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#and the more I talked and thought about it the more I decided it was time
tonycries · 3 days
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Care For You!
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Synopsis. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer” they say, right? But you don’t think they meant close enough to be in their bed.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, enemies to lovers, hate/ angry séx, spítting, light exhíbitionism (Nanami’s), mentions of kníves (Sukuna’s and Geto’s), chokíng, degradatíon, cúmplay, squírting, overstím, jealousy (Toji’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.7k
A/N. Woahhh I got carried away and this got long, HAHAH.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - F*ck the divorce! (And you)
“What were you sayin’, doll?”
Of course, the only response Toji gets is a wet, pathetic little murmur of something - maybe a curse, probably a plea for more more more-
Something that has his swollen cock twitching so wildly inside your snug cunt - barley even halfway in but still stretched so obscenely around him. Something that had him letting out a low chuckle at how fucked-out his poor wife already sounds.
“What? Can’t talk anymore?” He coos, relishing in the way your nails rake furiously down his sculpted back in reply - a warning. “Drunk on m’cock already?”
But Toji doesn’t stop, not even close. Only slamming faster, deeper into your snug cunt, quick, maddening grinds just to squeeze inside. “How cute. And you were so keen to run your mouth about divorce earlier, you little bitch.”
Fuck.
And then you spit. Hitting right there on the edge of Toji’s pissed off smirk, splattering against that little scar you loved and hated so much.
As if that wasn’t enough insult to injury, your mouth is moving so stupidly before your mind. Ignoring how your pussy was desperately sucking his throbbing cock to look him right in the eyes. Babbling out a broken, yet determined, “Fuck you.”
At this, Toji has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. More to infuriate you than anything as he presses such a deceivingly tender little peck on your mouth. And you know it’s on purpose the way he lets your saliva smear all over both your lips.
“No.” He whispers against your lips, amused, like a little confession. “I’m fucking you.” 
God, and it works. You’re all but seething. Fighting the urge to smack his pretty face as he drags his aching cock all against your plushy walls. Back, back, back till his weeping tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “And m’gonna fuck all thoughts of that divorce right outta ya, doll.”
It’s all that’s said before Toji’s finally bottoming out in one, harsh thrust. Rough enough that you’re sure it’ll leave marks - his heavy balls on your ass, your ankles on his back.
Not even giving you the time to adjust - why would he? He’s got his pretty wife all splayed out and needy for him, what more could he wait for? Ramming his swollen cock into you like he hated you. Like he hated all thoughts of that stupid little idea you brought up, and was well and fully intent on fucking it out of you.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’s wrestling you to face him. Squeezing your cheeks together into such an embarrassing little pout that forces you to look into his darkened eyes. “Open that fucking mouth.”
You just hated how your jaw drops slack as if on instinct. Hated how you can do nothing but moan deliriously as he spits right into your open mouth. Hated the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, plushy walls squeezing him to insanity till you can feel the rapid bump! bump! bump! of his prominent veins. Messy. 
“I’m the only one that gets to do this.” 
God, it was too much for him too. 
“Think y’can divorce me?” He’s rutting into you so animalistically, hips stuttering and sloppy. Like he couldn’t decide between hitting that sweet spot he knew so well and abusing your poor cervix. “Think anyone else can make you get off this good?”
“I- Hngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-”
“Answer me.” he gasps, strained. Angry. Desperate. Breath hot against your face as he pulls and tugs on your lower lip - like a little punishment, as if his throbbing cock wasn’t enough. “Tell me. You think any other loser is gonna fuck you till they can shut up that bitchy mouth of yours?”
And God it was so maddening how he was right - how you knew no one could have you all breathless and cockdrunk like this.
But you couldn’t go down without a fight.
“M-maybe.” you spit, sounding a bit more whiny than you intended. “Maybe some other guy is gonna fuck me better, n’ have a hngh- b-bigger dick too.” 
And Toji notices - of course, he does. Because he’s reaching down to toy with your swollen clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers as if to say “Really?”
He knew you too well. Well enough that he’s only fucking you harder into the mattress, like it hurt to hear any nonsense of some other guy falling from your pretty lips. Like he was taking it out on your ravaged pussy, sliding in and out of your sloppy cunt with reckless abandon. 
“Shut up.” he groans, glancing down at how sinfully you were milking the fucking soul out of him. Hips hitting yours so bruisingly with each word- “Shut up- shut up shut, you little slut.”
“Ngh- Toji. S’too much. Sh-shit.”
“Shut up and take it.” And you can’t escape his unforgiving thrusts even if you wanted to. “No one knows this cute cunt like this. You like this.” Unable to run away with the arm around your hip, the fingers relentless on your puffy clit. “Because this sloppy pussy is mine, I’m the only one fuckin’ her like this.” Teeth latching onto any inch of skin he could reach, rock-hard cock sliding in and out in and- Like he wanted you to stay. Needed you to stay. 
“And m’gonna fuck you till there’s no divorce in that pretty lil’ mind.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Gentleman?
“You think you deserve respect?”
Whoever told you that Nanami was perfect - the epitome of a gentleman - was the biggest liar you’ve ever encountered. Because they’ve clearly never had to work together with that uptight, scrutinizing, overly-strict son of a-
“Yes, I fuckin’ deserve respect.” you spit, the words coming out a bit more breathless than you wanted. Nanami’s office desk cool against your cheek, ass grinding traitorously into his throbbing erection. “Not that you’d know anything about it.”
He’s leaning down to whisper hotly against your ear, “I do. But-” And oh Nanami’s gripping your waist like it was the only thing keeping his sanity tethered to him. Pulling your sloppy pussy closer to him. “-you really think you deserve respect even when you’re being such a slut f’me?”
And maybe you’re an idiot - maybe you’re a mastermind. 
Because in one, fluid motion you’re gripping his silk tie to pull Nanami impossibly closer. That low, throaty groan going straight to your quivering cunt as you grit out, “Yes, sir.”
Several things happen at once - the first being that you learn that Nanami’s ties are soft. Comfortable, even, as he hastily pulls off the damn things, wrapping it around your wrists. Tight. 
You gasp at the realization that you’re now bound and completely vulnerable, pinned to the desk by his weight. Exactly where he wanted you. 
“This,” he huffs, amusement bleeding into his words. “-is more like it.”
God, you hated him. You hated his rubbing up against your back through that sinfully tight shirt as he pools your sweet juices on his fat head. You hated the way he was dragging it lazily, up and down up and down. Teasing. Calculated. Watching all your cute reactions. 
Fuck, you needed him.
“Are you just fucking talk-”
You barely get to finish the sentence before he’s ramming his aching cock inside your sopping pussy. Not even moments later, as he fucks you into the desk. Like he was trying to break it. Break you. 
Hips colliding with yours over and over and over, you were only thankful that these walls were sound-proofed. Because otherwise, the entire office building would be hearing all your delirious moans. Breath ragged, mind spinning, only babbling out, “Fuck fuck fuck- s’deep. Can feel you so- hngh- good-”
“Yeah? S’good.” Nanami huffs out a laugh at how perfect you were for him. Pussy sucking him up so well that it was impossible to tear his eyes from the sinful sight. “And you still expect me to treat you like a lady?”
Making you wish more and more that the people who always tittered in the coffee room about Nanami being the “perfect gentleman” could see this right now. How he was talking to you so fucking mean and splitting you apart on his cock even meaner.
“Hah- f-fuck you.” And the only thing you can do is pull uselessly at the restraint around your wrist, knowing it’s a pathetic attempt. As if to drive the point deeper, Nanami purposefully pulls you up by the tie, using it as leverage to bounce you back into his thrusts like some fucktoy - his favorite one, of course.
You yelp at the change in angle, his swollen cock dragging so dizzyingly against all the right spots. Pounding into you, deep. Disrespectful - like he promised.
“Fuck me?” he clicks his tongue and scoffs so uncharacteristically. Then again, Nanami was always out of character with you. “Last time I checked, I-” One, harsh thrust. “-was the one fucking you. Like a slut.”
“At least this ‘slut’,” it’s hard to speak with the way he was fucking pushing into your lungs. “Can do a better job than you.” You crane your neck to glare at him as best you could. “You call this fucking?”
Then it’s like something snapped. Several somethings, in fact.
Nanami’s tie, his sanity, you by the end of this.
And before you know it, you’re on your back, splayed out sinfully on top of the desk. Nanami’s heavy cock pulling out just to throw you around how he pleased, immediately burying back into your sloppy pussy like it killed him to stay apart. 
“Little bitch. Always testin’ me.” he’s grunting, drawing urgent, frenzied little patterns on your clit - not even circles because for once in his life, Nanami was too impatient. Too depraved. “Always fuckin’ getting on my nerves with your smart mouth and-” Hips getting so filthy, a rough, maddening tandem. “Slutty lil’ skirts.”
Once he started, Nanami couldn’t stop - he couldn’t stop his movements, so desperate to get you off. And he couldn’t stop his words either.
“Wan’ed this so bad. So fucking bad.” Words slurring. Maddening - like a man possessed. “Cos’ you’re such a fucking bitch n’ I wanted to bend you over and shut you up at every meeting we had. Didn’t care for an audience.”
He’s milking himself on your dripping cunt with reckless abandon, groaning at the way you’re taking each slam of his hips so well. Bruising on your ass, your swollen clit, your mouth as Nanami hisses out little profanities into it. Like a mantra. 
“Mmpf- fuck, K-Ken. S’too much oh my god. Feels so-.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Hey there, Mr. Nanami. M’just here to confirm that the team meeting will be here in five?” A voice, unassuming from outside the door. “Yeah. Jus’ come in then, we’ll be ready in five.” You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - the looming interruption or Nanami’s next words. Cock still unforgiving. Disrespectful. Turning to you as he whispers against your lips, “Better get done, you little slut. Before HR finds out why we have so many debriefs here.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - To kill? To ruin.
“So, you couldn’t kill me. Now what, pretty?”
Your eyes stay locked on the cult leader sat in front of you. The way his inky hair framed that relaxed smile - too relaxed. His arm bruising around your waist, tight to keep you from escaping. Long lashes fluttering so enticingly as he waited for your answer. 
Your target. 
Unfairly beautiful - even with the knife at his throat, his own just inches away from your neck. 
And you don’t know if you’re even breathing - or if he is either. Waiting to see how one word could change everything. How you’d end up killing each other, a bloodbath. Or-
Or how you’d end up spread so shamefully on Geto’s tatami floors, legs dangling off his strong shoulders. Poor pussy so bloated with his cum already. Hands scrambling to grip onto the floor - his biceps - his hair - just anything to keep yourself from losing your fucking sanity while he fucks you like he’s lost his. 
Over and over and- You’ve lost track of time now, it’s been hours, both of you barely lucid at this point. 
“Awww, what happened? Shy?” he’s tutting mockingly in your ear, acting as if you’ve got the capability to form any coherent sentences right now. “N’ you were so feisty earlier.”
“F-fuck ah- you.” you manage to choke out, teary and barely coherent with the hand wrapped around your throat. Only growing tighter with each cute lil’ whine leaving your swollen lips. 
“Ha! Guess you’re still feisty.” Geto lets out a breathy laugh, unsure where to look at - how you were staring up at him with such sultry, defiant eyes or the way your heavenly cunt was sucking him like anything but. Puffy folds bulging obscenely around him. So messy and wet, painted white with this cum. “Feisty enough to gimme another one?”
Hell, Geto doesn’t even know if he can cum again - but that sinful little pool of cum spreading on the floor makes some primal, raw part of himself think he just might will it out of himself. Or die trying. 
Messy. So messy. 
“D-die trying?” you repeat breathlessly, more to yourself than Geto. Oops- had he said that out loud? 
Oh, Geto was having way too much fun with this. Way too much fun with how you were so overstimulated and fucked dumb. Watching as you wonder how you were the one supposed to assassinate him, but might just not make it out alive yourself.  
“Mhm.” he grins, at how cockdrunk you were, squeezing your throat tighter. Blood roaring in your eyes, vision spotty now. “Die trying, or cum f’me first. Your choice.”
He’s fucking you so mean. So hard that you were sure the creases of the tatami mat would be there on your back even tomorrow. Geto’s warm cum dribbling down your legs, nothing but rough, lewd squelches from below. Sloppy and addicting. 
“I- don’t-”
“I d-don’t.” he mocks your delirious little stammers. Biting down on your neck, hard. “Shut up.” Thrusts only getting sharper, more calculated - like it personally offended him you were even able to talk this much. Hand squeezing tighter and tighter- “Jus’ cum if you wanna breathe, pretty.”
“But I don’t think I hngh- can!” you sob, nails clawing at his wrist pathetically. Vision blanking, dripping pussy only sucking him more desperately. 
And Geto really can’t help but spread your swollen folds apart with his thumb, watching the way his seed oozes out of your fluttering hole. A lewd ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips each time he fucks it deeper and deeper. Fingers barely grazing your throbbing clit, so sensitive that even that was too much. 
Cunt so embarrassingly needy that it was almost difficult for Geto to move inside you, milking his cock too well. Too overstimulated. He didn’t care of course - it just made it all the more fun - but oh it made his dick twitch so wildly inside your gummy walls. Balls squeezing painfully as he snaps his hips faster. More purposeful.
Fuck. He’s strong. 
“But-”
 “Just shut up and cum.”
And then you can’t help it - you are. 
Creaming all over Geto’s cock, his unforgiving unforgiving cock. Body moving before your mind as a hand shoots out to grab his pale neck. Dangerous. Wrapping so deliciously as you pull him down, nails digging into skin so hard it could draw blood. 
You didn’t care if you did - would’ve enjoyed it even. Enjoyed it more as you kissed him, hard. 
“Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you, I should kill you.” you wheeze into his open mouth. All tongue and tears, and thick, hot ropes of Geto’s cum. Painting your already-overfilled pussy white, like he’s cumming harder than he has his entire life. Like he hadn’t been pumping your poor cunt full of his seed all these past hours. “I should kill you.”
And you can only take it. 
Only keen at the way his nails leave neat little crescents on your neck, breath coming in short gasps. Geto pushing all the air out of your lungs with each thrust. Each ram of his thick, relentless cock. 
“Yeah. Kill me.” Smirking, voice shot and just dripping with such danger - one that didn’t bode well for your poor cunt. “But only if you aren’t able to cum f’me one more time.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “You seriously like this?”
Those were the first words out of your mouth - bewildered ones, at that. 
Because, sat on top of the fidgeting special grade, pinning him to the ground with your weight, the last thing you expected was to feel his achingly hard erection. Already so damp, and hot against your ass - drawing a sinful little hiss from Choso’s pretty lips as you grinded experimentally against it. 
He liked this.
And you did, too. 
And you certainly didn’t expect to find yourself mere moments later, panties just pushed to the side so you can be split apart on his aching cock. Hands gripping his chest, your hips rocking down against his like such a slut.
“H-hah- fuck fuck fuck, you’re so fucking messy, baby.” Choso lets out a guttural groan, jaw dropping into a soft little oh! at the heavenly sight of his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt. In and out in and out in and-
Cunt clenching at how beautiful he was underneath you - cheeks flushed, dark hair undone, sticking to his forehead as Choso bucks his hips wildly to meet yours. Absolutely wrecked. “Yeah? Look who’s ngh- talking.” you smirk. 
“F-fuck you.”
“Oh?” you taunt. “Last time I checked, I’m hah- the one riding you.”
At your words, he’s huffing softly - so different from how he fucking up into your ravaged cunt a jagged, sharp thrust. Eyes twinkling at the way he knocks all the air out of your lungs with the sheer stretch. Somehow, you have a distinct feeling that if this was his way to shut you up then you really didn’t mind.
“So what?” he spits. Fingers reaching across to roll against your throbbing clit, over and over in hasty little circles. “So what if you’re riding me like a cute lil’ whore? I’m the one oh fuck- messing up your insides.”
And then he’s bucking his wildly up into yours like he’s trying to prove something. Toned pelvis bruising on your own, breath ragged and you’re wondering whether Choso can even remember to breathe. Too focused on marking you up from the inside, feeling the way your plushy cunt squeezes and milks him dry. 
“I could f-flip us over so ngh- fucking easily.” he grunts, breathing ragged. “Take over s-so easily. Take this pretty pussy all I want. But no, y’look too pretty like this, baby.” 
You knew he could. Without even breaking a sweat, in fact, if his iron-hold grip on your hips told you anything. 
Strong - he was so strong. 
“Then why- ah! don’t you?”
You had half the mind to wonder whether Choso let you pin him down just because he wanted to- but you don’t get to ponder about it for too long. Because no sooner has the thought entered your mind before he’s running his mouth. 
“Shit, because I could cum from jus’ this sight.” Talking, like he couldn’t stop. In awe. “Oh? You hah- like being praised, no? Can feel you squeezing the fuckin’ life outta me. Hell, I can ngh- see you.”
And God, it’s so embarrassing the way he could read you so well. Immediately babbling out little praises about how good your gummy walls felt and how pretty you were. How he didn’t give a fuck if this was breaching your regulations as a sorcerer, he could do this forever and ever and-
“Shit!” it’s all you can do to keen and buck desperately as he easily finds that one spot that has you seeing stars. Alternating between hitting that spot with each and every rough thrust, and toying with your swollen clit. “Shut up- shut up shut up-”
You didn’t want him to - and Choso knew that, of course.
He chuckles, “Aww, shy, baby? You don’t have to be.” 
“Fuck you,” you manage to grit out, despite your burning face. Your steadily dwindling sanity. “M’not shy”
He gives your ass a quick smack! before speeding up. You shiver and he thinks you look so pretty, gasping for air as he pushes into your lungs. So pretty that Choso can’t help but pull you into a kiss. 
“Then just let me ruin you. Please, wan’ it so bad. So badly, fuck-” Relentless - barely even a kiss, like he was continuing the fight from before. Teeth and desperation and cries of the other’s name. Looping an arm around your waist to keep you from running - because this might just be the only fight you didn’t want to escape from. “Fuckin’ use me. Just use me.”
It’s like magnetism, not even a hair’s breadth between you two. You don’t know who’s getting filthier - you or Choso. Your hips are stuttering and sloppy, and so are his own. 
Nails raking down his chest, leaving deep, red marks. And he’s marking you in his own way - a little revenge - sharp canines biting down your neck. Intoxicating. Both of you barely even lucid as you chase the other’s high, trying to get them to break first. 
This fight, however, you lose.
Because it only takes one, two harsh thrusts before you’re covering Choso in all your sweet sweet juices. The realization that he looks so pretty with your slick glistening on his abs hitting you before the fact that you squirted. Covering him, dripping off his milky skin. So fucking filthy that it made you feel so sinfully dirty to do something like this on a mission.
And you still are - using him over and over to chase peak after peak on his cock. His thick, relentless cock. One that only twitches dangerously at the sight, a fucked-out little giggle leaving him. 
“Got hngh- o-one win under my belt. Shit, yer’ so pretty, now show me what you can do, lil’ sorcerer.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Unforgiving
“Why should I?” You blink up tearily at the towering monster in front of you - or rather, your king, you should say. Big arms crossed, bare legs spread, his cock buried deep in your dripping pussy, so so hard and angry even after all these hours. Unmoving. “I’m not a toy.”
Not that he’d ever be the king of you. 
But it’s times like this - when he’s looking at you like you’re more a plaything than human, cum dribbling down your legs, poor cunt so overfilled, - is when you think, shit, you might just not make it out alive.
Sukuna grins, “It’s either you do it yourself or nothing. M’not gonna help such a disobedient slut.” 
The only response you give him is such a heated glare, one that does nothing but make his smirk grow wider - cock twitching so ferally inside you. Teasing you for so long before telling you to do it yourself. He liked this.
“Oh but,” he pauses. Looking you right in the eyes as he spits on your pussy once. Twice. Adding to the mess of cum and slick down below, barely giving a fuck about the expensive sheets.
And you didn’t want to like it - you refused to like it. But shit, the way Sukuna smeared his saliva all over your sloppy pussy, stuffed and bulging around his thick cock, had you squirming like such a slut. “I’ll give ya a little help.”
Yeah, he liked this. Loved it, even.
Loved this familiar little song and dance - the way his prettiest lil’ consort was more bark than bite, snapping at him. But so so pliant when you’re split apart on his massive cock, jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head, cunt sucking him up so maddeningly good. Needy for more of his cum. Loved how you don’t even register it - the way you’re grinding and dragging your pussy on his dick. Deeper. Harder. 
Loved how your eyes snap open when you realize, giving him that beautiful stare that told him to “fuck off” a thousand times over.
“Awww, n’ you were having so much fun.” he coos, shutting up whatever insult was on the tip of your tongue with a quick smack! to your ass. “Time f’me to teach you a lil’ lesson, brat.”
And then he’s pounding into you like a madman - heavy balls smacking your skin. Wrapping his big arms around your waist to keep you still, because God he was so mean. So rough. Enough to bruise.
Warm, you were already so warm with his seed, the feeling so addictive that Sukuna can’t help but fuck it deeper and deeper into you. Wanting - needing - nothing more than to give you more. 
“Fuck you.” Is all you can manage to get out. Sukuna’s swollen cock too big, the stretch too sinful, his hips so unforgiving. He always made you feel like such a cumslut. “I d-don’t need to hngh- be taught anything.” 
It’s all that takes for his hands to wrap around your throat, like something snapped. Fingernails sharp, right over your racing pulse. He could kill you. And oh it was like you were asking for it, too - but he wouldn’t. Can’t. Instead crashing his lips onto yours, shutting you up before you dug your grave even deeper.
“So mouthy. Such a shame this heavenly pussy is on such a fucking bitch.” he nips at your bottom lip, teasing. Dangerous. “I should kill you right now for your disrespect.” Suddenly so much meaner with his thrusts, so calculated and controlled. Bucking his hips up wildly to hit that one spot he knew too well. Over and over and- “But I won’t.”
Shing! 
You never dared to come to the king’s chambers unprepared, of course.
“Then I will.” you held that sharpened comb to his neck. Sharp, digging ever-so-slightly into this skin. Pathetic in comparison to his nails, you knew, but something - anything - to keep this monster in check. 
But Sukuna saw - he saw that little wobble in your lips, the way your hands falter minutely when he laughs. Laughs like he didn’t have an impromptu knife to his neck right now, like this cute lil’ human wasn’t the first one in eons to pose a threat to his life. 
Because he knew.
He could feel it - the way your dripping cunt squeezing his achig cock, rocking to meet his merciless cadence. Eyes glassy, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, so fucking needy and on the edge. And he wondered if you knew - what a perfect little slut you were being for him. Exactly what he’s been looking for. 
“Oh shut up.” Sukuna murmurs, hot against ear. “You can’t kill me, you pathetic little human.”
“I can.”
And because you don’t know what’s good for you, you’re holding the knife tighter to his neck, wondering how the hell you haven’t drawn blood yet. Close. Just one flick of the wrist. So close.
His fingers snake down to your swollen clit, pressing down. Hard. 
“Stop actin’ up n’ just cum f’me.”
And it was so embarrassing. Embarrassing the way he couldn’t bat a lash at your pathetic attempt to take down the king of curses. Embarrassing how that’s all it takes for you to see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears as you cum so desperately around his cock. 
You all but scream Sukuna’s name - just a strangled, breathy mess of moans and tears. So fucking overstimulated that it hurt so good. 
Sukuna wasn’t any better - though, he’d never admit it. But you were so pretty for him, all teary whines and your tight pussy trying so greedily to milk the soul out of him, that he just can’t help but cum. 
“Fuck fuck fuck. Take it.” Balls squeezing painfully, dick twitching wildly. Again and again, sloppily pumping thick, hot ropes into your quivering pussy. “You don’t fuckin’ deserve it- but hah- take it-”
And you’re so cockdrunk and dizzy with the feeling of him filling you up - dripping down your legs, pooling in a sinful little patch underneath you - that you barely even feel the nails tightening around your throat. Knife knocked to the ground. Though, you think you’re so delirious that you might not have minded either way.
“Tried to kill your lord, huh?” Sharp. Dangerous. “I think you need more than jus’ one lesson, brat.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Liar liar
Now, Gojo loved your smart mouth. 
Ever since those glory days from high school - he always has. He loved how it was always ready with a bitchy comment about his blindfold and an even bitchier smirk afterward. Always so hot-headed, always so fucking gorgeous. 
But Gojo loved your mouth even more when it was just inches away from his, telling him to just shut the fuck up before “Yaga hears and realizes that two of his teachers have gone missing.”
Oh, you looked so pretty for him all splayed out over your desk, papers askew, office door just closed - but not locked. Your pretty cunt so messy and just dripping through your panties already. He just couldn’t help but tease you a little bit. 
“Does it matter?” he hums, pulling the drenched fabric aside just enough to drag his leaking tip up and down your puffy cunt. Barely teasing your sloppy slit. Hands just everywhere, goosebumps racing down where your skirt was flipped up.
“Of course it fucking-”
“Ah ah.” he interrupts your little rant. Breath hot against your mouth, “Someone might hear.”
God you could fucking smack him right now - not that it would be of any use, of course, with limitless. But you had a nagging little feeling that Gojo would turn it off for the moment, just to feel that cute smack against his face anyway. “Fuck you, Satoru.”
Instead, you’re crashing your lips onto his. So filthy with the way it’s just a mess of teeth and saliva - seething. Barely even noticing the way you’re pulling his angry, throbbing cock closer, heels digging into his slutty waist. 
“You’re all big talk but you’re just a-” he’s reeling his hips back, so filthy on purpose with the way he’s letting his weeping head smear precum all over your hips. “-desperate little-” Fat cock surging forward to stretch at your swollen folds. “-slut.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, m’fucking you.”
Nothing more is said before Gojo’s bullying his massive cock into your tight pussy. Head falling into the crook of your neck with a low groan as he ruts into you in jagged, tight little thrusts.
Like he wanted to tear you apart. Like he was holding back. 
“F-fuck. M’not a fucking-” you moan at the burning stretch. So delicious with the way he was drawing quick, methodical little circles on  your throbbing clit. “Slut.”
Because of course you couldn’t keep your mouth shut - not even when Gojo was fucking you dumb on his cock. 
And it’s all you can do to just sit there and take it as he thrusts his hips harder. It almost felt like he’d deemed you unworthy of allowing you to adjust. Hands locking around your hips to sit you all pretty on the desk while he slides his cock in and out in and out in and-
“Fucking liar.” 
“Wh-what?”
“This one-” Gojo draws his hand back ever-so-slightly from your poor, abused clit. Palm facing your sloppy pussy like he was going to-
Smack!
“-is honest with me.”
You don’t even know if you’re in the proper state of mind to respond to that - and you don’t even want to try. To embarrass yourself. As if the way you were letting out strangled gasps of Gojo’s name, hips bucking wildly, wasn’t pathetic enough. 
“God, you love this, huh?” he’s panting, like the way your gummy walls were squeezing the ever-loving life out of his thick cock had broken open some dam. “Shit. Do you even realize how much you love this?” he glances down at your messy pussy. Your sweet sweet juices smearing and spreading in a lewd little pool on the table below. “Sweetheart, you’re just drooling everywhere.”
And as if that wasn’t unfair enough, Gojo goes suspiciously quiet for a beat. One. Two. 
Before spitting a steady stream of saliva to the mess down below, awestruck at the way your cunt clenches and quivers like such a slut. 
“Hngh- oh my god. T-Toru. Fuck!”
“See? Ya love it.” he’s speeding up. And you don’t know what’s more erratic - his fingers on your swollen cunt, so frenzied they were like a blur, or his hips. Leaving marks with how mean he was being. Merciless. Fucking merciless. Massaging all the right spots inside, no reason or rhyme. “Fucking liar, so pretty takin’ all of me. Can’t even handle me properly.” Running on just the thought of you and getting you off and you you you-
Smack!
“Did ya know you try to squeeze the soul out of me every time I smack this cute lil’ pussy?” he chuckles, the complete opposite of how his cock was so mean. “She can’t get enough of me. Really love this cock, huh?”
You grit out, “I fuckin’ hate you-”
And as if to prove something, he’s giving your swollen pussy another smack! Right over where your clit was so pulsing and angry. White-hot shocks of pleasure going all the way from Gojo’s fingertips to your hazy mind. 
“She might just love me as much as you do.”
And when you cum, you’re cumming so hard you didn’t know whether you’d make it out alive. Riding your high on Gojo’s unforgiving cock. Wave after wave that have you so cockdrunk and delirious that you’re worried that someone could-
Click! “Is anyone-”
Your back hits the mattress before you can react - before you even think to wonder what the fuck just happened. Before the smell of pine and candy hits your senses and it hits you that shit those navy blankets look too familiar. 
“Satoru…” you glance up from Gojo’s bed at the man himself looming over you. Cock still buried so deep in your cunt, rocking so hard into you that the mattress creaks in protest. You can barely choke out, “D-did you just hah- teleport us-”
“Yeah.” he sounded so infuriatingly smug. “Decided m’not letting you go till you start being as honest as this cute pussy.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
4K notes · View notes
florencemtrash · 3 days
Text
Take it Off - Azriel x Reader
Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?
Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him
Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes
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Is this a fucking game to you?
Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.
Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 
I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.
Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 
You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 
The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 
But that was his own fault. 
You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 
No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 
Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 
“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 
You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 
His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 
As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 
Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 
No.
  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.
You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 
Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.
“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 
You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.
You held one up for a better look. 
“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 
“I have more just like them.” 
You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 
Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 
“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 
“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 
“It’s nothing.”
“I doubt that.” 
There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 
He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 
You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 
“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 
Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 
“Yes… I know.” 
How long do you think he’ll last?
Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.
Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 
Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.
Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 
Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 
He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 
It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 
He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 
I give it another week. Nesta declared.
Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.
In the end they were both wrong. 
It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.
“Take it off.” 
You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 
“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 
Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 
“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 
It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 
Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 
He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 
“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 
“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 
“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 
“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 
Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 
“I’m… going to leave now.”
“Wait—Feyre!” 
The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 
Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 
She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 
It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.
Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 
I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 
I won the bet, Nes.
You didn’t win, we both lost!
Semantics. 
Why you bas—
Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 
“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 
Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 
You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 
He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 
“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.
“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 
He flinched at that word — friend.
“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 
“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.
“Clearly it’s not nothing.”
“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”
You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.
“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 
His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.
“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 
“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”
That was… not what you were expecting.
You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 
“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 
“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 
Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”
Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”
You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 
“Well?” You snapped. 
Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 
You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”
“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 
“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”
“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 
You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 
Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”
“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 
“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 
Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 
When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 
“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 
Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 
Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 
His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 
But his hands. 
His hands. 
You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 
He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.
This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 
You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 
He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 
You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.
Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 
Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.
You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.
Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 
“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 
He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.
“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 
“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 
One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 
Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 
“I’m so sorry—” 
“Azriel, it’s ok.” 
“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 
“You can buy me more.”
Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 
He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 
Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 
He couldn’t help himself. 
He started laughing too. 
What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 
Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 
“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 
Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 
Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 
Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 
“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 
His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 
“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 
You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”
“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 
“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 
“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 
Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!
His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.
“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 
A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 
“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 
Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”
Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 
“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 
The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 
He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 
His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 
All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 
You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 
A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 
“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.
He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 
“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 
“We’re not going to my bedroom.”
“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 
He didn’t respond.
Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 
Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 
“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”
He smiled. “Only for you.” 
“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”
“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 
“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.
“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 
Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.
"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.
"Ready."
You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 
1K notes · View notes
neil-gaiman · 2 days
Note
This isn’t a question, but I want to thank you for your books and how they’ve impacted my life.
Over thirteen years ago, I read Neverwhere for the first time and it changed what kind of writer I wanted to be. I went on to read more of your books—my other two favourites were The Graveyard Book and The Ocean at the End of the Lane.
About 11 or so years ago, I asked you on Twitter if I could read Stardust on a Twitch livestream, and you responded, “Fine by me”. It was one of my best streams, and while life got in the way of me doing more, I still remember it incredibly fondly.
Ten years ago I had a baby, and while he was an infant, I read him, Fortunately, the Milk, in an attempt to read him a book. He didn’t seem interested. I decided I’d try again some other time perhaps. But I did resolve to get him to read The Graveyard Book someday.
Nine years ago, when I was a mother of a one-year-old, I posted a status on Facebook simply saying, “We do not forget.”
Two years ago, I went on holiday, and I downloaded the audio book version of The Graveyard Book from our local library. My eight-year-old son listened to it as he fell asleep, though he ended up missing some parts, and we shelved it.
Last year, he read Coraline and didn’t like it. That isn’t your fault. He read Charlotte’s Web and didn’t like that either. He just didn’t quite have the understanding for them.
This year, he read Coraline and liked it. I told him it was from the same author as The Graveyard Book. He lamented that he never finished The Graveyard Book, and I said he could always download it from the library again.
Then about a month ago, he and I went through a tough time. I was really stressed about life, he wasn’t doing so well either, and our relationship got strained. I was angry with him all the time. I needed a break from him, or I thought I did. But one day when he was at his dad’s I realised that I wouldn’t get this time back. That I needed to fix it. So I asked him if he wanted me to read to him at bedtime. Just like when he was little. And we settled on The Graveyard Book.
On nights when he got to bed on time, I’d read a chapter. It often meant stretching past bedtime, but I could never stop halfway. It had been years since I’d read it too, and I found myself remembering things I’d forgotten. I’d watch his dark eyes widen whenever things got exciting, and I loved when he would interrupt me with an important revelation. “It’s Scarlett! His friend!” he’d say. “The dog! The grey dog!” “I know what Silas is!” He would tell me that I did the voices so well, that it seemed to match each character so perfectly.
We didn’t read every night, but it was a treat when we did. One night we had an argument and he told me he hated me. That he wished I was dead. And that he wanted to be with his dad. I told him to go take a shower, and that I’d ask his dad to come get him. His dad said no, but agreed to talk to him on the phone. After the shower, my son apologised for what he said. I said okay, and told him to call his dad to chat. After their call, he asked if we would still have story time. I asked if he preferred that or to have some space. He said he wanted both, but wanted story time more than space. So I read to him. It was the chapter when Bod and Silas argued, and then apologised to each other. Halfway through that chapter, my son asked for snuggles. I said, what happened to space? And he said, “I want snuggles more than space.”
We were sad when it ended. We finished it last weekend. I cried as I read it. But it was a beautiful sadness. We’ve talked about it a bit since then, to process it. He says he would like to read more about Silas and Bod’s adventures and asked if there was fan fiction about it. I told him to look, and to write some if there wasn’t. Perhaps I’ll write some too, just for him.
Last night he was at his dad’s and I was browsing Facebook and sent him a couple of his old pictures. Then I found an old post. From exactly nine years ago. And so I sent it to him.
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It brought tears to my eyes. I did not remember making that post, and I’ve forgotten a great deal over the years, but I hope I do not forget these little moments with my son. But even if I do, I have them written down here to remind me again.
And thank you. For the words you’ve written and the impact you’ve had on our lives and hearts. I hope that your life holds the same amount of joy and love that you’ve given to others with your words.
That made me so happy. Thank you. I hope you and your son keep growing together.
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Alley Chat (Dp x dc)
Danny leaned on the dirty alleyway walls, his head down, as he tried to stave off tears. Taking one more shaky breath, he did his best to let it out slowly.
“You’re fine,” he gasped. 
Then, one more gulp, “You’re safe.”
And then, “Breathe.”
“C’mon just-“ he heaved in a breath, “breathe goddammit.” 
Then he tilted his head backwards as his eyes slid shut. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, his heart-rate finally slowing down.
He brushed away the wet of his cheeks with the rag he’d shoved in his barista apron earlier. Figuring it was already ruined as it was he blowed his nose in it as well. Now if he could just splash his face with cold water, he’d be almost as new.
He reached for the stick of gum he knew he’d left in the bigger pocket only to freeze as he felt something smoother under his fingers. The card from earlier.
“This is for you,” his father had said, looking more unsure of himself than Danny had ever seen him. “Danny-o…”
“We’re sorry, Danny,” his mother had taken over, and there had been tears in her eyes. “We’re so sorry, we didn’t know-“
“You can’t be here,” Danny had said calmly enough, though his hand had been shaking.
“Danny-“ his mom had started, as she had reached towards him and Danny just couldn’t do this.
He had felt his pulse in his ear, his chest constricting and he hadn’t been able to think past the need to get out, out, out.
There’d been bright light, and then he had been away from the noise, and he had ran until he couldn’t breathe. 
And here he was getting pushed to the precipice by a fucking card.
“No,” he told himself but his eyes were already watering. “No,” he choked out, fruitlessly.
“Goddamit,” he hiccuped as tears began to fall. And then it was as if the dam had broken. Every single tear he’d managed to repress were now coming back twofold. His whole body was wrecked by big heaving sobs and he had a moment to be glad he’d found himself a secluded place to have his fit in peace.
“Oh, buddy,” he heard from behind just as the thought registered.
He turned around to find a guy in a skintight red suit looking at him.
“Are you ok?” The guy said before rallying. “That’s a dumb question, isn't it.”
The halfa just looked at the man.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Danny shook his head. He was actively trying not to think about it.
“Is it ok if I stay here ?”
Danny was too drained to care about a stranger witnessing this, so he raised his shoulders.
“I can talk if you don’t want to, I’ve been told I’m quite the motormouth.”
The man let a bit of silence pass before apparently he decided that was an agreement and he started blathering on about- rainbows was it?”
“-sure if compared against the big fishes, Rainbow Raider is far from the worst but I just can’t get over how petty his reason to turn to crime is. I’m not saying being colour blind would make being an artist easy but it doesn’t make impossible. Beethoven was deaf and look at him now! Ok that was poorly phrased, but you get what I meant-“
And on he went, talking about anything that was going through his head it seemed.
As it went on, Danny realized his hands had stopped shaking and there was a tugging at his lips that was ever so slight, but near miraculous so soon after his cry session.
“-where does the iron even come from? Like do spinach plants just make it? What does a spinach plant look like for that matter? I’m picturing like a salad plant but where do the stalks come from then,” the man hummed before there was a sound like a TV’s white noise and the man straightened. After a moment, he turned towards Danny and gave him a smile.
“I’m gonna have to run,” he said. “I’m not often in the neighborhood, so we might not meet again, so I wish you best of luck, bud.”
Another brilliant smile and he turned away.
Danny jumped forward in time to stop the man’s immediate departure. Said man turned to give Danny a quizzical look.
“Thank you,” said Danny painfully sincere.
The man’s face softened in a smile for a moment and then he was gone.
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fefern · 3 days
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✧˖° first dates with them. | lingyang, m!rover, jiyan headcanons.
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⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: going on a first date is always nerve wracking, yet can also be exciting! what's it like for these boys to take you out on your first date together?
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): lingyang, male rover, jiyan, and a gender neutral reader.
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello! coming to you live with my first post for wuwa! just some cute little headcanons with the boys on first dates with you because i love planning dates out ;;!! requests are open if you want to talk or have me write something!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
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Lingyang
Lingyang has never been more excited or nervous to hang out with someone, even more so since this was his first date with you. 
As someone who always seemed to fear being different from the humans around him, he felt extra self-conscious when he looked in the mirror and adjusted his outfit. Did he look alright? Were you going to enjoy this as much as he thought he would? Will everything go well? What if you decided you changed your mind and didn’t want to date someone of his species?
His first date gift for you would be a small lion plushie. Cute and fluffy with vibrant colors, he’d hold it out in front of him and shut his eyes tight, anxiety flowing through him. “These are for you! That way, when you miss me, you can hug this! If you want to, no pressure!” 
He’d be ecstatic when you took it into your hands and held it throughout your date together, happily looking between you and the plush and feeling his cheeks turn a rosy pink that you two were going out together. 
He’d probably take you to the best food spots all around Jinzhou, ranting about which dishes to try or who had his favorite foods. He’d want to get to know you more, curious and nervous as he’s asking you about your likes, dislikes, what your daily life is like in Jinzhou. Lingyang would walk and eat with you along the way, practically enamored by anything you did or said. 
His tail would swish fast back and forth whenever you were talking. Even if it’s something you found mundane, he couldn’t help but be happy just listening to you speak. His ears will also be very reactive around you, usually up but always reacting accordingly to whenever you’d tell a story or joke with him. 
He’ll let you pet him if you want to, he trusts you after all. His cheeks flush a soft pink and he lets out a small purr when you do so, finding himself growing a bit shyer at the sweet touch. He also feels a tad embarrassed by it, so you’ll have to pry his hands away as he childishly hides the way he’s turning red from you. 
He seems a little bit sad when you two do have to part, but when you ask him when the next one would be, a hopeful look emerges in his eyes as he begins to excitedly make plans to see you again and take you on another date. 
Other Points:  - Will jump in place when super excited to tell you something while on the date.  - Would point to some random cute things on your walk and go, “That reminds me of you!” - Happy to talk about lion dancing with you, and if you show more interest in it, he’ll offer to give you your own personal show one day!
Rover (Male)
Considering he is a person that just woke up in a strange world with no memories of his past or who he is, he is a bit lost on the idea of what to do during a date with you. Were there rules he had to follow? Did people in Jinzhou have certain taboos or ways that they executed dates?
He’d most likely ask all around the city in order to find out what to do or where to take you. He wanted to make sure the experience was good after all, not something that the both of you would dread. 
When he meets up with you, his hair is a bit more put together than usual and he stands up tall, giving you a small smile as he gently takes your arm and links it with his. 
“Take me around the city. Show me how you see the world through your eyes.”
His first date gift would be a small box of candy. I could definitely see Rover as being a person who likes small sweet treats as a guilty pleasure, and he’d want to share them with you as a way of connecting you with something that you love. 
He’s calm throughout most of your stroll, browsing through stores or looking around in quiet curiosity as you show him little nooks and crannies of the city. He enjoyed hearing how you would describe stores or fixate on different areas of the city that he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to before. 
He makes a mental note of the places that you like so that for your next date, you two could come back to them. Rover is already a few steps ahead in terms of thinking where he wants to go with you or what he wants to do. 
When you’re done showing him the city, he’ll give you a kind, endearing look and smile at you. He’ll take a moment to just admire you, shifting some of your hair out of your face and enjoy being in your presence before ultimately, it is time to part ways. He’ll wave you off, thanking you for everything and giving him a tour, before he smiles to himself like a fool and turns to head back to his quarters. 
Other Points: - Probably would be looking at you more than the city.  - Fast walker, so you’d have to keep up the pace. Apologies if he’s going too fast and happens to catch you struggling. - Will inquire about certain places just to listen to you talk. 
Jiyan
As the general of the Midnight Rangers that conducts himself in a poised, righteous manner, he’d be the most classy out of all the people to take you out on a date. 
Jiyan’s got a busy schedule as the head of such an important group in Jinzhou, but after bonding with you and asking you out he wanted to ensure that he carved out time in advance for just you and him to spend an afternoon together. 
He’d take you to a fancy restaurant in Jinzhou, the best money can buy. He’d be sure to pick you up from your place and walk with you to the restaurant. When you open the door, he’s standing in front of you with his hair slicked back and ponytail waving a bit in the wind, his clothes pristine and ironed out to look his absolute best in front of you. 
His present for you is a bouquet of flowers he made himself. He enlisted the help of his mom for this one, catching up with her about medical practices as he puts together the best pecok, irises, and poppies that he could find when he was out on his rounds into a pretty bouquet just for you. It’s wrapped up with brown paper and has a nice aqua bow on it, matching his hair.
When you get to the restaurant, he’ll look at the menu with you and ask you to order anything your heart desires. He already knows what he wants to eat, and will quietly look at you with a softened expression as you begin choosing what you want. He finds the way you handle yourself beautiful, even if it’s through simple things like ordering food. 
Jiyan will happily eat anything you don’t end up finishing. He doesn’t want to waste money, and he also cannot deny that the way you ask him to finish your plate was cute. He’ll work it off anyways with the amount of fighting and training he does, so he doesn’t mind. 
Will pay for the meal. No splitting or you paying, as much as you might plead and beg.
Will take you back to your place and entertain any questions you may have for him, whether it be about his past, missions he’s been on, or just about his duties as general of the Midnight Rangers. When he drops you off, he’d take the back of your hand and gently place a kiss on it before standing up straight and giving you a small smile, wishing you a goodnight. 
Other Points: - Will hold all your belongings so your hands are free and light. Does not matter how heavy or how much you have, he will refuse to let you “labor” like that, as he puts it.  - Admires your personality and the way you hold yourself when you speak. - Has a strong desire to protect you; always subconsciously keeping an eye out for any danger even though it’s daylight out.
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likeumeanit9497 · 2 days
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watch | m.s. |
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
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summary: after hearing you confess all of your insecurities to him, matt makes it his mission to have you see yourself the way that he sees you.
warnings: established relationship smut; fluff; mentions of body insecurities; hint of disordered eating; fingering (f receiving); dirty talk; choking; 18+
notes: i dreamt up this smut last night and immediately got to writing because it felt a little too real. i also knew it was gonna be a shorter one shot (compared to all of my others) so decided to try out second person narration rather than first person. i still can't decide which is better, so pls let me know which u all prefer to read. i hope ya'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed dreaming ab it ;)))
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
With Mac Miller playing softly from Matt’s tv, you sighed to yourself as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. You took a moment to inspect your appearance in the full length mirror that you had been getting ready in front of, and felt like you didn’t recognize the girl in the reflection. For some reason, you were having a bad everything day. You had started getting ready by doing your hair, and it just wouldn’t fall right once you had finished styling it. Moving on to makeup, you had struggled with making your eyeliner match and all of your base makeup looked splotchy; it was like nothing was sitting the way it should on your skin.
Filled with frustration, you were tempted to tell Matt to cancel the dinner reservation, scrub everything off your face, and tuck yourself in his bed for the rest of the night. But you wouldn’t do that, because he had been so excited about planning your date night all by himself.
You and Matt had been dating for a few months, and had built a relationship filled with the perfect combination of comfort and excitement. Even though you both lived apart, there was rarely a day when you and him were not doing something together — whether that be just laying in his bed watching movies all day, or going on a random adventure in the middle of nowhere. You could never grow tired of being around him, but for some reason your insecurities in your appearance were so severe today that you almost felt like you wanted to hide yourself from him.
As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your creasing concealer under your eyes, Matt walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You look pretty,” He started, heading towards his closet to pick out an outfit. “You about ready?” You watched him through the mirror as he put on a pair of boxers, feeling a lump form in your throat at how undeniably beautiful he looked. You were hit with the realization that his looks so clearly outshined your own, and hated the idea of other people recognizing that whenever you two went out together.
Trying to get the negative thoughts out of your mind so that he wouldn’t have reason to worry, you cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah I am. I just have to get dressed.” After buttoning his jeans, he looked at you through the mirror and smiled warmly. “Everything okay baby?” He must have noticed the tension in your brow, or the slight downturn of your lips, but you nodded reassuringly. “Yeah of course, I’m just not really feeling my makeup.” You added a chuckle to the end of your sentence, hoping to make him believe that it was just a light hearted confession. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I think it looks perfect.” He said softly into your hair, and you forced a smile onto your lips.
You walked over to the clothing rack that Matt had put in his room for you so that you could leave a variety of your clothes at his place for when you stayed over. Scanning your options, you skipped over all of your more bold pieces — knowing your head space was far too vulnerable tonight to mess around with any of them — and decided on your favourite black Skims dress. It had never failed you in the past, and you tried to reassure yourself with this fact as you removed your oversized t-shirt and replaced it with the soft dress.
Your positive attitude was gone just as quickly as it arrived once you began to examine yourself in the mirror. From the front your body looked okay, but as soon as you turned to the side you grimaced at the sight of your bloated stomach from the massive deli sandwich Matt had bought you for lunch earlier. The thin, tight material of the dress did nothing but accentuate the swell in your lower stomach, and you wanted to scream out in frustration. Maybe if your hair and makeup had worked in your favour the bloating wouldn’t have bothered you so much, but because everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong, it was enough to cause tears to well in your eyes.
As you stood in front of the mirror fighting the tears from spilling over, Matt noticed the sheen in your eyes and your wobbly chin and raced over to you. “Hey hey hey! What’s wrong baby?” He asked, his voice laced with a hint of panic. You shook your head rapidly. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.” Your voice was thick with emotion, and it made you even more angry with yourself as you knew this whole thing was stupid. “It’s clearly not nothing if you’re crying, Y/n.” He turned you around so that you were face to face with him; concern evident in his furrowed brow and racing eyes. “Tell me what’s going on sweetheart.” His voice was soft, and he rubbed his hands along your bare arms reassuringly.
You sighed and brought a shaky hand to your eye; trying to dab away any fallen tears in a weak attempt to not ruin your shitty makeup. “It’s stupid Matt.” You wined, not wanting to tell him your insecurities out of fear that speaking of them might make him suddenly see them just as clearly as you did. “Y/n, please.” He begged, desperate to try and help you. Groaning, you finally obliged; your voice barely above a whisper as you confessed. “I just hate everything about the way I look today, that’s all.” Matt stared at you with a blank expression as he took in your words, and you waited in silence — nervous to hear his response.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Y/n.” He sounded almost angry in his response, and it caused you to bite your lip nervously as you shrugged. “Nothing turned out the way I wanted it to when I got ready today, plus you’ve been feeding me too much lately and it’s been making me bloated.” You explained further, and watched as his eyes travelled from your face down to your body. “Baby, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said, and you rolled your eyes. “You have to say that, it’s one of the unwritten rules of being someone’s boyfriend.” A dry laugh escaped your lips, and Matt moved his hand to the back of your head.
“You think I’m lying?” He asked, his tone of voice mildly threatening and absolutely serious. So serious in fact, that the weak smile left your lips and you could do nothing but stare blankly at his face; unsure of how you should answer. He tilted his head quizzically, clearly still waiting for a response. Tentatively, you nodded your head yes as a singular tear fell down your cheek. Matt’s eyes softened. “Oh baby.” He breathed before pressing his lips softly against yours. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he began deepening the kiss — turning it into one filled with passion without losing its gentle nature. Delicately, his tongue skated across your lips; requesting access to your mouth without demanding it. You released a soft whimper from his tender movements as his hands travelled down to your ass; massaging it gently through the thin material of your dress.
“Turn around.” He ordered against your mouth, and you immediately obliged. Now facing the mirror, he stood behind you with his hands planted firmly on your shoulders. Into your ear, he spoke. “You are the most beautiful person that I have ever laid my eyes on, and I need you to know that.” His words — overflowing with emotion — caused goosebumps to cover your skin. Using both of his hands, he grabbed each thin strap of your dress and slowly peeled them off your shoulders. Not stopping there, he used his grip on the straps to pull the dress completely off your body — creating a puddle of dark material at your feet.
“Look at you, Y/n.” His hands moved across your upper body; exploring every square inch of your skin as he held you in front of the mirror. You shuddered from his touch; his hands lighting your body on fire as they glided across it. He grabbed your breasts in both hands, massaging them slowly as he planted a kiss to the top of your shoulder. “You might see flaws when you look at yourself in the mirror, but I don’t. And I never have.” His hands moved down to your hips, squeezing them slightly. “I think I just have to show you what I see, and then maybe you’ll change your mind.”
Dropping one more kiss to your flushed skin, he walked you forward a few steps towards the mirror, before using his hands to guide you to the floor. Knees tucked into your chest, he sat behind you and pulled all of your hair over to one side before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “Open your legs baby.” You gulped before obliging, sliding your legs apart but keeping your knees bent. Your bare chest rose and fell rapidly, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. You titled your head to the side out of embarrassment of having your legs spread in front of the mirror — with only your small pink thong covering you. Noticing this, Matt brought a hand to your jaw, grabbing it firmly and straightening your head back in the direction of the mirror. “You are breathtaking, Y/n. I don’t want you to look away.” As he spoke, he moved his hand from your jaw down to your breast, holding it firmly as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nipple. “Keep your eyes on the mirror.” He whispered before taking his free hand and sliding your panties to the side.
Your eyes planted firmly on your glistening core as he used two fingers to spread it open. You watched as your arousal began leaking from your slit, and your jaw dropped in ecstasy as he collected the fluid on his fingers. His eyes connected to yours in the mirror as he brought his wet fingers up to your lips. Confused, you furrowed your brow. “Even your insides are beautiful. Taste yourself.” He urged, and his words stirred up something within you. Slowly, you opened your mouth and immediately felt his fingers press against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around his middle and ring fingers; sucking your own sweet juices off of them and moaning at the heat of the scenario as his eyes burned into yours through the reflection in the mirror.
“Good girl.” He praised once you released his fingers, before moving them back down to your throbbing core. As soon as his fingers connected with your clit, you released a breathy moan and screwed your eyes shut in relief. “Open your eyes sweetheart, and look at how fucking beautiful you look.” He demanded sweetly into your ear, making it impossible for you to even consider disobeying him. Through your droopy eyelids you watched, mouth agape, as his ringed fingers massaged your bundle of nerves; their circular motions hypnotizing you. You also took a moment to admire your body as it writhed in anticipatory pleasure — your sweat-coated breasts heaving as you gasped for breath. Matt rested his chin on your shoulder — his left hand still caressing your tits — as he watched in awe at your various expressions of pleasure.
“Look at your pretty pink pussy, baby. And look how unbelievably beautiful you look when you bite your lip. God, I could cum in my pants just from watching you feel good.” His words were equal parts sweet and filthy in your ears, and they added to the pleasure you felt building up within you. Suddenly, his left hand moved from your tits down your stomach and towards your core. You watched in awe as he swirled two fingers around your opening teasingly, and practically screamed out once he slammed them into you. Wasting no time, his curled fingers pumped in and out of you rapidly, hitting your spongey g-spot each time.
“F-fuck Matty, feels so good.” You managed to get out through breathless moans. “Mmm.” He purred, “Looks so good too, doesn’t it? Your pretty juices like honey dripping from my fingers. Tell me how pretty it looks.” You whined before obliging. “I-it’s so pretty.” You watched his reflection as he shook his head and smirked. “Good baby, but it’s not just your juices. It’s you that’s so pretty. Say it.” As he waited for your response, he nipped delicately at your neck. “I-I’m s-so pretty.” Your voice was shaky as your mind was overtaken by your impending orgasm that was very quickly approaching. You felt Matt’s lips turn up in a smile against your neck. “That’s right. And just wait till you cum princess, there’s nothing more beautiful than that.” His words caused your walls to flex around his pumping fingers and your stomach tensed from the familiar feeling.
“G-gonna cum baby.” You cried out, tucking your chin into your shoulder and arching your back off of his chest as your orgasm began to roll through your body. Suddenly, Matt pulled his fingers out of your core and grabbed onto your throat, gently straightening your head up once again. “Watch yourself cum, Y/n.” He rasped into your ear and you watched through blurred vision as your fucked out face contorted into one filled with pleasure as your orgasm tore through your body. Still rubbing your clit at full tilt, Matt filled the space between you both with muttered praises; his eyes firmly planted to your face as he almost fell apart himself from the view in front of him.
Once you came down from your high, Matt wrapped both of his arms tightly around you; leaving small kisses on your skin as he waited for you to catch your breath. “I don’t ever want you to have negative thoughts about yourself like that ever again.” He stated as he rubbed your soft skin gently. Still waiting for the fog around your fucked out brain to clear, you could do nothing more than hum in acknowledgment. “I mean it, Y/n. I get that having insecurities is normal, but, when I look at you, I swear to god I can’t see a single flaw.” Your eyes fluttered open and connected with his in the mirror. “You are perfect, Y/n. And I’m not just saying that.” Giving him a small smile, your heart did leaps in your chest at his heartfelt testament. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and when you took a moment to look at yourself again in the mirror, you realized that maybe he did have a point.
Even through your makeup, your cheeks were filled with a lively glow that wasn’t there before. Your eyes seemed to glisten in the light, and your lips were swollen and pink. You would have expected your hair to be messed up, but Matt’s hands running through it had actually made it fall exactly they way you had hoped it would when you were styling it. You still struggled with your bloating, but flashbacks of your body squirming sensually under Matt’s touch — and the residual satisfaction of your orgasm a reminder of just how good your body could feel — allowed you to find a new appreciation for it. Feeling a lump form in your throat just as it had when you tried on your black dress — this time for an entirely different reason — you gazed adoringly at Matt. “Thank you baby.” You whispered before turning around and planting a deep kiss to his lips.
“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.” He responded, both of his hands on either side of your face so he could stare at it up close. “You think you’re up for dinner still? Because let me tell you, you’re on a whole other level of sexy when you’re shovelling steak into your mouth.” You erupted into giggles at this, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m serious.” He continued, his voice filled with laughter. “You think I have blue balls now, just wait until after dinner. They might explode.” You shoved his shoulders playfully at this, and hoisted yourself up to your feet to find your discarded dress. “You add a lobster to my dinner plate, and I might just be able to help you out with that on our way back.”
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
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incognit0slut · 2 days
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omg neeeed a spencer fic based off of lunch by billie eilish, i feel like that song definitely suites him 😭
Being cornered in the filing room was the last thing you expected when Spencer asked you out for lunch.
Warnings: (18+) oral (f), semi-public (they’re at work) ~1.6k words
A/n: Ty anon I've been listening to this song nonstop and now I have a reason to use it for munch Spence, ily
“What do you want to eat for lunch?” you asked, striding through the bullpen with Spencer at your side. He had a hand on your lower back, and you couldn't help but wonder why he was being so touchy at work when he was usually the one insisting on professionalism. Not that you were complaining; you’d take any small gesture of his affection.
“How about that new sushi place around the corner?” you suggested, leaning into him slightly. “I could go for a salmon skin roll.”
He remained unusually silent, and as you exited through the glass doors, you frowned when he guided you away from the elevator. “What—” you began, looking up at him as he led you down the hallway. “Where are you taking me?”
His silence was starting to unnerve you. He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before pulling you into the filing room and shutting the door behind you.
“Spencer,” you hissed, eyes darting around the room. “What are you—”
Before you could finish, his lips were on yours, pressing you against the door. His hands cupped your face, holding you in place as he kissed you with a fervor that left you breathless. You hadn’t realized just how much his kisses could affect you until you started dating him—each one was deep, passionate, and downright knee-weakening.
When he finally pulled away, you clung to his arms for balance, your mind reeling. “What was that for?”
He grinned mischievously. “I’m hungry.”
You blinked, confused. “So you decided to eat my face?”
He chuckled, leaning in to peck your lips again. "That was just the appetizer." His hands trailed down your body, and when you felt him run his palm down your legs, you knew you were doomed.
"Spence," you warned, trying to give him your best glare but already melting into him as his fingers slid under your skirt. "I thought you wanted to have lunch."
"I do," he agreed, slipping inside the waistband of your panties. "And I am. I want to eat you."
You really needed to talk to him about his oral fixation—not that you minded, because honestly, you loved it when he went down on you. The problem was, he didn't always pick the right time or place.
Like that one time on a date when he begged to taste you, leaving your food cold when you returned from the bathroom, with the waiter giving you the stink eye you could feel the judgment in their gaze. And now he wanted to do it at work, with your friends practically in the next room.
"We can't—" you tried to protest, but your voice faltered as he nibbled on your earlobe.
"Shh," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I’ll be quick."
Before you could respond, his hand slipped further down, and you let out a gasp, clutching at his shoulders. His touch was electrifying, and you found it increasingly difficult to remember why this was a bad idea.
"We're going to get caught," you managed to say, though it lacked conviction.
"We won't," he murmured, and when his fingers brushed your arousal, he laughed softly, spreading your slickness up and down your folds. "You’re already so wet."
He grinned when he felt your hips thrusting and bucking upwards. He knew you were inviting him to give you more. The flat tips of his fingers begin to dip in your entrance teasingly. You wanted him. You needed him. He knew he had you right where he wanted.
"Spencer, please," you whispered, half in protest, half in desperation.
"Please what?" he asked, his voice husky. "Please stop? Or please don't stop?"
You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. "Please… just..."
He took that as encouragement, intensifying the pressure and speed of his movements. You clung to him, your knees weakening, your breath hitching in ragged gasps. Just when you felt you couldn't bear it any longer, he knelt before you, deftly sliding your panties down your legs. Any resistance dissolved as he gripped one of your legs, hoisting it up over his shoulder.
“Lift your skirt up.”
With trembling hands, you gathered the fabric and lifted it, exposing yourself fully to him. His eyes couldn’t help but rest on the sight, taking note of your swollen, aroused lips and how wet you already were. His fingers traced over your slick folds, teasingly brushing against your sensitive skin before lowering his head between your thighs.
The moment his tongue made contact, you were already lost in a haze of pleasure. Your head spun as nerves and excitement merged into a blissful frenzy in your mind. He teased up and down your slit, briefly dipping inside your dripping entrance before returning to focus on your swollen, aching clit.
"You taste amazing," he grunted, his voice thick with desire. His hands encircled your thighs firmly, keeping you in place as his tongue circled and flicked over your sensitive bud. He sucked lightly, causing you to hold your breath, before releasing it in a ragged gasp. Your hips bucked uncontrollably as you ran your hands through his hair, tugging on the strands, eliciting a deep, rough yet eager moan from him.
This was why he loved tasting you so much. He was addicted to your reactions, the way you whimpered and moaned, and the eager groans he made between your trembling thighs. He reveled in the sensation of your juices against his tongue, thrilled by the chance to please you and watch your legs quiver around him. He adored the way your voice strained when you called out his name, and how tightly you gripped the strand of his hair between your fingers.
He loved it all, making it clear as his tongue sped up, circling your clit even faster. Looking up at you, he saw you trembling, your gaze locking onto his wide, shining brown eyes as he continued to pleasure you. Each flick of his tongue, every gentle suck, drew you closer to the edge.
"Please," you cried out, fingers gripping his hair as you moved your hips against his mouth. "I'm so close," you gasped, your focus entirely on him, feeling the pressure of his tongue against your throbbing cunt.
He responded with a low, satisfied hum, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. The tension built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until you were teetering on the brink of release. Your breaths came in shallow pants, your entire body alight with anticipation.
He held onto your thighs firmly, keeping you in place as he expertly licked your folds, skillfully massaging your clit with the flat of his tongue. The way he moved, the way he tasted you, it was driving you wild. You could feel yourself spiraling, the tension building inside you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
With one final, skillful flick of his tongue, he pushed you over the edge. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering, your breath catching in your throat. You cried out, a raw, uninhibited sound of pure ecstasy, as the pleasure washed over you in powerful, crashing waves.
Spencer held you through it, his tongue never slowing, drawing out every last bit of your release until you were spent and trembling in his arms. Only then did he finally pull back, looking up at you with a satisfied, almost smug expression.
"You okay?" he asked softly, his hands gently caressing your trembling thighs.
You nodded, your breath still coming in shallow gasps. He rose to his feet, his eyes still locked on yours as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, his expression one of satisfaction and tenderness. He pulled you into a warm embrace, his hands gently rubbing your back as you steadied yourself, your legs still trembling slightly from the intensity of your release.
You leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I can't believe we just did that," you said, your voice still shaky. "We could have gotten caught."
"The thrill of almost getting caught makes it even better, doesn't it?"
You groaned and swatted his chest. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. "Let's get you cleaned up before someone wonders where we are."
Nodding, you straightened your skirt and tried to compose yourself, though the lingering heat between your thighs was a constant reminder of what had just transpired. Spencer handed you your panties with a playful smirk, and you quickly slipped them back on, feeling a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.
As you both stepped out of the room, the hallway was thankfully empty. He kept a protective arm around your waist as he guided you back towards the bullpen.
"Where did you two go?" JJ asked the moment she saw you. "We just ordered takeout."
Spencer stepped slightly aside from you, but his arm remained reassuringly around your waist. "It's fine, I already had my lunch, anyway," he replied smoothly.
You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure, and returned to your desk as you ignored JJ’s stare. The slight blush on your face threatened to give you away, and you shot him a discreet but pointed glare.
"Yeah? What did you eat?" JJ asked, her curiosity clearly piqued.
"Oh, just something... incredibly satisfying," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. “Something I've been craving for a while."
You bit your lip, hoping the warmth in your cheeks wasn't too obvious as you met his eyes briefly, noting the smug look on his face.
You were going to kill him.
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lichenes · 1 day
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I need protective jealous Joost. Maybe your at one of his concerts or an afterparty and someone keeps on flirting with you and you are trying to make it clear you not into them and uncomfortable so Joost comes to the rescue 🙏 (maybe some public making out occurs idk 🙈)
Thank you for the ask anon!! I need him biblically, truly CW: kissin, creeps, alcohol mentioned wc: 444
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“Bedankt!!” He said waving at the audience. Joost went backstage. “You did so well.” You said putting your hands on his bare chest, the t-shirt discarded somewhere amongst the frenzy of the event. He was still full with adrenaline which made him… eager. He kissed you fervently as a hello to you and one of many kisses you were to receive that night. 
You went to the nearest club so you could let out the pent up energy you’ve accumulated over the span of the concert. Joost was still ready to party (as always) so he didn’t mind. You were dancing with him, the steaminess of the club not helping you both with the fervour you were both feeling at the moment. 
You decided to sit down for a while, leaving him to his own devices, when you were approached by a guy looking way more inebriated than you’d like. Before he said anything you pointed out Joost who was intimidating in his tall posture and proudly proclaimed him as your boyfriend. “I could sweep you off your feet better than this guy.” He leaned closer. “I could fuck you better than him too.” 
You twisted your face in a grimace giving him a look of disgust and as suddenly as he appeared you saw him being dragged away by Joost. You couldn’t quite make out what he was talking about as the music was deafening. The guy was ready to fight Joost right then and there. He explained something calmly and sent the guy on his way. When Joost was done the guy walked away mumbling something under his breath. 
He walked up to you even more steamed up than before and gave you an intense kiss which knocked the wind out of you. “Love you~” He mumbled into your mouth, making your stomach flutter. Between kisses you managed to let out “What did you say to him?” 
“That you’re mine.” He said tipsy from the drinks you both had. “‘nd that you wouldn’t leave me for a drunken creep.” You grinned and moved closer to kiss him. You put your hands into his hair and tugged, making him let out a groan. His hands were resting on your cheeks making sure you could not get away. He needed you all to yourself especially after that stupid fucking guy who thought he could steal you away.
He sat down and motioned for you to get closer to him. “C’mon, need you…” He said, his hands not once leaving your body. You sat in his lap receiving a ‘good job’ kiss as you settled into his larger body.
“Ik wil niemand anders dan jou.” 
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d4yl1ghts · 3 days
Text
late escapes (2)
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benedict bridgerton x shy, fem!reader
summary: after an unlikely spark flies between you and benedict, you spend a scandalous moment in a carriage together
warnings: breast play (barely)
A/N- here is the much requested part 2! it is a bit cringe but…
part 1
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You and Benedict had been talking in your hidden corner for an hour and a half before you decided to leave. The two of you talked about the most obscure things; it was typically Benedict who spoke his new thought. That is what lead you to now, gazing into Benedict’s gorgeous eyes as he stared back with his lips curved upwards.
“Shall we head home? You can enter my carriage with me if you would like.”, he offered. “Of course. Thank you.”, you smiled at him before glancing down at your hands nervously. He then linked your arms which left you with a blazing blush across your cheeks. As you reached the entrance of the carriage, Benedict guided you up the stairs like the gentleman he was.
Amidst the cosy atmosphere of the carriage, you couldn’t help but feel slightly claustrophobic as Benedict was opposite you with your knees almost touching. You liked it but also didn’t at the same time.
You delicately gazed out of the window, admiring London’s landscape. Benedict was almost admiring something- you. You turned to look at him after seeing him staring at you through your peripheral vision. You looked at him quizzically and he looked down in shame almost. You continued to ignore him for most of the journey.
Benedict abruptly grabbed your hand with a careful touch and you alarmingly pulled away. You flushed deeply. “Sorry.”, you muttered as you avoided his caring eyes. “I am sorry.”, he apologised. This time, however, you felt more confident and so you decided to gaze at him for short periods of time.
At that moment, the carriage just had to drive over a large bump and so you were shoved onto the edge of Benedict’s lap. “I apologise. It seems the carriage drove away a bump.”, you gently stared at him. You pulled away from his lap but before you could do so, Benedict grabbed your hand as he did before. You had the urge to move your hand away but resisted.
He stared into your eyes and you could feel his breath fanning your face. “Benedict…”, you mumbled quietly. “Hmm?”, he uttered as he surveyed you and admired your features. You simply stared at him. He slowly leant in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips before you could kiss back. You placed your hands in his chestnut hair before gently kissing him and he copied you with an increased sense of passion.
He moved his forehead against yours as you pulled away for air. He then began kissing your neck and you pulled at his hair. He continued kissing down until he reached your breasts where he stopped and glanced at you for consent to which you nodded.
Benedict placed his lips on your right breast and gently bit it as he moved his hand to your other breast, squeezing it through your dress. You let out quiet noises of approval. He continued nipping and playing with your breasts until the carriage suddenly stopped and only then did you realise that you were outside your house.
“I hope no one saw us.”, you voiced your worries. “If they did, they will have only sped up the process of our marriage.”, he stated charmingly. You glanced at him before exiting the vehicle. “Lady Y/N, it has been a pleasure. I do hope to see you soon. I’m sure I will find you in a corner of a ball.”, he smirked as he waved you off. You knew that you would see him in the future and as he had previously mentioned, you could even get married soon.
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utahimesgf · 2 days
Text
𝐀𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬
summary: when megumi is around you, he can’t seem to catch his breath. his allergies are really bad.
warnings: poor megumi. buddy is suffering! fem! reader, oblivious megumi, idiots. kiss-ish (maybe) idk is there?
authors note: since megumi here won the poll, here’s the fic as promised! this was cute and fun to finish up. he’s so beautiful i wanna kms
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with the sweet scent of spring flowers and tree leaves, the smell of spring weaved into the breeze as needles knit clothes, steady and soft, creating something beautiful.
with the change of the season came a change of emotions, twisted and unwelcome, the feelings inside Megumi’s chest become more of an abnormality than his irritating classmates.
with the exception of you, of course.
with the change in year, came the change in visuals. with the leaves of spring littering the ground, Megumi found himself with a heavy burden. a suffocating feeling, a gnawing sensation.
The boy wasn’t one for allergies, his immune system lived up to its name— so, when spring came around and he suddenly began to feel short of breath and warm, he wondered if maybe he’d grown into allergies. the thought was disturbing.
Cherry blossom trees littered all over japan, but it only seemed his ‘allergies’ decided to act up in the strangest times. Sometimes, in class. others, outside.
but, what surprised him, is that when he walked along the most heavily pollinated roads, his allergies showed no trace.
perhaps, he’d thought, he wasn’t sensitive to the blossoms, but something else.
what could it be?
“Megumi-kun!”
the suffocation of his closing throat was surprising, and he felt almost as though he could drop to the floor— claw and beg for air, a desperate attempt really— but, instead of that, he subtly turned afoot and faced the call of the voice.
you walked over to him, the pounding of his heart in its prison rang throughout his body like a scream in an empty cave, shaking him.
the smile on your face was radiating, sweet and soft like the petals of a sakura. warm and gentle, like the tender kiss of the sun on cold skin. Your eyes were bright, like the stars in the sky on a dark night. like the reflection of the sunset on a river, shining so bright it hurt.
Megumi didn’t reply, he couldn’t find the words, silence engulfed his mind and soul, and he hoped he wasn’t gaping at you. that would surely be embarrassing.
“where are you going?” you ask, voice littered with a hint of genuine wonder, tilting your head in that cute way you do when you’re curious. Your eyes squint the smallest amount, skeptical of where he was going, brows furrowing in wait for a response.
Megumi swallowed the lump that grew in his throat, choking him.
“the store.” those two words felt like he’d just screamed the best he could with no effect, helpless and unable to do what he wants. Two words were all it took for you to light up like a candle.
He watched your curiosity and wonder construct into joy and excitement, putting your hands together a front your chest. “ah! do you mind if I tag along? I was going to do the same.” Initially, fushiguro wanted to say no, his allergies were pretty horrible, but he couldn’t find his voice to deny your request.
the breeze spoke for him, shuffling his hair around and allowing him to subtly nod his head. and as you clap excitedly , beginning to talk about whatever it was you thought he would find interesting, he couldn’t help but stare at you. your voice was a melody unlike anything he’s ever heard, a song that was more beautiful than the songbirds that sing good morning. more beautiful than the sounds of the sakura petals hum in the spring.
from jujutsu high, the nearest convenience store was about a ten minute walk. though, with you, it felt like seconds.
before the blacked haired boy knew it, the bell to the automatic sliding door opened, and you were quick to ask him what he came for.
“what did you need to get, gumi?”
that nickname had him on another planet. orbiting a in a separate galaxy, far, far away. Once again, the poor boys allergies acted up. throat sewed so tight he couldn’t breathe, heart beating so fast it shook his whole body. was it really this awfully warm in the store? was it him? or was it the hand you had around his arm?
“ah! i know. it was shonen, right? for yuji-kun?” how did you know that?
Itadori had basically begged him to go the store to get him the weekly shonen because he’d been banned from the store a few weeks ago, and he just couldn’t go without the manga. Eventually, despite fushiguro’s protests, itadori successfully managed to convince Megumi to do his dirty deed.
Fushiguro nodded. He swallowed, and he swore it was the most difficult action he’d ever taken. Why were you so close? he could smell you.
you smelled like the sakura blossoms.
“i knew it!” you shook your head, releasing the soft grip you had on megumi’s arm to tuck some hair behind your ear. “Well, i’m here for a few snacks.” you bashfully admit, motioning towards the fridge.
“I’ll be quick, so you don’t have to wait!” you say, smiling as you walk off. Megumi’s eyes trail after you, his heart beating in his throat.
these allergies were ruining his life.
After a moment, he made his way over to the books. The latest shonen was on display above all others, beside a shoujo. two opposites, yet they rival eachother perfectly.
He reached for the shonen, grabbing it from its stand and flickering his gaze to the shoujo as well.
would you like something like this?
sometimes he catches you reading manga. they always have silly romance titles and a couple on the cover. do you like shoujo? or do you prefer shonen like itadori-kun?
without his permission, megumi’s hand reached for the shoujo. it was labeled ‘when the heart beats for someone, it’s the words ‘i love you.’’ he stared at the cover with a blank face. why was the title so long? He looked to the shonen, ‘Fight Or Die!’ this one was pretty self explanatory, but with a short title.
He put the two books back to back, walking over to the checkout. He wasn’t sure if he’d give the manga to you, but if he did he’d hoped you’d like it it. he thinks you would.
before he bought his things, he glances to the food area.
you were in deep thought, apparently. brows furrowed, cheeks slightly puffed, eyes squinted— the face you made when you were highly focused or confused on a subject in school, megumi recognized it all too well. he waits a moment, thinking. should he buy your food? he did walk with you. but, he had limited money and was already buying to books. how much was food at this place again?
he was deep in thought by the time you finished, approaching him with two items in your hand. “Ready?” your voice knocks the breathe from his lungs, stealing his air like you were on the moon. he nods.
He watched you pull out your wallet, and before he could offer to pay— “are you going to put the manga down?” your voice held the smallest tint of tease to it, taking the books from his hand and adding them to your bill. was he really about to let you pay for his books?— even though, technically only one was his. You didn’t seem to catch into the covers as you paid, thanking the employee and turning around to face megumi.
he was almost embarrassed when the second you turned around your eyes locked— was he really staring? you smiled, grabbing your snacks and allowing him to grab his books, bidding goodbye to the store employee as you excited through the same door you entered through.
Silence followed for a moment as you two walked, but it wasn’t the suffocating kind. it was… nice.
Megumi reached into his pocket, retrieving around 500 yen, stopping in his tracks and holding the coins to you. you looked at him confused.
“For the Manga,” he clarified, holding up the books. You sent him a close eyed smile, reaching to his had— but, instead of taking the money, you closed his fingers around his palm, shutting his hand into a soft fist. “No need, it’s my treat.” you clarify, holding a thumbs up. “oh!” you say suddenly, holding up a small pack of two Yuki ichigo.
Now, it was megumi’s turn to be confused, brows furrowing as he subconsciously tilted his own head, black hair shifting lightly. Cute!
“It’s for us to share, if you’d like.” you offer with a shy smile , one he didn’t seem to catch onto. “I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked, so i got a two pack. one is strawberry and the other is…” you turn the back of the plastic, not seeing a name. “… it doesn’t say. but… hopefully you like strawberry because it’s yuki ichigo.” you chuckle a little nervously, a little flustered you’d not checked both flavors. Megumi likes strawberry, so you didn’t choose bad.
“I like strawberry.”
your face absolutely exploded into one of relief and joy, “But i can’t accept it.” your expression fell just as fast, a small frown on your lips. megumi watched, shuttering.
“You already paid for my Manga.” he said, looking to the two books. separating them, he put the shonen in his bag and nervously held the shoujo.
“I… thought that maybe you’d like this.” his voice came out much calmer than he thought he would, and he couldn’t find it in himself to meet your eye.
what kind of guy was he, really? he wanted to give you something, and you ended up paying for it.
a gasp from your lips made his eyes flicker up, breath being once more stolen from his body as the expression on your face lit up.
“I love this one!” you replied happily, taking the book from his grasp and gently brushing your fingers against his. “Thank you, gumi.” you smile fondly, and only then, does megumi see the small tint of peachy pink on your cheeks.
was that.. blush?
with newfound courage, you smile, stepping on your toes.
Megumi’s breath caught in his throat as you got closer, eyes watching you like a magnet, and heart pausing when you placed a soft, warm kiss the the tense jaw of the black haired boy. Your lips were so smooth, he could smell your cherry lipstick. he could feel the lipgloss mark it left on his burning skin.
it was only then, under the sakura tree in early may, with the sun shining on your face and the shoujo he’d thought you’d like in your hand; did he finally realize that his thing he’d been feeling, it wasn’t allergies.
it was love. and, he’s sure it would ruin his life, as the way you hid your face behind the Manga he’d gifted you made him want to squeal like a little boy.
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ktaerssoi · 2 days
Note
plsss kate martin angst
drunk words
kate martin x fem!reader summary: you had known kate since you were kids, what happens when you except your feelings for her?
you and kate had known each other for years, you had even gone to Iowa with her. over the years, you've developed a small crush on her, kate's amazing attitude and kindness drawing you to her. 
kate walks into your shared apartment, arms full of grocery bags. you quickly spring up from your spot on the couch to help her. "hey, successful trip?" you joke, gasping as you spot your favorite snack. 
kate laughs, closing the fridge as she looks at your excited expression. "i saw you were running low, thought i would get you some more." 
you quickly put it in your secret stash in your room, "what would i do without you?" kate shrugs, her eyes seeming to sparkle. "i dunno, probably starve." 
"oh shut up, acting as if i don't do anything by myself.." you mumble the last part, continuing to put away groceries. 
"hey i heard there's a party tonight! wanna go? i heard there will be cute guys." kate nudged your arm lightly, smirking at the thought of setting you up with someone. "plus you and i both know we need to get out more." 
"hey, i get out! plus, i don't need any guys, i have you for a reason." you cross your arms as you watch her put away the last item. "okay true," kate hums, "but I'm tired of rotting away every friday night. it'll be fun i swear. need a remind you about the cute guys?" 
you sigh, nodding. "okay, what time is it at?" you over to the clock on the wall, it reading 5:23 pm. "it starts at eight but we should probably get there earlier for the good liquor." kate winks, a grin on her face.
"i bet i could get a guy to get me a drink," she smiles, leaning against the kitchen counter. "can you shut up about the guys? that's not helping." 
kate was taken aback by your sudden attitude, but her shock was quickly replaced by a smug look. "are you jealous or something?" 
you scoff, rolling your eyes at her implication. "jealous? of what?" you tried to shrug off her idea, knowing deep down you were jealous that she wasn't talking about you like that. 
kate gives you a teasing look, smirking "yes you are! admit it, you're crushing on some girl." she gasps, giggle "aw are you crushing on me?" she teases you, playfully pushing your shoulder. 
"no kate, can't you just drop it?" you uncross your arms, walking over your bed as you try to ignore her surprisingly accurate accusation. kate laughs as she follows, jumping onto your bed next to you. "c'mon you know i won't judge, just tell me" 
"no kate, this is something i want to keep to myself." you turn on your side, facing away from her. kate frowns, a little disappointed. she stays silent for a few moments before speaking again. "okay fine, i'll drop it, but you know i always find out." 
"shut up," you mumble into your pillow, "plus how could i have a crush on you? i'm not even gay." kates eyes widen before she bursts out laughing, "good one, but we both know that's bullshit." 
you don't say anything, know that speaking would just dig yourself a deeper hole of no return. you decide to take a quick nap before the party. 
you wake up a little before seven, meaning you had about an hour to get ready. you first got dressed, throwing on something party-appropriate. realizing that kate had fallen asleep too, i woke her up. “c’mon kate, we gotta go soon.”
she got up with a groan, dragging her feet over to the bathroom. kate usually takes a little while to get ready, but she manages a good pace as she walks around the apartment. "ready,"
you stand up from your seat at the kitchen table, looking at her up and down. she looks good. "you look really pretty," kate smiles at you, causing color to rush to your cheeks. 
you point to the door, regaining your composure, "lead the way." the party wasn't far from your apartment, so the two of you opted to walk. as you got up to the house you could already feel the vibrations of the loud music. 
kate takes a look at you and grins, "alright, lets do this." you shake your head as she pulls you forward, walking through the front door. taking a deep breath, you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. people were crowding the small space, empty solo cups already littered the available surface area. 
kate quickly got caught up with people, fitting right in. you on the other hand, had made your way to a nearby wall, trying to scope out the people. you smiled as you spotted jada and gabbie, two of kate's teammates. 
the duo was taking to a group of football players, and you grabbed a drink on the way over to calm your nerves. "hey guys," jada's face lights up at your appearance, and gabbie is quick to hug you. 
"hey! we didn't expect to see you here tonight?" gabbie looked to jada, who then nodded at you. "yeah how's it going?" jada took a sip of her drink, waiting for your answer. 
"good, kate dragged me here. something about cute guys." you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. jada looks around, nodding. "yeah, i guess there are some cute guys here. they're all total douchebags though."
gabbie nods, also looking around. "speaking of our dear friend kate, where is she?" you pause, trying to remember if you saw her on your way over. "um, last i saw she was talking to some group of girls." 
jada and gabbie give each other a look, causing your eyebrows to knit together in confusion. "what?" you ask, feeling nervous almost. "nothing, it's just kate said she liked someone and we've been trying to figure out who." jada explains 
"and you think its a girl?" you take another sip of your drink, taking in the new information. why hadn't kate told you? "well she said no to every guy we said, so were out of ideas. plus it would kind of make sense" 
"how?" you were interested, maybe you did have a chance. "well you know, you guys have always kind of been like, you know." gabbie tries to explain, but you don't understand what she means. "no? i don't know?" 
"you guys have always had that kind of friend or dating type of thing." jada puts in bluntly, causing you to nod a barely audible 'oh' escaping your lips. "we're not saying she likes you though, or that we think you're like that, just, you know." 
"no, i still don't 'know'" you cross your arms, tired of people being vague. "i'm going to go get a refill," i mutter, walking away from them. 
getting over to the drink table, you run into the main topic of conversation. kate was chatting it up with a new group of people, all of which seemed to be paying a great deal of attention to her. you know it's wrong, but you're tired of seeing her with everyone but you. 
you pour yourself another drink before walking over to her. "hey kate," you mumble, squeezing in between her and some random guy from the group she was talking to. 
kate turns to you, still laughing from whatever joke the guy had said. she beamed at you, giving you a once-over. "look who it is! i was wondering where you went." 
"i ran into jada and gabbie, so i was hanging with them." you smile, and you can smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath. kate giggles as she sees you eyeing her. "mm, well im trying to have fun too and these guys aren't the best company, you know?" 
why does everyone think you know? you turn to look at the group of guys, they're all drunk, laughing their asses off about something. "but anyway, you're here now," she murmurs, looping her arm around your waist loosely. "we can have our own fun now," 
you nod, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "yeah sure, want to go dance?" kate smiles as she pulls you to the makeshift dance floor. the alcohol had clearly relaxed her significantly, making her more carefree and touchy. 
you smile as you watch kate, she looked like she was having fun, even catching some people's attention. a few songs in a guy approaches you, "hey, i noticed you dancing over here. is that your girlfriend?" you laugh as he nods to kate. "uh no, she is just my roommate."
"oh so you're single then?" he gives you a cheesy smile as he looks you up and down. "you're really pretty, would you maybe want to go grab a drink?" you turn back to kate, seeing her talking to some other girl.
"yeah, i would love to." the guy smiles, offering you his hand. "i'm eric, by the way." he comments as he leads you away from kate. "okay, i am going to make you the best damn party drink you've ever had." eric says, grabbing a cup.
"hmm, i don't know, a shearly temple is pretty hard to beat." you laugh, watching him pour things into your cup carefully. meanwhile, kate has finished up her conversation, and is now scanning the room for you, coming up empty-handed.
"so you having fun tonight?" eric asks, handing you the cup. "yeah, it's been fun. i don't go to parties much." you nod, taking a sip of the drink he made. "really? you seem like the type to be invited to them all the time."
"i didn't say i don't get invited, i just don't come." you laugh, nodding your head as you take another sip. "you're a real stunner and you always know what to say, i like that in a girl. want to find somewhere quieter where we can talk?"
he eyes you hungrily, and you realize how much taller he is than you. "aw, im flattered but i need to finish this drink you made me! it's really good." you say, taking yet another sip.
"you could be enjoying much more than the drink if you come with me." he smiles, whispering into your ear. "thanks for the offer but i have to get back to my roommate, she's a. bit of a lightweight if you know what i mean."
"you're picking her over me? i thought we were having a good time, but i guess we have to cut it short because your friend can't handle herself." you nod, confused as to where this attitude is coming from. "yeah, i guess we will."
you walk away, trying to locate kate. you finally spot her talking to jada, a worried look on her face. "hey guys, what's up?" you say breathlessly, tired from squeezing through the crowd. kate's eyes widen as she sees you, relaxing a little. "there you are, i was looking everywhere for you. where'd you go? and why didn't you answer my text?"
"oh sorry, i was with some guy." kate narrows her eyes at your response, seeming almost mad. "'some guy?' who? and how is he more important than us? what were you even talking about" kate was mad, she was mad that you had someone else prioritized above her.
"a bunch of things, and it wasn't like we were hooking up in the bathroom, so calm down." you cross your arms, getting defensive. "he asked if i was single and you were off talking to some girl so i just said yes. he was a nice guy."
"what was his name? or did you guys not get to talking about that?" kate asked pointedly. "what is with the interrogation? i said he was a nice guy alright?" you roll your eyes, not quite sure why she was acting this way.
kate places her hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you? "hey im just trying to understand who this guy is." you shrug her hand off of you, pulling back. "okay i just told you, so can you drop it? i'm going to go get a drink."
kate flinches, her smile dropping as you brush her off. "whats with her mood?" jada asks, sitting on the couch next to kate. "shut up, dude." kate says, leaning back, resting her head on top of her head.
"fuck," you mumble as you accidentally spill a drink. you eventually clean it up. after that, not paying any mind to how you might feel the next day, you pour yourself a few more just to try and lighten your mood.
you find your way to the dance floor again, you see kate as you dance. you don't know if she sees you, but you dance as if she's watching you.
some random football player comes up to you, just making you even more ticked off. you excuse yourself, squeezing past him to go find kate. even if you were slightly upset, you weren't going to leave with out her.
kate sees you coming towards her, and her face lights up immediately. she moves to wrap her arms around you, relieved to see you again. but as she looks closer, she notices your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, and her smile fades. "hey are you okay? you look a bit..drunk."
she pulls back from the hug slightly, gently holding your face in her hands and studying your expression. "yeah i'm fine, can we go home?" you hiccup.
"yeah, yeah for sure. hey jada we're going to head out." kate days bye to people on the way out, guiding you through the crowd with her hand on your lower back.
"sorry i'm making you leave so early." you mumble, your eyes barely staying open. "hey, it's okay. don't worry about me. i just want to make sure you're alright." she looks at you with concern in her eyes, clearly worried about your emotional state.
once you and kate get back to your apartment you quickly change, completely forgetting she was still there. "woah, hey im still here." kate says, turning around, even if she has seen you many times before.
"sorry, you can turn back now." you mutter, walking to the bathroom to wash your face. "hey, don't worry about it. It's no big deal. I just wasn't expecting you to change so quickly." she smiles softly, noticing the tear stains on your cheeks. her heart aches for you, and she wants nothing more than to comfort you
"guys suck, so much." you sigh, climbing into bed, "and i don't even like them!" kate chuckles, a mixture of amusement and sympathy in her eyes. "yeah, well you know you don't have to force yourself to like them? you don't need to be in a relationship to be happy."
you nod, still very much under the influence, "i guess, but like i don't like any men, like i just want you. why can't you want me like i want you?" you begin to doze off, "things would be so much easier."
kate's heart skips a beat at your admission, her eyes widening in surprise. she wouldn't admit it, especially to your drunk self, but she knew deep down she wanted you too.
"get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow." kate said, leaning down and brushing some hair out of your face.
notes: sooo 🌝 you asked for kate angst and i think i failed miserably but whatever! anyway, i hate this sm and it makes zero sense so i would love feedback!
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 3 days
Note
Hello! I know that your asks are closed right now, but this idea just popped into my mind and I needed to get it to you before it disappeared. Please feel free to ignore this until your asks reopen or just ignore it in general. I don't want you to feel forced to do anything, especially when I'm breaking your blog rules!
Jack Howl × Gorou M! Reader
I just noticed that you didn't have anything for Jack where he's by himself; so I wanted to give you a bit of inspiration! Have a wonderful day, Mr. Benny.
Jack Howl - With Gorou-Like Male Reader
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Originally I was going to do all of the asks from franchises that I hadn't written for before first, but then I saw this and remembered that Jack didn't have any stand-alone content on my blog yet, so I just had to right this injustice. —Benny🐰
                                                                                                   
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🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺
🍐  Jack first met you at the orientation ceremony. He sort of already felt comfortable around you because of your canine traits and the way you carried yourself with such seriousness and determination. The white-haired boy also thought you smelled kind of nice; like the ocean and water-logged wood, but there was also a bit of sweetness in there that he couldn't quite identify. As orientation ended and all the Savanaclaw students made their way to the mirror chamber, Jack's curious eyes stayed glued to your cloaked form.
🍐 Coincidentally, you and Jack ended up sharing a dorm room, how nice for him. He was a bit shocked when you told him right off the bat that if he needed help or just someone to talk to you would readily lend an ear. The fact that he was bunked with such a supportive person was incredibly relieving for the wolf-eared boy. While it would take him a little while to open up to you more, considering you just met, Jack would be sure to act on your offer in the future.
🍐  Jack loves exercising with you! After learning about your previous status as a general before your enrollment in the NRC, he requested to know your exercise routine during that time, to which you happily agreed. You both have a habit of waking up at the crack of dawn and going for a run which made you decide to ask him to accompany you instead of heading out separately. Your skills with a bow and arrow also caught Jack's attention, often watching you practice and occasionally catching glimpses of a certain weird Pomefiore third-year hiding in the bushes.
🍐 During one particularly hot day, you and Jack ended up staying in your shared dorm room after class instead of going outside or to the dorm's indoor gym to exercise; far too hot to will yourselves to move. This is when the wolf beast-man learned of your shared habit of your extra appendages giving away your emotions, your orange-brown and white ears drooping with exhaustion from the heat. When Jack suggested going to the dorm kitchen and making smoothies, he had to hold back a chuckle at how your ears perked up and how your tail began to sway. Although, when you saw where his gaze was directed you grew embarrassed and covered your butt with a pillow.
🍐 Speaking of sweet things, Jack discovered that his dorm mate had a fondness for sweets, he remembered you mentioning that you didn't get them very often while you were a general. He actually whipped up some pear jam on toast for you once to see what you thought about the taste and was happy that he found a fellow pear enjoyer in you. You did tell him that your favorite fruit was something called lavender melon, a tree fruit that was native to the cluster of islands that you grew up on. The fruit was on his mind for a while after that, Jack may or may not have made plans to eat it with you in the future.
🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺
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🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
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lancermylove · 3 days
Text
Dark Side of Dating Him 2 (Scenarios)
Fandom: Obey Me
Pairing: Demons x gn!Reader
Warning: Detailed warnings before each scenario, but the scenarios are dark.
Requested by: Anon
Prompt: I would love to see the even darker / more situational stuff for the demons 😳 or at least some of the bros
A/N: If you get sad easily, proceed with caution. If you like to feel the burn, enjoy. 😂
Series: [1]
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Warning: Angst, manipulation.
Barbatos had constantly been by Diavolo's side for the past three weeks. Despite being married, he hadn't spent a single night with you. You watched him from afar, missing his presence, yet a strange sense of calm kept you from feeling truly upset. Why were you not sad that your husband wasn't spending time with you? Though you couldn't answer that question, a series of unsettling déjà vu moments had been haunting you.
Standing near the throne room window, you observed Barbatos and Diavolo's meeting. Your husband's expression was unreadable - a mask of perfect composure as he listened attentively. But something about his demeanor struck you as off. The light that usually danced in his eyes when he looked at you was absent, replaced by a cold, distant gaze that sent chills down your spine. You couldn't shake the feeling that the man you saw before you was different from the one you knew intimately.
Who was the real Barbatos? Was it the devoted husband who showered you with affection or the inscrutable butler standing in the throne room? The more you pondered this, the more uncomfortable you became. Moreover, Barbatos had the ability to alter timelines and outcomes. The déjà vu moments - were they a result of him changing past events to create a more favorable reality? Had he altered your shared moments, erasing any friction or discontent to maintain a perfect image of your relationship? Had your husband used those powers against you?
You wanted to trust him, to believe in the sincerity of his love and the authenticity of your marriage. But the longer you thought about it, the harder it became to fight the doubts. The thought that he might have been manipulating your reality filled you with a sense of betrayal and heartbreak. What had he altered? What had happened in the past? You knew you needed to confront him to clear the shadows that clouded your thoughts, but would he allow you to find out the truth? All he had to do was use his powers to find a new reality and make you forget everything except your love for him.
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Warning: Angst, degrading, depression.
Being a human in the Devildom was never easy, especially as the future spouse of Prince Diavolo. The demons of Devildom scrutinized you relentlessly, picking apart your appearance, your humanity, and your weak strength. They mocked your way of dressing, which they deemed unfit for royalty. Every aspect of your body was criticized, and your manner of speaking and laughing was a constant source of ridicule. Even the smallest mistake was subjected to their harsh judgment.
One evening, feeling utterly defeated, you decided to confide in Diavolo. He was your rock, and you hoped he would understand the toll this relentless criticism was taking on you. However, when you told him about the demons' harsh words, he simply brushed it off. "Do not pay attention to them," he said with a dismissive wave. "Their opinions do not matter."
His response stung, but you tried to push through. As the day passed, Diavolo became busier, consumed by his princely duties. Whenever you wanted a moment to talk, he would hand you one of his tasks and ask for your assistance. It felt as though your relationship had shifted from intimate to professional and cold. Just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the council members proved you wrong.
You stood by Diavolo's side as the council members openly criticized you. Their words were like daggers targeting your already fragile self-esteem. You looked to Diavolo for support, hoping he would defend you, but he sat silently on his throne. His eyes held a distant gaze as if the criticisms directed at you didn't matter.
"Endure it," he had once told you. "You need to learn resilience if you wish to rule the Devildom with me."
His expectation for you to bear their harsh words in silence and patience felt like a betrayal. You realized that, to Diavolo, your value as his future spouse was linked to your ability to endure, not your happiness or well-being.
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Warning: Angst.
Being Lucifer's significant other came with its own set of challenges. The responsibility of his younger brothers often fell on your shoulders. Whether it was cleaning up after their latest mishap, calming them down from their frequent outbursts, or dealing with the consequences of their chaotic antics, it was an endless cycle of stress and exhaustion.
One evening, after another taxing day of managing the chaos, you were at your breaking point. Seeking some solace, you approached Lucifer in the hope that he would understand and offer some support.
"Lucifer, today was just too much," you began, your voice tinged with weariness. "Dealing with your brothers and all their chaos is overwhelming. I feel like I'm about to break."
He paused in his tracks, his expression stern. The Avatar of Pride didn't say anything for a moment but then broke the silence in a cold vice. "Cease your complaints. You need to learn to be resilient. You are excessively sensitive."
Your heart sank at his dismissive tone. "But Lucifer, you don't understand how hard it is. I'm trying my best, but it's too much."
His eyes narrowed slightly, and a hint of impatience flashed in his crimson orbs. "You have developed a propensity for complaining and relying on me for every issue. You must learn to handle matters independently."
The words cut deep, and you felt a lump in your throat. "Why can't you just understand how I'm feeling?"
Lucifer sighed in irritation. "You need to be mature and learn to manage your own affairs. I cannot resolve your matters for you."
As if the conversation wasn't already painful enough, he glanced at your disheveled appearance. "And attend to your appearance. You look unkempt."
With that, he entered his bedroom and closed the door as if he didn't want you to follow him inside. The weight of his words pressed heavily on you, amplifying your already overwhelming stress. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to process what had happened. You had hoped for comfort and understanding from the one person who meant the most to you, but instead, you were met with criticism and dismissal.
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Warning: Angst.
The memory of the two witches in the human realm haunted you. Their threatening presence, the malevolent glint in their eyes, and mocking laughter had reduced you to tears. They called you pathetic, and in that moment, you felt utterly powerless. Mammon owned them money, but the witches targeted you instead since they couldn't get to him. When you finally returned to the Devildom, you immediately sought the comfort of your most treasured possession—your grandmother's necklace.
But as you searched through your belongings, panic set in. The necklace was nowhere to be found. Frantic, you rushed to Mammon's room, hoping he might have seen it. "Mammon, have you seen my grandmother's necklace?"
He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze. "Uh, 'bout that..."
Your pulse quickened as you studied his expression. "Mammon, where is it?"
He hesitated before finally coming clean, "I sold it. I needed the money."
"You what?" you shouted, disbelief and anger flooding you. "That necklace is irreplaceable! It was my grandmother's! How could you do this to me?"
Mammon looked defensive and quickly raised his hands. "It's just a necklace, y'know. I didn't think it was that big of a deal!"
Your anger flared more at his dismissive words. "Just a necklace? It meant everything to me! How could you be so thoughtless?"
Instead of offering comfort or an apology, Mammon stepped back, his face a mask of guilt and fear. Then, without another word, he turned and ran. You sank to the floor, tears streaming down your face. The betrayal cut deep, and the loss of your grandmother's necklace felt like a piece of your heart had been ripped away. Mammon's actions and his cowardly retreat further added to your pain and made you feel abandoned. You had trusted him, believed in him, and he had shattered that trust for something as fleeting as money.
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Warning: Yandere-like behavior.
The celebration was in full swing, and everyone was ecstatic about your recent achievement. But in the corner, Levi stood apart, his expression distant and melancholy. It wasn't that he wasn't happy for you — Levi truly was — but the pang of jealousy and self-doubt gnawed at him. Why couldn't he achieve something worth celebrating? Why did he always feel like a useless demon?
Over the next few days, he avoided you, refusing to even meet your eyes or speak to you. He wouldn't even allow you to enter his room or answer your calls or texts. When he finally talked to you, his voice was filled with desperation and vulnerability. "Do you love me?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.
"Of course, Levi," you replied without hesitation, but you didn't fully understand why he was asking you this question.
Following that conversation, Levi's behavior changed drastically. He became increasingly possessive and would not let you talk to anyone else, not even his brothers. His jealousy flared and led to arguments if he saw you talking with them. You tried to understand and accommodate his feelings, but his possessiveness became suffocating.
The more you pushed for space and independence, the more Levi spiraled into darkness. He clung to you with an obsessive intensity, convinced you were his and only his. The fear of losing you consumed him, driving him to extreme measures to keep you close. You were at your wit's end.
"Levi, you can't keep doing this! You can't control who I talk to. This isn't healthy for either of us."
His eyes darkened with a mix of hurt and anger. "You're mine, (y/n). I won't let anyone take you from me. If I can't have you, no one else can."
His chilling words sent a shiver down your spine. The Levi you once knew was nowhere in sight and was replaced by someone consumed by possessiveness and insecurity.
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Warning: Angst, Violence.
The memory of the chair flying towards you was still fresh in your mind, just another reminder of Satan's uncontrollable rage. Though Satan had done it accidentally, the thought of the chair hitting you at high speed made you shiver. Lucifer had been furious when he found out and dragged Satan into his office for a severe lecture and punishment.
Later that day, your boyfriend appeared at your door, his expression calm. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to throw the chair at you. It was an accident."
You nodded, accepting his apology. "It's okay, Satan. Just try to control your anger next time."
The second he heard your words, he sighed in relief. However, Satan's expression darkened the next moment, and he began to badmouth Lucifer. "That pompous tyrant doesn't understand anything. Always lecturing, always punishing. He's the worst!"
"Lucifer isn't wrong, Satan. You can't just lose control like that. It's dangerous," you sighed.
His eyes flashed with anger at your words. "So you're taking his side now?" he spat, his voice rising. "You think he's right and I'm wrong?"
You stood your ground and firmly nodded. "Yes, Satan, you were in the wrong. What you did was dangerous."
That was all it took. Satan's anger erupted, and in an instant, he transformed into his demon form. His eyes glowed with fury as he grabbed you and slammed you against the wall, his grip so tight you thought your bones would shatter. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe, and the pain got overwhelming.
"Satan, please stop," you begged, your voice trembling. "You're hurting me."
But your pleas fell on deaf ears as his blind rage had completely consumed him. The pressure intensified, and you cried out in pain, feeling helpless and terrified. Fortunately for you, Beel stormed into the room. "Satan, let go of (y/n)!"
With a great effort, Beel managed to restrain Satan and pull him away from you. The two brothers struggled, their powerful forms clashing, but Beel finally managed to drag Satan out of the room. The noise and chaos terrified you, but all you could do was curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You had always known about his temper, but this was the first time it had been directed at you so violently. Did this mean that if he got angry enough, he could take your life?
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Warning: Angst, cheating, suggestive, depression.
You had always known that Asmo was a flirt. His charm and compliments were part of his nature, and you had tried your best to brush it off. After all, he was a friendly demon who loved to make others feel special. But for the past few weeks, you had noticed him disappearing at night, and a sinking feeling began to settle in your chest. You tried to deny it, convincing yourself that it was harmless fun. Yet, deep down, you knew what he was doing.
One day, you returned to the House of Lamentation earlier than planned. Without knocking, you entered his bedroom, and your heart stopped at the sight. Asmo was in bed with two other demons, and none of them had anything on. Your boyfriend lay in the middle, his arms wrapped around their perfect bodies. When his eyes met yours, he gave a playful smile without a hint of shame on his flushed face.
"(Y/n)," he said in a seductive voice. "Why don't you join us? The more the merrier!"
The reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut. The "Avatar of Lust" wasn't just a title - it was the bitter truth. Your heart shattered, and you fled from the room, tears blurring your vision. That incident plunged you into a deep depression. The pain and betrayal you felt were overwhelming, and you found it impossible to care about anything, least of all yourself. You stopped your self-care routines and paid no attention to your appearance. The vibrant person you once were faded into a shadow.
At first, Asmo tried to comfort you. He brought you small gifts and tried to cheer you up with his usual charm, but every attempt he made only led to arguments. You were too hurt to accept his gestures, and he was too proud to understand the depth of your pain. Eventually, the strain became too much. One day, after another argument, Asmo looked at you with a coldness that sent chills down your spine.
"You know, (y/n)," he said, his voice devoid of the warmth it once held, "You've let yourself go. I'm not attracted to you anymore."
The severity of his tone left no room for doubt - Asmo was breaking up with you. The man who had once made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world was now telling you that you were no longer worth his time. You stood there, numb, as he walked away. The realization settled heavily within you: Asmo had never truly seen you. To him, you were just another conquest, another fleeting pleasure.
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Warning: Angst.
You checked your wallet and sighed. Feeding Beel and keeping him happy had drained every cent from your wallet. It felt like the only reason you earned money was to feed your boyfriend's unsatiable appetite. As you slumped on Beel's bed, you heard Belphie enter the room with a loud yawn.
"What's wrong?" He sleepily asked.
"I'm broke," you whispered. "I spent all my money on food for Beel."
Belphie scoffed and plopped on his bed. “You should have been prepared. The House of Lamentation is broke most of the time because of Beel’s appetite. But you do know that he can’t control himself, right?”
Frustration bubbled up inside you, and you snapped at him. “Then why don’t you use your money to feed your twin?”
Your words started an argument; your voices echoed through the halls, but you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to notice Beel entering the bedroom.
"What's going on?" Beel asked, worried.
Belphie wasted no time and replied, "(Y/n) was complaining about how they were broke because of your need to eat. They want me to use my money to feed you, so they don't need to feed you anymore."
The older twin's eyes were saddened as he glanced at you. "Is that true, (y/n)?"
You wanted to explain yourself clearly, but your words came out jumbled and defensive. “I just...I didn’t mean it like that, Beel. It’s just been hard...”
Belphie cut in, his voice mocking. “See, Beel? They can’t handle it. Maybe they’re not worth your time.”
“Shut up, Belphie!” you snapped.
For a moment, Beel's eyes widened in shock, but the next, they hardened. "Don't talk to him like that again, (y/n). Leave!"
The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Beel, please, I didn’t mean-”
“Just go,” Beel interrupted, his voice breaking slightly.
Belphie smirked in satisfaction. "You heard him. You're not worth his time, and he deserves better."
Tears blurred your vision as you turned and fled to your bedroom, your heart heavy with regret and confusion. You collapsed onto your bed, the tears flowing freely now. The pain of the breakup and the argument weighed heavily on you, and you cried yourself to sleep.
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Warning: Angst, spoiler from OG.
You sat on the edge of the bed, pouring your heart out to Belphie. Your voice cracked with each word as you recounted the emotional turmoil you had recently in the past. It was something deeply personal that you had never shared with anyone else. When you finally turned your head to look at him with tear-filled eyes, hoping he would understand, you saw him fast asleep. Frustration boiled inside you. How could he fall asleep when you were sharing something so important? Tears rolled down your cheeks as you shook his shoulder, but he remained oblivious, lost in his dreams.
The following week was supposed to be special—a date you had planned with Belphie for your first anniversary. You had looked forward to it all week, imagining how wonderful it would be to spend time with him. But the hours passed, and the meeting time came and went. Belphie didn't answer your message or pick up your calls.
Somewhere in your heart, you worried something had happened to him, but your mind already knew why. A quick check of his room confirmed your worst fears: he was still asleep. The carefully planned date ended in disappointment, leaving you feeling neglected and unimportant. Later, when he finally woke up, he muttered a half-hearted apology for missing the date. His words lacked sincerity, and he clearly didn’t understand how much it meant to you.
A few weeks later, you found yourself in front of an enraged demon who hated that a human was in Devildom - a hater of Diavolo. Panic surged through your veins as you fled and desperately dialed your boyfriend's number. The phone rang endlessly, but he never picked up. Your heart pounded in your chest, fear gripping you tighter with each passing second. With no other options, you called the older brothers.
They arrived in time to help you before the demon could hurt you more or kill you. Exhausted and shaken, you returned to the House of Lamentation, your body aching from the ordeal. You headed straight to Belphie's room, your emotions a tumultuous mix of fear, anger, and betrayal. As expected, he lay in bed, barely awake. Even after he noticed your tear-streaked face, disheveled hair, and minor cuts on your skin, he remained lying down.
"What's wrong?" he asked calmly, his voice lacking genuine concern.
That was the final note. Your emotions broke, and you yelled at him in a cracking voice. "I almost died today because you wouldn't answer your phone! I was in danger, and you were just sleeping!"
"Sorry."
A weak apology was all he could offer, and the next instant, his eyes shut again. He was asleep once more. You stood there, stunned and heartbroken, staring at his sleeping form. Did he not care that you had nearly died? The memory of your past death at his hands flashed before your eyes, reminding you of the cruel reality. What else were you expecting from someone who had once killed you? The weight of your disillusionment settled heavily in your heart as you turned away, feeling more alone than ever before.
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➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist
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hatakemrs · 2 days
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I'm having his baby!!ft. Gojo Satoru
Characters: Gojo Satoru X reader Based on Taylor Swift's song "But Daddy I love him"
Warnings: Cuss words and a lil suggestive at the end.
More Gojo as Taylor Swift songs:
You Belong With Me Enchanted
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"I'm having his baby.", You said it casually to the 3 teenagers standing before you.
There was a moment of silence before they all screeched in unison, " WHAT?!"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y/N SENSEI?"
*YOU'RE PREGNANT?"
"YOU ARE HAVING GOJO-SENSEI'S CHILD?"
Yuji and Nobara bombarded you with questions while Megumi stood there, questioning his existence.
" That's kinda gross.", Yuji made a face then quickly corrected himself.
"I- I don't mean the baby, I- I- you know to know you and sensei did it-"
Nobara slapped Yuji on his head forcing him to stop.
You stood there holding your laugh while the students started to bicker among themselves. You were going to tell them It's a prank but then came your husband.
"Yoo what's going on?"Gojo waved his hand as he greeted his students.
" YOU." Nobara pointed at him accusingly.
"What? I didn't even do anything. Why are you guys looking at me like that?"
"You didn't tell us Y/n-sensei is pregnant.", Megumi pointed out.
" Y/N IS WHAT?"
"Oh shit he didn't know either.", The three of them thought.
Gojo now turned to face you, horror in his face
" Love why- why didn't you tell me? You- you told our students first but not me? Did I do something wrong?"
God you forgot how much of a dramatic person your husband is.
"Satoru, listen it's not like that.I just-", you were cut off by the second year students.
" Hey guys, what are you doing here?",Panda asked.
"Y/n sensei is pregnant and she didn't tell Gojo sensei-", Yuji received another hit from Nobara as he said this.
" WHAT?"
"TAKANA?"
"I think you guys should talk about this in private-", Maki stared at the two of you, throwing a disgusted look at Satoru.
"GUYS!" I'M NOT PREGNANT", You finally managed to speak over the commotion.
"HUH?
"I'm not pregnant. But you all should see your faces.", You let out a laugh after watching their confused expression.
" Why would you say that then?"Megumi asked.
"It was a prank, guys. I heard this lyric in a Taylor Swift song so I decided to prank you three. Didn't know it would lead to this. It was still funny though."
"You two are really made for each other.", Yuta said with a sigh.
"Tuna Mayo", Inumaki nodded his head.
Gojo was silent among all this. You could tell he was thinking of something.
After all the students went away, he hugged you from the back.
" You know I was so happy when I thought you were pregnant.", Gojo pouted.
"I'm sorry love, didn't think you would be a part of this joke too."
*You owe me an apology, you know right?", he whispered in your ear.
*Okkk and what do you want me to do?"
"Make your prank a reality."
You blushed hard understanding what he meant. "Satoru, we are at work now!Don't say things like that", you scolded him
He smirked, " You started this love, don't back out on me now."
"See you tonight", he winked as he left you standing there being a blushing mess.
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A/n: Thank you for reading<3
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dontexpectmuch · 21 hours
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i know how much you guys love this series, so i give you a new part. this one how ever will be;
comments/feedback is highly appreciated! please, im getting desperate :d
Habits Jude Bellingham might develop before you guys get into a relationship!
(a Lost in Madrid drabble!)
it is no secret that jude just loves to talk. he genuinely enjoys it so much to share any and every thought that goes through his mind, no matter how small it might be. he couldn’t tell when it started exactly, but suddenly he found himself on his way to you, a tired student that just wants to finish their work. as soon as he lifts his hand, knocks on your door and enters the room his lips start moving, talking so lively and fast that you need some time to register what is even happening.
“what do you mean ‘m talkin’ your ear off? you literally study literature and shit!” - “it’s more about reading, jude.” you sigh, wishing for any kind of help at this moment.
it is also nothing new for you to receive messages from jude during your quiet evenings when you decide to stay home. jude recently got into sending audio messages, you being his number one victim [forced] friend, whom he shared this new passion with. and most of the times he won’t even say anything important. he’ll just sing a new spanish song he has learned that past week. and he will sing. no matter how terrible it sounds and how much it makes your ears bleed. though, you also always listen to those audios, even though you know what the content will be.
“jude?” opening your door after hearing a desperate knock, you did not think that you would see your [not] friend standing there. he looks tiredly at you, clothes wrinkled and sandals on, “mum wanted me to bring you some cake she baked.” he gives you the tupperware filled with slices of cake, energy low. you feel your shoulders relax as you look up at him, “tell her i love her, please.” he just nods. and even though he always complains to you about how he is not some delivery boy, he can’t help but get excited at the thought of seeing your soft eyes when you receive food his mum made. it makes him feel giddy inside.
he makes you trip purposely whenever you walk in front of him, and then giggles and jogs away to join the others on the field when you send daggers his way with your glare.
he forces you to play two-touch, even though you have told him multiple times already that you cannot play really well. he quite literally forces you to become better, giving you tips while making you pass the ball against the wall back and forth. “i don’t want to do this anymore, jude.” - “well, that’s too damn bad.” his gaze serious as he corrects your form once more. “bitch.” you murmur under your breath, praying for him to just disappear somewhere and leave you alone.
“what?” you ask as you look up from your notes, eyes wide as you watch jude place a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll onto your desk. “i heard that you like sweets, or whatever.” he says, [desperately] wanting to look cool. your heart starts to pick up in speed when you look back and forth between jude and the things he just gave you, warmth spreading through your body. “thanks.”
“watch me.” he smirks at you, who looks quite annoyed tired at him. “i’ll hit this first time.” - “like you did to me on my first day here?” - “dude! i told you not to talk about it anymore, ‘t’s a sensitive topic for me, ‘kay?”
heartfelt conversations between you are not as rare as one might think. whenever jude comes to you to talk your ear off while toi work on your research, you sometimes tell him about your own stuff. that leads to various topics you two discuss, which also results in sharing some intimate thoughts. it makes jude, who usually looks so confident and well put together, look more human, like a 20 year old guy who also learns something new every day.
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surpriseee! hope you like it!! :)
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He's My Man (Part 2)
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Summary: The reader isn't quite so sure if she can trust Russell with her secrets but he's decided she's going to get his help, whether she wants it or not. Reluctantly she accepts but in the process realizes she might actually be starting to care about him...
Masterlist
Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader
Word Count: 4,500ish
Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, mentions of death, angst, fluff
A/N: Ooooh things are heating up! Please enjoy!
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Russell stared at you with what one could only describe as a look of wonder. You didn’t exactly blame him. Eating four large cheese danishes and chugging back a week’s worth of coffee in the span of fifteen minutes was enough to make anyone’s eyes widen.
You tossed your trash in his motel waste bin when you finished and returned to your seat at the tiny corner table. With an obnoxiously loud slurp of even more coffee, Russell titled his head, shaking it slightly.
“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room. He straightened in his seat, pausing a beat. “So. What’s this long story?”
Your fingertips rattled against the side of the large styrofoam cup, a small amount of heat radiating through. Now that you’d had some time to think, or rather stress eat, you knew this was a mistake. A big one. You needed to kick Russell out of your life and the sooner the better.
“I think you have the wrong idea about what’s going on and I thought it better we talk in private,” you said. Russell wore a weary expression, his eyes dissecting your every micro-movement. “I’m not interested in a relationship or a date or conversation. I don’t do that considering my line of work and I imagine you keep things casual with yours. So you take your money and consider this a warning. Contact me again and I will have you dealt with, understand?”
Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a clenched jaw. You narrowed your eyes in response, Russell picking at his bandage without realizing. 
“Stop that,” you mumbled when he kept doing it, his lip twitching up in a not so friendly way.
“You threaten me and in the next breath are worried about my damn stitches? I don’t think you realize just how good I am at my job,” he said, placing both hands on the table, folding them together. You swallowed, Russell staring so intently you had to glance away. “Alright. Back at the coffee shop, that was a moment of bravery and now it’s passed? Tough shit. We’re in the weeds now and we ain’t leaving until I know you do your job of your own free will. Understand?”
“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving.
“Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”
“You’re one guy.” You shook your head. “Drop this or you’ll wind up dead or worse.”
“I made my living doing jobs where if I fucked up I’d wish I were dead over the alternative. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. But you opened the box. You can’t just close it again.”
“Yes, I can. Goodbye, Russell.” You grabbed your coffee and headed for the door, pausing when you had a hand on the handle.
But what if he could help…he was ex-special ops…
Russell’s hand slid over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You frowned, a reassuring smile greeting you.
“Do you like your job?” he asked. 
“S’complicated,” you whispered.
“How complicated?”
“Jobs like yours…that’s up to me to do that stuff but I…I work for someone else.” You found Russell’s unreadable green eyes and sighed. “I’m a fixer for the local mafia. It’s not a job you get to quit and stay alive very long.”
Russell contemplated your words, lips forming a thin line before he nodded. “I can take care of that assuming your story checks out.”
“My story?” you asked, Russell humming. “Why would I lie-”
“You could be playing me for any number of reasons. Like I said, I’m going to check your story out and if it’s all kosher, we’ll figure out where to go from there. Capiche?”
“Fine,” you grit out, shaking his hand away. “But do it quietly. You got three days.”
Late Evening
Your eye actually twitched when you answered your front door that night to find not your pizza delivery man before you but Russell fucking Shaw. He wore a deep navy utility jacket that hung loosely around his trim waist and a pair of black jeans. You weren’t sure why but his shift from lighter colored clothing this morning to this dark, edgy look made him look as dangerous as you expected he was.
“Russell,” you said. He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, eyes roaming over your body. You glanced down at your soft pale yellow pajama shirt and matching shorts set, huffing when he slipped past you inside.
“You totally are the kind of woman to having matching jammies,” he chuckled. You gripped the door tight, ready to kick him out just as your delivery driver pulled up.
“Just…take off your boots.” Two minutes later you had your pizza and garlic knots on your kitchen counter while Russell leaned back against it, his jacket since removed and tossed on the back of your couch. He wore a black zip up that was undone over a black t-shirt, Russell shifting at your growing unease.
“Listen,” he said, holding up his hands. “You got questions but first off, I’m not here to hurt you. This is just what I wear when I need to go…looking around places I ain’t exactly invited into.”
“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.”
“You have sauce all over your shirt.” You glanced down, spotting marinara drops all over your short sleeve button up top from where you’d had the edge of the pizza box pressed against your torso as you’d carried it in. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, though. Makes a guy feel special.”
“I’m on edge, alright?” you snapped, grabbing a towel and trying to get most of the sauce out. “Plus I just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”
“Figured you for a oversized men’s t-shirts kind of gal but little sets from french boutiques suites you.” You froze, Russell dropping his hands. “I know all about your shopping habits. You have high quality taste, much richer than the average suburbanite.”
“And?” you said, tossing the towel down, hands going to your hips. “Are you about to kidnap me and turn me over to the mafia or what?”
Russell approached you slowly, gently picking up the towel from the floor and dabbing it with some dish soap. 
“If I had wanted to hurt you or take you or whatever else is going through your head, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.” He rubbed the towel against the damp spot on your shirt, letting the fabric get soapy. “Let that soak for a few minutes and then after you have some dinner, toss it in the wash. It’ll come out good as new.”
“How do you know that?” you asked, Russell hanging your towel on the oven handle. 
“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”
You weren’t sure how he’d seen you swipe the knife from the butchers block but figured he had a point. If he’d wanted to screw you over, he would have done it already. After excusing yourself, you returned in a pair of skinny black joggers and a slightly cropped gray AC/DC shirt to find Russell had already plated two sizeable portions for yourselves. 
“See? Now that’s a look more fitting for the princess of darkness,” he chuckled.
“That’s queen of darkness to you,” you said, taking a seat at the island in front of one of the plates. “Do me a favor, lover boy. Grab me a guinness from the fridge.”
“Dark stout. Always a good choice.” He got out two, removing the cap for you before retreating to the other side of the island.
“As much as I love uninvited house guests who welcome themselves to my food and beer, why are you here, Russell?” You took a large bite of pizza, Russell long necking his beer for a moment. 
“Yet I don’t see you kicking me out. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen for me, Y/N,” he teased. You growled, Russell’s eyebrows raising in amusement. “Hot damn, woman. I love when you get all grr. Tells me you are a force to be reckoned with.”
You rolled your eyes, Russell taking an extra large bite. “Stop flirting and talk.”
“Why can’t I do both?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “But to answer your original question, I’m here because your story checked out and that’s kind of a problem.”
“Excuse me? Why is that an issue?”
He set his plate down and gripped the island, leaning over it slightly. “Y/N. I can call up a few friends and wipe out a local mafia family no problem.”
“Awesome. Then what’s the fucking problem?” Russell tilted his head, like you’d just walked into some kind of trap he’d set.
“Y/N. Despite all the obvious sexual tension brewing between us, you failed to mention that you have a boyfriend. You know, the head of this fucking mafia family. The boyfriend that buys you those fancy french pajama sets? The one that bought that espresso machine over there? Girl, you better explain yourself because I am not a hired gun.”
You chewed quietly for a few moments under the heated scrutiny of Russell’s gaze before you pushed the plate away.
“My dad was an accomplished doctor. He was very well respected. I grew up very comfortably until I was about eight.” Russell loosened his stance and began to eat while you decided what he needed to absolutely know. “My dad unknowingly saved a mobster’s life one night in the ER. Mr. Lauter.”
“The former head of the mafia and this guy, Owen, your supposed boyfriend’s dad?” You nodded before taking a big swig from your bottle.
“Well, that pissed off Mr. Elpine who had almost had a successful hit on Mr. Lauter. Elpine tried to get my dad to kill Lauter. Dad refused and the next morning on the way to school, the brake lines in our car didn’t work. Dad and I walked away. Mom and my brother didn’t. Dad was scared Elpine would come after me again.”
“Your father went to Lauter for protection,” said Russell. You picked up your pizza as he put together the rest of the pieces. “Lauter offers him protection for saving his life but something happens and your dad ends up working for Lauter as his fixer.”
“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy. PTSD for sure, a mental break too. I always guessed there was some brain trauma after the accident that never healed. He got real bad when I went to college. Bad enough that Lauter stepped in when my dad attacked me when I came home for the holidays. Lauter killed him and the fucked up part was I wasn’t even upset. My real dad had died when I was a kid. But…when a mob boss kills for you whether you wanted them to or not-”
“They think they own you for life.” You nodded. “So you became the fixer.”
“They let me finish college under the condition I come back and work for the family. They leave me be except for when I need to patch someone in the crew up. It’s honestly not that bad. They gave me a lot of money over the years. I hate to say this but Mr. Lauter was pretty good to me.”
Russell cleared his throat. “You do know how fucked up what he did to you is, right?”
“Of course I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “But compared to my dad and Owen, he was the lesser evil.”
“I came across the fact Mr. Lauter died about three weeks ago from heart disease.” You hummed. “Tell me about this fuckface, Owen.”
“Dude has had a crush on me since he was fucking twelve. He has it in his head that the family owns me, literally. Lauter always reined him in but since he’s been gone, Owen’s been…pushy. Telling the crew I’m his girlfriend, asking them to follow me. Thankfully, and this is why this is so weird, I grew up around a lot of the guys. Making me work and fix people, fine. But some kind of forced romance? They aren’t cool with it, at least they’re kind of ignoring Owen. I’ve kept Owen off my back because he’s grieving and busy trying to take over but he’s going to back on my ass soon. This time, those guys will have to listen to their new boss.”
“So…I take out Owen and you think you’re in the clear. You could have just said that.” He finished off his beer and washed his hands at the sink. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going grab essentials, and I mean essentials, while I pack up your dinner in what I expect is some color coordinated tupperware. Then you’re going to take my car and drive to Elmhurst Camping Grounds. It’s about four hours north of here and no, you will stop for anything so use the bathroom before you go and I’ll pack you a snack. You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”
“I feel like if I ask questions you’ll just tell me I don’t want to know.” Russell smirked.
“I love that big brain of yours.” You rolled your eyes but felt a tiny smile on your face. “Warming up to me are we?”
“Fuck no. But uh, who the hell are you sending me to?”
“My baby brother. Don’t worry. His ugly mug will keep you safe.”
Four Hours Later
“Uh, hi,” you said, practically bouncing up and down at midnight in front of a strange tall man at a very nice airstream RV. 
“Y/N,” he said as you forced a smile. “Bathroom is right there-”
You darted past him and into the small cubby bathroom, grateful after the long drive. The man was waiting leaned against a small counter space when you exited, a temporary bed made up behind him in what looked like a breakfast nook.
“Sorry to barge in. Russell said not to stop for anything.” 
“S’alright,” he said. “Bed’s made up if you want to crash. I’m going to stay up a bit longer by the fire. You’re welcome to join if you like.”
“Thanks, uh…” you said, a very brief smile on his face as you tried to remember what Russell had called him.
“Colter. It’s not a problem.” He skirted by you and outside, taking a seat in a foldable camping chair. You had questions but for the moment, all you wanted was to get some rest. 
You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped. 
“Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.
“Morning,” he said, slowly backing up to the bedroom. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Not a problem,” you said, catching a whiff of coffee. 
“Mug are in the first cabinet if you want a cup. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said. He excused himself to his room and slid the divider shut, leaving you to the rest of the airstreamer. 
A moment later you were outside in front of a small fire, sitting in a chair with warm coffee in your hands. It was cool and you wished you’d thought to pack a jacket in your haste last night.
You were rubbing your arms when something was draped over your shoulders, a thick heavy hoodie. 
“Russell got you out of there pretty quick, huh?” asked Colter, taking the mug while you shrugged into the warm fleece.
“Yeah. All I grabbed was my wallet, some cash and my computer. He told me I could buy clothes here,” you said. Colter handed you back the mug and took a seat beside you.
“I checked his car. He had a duffel full of his clothes in there I brought inside. You can use his stuff, or mine, until we can hit a store.”
“Thanks,” you said, smelling Russell’s deodorant on the fabric. Colter saw you tug the hood up, a question on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it. The air was still and quiet apart from the crackle of fire and morning birds. 
“So,” said Colter, not looking at you as he drank. “You and Russell…you like, his girlfriend-”
“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just met the guy yesterday. All I did was patch him up.”
“Right.” You sunk lower in your chair, slurping loudly.
“Were you special ops like him?” you asked. Colter shook his head.
“Civilian. Never had any formal training, just what we grew up with.” Well, that was an interesting statement. What the hell did it mean though? “Our father was a survivalist, taught us things.”
“Oh. My dad was a little out there too.” Was that why Russell was so adamant about helping you out of your situation? No. Maybe it played a part, but no. He’d wanted to help before you told him that. “Does Russell do this sort of thing often?”
“No clue. First time I talked to him in years was two days ago. I helped him find a friend of his. I was there when he got that bullet hole in him you fixed.”
Alrighty then. Russell was becoming more and more intriguing by the second. 
“So you don’t know a lot about him then,” you said. Colter shrugged.
“I guess I’m figuring him out too but he’s a good guy. He’s somebody you want as a friend.” You hummed, finishing your coffee off. Colter excused himself to get you more and returned with a fresh cup, steam billowing from within. 
“You trail run?” you asked, Colter’s eyes showing a flash of surprise. “Muddy sneakers by the door. I did cross country in school.”
“I try to get out most mornings. The hot water should be good to go in about five minutes if you want a shower.” 
“Thanks.” You licked your lips as you remembered the sight of him exiting the bathroom not long ago. Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…You shifted in your seat, squeezing your legs together to try and get a hold of yourself. Colter smirked slightly in his seat. “What?”
“I’m good at reading people is all.”
“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down. Colter only smiled as he looked away to the fire.
“You’re wondering if Russell works out and picturing him naked.” You glared at him but it did nothing to hide the heat radiating off your cheeks. “Hey, you’re a grown woman. You can do as you please.”
“I think I will take that shower now.” You stood and set the mug down on the ground, shooting Colter one last look. There’d been no malice or teasing in his voice. He was simply being straight with you. “Listen. I just…I haven’t exactly been around good guys much, or ever. I’m not saying there’s anything there beyond physical attraction, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, looking at you like you were the worst liar in the world. “Whatever you say.”
You grumbled and went inside to take a very cold shower.
Three Days Later - Spokane, Washington
“Hey, Colt,” you said, pushing up the long sleeves of Russell’s gray henley you wore. Colter hummed around the piece of grilled chicken in his mouth as you spun your laptop around from the other side of the airstream’s dining table. “Could she have gone here? Looks like a decommissioned game trail.”
“Yeah, yeah that fits,” he said with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing quickly so he could take a closer look. You returned to your own dinner, Colter mentioning he was going to take a look after dark. 
Things had fallen into an easy pattern with the two of you. Colter was very different than his brother but it wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t talk much and worked as a rewardist. He’d planned on sticking around the east coast for when Russell met up with you again but an urgent case in Washington popped up. You’d spent most of the past three days driving cross-country behind Colter’s truck and the airstreamer, learning what the hell a rewardist was.
Colter had told you about the case at first to keep your mind off of Russell but you’d reluctantly taken an interest and now were deep in the weeds of helping him locate a missing young woman.
“You want to come look with me?” asked Colter, breaking you out of your train of thought. You blinked, a small smile on his face. “Come on. It’ll get you some experience with rewardest work and stop you from doom scrolling.”
“Alright,” you sighed. While you appreciated Colter’s attempts to make you feel better, you were starting to get very concerned. You hadn’t heard from Russell since you left your house a few days ago and there was nothing in the news about the local mafia members being killed. Or him.
Colter rubbed your back when you helped him unhook it from the airstream. He tended to do that when you started to get stressed out. He hadn’t been lying before. He really was good at reading people. 
“Colter,” you said in the dark truck, the hum of the vehicle quiet in the cab as he drove. “What if something happened to him and he needs our help?”
“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window, trees passing by. 
If only it were that simple.
It was two in the morning by the time you and Colter made it back to the camping grounds. You’d found Martha in not too great of shape but she was alive and the doctors said she’d make a full recovery with time. Colter has tried to give you some of the reward money for helping but you hadn’t done all that much in your opinion. 
“Stay here,” he said when he turned the truck into your lot and you spotted a dark figure sitting by the fire. He took his gun from the back of jeans and got out, pausing halfway out the door. He smiled over at you and you caught the dark figure give an awkward little wave. “Should I tell him how much you’ve been worried?”
“Not. A. Word. Colter,” you said before hopping out and happily rushing over to where Russell rose to his feet. You didn’t realize you were giving him a hug until he was laughing, returning it and lifting you off the ground. 
“I missed my queen of darkness too,” he chuckled, setting you down with a smirk. You scoffed, Russell’s eyebrows raising at your attire. “Is that my jacket? And shirt?”
“Why waste the money on new stuff,” you shrugged, Russell grinning like an idiot. “Stop that.”
“I’m sure that was the reason.” Colter came over, the boys sharing a nod. “You keep my little delinquent out of trouble?”
“She’s a breeze,” said Colter, taking a seat. “Even helped with my latest case. She should try the rewardist thing. She’s good at it.”
“Maybe. All I want to know is am I good?” you asked. Russell took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, the tension running of out your body. “Thank you, Russell. Thank your friends too. I’ll pay you guys-”
“No payment. This was because you’re my friend, plain and simple. Just knowing you’re safe is more than enough.” You smiled, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. “You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“How-”
“In the morning. I need to catch up with my little brother.” You nodded, enjoying the feel of his heavy hand as it ran over your head. “Go sleep, Y/N. You’re exhausted.”
You reluctantly peeled yourself away and went inside to find your makeshift bed had been done up for you already. You didn’t even try to fight the flutters in your stomach when you spotted a yellow pajama shirt and shorts set neatly folded on top. There was a note beside it, a stupid ass smile finding it’s way onto your face.
Brand new. Imported from France. Don’t get used to fancy ass presents like these. I ain’t made of money. Even if these are soft as fuck and I totally wish they made these for men. I still think you’d look better wearing a band tee to bed.
Russ
P.S. They had a sale so I got you something else too. Check your backpack.
You shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor, taking out a very elegant black bag. You undid the tissue paper and went wide eyed. 
Inside was a very, very, fancy black lace bra and multiple pairs of gorgeous bikini style undies in soft muted colors. There was another note waiting for you inside, your heart stilling.
No strings attached. Hopefully these will cover you for a little while until you can get settled again.
“Oh, Russell,” you said quietly, thumbing over the bag, smiling to yourself as your insides did very happy backflips.
He wasn’t just a pretty and protective face. He was thoughtful too.
And you were starting to fall for a guy that’d most likely be gone by this time tomorrow.
Fuck.
__________
A/N: Part 3 coming soon!
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