#but it does not! so their name will Not show up on your blocked list

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stricken 1

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, ostricization,and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you were scarred by a storm years ago and its bringer has come to upheave your life once more.

Characters: God of War!Thor

Note: I did this finally.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You always know when a storm's coming. The hairs on your arms stand and your skin burns hot. The smell of rain is tinted by another scent. That of burning flesh and ash. Your scars raze as if struck again and for a moment, you cannot hear or see. 

Slowly, the scent of rain returns to you and the noise of the patter, sometimes more a hammering, as if to remind you of its bearer. The thunder is his war cry. The lightning his wrath. You do wonder why then it should’ve come down on you. 

You keep your hood up, your chin low. Though you hide, the villagers know who you are, they know of your misfortune. The calamity wrought into your flesh in veined scars. Your face is marked with the storm, zigzagged with lines as your left eye is struck blind and white. 

Yet it isn’t your name they whisper as you stop at a stall to buy grain. It is his. The Prince of Asgard. The might God of Thunder. The monster who made you like this. 

The air is thick, roiling with unspent moisture, and the clouds threatening in a grey ripple. You should have come yesterday. You should not have waited so long.  

You trade your coin and move on, gathering the small rations you can afford. You’ll return to your hovel, gather what you can from the garden, and check the traps for rabbits. It should get you through, though the frost does eat away at your harvest.  

As you have it, between the chirping of your disfigurement, there is worse creeping from the north. The snows have fallen heavy and whole lakes have frozen to the silt. You do not believe all you hear but you know better than to disregard the nip in the air. 

Your basket remains like but you’ve spent your limit. Your cloak shifts with your movement and you shrink lower as you near the group of adolescents feigning at battle with sticks. Their audience glimpses your passing and you hear their voices mingle with laughter. 

“It’s that crone. The burnt one,” comes a bit louder than is meant. 

You don’t stop. You don’t show that you’ve heard it. There is nothing to be said.  

“Cursed, by Thor’s hammer,” another chortles, “it is said he was forging and struck the blade too hard. In his wrath, he sent a storm. A mongrel like her drew it upon herself, broken like the sword.” 

Certainly, that too is a story to be met with skepticism. One cannot guess at what the gods do in Asgard nor why they bring only misery and chaos to Midgard. You cannot disagree that the storm was no favour to you. A curse, certainly, though the meaning can never be known. 

You move along, leaving behind their whispers and their sneers. Off to your solace, to your safe. Out of the path of any wandering soul or any blowing storm.  

⛈

A storm rages without. Water swirls and batters your small abode, built against the wall of a cave on a carpet of peat. You cover your ears as the winds whistle and wail. You quake beneath your cloak, eyes locked shut as you cower away from the tempest so much as your own memories. 

The blinding white flash and the scalding hot pain. Your fingers creep up to your chin and feel the rigged scars. You can never forget, no matter how you try. You can never be as you were. You are marked, you are damaged, and as the villagers have it on their tongues, broken. 

Even your family would not have you. You remember your mother’s wail as your father drove you off like some beast. ‘The gods have smited you themselves. You cannot remain or you will wreck ruin upon us all.’ 

Days of walking and tears, like the very storm that scarred you, a haze through which you trod until you could go no more. Until your head would split and the burnt flesh began to weep. A woman found you on the forest floor, rotting away from the corruption spreading through you. 

You don’t remember much of her. Only her touch and how she healed you. She bid you off with the cloak you wear and some food for your travels. Then you were alone and thus you remain. Not even the thieves will steal from you, nor the criminals darken your door. A curse is worth no piece of gold, no drop of blood. 

The pounding of rain relents. A chill creeps beneath the slats of your door and seep into the walls. You fill the earth with what kindling you have, the clay chimney puffing smoke up through the center of the roof. You hold your hands out to warm but find little comfort. 

You settle on your side beneath your cloak and stare into the flames. You shiver. It’s cold. Very cold. Typically, the rain chases away the chill but this is different. You can feel it in the ground. You curl up tight, clinging to your warmth, let your eyes close. Sleep comes but for lack of and not peacefully. 

Your dreams are a maelstrom. There a flames and ice, one after the other, sometimes together. Sharp pointed shards frozen and hanging, then licking tendrils of heat from below. You are lost in the land of sleep, tortured by a world built of your own fears and follies. 

You wake stiff and frigid. The fire has gone out. Not even smoke remains in the pile of ash. You move carefully, bones aching, scars tingling. You touch the hard ridging along your cheek and your fingers pulse from the cold. You can see your breath. 

How can it be? It was sunny before the rain. You get your feet under you and stand with a groan. Near the door, a strange dusting of white powders around the door, flecking in from beneath and around the edges. Snow? 

Were the tales true after all? You wince as suddenly your scars singe and sting. Ow. You recoil and cover your face with your hands, hissing and wheezing through the pain. It hurts terribly. Worse than even the first strike.  

You pull your hands away as your eyes water and you blink through your tears. You can see, at least in your good eye. There is no lightning, it is only in your mind. You shakily turn and search around. You cry out again as the agony surges once more in your head. 

Why? 

Your legs quake. Something is amiss. The frost has come and this meagre hut cannot withstand it. You take your rucksack and put what you can carry into it. Your water skin is strung across your chest and your pack upon your back. You wrap your boots with rags and your hands too. You haven’t the clothing for the cold but you will need to find something. Perhaps skin a hare or two. 

The door blows inward almost as soon as you touch it, another gust nearly bowling you over. You sway with the wind and cling to the crooked doorframe. You shove yourself out, just as quickly flattened to the wall by a flurry of snow. It dusts your face coldly and you pull up your neck scarf over your nose and pull your hood into place. 

You set off, hunched, reaching with your arms as you lift your knees over the treacherous heaps. You keep close to the rock wall. The thought of turning back stops you but it seems as foolish an idea. The hovel cannot hold for much longer. You need to get to the mouth of the cave and chance a sleeping bear within. 

You sidle along, slowed by the snow and the wind, the former soaking through your clothing as the latter whips around your hood. Suddenly, a roll of thunder, like war drums, churns in the air. The word dims and the furor sounds again; louder, closer. 

You cry out and lift an arm to shield yourself instinctively. You curl your hand into the rockface and holler even louder, closing your eyes as your memory summons another storm. No, it cannot be. Not again.  

A deafening boom shakes the ground and knocks you to your knees. You crawl along, keeping low near the ragged stone, those hidden beneath the snow jabbing against your palms. You whimper and whine, blinded by the thickening curtain all around you. 

Yet you never heard of the god raining down snow upon the lands. Only the slaking rains and the hot violence of his bolts. Never this. What sword has he broken this time? Perhaps it was his very own hammer.

The thunder overhead continues its horrid thrum as more pulses in the earth. Boom, boom, boom. You feel it beneath your hands. Your knees come down clumsily as you scramble through the piling powder. You open your eyes and still cannot see. The world is smudge in gray white and black, the sky flashing and darkening from one moment to the next. 

You cry out again as your scars burn. You push yourself back on your heels and grasp your face as you shriek. It hurts! So bad! Your eyes well and flow over. Your body trembles and collapses. You writhe in the snow, contorting with the agony as your flesh feels as if it is splitting. 

Beneath the incessant pounding comes a rocky noise. Like laughter it curdles in the air and chases after you like the steady boom, boom, boom. Closer and closer, louder and louder, the earth quakes in tandem with the cacophony. 

“I’ve found another,” the deep voice scoffs and snickers, “ah, Heimdall, you must see this--” 

The craterous voice halts and the air still. The snow drifts but the wind stops and the thunder relents, the world seeming to hum. You scratch at your face as the flames grow unbearable. You must be alight. It can be the only reason for such pain. 

The large figure, a blurry silhouette in your skewed vision, looms like a mountain. He steps over you, sliding a foot between you and the cave wall and flips you onto your back. You stare up at the sky, rolling in sheets of grey and black, the dark figure standing above, blotting out the clouds. You sob and plead. 

“Make it stop!” You beg as your hood falls back, “kill me! Kill me! It hurts.” 

He bends as your eyes roll back and he grabs your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. He pulls you half off the ground, not a single grunt for the effort. You feel whoever, whatever it is, looking down at you; upon you. A rattle rises in his gritty throat. 

“And what are you?” He breathes. 

You feel another surge and babble, reining in your wild eyes as you quiver uncontrollably. You make yourself look at him. You shudder and shake your head. Shaggy red hair, a braided beard, and eyes so blue they jolt you. Ink marks one side of his broad face as he wears fur upon his soldiers beneath emblems of the godly lands. 

“It hurts...” you rasp, “I am dying.” 

“You...” he grabs your chin, holding you by your shoulder. His thumb extends up your face to touch the scars and you let out a shrill howl as the agony piques. You latch onto his thick arm and thrash. 

“It buuuuuuuurrnssssssssss,” you scream as your spine arches. 

“Hmm,” he hums and throws you into the snow. You continue your desperate wriggling, the fire softening but not leaving you completely, “Heimdall!” He calls out like a war horn, “get your skinny ass over here!” 

There’s a tinkle of coy laughter and lighter footsteps that land on the boulder above. Your eyes drift over and you see another shadow, this one hazier but smaller. A dusting of snow flies up beside you as the other man lands beside you. No, not a man. 

Heimdall? Son of Odin. 

“Oh, Thor, what trouble have you found--” 

“Another one,” the other growls. Not the other, Thor. The God of Thunder. The beast who marked you. “Father says they all must come.” 

“This one?” Heimdall muses as his voice spikes with humour, “why look at her. Pathetic—wait a moment... brother, is this your handiwork?” He squats to see you closer and snickers again, “why how very peculiar.” 

“Bring her,” Thor barks and spins on his heel, swinging his hammer, “we haven’t time--” 

“You bring her, brother. As you say, you are so much stronger--” 

“Just do it!” Thor snarls and a peel of thunder breaks through the clouds. “I need ale.” 

[tommysversion]

Jealousy, Jealousy [ Joel Miller x Reader / Tommy Miller x Reader ]

Summary: you walk in on Joel & Tess, despite your building chemistry with him. Hurt, you turn to his brother for comfort. Joel finds out, and he isn’t happy.

CWs: derogatory language / unsafe sex / age gap implied / oral sex (m!receiving) / cum play / cum eating / choking / alcohol usage / use of pet names / very little plot it’s just a spicy mess

Tag List: @joelsgirl @loquaciousferret @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab

Notes: like always, this is for the girls, the gays and the theys. I wanted to finish my other WIP but this took over. Have fun.

Buy Me A Coffee?

Part Two / Alt Version

The whiskey burns your throat on the way down. You’re on maybe your third or fourth, but it’s still not enough to burn away the sight and sound you came across earlier.

You don’t have any claim on Joel, not really. Nothing has ever happened between you, even though there’s been a few close calls, but you were almost certain that he felt the same way about you as you do about him.

Until you walked in on him and Tess. Now you can’t get the image out of your head, the sight of her beneath him, the sounds…

You slam your empty glass down on the bar. It’s a shitty dive of a place in the QZ, one you all know well enough.

“Whoa there.”

You turn your head to find yourself face to face with Joel’s brother, Tommy, concern etched into his face. He’s not bad looking, not really, but you’ve never really been interested in him. Until now. Now, he’s looking pretty fucking good. Or maybe you’re just noticing him. Who cares.

“Come on, let’s get you home before curfew.” He holds out his hand to you. You don’t need it, not really, you aren’t drunk enough, but you take it anyway, let him lead you out of the bar and onto the streets.

“Why’d you come looking?” You ask as you let him walk you home.

“You didn’t show up to drop off this afternoon. Figured something was wrong, figured I’d find you here.”

“Didn’t think anyone would notice. Joel and Tess seemed too busy to care.” You can’t help the bitterness that creeps into your voice as you mention it.

“Ah.” Tommy shrugs, “try not to worry about it. My brother’s an idiot.”

Normally you’d argue. Jump to his defence. Tonight you just don’t feel like it, too hurt by what you saw to argue. Reaching your apartment block, you turn to him.

“You gonna come in for a drink? Least I can do after you walked me home.”

You know what you’re implying, don’t mind if he takes the hint that you’re offering more than a drink. You almost don’t expect him to follow you, but he does, up the stairs and into your apartment, shutting the door behind you both while you fish out two glasses and a bottle.

“Make yourself at home.”

You pour the liquor while he drops himself down onto your couch, spread out and lazy. Really, he’s quite attractive. You’ve never really noticed before, and maybe it’s the fact that you’re so angry and hurt that’s making you see him in this light, but still.

You hand him one of the glasses, down your own before you sit yourself down on the floor by his feet. You’re being forward as hell and you know it, but you’re tipsy and hurt and you just want to forget for a short while.

He looks down at you, surveys you with dark eyes so similar to Joel’s. The thought makes your heart hurt, so you push it away.

“What are you doing, hon?” His hand comes down to catch your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him.

Tommy doesn’t know what’s going on between you and his brother. Knows that Joel’s an idiot if he doesn’t realise that you’re interested. If he was a better man, he’d push you away, but, well…

It’s been a while since he’s gotten anything, and if his older brother is too stupid to realise you’re right there, dumb enough to fuck around with your feelings and Tess? Well, he doesn’t mind being the collateral.

“Trying to decide whether or not to suck your cock.” You admit, not bothering to be coy as you look up at him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s holding you back?”

“You haven’t said that I can.” You shrug, fingers creeping up his thighs.

“There’s a pretty girl on her knees for me askin’ to suck my dick, you think I’m gonna say no?” Amusement colours his tone.

“Well… I wanted to be polite and ask.” You smirk as your fingers find the zip of his pants, tug it out the way, your small hand reaching in and wrapping around his cock, stroking lazily.

He just leans back into the couch, watches you as you rub your thumb over the head of his cock, brushing across beads of precum, collecting them on your fingers to lick them up.

“Christ…” his eyes darken as he watches you, your eyes on his as you lean in and press feather light kisses to the tip of his cock. He’s nice and big, thick, slightly curved, and you love the slightly salty taste of him.

You don’t like to brag, but you know you’re good at this, enjoy it even, pressing little kisses along the length of him, tiny kitten licks to the slit in the tip, teasing until he fists a hand into your hair and yanks your head down onto his cock, almost making you choke.

You recover quickly, sucking his cock like he’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, moving your head up and down, guided by the heavy hand in your hair.

“Fuck…” he rocks his hips up into your mouth, getting deeper into your throat, “such a sweet little mouth…”

You hum around him, urged on by the praise, eager to keep pleasing him, so desperate to be wanted…

You know full well this is messy and sloppy, your drool coating his cock, eyes watering slightly as you look up at him. You can’t see it, of course, but you’re a vision to behold, on your knees for him, mascara running down your face as your cheeks hollow out for him, his cock disappearing into your throat like you were made to take him.

God, he’s impressed, both by how well you worship his cock, and by how quickly you’ve worked him up.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty thing…” his hand releases your head, strokes your cheek lazily.

You pull away from him for a moment, wrap your hand around his cock and stroke slowly.

“Cum on my face.” You tell him, hazy with lust and drink. “On my tongue.”

He groans, moves to guide your mouth back to him, but you move faster, wrap your lips around him and let him rut up into your throat, moaning around him. Fuck, he tastes so good, exactly what you needed.

You can feel him becoming more erratic, groaning softly before he pulls out of your mouth, wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it roughly as your lips part, tongue flicking out to catch the hot ropes that spurt from his cock as he groans.

Fuck, you’re a sight to behold, on your knees, makeup a mess, lips parted with his cum on your tongue and your face. You lean in and lick him clean, swallow every drop you can get.

His fingers reach out, swipe through the mess he’s left on your lips, press them into your mouth.

“Suck ‘em, that’s a good girl.”

You do exactly as he says, swirl your tongue around his fingers until you’re satisfied they’re clean.

“You want me to -?”

You shake your head. You’re exhausted, your throat hurts, and while the offer is nice, you don’t think you can stay awake for it.

“Nah, ‘s okay. I just wanted to give you something.” You offer him a small smile as you get to your feet, watch him tuck himself back into his pants.

To his credit, he’s not a jerk. He makes sure you’re safely in your bed with a glass of water beside you before he heads off into the night, leaving you almost wishing you’d taken up his offer.

——

A week later, you’re sitting in the same bar with one of your friends, pointedly ignoring Joel a few seats away.

Once again, you’ve had a few too many to drink, and it’s loosening your tongue.

“So, what’s the deal with you and that guy anyway? The mystery man you were telling me about the other day?” Your friend knows exactly the right questions to ask, and while normally you’re not the bragging type, seeing Joel again has sent that spike of bitter resentment and jealousy through you.

Sure, it’s not like he’d ever promised you anything, but he’d damn well seemingly made it clear he was interested. Only for you to walk in on him fucking Tess like he loved her.

You hate him for it. Hate him for hurting you. More than that, though, you hate yourself for not being brave enough to confront your feelings.

But right now, you’re feeling spiteful, and you know damn well he can hear every word you say.

“Oh, it wasn’t really anything, just a one night thing.” You shrug.

“What did you say his name was again? Jimmy?”

“Tommy.” You run your finger around the rim of your glass.

“As in Miller?”

“Mmhmm.” You can feel Joel’s gaze burning into you as you speak. “He walked me home, one thing led to another…”

“Fuck, he’s so hot though…” your friend sighs, “I bet he has a great dick.”

“I mean… I liked it.”

You giggle, a very uncharacteristic sound, but still. You don’t regret what happened, not at all. You like giving head, and it wasn’t like he had an unpleasant dick. If anything, you kind of wish you’d let him fuck you. Maybe another time, seeing as Joel is clearly no longer interested.

“Are you gonna give me any details, or?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

“Outside. Now.”

You don’t need to look to know Joel’s pissed; you do anyway, are met with his stormy glare.

“Nice to see you too, Joel.”

“I mean it. Outside, now, or I’ll drag your ass out.” One look at him tells you he’s not kidding.

Sighing, you excuse yourself from your friend. Follow Joel out of the bar into the street, or rather, let him tow you out. Let him drag you by the wrist back to your apartment. Nobody wants to be caught in the streets at this hour.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You demand as soon as he’s slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t you what the fuck me.” He growls, crossing his arms over his chest as he backs you into the small room.

“I absolutely will, what’s your goddamn problem?” You hiss at him, furious. Furious and still hurt, because the last time you saw him he was fucking another woman, and no matter what you do you can’t get rid of that image.

“You! You’re my goddamn problem, running your mouth in that bar where anyone could hear you.”

You roll your eyes at him, your own temper flaring.

“How is what I was talking about any of your business?” You demand, glaring at him. “How is what I do any of your business?”

Admittedly you’re not very intimidating in comparison, but still.

“You were making a damn fool of yourself. Do you ever know when to keep your fucking mouth shut?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your brother? He seemed to know how to shut me up.” The words come out before you can stop them.

Joel exhales slowly, pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“Is there a reason you’re being such a goddamn bitch? Fucking my brother included.” He’s so damn frustrated right now, not understanding what’s gotten into you.

Usually you’re so sweet to him, the pair of you dancing around the mutual attraction you share. He’s not going to push it if you don’t, but maybe he’s misread things?

You stare at him.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You don’t know why I’m mad at you?”

He just stares at you.

“I heard you and Tess, you asshole. So yeah. I know that for all your sweet words and the way we’ve been dancing around the subject? That’s just how you are, right? Anything to get laid, I guess.” You spit the words.

Something in his gaze snaps as he crosses to you, backs you against the wall, slams one hand into the cracked plaster beside your shoulder, the other settling on your throat.

You’re too angry to be scared, even though you know he’s dangerous, know you’ve pushed him too far, like poking a goddamn angry bear.

“First, don’t fucking assume that you know any goddamn thing about what happened that day.” He’s leaning right down to you, you can smell the whiskey on him, but still you aren’t afraid.

“Second, don’t presume that I’m that sort of bastard. You really think I’d do that to you?”

You glare at him.

“You already have.” You hate that your voice shakes as you say it.

Joel sighs as he looks at you.

“I’ve known her almost as long as you’ve been alive. Almost but not quite. There’s a difference between me fucking her when it means nothing, and what you’ve done.”

You glare at him again, because you don’t see any difference.

“It may not mean anything to you, but it definitely does to her.”

“And that’s her fucking problem, I’ve made it goddamn clear to her that I don’t see her that way, that that would be the last time. Then you go and fuck my brother?”

Somehow, suddenly, it becomes important to clarify. As if somehow it will make him less angry.

“Technically, I didn’t fuck him.”

“You-“ Joel stops mid sentence and looks at you. “You didn’t?”

“No. I mean, I sucked his dick, but… I was angry, I was so fucking angry and I just wanted to feel something. I just wanted to feel wanted.”

Joel stares at you like he’s never seen you before. Like he’s trying to understand you.

“And I don’t make you feel wanted?”

“Not when I walk in on you fucking someone who hates me, no. Not particularly.” You look away from him, before you do something stupid, like cry, which is a very real possibility whenever you think about what you saw, what you heard.

“Guess I need to change that.”

His hand drops from the wall, the other one releasing your throat as he leans in and devours your unsuspecting lips in a kiss. It’s desperate and angry and hungry, but you cling to him, your fury and your need pouring into it as he lifts you up, carries you across the room and into your room.

You pull him down on top of you, not letting go when he sets you down on the mattress, kisses still full of fury and rage but of something else, too, something you’ve been holding back for far too long.

“Still can’t believe you let my goddamn brother touch you.” Joel growls it into the soft skin of your throat, grinding his cock against you, your clothes still in the way.

You shove your skirt up, hands finding his belt. He catches your wrists in one hand.

“Were you this fucking eager for him, too?”

There’s that dark glint in his eyes again, possessive and jealous, even though he started this, even though he knows that really, he has no right to be angry. It doesn’t stop him.

“Does it matter, Joel? You really think I’d have done it if you’d just fucking…”

“Just what, sweetheart?” He releases your wrists, only because he needs his hand to tear your panties down, cup your bare cunt in his rough hand.

“Just fucking admitted you wanted me first!” You snap at him, grinding yourself against his hand in spite of your temper.

“Yeah, well. We all make mistakes, don’t we?” He plunges two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt, effectively stopping you from answering with anything but a strangled moan.

Your hands tear at his belt, yank his jeans down, your hand wrapping around the length of him. Fuck, he’s big, bigger than his brother, thick and hard and dripping pre cum, all for you, all because of you, because in spite of how angry he is, he still wants you.

Just as you want him, your cunt aching and dripping onto his fingers as he fucks you with them, hard and fast and punishing.

“I should make you suck my cock, refuse to touch you; but if I do that, what’s to say you won’t go and whore yourself out to someone else?”

His words are dark, gaze feral as he looks down, watches his fingers disappear inside you.

“Better I just take you, ruin you for anyone else. You won’t want anyone else when I’m done with you, it’ll be nothing in comparison.” He leans in and bites your throat, right above your collarbone.

“Is that right?” Your hand strokes him roughly; you can feel how needy you are for him, feel yourself tightening around his fingers but it’s not enough, you need more.

“Don’t fucking push me, sweetheart.” He growls it, drags his fingers out of you, presses them to your mouth.

Automatically you part your lips, suck on his thick, rough fingers until they’re coated in your saliva rather than your slick, your eyes on him the entire time.

He groans, a sound that’s still closer to a growl than a moan.

“Fuck sake…” he’s still furious with you, that fury coming back tenfold at the lewd way you suck his fingers, as if they were his cock.

“This how you sucked him off?”

“I don’t know,” you challenge, “are you gonna fuck me like you fucked her?”

He glares at you, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that you’ve pushed him too far.

He does the opposite, moves so fast you can’t keep up, lines himself up and slams into you, every inch of his cock pressing deep. You scream out for him, half in pleasure, half in surprise.

Fuck, he’s so big it hurts, you feel so full you’re not certain you can take him, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t give you any time to adjust, one hand bracing himself on the mattress, the other gripping your waist to pull you onto his cock, over and over until your back arches off the bed.

“No,” he growls in answer to your question, “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

He’s relentless, pounding into you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, rough and hard, growling against your skin the entire time, covering every bit of exposed skin with bite marks and bruises.

“Joel…” it comes out half squeal, half moan as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, gets deeper inside you.

“That’s it, sweetheart, can feel how needy you are for me. Don’t think you’ll ever want anyone else, huh?”

You shake your head, mute except for mewls and sighs of pleasure, your nails digging into his arms, trying to hold on, but unable to think straight, barely able to see or focus.

“That’s what I thought, baby, gonna get you so fuckin’ addicted to my cock you’ll forget all about anyone else. This sweet pussy is all mine.”

Fuck, he wishes he’d done this sooner, wishes he’d avoided this entire fucking debacle, because he’s afraid it’ll always hang between you now, unless he fucks you so hard you forget.

“Already was, Joel, always been yours…” you moan it out for him, fingers finding the sweat damp curls of his hair and tugging, hard.

He moans, a deep, guttural sound that you immediately commit to memory, the sound alone making your cunt throb around him.

“Oh, you like that, baby? You like hearing what you do to me?” He shakes his head, grinds into you slowly before resuming his relentless pace.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna…”

Oh, he knows. He can feel you fluttering around him, tight little hole becoming even tighter as he fucks you, leans down and presses a searing kiss to your mouth before he pulls out of you.

You whine at the loss, but before you can say anything else he has you flipped onto your front, face buried in the mattress, ass in the air as he slams back into you, both hands on your waist as he fucks you so hard you see stars.

There’s no holding back, not anymore, your hands clawing at the mattress as your eyes roll back slightly from the pleasure, feeling yourself tighten painfully around him before your climax hits, hard and fast, washing over your entire body, leaving you shaking beneath him, screaming his name loud enough that the entire goddamn building can hear.

“That’s fucking right baby, you scream for me. You tell everyone that you’re mine.” He yanks your hair back, holds you upright as he ruts into you, thrusts becoming more and more sloppy and erratic with each movement.

“Every fuckin’ inch of you is mine, you hear me?”

“Yours, Joel, all yours…” you moan it for him, still on the high of your climax, entire body over stimulated.

“That’s goddamn right.” He slams in deep once more, one final time, grinds against you as he cums, fills your tight little pussy with hot ropes of his spend, groaning the entire time.

He stays there for a moment, catches his breath before he pulls out of you, flops down beside you.

There’s a moment’s pause, where you aren’t sure whether you’ll still see rage in his eyes if you look at him. Aren’t sure whether he’ll see it in you, either.

He saves you having to look, answers the unasked question by pulling you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t.” You reach up to touch your hand to his lips. “Don’t be. I should be the one apologising.”

“I think we both owed each other an apology, to be honest.” Joel says finally, “though, uh… maybe that was a good start?”

You laugh, lean into him.

“Skip the apology and go straight for the makeup sex, huh?”

Joel smirks, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, darling. That wasn’t the makeup sex. That was the I’m fucking furious sex. You’ll like the makeup sex a whole lot more.”

Smirking yourself, you roll on top of him, lean down so you can press a kiss to his mouth.

“I like the sound of that. How do I sign up for it?”

“You promise we won’t touch anyone else. Ever.”

You press a long, heated kiss to his parted lips.

“Easy enough for me.”

“Good.” Another smirk before he rolls you, pinning your smaller frame beneath him. “I fucked you like I hated you. Now you’re gonna find out how I fuck when I love you.”

You just whimper, wrap your fingers into his curls and drag him into another kiss. It’s going to be a long night.

[occamstfs]

Roommates’ Trivial Tiff

Pretty standard nerdy asshole to himbo TF, who doesn't love some cosmic justice ! -Occam

“You just don’t understand what it’s like dude. You have no idea how hard all this stuff is for me.” Brock was struggling to get through to his roommate, someone he has time and time again been more than cordial with. In response Harvey scoffs and rolls his eyes refusing to engage and instead doubling down, “I’m sure it’s real difficult with all your paid tutors and your-” 

“You’re not even listening bro! You like to think you’re so elevated, like you have all the answers but you don’t even try to understand what anyone else is going through.” Harvey grimaces and briefly tosses about whether or not this is true but stubbornly neglects to internalize the criticism, “Uhh, I do too?” Brock bites his tongue to prevent just blowing up at his roommate and instead he tries a different angle, “Oh yeah? If that’s the case then, bet you know a lot about me huh? Since we’ve been roommates for a year now,” pausing as he narrows his eyes briefly at Harvey, “and ostensibly we’re friends right?”

Harvey struggles not to display his ever present irritation as he retorts, “Of course we are, uh, dude.” Brock does a better job hiding his intentions as he issues a challenge, “so if we were to say, quiz each other you think you’d come up on top lil dude?” With this gauntlet laid there is little recourse in Harvey’s mind but to accept it, there are few times he enjoys showing off so much as in a trivia contest. So what he might have a less than pristine record of respecting oafs like his roommate, he is certainly not to lose in any battle of the wits regardless of topic or stipulations there may be.

Brock puts out his hand and states the stakes, “You can of course bow out whenever, but uh, how about every question the winner takes something from the loser?” Harvey was resolved to win before hearing the terms and is now spitefully even more eager now as he eyes Brock’s side of the room looking for whatever his prize is sure to be.

Without any further clarification Brock promptly launches into the game, “I guess we’ll start real easy yeah? Only fair.” Harvey feels resentment start to brew as he feels he’s being talked down to as Brock goes on, “For starters then, What’s my major?” Harvey audibly gulps and feels his face blanche as he scrambles to find such an incredibly simple answer. This is such an obvious and pressing piece of information it would be impossible not to have it on deck.

Seeing the hesitation Brock laughs incredulously, “God dude are you kidding? How could you not know this, I-” He shifts his jaw waiting for the second shoe to drop as it is suddenly clear he is about to clean house, this asshole is going to learn respect by hook or by crook. Harvey’s eyes that were just hungrily looking through Brock’s possessions now retread their path, searching for the answer, his eyes linger on some sports bandages and protein powder and he kicks himself for forgetting. “Well duh dude, you’re doing a sports medicine or a trainer degree or whatever. Sorry that I forgot what the proper name is, it’s not exactly high in the list of things I need to know.”

Brock stares down at the clueless nerd before him and slowly shakes his head. “Not even close Harv. It’s-” Before he can finish though Harvey stands and shouts, “Don’t fucking call me that! I bet you don’t know mine either!” This leaves Brock aghast, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “Of course I fucking do! You never shut up about it! I’m lucky if my headphones can block out you whining about homework while also constantly talking yourself up! It’s so, fucking, annoying!”

Hurt by this despite his typical apathy to others Harvey starts up once more, “Okay but you didn’t say-” “Computer Engineering.” Harvey blushes in shame, not over his disrespect but of getting the question wrong. Suddenly there’s a hum in the room and the shadows in the corner grow darker and Brock looks around, “Well I suppose that question really tees me up on what to take huh? I’ll take your major.”

“Wha?” caught on the other foot Harvey blinks and sees that his textbooks and assignments are suddenly piled on Brock’s desk. He feels anxiety rise in his chest unsure of what has happened though confident this must be a prank or something. “No no no that can’t be right? What is happening?” He then returns to look at his roommate once more, a scowl plastered on his face as Brock who, despite his impressive stature always aims to present as kind and gentle, cannot help but smirk as he feels he has gotten one over on this jerk.

He stretches, exposing his midriff and flexing  his arms behind his head, perhaps to try and allure or intimidate Harvey, he’s not sure, but Harvey is not going to just take this sitting down.Though at the present, he is too uncomfortable to even vocalize his discomfort as he stands there trying not to shake. Instead Brock begins once more, “Urgh kinda see what all that complaining was about now Harv, kinda got a lot on my plate now hah!”

Harvey stares daggers at his roommate, “Brock I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your dumbass ox brain. But it’s not funny, I’m sure you’re used to bullying little g-”

“Excuse me? I’m a bully!? I know you’re not saying that, I go out of my way to be kind, even to little chip on their shoulder assholes like you. I just,” Brock takes a deep breath and flexes his jaw before he continues. “It doesn’t matter actually. I trust you have a vested interest in trying again though right? Surely you want your major back?”

At the moment Harvey is caught between the idea that this is some kind of Christmas Carol-ass dream where he’s supposed to learn a lesson or once more that this is just a prank by Brock. Amenable as he’s always been, Harvey's convinced that behind this lunkhead is the vitriol of the typical jerk jock. In this impossible chance that this is reality though, he can’t just give up his major. He needs it to be an, uh? God what was, no what is his major anyway? 

Harvey looks around in shock as he suddenly can’t bring his current course schedule to his mind, but he was literally in class this morning right? He feels his coursework draining from his mind as fear and rage begin to rise in his frail body. Images of lecture halls and professors flash through his mind before they just as swiftly dissipate, somewhere within him deeper than memory he feels that he was studying something with numbers. Mathematics, physics, engineering, something he was good at. He is determined to get that back as he speaks up finally, “What is the next question.”

Brock smiles and toys around in his head, confident that he will end up on top. “How about you pick this one, give you a fighting chance.” Harvey purses his lips and struggles to produce a question that he knows the answer to that his roommate will not. Oh duh, he’ll just ask him a math question, easy! Certainly not the aim of the game but Harvey just needed to get his life back. “What’s a derivative.” 

“Kinda not in the spirit of the game dude but whatever. I took calc you know. It’s the rate of change in response to a variable. Now since you’re still being an ass how about I lob one back? How about you derivative 𝑓(𝑥)= 2cos⁡(𝑥)−6sec⁡(𝑥)+3?” Harvey is flat stunned, this is some entry level shit but he cannot for the life of him bring the information to mind. He’s just as sharp as he always has been but anything beyond rudimentary trig is continuing to trickle out of his mind. He meekly chuckles out, “uh easy, it’s f(x) equals, uh tan-”

There’s a blaring in his head as both men are aware of his immediate slip up. Energy once more rises in the air as Brock looks down almost pitifully at his roommate this time. “Now I am sorry for this Harvey but, oof that course load! Like you so relish to say, I am just not that bright hm?” Harvey shakes his head as he realizes the horror about to occur. Brock looks a little uncomfortable as he continues, “After failing to pull your little gotcha, I think I’ll just go ahead and have your intelligence.” 

Both men are instantly struck with headaches the likes of which neither could endure under normal circumstances. As soon as the pain arrives though it is converted into a deep profane pleasure. Pins and needles fill Brock’s mind as it becomes heavy. Ideas and understanding fill his mind as a euphoric warmth flows through him. Harvey had enjoyed learning without truly lifting a finger, he had flourished and gained knowledge through no effort on his part but simple absorption. Brock is overcome with the ease at which he will now flow through life. Equally is he overcome by the ecstasy within his body as it only continues to heighten.

Opposite him Harvey clutches at his head as now not only do his learned experiences at university vanish, but all of his capabilities as a student and academic. Even the pleading within his mind slows down as he feels his ability to swiftly process information breaks down. Harvey turns from the man across from him as Brock’s hands feel up and down his musculature in rapturous delight, just in time to see whatever books and tomes he had collected as trophies begin to fade into the aether along with his memories of reading them. He looks down at his hands in confusion and horror, even with his unaddled mind at full steam he could not make sense of what has befallen him. He knows this is not right.

He is unable to find any answers, though as he searches his brain he begins to find a pleasant warmth in the vacuum where there once was knowledge. While his mind has been emptied, the bulge in his crotch demands his attention, which shall likely be a constant issue now that his mind shall evermore be less than preoccupied. He feels his mouth start to fill with drool as he looks down at his cock as it almost feels larger than it should be. He almost laughs at the idea that from now on he may fully be thinking with his cock. He opens his mouth allowing drool to spill out which shocks him back to sense and he turns around to demand that Brock return this all to sense immediately.

Brock for his part is reclined in a chair just rubbing his cock over his shorts almost forgetting about what they had been doing not seconds earlier. He laughs as he sees the expression on Harvey’s face, “Woah dude sorry about that, got lost in my own mind for a second there! No wonder you had, or have rather, such an attitude problem. It all just came so easy to you didn’t it? I mean we could keep going if you want, what else do you have to lose yeah?” Harvey wipes the drool from his face and takes stock, he can still read, he is pretty confident he still passed high school, he remembers his life before whatever hell is currently happening as well as whatever this new reality is. He nods his head and pushes his erection down as it continues to rise upon seeing his roommate’s cocky repose. He answers, “let’s keep going. Your question right?”

Harvey can’t help but trace Brock’s traps as he shrugs, “If you insist lil bro. What’s my middle name?” He knows this one for sure, he would bring it out to tease his roommate as needed. Brock slams his arm down in excitement and shouts, “fucking Laurel!” then he recalls this is only half the battle, Brock must also get his wrong, “what’s mine?” Brock smirks once more and laughs as he stretches to scratch his back, his roommate hungrily staring, “you don’t have one dude”

The energy rushing between the two men is drastically different this time. Unlike the pleasurable prickles of knowledge or the soothing burn of loss there is a direct, deeper connection between the two. Brock’s grin grows wider as understands, “Oh I getcha, question’s a tie so we share the spoils Harv. Only fair that since you’ve the mind of a what, meathead? May as well have the body of one.”

Harvey watches as his roommate takes off his shirt, he feels a warmth in his chest as he stares directly at Brock’s pecs. His breath catches as he watches his roommate flex them and he feels a nervous energy begin to surge within his own. He’s never had pecs before but he feels his chest pushing, growing, into his shirt. He sees his nipples harden and grow too large to ever hide as his chest expands. His swallows to stop from drooling once more as he sees Brock pose and flex his massive biceps, forcing a burning delight down the whole of Harvey’s arms. He matches the pose of the powerful man he has spoken nothing but ill of and flexes, sweat immediately staining through his shirt as the energy and strain heats his body beyond reason.

At the same time both men drop into a crunch, there is a loud tear as the pants of both men tear as they reach the lowest point in the crunch as Harvey’s ass bursts larger and his thighs swell with strength well enough to carry his increasingly top heavy torso. Not only is Harvey to gain the muscle of a tight jock, but the masculinity expected. The cock he has been til now proud enough of pulses with his heartbeat, with each pump it gorges larger, veins thick as the ones surging down his biceps force his cock thicker and further down his strained shorts. He tears at his pants to free his bulge as his balls bloat to the size of eggs, they pull tight ass they’re exposed to the air and all the soreness, strain, and pain of his still growing body becomes agonizing delight.

Harvey’s eyes water as he struggles to even stay cogent with the pleasure and power coursing through him. He smells his new musk breaking through his senses. Through the burning bedlam across his body he feels a soothing burn as hair begins to sprout and thicken where every man should make clear his masculinity. His pubes thicken and curl beyond his waistline and his pits grow wild and begin to spread to make it clear they, nor his musk, can ever be contained.

He lies, sits, writhes, flexes, exists in nothing but pleasure for some time, no longer concerned for his lost intelligence, beyond the care of his education. His hands, larger and painted with still thickening hair, press tight against his body as he feels the new contours of his body. Each new valley and mountain is a testament to the ecstasy he shall now prioritize above all. Until his roommate’s voice breaks through the haze, “Fuck bro you’re really feeling yourself huh?” Harvey’s eyes open to see Brock’s arrogant sneer has only grown worse as he has contendly watch Harvey lavish his new corpus.

Harvey meets it with a scowl and Brock tilts his head, “Want to do one last question then, bro?” His smile grows tight as he tries not to laugh as the appellation of bro has become the paramount definition of this once genius. Harvey just nods his head, still understandably disoriented as he lies in a pool of his own sweat and pre that remains dripping directly onto the floor. Brock motions for him to ask whatever the presumably final question is but is met with a grunt and a wave of the hand. Brock grimaces slightly, “if you insist bud,” he grimaces slightly as he looks down at the man. Asshole he may have be, may still be even, surely there’s something Brock could do to fix even that. He leans to whisper the question in Harvey’s ear, “what color are my eyes.” 

Between grunts, Harvey strains to look at his roommate only to find them obviously closed. His body contorts with pain and pleasure as he feels the throes of defeat and one final lose begin to seize him. He groans out through clenched teeth as his jaw widens and his brows thicken as changes already begin to work upon his mind, “don’t… know…” Brock nods and sits next to his roommate laying Harvey’s head on his lap. At the point it would be a kindness for the man to forget his life before, and that is exactly what he is to do. 

Brock removes the memories and identity of the sour nerd that made life perpetually unpleasant not only for him, but anyone unlucky enough to grace his presence. His breathing speeds up as his body heat rises beyond imagination, sweat turning to steam in the cold dorm room as he shakes his head and clenches his fists. He writhes only briefly, each flex of his body a final protestation of Harvey as Brock erases even his name from his head. 

After a minute of this his body goes still before he opens his eyes blearily and groans. Still lying in Brock’s lap he stretches his arms, turning to smell his impossibly rank pits before turning it into a flex as he must do anytime he raises them. Brock watches this with trepidation, unsure of who exactly his roommate is to be now before suddenly a name surges into his mind, Bull. Perfect fodder for the jerk he once was and an apt name for the behemoth lying on his lap. Testing the waters Brock pats his chest to wake him up, “Morning Bull.”

He yawns and scratches at the same stubbled face he has always known and he sits up, “urgh got a massive headache bro, must have gone pretty hard to have a hangover this bad huhuh! Wanna go grab brekkie and hit up the gym?” Brock stifles a smirk and helps his roommate up to standing, slightly surprised to see him standing taller than himself before responding, “You got it big guy, how about you get some clothes on first though right?” Bull guffaws, looking down at his hairy sweat-drenched body as he throws an arm around his roommate, cock bobbing around in the open air, still chubbed up. “What would I do without you bro huhuh!” 

Brock looks to see all of Bull’s tops have changed to stringers and tanks. Where Harvey had nothing but pants Bull has piles of unwashed athletic shorts, one of which he promptly throws on, going commando. Seeing Brock watch him, Bull grabs at his crotch and juts at the door, “Come on bro! Faster we get a pump in faster we can get back here and have some fun dude.” 

With that Bull again throws his arm around Brock, once more smelling his b.o. as he almost deliberately spreads it on his roommate’s neck, like an animal marking its territory. The two then off to start their day, in Bull’s mind as they always have. Brock feels his crotch grow weightier as the amble down the hall, unsure if he’s made a horrible mistake in all this. Who is he to say what is too far in acts of cosmic retribution. Brock is certain at the end of the day he and Bull are at least to have quite a bit of fun.

[stsgluver]

summary. rich boy!gojo's instagram feed

wc. 400

tags. fluff

dynasty [rich boy!au]

lovesick satoru who’s entire instagram feed is you.

he's never been covert with his love in real life, so it's no surprise his online persona is no different.

prior to your relationship, his instagram had been very minimalist - mainly compromised of just highlights. there was only one proper post: a photo of him and geto in suits for an event that they both had drunk too much at to remember. his highlights were organised: one for the stray cats he found, one for the constellations he'd see late at night, and a third of the people he cared for (this one could only be seen by those on his close friends list).

then there is you.

satoru is the first one to publicly launch your relationship - it's a soft launch of you staring up at a waterfall he'd taken you to for your second date. your face isn't visible, and compared to satoru's infamous status, you were relatively unknown so only those who knew the two of you well could identify you properly. he posts that on his story with mitski's 'my love mine all mine' playing in the background and creates a new highlight for you (he titles it 'my girl').

he doesn't post often on his main account but, when he does, nine times out of ten, it's you or a photo you'd taken of him (his spam is daily pictures of your life together of course). for the first time in his life, satoru has found love through his own means and not through his parents so he adores to showing it off (much to his father's dismay - matching onesie pics with his girlfriend wasn't exactly screaming 'heir to the gojo fortune').

although satoru's instagram isn't public, his affluent position in society and popularity does mean that he has several thousand followers to his name (many of which being female). it makes the two of you giggle when one of these said girls tries to slip into his dms despite the fact his account is a literal shrine of his love for you.

in response, he'll add the girl to his close friends and post a picture (usually of the two of you kissing, sometimes just you) to his close friends. once the girl has seen it, he'll block her off of instagram and all other socials she may have contact with him on.

satoru is devoted to you and he wants the whole world to know it.

a/n. this was inspired by @bbyjackie (I LOVE THEIR ONE PIECE WRITINGS SM)

[blkkizzat]

ღ𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙨 & 𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝘾𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙨 ღ

11/14: Werewolf!Toji Part 2 up now!

Halloween is my fav holiday and Horror is my fav movie genre so how could I not participate in a SPOOKY KINKTOBER!

All inspired by my favorite horror villains!

Song Inspo: Thriller & Smooth Criminal General CW: Blood play might be heavy in a few of these. Dubcon or Noncon in most of these but the reader will enjoy/consent by the end. Death but only of minor/NPC no name characters(ie, your fuckass bf, bitchy chem professor, next door neighbor, mailman, etc) and manipulation. Schedule: There will be no order. But for the month of October I will only be focusing on these until I finish. Subject to change if I hit writers block or I may add more (but doubt it as classes start end of this month). Tag: will tag works #☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳

ღ𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙮ღ

FreddyKruger!Sukuna

Kink Tags: Teratophilia, Size Difference, Virgin, Chasity Synopsis: Teens in town have been dying in their sleep from horrible dreams. Hard up virgin Y/N won't take sleeping pills to stop dreaming because she only gets relief in her wet dreams. What will happen when Sukuna (true form) enters them? WC: ?

Sadako!Geto

Kink Tags: Voyerism, Squirting, Overstimulation Synopsis: Camgirl!Reader hasn't been able to make herself squirt yet and is teased by her chat. She buys a new toy and downloads a random porn an anon user sent her "guaranteed to make you squirt" but is it just a normal porn? Or is there something more sinister on it? WC: ?

Werewolf!Toji

[Part 1 ღ Part 2] - Finished! Kink Tags: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac  Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? WC: 10.4k

ღ𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙮 𝙖 𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝘾𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡ღ

Ghostface!Choso

[Part 1 ღ Part 2] - Finished! Kink Tags: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? WC: 15.4k

Hannibal!Nanami

Kink Tags: Olfactophilia, Body Worship, Menophilia Synopsis: You're immensely grateful for your kind, empathetic and open-minded (not to mention very handsome) psychiatrist Nanami who has gotten you through some very rough patches in your life. However when you show up at his home office for unannounced session and discover him preparing dinner, are you whats next on the menu? WC: ?

InvisibleMan!Gojo

Kink Tags: Mirror Sex, Frottage, Stalker Synopsis: Fed up with his antics and him ignoring you, you breakup with your tech genius boyfriend Gojo. It's been a month and you've started to move on with your life but odd occurrences have been happening around you and you have the feeling you are being watched 24/7. You need a vacay and your friend Shoko offers up her lake cabin. Will you be safe there? Or will whoever is watching you have you right where they want you? WC: ?

BONUS: Free for all section of general Halloween themes if I finish all the rest or need to do a quick drabble to cure writers block.

Why you can’t watch scary movies with JJK men - Drabble, 2k words

Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK Men - Fic 10k

JJK Men Slutty Halloween Costumes - Ask

If i have time I will do Cult/Ritual Sex/Gangbang on reader. With most if not all JJK men listed here

Not poppin' enough for an official taglist but if you are interested in any of these stories let me know and I will tag you. ETA - 11/21 still taking adds as I do plan to finish the rest, eventually.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

Glitter text created @ Pookatoo.com

[becomingmina]

MAD. w/ JEONGIN.

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: jeongin x female reader genre + warnings: fwb, angst, jeongin is annoyed at reader, smut mdni! wc: 2k mina's note: S/GF/N = Seungmin’s gf name. You get the drill 😛

mad master list here ; other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

Jeongin groans at the vibration from his phone. It was 1 in the morning and he had just fallen asleep a couple minutes ago.

“Hm?” He answered the call from Seungmin, only because it was at an abnormal hour and because he heard his hyung rushed out the door not to long ago.

"Hey Jeongin, I'm picking up my girlfriend and your little girlfriend is here too," Seungmin says over the phone.

"She's not my little girlfriend," Jeongin scoffed, arm laying across his eyes, trying his best to block out any light so he doesn’t lose his tiredness.

“Okay, not-your-little-girlfriend will be alone outside the club if I only get S/GF/N so—” Seungmin emphasised on the alone, feeling worried about you but seeking Jeongin’s confirmation first.

“So?” But Seungmin was only met with a grumpy Jeongin.

“So do you want me to get her too or?”

“Ugh god.”

“I can’t just leave her, they have all been drinking and—”

“Ugh, she can stay over,” Jeongin puffed, clearly annoyed.

“Okay we—”

“—But I'm going back to sleep so don't wake me when you guys get home," and with that he hung up the phone.

You entered Jeongin and Seungmin’s shared apartment, the place was always so welcoming and cozy but this time round you felt a little out of place. All day you’ve been messaging Jeongin telling him you miss him, his hugs, his touches, his kisses, only just to be left with a message that broke you a little.

Jeongin 🤍 Can you stop messaging me?

Jeongin 🤍 My phone is buzzing non stop it’s annoying

You guys weren’t dating, only a fling as the other boys would say but it was clear to everyone that you had feelings for this boy. Maybe more than he has for you. The text made you question your whole situation-relationship though — does he even like you anymore?

You were going to spend the day copped up in bed but after your roommate found out why you were so upset, she insisted you go out clubbing with her and the other girls.

“I would go but Jeongin hates me going,” you say fiddling with your blanket.

“So?” S/GF/N questioned as she moves your hair away from your face.

“He’ll get angry,” you were a little bit nervous on how he would react since he already is annoyed.

“Y/N I think it’s time you stop being the one what chases him. If he wants you to stop messaging him then you should not talk to him at all. Ignore him, go out, go drinking, go clubbing, make him mad. Be a little bit petty back,” she says with a smile.

You take a deep breath in as you considered everything she said. Maybe it was time you stop giving him so much attention. Maybe it was time you stop letting him get his way with you.

“Trust me Y/N, he’ll want your attention by the end of the night,” S/GF/N says as she gets up opening her hand out for you.

“Okay,” you took her hand.

You took your time getting dolled up, searching for an outfit. You wanted something what was still in your comfort zone but a little bit sexy. You settle for tight demin jeans and a long sleeve crop top with a wide v neck showing your cleavage area, making sure it was an outfit that will piss Jeongin off.

The first couple of shots you were as confident as when you agreed to go out. You wanted to piss Jeongin off. But towards the end of the night when the alcohol started hitting you, you can’t lie you missed him, you wanted to be with him. You start to slowly lose your security as you read over the many messages he left you asking where you were.

Seungmin brings you a pillow and blanket, with a glass of water. He hates to be a bad host and leave you in the living room but he respected his member’s wishes.

“You know your way around Y/N. Good night,” he says before returning back to his room to your friend.

You were in your clubbing outfit and it was uncomfortable for you to sleep in but you didn’t want to go into Jeongin’s room to dig through your pile of clothes afraid he was mad at you. You decided it was best if you just called a taxi, copping the couple hundred dollars to take you back home in the other part of the city at this hour of the night.

“You can sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep out here,” a voice stops you from taking any step further. You turn around and there Jeongin was standing in the hall way. Your heart skips a beat at his presence.

“No it’s okay, I think I’ll just go home,” you say quietly, standing across the room from him.

“Didn’t you want to stay?” He asked but it came out a little be aggressive as if it you begged to stay over.

“Yeah, I wanted to see you but it seems like you don’t want me here. I’ll leave,” you choked.

He can tell you were hurt, your voice breaking a little bit as you reply back to him.

“Stay.”

“It’s okay—”

“—I want you to stay Y/N,” he says firmly. “If you leave right now, I’m assuming you’re leaving me forever.” Jeongin makes his way to the couch, taking his seat as he waits for you to come to him. You couldn’t fight him, you wanted to stay, you wanted to be around him tonight.

“I think we need to talk Y/N.” You make your way over and he pulls you next to him.

“You wanna tell me where you were? Why you didn’t reply me back?” He asks softly, glancing down at you.

“I just felt like I was annoying you so I—,” you start to speak.

“—So you went clubbing instead?” He didn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. “I thought we agreed for you not to?” He puffed out, trying to stay calm. “Or does that not mean anything to you anymore?” He pierces his eyes into yours, waiting for your answer.

“Jeongin.. I miss you and all I got from you was a can you stop messaging me,” you voiced, looking away from his glance.

“So you broke your promise and went out instead?” His tone was harsh now, he is showing his madness.

It flipped a switch in you, snapping you back to the mindset you had when you agreed to go out. He had no right to be mad at you, he was the one who was mean to you first. You only ignored him because he wanted you to stop messaging him and now he’s the one that’s mad? What is his issue?

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“Pfffftt..” he chuckle, amused at your reaction.

“What does me drinking and clubbing have to do with you anyways? It’s not like we are dating?” You retorted, tired of playing the cat in his little chase game.

“Yeah true,” he rolls his eyes at you now. “We aren’t even dating. But then go ahead.. Go ahead and tell me why you are missing me so much then? Spamming my phone with “I miss you”messages?” He scoffed, lifting his hand to air quote you.

You get up to walk out on him but he pulls you down, so you’re on him straddling him. You tried your hardest to get up again but he was too strong for you, holding you still by your waist.

“Silly girl..” Jeongin scoffs again shaking his head. “We’ve been here before.. You can’t go out because you’re mine,” he smirks.

“Hate when you wearing pretty clothes like this out,” his hands travelled from our waist down to your hips where he rubs circles with his thumb. His touch made your heart flutter.

“Hate it when you get drunk and get friendly with every fucking guy you make eye contact with,” he says above a whisper, lips close to yours. His possessive side was showing and it was turning you on so much.

“Jeongin..” You whimper, arms coming to hug around his shoulders now and you move up a little bit, sitting atop his hardening length. You take in a sharp breath at the contact.

“Hmm? What is it?” He was satisfied with your reaction.

“Want you…” you were as needy as when you sent him those texts in the morning. You craved him.

“You want me? I think you forgot to say something,” he teased, his fingers doesn’t stop caressing your body.

“I’m sorry,” you replied. “I’m sorry I went out clubbing. I only did it so you can pay attention to me,” you admit falling vulnerable for him again.

He lets out a little laugh before apologising as well. “I’m sorry too Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I replied to you like that. I’m sorry I let my anger out on,” he moves you closer to him, hands now groping your buttock.

“Why were you angry?“ you asked him with your big eyes, ever so innocently making him fall vulnerable to you too.

“They stuffed up my measurements, so I don’t know if I’ll have an outfit for the performance next week now,” he replies. You got your answer on why he was annoyed now. Clothes, fashion, and styling means a lot to him, so you understand how he feels when it doesn’t go right for him.

“I’m sorry it didn’t go well for you—” you tried to cheer him up.

“—No it’s not your fault. Never your fault, pretty girl,” he was desperate to let you know you shouldn’t take the blame for his behaviour.

“I’m sorry I got angry at you for clubbing too. I just get so possessive when you go out. You know I get like that only because I like you so much right?” He admits, cupping your face. You both look at each other with lust before attaching your lips.

“I know,” you pull away with a smile. You both slowly start to forgot everything that happened now.

“You want to show me how much you missed me, pretty girl?” He looks down at your body and tugs at the waist band of your jeans, signaling for you to remove them.

You get up to remove your jeans leaving you in your panties.

“This is how much you missed me?” He eyes your underwear before looking into your eyes with a smirk.

You shake your head no and continue to pull down your panties off as-well, kicking them off. He licks his lips at the sight of your bare pussy. If anything, he missed you like how you missed him too.

“Missed you more.. like this,” you say and straddled him again. With your jeans and panties off you can feel how hard he was for you now and it was riling you up so much.

“Missed this.. so much,” you moaned as his big hands come to helps you roll your hips on him.

“Yeah then keep going baby. You always make it feel so nice,” Jeongin encourages you, trying his best not to roll his eyes back at the pleasure.

“I’m close- I’m gonna cum,” you bite down on your bottom lip, feeling the damp spot forming on his grey sweat pants. You were a moaning mess now trying to save your orgasm.

“Not yet, keep going.. let me cum with you,” he mumbles. A couple more grinds and he feels himself ready to bust with you.

“You okay pretty girl? I’m close now,” Jeongin grips your hips harder now.

A loud moan falls from your lips as you both let go. You let your juice flood on his pants as Jeongin cums inside his boxers.

“Good girl.. You feel okay now?” He says rubbing your back as you both catch your breath.

“I’m okay now,” you say.

“Good.. Only want the best for my little girlfriend,” your eyes lights up at his comment and he chuckles at your cuteness.

“What? You are my little girlfriend right?” He presses a kiss to your cheek.

[neonovember]

OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVA‼️💳💥💳💥 IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY

could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin 🤯🤯🤭😏

love you and your writing 😚

thanks for keeping us fed 😌

carmen berzatto x reader

okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.

Inked Devotion

this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!

word count: 1.7k

things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you

Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors. 

When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmen’s body you hadn’t anticipated to actually go through with it. 

And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.

You can’t though, you don’t hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in. 

“Hey, you still with me darlin’' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.

Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it weren’t for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?” 

“It’ll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bed” Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.

It wasn’t the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month. 

It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.

“Many people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.”

You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monica’s words

“You still want this right?’ Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod

“It’s all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-” 

“No, no I want this”  You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, “Besides we already designed the stencil and everything” Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.

“Damn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yet” Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.

“Alright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some things” 

You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves. 

It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.

The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monica’s tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.

“Alright Doll, I’m just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?” Monica says.

All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carm’s dishes.

Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once. 

You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.

“Hey, baby, hey what is it” Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.

“Awe doll, you don’t like the design? I’ll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at all” Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern

“No no, I’m fine” You squeezed Carmen “It’s so, it's beautiful Monica” You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.

“Thank you” You whispered to her as she shushed you.

“At least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less now” She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.

“Ah shit” You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.

Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw. 

Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,

“See, ain't too bad” Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.

It took some time, you won’t lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design. 

You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.

“God, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and poke” Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.

“It..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with this” You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.

“I’m glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckin’ gorgeous” Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.

“Hey, I'll report you to HR” Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.

“It’s my business, I am HR” Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.

Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her. 

Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.

“My gorgeous ink stained sweetheart” Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.

“Thank you too, you know” You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.

“Wouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up again” You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“Would have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quicker” Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.

“Hey, it’s true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and I’d still have the memory of you under my skin memorised” Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace. 

You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.

And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.

He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.

tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale

[another-lost-mc]

i am kinda in the mood for some angst~_~

if you are comfortable can i request the side characters reacting to their s/o (mc) was in a middle of a panic attack in front of them and fainted suddenly ?

thank you!

When MC Faints/Has a Panic Attack Scenarios | DIAVOLO, BARBATOS, SIMEON and SOLOMON 3.3k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Angst Content Warnings: Mentions of physical injury/illness and unspecified trauma, protective and possessive thoughts/behaviour, use of pet names.

DIAVOLO

Diavolo doesn’t get as many opportunities as he would like to explore the human world. He mentions wanting to visit there more often, and of course, he wants you to go with him. When you jokingly offer to join him as his tour guide (and his friend, and his lover), he has to balance his reckless sense of adventure with the responsibilities of being a prince.

With some gentle persuasion from both of you, Barbatos agrees that it's acceptable for his young master to indulge in a well-earned vacation. Occasionally.

(There may be extra paperwork waiting for Diavolo on his desk when he returns, but he reminds himself that it’s worth it to spend more time with you.)

Diavolo’s enthusiasm knows no bounds. You show him brochures for the amusement park you’re taking him to - the largest in your home country - and he’s already made a list of all the rides he wants to go on and the special attractions he wants to see.

You’ve been there before, and you brace yourself for a long, busy day.

You arrive together when the park gates open, and it’s an endless circuit of ride after ride after even more rides. It’s a sunny, humid summer day and by noon you’re dripping sweat and trying to reapply sunscreen with shaky hands. The concession stands make a fortune from the overpriced bottled water Diavolo buys for you, but it seems like your throat is parched beyond relief.

Diavolo’s current interest is the park's inverted upside-down roller coaster. You've been on this ride in the past and enjoyed it, but for some reason you feel a sense of dread while you wait for your turn in line. The scorching heat blazing on the back of your neck and shoulders does you no favours.

When it's your turn at the front of the line, Diavolo helps you into your seat before he sits next to you. He dangles his legs and kicks his feet happily when the floor lowers away.

As your seats slowly stutter up the steel track towards the first big hill, your eyes start to blur and you try to blink the sensation away. The ride has you twisting and rolling through the air at incredible speeds, but it feels like you’re still falling in an infinite drop.

When the ride comes to an abrupt stop, Diavolo laughs and offers you his hand when you stumble out of your seat. You follow him as best you can, but the world seems to tilt. He smiles when he feels you lean against him. He’s about to ask if you want to get in line and ride the roller coaster again, but you don’t answer - he catches you when you start to fall.

The amusement dies on his lips and he scoops you into his arms. He carries you through the crowd until he ducks behind a concession stall out of view of potential onlookers. He looks around discreetly before using teleportation magic to take you back to the Devildom.

As soon as you materialize in the Demon Lord’s castle, he shouts for Barbatos and kneels with you on the ground so he can examine you. He doesn't understand what's wrong. Your eyes are open but they’re unfocused. You’re talking, sort of - it’s more like incoherent mumbling under your breath, but he thinks you’re trying to say his name. He brushes his lips across your forehead and cheeks and it suddenly occurs to him that you feel so warm.

He thinks about all the times you mentioned that you disliked the summer heat in your home country, that you would get dizzy in the sweltering humidity. You didn’t like being in the sun for too long and he teased you about how often you were reapplying your "sun block."

Diavolo feels like a failure for not being more considerate of your needs. He watches helplessly as a royal healer kneels down and begins casting restorative magic on your weakened form. Diavolo promises himself he’s not going to let something like this happen to you again - not if he can help it.

(He won’t know until later that you saw a humidex warning pop up on your phone the morning of your trip, but you didn't want to cancel for his sake.)

After Barbatos consults Solomon and verifies that you simply need to rest and to stay cool and hydrated, Diavolo carries you to his room. He lays you on the bed you share and curls against your side protectively. He murmurs apologizes over and over again into your shoulder while he squeezes your hand in his. 

BARBATOS

Barbatos worries about you when his responsibilities to Diavolo take him far away from you. 

Sometimes you accompany him on trips that allow you to explore parts of the realm beyond the bustling metropolis you're used to. He likes seeing your giddy excitement when he can show you something new, something you might not have seen if it wasn’t for him.

Other times, he’s forced to leave you behind. Some of the destinations are simply too unwelcoming for a human with your sensitive disposition. This particular excursion is related to royal matters and lacks the fun sightseeing opportunities he wants to share with you.

After nearly a week, he’s restless with the anticipation of seeing you again. He’s not sure whether to be irritated that he’s been gone from you for so long, or excited that soon he’ll be by your side once more.

Diavolo delights in teasing his friend and insists it’s a bit of both.

Barbatos won't argue with his young master when he begrudgingly agrees.

You’ve had plenty of work to fill your spare time since Barbatos’s departure. It’s exam season once again at RAD and you’re being held to even higher standards than before because of your status as a sorcerer. When you’re not studying for exams, you’ve been helping Lucifer with student council affairs, or accompanying Solomon on human world excursions related to the Sorcerer’s Society.

Barbatos feels the first inklings of concern when you send him messages in the middle of the night, long past your usual bedtime.

“I’m catching up on these study materials Satan gave me then I’ll go to bed, promise!”

You wake up each morning with a greeting from him; Barbatos wishes you a pleasant day and he reminds you to eat something. He doesn’t like your bad habit of skipping breakfast. Since he’s been gone, he suspects that you’ve started skipping or delaying your other meals, too.

“I grabbed a snack in the cafeteria before class, I had a meeting at lunch time.”

“There’s a witches dispute Solomon would like help resolving, I’ll eat dinner when I get back.”

Barbatos is tempted to send Lucifer and Solomon thinly-veiled threats that their impositions on your time shouldn’t affect your well-being to this degree.

When he asks you one evening if they're putting too much pressure on you, you insist that things will go back to normal once exams are finished and he returns with Diavolo. You promise that you're eating and sleeping enough and he doesn't have to worry.

He decides not to involve himself directly unless you ask him to, and of course you don't.

When Lucifer calls him unexpectedly on the second-last night of his trip, he realizes that he should’ve gotten involved after all.

Barbatos is standing quietly at his young master's side while Diavolo mingles with guests at a dinner party. When his D.D.D. starts buzzing, Barbatos is surprised when he sees Lucifer's name flash across the screen. He excuses himself and heads to an empty balcony so he can take the call privately. 

Lucifer skips all pleasantries and small talk when he answers. “Before I say anything else, I would like to emphasize that they’re fine—“

Barbatos’s breath hitches and the heart you insist he has, the one that beats for only for you, cracks in his chest. “Tell me what’s happened.”

Lucifer explains that you had some sort of fainting episode - he mentions stress and lack of sleep and something Solomon called low blood sugar, but Barbatos can barely concentrate on what he says over the dull roar in his ears.

Barbatos senses his young master behind him, and he hopes his expression is perfectly neutral when they exchange glances. Lucifer must’ve sent Diavolo a message about your condition as well because he looks at Barbatos worriedly; his young master is fond of you, too.

Before Barbatos can ask more questions about how you’re doing now, and what they’re doing to take care of you, and how Lucifer and Solomon would like to be punished when he returns, Diavolo motions for him to pass over his phone.

“Barbatos will be arriving shortly to evaluate the situation on my behalf,” his young master informs Lucifer before wishing him a goodnight and hanging up the call.

“But my Lord, the meeting with the dignitaries—“

Diavolo shakes his head and smiles at his oldest friend. “The meeting isn’t until tomorrow afternoon. It gives you plenty of time to visit and make sure they’re alright. Stay with them tonight and return in the morning if you’re satisfied their condition has improved.”

Barbatos knows it’s a blatant disregard of his duties to the young Prince to leave him so suddenly because of his personal matters.

He also knows it’s the height of unprofessionalism to leave his master’s side so abruptly.

Barbatos knows he’s a hypocrite, but he barely waits a moment longer before he teleports himself to the House of Lamentation to be with you.

SIMEON

Simeon loves sharing perfect moments of domestic bliss with you.

It doesn’t matter when or where - Purgatory Hall, the Angel’s Halo café, the human world apartment he secretly keeps just for the two of you - he wants nothing more than to nourish your body and soul with simple, cozy gestures that prove his love for you.

His responsibilities to the Celestial Realm, the petty orders from Michael that have him travelling all over the three realms, have kept him busy lately. He misses you desperately and he’s frustrated when he wants to see you but he can’t.

You’ve tried to teach him how to use this D.D.D. for times like this, so you could send each other pictures or make video calls when the longing becomes too unbearable.

(His own technological skills are still a work in progress but he cherishes whatever you send him.)

But one day he asks you how you are, and you mention very casually that you don’t feel well, and he has to remind himself not to panic.

Lucifer would have contacted him right away if it were something serious - right?

Simeon calls Lucifer afterwards to check on your condition (knowing about your habit of downplaying your problems not to worry him), but Lucifer assures him that everything is under control.

That's not good enough. Not for you. Simeon calls in some favours with his fellow angels and manages to secure a couple days’ off from his responsibilities so he can come see you.

Simeon couldn’t be more thrilled when he arrives at the House of Lamentation the next morning. He gets to care for you personally while Lucifer and his brothers are at RAD all day. Any time he spends with you is special, but alone time together is the most precious to him - it's a luxury he greedily indulges in, when he has the chance.

When he arrived, he brewed you a cup of herbal tea before you laid down together for some much-needed snuggling. You insisted he didn't need to go to all this trouble for you, but he winked and insisted that he wanted to spoil you.

Your stomach growls and it seems like a good time to think about making something to eat. When you rise from your bed on shaky legs, Simeon wraps an arm around your waist to support you. He thinks you look a little pale, but you tell him you’re fine. He heads to the kitchen to start making food for both of you while you slip into your ensuite bathroom to shower before lunch is ready.

Simeon is chopping vegetables when he hears the first dull thud. He sets down his knife and frowns, walking closer to the shared wall that separates your room and the kitchen. After a moment, there’s another thud that’s even louder. And then another, the loudest noise yet.

He rushes out of the kitchen and heads to your bedroom. He can hear the quiet hiss of the water running through the door that leads to your private bathroom, but you don’t answer when he calls your name. He tests the doorknob - you left it unlocked, thankfully - and he steps inside. He waves the steam away from his face and he calls your name again. You don’t say anything, but your pained groan is just as worrisome as silence.

When Simeon pulls back the shower curtain, you’re sitting at the bottom of the tub and slumped against the side. The bottles of toiletries you dropped - or knocked over - are scattered around you. He fumbles with the faucet to turn off the water spraying at your back, and he tilts your head up so he can look at you properly. Your eyes are glazed over and unfocused, but your hand - your poor, trembling hand - reaches up and tugs weakly at his sleeve.

“M’dizzy,” you whisper. Your voice wavers and the words slur together.

He rests his forehead against yours. “I’m here, my love,” he murmurs quietly to comfort you - and himself.

Simeon reaches for one of your towels hanging on the wall behind him, and he wraps it around your shoulders. He maneuvers you as gently as he can so he can lift you out of the tub and cradle you against his chest. He tries to dry you off while he rocks you in his hold, humming under his breath to soothe you. He pauses every so often so he can kiss your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.

You’re too tired to be embarrassed by the way he carries you back to your bed, helping you put on warm pajamas and tucking you into the blankets like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

(You are.)

After you rest, Simeon tells you that it was a low grade fever that probably caused your dizziness. The feeling gradually fades and as evening approaches, you don’t feel lightheaded anymore. He’s reluctant to leave your side, and he cares for all of your needs personally: providing you with cool water and warm herbal teas; making healing potions to help with your headache and sore throat; and cooking soft but nourishing foods to keep you full.

When Lucifer and his brothers return from RAD and insist on seeing you, Simeon sends them away from your room with hushed suggestions to leave you alone and be quiet. His words are polite, but the dangerous glint in his eye promises pain for those that might disturb you.

No one can take care of you better than he can.

SOLOMON

Shopping with Solomon in the human world is always a fun adventure. You’re at a mall in your hometown (your home-away-from-the-Devildom) and giggling at Solomon’s baffled expression. He examines a vending machine full of large, colourful cake slices and other desserts. You shake your head when he points to the rainbow-coloured cake slice he offers to buy for you. He takes a picture of the display and sends it to Luke before he reaches for your hand.

Your goal today is to buy a birthday present for Asmodeus. You have a small list of makeup and body care to buy for him, all made with scents or ingredients that are unique to the human world. You probably could’ve used Akuzon to import the items you want to buy - but where’s the fun in that?

Solomon offers to carry your shopping bags for you, and you link your arms together while you stroll lazily through the mall. Every time he spots something in a store window he thinks you'd like - a shirt that compliments your eyes or complexion, or a lovely piece of jewelry - he has the urge to spoil you. He glances at you with half-lidded eyes and tries his best to convince you that yes, you would like your lover to buy that for you as a gift. Your usual response is to roll your eyes at him while he grins.

(He's adding all those items to a mental list of gifts to buy you later.)

He stops outside a large boutique when he spots something in the window he wants to pick up for Asmo. You nod your head towards the bubble tea shop next door and tell him you’re going to grab a drink while he picks up his shopping. He promises to come find you when he’s done and he steps inside while you head towards the line-up nearby.

It can’t be more than a minute or two when Solomon feels you next to him while he’s browsing a rack of colourful blouses, looking for one in Asmo’s size.

“Did you miss me that much?” Solomon glances at you with a teasing smirk, but he frowns when he sees the expression on your face. 

You’re not looking at him. Your wide, frightened eyes are staring where you came from, the entranceway that leads back to the mall. Your hand on his shirt clenches into a fist, and you’re trembling.

Solomon drops the bags on his arms and reaches for you. When he pulls you against him, he can feel your shallow, panicky breaths when you pant into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you imploringly. He cups your cheeks and forces you to look at him. Tears are welling in your eyes and when you blink, they start to trickle down your face. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head and he doesn’t know what to do to comfort you. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze like you’re afraid he’s going to disappear. He can barely make out your gasping whisper: “I need to get out of here.”

He rubs his hand up and down your back soothingly. He walks both of you back towards the change rooms where there’s more privacy, and when he’s sure no one is looking, he disappears both of you back to his home in the human world.

Even in the comfort of his front hallway, you're still shivering and your breathing is quick, panicky and uneven. He encourages you to match his deep breaths, and he reminds you that you’re safe and that he’s here for you. The erratic beat of your heart eventually calms down, and you look up from where you were hiding your face in his chest.

“There’s my darling love,” he whispers when he cups your cheek. Both of you have red, tear-stained eyes now. He brushes his lips against your forehead.

“I’m sorry I ruined our shopping trip,” you whisper hoarsely.

But Solomon shakes his head and hugs you again. “You didn’t ruin anything.” He waits a moment before he asks quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You tense in his arms and shake your head ‘no.’

Solomon doesn’t mention what happened at the mall, and he spends the rest of the night holding you close and taking care of you. When he offers to go back the next day to repurchase the items you left behind, he knows better than to ask if you want to go with him. The very mention of that place causes fear to creep into your eyes, and it nearly breaks his heart.

It's several days later, after you both return to the Devildom, and he notices that you're still incredibly anxious about something. You glance around nervously in public, and sometimes you stare off into space with a slightly haunted look in your eyes.

Solomon’s not sure who or what you saw that day, but for the first time since he met you, he feels utterly powerless.

[dhoranbolt]

Devilish

a/n: Happy (late) Valentine's! I suck at time management this was supposed to be out like a week ago lmao. Brought to you by that one Sukuna art, Fleabag, the songs Church/Devilish by Chase Atlantic, and really just my priest kink in general, yeah.

Disclaimer - I am not super religious forgive me if none of this makes sense lmao idk

Friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

Bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic ily ma'am as always you keep me sane 🥹💙

Pairing: priest!Sukuna x fem!reader

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, priest kink, degradation, reader is called good girl, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk

Word count: 5.7k

She’s seen him around the coffee shop she frequents every once in a while. ‘Gorgeous’ might be an understatement – maybe ‘sculpted by the gods’ would be a more accurate description.

He’s tall, muscular, from what she can tell under his loose-fitting tee and jeans. She swears she’s not gawking, but with the tattoos that line his face and arms, so intricate yet simple, his fluffy pink hair, could anyone really blame her for staring a second too long?

He’s so breathtaking, she might just be showing up to the coffee shop more often than she used to just in the hopes of glimpsing him a little longer. Maybe in a different t-shirt, maybe in a suit– okay stop.

She’s decided to take a seat while she waits for her order to be called out, not having paid particular attention to who from the list of regulars she sees strewn about the shop.

“Order for Father Kuna!” She huffs a small laugh out as the barista calls the name with such a straight face, and then pink hair is blocking the view. Her breath catches in her throat the moment he turns around to walk back to his table with a grin, and their eyes meet. Her heart jumps into her throat, but the moment is only that- a moment, and then he’s moving out of her view, back to the table of other men laughing as he rejoins their group.

She chances a look that way to see a man with long black hair, and another with short white hair. She looks away before any of them can feel her eyes on them. It was enough that he was so attractive, but all three of them?

It’s not the first time she’s seen him smile, but it is the first time he’s looked at her, smile widening as they lock eyes.

–

Granted, it’s only Tuesday, this whole week has been one inconvenience after another, and her visit to the coffee shop is not an exception. In her rush to find caffeine, she’d neglected to bring her wallet with her. So, imagine her surprise when she moves to pull it from her purse and pay, only to notice it missing.

She’s huffing as she frantically looks through the bag again. The cashier in front of her looks bored, like this is probably not the first time this exact situation has taken place today, and if the world could just open up and swallow her whole right now, that would be great–

“I can pay, if you can’t find your wallet.” A voice calls from behind her, and if her cheeks weren’t already red from embarrassment at her current situation, they would be now.

Turning to look at the owner of the voice, she’s met with an abdomen, and as she follows it up, black tattoos come into view, and so does pink hair, and are his eyes red–

“Oh, please no, it’s fine I’ll just–” He laughs, and she feels like every inconvenience in her life could just melt away at the sound.

“I insist. Besides, what kind of good Samaritan would I be if I left a damsel without the caffeine she looks like she might break down without?” Her face scrunches up at his comment, but before she can question it, he’s stepping past her to order his own drink and pay.

“I was joking, by the way. About the caffeine comment. I’m sorry if it came across rude, you just looked a little you could have used a laugh. Long week?” She laughs and nods as they wait off to the side for their drinks.

“The longest. And thank you for paying, really you didn’t have to, but I appreciate it, nonetheless.” He grins again and her heart might actually jump out of her chest at just how painfully gorgeous this man is.

“It’s no issue, I like helping people where I can.”

“Well, I’m going to pay you back after this, just so you know.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“There’s no need, we’ll say I just did it out of the kindness of my heart and leave it at that.”

“I don’t like feeling like I owe people.”

“Then don’t feel that way.” She lets out an exasperated huff as she looks up at him, but he’s grinning down at her again.

“Okay fine, fine. How about this? How about you can pay me back, by meeting me… Here.” He says as he scribbles an address out for her on a napkin. He hands it over, and she takes it with a raised brow, looking at the unfamiliar street name and number.

“You want me to bring your money to an address I’ve never been to before?” And there’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at her.

“I don’t even know you.”

“Sure you do,” he says with a nod, continuing on, “I’m Sukuna, the devilishly handsome coffee shop patron who doubles as your knight in shining armor for today.” She laughs as he grins.

“Okay, well, what makes you think you know me?” And he pretends to think for a minute.

“Well lets see, I’ve seen you around this little shop long enough to know that you’re a woman of your word.”

“How, this is the first time we’ve ever exchanged words.” She scoffs another laugh.

“Oh so you have noticed me around then?” And anything she says next would give away the fact she did notice him around, so her jaw opens and closes silently as she debates on what to say next.

“I-” And she’s saved by the barista interrupting her derailed train of thought.

“Order for Ryomen!” He moves to the pickup bar, taking the two drinks in hand and walking back to her.

“Meet me there tonight, seven fifteen.” And she’s still trying to register what’s even really happening as he hands her the cup.

“What is this like a date?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, and she bites her tongue as he chuckles.

“Yeah, something like that. Just come, then consider your drink paid for.” And how could she say no to him?

“Okay sure,” she laughs nervously, “I’ll be there, Sukuna.” And she savors the way his name sounds, rolling off her tongue.

“I’m looking forward to it, enjoy your drink.” He says with a smirk, before leaving her in the coffee shop. Sitting down at a nearby table, she pulls out her phone to look up the address she’d just agreed to meet a semi-total stranger at, and when it loads on her map she’s left even more confused than before – it’s the address to a church.

–

She’s sitting in the parking lot of the church, staring at the doors in contemplation. She’s not very religious, but the curiosity of finding out just what he could possibly be asking her here for, is why she’s making her way to said doors once the first few groups of people pass. She laughs to herself at the mental image of the church setting her ablaze the second she steps in.

Looking around at everyone sitting down, she’s searching for pink hair, but doesn’t see it. For church on a Tuesday night, the place is almost packed. She barely finds a seat with breathing room from the sea of faces around her.

‘It is only eight past seven though, maybe I’m just early.’ She thinks, trying to calm her rising nerves. What is she even doing here? It was so easy for a handsome stranger to coax her into following him to some random church, surely this was not the stellar survival instinct of someone who doesn’t get serial murdered.

The minutes tick by, and she’s about to just get up and leave, mortification starting to settle at the fact she believed he would even show up, when a familiar voice gathers all attention to the front of the room, and she freezes.

What exactly is she supposed to make of the sight before her? Black tattoos, pink hair, muscular body, covered up in black clothing, complete with the white tab collar. If the building wasn’t going to set her on fire before, it surely would now.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of you that are joining us for the first time tonight, I’m Father Ryomen.”

He’s looking out into the crowd as he speaks, eyes scanning the rows of people for her. When his eyes land on her, her breath catches in her throat, shivers running through her entire body.

‘There is no way in hell that I am horny in church right now.’ But there is a way, and his lip is currently curling up at the corner as he looks at her.

So, she sits for the next hour and a half, listening to the sound of his voice as he goes on through his sermon, not retaining anything except for how smooth his voice sounds, booming off the walls. He gives his closing words, and everyone around her begins to get up. Some filter out, most stay back to chat with him, and she decides to wait until there is no longer a line leading up to him.

The last big group of people finish up, and she’s finally had ample time to process the image before her as she makes her way toward him against the leaving crowd.

“You made it.” He says with a warm smile, and her stomach twists.

“I won’t lie, I thought you were joking still when I realized it was a church. So, a priest, huh?” He laughs with a nod.

“Forgive me, father, if I didn’t take you for the type.” Sukuna smirks down at her, and for a second, she swears there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. It���s gone just as soon though, and she chalks it up to the lighting.

“Most people don’t, with the tattoos and all. I don’t mind, though. I use it as a way to show it is not our place to cast judgment upon others. But services are over, please, just call me Sukuna.”

“How very religious of you, Sukuna.” She hums.

“And what about you, then?”

“Honestly? I’ve never been very religious.” She shrugs, ‘but I can see why the people at this church would be’.

“And yet I talked you into coming? Surely that’s got to mean something.” He jokes as he rests a hand on her arm for a second.

“It does, if I’m not mistaken, my drink is now paid for in full.”

“Hah.” He fake laughs, and the sound makes her stomach flutter as she looks around.

“I should probably get going though, I think we’re the last two here.” She notes, seeing the fact everyone else has filtered out of the church, before looking back up at him.

“Why don’t you stay with me and lock up, I want to show you something.” Conscious of the fact she still doesn’t really know him, she raises an eyebrow at him, searching his face for any ill-intent.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.” And she doesn’t sense anything bad about him, his words seem genuine. There’s something about him though, she can’t quite place. It doesn’t set off alarm bells, but it piqued her interest, making her stomach knot in anticipation.

So, she follows him. Chatting about nothing in particular as he tidies around, and they lock up the church for the night.

“You know, I would have never in my wildest dreams, guessed priest.” He threw her a smile.

“So what did you dream about me then?” Her cheeks burn, and she busies herself with the now very interesting chip in her nail polish as she flounders for a response. But he hooks his finger under her chin, grabbing her attention.

“Hey, I’m kidding.” He says, leaning down to catch her eye, and her heart stops. She’s not sure what she’s doing as she stares back into scarlet eyes, but the air around them changes. Suddenly, it’s thick with desire, so thick she could almost choke on it. And she can feel the gap between them slowly closing- he licks his lips, eyes glancing down at her own for just a second.

“C’mon, we’re not done yet.” He says softly, before pulling away. Her head is swimming, was she just about to kiss the hot coffee shop priest inside the church, no less? But she doesn’t dwell, he’s already moving to the other end of the hall, and she’s quick to catch up.

“It’s usually one of the other two fathers and myself,” he explains as he moves through the church, checking doors and tidying up as he goes. “unfortunately they’re both out this week.”

“And that leaves poor Father Ryomen to take care of the church all by himself?” She teases, and he scoffs.

“They’re unreliable as it is. Though the current company isn’t an undesirable exchange.” He winks at her, and not for the first time tonight, she wonders why he’s called her here.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“To repay your drink from earlier.” She rolls her eyes with a smile.

“That is so not why you dragged a stranger to your church.”

“Why do you think I dragged you here then, hmm?” He whispers, eyes slipping down to her lips again before searching her face.

“And I already told you, we aren’t strangers.” As he says it, it really does feel true. She doesn’t feel out of place next to him, doesn’t feel like she shouldn’t be here, even if this is the first time she’s stepped into a church in years. She takes his shift in conversation and runs with it, not answering his previous question. The thought he’d brought her here for anything other than to listen to him preach was starting to take hold, and she’d rather not read the room wrong and tell him what she was really thinking.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to church, I thought maybe I’d be struck down the moment I made it inside.” She laughs, stepping past the door he holds open for her into a new room.

“Have you ever done confession before?” He asks, moving to refill the holy water.

“Can’t say that I have, but I get the gist of it.”

“Enlighten me.” He’s glancing at her with a stern look on his face as he caps the bottle.

“You sit on one side, us sinners sit on the other.” and at that he cracks a smile, chuckling.

“Keep going, you’re on the right track.”

“And, they tell them to you and you forgive them on god's behalf.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

“Want to give it a go?” She looks at him with an arched brow, and this time she laughs.

“You did this on purpose didn’t you, paid for my drink to get me into a booth. I’m almost positive that falls under coercion, y’know.”

“Oh c’mon, just try it. Don’t you trust me?” And there it is again, that mischievous glint in his eyes that makes heat pool in her lower stomach. She bites her lip.

“No I trust you just fine Sukuna, I just-” But he’s placing a hand at the small of her back, leading her to the booth at the front of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to wash you from years of sin.” He whispers as he leans down to her ear, and a shiver runs through her.

“You’re joking-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And he’s reaching over her to slide the curtain aside, motioning for her to sit.

“I don’t think-”

“Then don’t. Be a good girl, have a seat.” Her stomach flips at his words, and there’s that smirk again. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. What could humoring him hurt? She’s moving, brushing past his reach to sit on the hard wood. He gives her a nod, closing the curtain.

“I’ll be right on the other side, then I’ll talk you through it.” 'I bet you would' and the words are flashing in her mind before she can stop them. Maybe five hours ago, before she knew he’d sworn himself to a life of celibacy and Jesus, his hands all over her had been attainable. But now? This just felt like torture- and yet here she was. Being a good girl for him, and sitting in his booth.

She chews her lip, shifting her thighs together.

“Nervous?” He asks, hearing the noise. She stops moving, shame washing over herself. Not only was she trying to relieve some of the tension between her legs in a church- Sukuna could hear it.

“Y-yeah, something like that.” She laughs, putting her hands to her face.

“You have nothing to worry about. Sinning is innately human, that’s why you come to me.” And did she really come to him? Certainly not for this, but again, here she was. When he realized she wasn’t going to speak up again, he continued.

“Let’s start off with this, just say what you can read off the little plaque there.”

“Sukuna-”

“Aht aht,’ he cuts her off “I’m Father, in the booth, little one.” Heat pools between her legs at his tone. It’s playful but firm, and she can’t help the way she’s biting her lip to not make a sound. She follows his instructions, and- this feels ridiculous, what are they doing exactly? Why is she still doing it?

“What are they?”

“I don’t,” she wracks her brain for an answer. Being here in the first place, premarital sex, lusting for a priest, lusting for said priest while in the church.. The list was long, and she wasn’t sure saying it aloud would make the dull ache she was currently feeling any better.

“Don’t be shy now.” And he says now like he knew something she didn’t, about what was really going on here.

“I’ve watched Twilight.” It’s the first thing to come to her mind that doesn’t elude to the fact she’s going home to stuff a dildo into her aching walls while she thinks about him tonight. The answer catches him off guard, and he chuckles. Turning to the wicker wall dividing them. She can’t physically see him looking at her, but she can feel his eyes on her through the divider.

“Twilight, really?” Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks right back at him.

“Look I read it was like, devil worship according to the church in some article, okay?” He shakes his head with a smile.

“The woman who I met in the coffee shop just doesn’t strike me as the type to watch vampire movies, is all.” He teases.

“Oh like you’ve never watched a single fantasy movie.” He’s quiet now, and she blinks.

“… Not a single one, ever? Isn’t lying a sin, Father?” She challenges.

“We should stick to the topic at hand, sinner.” Her jaw drops and she scoffs in disbelief.

“Okay, well, the next one is that I have tattoos.” She can just imagine the look on his face right now.

“That’s a common one.”

“I’m still surprised they let you, with the tattoos.” She notes, smoothing out her dress over her thighs.

“I can be very convincing, when I need to be.”

“What is that like code for something?”

“My charm helps, even the little old ladies got over them when I flashed a nice smile.”

“I’m sure you’re very popular with all the grandmas.” She laughed.

“Not as popular as Father Gojo, but he’s always been the type to flirt with most things that have legs, regardless of age.” And he has to keep from rolling his eyes or talking any further down on the white haired man.

“I thought flirting was like, forbidden in your religion.”

“Not necessarily forbidden. frown upon, sure, side-eyed possibly.” She could live with side-eyed, hell she could live with frowned upon too. She wasn’t the one that took an oath of never sticking her dick in someone else. But she was the one that decided she wanted a priest of all people, to stick their dick in her. That wasn’t much better for her in the long run though.

“I think that about covers all my transgressions up to this point. Hey, does it still work if I confess to something I eventually will do? I think that’s a much better way to run this whole thing.” Sukuna chuckles, she’s definitely warmed up to being here with him, he can tell in the way she speaks so freely.

“That covers everything huh? Sure you’re not missing anything?”

“Like what?”

“How about, ’I’ve been eyeing up a priest for the past month now’.”

“I- what?” Her voice catches in her throat, jaw dropping and face burning. This visit had just taken a left turn, there was no way he’d just said that.

“Go on, say it. Unless of course, I’m wrong? Just remember, lying is a sin.” She can hear the smirk in his voice, but he doesn’t stop.

“Maybe, ‘I’m so turned on I can’t even sit still’.” Her breath catches in her throat- how could he have known that.

“Or how about, ‘I’ve even made a priest question where his loyalties lie’.” Her body was hot, a fire growing in the pit of her stomach. She takes a shallow breath, mouth feeling dry. She was going to have to answer him at some point, situational whiplash or not. She might as well try to level the playing field while she was at it,

“I’ll own up to mine, but not yours.” He chuckles, and it’s deep, ringing in her ears.

“Perhaps we should switch sides of the booth then.” Listening to a hot priest tell her just how into him she was, wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined tonight going. But when she really thought about it, what other way could tonight have gone?

She heard him shifting on his side, before the curtain was being drawn back. And her handsome, well put together priest, was no longer looking quite so put together anymore.

His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, shoulders moving in sync with his breathing as he gripped the side of the booth.

“Lust is a sin too- but sometimes I just can’t help myself.” She swallowed hard at his words, frozen in place as she stared up at him, red eyes burning into her.

“I can always get on my knees, ask god's forgiveness afterwards.”

“Sukuna…” And she’s watching him slowly sink to the floor before her. Even as she looks down at him, she doesn’t get the feeling that she’s the one in charge of this situation. He moves forward, caging her against the back of the booth, his face inches away.

He looks so different from what she normally sees at the coffee shop; lips twitching up in a smirk as he reaches over to caress her cheek. He certainly doesn’t look anything like a priest, let alone a respectable one. He looks devilish, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to get her here. And she can’t say it’s not exactly where she wants to be.

He leans closer to pull her into a kiss. The first one is slow, tentative, even though they’re both so clearly worked up. Pulling back to look her in the eyes he searches them, before they both crash their lips together.

“Mmm- wait- wait!” She can barely get the words out against his mouth, pressing her hands against his chest. He pulls back, looking at her in concern that he’d over stepped.

“What about- what if someone sees us?” The concern on her face that someone would catch them doing this, and not the fact that they’re still going to, is so cute of her.

“We locked the doors, didn’t we?” He grins and lets out a breathless laugh as the realization crosses her face. The son of a bitch planned this whole thing. He dips back in to claim her lips again, hands traveling down her sides to her ass, sliding her to the edge of the seat.

“From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you’d be the reason.” He’s pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, anywhere he can reach.

“What?” She breaths, not really hearing him as her eyelids flutter. She’s too wrapped up in the whole situation, in how soft but firm his palm feels against her face as she leans into his touch. How wrong but right it feels for him to touch her, even just like this.

“Knew I’d stumble,” His thumb traces her bottom lip, tugging it down, and she opens her mouth instinctively. He’s using the grip on her jaw to turn her face to the side, planting kisses below her ear as she shutters, whining at the feeling.

“It’s like you knew, walking into a church wearing a dress. Walking into my church, wearing that dress. Did you wear it because you caught me staring a little longer when you would?” He’s rough, pressing his lips along her neck, across her chest, sucking, biting his way further down her body.

Her head is spinning. This was wrong, wasn’t it? But the fact it was wrong only turned her on more. She’d never wanted, needed, someone to fuck her so badly before. His hands are everywhere, kneading her chest, pinching at her hardening nipples.

“I asked you a question.” Sukuna’s still pinching at her bud, and she can barely concentrate enough to whimper a ‘yes’.

“Yes what?”

“Yes… Yes… I wore it just for you.” He sucks his teeth with a grin.

"Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, I want to see them.” He pulls away from her and slips further down, running his hands from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up as he does. She’s instinctively parting her legs, letting him ghost his lips up the inside of her thigh. Sukuna presses his thumb against the wet spot on her panties, looking up to see her squirming closer as he does.

“Patients is a virtue, sweetheart.” He warns as he drags the lacy fabric down, discarding it off to the side. She huffs with a pout,

He presses his thumb to her clit, rubbing slow circles as she twitches below him.

He rubs a finger through her slick folds, slowly pushing into her. It's easy, she's so wet, whining for him so needily, and he's already working a second one in.

"Eyes on me, you're going to look at me while I make you cry." She could finish right here, he was so calm yet demanding. Scissoring his fingers inside of her he moved his thumb, dropping his mouth over her clit as he sucked.

Her thighs are fighting to close against him as he slides his fingers into her, tongue moving in slow circles. It's cramped in the booth, but Sukuna still finds the space to use his arms to hold her legs open. She's biting her lip so hard as she watches him, body tense. Her grip on his hair is tight, and she doesn't know if she's trying to pull him closer or push him away as the pleasure builds in her abdomen.

Sukuna doesn't stop as he feels every part of her clench, her body rigid and she takes everything he's giving her. He's sucking as he moves his tongue just a little faster, fingers sliding in and out of her slick cunt as he curls them inside of her. Her back arches, legs shaking as her walls clamp down on his fingers, pulsing as her orgasm washes over her. She's gripping his pink hair, trying as hard as she can to keep her eyes on him as he works her through it.

He's watching her with determination, listening to her cry his name, as his cock strained in his pants. With a few more shallow pumps of his fingers he pulls out and she whines.

"Greed is a sin too, sweetheart." He says as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. She breathes in softly as she watches, the low grown leaving his mouth making her stomach flip.

"Taste divine, I'd keep you here for hours if I could." He moans, pressing his mouth to her glistening cunt as he lapped her clean. She cried out at the over stimulation, hands flying to his head, trying to push him away. He simply takes both her wrists in his hand, holding them at bay.

"Try to stop me again, and it'll be a long night for you in this booth." He warns, pulling back to look at her. A rush floods her body at the thought, and he's leaning up to kiss her again. She's eager to return it, lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape.

Sukuna pulls her up on shaky legs, turning them so he can sit down instead, pulling her to straddle him. He presses her down over his clothed bulge, grinding up into her as he pulls away.

"You gonna be a good girl and have a seat?" She whines, grinding right back down onto him with a nod as she runs her hands down his chest, fumbling with his belt. He rubs his hands up and down her sides as she works, whimpers of frustration falling from her lips as she works on his pants.

"Patients is still a virtue." He hums, kissing the side of her neck. She can feel how thick he is even over his pants, but she's not ready for just how thick he actually is when she works him out of his clothes. Her jaw drops with a gasp as she runs her thumb over his slit, already dripping with precum. Sukuna hisses, hand flying down to grip her own. 

"I said sit." He says, gripping her hips to lift her over him.

"You're so-"

"I'll fit, don't worry." He soothes as he moves her, rubbing his head between her folds a few times before slowly pulling her down. Her hands fly to his shoulders, gripping tight as he slowly stretches her out, making room for himself as he breaks her open over him.

"Sukuna, Sukuna!" She whimpers.

"You're doing so well, look at you." He praises, brushing his thumb over her cheek. She doesn't think she can take anymore, and yet her walls are practically sucking him further in, begging for more. God no one's ever felt like this before, he filled every space inside of her.

And then the back of her thighs are flush against his own, as he slowly rocks into her.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He coos, and she shakes her head, mind already hazy from the pleasure.

"No." She whimpers, and rolls her hips with a cry.

"Fuck you're so much." She sobs, body shaking.

"Yeah? But you're going to take it." And he's pulling out, only to slam back up into her. She screams, nails digging into his arms as he holds her. He sets a steady pace, and after the first few thrusts she starts to move too, bouncing herself over him, pushing him further into her tight heat everytime their hips meet.

Sukuna pulls the top of her dress down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. All she can do is moan and grind harder down into him. Looking down between them she watches as he disappears into her, and it should be terrifying, just how much of him there is- yet she's accommodating every thick inch. And then she sees it when he pulls away from her chest- the bulge in her lower abdomen. She takes a shaken breath, and presses down on it.

“Oh my god fuck!” she whines, throwing her head back as her legs shake.

“When I’m this deep in you, the only God you should be crying for is me.” Sukuna growls, fingers digging into her sides to hold her in place as he fucked up into her. She clenched around him at his words and he grinned.

“Oh she liked that, did she?”

“Sukuna-! Fuck I’m gonna cum!” She cried, nails digging into his arms. He drank in the way she looked, jaw dropped in a silent moan, lip quivering. He wasn’t going to last much longer either, with the way her walls fluttered around him, sucking him deeper with every thrust.

“Where should I-”

“Fuck- inside, I don’t care just please-” She was shaking her head, rolling her hips into him as she babbled. Sukuna gripped her chin, forcing her attention on him.

“Say it again, like you mean it. Like you want it.”

“Please Sukuna, finish inside me. Wanna feel you inside me!” Her walls clamped down hard around him as she cried. He lifted a hand to wrap it behind her head, pulling her forehead against his own.

“There it is, take it. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He growled, watching as she came undone before him; jaw dropped in a silent moan as she pulsed around him. Sukuna fucked her through her orgasm, sending him right over the edge into his own. She whined at the feeling of him painting her insides in hot spurts, grinding further into him as they both pant.

It was quiet, aside from their breathing as they came down from the high, lustful haze being left behind. She cleared her throat, realizing they’d have to clean up the mess that was going to drip out of her.

“Well…” She started, beginning to pull back when Sukuna stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The question takes her aback as she stutters for an answer.

“I just- I thought- the mess…?” He grins lazily up at her, swiping a thumb over her bottom lip.

“Did you really think I brought you here just for one fuck?”

“Technically you brought me here over coffee.” She giggled, leaning into his palm.

“Leave your wallet at home more often then.” He demands, and she swallows hard, gasping as he bucks up into her again.

Tags: @saiki-enthusiast @alice-smutthoughts @idktbhloley @rezitio @matchat3a @mo0nforme @bleach-your-panties @fateisnotafactor @lov3ly-bunny @antishadow2021 @xo-evangeline @ackachii @tiredravenette @carpioassists @yoongislatinagff @unoriginalidea @i-likebread @squishybabei @emyyy007 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kokushibosgirl @wishandluck @kimchi-zaks @kyriekurokami @not-brionnne @andic137 @tang3r1n @mammon-s @yuujispinkhair

[hannieoftheyear]

kim mingyu x fem reader

this is part 2 of my sexting au I posted last week! you can check out part 1 here

pwp, smut with fluff at the end, MDNI!

warnings: switch mingyu, fingering, cum eating, protected penetration, he has a big dick, size kink if you squint.

6k hehe

note: thank you so much for the support on the first part♡ I hope you like this and I'm sorry if there are any mistakes

Kim Mingyu: guys I told Seokminnie to come at 9😊 [15:36 pm]

Kim Mingyu: come to my place at 8 so we can arrange everything🙏

Kim Mingyu: and don’t forget to bring the stuff on the list😁

The new text from the group chat made exclusively for tonight’s surprise party lights up your screen, taking your attention away from the tv show you were watching.

You have the urge to ask why he decided the time on the same day, but you don’t. You have a feeling that things are still a little awkward, and you never talked much anyways so it would be weird.

These few days, even if you tried not to, the only thing occupying your mind was your little chat with Mingyu.

Can sexting change your view of a person? That sounds so stupid. You were never mean to him, on purpose at least, and you would always think twice before going somewhere if he was going too. But now, you find yourself a little excited at the idea of seeing him.

You have about four hours to get ready and half an hour to get to Mingyu’s place. There’s plenty of time, so you finish the episode of New Girl you were re-watching and begin to get ready.

You absolutely do not think about seeing Mingyu for the first time since your… conversation. Not during your shower, where you shave your whole body. Not while picking a cute outfit you don’t usually wear that flatters your body and shows off your boobs. And absolutely not while doing your make up, you just happen to choose a red lipstick that has been sitting collecting dust since you bought it. There’s nothing wrong with trying different things sometimes!

Looking in the mirror, you realize that maybe you went a little overboard, not enough so that your friends would think it’s on purpose, but it is definitely noticeable.

Whatever. You’ll welcome whatever attention you might get. There’s no time to change anyway, you have to leave now or you’ll be late, so you grab your purse and go out.

You were tasked to bring the cake, so you drop by the cake shop a few blocks from your home and take a taxi afterward. It was a simple two tiered pink cake that said “Happy Birthday," but looking at it, already seated on the cab, you can’t help feeling like you’re forgetting something.

Checking the list over and over again doesn’t help, it only says “cake" and your name beside it. You’re thinking about what could possibly be so obviously necessary that no one thought to write it down. And then you remember, CANDLES! Painfully, obviously and pretty needed for a birthday cake.

It’s too late to go back now because you’re already 2 minutes away.

It’s fine.

It’s completely fine.

You’re sure someone else might have thought about it and will bring some. Mingyu has to have candles around just in case the power goes out. Maybe in the box there’s a candle the cake shop puts just in case.

The taxi leaves you at 8 pm sharp at Mingyu’s building. You try to calm down during the elevator ride, and it’s not until you’re at the door, knocking, that you remember at whose house you’re at. And realize that it’s just a little bit too quiet inside.

Mingyu opens the door, knowing it’s you on the other side. You’re always the first one to arrive.

You know you should be more put together, but you’re left without words at the sight of him. His hair is pushed back, a little wet still. He was probably on the shower while you were on the way. His outfit is simple, black jeans and a white t-shirt, but it somehow looks amazing on him. You wonder how does someone make a plain white t-shirt look so good. It’s almost unfair to everyone else.

Too lost in thought, you don’t realize you have the same effect on him. He’s left breathless by the sight of you. He thinks you have never looked this beautiful.

A door opens at the end of the hallway, and the sound takes you both out of your trance. He’s the first one to speak.

“Hey sorry come on in.” Mingyu says with an embarrassed tone you almost don’t catch. He moves to the side to let you through and speaks up again. “You’re first like always.”

“Yeah they can’t be punctual at all." You’re standing awkwardly looking at the cake in your hands while he closes the door.

“Should I put this in the fridge?" Your eyes point to the cake Mingyu didn’t register before. “Sure let me -" He tries taking it from your hands, but you back away.

“I can do it.” It comes out drier than you want to, so you look him in the eyes and show him a little smile. Even if your “friendship” didn’t change drastically in a matter of days, you don’t want to still have a rocky relationship. That seems to make him relax. “There should be enough room.” You hear him say as you’re walking towards the kitchen.

You know his apartment like the palm of your hand by now. It seems like he’s the only one willing to have many people over at once, so the hangouts are always here.

He follows behind you and stands in the kitchen while you try to figure out the best way to store it without getting it damaged.

“Oh I should tell you I forgot the candles, I’m sorry I don’t know why I didn’t think about it but I remembered on the way here and it was too late, but I thought maybe you had some here but if not we can just ask the guys I’m sure some of them aren’t even on the way yet and-" You turn around after you place the cake on the fridge and you blurt out the apology, only to find Mingyu standing right behind you.

He's so close you can smell his cologne. The one he always uses that you secretly love and wish you could steal, but he doesn’t have to know that. His body so close to yours does not affect you. In any way.

“I bought them don’t worry.” You sigh, relieved that you didn’t ruin anything with your stupid mistake.

“Oh thank God" You start and look up to look at him in the eyes, “Thank you really, I was panicking on the elevator I thought I ruined the cake because-"

“You should be a rapper." Mingyu suddenly interrupts you.

“What?” You look at him, very confused by his statement, and he just laughs.

“You just said 50 words in like two seconds.” He adds in between laughs.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You punch him lightly on one arm, “I was actually worried!” You really try to sound mad, but his laugh is awfully contagious and brings you to laugh with him.

“I don’t think you spoke that many words to me in years." He suddenly says, still laughing, but your smile dies slowly, because you realize he’s right.

“Yeah well…” You’re looking at him directly in the eyes. His smile is still plastered on his face, a little faded but there nevertheless.

Your eyes move to the side, to not make eye contact with him as you say “Things change.”

The atmosphere changes as fast as a heartbeat. You’re suddenly very aware of your body so close to his. Mingyu’s gaze wander to your lips a second too long before it goes back to your eyes. Slowly, he begins closing in the space between your bodies. You step back but find yourself caged in between him and the counter.

His warmth embraces you when he places an arm on your side to cage you in more. He has to crouch to look you right in the eyes. “How?” You barely register his question, his closeness making you dizzy. “What?”

“What changed?” For sure he’s trying to take a reaction out of you, and you hate that he’s succeeding. But you can have your fun too.

“You know… when you make a guy cum in his pants your relationship changes.”

He doesn’t seem affected by your response, quite the opposite actually, he might be enjoying it judging by the smirk forming on his mouth.

“You know damn well I did not cum in my pants”

“Didn’t you? Huh… Guess I wasn’t that impressed because I would remember otherwise.” Impressed you were. And remember you do. But you like annoying him.

He sighs, acting shocked as he puts his right hand on his chest. “How could you?” You don’t resist it and start laughing at his silliness.

But his arms are back to caging you in a millisecond. “I’ll have to make you remember then.”

You can’t resist it when your eyes drop from his eyes to his lips, suddenly calling to you like he’s got you under a spell. He seems to notice because his smirk makes a reappearance.

So slow you barely even notice. His face comes closer by the second. It's so slow he’s for sure doing it on purpose.

“And how would you do that, may I ask?” Now it’s your turn to smirk as your eyes go up back to his eyes, defying him.

His face is so close now that you can feel his breath on you. Your lips are only separated from his by bare millimeters. You’re about to tilt your chin up to connect them when someone knocks on the front door.

Mingyu drops his head as he sighs and separates from you a few inches. Your hands find their way to his chest and push him back a little to draw his attention.

“You should probably get that.” His head goes back up at your words and gives you a disappointed look.

His gaze goes down to your lips. “I don’t want to.” You smile at his reaction, you don’t really want it either but more people are going to start showing up so you need to get going. The person outside knocks again and you push him one more time, a little harder this time so he gives you space to leave his arm prison.

“Go! I’ll start putting up decorations.”

He gives up and let’s his arms go from the counter, but you don’t move. You watch his form as he turns around and walks to the door.

You were always amazed at how tall he was, his broad shoulders and strong back that somehow ended in a tiny waist. Somehow what he was wearing today accentuated all of that.

The door opens, and you hear Mingyu welcoming whoever was outside.

The night goes as smoothly as it could have. When Seokmin arrives, everyone shouts happy birthday, and he looks genuinely surprised. But then you all find out he actually knew because Soonyoung accidentally told him yesterday. Wonderful evening.

After all the singing and shouting, someone you can’t see puts music and the drinks start rolling in. You had no idea there was that much alcohol at the party to make like 15 people drunk but you’re not complaining.

It's already 4am when you start feeling the effects of alcohol leave your body.

You’ve been sitting on the couch watching Wonwoo destroy everyone at Mario Kart. You don’t dare to try to play against him, so you just sat back to laugh.

Everyone eventually grows bored of the game. Some go back to their homes, but you and a few others stay to hang out.

Mingyu, on the other hand, started tidying up when people started leaving. He doesn’t mind people staying over, but he prefers cleaning now, so he doesn’t have to do it when he wakes up. He’s still listening to the conversation, though, throwing in a few comments here and there or laughing.

When he finally finishes it’s a little over 4:30 am. There’s no room on the couch and he doesn’t want to sit on the floor, so he stands against the wall facing the group.

You’re sprawled out on the couch, resting your legs on top of Vernon’s who’s sitting at the other end. The guys are debating about… something. You stopped understanding a while ago. You just laugh when someone says something funny.

It’s when Mingyu comments about something Wonwoo said that you notice he finished with whatever he was doing, standing there in his full glory. Your eyes can’t seem to move away from him, and you don’t resist it either. His hair is now messy, and he's sweating a little bit. He catches you staring and raises his eyebrows. You shrug in response.

The chatter becomes background noise as you two play a staring game. You don’t dare move your eyes off of him, and he doesn’t either. After a few minutes, you motion a “What?” With your mouth.

He grabs his phone without breaking eye contact, but ultimately does to unlock it and starts texting someone. You realize that someone is you when his gaze is back at you, and your phone vibrates in your back pocket.

No one is paying attention to you. The guys are still debating, maybe about something else now, so you grab your phone without getting noticed. The only person who notices is Vernon because you move your legs off of him, but he doesn’t even glance at you, just re positions himself.

Kim Mingyu: so how long are you staying? [4:33 am]

You look up at Mingyu with an incredulous look and he just motions for you to reply.

You: wow no emojis this time

Kim Mingyu: I’m being serious😔

When you look at him he’s actually making the same face as the emoji. Cute.

You: for how long am I welcomed? [4:34 am]

Kim Mingyu: you can stay however long you please

You: I was thinking I might leave when the guys leave

You: but they seem to have a lot of energy today

Kim Mingyu: I can tell them to leave [4:35 am]

You: you want me to leave that badly?

Kim Mingyu: I want you to stay.

Kim Mingyu: but I don’t want them to be here

You giggle at his response. That definitely draws attention to you because Seungkwan asks “Who’s got you giggling like that?”

“No one.” You rush to reply, and hope no one sees your eyes dart to Mingyu before adding “You don’t know him.”

The interest dies soon enough, but you know Seungkwan will ask you again later.

Your eyes find their way back to Mingyu’s to find him already looking at you, waiting for you to text him again. You raise your eyebrows before going back to your phone.

You: don’t be mean they’re your friends! [4:37 am]

Kim Mingyu: when I’m done with you you’ll thank me

You: done with me?🤔

Kim Mingyu: you’ll see…

Kim Mingyu: do you want to stay? [4:38 am]

You: only if you make me breakfast in the morning

You: I hear you’re a really good cook

He doesn’t reply, instead he starts subtly kicking everyone out, saying stuff like “hey guys it’s getting late" and “you’re all gonna be wrecked tomorrow".

Someone jokes “that’s him politely asking us to get the fuck out", and everyone laughs as they start picking up their stuff.

You also start grabbing your stuff and cleaning around you, although slower that everyone else.

It’s around 5 am when the last few start heading out the door. You get asked how you’re leaving. You lie and say you called an Uber, and you’ll just wait here for it.

You’re back on the couch as Mingyu closes the door after the last person leaves, awkwardly sitting while waiting for him.

Butterflies show up on your stomach when Mingyu appears on the hallway, walking straight to you with a smile on his face.

The atmosphere feels awkward as he sits beside you.  You want to say something, but your mind is blank. There’s really only one thing you can think about.

Mingyu opens his mouth to speak but you get up and sit on his lap, one leg on each side of his hips.

“So what’s with all that talk earlier?” Your hands position themselves on his shoulders almost like they’re meant to be there.

Mingyu’s shocked for a second before he focuses his eyes on your lips and licks his.

“C-Can we talk about what h-happened the other day first?” He mentally kicks himself for stuttering. But his words contradict his actions, his hands are around your waist keeping you in place, and his eyes don’t leave your lips, like he’s on a trance.

“What happened was…” You grab the side of his face and get close to his ear to whisper “You got horny because of me, and I helped you.” Slowly, you go back so you can see his blushed face. “Is that right?”

But blushing doesn’t prevent Mingyu from teasing you too. “Acting like you weren’t practically begging for me huh?” His hands slowly travel from your waist to your thighs.

“Says the one who actually begged to cum.” You try your luck and grind softly against his growing bulge and he squeezes your thighs, closing his eyes lightly.

“You liked it.”

“I did, yeah." Now your hands are on his very firm chest. Mingyu sighs as you grind on him again, a little harder this time. Your faces are so close you feel his breath fanning over you, and you can’t resist your eyes when they focus on his parted lips.

When he opens his eyes again there’s only one thing on his mind, the thing that has been plaguing him since you arrived so many hours ago.

“Can I kiss you?” Mingyu says softly, almost in a whisper.

“I thought you wanted to talk?” You grind on him, hard enough to feel his already hard bulge, and you feel how your panties get ruined by your arousal.

“You’re funny.”

“I get that a lot.” Mingyu’s hands go back to your waist to make you grind on him again, setting a pace that’s not fast but hard enough to create more friction between your cores.

Electricity flows between your bodies. You wrap your arms around Mingyu’s neck, your faces barely millimeters apart. His lips are still parted, just like yours, releasing little sighs that almost make your lips barely touch.

“Please.” He pleas in a whisper, and you swear a million butterflies explode in your stomach. You can’t resist it anymore. You can't resist him.

You connect your lips with his, and Mingyu reacts almost instinctively. He wraps his arms around your waist, almost as if to keep you from getting away. As if you ever could.

The feeling of his lips against yours is addictive. He’s kissing you like he wants to erase any trace of anyone who has ever kissed you, making your lips his, so needy and hungry for more.

He thrusts up, making you moan in his mouth, and takes the opportunity to meet his tongue with yours, deepening the kiss and making you more addicted to him. If that’s even possible.

Mingyu’s hands start roaming your body, traveling from your waist to your thighs, then up to your neck. Your skin burns everywhere he touches, and you want more. You want to feel him everywhere all at once.

Your hands play with the hem of his shirt. You lift it up just a little so you can touch his abs without fabric in the way. You feel him smile against your lips at your touch.

He breaks the kiss and you chase after his lips. When you open your eyes you find him smirking at you. His lips are swollen and he’s stained red all around because of your lipstick, you figure you look the same. “Eager are we?"

“Yes very in fact.” You grab the hem of his shirt again and push it up. “Take this off.”

He obliges, but not before laughing softly at your eagerness. You follow his moves and also remove your tiny top. You can’t move your eyes away from his bare chest, and your hands immediately touch him, but he stops you.

“This too.” His hands sneak behind your back to unclasp your bra.

As soon as the bra is off you push yourself against him and kiss him again. His hands are quickly on your tits, thumbs going in circles around your nipples.

“Ah! You’re making me crazy.” You manage to say almost in a moan.

The clothes in your lower bodies soon begin to annoy the both of you, the friction is no longer enough.

Reluctantly, you get up, now it’s his time to chase after your lips.

Mingyu understands immediately and also gets up. You remove your shorts while he gets rid of his jeans, and in no time, you're sitting on top of him again. Only your underwear in between you now.

You trace kisses down his neck, leaving marks so he has a reminder of you for a few days. His now fully hard dick presses against your clit just right. Your panties are so soaked they’re beginning to stain Mingyu’s boxers too.

He kisses you hard to quiet down both of your moans, as his hands sneaks down to your core and his fingers start stroking your pussy through your panties.

“You’re so wet already.”

“That’s because you’ve been teasing me for like 20 minutes.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” You roll your eyes playfully. “But if you don’t actually touch me in the next five seconds I’m going to lose my mind.”

He chuckles, and you think he’s about to kiss you again, but you’re starting to learn that Mingyu is a man full of surprises.

In a swift move, he turns your body around, your back now against his chest, and spreads your legs wide. One hand sneaks under your panties while the other plays with one of your boobs.

You quickly turn into a moaning mess as he starts circling around your clit and pinches your nipple. But it’s not enough. “Mingyuu.” It comes out more whiny than you’d like, but right now that’s the least of your worries.

“Tell me.” His finger slow down but also press harder. You squirm under him and he kisses your neck softly. “What do you want? Tell me.”

“I-I need your fingers.” Your words barely get out.

“But I am touching you” He feigns confusion. His fingers stroke from your hole to your clit, collecting your arousal and spreading it.

“Inside.” You grind on his fingers in hope of getting more friction, but he slips his hand away from you. You see his fingers glisten with arousal and feel a new wave gushing out of you. “Please.”

You don’t see, but rather feel Mingyu smile against your neck. “Whatever you want baby.”

His hand is back under your underwear in no time, playing with your hole and collecting your juices with his fingers. You grind against his hand as he slides two fingers in.

Not even your imagination could have prepared you. His thick fingers stretch you more than you ever could, and the slow but deep thrusts let you feel him in places your fingers could never reach. You can’t hold back the moans that comes out of you.

“Oh my God! Mingyu faster please!” You’re not ashamed to beg anymore.

His palm is creating friction on your clit while his other hand is still playing with your nipples, and he thrusts into you faster.

You pace your grinds to match his hand and you’re sure this is what heaven feels like. You feel the tightness in your stomach close to snapping.

“I’m so close!” You breathe out.

Mingyu slows down his thrusts and you’re about to complain when you feel him add a third finger. He’s stretching you deliciously, knuckles deep inside you. You can feel him everywhere.

“Cum on my fingers c’mon” He demands as he speeds up. His fingers reach the spongy spot inside you that makes you jelly and abuse it.

You’re cumming on his fingers faster than ever. Shaking on top of him as he thrusts his fingers in and out slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm.

When he finally pulls his fingers out of you, you’re still breathless. Mingyu surprises you again when he moves his slick covered fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

You remove your panties once and for all and turn around. You feel his still hard cock under you and he winces at the friction.

“That was really hot.” You state, and his whole face turns red.

“I’m not done with you.” In one swift movement, you have your back against the couch and your head on the armrest. “I really wanna eat you out.”

And who are you to stop such a determined man? You grab his face and kiss him hard, tasting your arousal in him. “Okay.”

He starts a trail of kisses on your thigh, slowly going down until he reaches your cunt, but skips it and starts kissing your other leg. You whine in response as you grab his head and put it back on your core. You feel his breath on your bare cunt and shiver.

He looks at you in the eyes and barely licks your lower lips. You sigh at the little contact. “Stop teasing.”

His hands open up your legs and he flattens his tongue on your lips, licking in up and down motions and kissing your clit.

When he experimentally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, you moan and instinctively close your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

With his head now trapped in between your thighs, his tongue licks you from your clit and to your hole, tasting and savoring your arousal like it’s his last meal.

He toys with your clit and your hands find themselves in his hair again, pushing him more against your cunt. He moans when you pull at his hair, sending vibrations straight to your core and you feel a wave of arousal gushing out of you and to his mouth.

His tongue teases your hole, stroking the tip in and out lightly. You push his head into you again and his nose bumps into your clit, taking a moan out of you.

“Feels so good" You grind against his tongue as it keeps teasing your hole and his nose stimulates your clit.

Your orgasm hits you hard and fast and you’re cumming on Mingyu’s mouth in no time. He keeps his mouth on you, licking every last drop of arousal that gushes out. You have to pull at his hair to make him stop.

When he lifts his head up from you, his chin is shiny with arousal and he’s smiling.

You waste no time and make him sit on the couch again, “Now it’s tour turn."

You kneel on the floor as you remove his boxers. Even after seeing him on video and feeling him under you, you were not prepared to see how big Mingyu actually was.

His cock springs out against his stomach, angry red and already leaking pre cum.

It barely fits in your hand, and he sighs at your touch. You give a few experimental pumps but he stops you.

“I don’t have much longer. Do you have a condom?”

“You wanna be inside me that bad?”

“Yes.” He responds quickly. You chuckle as you grab your purse. You find the one you put while getting ready and open it.

He squirms under your hands as you put it on him. As soon as the condom is on, he grabs you and gets you on top of him again. You both sigh as your cores touch.

You grind on him, covering his cock with your juices and you both moan as he traces your neck with bites and kisses.

“Looks who’s teasing now.”

“It’s fun seeing you frustrated.” You stop your movements and he looks at you frowning. You can’t resist his sudden cuteness and give him a peck as you resume grinding on him. His tip grazes your clit and you shiver.

“You’re making me crazy.” He breathes out and you can’t help to chuckle.

“Can you cum like this?”

“I want to cum inside you.” His whiny response takes you by surprise.

His hands grab you by the waist and lift you up. With one hand you grab his cock and position it under your hole.

You steady yourself putting your hands on the back of the couch and slowly start going down.

If you thought his fingers reached places no one ever has before, then you’re sure his dick is creating more space for you to feel him. You can feel every vein dragging inside of you.

You suppress your moans by kissing him and he sighs in your mouth when you bottom out.

You’re so full you’re having trouble breathing. He keeps you still, giving you time to adjust. Even the tiniest move makes him twitch inside of you.

“You’re so fucking big Mingyu.”

“I told you I would make it fit.” He wraps his arms around your waist and brings you to him to kiss you. You moan, feeling him grind inside you, and he stills.

You start grinding on him slowly. You’re sighing on each other’s mouths, savoring every drag of his dick inside of you, feeling him reach deeper with every thrust.

Your hands travel to his chest and start playing with his nipples. He thrusts up when you pinch one nipple lightly, hitting exactly where you need it and making you moan louder, so you do it again.

“Yes like that Mingyu.” That encourages to start thrusting up harder and matching your pace.

One of his hands creeps down to your cunt and start playing with your sensitive clit, still wet from his spit, and the other plays with one of your nipples.

You start clenching around him, eliciting a moan out him.

“You’re so tight around me baby.” He says almost in a moan. “I'm so close."

His thumb is still playing with your swollen clit, making you squirm and clench so hard it’s hard to keep grinding on him. You collapse on his chest and he embraces you as he fastens his moves.

He's thrusting so deep and hard, you're sure he's marking you as his. Ruining you for any other man,  spelling his name in your insides so you're forever his.

Your bodies are so close together that your clit is rubbing against his abs, a friction you've never experienced but it makes the tightness on your stomach come so close to snapping you can almost taste it.

A few hard thrusts later you’re coming undone on top of him. But his thrusts don’t stop, chasing his high while you’re clenching around him, making him go crazy. You’re staring to feel the overstimulation when you feel him twitch inside you, and his thrusts come to a stop.

You stay like that, your head on his shoulder and his arms around your waist while you regulate your breaths. Your torsos pushed together allow you to feel the beating of his heart.

Mingyu relaxes his arms from around you and you release yourself from his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck and look him in the eye.

“So what did you want to talk about?” He chuckles at your question.

“I’m still inside you and you want to talk?” His reply sends shivers down your spine and you unconsciously clench around him. He drops his head back in a sigh and his hands find their way to your hips.

“Are you staying over?” Mingyu looks at you with puppy dog eyes, and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t say no to him. You just nod as an answer and he smiles like you just gave him a million dollars.

He surges forward to kiss you and you both wince at the stimulation from the sudden movement. “I think we should get up.” You chuckle with his mouth still on yours.

He helps you get up and you instantly miss the fullness of having him inside.

While you grab your clothes from the floor, he disposes of the condom and goes to his bedroom. He comes back with one of his shirt to give to you. Your stomach give a little jump at the idea of sleeping with his t-shirt as he shows you where the bathroom is so you can clean up.

When you finish and go to Mingyu’s bedroom, he’s waiting for you already inside the covers, smile still plastered on his face. You sit on the bed and give him a peck, but he doesn’t let you go as he deepens the kiss and hugs you close to him.

“Mingyu the sun is about to come up we need to sleep.” You manage to say with his lips on yours and he smiles. You separate but neither of you make any moves to go to sleep. You lay facing each other, admiring each other’s features in silence, when he suddenly says.

“Can I confess something?” That definitely wakes you up.

“You’re not a murderer are you?” You joke and he shakes his head as he puts one string of your hair behind your ear.

“I know we didn’t really liked each other until a few days ago…" He says, now with a serious expression on his face, and you listen carefully. “and I’m not saying this just because you made me cum on the phone…” He continues very seriously but you can’t help to chuckle lightly. Mingyu removes his eyes from you a little embarrassed by what he’s about to say, “and I don’t know why you sent me that photo the other day and I might be embarrassing myself saying this but, I think I kinda like you and I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”

You stay in silence a few seconds, processing what Mingyu just said. He doesn’t dare to look at you.

“Can I confess something too?” Your question makes him look at you again, with those puppy eyes you’re learning you’re too soft for. “I sent that picture by accident the other day.” He looks worried, fearing that what you’re saying means you’re rejecting him, so you quickly continue, “but I don’t regret it.” You see a little smile appear on his lips. “I think we were very stupid not talking all these years, we could’ve save a lot of time if you just showed me your monster cock before!” You can’t help to joke to lighten the serious mood and he laughs with you.

You grab his face and give him a little peck. “I think I might like you too, but we need to see how it goes first.”

He smile grows impossibly wider at your words. “Let me take you on a date tomorrow.”

You chuckle at his eagerness, he’s too cute for his own good. “Ok let’s go out tomorrow.”

He hugs you and brings you closer to him again, taking his time sweetly kissing you while his hands sneak under his shirt to touch your skin.

In a swift motion Mingyu traps you under him again, your back on the mattress and he presses against you to let you feel his already growing bulge. “Oh my god you’re insatiable.” You say as you grind against him, earning a moan out of him. “Look who’s talking.”

note: thank you so much for the support on the first part♥︎ I'm sorry this ending is kind of abrupt

my asks are open if you want to talk

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Jaded - Charlie Weasley

A/N: so, I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is start another series… and yet… here we are xD also, I’m sorry, I know She Is Love won, but I think we have established by now that my mind kind of does whatever it wants and I have no control whatsoever xD it’s all chaos here… anyways, I hope you like it :) 

Request -  Anonymous asked: Hello, I hope you’re doing okay my lovely. I was wondering if you could possibly wite maybe a enemies/rivals to lovers with Charlie Weasley and the reader? (Lots of sarcastic banta back and forth maybe they both work on the dragon reserve and are entrusted with transporting a very dangerous dragon to a new reserve, but something happens on the journey and just them to are trapped (either with the dragon or not) and then an argument that leads to some form of confession? This is so long I’m so bloody sorry, and I hope your writers block subsides [full request here]

Warnings: Charlie’s a bit of an asshole [but not really] for now, I think that’s it but please let me know if I’m missing something, also reader is from the Nott family

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D     

Your name: submit What is this?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Jaded

Hey…j-j-jaded… you got your mama’s style, But you’re yesterday’s child to me. So jaded, you think that’s where it’s at, But is that where it’s supposed to be?You’re gettin’ it all over me… X-rated

Charlie fucking Weasley.

That stupid name had haunted you for more than ten years now. There were very few people you hated in your life but his name was definitely on that list.

After enduring seven years of him at Hogwarts, you thought you’d finally be free when he was being drafted to play Quidditch professionally and you would move to Romania to fulfill your dreams of studying dragons. But no, for some stupid twist of fate, he decided not to become a Quidditch player and all of the sudden there was another opening at the exact Romanian Dragon Sanctuary that you had applied to so, again, here he was. And it seemed that no matter what you did, you were never able to escape Charlie fucking—

“WEASLEY!” you yelled when you finally spotted him, not far from your hut.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess” you heard his voice as you approached him. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, brushing his hair away from his face, showing off his stupid tattoos on his stupid strong arms.

“I have asked you many times, to stop calling me that!” you glared at him. “I need to speak with you” you said, before you went back into your hut and he only raised his eyebrow before following you.

“Is this how you treat your guests, love?” he said, walking in and leaning on your desk as he started going through your stuff.

“I didn’t invite you” you smirked.

“You just did” he glared a little at you.

“Don’t be confused, Weasley, this is strictly business” you glared at him.

“Of course it is” he chuckled. “Are you working on the Sleeping Draught for the dragons? Weren’t we supposed to work on this together?”

“Yes, that is correct, Weasley. Excuse me for not wanting to wait 45 minutes to see you flirting with the group of girls casually visiting the reserve today” you told him.

“Oh, so you did notice that” he smiled. “Sorry, love, you must remember how it is” he said, brushing a hand through his curls and flashing his smile at you as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I had a complete section cheering for me back at school” he shrugged.

“Oh, yes. How could I forget?” you asked, sarcastically.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it” he pouted. “Why are you making so much of it?” he asked, grabbing one of the phials.

“Why did I just find out that you are coming with me to Hogwarts, Weasley?”

“I asked first, Nott” he smirked, winking at you.

“Could you please not mess up my things?” you said glaring at him, knowing he did it just to anger you. “I am making more because we are bringing four dragons, not three” you explained.

“What? That doesn’t make sense, why? Isn’t it just three champions?”

“Well, obviously something happened, and now there’s four” you explained. “Now tell me why Steven just informed me that you are coming. Evan was supposed to bring them with me” you insisted.

“Tah-dah!” he smiled. “Surprise, darling! Looks like something came up and you got an upgrade so I’m coming with you instead” he smiled.

“Feels like a downgrade” you muttered.

“Hey!” he said, placing his hand on his chest and looking at you pretending to be hurt. “How can you say that? This is going to be so much fun. You, me, back at Hogwarts, like the good old days” he smiled flirtily at you. “Remember?”

“I’m not sure what days you’re remembering, Weasley” you said pushing him away. “But good is not what I would use to describe them” you told him.

“Of course not” he rolled his eyes, grabbing another bottle on your desk and throwing it in the air before grabbing it again.

“Give me that!” you said, grabbing it from him.

“Okay, so, since we’re getting four-” he said, as he grabbed one of your notepads.

“Stop saying we. You’re not coming with me” you glared at him.

“Oh, I beg to differ, love, see here?” he said, pointing at the paper you had earlier. “That’s my name, right next to yours” he smiled. “It’s official” he added. “So, let’s see what you’re bringing” he said, looking through your notes. “Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green” he muttered. “Oh, I know, we should take the Hungarian Horntail we got last week” he smiled.

“What? Absolutely not!”

“Why not? That would be perfect” he said, grabbing a quill and adding it to the list.

“Weasley, that is one of the most dangerous dragon breeds and you want to take her to a school full of young students, do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?”

“Relax, it’s for the first task, I doubt it’ll be anything dangerous. Plus that’s why we’re going.

“No! We should take an Antipodean Opaleye” you said, trying to grab the notepad from him but he placed it out of your reach.

“Oh, come on, love. Live a little, I would have killed to see a Hungarian Horntail at that age” he smirked. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. We won’t let it” he insisted.

“You haven’t even spent time with her, Weasley, I have. I am telling you this isn’t a good idea!”

“What isn’t a good idea?” you both stopped when your boss, Steven stepped inside your hut.

“Well, we were just talking about how the fourth dragon should be the Hungarian Horntail” Charlie quickly said. “It was actually (Y/N)’s idea” he smiled.

“No, it wasn’t! I was saying that we should take the Antipodean Opaleye!”

“Come on, love, we are already taking a Common Welsh Green, we should bring something more exciting” Charlie insisted as he passed the notepad to Steven.

“I just don’t think that this-”

“I’m with Weasley” Steven said, before you could even finish. Of course, he was. Not because Steven was a jerk. He was actually a good boss. But this was the story of your life. Charlie would get away with anything he wanted. “I think the Hungarian Horntail would be an interesting choice. Plus, you’re going and if anyone can handle her, it’s you, (Y/N)” he smiled. “I’ll go make the arrangements while you finish the potion” he said, leaving your hut before you could argue.

“See? Lovely idea” Charlie smirked.

“Why did you do that? I’m telling you is not a good idea to bring her. She’s still settling in the idea of being around people-”

“You worry to much, love” he said, grabbing your phial and throwing it in the air again, but this time, he accidentally dropped it. “Uh-oh” he said, before smiling innocently at you as you took a deep breath. “That wasn’t… part of the Sleeping Draught potion, was it?”

“You mean the potion we’re giving to the, now four, dragons we have to transport that you were supposed to be helping me with 45 minutes ago?” you asked, upset.

“Uh-”

“Yes, Weasley, that was part of the potion” you told him.

*-*Flashback*-*

“Well, look who finally decided to show up” you said, annoyed, as Charlie entered the class and ran over to your desk. You couldn’t believe you were stuck with him as your Potions partner for the entire year.

“Sorry, princess. Practice ran late” he smiled, sitting next to you.

“Don’t call me princess. And I don’t understand how being in the Quidditch team gives you immunity so you can show up whenever you want to and work on half a potion” you said, as you added the next ingredient.

“Come on, love. Don’t hate on the team” he said smirking at you. “Everyone loves the team!”

“Oh, yeah, I have such a deep admiration for guys who fly around in sticks with other guys” you said with a sly smirk.

“I know you’re joking, but when you use that sexy voice, you know it turns me on a little” he mocked you.

“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”

“Then sit down” he smirked. 

“Shut up! And help me with this thing, or I’m taking your name off the Potion” you said, as he saw the potion you were making on your book.

“Ugh, give it, you’re doing it wrong!”

“Excuse me? I have brewed the Volubilis Potion many times before, Weasley. And I am already halfway through, without your help. I am not doing it wrong!” you snapped frustrated.

“Yes, you are!” Charlie said grabbing the jar of Syrup of Hellebore from your hand but you didn’t let it go.

“No! Give it!” you said pulling it towards you.

“Ugh! You stuck-up, know-it-all drag!”

“Take that back you pompous Quidditch nut!” you argued, neither of you noticing Professor Snape coming towards your table.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Nott-”

“Give it, Nott!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Fine!”

Charlie hadn’t been prepared for you to let it go and he ended up dropping the whole thing on the cauldron making it explode all over Professor Snape’s face. When you heard the small explosion, the entire class went dead silent and the two of you slowly turned to see your teacher’s face covered in soot.

“You two. Detention. Tonight. My office” Professor Snape said; as you both resisted with everything you had to not laugh at the change of his voice. “50 points off Gryffindor and 30 off Slytherin” he said before walking to his desk again.

“That’s not fair!” Charlie argued.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in in the middle of my class, Mr. Weasley” he added.

“Ugh! Thanks a lot” Charlie snapped at you.

“Me? You’re blaming me? You’re the one who dropped it!”

“Only because you wouldn’t let it go!”

“Enough!” you heard Professor Snape from the front of the class. “Both of you out of my classroom!” he said standing up.

“But I wasn’t-”

“NOW!”

“See what you did?” Charlie said once you were outside.

“Me? I had never been kicked out of a class or had detention for that matter! This is all your fault!”

“No, it’s not! You were making it wrong!” he insisted.

“UGH! Just because you’re the Captain of your bloody team, you think you’re the boss of everything! And everyone!” you snapped frustrated.

“It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be wrong!”

“You are so… so-”

“Charming?” he said smirking and raising his eyebrow at you.

“Vexing!” you snapped, as you walked down the hall but he followed you.

“Really? Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either!” he glared at you. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m (Y/N) Nott. I’m a patronizing know-it-all princess who thinks is better than anybody else!’” he said mocking your voice.

“Ugh! I don’t talk like that! You’re infuriating!”

“You know what? I hope you fail all your NEWT’s!”

“Yeah? I hope you go bald!”

“I hope you end up an old spinster!”

“I hope they cancel Quidditch!”

“Take that back!” Charlie snapped.

“Make me!” you said smirking at him.

“You know what? I hope that once we graduate here, I won’t ever have to see your conceded face again!” he said, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.

“My thoughts exactly, Weasley” you muttered to yourself before walking to the Library.

*-*End of Flashback*-*

“We can fix it, love. Don’t worry” he said, cleaning up the mess. “See? Just like old times” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun, princess!”

“Don’t call me that” you glared at him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. 

Yes, you had one very big problem. His name is Charlie fucking Weasley. And you have no fucking idea how you’re supposed to survive the next few weeks with him. 

To Be Continued

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: so… part 2?

[babygirl-riley]

Paradise

Simon keeps telling himself it is the last time but keeps coming back to you.

“…try not to get your hopes up, cause I probably won’t stay. I said I’m on my way.”

Warnings: smut, swearing, if you squint you will see some angst, fluff a bit, touch deprived Simon

*Simon POV*

simon x reader guide

simon x reader smut list

*************************************

God why did it have to feel so good? Why couldn’t he be able to restrain himself from coming back again? You haunt his thoughts, thinking about how you whimper for him. How you wrap around his cock like it was the only thing you could live for.

He never goes back. Never spends the night. Never saves numbers. Never willing and wanting attention. Yet here he is in between your legs, slowly bringing you to where he needs you to be. Your pussy drenched in your cum, stuffed with his large fingers. Two of them fit in there spreading your hole to prepare for his cock.

How your hands will grab his mask him imagining that it’s his hair instead. God how touch deprived he really is, maybe that was it. He never really had intimate moments like these, at least lately. For what he feels. Bloody hell he feels like a fucking fool.

God how you look at him while he is eating you out. Your eyes begging for more, wanting everything from him. Wanting him. For how long has this been going on? Long enough he would think too long. Your moans drive him to thumb your clit harder, tighter circles, as he does sloppy kiss on your neck.

“F-fuck Si.” You whispered, whimpering basically.

It had him craving you even more, he never told his real name. Government name. It was ALWAYS his code name. “Ghost” that was it for other women he slept with, you. “I need you.” He whispered into your ear easing his fingers as you released your second orgasm.

He saw your smirk forming on your face. You slid your fingers, lazily underneath his balaclava gripping his hair. It made him moan, almost damn near whimper. “Please.” He said his voice lower then it already was. Making it sound desperate.

Desperate. Something that Simon would never show to anyone else. You plagued his skin, burning it for more touch. Plaguing his thoughts. It is now coming into his thoughts during down time on missions. Your eyes. Your hair. Your lips. Your bloody laugh.

He shouldn’t think of someone that is so pure. So innocent. No blood on your hands. Simon is a monster, a grim reaper ready for someone’s reckoning. You weren’t like that, always giving a helping hand. Simon kept telling himself that he will darken your life, turning you into a monster. He can’t do that. Not to his angel. His light.

“Simon,” You whispered having him look into your eyes. “I need you too.”

He moaned as you gently pushed him down, he could have over powered you but fuck. Your touch making him feel on cloud nine, blocking his common senses. You placed your soaking pussy against his hardened clothed cock. “Let me take care of you.” You whispered to his ear nibbling at him before kissing down his neck and biting.

He couldn’t stop feeling the shudder and tingle sensation running down his spine. Everything he though of before gone. You made him feel like he was on retirement, on a paradise island. Just you and him. Your hands running down his scarred abdomen, as you kissed each deep scar, each burn mark.

That is what could be the reason he comes back. Making him feel like he wasn’t a scary monster, that you could be the angel purifying the dark one. “Fuck sweetheart,” he whispered watching as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. God how beautiful you looked, fucked out, glimmering in sweat, the precum and salvia mixed together. “You are just a beautiful minx.” His muscles started to twitch.

His grunting became more close together. Simon wanted needed to thrust up into your mouth. You made him feel so good, him being engulfed in the scent of both of your arousals. You flattened your tongue the vein that stuck out the most causing him to hold his breath. You ended with a long slow suck to his tip, playing with it with your tongue.

“Fuuuck,” he said his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “You make me fee—fuck.” He couldn’t even finish before he could feel his orgasm coming. He softly pushed you off before he was panting.

Simon laid back trying to gather his thoughts and breath. He felt you crawl yourself back up kissing sloppy kisses. He felt your hand being placed on his cheek, causing him to open his eyes. You both stared for a moment as his hands trailed up and down your body before gripping his cock. You bit your lower lip as he pressed against your entrance.

Simon wanted to just slam into putting himself into his paradise. What made him feel whole. Before he could do anything you pushed yourself down. Which surprised him, usually you waited, his grunted hard feeling your walls making room for his fat cock. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you panted slowly. Simon could see stars, his skin flaming. His cock nestling near your cervix.

Both of your sweat glistening off each other sticking to each other’s skin. “Simon,” He didn’t even realize that he was just staring. You smiled before running your thumb down his lips. “Kiss me.”

How could he say no to that? Usually if someone isn’t higher rank then him he wouldn’t listen. But to hell with rank with you, you could tell him to jump and he would respond with how high and how long. He leaned up grabbing your back and hugging you closer to him. You giggled as he crashed his lips to yours. It was sloppy teeth clattering. Just where he wanted you.

He lifted his hips and slamming into. You whimpered as he did it again, harder. You slid your fingers under his mask and grabbed his hair. God how his spine tingled and his cock twitched. He wanted more so needy of him wanting more from you.

He felt your pussy clenching so fucking hard. “Good girl, there ya go baby. That’s it,” You were clawing at his back as your hips met with his. He looked down where you joined the white ring appearing. It would make his eyes roll just knowing his seed was in you. That you are his and his only.

Simon was feeling he was close. He wanted to cum with you, both going into bliss. “Ah yes please please I-I wanna fuck!” You yelled bouncing on his cock harder. The noises would be horrific for some people from both of their juices, mixing together.

He placed his forehead against yours. Feeling sweat against one another. “Yes princess let go, I’m here with ya.” He grunted in between.

Simon felt his orgasm coming right through as your pussy clenched him hard. He started to to spasm, rolling his head back his breath hitching. His orgasm hit hard, harder than he has ever been before. His legs twitching and tensing, feeling the cum going right into you. Painting her walls white. Claiming you. Like no other man could.

You slowed down as you slowly laid on his chest. Both of you were heaving, he never had a woman ride him before, he always like to feel in control. Simon’s breathing steadied as he rubbed his hands up and down your back. He sat there feeling like he landed in his paradise. Simon haven’t felt like this in years, being peaceful, feeling safe. His brother would make fun of him, stating that he was becoming a teddy bear.

Your breathing started to steady, becoming normal. Snapping him back to you. “Can you stay?” You asked hesitantly, feeling his dick soften more inside you.

Simon sighed, he shouldn’t. He needs to leave, get up, and go home. Last time he would see you. Delete the number and never see her again. Literally “Ghost” you never talk to you. You sat up, he realized how long he was silent.

“Or um…” You stuttered finding words.

His heart started to beat hard and fast. Simon placed his hand on your cheek moving strands of your hair. “Love to.”

Fuck. Only if he could say no.

[emmettworld]

hello, my beloved whump community. this is Emmett. but you probably know me better as this blog:

or you may remember the blog before that:

you may have even been here since this blog:

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my account was terminated without any warning today. March 25, 2024. all of my blogs are gone and i have lost everything i have on them. you won't even be able to see any comments or reblogs for me on any of your posts.

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trust me, i'll have a better pinned post up at some point explaining who i am and my multiverse of AUs, series, and OCs, and links to my commission page, and my Ko-Fi...and i'll do my best to finish the masterlists and, once again, build myself up from the ground up...

but i'm exhausted. i never saw this coming, and it's made me realize just how unsafe i am. i lost so much content that was only posted on Tumblr and not saved anywhere else.

believe me when i say that i am fucking devastated.

but i'm not going anywhere. i will die with this site when it eventually goes down, and not because it tried to kill me.

that being said, you can find me here on Cohost, which is where i'll migrate to when this place dies or where i'll communicate if i happen to get IP address banned (probably without warning) or something that prevents me from coming back.

if you don't want to refollow me here, i totally understand. i can't say how grateful i am to everyone who does, but like...i get it. it's tedious having to refollow me all the time, never knowing when a blog (or full ass account) is going to suddenly disappear. if you want to get off this crazy, unpredictable ride now, i don't blame you.

and if you decide to stick around, for however long, thank you. this day has been one of my worst nightmares and i don't think i would be handling this with nearly as much grace if it were not for my friends and everyone on my Discord server (which, by the way, is the only safe place where i share everything uncensored).

they were my first line of communication. they helped me get the word out. they rallied for me and kept me from having one massive breakdown over this, so my heartfelt thanks go out to them.

i'm using the whump community tags in hopes that more people will see this. i had hundreds of followers on my last blog, more than a thousand on the blog before that...i know this isn't going to reach everyone, but i hope it will reach some people.

thank you so much for reblogging this to help spread the word if you do. and thank you for reading. ❤️

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn��t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

Taglist - leave me a message if you’d like to join it :)

[thedovesaredying]

Little Chicken | Cowboy!Nikto x F!Reader | Oneshot

Figured out a cute little nickname for Nikto's reader in the Cowboy AU originally created by @ghouljams as always! I thought it was fitting since "chicken" or "chook" is an affectionate term where I live and I think it's an adorable petname.

Nikto has complicated feelings about watching his girl doing her job. She's by no means weak or incompetent at it, but he can only hold his nerve for so long.

Call of Duty Masterlist

“Цыплёнок,” Nikto huffs, trying in vain to call you back while he watches you continue to wade through the knee-deep water of the river. He normally trusts your ability to handle yourself with large and dangerous animals; this is your job and you’ve been doing it for years. But this? This is too far even for him.  

“Nikto! Come look!” you excitedly call to him, looking back to grin at him with that blindingly bright smile that shows off your dimples. In any other situation, seeing such a loving, genuine smile aimed his way would give him that warm feeling in his gut. Instead, it just concerns him even more that you’re paying attention to him and not the animal at your feet.  

“нет, we can see fine from here,” he keeps his eyes glued to the huge creature floating in place only a few feet from you.  

“Aww, c’mon Nikto! He’s only a little fella, can’t be more than seven or eight feet,” you look back to the alligator sitting on the riverbed. You hum to yourself, tilting your head this way and that as you observe the animal, “he’s got a nice thick snout, so it’s definitely a male.” While you continue to list different facts about the species, Nikto can only watch as the alligator in question starts drifting closer.

“-and look, because of all the sensory nerves along the top of the head, tapping the water’s surface like this will cause him to-” you reach down toward the water and- Before you can do... whatever it is you’re planning on doing, he takes a couple of long strides into the water and reaches down, hauling you bodily from the river.  

“нет, абсолютно нет, не происходит, нет,” He throws you over one shoulder and carries you back to dry land, regardless of your protests.  

“Nikto, Nikto put me down,” he ignores you, “I know what I’m doing, I wouldn’t have let him actually bite me.” You grumble when he continues all the way back to the truck the two of you arrived in, corralling you into the front seat with his broad body blocking you from attempting to escape.  

You hop up into the seat, turning your body so that you’re sitting facing out the open truck door. The truck is high enough that you can look him in the eye without craning your neck, and the pout you subject him to is admittedly rather endearing. “You will be the death of us, Цыплёнок,” he sighs, gently knocking his forehead against yours.  

Your brows furrow slightly, “I’ve never heard that one before, what does it mean?” you ask quietly, refusing to break this soft moment.  

“It means chicken,” he replies, and tries not to grin when you giggle, “you are like a little chicken, yes?” 

“Are you saying I’m a coward?” you pretend to clutch your pearls, but the dramatic reaction is ruined by your bright grin.  

“No, of course not,” he reassures you, “you’re stupid.”  

He receives a slap to the chest as you gasp, “Nikto!” You glare at him, poking his chest with a single finger, “I guess that makes you a donkey, then, because you’re a complete ass.” 

The cackle that bursts out of him is entirely genuine, but he can’t help it, not when you come out with something so unexpected. You quickly join him in laughter, and the two of you must be a strange sight, sitting in a truck beside the river, giggling like a couple of teenagers.  

“You’re lucky, Цыплёнок, no one else would be allowed to get away with being so rude.” Perhaps he’ll keep the name, it suits you, to be a sweet little chicken, and you don’t seem to be too put off by it given the way you plant a soft kiss against his clothed lips.

-

Translations:

"Цыплёнок" - Little Chicken - An affectionate term for a partner.

"нет" - No

“нет, абсолютно нет, не происходит, нет” - No, absolutely not, not happening, no/nope.

[niki-phoria]

pairing: gamer!niki x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 662

includes: gamer niki, non idol au, mentions of live streaming, lots of fluff

a/n: inspired by this post from @lovelylusts !! i hope you don't mind me taking some inspo from your idea <33

gamer bf!niki who mercilessly beats you at mario kart 

— he plays dirty too

— blocks the screen so you can’t see where you’re going, reaches over to tickle you until you drop your controller, distracts you until the time limit passes

— sometimes he does it intentionally just to see your pout

— he lets you win before you stop playing tho, just to see you smile

— if the other members are around while you’re playing they’ll purposely get in niki’s way just so you can win

— he pretends to hate it but the smile on his face says otherwise

gamer bf!niki who teaches you how to play his fav games

— it’s your fav bonding activity to do together

— he’s very cliche about it too

— niki sits behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands placed over yours as he helps you press the buttons on the controller

— the type to press kisses against your neck/shoulder when you pass levels or get better too

— probably tickles your sides when you accidentally mess up too lmao

gamer bf!niki who lets you play on his accounts (at the expense of his rank)

— he’ll even purposely go back to intro sequences just so you can see how to play

— niki is extremely patient while explaining everything to you

— he’ll do that thing where he puts his hands on top of yours and shows you how to use the controllers/play the game

— the members call him a simp

— he totally is one

gamer bf!niki who never lets you pay for your own games

— even if he has no interest in whatever you want, he’s willing to spend all of his money on whatever console/game you want

— helps you set up your account and figure out all of the controls too

— niki will play whatever you want whenever you want to

— you always get to decide what game(s) you’re playing for the night

gamer bf!niki who will always be your player 02

— doesn’t even let you think about playing with anyone else

— even if he’s literally falling asleep while you’re playing niki will sit next to you and follow you around your animal crossing island

— he’s totally willing to carry your team on pvp games too lmao

— massacres the other team and then turns to you like “good job jagi :D you got them all”

— he enjoys games the most when he’s playing with you but don’t tell anyone that

gamer bf!niki who makes servers just for the two of you

— he goes out of his way to hide them from his hyungs too

— probably had to kick heeseung off of at least one mc server lmao

— he gets super into it too

— makes a million different servers just to annoy you

— he doesn’t name them either you have to scroll through a list until you find “new world #18” to get which one you want

— “ki which one was the bedwars server again?” “...world number eight. i think”

gamer bf!niki who always invites you onto his streams

— exclusively streams with his members and you

— it doesn’t matter if you have your own channel or not he’ll bring you on whenever he can (or whenever you want to)

— if you do have your own channel, he goes out of his way to shout you out

— he will not rest until you have more follows than him

— “niki the numbers don’t mean anything to me” “but you deserve the support of the entire world”

— it’s really sweet honestly

gamer bf!niki who loves you so so much

— it’s mostly the little things

— the blue light glasses you bought him to prevent eye strain, your gentle hand and shoulder massages whenever his body gets sore, your smile when you drag him out on long walks just so he gets some fresh air

— niki truly adores you

— and he does everything he can think of to makes sure you know it