that. This is something else.

You hum, giving a weak smile - how are you supposed to respond to something like aside from being pissed off that he lied to you. That this whole night has been nothing but a lie.

It doesn’t matter, because you’re following him out of the small locker room into another equally small room with a wire cage set up in the middle. The space is filled to the brim with people, more than you’ve seen in any bar or club you’ve ever been to. It’s louder in here, people with drinks in their hands, being rowdy, boisterous laughter and yelling coming from all directions.

Suguru points in the general direction of where you’ll find the person in charge of organizing the bouts - you have a job to do, so you do your best to push down all the stress and anxiety you were just feeling a moment prior, pushing and squeezing your way past people until you reach your destination.

There’s a lone man sitting at a table organizing several names in front of him, there’s likely a method to his madness - luckily for you, he’s doing it rather old school, with a whiteboard that has brackets drawn onto it, and he’ll tape the names in each space to show everyone’s position and who they’ll be fighting next.

From the distance you’re at, you can barely make out Suguru’s name on his list, towards the bottom, likely because the two of you just showed up to compete not that long ago.

“Hi,” you’re yelling, making your presence known in the sea of people you’re in. He turns to you, looking you quickly up and down, returning the smile before going to place some of the names on the board.

“What’s your name?” You’re watching as he adds the names to each of the brackets, Suguru indeed being one of the last, with several rounds set to go before him.

The man answers, you’re not really listening, watching from the corner of your eye as he takes a seat. With his back turned, you grab Suguru’s name, and the second name from the second set of brackets and switch them quickly, trying not to make what you just did totally obvious to anyone.

He doesn’t seem to notice, instead you sit next to him as he makes small talk, asks if you’ve been here before, done anything like this in the past. All of your answers are lies, trying to make yourself seem as seasoned as possible.

It doesn’t take long for the first round to get started. It’s two men, both you’re unfamiliar with, in the cage with a referee. When they start, you opt to not pay much attention to them, after all, you’ve seen people throw plenty of punches over the last few months, thrown plenty yourself when training and fighting curses.

You continue to talk to the man, doing your best to keep his attention on you. It doesn’t take a lot, he’s leaning into you, answering your silly little questions, telling you the ins and outs of his job.

And then it’s Suguru’s turn. You do watch this fight, having never seen him in action before. He stands tall, taller than his opponent but only by a few inches, more muscular too. If he wasn’t being such an ass tonight, you’d say he looks like an angel with the way the dim light is cascading over his muscles, highlighting his features in just the right way, showing all the sharp edges.

Suguru’s fist immediately cracks the jaw of his opponent - you could hear it as it happened, even over the crowd. They’re both throwing punches, but Suguru is easily able to dodge, bouncing from toe to toe as he absolutely pummels his opponent into the floor. For a brief second, you’re not even sure his opponent is even alive until someone else is helping him stand, removing him from the cage as Suguru watches with a cat-like grin that matches his eyes.

The matches all go quickly, you’re laughing with the man who is organizing the names, channeling your energy into him, persuading where to put names.

He listens, leaning into your touch every time you make contact with him. Your annoyance at Suguru and the mission grows more and more each round as you keep using your powers on the poor soul sitting next to you, more and more annoyed with each time he leans over, hands on your thigh trying to make a move. You place a finger to his lips each time, telling him “not now,” hoping he doesn’t realize that time will never come.

It’s the final round, finally. The matches went by quickly, though it still took several hours. You’ve heard enough bones crunching, skulls being knocked into the mat, teeth shatter, blood and spit spilling everywhere to be ready to call it a night.

Suguru is in the ring again, laughing like a maniac as he dips and dodges his opponent’s punches and kicks. He’s received several across his body and to his face during his matches, his lip bloodied and jaw swollen. He’ll need to go see Shoko no doubt in order to heal up.

You briefly wonder what kinds of questions she would ask about his wounds, or if these are something she’s used to seeing him with.

You’re not left wondering for long, because you hear the referee blow his whistle, yelling something about “illegal” moves while pulling the two men off of each other. Watching intently, it appears the referee is conferring with several others, likely trying to decide how to call the match.

You’re not sure what this was called for, but it was very likely because of Suguru, judging by the smug grin he has plastered on his face as he eyes you walking over to the cage, near the referee waiting for him to finish his current conversation.

When he’s done, you’re reaching your hand into the cage, caressing the ankle of the referee before he has a chance to make the call, he looks down to you, furrowed eyebrows, curious as to what you could want. Using your index finger, you motion for him to bend down, and of course he does, you’ve been using your energy on him from the moment you touched him.

“I think Suguru won this round, don’t you think so too?” Your voice is hardly a whisper, breath caressing the shell of his ear. He looks to you, eyes wide and nods his head as you bite your lip and whisper a barely audible “yeah.”

The man stands, moving towards the center of the ring where Suguru and his opponent stand bloodied, waiting on the results of the match.

“And the winner is… Suguru!” The crowd has mixed emotions, where half of them seem to erupt in cheers, the other half seem to be booing at the announcement. 

You don’t wait around to see Suguru’s reactions, you’ve turned on your heel, looking to make a quick getaway before a certain hot and horny man comes to find you, either pissed you used your abilities when it was against the rules or looking to have a good time that you’re really not all that interested in.

You leave, getting in the nearest cab you could find. Fuck Geto, fuck this mission. He can do all of the damn paperwork, especially if it’s as secretive as he claims it needs to stay.

Instead, you’re dialing Satoru’s number, annoyed and angry at Suguru for putting you in these positions tonight. You don’t expect Satoru to do anything about it - it’s already happened, but you need to vent and maybe even relieve some stress - something Satoru is very good at helping you accomplish, but he doesn’t answer. As soon as you hang up the call, a text comes through.

Satoru: Can’t talk, about to meet with the higher ups

A wry chuckle leaves your lips after reading his message. It’s well past midnight, there’s no way those old fuckers are meeting at this time of night.

Taking a deep breath you lay your head on the back of the seat as the driver takes you home. You let your mind wander, to what Geto said at the beginning of the night, everything he said about Satoru. And it hurts more than it should, more than you want it to, so you decide maybe it’s for the best if you don’t tell Satoru about tonight after all.

Taglist: @z33sblog @thisbicc @q-the-rockaholic @septembersums @septembersummer @nothisispatrick300 @km7474 @missyasma @greenlovers @naorizenin @a1hina @plants-w0rld

[tragedyofdevotion]

Daily life of a master

Lucifer & Envy

Lucifer may be an avatar of Pride but that does not mean he is immune to other sins.

This tells about a day in which the prideful eldest is faced with a petty feeling called "jealousy".

Lucifer x f! reader, implied demon brothers x f!reader

Contains hints of yandere and suggestive tones of sexual interaction

“Lucifer, may I come in?”

You knocked on the door, holding a small kitty in one hand.

Lucifer was looking at the documents when he heard your voice on the other side of the door. All of his exhaustion seemed to disappear and he quickly looked up towards the entrance.

“Yes, of course,” he said, trying not to show too much of his eagerness.

However, his subtle smile faded away when he saw that feline in your arms.

Detecting his worsening mood, you quickly said, “Before you say anything, Lucifer, can you please hear me out first?”

“Go on.”

He was a bit vexed at the sight of the cat, but he decided to listen to your story. He could not very well kick you out of his office, after all.

“I found this little guy last week. He was about to give out in the rain alone. That was why I decided to treat him a little before he became better. But now, I am too attached to let him go. So, I am wondering, if you, maybe, allow me to keep it at the house of Lamentation. Of course, I promise that I will take care of it well and I will make sure the whole family of cats will not come to stay with us. So, can I….? Please…?”

You tried to put on your cutest puppy face.

“First, no you will not. Second, you are bad at lying. Third, Satan, I know that you are eavesdropping.”

After he said that, the door opened with a "Tch!” and Satan appeared.

“If you already knew, you should have said so from the start. Why waste my time?”

“I thought he would allow it if y/n was the one asking,” he murmured under his breathe.

The younger brother came in and took the cat from your hands. “I now understand your inflexible mind. Y/n, I am going to look for a new home for this kitten. You will come with me, right?”

"Okay.”

“No, she will not. I have something important to talk to her about. You may go ahead alone.”

Grumping, Satan went out of the room with his cat.

…

“So, Lucifer, about earlier, how did you know it was Satan's idea? I thought my acting was perfect.”

“Did you think you can lie to me? Me, the eldest avatar of sins? And that story was too unrealistic. You, who did not even love cats, suddenly had the urge to adopt one? Even Mammon can make up a better story.”

“How did you know I don’t like cats? I have never told anyone in Devildom.”

“It was so obvious. Did you really think you had me fooled? I know that you don’t like dealing with any pets. You were just going along with Satan because you did not want to hurt his feelings, right?”

“Yes…”

“Why are you so indulgent towards Satan? You go along with his pranks, too, but you are strict when it comes to Mammon and others’ antics. Don’t tell me… Is Satan your favorite?”

Suddenly, he closed in on you, and cornered your form, successfully caging you between his arms and the wall. You did not have the time to squeal over the famous "kabedon" as he held up your chin tightly with one hand to meet your gaze. Even the romantic scene you had watched in many animes became so scary when one of the most powerful demons in existence was glaring at you with hungry eyes.

“No, of course, not. I have told you guys over and over that I love all of you equally, did I not?”

He continued to stare into your eyes, with so much intensity that it felt as if he was looking directly into your soul.

After a few more seconds of agonizing silence, he finally let go of your face.

“It would do well for all of us if you were to keep your words.”

“That was scary,” you thought to yourself. Your demons were nice most of the time but occasionally they became quite frightening. But you don’t know what is the trigger for their sudden switch.

“If you are done, may I go back to my room? I have so much homework left to do.”

As you are turning away, Lucifer caught your hand.

“You know there is no way I will let you go like this, right?”

He hugged you from behind, his hands unbuttoning your blouse. He kissed your neck and whispered into your ear.

“You tried to lie to me. I will have to teach your body so that you will never be dishonest towards me ever again. Don’t you think so?”

You sighed internally because you know you will not finish your assignments any time soon.

[calxide]

⸻ WHEN IT COMES FROM HIM ✦

albedo x gn!reader | 400+ words ; no pronouns used for reader. mentions of reader experiencing fatigue, stress, and migraine. yakult <3. fluff. albedo is a tease because i'm living for that. highkey self-indulgent because i am stressed.

SINCE WHEN DID YAKULT TASTES THIS GREAT?

Albedo chuckled as he saw you drink all the contents of Yakult he had given you a few seconds before in one gulp.

You catch your breath, eyeing him suspiciously. "What's... funny?" You said, your breath still shallow.

Albedo didn't answer your question. Instead, he only smiled a little with his eyes closed, drinking his own Yakult after giving you another one.

Ah, really... He's teasing you again.

This vending machine at your university's campus was your go-to place whenever you're stressed. You two would go there to breathe in the fresh air. Fresh from chemicals from the lab, fresh from the smell of coffee in the coffee shop, fresh from the smell of book pages.

Basically, your date place. Wait, no, you two are not dating... yet. Because that's a story for another day.

It's the first week of school, and your professors had the audacity to shower students with tons of schoolwork. And you were one of those students.

Today, you were too immersed in working on the project that your professor gave you. Due to that, you forgot to eat lunch and take a rest — because of that, Albedo scolded you.

You were thankful to have Albedo by your side; if not for him, you're probably drop dead gorgeous by now.

"It feels like I haven't been alive for years," you whispered and sighed.

Silence followed, and rain started pouring down from the previously blue sky that was now as dark as the bags under your eyes.

Your eyes are threateningly closing, and you feel the fatigue and stress overcoming your body slowly. You've been overworking yourself for the past week, and you have no one to blame for that but yourself. But you thought that you couldn't help that at all. Wanting your parents' validation added more pressure to the fact that you want to make a good impression on your professors.

Albedo had flicked your forehead before your eyes fully closed.

"Hey! What the hell was that for? I already have a mind-splitting migra—"

Albedo didn't let you finish your sentence. He put his finger on your lips to shut you up. "You're such an idiot," he teased you, his lips slowly forming into a smile.

"Go home and get some rest. I'll give you more Yakults if you do."

With that, he bid goodbye, leaving you with another Yakult on hand.

"Does he seriously think drinking Yakult is enough to make me live now?" You chuckled at the thought.

Maybe it does... when it comes from him.

NOTE i was working on my science activity then my grandma gave me yakult instead of food. she gave up trying to give me snacks to eat, then suddenly i had beaten writer's block LMAOOOO grandmothers are the best fr !! i'm so tired of school. i should deactivate school then focus on tumblr and genshin <3

P.S. I KNOW I SAID I'LL UPDATE MIXED SIGNALS THIS WEEK BUT I JUST DON'T HAVE THE POWER TO DO SO OKAY T^T

[di-writes-stuff]

Evermore

Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Part 4

TW: Honestly nothing. This is just pure indulgent flirting. I figured you guys have put up with enough emo shit for a while.

It’s been almost ten hours since the three of you started walking this morning, and it doesn’t seem like you’re gonna stop soon. Your feet are aching in your boots, and it’s bad enough that Ellie is trailing behind you and Joel, when she normally walks a few paces ahead.

Everything is about the same as it has been, in fact, there’s a new kind of comfort between the three of you. Ever since you learned the truth about what Joel and Ellie are doing you’ve all found yourselves trusting each other a bit more.

Despite that, the three of you haven’t said a word for the past hour. The only sounds are the ground crunching beneath your feet, and heavy, slightly strained breathing. Your legs burn, even this slight incline whooping your ass after how long you’ve been walking.

Joel looks over at you, watching as you wipe sweat off your forehead, his eyes following your hand like a hawk as it trails down to the collar of your flannel. You undo one button, a sheen of sweat covering your neck and chest.

He tries to look away. He really does.

It doesn’t cross your mind that he might be watching, distracted by the strain in your whole body.

A bead of sweat falls from your chin, dripping down your chest, slowly approaching the collar of your shirt.

His eyes trail down, lower, too low.

He needs to look away.

He doesn’t.

Joel’s eyes flick up to your face when you hiss in pain, worry flashing across his eyes as he finally rips his gaze away.

“You alright?” He says, hoping he doesn’t sound like he’s been caught, although he feels like he has.

You look up at him, smiling despite yourself when you see his face.

You’ve got it bad.

“Yeah, ankles still a little sore, that’s all. I’m fine, though.” You gesture to the ankle that was injured the first time you met Joel and Ellie. It feels so long ago now, but in reality, it’s only been around a month.

So long since you and Joel were strangers.

So long since you didn’t feel anything towards him.

Since you were ready, willing even, to hurt him.

The thought of it twists your stomach into knots, a small lump forming in your throat. You hadn’t realized just how much you started to care for him, but the thought keeps replaying in your head, the thought of what you might have done to him that night.

It terrifies you.

You snap out of it when Joel speaks to you again.

“Y/N?”

You look up, realizing he’d been talking to you.

“Huh?” You say stupidly, the concern in his eyes making your stomach flip.

He quirks an eyebrow at you, wondering what has you so distracted. “I was just saying we can take a break, if you want.”

You shake your head, watching as his eyes scan your face, hoping you’re not too red.

“No, no. I’m okay.” You answer quickly, staring at him like an idiot, only looking down when you nearly fall, tripping over a tree root.

Dammit.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up when you feel Joel’s hands land on your arm and waist, steadying you.

You stand back up, giving Ellie a quick thumbs up when she asks if you’re okay, embarrassment flooding you when you look up and see Joel staring at you, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

He lets his hand fall from your arm.

The one on your waist stays.

Neither of you seem to mind.

“You sure your alright?” Joel asks teasingly.

You roll your eyes, your hand still resting on his arm, both of your hearts racing at the contact.

“Very funny. Maybe if you hadn’t distracted me.” You look up at him, embarrassment masked with annoyance plastered on your face.

He places his hand on the small of your back, starting to walk again.

He grins a little bit, his voice cocky when he replies “Maybe if you weren’t staring. Didn’t realize I was so distracting.”

You keep your eyes ahead, blush spreading across your face like a forest fire.

He laughs a bit, it’s charming and you love it. You hate it too. He finally lets his hand fall from your back, and it slips a bit lower than it was when he does.

It was a second.

Maybe less than that.

But the contact, the flirting, however mild, his smile, his laugh, his eyes, his hands on you, him.

You wanna scream.

You see him watching you out of the corner of your eye and you smirk.

“Who’s staring now?”

It’s his turn to stare ahead, and he nearly snaps his neck with how quick he looks away from you.

You laugh at his behavior, shaking your head as you wonder what exactly this is. Joel’s never been like this before. I mean, hes been sweet to you, there’s been little touches here and there. His hand on your arm a bit longer than it needs to be, stolen glances here and there, but nothing more.

But this…

It’s certainly more forward.

And it certainly has a different affect.

You turn around when you hear Ellie start to talk, assuming she’s gonna complain about how long you’ve been walking.

“Since when do you guys flirt so much?” She asks, a shit eating grin on her face as she teases the both of you.

Joel grimaces, looking away from you before responding to her.

“Since when do you eavesdrop on all our conversations?” He quips back.

You run a hand over your face, desperate to hide your blush.

“Not much else to do. Besides, it’s kinda entertaining, in an awkward, sorta embarrassing way. For you guys, I mean.”

You can practically feel the laughter Ellie’s holding back as she speaks. Her tone tells you everything you need to know.

Joel sighs, clearly given up with the mouthy teenager.

You groan, before looking back at her playfully.

“Oh can it, won’t you? Wasn’t like that anyway.”

That’s a loud of bull.

You all know it.

You say it anyway.

Ellie drops it, but not without a sarcastic “mhm” to follow.

You sigh, a silence settling over your little group. You look up at Joel, his gaze set straight ahead.

You do the same, forcing your eyes not to drift back to the man next to you.

……………………………………………………………………………………

After about half of hour more of walking, you finally call it quits for the day, setting up a fire and laying your bedrolls around it.

You find yourself in a familiar situation, sitting at the fire staring at Joel Miller. Ellie fell asleep shortly after you set up camp, leaving you and Joel alone.

Neither of you have said a word, and you’re starting to think neither of you will. It’s like whiplash, one moment the two of you are normal, and the next it’s back to this.

Utter and complete silence.

You would understand if you’d started it. Whatever this is turning into. But it was him. The teasing, the touches, all of it. It was him.

So why the hell did he seem so upset?

In reality, it had nothing to do with you. Well, it did. But it wasn’t directed at you. It was him. He was mad at himself. For starting something when he knows damn well he won’t go through with it. He can’t go through with it. He can flirt. He can tease. But, more than that?

You deserve more than that.

You deserve a better man than him.

A man without blood on his hands.

A man who knows how to handle love. Who can handle his own feelings. The feelings he tries so hard to deny exist.

You deserve love.

And Joel Miller isn’t a man who knows how to love. It’s been too long. He’s forgotten that art. Or at least he’s convinced himself he has.

Even Ellie, he cares about her, he protects her. He’d die for her. But he can’t bring himself to talk to her. To open up.

And you?

There’s a pit in his stomach every time he speaks to you. Not because he dislikes you, no, definitely not.

It’s the opposite. And to Joel, that’s worse. So. Much. Worse.

If he hated you it would be so much simpler. He wouldn’t have to think like this. You wouldn’t even exist to him.

But you do.

More than exist. You matter to him. He cares about you.

He likes you.

A lot.

“Joel?”

He looks up as you say his name, the crease between his eyebrows disappearing as he sees your face.

He clears his throat, sitting up a little taller.

“Yeah?”

You sigh, looking at him like he just said the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard.

“What’s your problem? You won’t even look at me.” You intended to sound annoyed, but it came off hurt, a bit pathetic, really.

“I-“ Joel sighs. “I’m sorry. For, earlier. You know, how I acted. I shouldn’t have- it was stupid. I was just, listen. You…I-“

You exhale loudly, holding back a smile as you realize what this is about.

“Joel. Just stop. You don’t have to be sorry. Hell, I don’t even know why your apologizing, but you don’t have to.” You cut him off, confused at his behavior.

He looks up at you, his eyes softening.

“I just…I shouldn’t have pushed it. This.”

This.

What the hell is this?

“This?” You question, and you both know what you’re asking. If this is more than it was yesterday. If he changed something.

He stays silent, looking down awkwardly.

“This doesn’t have to be anything. Not now. Not yet.”You say gently. You’re careful with your words, not wanting to suggest that it can’t ever be something.

Because deep down inside, you’re starting to think you want it to be.

Joel smiles at this, almost looking relieved.

“Thank you. For-I don’t know. Just..thank you.” He still stumbles over his words a bit, clearly not used to this. Neither of you really are.

You nod, debating whether or not to say want your thinking.

“Besides, I like this. It’s…it’s nice.”

He looks at you like you just told him the best news of his life.

You stand up, walking past him to your bedroll, letting your hand brush his shoulder as you do.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He stares into the fire for a little while longer, the heat from it pales in comparison to the burn the touch of your hand leaves behind.

Yeah, he likes this too.

A/N: This is totally self indulgent fluff tbh. So if anybody ends up reading this, we’ll be back to the regularly scheduled angst next chapter.

-di

[beemine001]

“Do I know you?” “No” “Should I?” “Yes.”

a/n: purely self-indulgent, i love writing and reading angst, especially for my favorite characters TwT

Pairing: Shuichi Saihara x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

[ cw: amnesia, angst, pet names, reader and Shuichi were in a relationship ]

[ two endings! ]

Your fingers brushed against Shuichi's cheek gently. You were seated on a chair next to your boyfriend's hospital bed. One hand caressed his face while the other held his unmoving hand. He had undergone a neurological procedure a few days prior, helping fix a critical head injury. There were quite a few risks, but it seemed as though he was doing okay. You wiped some tears that welled up in your eyes and smiled softly. It was all okay now. He was okay, you were okay, it was fine. As you continued holding his hand, you felt a slight twitch in his fingers. Your eyes widened as he started to come to. He opened his eyes slowly, and you squeezed his hand. You gave him time to sit up and readjust to the scenery. You could hear the beeping of machinery around you, but you ignored it all and focused on him, smiling up at him. 

"How are you doing, sweetie?" you asked, worried he would be hurting or achy. He didn't say anything right away and just gazed around the room with a confused and dazed expression. After maybe 10 minutes passed, you squeezed his hand once more to get him to focus on you again. He turned his head back to you, his eyes still full of confusion. 

"U-uhm, excuse me, but.. do I know you?" His words sent chills down your spine, and you laughed nervously.

"What are you talking about, babe? Of course, you know me!" you tilted your head a bit, looking at his face. You studied it for a moment before letting go of his hand. You felt as if you couldn't breathe. You knew this was a risk, but you didn't want to believe it could happen. 

"You're not serious, are you..?" 

Shuichi scrunched up his eyebrows. 

"No, I am. Do I know you?" he repeated. You felt your heart shatter. 

"Severe memory loss could occur, and there's little to no possibility he could regain it." 

You heard the doctor's words echo in your mind as you turned away for a moment, regaining your composure even though you wanted to break down. 

"Do you remember anything? Anything at all?" you hoped he could recall maybe the slightest memory of you, and you could build off that again. Shuichi looked like he was deep in thought for a few moments but shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember you. Who are you?" he asked curiously.

"I'm y/n l/n.. your partner.." you choked out, still holding onto the slightest chance that those words would ring a bell in his head. He shook his head. 

"No, I'm sorry," he felt that he should remember this person, but he just couldn't. You nodded solemnly. 

"I understand. I'll be right back," you stood up and left the room, getting a doctor. You talked to the doctor outside the room for a few minutes, and while your voice was muffled through the thin walls, Shuichi could tell you were emotional. He sighed, knowing he made a mistake of some sort. You come back into the room with the doctor. You sit down in your chair once more and listen to the doctor. 

"We'll need to run some tests still, but it seems as if you might have suffered some sort of amnesia, young man." he turned to you. "I'm very sorry, both of you." You stayed silent, deep in thought. You stayed in that room for a few more hours while Shuichi was moved to do some tests. When he returned, the doctor handed some paperwork to you. 

"These are just his release forms, just sign them, and you guys can go," he said. You signed them, and Shuichi started to leave the room. Before you could walk out, though, the doctor put his hand on your shoulder and looked into your eyes. 

"It'll be okay, be patient, and don't lose faith." You smiled at him and thanked him, following Shuichi. The two of you go to your car, and you take the driver's seat, letting him in the passenger seat. You sighed and rested your head on the steering wheel for a moment. Then you looked at him and couldn't help but let a few tears slip down your cheeks. 

"Listen, it's up to you to believe me or not, but you do know me. We've been dating for the past two years and are engaged.." you explained, speaking slowly so you don't crack, and held up your left hand, showing him the ring he had given to you with such excitement. 

Ending 1, he trusts you and slowly falls in love with you once more.

Shuichi looked thoughtful. 

"I can't say I remember you, nor that I love you," you nodded, more tears coming to your eyes. "But, I do believe you, and I'm sorry that you're going through this," he paused. "I want to give this a try. For your sake." he smiled softly. You felt a wave of relief and joy flowing over you. You knew you would have to take things slow, like how things first started, but you were also willing to give this another chance. You loved him very much, and even though he couldn't reciprocate those feelings right now, your feelings didn't change. You gently held his hand, looking for consent before squeezing it. 

"Thank you, Shuichi." you smiled before letting go and putting your hands back on the wheel, starting to drive off back to your shared house. 

[ about 4 months later ] 

A few months later, things were much better. You two went on dates frequently and explained a lot about your previous relationship to him. You also re-explained everything about you, your favorites, your dislikes, your family, and the reason you don't like baloney (which sent both of you into a laughing fit). It seemed as if things were mostly back to normal. And even though he couldn't ever remember the memories you guys shared, you would cherish them forever. You knew he might not have remembered you, but you knew he regained his feelings for you overtime. You sighed happily. 

"What are you thinking about?" Shuichi said from beside you on your shared bed.

"Nothing," you smiled and kissed his cheek.

Ending 2, he doesn't trust you like he used to, and you split apart; he moves on while you hold onto him.

Shuichi sighed. 

"I'm sorry, I really am, and I'm not saying you're a liar, but I just can't suddenly be engaged to someone I don't know... anymore," he frowned. 

"I'm sure you're a wonderful person, y/n, but I can't do that." You felt yourself start to become desperate. 

"No, no, I'm not saying we have to be engaged still, but what if we could just restart? From the beginning?" you begged. Shuichi shook his head. 

"I'm sorry, y/n." 

You turned away from him, silently looking out the front window, and waterfalls started in your eyes, streaming down your face. You nodded slowly. 

"Okay," you choked. "Where would you like me to drop you off? I can bring all your stuff to wherever you're going." Shuichi nodded and told you the address to his parent's house, still able to remember stuff from his childhood. You nodded once more and drove him to his house in silence. 

"Here we are. I'll pack your things and bring them to you as soon as possible." You forced a smile as you let Shuichi out of the car and watched him as he walked up the steps to his house and disappeared inside. 

[ about 4 months later ]

Everything was different now. You had sold the house after packing and giving Shuichi all his belongings, now living in a one-bedroom apartment. You were sitting on your couch, head in your hands. It had been months, yet you were still holding onto him. You knew he had probably moved on by now and forgotten about you, but part of you had never let him go. Now you were looking at your photos, hundreds and hundreds of them, all of you and Shuichi's life together. Your thumb hovered over the Delete All button. You sighed. You knew the only way to feel better was to move on yourself, and with little hesitation, you pressed the button, watching as photos disappeared one by one. 

Everything was different now. And maybe that was for the better. 

writing rules [requests open!!] | m.list

[alrighty-matty]

perhaps love

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: 5 times Matt didn’t realize he was in love with you + 1 time he did.

Warning: none!

Note: this is me indulging myself in a fic after listening to one (1) song for months over and over until i’m slowly getting sick of it. enjoy!

1.

Matt followed closely behind as you happily explored the ground beyond. He tilted his head over his shoulder nervously, silently listening to Foggy trail behind him, a little too slow for his liking. For once he was extremely grateful that his enhanced hearing gave him the upper ground.

“Matt! Foggy!” you hollered. Matt winced. Okay, maybe not that much. “I’m flying!”

“Holy fuck,” Foggy cursed underneath his breath. He slowly nudged him along to move faster. Matt rolled his eyes, at last. “What the hell are you doing? Get down!”

“What are they doing?” Matt asked warily. Having either one of his friends drunk always split into two possibilities; he never knew whether he was up for a laugh or a trip to the ER.

“Climbing the fucking flagpole,” Foggy grunted. He sounded both exasperated and amused, but his step was a little too slow from the drink he had earlier.

“Jesus.”

Keeping an eye on drunk you was one thing, but coaxing you to slowly climb down the flagpole was a whole another feast. Foggy yelled at you to climb down, which only earned him a snarky remark and a waterwork on your part. Matt was unable to hold back laughter after that, silently wondering what the hell did they put in the punch bowl back at the house party.

“Just climb down, please,” Foggy said exasperatedly. “We’re too broke for a trip to the ER.”

Matt shook his head, smiling. “Do you want chicken nuggets?” he hollered at you.

That seemed to catch your attention. You sniffed loudly, spreading and contaminating the air with your salty tears. “Chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “I have a lot of chicken nuggets back at my dorm. But you have to carefully climb down, okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffed again. “Promise?”

“Promise. Be careful.”

You hummed, slowly making a tentative step to climb down from the flagpole. Foggy hovered nearby on the left, so Matt took the right side. His heart hammered his ribcage painfully, the air suddenly felt stale and stagnant as you took a painstakingly slow pace to climb down the flagpole.

Matt heard it a second too late—a slice in the air, split into the stagnant air as you lose your grip on the pole. Matt leaped without thinking, letting his cane fall to the ground to catch you before you were able to meet the same fate as his cane. He felt his heart jump out of its pants right into his throat, suffocating him.

“I told you to be careful!” he chided, suddenly angry at your clumsiness. He knew that was irrational, you probably won’t remember anything by the time the sun was out, but he was seeing red.

But that only made you laugh—no, giggling. Your hand clumsily patted his cheek. “I love your glasses.”

Matt huffed as he hoisted you up to your feet, hands shaky with how hard his heart was beating now. Foggy handed him his cane and probably gave him slight odd looks now. He prayed that he was also drunk enough to doubt this exact memory tomorrow or chalk it up to a very nice coincidence.

“I told you we’re too broke for a trip to the ER!” Foggy joined him to scold you. He shook his head. “That was terrifying and dangerous. Don’t do that again.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, but a wide smile on your face made the whole ordeal both felt insincere and ridiculous. “Matty,” you tugged his sleeve. “Have I told you I love your glasses?”

“Yes,” Matt mumbled, patting his chest to calm his erratic heartbeat. He pressed his lips to form a tense line, perplexed that his heart hadn’t calmed down yet from the rush of adrenaline. “Let’s get you back to your dorm.”

“But I love your glasses!”

“I know.”

Matt shook his head to snap him out of his stupor. He was just surprised. He was just scared—terrified of what just happened.

2.

You rushed into his dorm without knocking. Matt had heard you approaching before you were anywhere near his door, but he still had the decency to put a faux surprise on his face. He turned around from his chair, listening to you sauntering in like you owned the place, and sat on his bed.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Hello to you too.”

You grunted at him, pressing a pillow against your face.

“Knocking is polite, you know,” he teased. He frowned when it met with silence, and his frown deepened when he felt salt in the air, and then your quiet sob muffled by his pillow filled his every wall.

“Hey, hey,” he slowly approached you, sitting on the edge of his bed. “It’s okay. You’re okay now, I’m here.”

That only made you sob harder. Matt climbed his bed into the empty spot next to you, gently placed his hand on your back in a silent question about whether you wanted to be touched or not. You lifted your head in a silent answer, slowly melting into his embrace, and sobbed against his shoulder.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, stroking your back in a vain attempt to soothe you. He didn’t know who he did it for—to soothe you or him, distracting himself from the very sound he knew he hated the most in the whole wide world.

“I broke up,” you said hoarsely.

“What?”

“I broke up with James,” you repeated. Matt had to physically restrain himself from scowling at hearing the name he wasn’t exactly fond of. “It didn’t work. We didn’t work. No matter how hard I try we—” you inhaled sharply. “God. God I’m fucking hard to love, aren’t I?”

Matt furrowed his eyebrows. “Who said that?”

“It just… I don’t know. I spent so many times, so many things with him, you know?” you started to teared up again, voice shaky with tears. “I felt like I poured all of my soul into loving him but he didn’t even try to give the same thing. It almost felt like I was an afterthought—god, I actually felt so lonely when I’m with him, you know? Maybe I’m just too much.”

“Don’t say that. You’re never too much, not to me.”

Matt let you collapse your head into his shoulder again, absentmindedly making a circular pattern on your forearm. He couldn’t remember when was the last time that piece of shit actually made you happy instead of eliciting tears after tears. At one point he was convinced you were dating an onion.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you sniffed. “God, I’m going to die alone with twenty cats! Nobody’s gonna love me besides my family,” you wailed loudly.

“We can die alone together with twenty cats if you want,” Matt said, rocking you gently back and forth. “I love you, okay? You’re not gonna die alone. Not while I’m here.”

“I want to retire to the countryside someday,” you said. “Will you join me live in the countryside, Murdock?”

Matt huffed a laugh. “As you said, I’m a city boy through and through. But I’ll visit you every weekend.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“That’s more than enough.”

Matt grabbed your hand and squeezed it. The tears hadn’t dried up completely, but you were no longer actively sobbing or wailing anymore. He rested his cheek atop your head, feeling the familiar feeling of your hair tickling his skin and the smell of your shampoo invading his senses.

The door creaked open and Foggy walked in. He opened his mouth to make a dry remark about how often you stayed in their room—as he always does—only to stop when his eyes caught the sight of you.

“Who do I need to fight?” he demanded.

“No one, Fogs.”

Foggy immediately took a seat on Matt’s bed, his hand silently reaching for you. You shifted slightly on your seat, adjusting so you were comfortably sandwiched between him and Matt. “Seriously, who do I need to fight? What happened to you?”

“I broke up with James,” you said, shaking your head.

“What did he do to you? Where is that bastard now?”

“It’s not worth it, Fogs,” you firmly said. Matt imagined that you furrowed your eyebrows tensely, and he suddenly got overcome with a huge desire to press his thumb between your eyebrows to smooth them out. “Let it be.”

“Fine. But if he does something stupid after this, it’s on sight,” Foggy sighed, pressing his back against the wall. “You can do a lot better, you know? He’s a bit of an ass anyway.”

He’s a major ass, Matt silently thought.

3.

Matt banged his fist against your door frantically. His throat was raw from calling your name behind your door, repeatedly trying to get your attention. It was a wonder none of your neighbors had tried to kick him out yet, but he couldn’t find himself to care anyway. You failed to show up at work today, and after he, Foggy, and Karen were unable to reach your phone repeatedly—all directed to voicemail—he made the decisive decision to sprint to your apartment.

The only salvation and reassurance you did not magically disappear from the earth was the sound of your heartbeat from behind the door.

Your door opened at last, and he immediately knew something was amiss as you croaked, “Matt?”

“Hey,” he breathed, suddenly feeling light. The anxiety that shot up through him suddenly dissipated, like a knife being pulled out from a stab wound. “You didn’t show up at work today. You didn’t answer any of our calls—”

“Oh, shit,” you slapped your forehead. “I’m sorry, I think my phone died.”

Matt extended his hand quietly, pressing the back of his hand into your forehead. He hissed when his skin met your balmy one, a frown found a place on his lips. “You’re burning up,” he said. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Despite your initial protest, you made little to no effort swatting him away. Not that any of them would work, anyway. Matt tucked you to bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“Are you cold?” he murmured softly, gently propping your leg up into his lap to put on a sock on your cold feet. You hummed half-heartedly, already slipping back into slumber. “Have you eaten anything today?”

His question met with another half-hearted answer, but Matt still made his way into your kitchen anyway. He was not exactly a stranger there; he burned the layout of your apartment into memory just well enough. He scrambled through your fridge, thankful that you went grocery shopping a few days back.

Matt roused you awake to feed you some of his chicken soup—a recipe his father left him, a legacy, a memento of a happier and simpler day. You were annoyed for being woken up from your sleep, made sure to make a few grunts and annoyed huffs all directed to him, subtlety was never your strongest suit. But you relent anyway when Matt stayed equally as stubborn, the smell of the soup eventually wins you over.

“Go back to sleep now,” he said softly, satisfied that you were warm and fed and had swallowed some medicines. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” you yawned, snuggling closer to your pillow.

Matt sighed, a small smile tugged his lips before he knew it. “Promise,” he brushed your hair gently.

“Okay,” you sighed loudly. “If I wake up and you’re not here, I’ll fight you.”

“Sure. If you can reach my neck.”

You shoved him gently as a response, too exhausted to verbally bite back from his teasing. Matt lingered until he was sure you were fast asleep before he made his way to your living room to ring Foggy.

“Matt?” you walked the length of the living room with your sock-clad feet. Matt jumped to his feet immediately, meeting you in the middle. “Matt, there’s a giant spider in my room.”

Matt gently grabbed your shoulders, slowly guiding you into his embrace in a protective stance. He tilted his head, a mindless attempt to hear better, and couldn’t find any living being aside from you and him.

Not that he ever paid any mind to bugs in the first place.

“There isn’t any spider,” he said softly. “Let’s go back to bed.”

You shook your head stubbornly, firmly gripping his sleeve. “There’s a giant spider in my room!”

Matt blinked. He wasn’t sure if he couldn’t hear bugs crawling in your walls, or if this was your fever speaking. He sighed quietly, gently tugging you back to your room and back to your bed.

You didn’t voice out any protest, but your clutch on his sleeve was getting firmer and firmer the closer you were to your room. Matt wordlessly tucked you back to bed and laid down next to you.

“Matt?” you called. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m here,” he reassured you. “It’s okay, go back to sleep. You’re safe.”

“Fight the spider for me.”

Matt chuckled. “Always.”

Matt shut his eyes, the sound of your steady heartbeat slowly lulled him to sleep. He found himself silently wishing and praying to be able to stay here, protect you from countless giant spiders, for as long as he could.

4.

“Do you ever think about taking a fanny pack with you?”

Matt blinked. He slowly put down his fork, ingesting your question and dissecting it one by one until it made sense inside his brain. “A fanny pack?”

You hummed, completely ignoring his bewildered expression that he was sure painted as clear as the day on his face, or completely oblivious. Which was unlikely.

“I don’t think your funky suit has any pockets,” you said thoughtfully. Matt would find the whole thing funny that you were sincere and serious with your question if he wasn’t so surprised. “But of course, you ought to put horns on your helmet. Couldn’t say no to living up to your reputation.”

Matt huffed, a laugh escaped him before he could register it—more bewilderment than mirth. He had come clean to you about who he was a few days back. It only felt right after Foggy had found out, and leaving you in the dark, no matter how much the thought of you finding out and meddling in both of his lives terrified him to death, felt incredibly wrong.

You took the news with stride—if a prolonged silence could count as one. But Matt knew you enough to know that the truth had been slowly seeping into simmering water for a while. It was a matter of time before the kettle whistled, and he dreaded the day it happened.

“Why would I need a fanny pack?”

“So you can bring a water bottle with you. Some granola bars to snack,” your voice sounded far away. He hated it. “Dehydration is a serious thing, Matt.”

Matt pursed his lips, caught in between amusement and wariness. “You think about this a lot, don’t you?”

“Can’t get it out of my head.”

Matt toyed with his ramen quietly, the only sound that settled between you and him comfortably was the wind blowing from the rooftop. The kettle was coming into a whistle anytime now.

“I’ll be fine, I swear,” Matt said. “Don’t you worry about me.”

You threw your hands in the air. “That’s not the point Matt!” you yelled, voice cracking with upcoming tears. “What if—what if you hadn’t had time to eat some dinner before you go? What if you’re hungry during your patrol and couldn’t find anything to eat? What if you’re thirsty after leaping from building to building and fighting, I don’t know, some bank robbers?” you jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “No human can go longer than three days without water!”

Matt stayed silent, patiently listening to your rambling about the importance of proper hydration. He felt a smile slowly forming on his face despite himself, despite the tears that slowly ran down your face, and despite the fact that you were yelling at his face. The words of your ramble—slipped with fret and scolding here and there—made his heart sing, flutter with the wind.

He still had the decency not to chuckle and tried to take your words into his heart and put it in the highest consideration. The whole fanny pack idea was an instant no, but he ought to figure out how to stay properly hydrated from now on.

“Are you done?” Matt asked gently with a smile.

You must have thrown him the nastiest look you could muster. “Yes,” you said sulkily. He just knew there was a prominent pout appearing. “Don’t laugh! I’m serious!”

“I know, I know,” he coughed to masked a laughter slowly bubbling up. “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried. But I can’t bring a fanny pack with me, stealth is my key and a fanny pack would defeat the whole purpose.”

“You still need to eat,” you sounded dejected, and it took everything inside him not to scoop you up to brush away all the sadness. “And most importantly to drink water regularly.”

Instead, he settled by grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I promise to always eat some dinner before I go and drink plenty of water before and after patrol. How’s that sound?”

“You still need to drink after fighting too.”

“I’ll find a way. You know I’ll always find a way.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Matt squeezed your hand again. He slowly crossed his heart with his finger. “Cross my heart.”

And later that night, when he found a piece of granola bar right underneath his suit, he knew that perhaps your worry wouldn’t completely melt away—not even with the most sincere promise. Matt found himself smiling widely that his cheeks started to hurt, over a granola bar and no less, feeling his heart painfully blossoming a feeling he still yet to find the name.

But he knew, deep down, his heart was singing your name.

5.

Matt listened to the sound of your footsteps roaming around his kitchen. He stood silently, hovering on the furthest corner of his kitchen counter, waiting for his tea to steep into perfection. You had come knocking on his door first thing in the morning—he was sure the sun was barely out yet, he barely had a wink of sleep himself.

It was his birthday today. He barely even remembered his own birthday, long after he lost his father, the idea of celebrating had never been appealing. But here you were, roaming in his kitchen, rummaging through his fridge like you were the one who spent all the money that goes to all the stuff inside, chopping and staining his kitchen counter as if you owned it. You were determined to pull a birthday celebration for him, even though it only consisted of a small lunch get-together with Karen and Foggy.

Matt couldn’t find himself to mind.

He liked it even.

Little words had been exchanged between you and him. Matt had learned long ago that you have a distaste for talking when you were cooking and insisting on doing so only means inviting his own demise. The sound of your footsteps, the mumble of commentary about certain ingredients underneath your breath, and most of all your steady heartbeat were more than enough.

“Matt,” you called for him, breaking his train of thought. It was hard to get Matt startled, but again, he didn’t expect you’d start a conversation mid-cooking. “Matt!” you tried again.

“What?”

“I’m going to turn on the blender,” you said. The sound of the lid closing followed after. “You might want to put on your headphones.”

Matt pursed his lips. You had given him a noise-canceling headphone as a gift for Christmas a year ago. He didn’t hate it necessarily, on days when it was rough and everything was too loud it helped tremendously, but having himself relied on his hearing for years only to have it numbed out felt extremely jarring.

Not to mention it brought back certain memories he didn’t want to think about.

“Should I?” he asked, pulling his tea bag out of his cup. “I think I can manage.”

“It’s loud. You took a lot of beating last night, I don’t want to give you a headache.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Matt shook his head.

“But—”

“If it hurts my ear I’ll put it on, okay?”

“You tell me if it gives you a headache.”

“Okay,” Matt smiled. Always so stubborn, you are. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” you relented. You rarely dispute his claims when it comes to certain things, this included, and Matt was more than grateful. “Maybe don’t stay in the kitchen with me while I turn this thing on.”

Matt squeezed your shoulders as he walked past. A lot of words slowly pushed out of his mouth, a jumble of incoherent sentences bouncing inside his head yet nothing meaningful he could grasp. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he ended up settling with only, “Thanks for the heads up.”

+1

“Put this thing on when you go out,” you said as you draped something around his neck—scarf?—and patted his shoulder proudly. Matt practically could feel pride and happiness radiating off you from this close proximity, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“What’s this?”

“Scarf,” you said, confirming his suspicion. You gently nudged him up to move within the queue for the new bakery that had just opened near your place. Matt had volunteered to come with you after Foggy and Karen both refused your request, not particularly fond of the long line.

He was grateful for the long line, though. Winter had started to give a little taste of its presence lately, the temperature had been dropping steadily this past week. The cold weather outside made this warm bakery a lot more hospitable, but Matt already dreaded the walk back from here.

“Is this an early Christmas gift?” Matt asked, running his hand through the soft fabric of the scarf. The smell of your perfume lingered on every inch of the fabric.

You hummed. “I planned to give it to you on Christmas, but I finished it early.”

“Finished?” Matt shot his eyebrows into his hairline. “You made this?”

“I did! Here, some cool stuff I did, something you won’t find anywhere else,” you eagerly grabbed his hand to trace his new scarf. You were practically vibrating with excitement. “Do you feel it?”

Matt furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “Yes? What’s this?”

“I sew your name to your scarf, so if you ever happen to lose this somewhere, they can return it to you,” you said proudly, completely oblivious to the way the air knocked out of his lungs at once. “And this,” you brought his hand to trace a bump on his scarf. “I think you know this one better than I do.”

Matt gasped loudly, his fingers shakily traced the bumps you had directed him into. Matthew Murdock. You sew his name in braille on his scarf.

It felt like a punch in the gut, a sudden brute attack that made his lungs collapse all at once. Matt swayed slightly, feeling completely light at the way his stomach flipped out of nowhere. He kept tracing his name over and over, in awe at how perfectly it all assembled together.

“I love you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, the words now spilling out of him uncontrollably. Matt took a long shaky breath, completely drowned in the sea of feelings that flooded him without warning. He didn’t think he could stop now the words were out in the air. “I love you.”

He heard you inhale sharply. “I—”

“No, listen to me,” Matt shook his head. He gently cupped your face, relieved that you didn’t pull away, and aware of how warm your cheeks had become. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I think I always have, I don’t know. It’s always been there, for as long as I can remember,” he sighed. “I also don’t think I can stop now.”

Matt shut his eyes. You deserved a lot better than a makeshift love declaration. He needed to pluck the stars in the sky and lay them on your palms, swam entire oceans, and conquer every single mountaintop. But even then, even if he dragged the moon to your feet and showered you with good-smelling flowers, it wouldn’t be enough to show how much he loved you.

You let out a laugh, soft and fluttering gently in the air. “You’re an ass, Murdock. Are you seriously making a love declaration to me in the middle of a line in a new bakery?”

Matt huffed a surprised laugh. “I feel like you need to know.”

“You’re right, I do,” you covered his hands with your own and gently put them away from your cheeks. You entwined your fingers with his together and melted seamlessly. “But you’re being unfair right now. Because you’re totally kissable, and I can’t kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t like sharing,” you said, swinging your hand and his together gently. “I don’t want these people to see me kissing you. I’d rather kiss you alone.”

Matt felt a wide smile blossoming now. “We can always step out of the line and go somewhere quiet.”

“No, we’re already here. I want my cake,” you punched his arm playfully. “But I’ll kiss you as soon as we’re out.”

Matt was positive he was grinning widely right now. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you tiptoed to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, I love you too, by the way.”

And just like that, he was nothing but a goo that bore his name underneath your touch.