#emojis i didn't know i needed before

[a-big-apple]

Hello Radchdom!

I have come very late to this fandom and have found it to be quiet but filled with a sense of delighted energy any time some new scrap of content passes into view. You might say it's like a lake with fish in it, peaceful on the surface until they all come bubbling up around a few breadcrumbs...

I am hungry for more breadcrumbs!! Let's harness that energy for the greater good with @fandomtrumpshate, an annual fanwork auction raising money for progressive nonprofits!

You can read all the details in the FAQ, but the tl;dr is this: if you're a fic writer, fanartist, beta reader, podficcer, fanvidder, or just have specialist expertise or can give someone's story a sensitivity read, YOU CAN OFFER YOUR WORK AND CREATIVITY FOR FELLOW FANS TO BID ON!

In last year's auction, just one enterprising person offered a fanwork for the Imperial Radch series. But a song is even better with more voices to sing! So I've volunteered as a Fandom Ambassador to spread the word and encourage more folks to get involved in my fandoms.

🍵CREATOR SIGNUPS OPEN ON FEBRUARY 5TH!🍵

You can see the rest of the calendar here, but the other key dates for creators are March 9th, when bidding closes, and December 31st, when fanwork is due. That's ten months to create, agonize, erase, celebrate Republic of Two Systems Independence Day, agonize more, procrastinate, get My Heart is a Fish stuck in your head again, and then finally finish up whatever kind of work you've offered, knowing all the while that you helped to raise money for your choice of these excellent nonprofit organizations.

🐟🥚🎶🚀🎶🥚🐟Check @fandomtrumpshate from Feb 5-19 to sign up as a creator! 🐟🥚🎶🚀🎶🥚🐟

[arklay]

WIP DAY.

tagged by @girlbosselrond @morvaris @aartyom @risingsh0t @phillipsgraves @leviiackrman @indorilnerevarine & @denerims over the past month! sorry it's taken me so long to get to anything at all, i'm sure you guys have heard me address it enough, but thank you all so much for continuing to tag me in things while i've been inactive ♡

tagging @aelyosos @brujah @calenhads @florbelles @jendoe @lightwardens @liurnia @nokstella @nuclearstorms @shadowsofrose @shellibisshe @steelport @swordcoasts @wrymbloods @voerman & all of those who tagged me again cause i'm so behind + anyone else who'd like to share anything they're working on, not just writing! ♡

i haven't written anything since the last wip game i did, but i started trying to put diana's timeline together at the start of january, so i mean... i'll show that instead. as you can see, fatigue hasn't let me do much with it even though i've got all of her timeline already done and strewn about all over the place.

started with 1995 onwards cause it was originally going to be an ewskers timeline situation, but then wanted to include all of her backstory so i went back to the start and still have the late 80s and early 90s to get through before then, but yeah :]

it's going to include like all little moments i've thought of between the ewskers just for me and placing them on the timeline, so you can imagine how long this is going to get if i have to go to 2021 for village... like just 1996-1998 is going to be so much... she's very special to me if you couldn't tell already lmaoo

never sharing this though, it's just for me, and like will help for when i do her timeline page (more in-depth version of what's on her oc page) to just run through canon events and brief descriptions and whatnot. you understand.

everything is blurred out besides 1995 ewskers momence and the years, just cause like idk her i feel weird sharing her in-depth backstory unless it's in dms or something, just cause there's lots going on there and yeah. things. idk

i also made a carrd for twt if you wanna have a look at that :] there's some cheeky subtle things with the two resi items i used as pics hehe

actually, you know what, i'll give a lil bit from where i left of with that rewrite anyways, even though it's been months since i wrote it. but why not

Wesker left a fleeting kiss behind her ear then reached around her and hooked his fingers beneath her coat, prompting Diana to glance back at him. But all he did was gently pull it from her shoulders. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye as he hung it up on the rack by the door, his movements careful and almost calculated, until he turned back towards her, and the warmth of his body returned once more. He pressed up against her side this time, as opposed to her back, and one of his hands found a home on her waist. The way the arm it belonged to was resting firmly against her as he began leading her towards the kitchen was comforting, secure, yet unmistakably possessive. And she revelled in it. He had quite the knack for handling her just the way she wanted.

[mintjeru]

just a little update!! bc i feel like it

[demieyesore]

so dom!mattheoriddle x shy!reader x Theodore Nott who’s there to just hold her and force her to take Mattheo.

just reader, sitting on Theodores lap and him having a hand grasping her two hands and one on her thigh to keep them open. Reader is crying from overstimulation and try to move her hips, while Mattheo is literally pounding into her furiously for talking to another guy. Theodore agreeing with him. 🫢

Jealousy, Jealousy - M.R x Reader x T.N

Summary - A fanfic in which Mattheo and Theodore see you becoming flustered by another boy and get jealous.

Warnings / Mentions - GN!Pronouns, AFAB!Reader, Shy!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Theo is just kind of there, Theo gets no action LMFAO, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Reader isn't actually interested in the third party, they only get flustered because they're shy, mention of Hayden Christensen's character Sam because I love him so much that I had to include him...size kink for sure, humiliation kink, breeding kink, mentions of baby trapping, squirting

A/N - As soon as I read this request, I got a second pulse ONG. Also as someone who is shy, writing this made me feel like a total slut

Requested - Yes

Word Count - 2,697

Tag list - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely @yourenogoodforme @gallerygourmet (Add yourself to my tag list and or remove yourself by going to my pinned post! You can also pick an anon emoji through my pinned post!)

Your whole life you have been a shy person; Always getting embarrassed in the most stupid and silly situations. You once got flustered while buying an item at the store, you were trying to explain yourself and stuttering over your words when the shop keeper told you that she was only kidding. The item in question was a packet of Band-Aids, you needed them because you were always tripping over yourself, always finding mysterious bruises and cuts on your body. Unfortunately, Mattheo and Theo had gone a little wild the night before, your neck was absolutely covered in hickeys. 

Despite you trying to cover up the purple and red markings; the first thing the older lady said to you when she grabbed the box was, "Honey, you might need to grab another pack with how your neck looks." Of course her comment caught you off guard and you immediately tugged at the hoodie you had on, pulling the neckline upwards in a clumsy attempt to hide the love bites.

So really, it should be no surprise that when a Slytherin boy came up to you and flirted with you; completely unashamed, might I add. You reacted very awkwardly, your face promptly heating up.

You were outdoors in the courtyard of Hogwarts, leaning against one of the trees while practicing a spell from the previous class lesson. You scratched at your head in annoyance and confusion when it once again failed. You huffed a frustrated breath of air as you pocketed your wand.

When you weren't paying attention, a boy walked up to you and cleared his throat to get your awareness. Your eyes drifted up to his face, he had black hair with a streak of blue running through it. He had a multitude of piercings but his most noticeable was one sticking out from below his lip. He wore thick eyeliner and maybe even some black eyeshadow if you were to look close enough.

You recognized him as one of your classmates, Sam. You had never really talked to each other, but you weren't oblivious to him staring during lessons. It never bothered you, it did always startle you and bring a small amount of pink to flush your cheeks. It wasn't out of attraction to him though, more so just being more conscious of yourself knowing that you were being watched, seen, and perceived.

"Having trouble?" He asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Your eyes widened as you stumbled out a response.

"No, well I mean yes, but not anything too hard..." You replied, anxiously messing with your after school outfit. Sam was quick to mutter something under his breath, something that you didn't quite catch but you swore that you heard him say, "Not harder than me." 

He quickly spoke up again, speaking more clear this time and with confidence. "You should come to my dorm tonight, my roommate and I are throwing a little party." Your face visibly faltered, and hesitancy was evident on your features. "I'm sorry Sam, I don't really go to parties and I'm supposed to hang out with Mattheo and Theo." 

He looked you up and down briefly, his tongue sucking on his canine in what seemed like irritation. "What they don't know won't hurt them." He gently grabbed your hand, playing with the ring that your boyfriends collectively bought for you. 

"Sam, I really wish I could go but I just don't think I can make it tonight..." You whispered, biting the inside of your mouth as anxiety filled your system.

"God, are you stupid? I'm trying to say that I like you." His free hand ran through his hair, messing up the typical style he had it in.

Sam was a cute guy, don't get me wrong, but you simply weren't interested and you already had two boyfriends. Which sometimes they can be even a little much to deal with.

Sam's effort to convince you to go was abruptly stopped as a fist connected with his face. He fell backwards, dropping his grip on you when Theo protectively held you against him. Mattheo shook his hand, trying to find relief from the pain he had caused from punching the douchebag flirting with you.

Mattheo basically spat at the fellow Slytherin, "Yeah? Well guess who's dating them." Mattheo would've beat his fucking ass if you let him; Jealousy was raging through both of the boys. Mattheo was more loud about his anger while Theo was just passive until violence was necessary. 

Mattheo didn't want to spend another goddamn minute of his time near this asshole, he was already on the ground so there's no need to continue the fight when he's already won. Mattheo's hand grasped your upper arm, dragging you in front of him as he walked away from the Courtyard. Theodore followed loosely behind, his hand resting on the lower part of your back.

They lead you through the corridors, not uttering a single word as they pushed you into their shared dorm. They had already shed their school robes before the quickly ended fight, never wanting to wear the uniform afterschool.

"What a fucking dickhead." Mattheo scoffed, referring to the scene that just played out. He sat on the end of his bed, manspreading while trying to shake the feeling of jealousy. His hands with intertwined as his head hung, just looking at the ground. Theo on the other hand was massaging his temples as if he had a headache. 

"The audacity to say all that bullshit is unbelievable." Theo's accent was more prominent, often a result of his temper running thin. 

He said an array of curse words in Italian, none of which you could understand. Mattheo just kept staring at the ground, something was definitely on his mind besides the interaction.

You sat down next to Mattheo, Theo still standing; even beginning to pace back and forth. Mattheo put one of his large hands on your thigh, kneading the skin possessively. He was now staring at your thighs and how his hand roamed your skin. His opposite hand was holding up his face as he lazily laid on his palm.

"Why were you blushing?' He finally asks, his fingers impatiently tapping along his cheekbone. Theo's pacing stops as he turns to look at the both of you. His eyebrows furrowing as he thinks back.

You tilt your head in puzzlement, "What?" Mattheo groans, throwing his head back before turning towards you. His left leg hiking up onto the bed. His hands moving to latch onto your hips while he leans in. His face laying on your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. "I said, why were you blushing? He said he liked you, and you were blushing." Mattheo murmured, his controlling side peaking out. He was trying his hardest to stay calm with you, but he couldn't keep his thoughts away. He saw how you looked at that freak, a blush settled on your face while he messed with the ring that he and Theo got you. It was a promise ring, although that part was technically a secret. They never called it a promise ring, just a gift. But both of them knew that it was them promising themselves to you and to each other as they adorned the same matching ring.

"Mattheo- I was just flustered, you know how anxious I get...especially with other people..." You defended but Mattheo persisted. "With other people? Are Theo and I not enough to get your heart racing?" He quipped back as he selfishly left kisses on your throat.

"That's not what- that's not what I meant!" You stuttered out, your heartbeat increasing in your chest. He hummed against your neck, sending vibrations down to your core. "Right, I forgot, you only get shy around us when we fuck you." 

"Mattheo, don't say that..." You whined, embarrassment flooding your veins. "Why not? Too vulgar for you?" He questions, still pressing firm kisses into you. Theo finally laughed a little bit, already knowing where this was going. He sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard while he watched the heating up conversation.

"Yes! You always say such...risky things..." You mumble out, trying to find the words to explain his vocabulary. "Risky? You really think so? Theo, what do you think?" Mattheo scoffs, his arms protectively enveloping you while he looked over your shoulder at Theodore. Your back was turned to the boy with light brown hair.

Theo thought for a moment, pausing just long enough for you to nervously push at Mattheo's hold on you. Suddenly you felt too warm, like your skin was on fire. Mattheo tightened his grasp on you, placing another kiss to your neck. "Stay still." He whispered, his voice low and commanding.

Theodore ultimately decided to say, "I think...they should be just as flustered when talking to us. We're your boyfriends after all." His sentence started out directed at Mattheo but switched over to you at the end. "Theo-" You whined out in a complaint.

"Always so whiny..." He counters while Mattheo sucks at your jawline, demanding your attention once more. "You heard him. We're your boyfriends, that nobody shouldn't be getting reactions out of you that we don't." Mattheo lets go of his clutch on you, shoving you backwards, leaving you to fall towards Theo. His soft hands pulled you into the free space between his legs. You were in a position where you were partially sitting upright against his chest but loose enough that you were still laying down.

Theo's hands gripped the underneath of your thighs, prying your knees to bend so your legs were open. Mattheo swiftly removed his shirt, tugging the fabric over his head. He shuffled over to your open legs. He practically yanked off your pants, pulling your underwear down along with it.

"This okay?" Mattheo glances up at you, checking in with you. He observed as you nodded your head slowly. One of Theo's hands gripped your jaw, his sultry tone dripping. "Words." 

You twisted your head away from the boys, wanting to just disappear from shame. "It's okay..." 

"Good, because you obviously need a reminder that we're the only ones that can make you feel like this." Mattheo mumbled under his breath. He undid his belt, tossing it to Theo. Theo made quick use of the leather, tying your wrists together as he secured the rest of the belt in his mouth. Wanting to make sure that you couldn't move your hands while his own held your legs open.

Mattheo unzipped his jeans, freeing himself from the restrictions of his boxers next. He spat his saliva onto his cock, stroking himself a couple of times to coat the fluid over his dick as a makeshift lube.

"Sorry sweetheart, not getting you ready for me today. I need you now." He admitted, lifting your hips and forcing them to wrap around his waist.

He ran his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness. "Holy shit, no foreplay and you're absolutely soaking. You little slut." He ridiculed. You failed in an attempt to close your legs, feeling the embarrassment seep into you while Theo tightened his hold on you, keeping your legs secured in place.

"Aw, poor baby, too flustered from my words alone?" He mocked as you rocked your hips closer to him, teasing his tip.

"So needy for cock..." He whispered as he finally pushed into you. Your walls squeezed around him as you tried to adjust to his size. "Fuck, don't snap my dick off. I forgot how tight you are, shit." He said breathlessly at the feeling. 

He slowly moved, trying to ease your cunt into the movement. When you started to roll your hips onto him, Theo slapped your thigh, holding you down with enough pressure so that way you couldn't get yourself off. 

Mattheo gained his pace, his hands laying on your hips as he thrusted into you. You could feel Theo's boner pressed against you but he made no strive to relieve himself in anyway. Mattheo pounded into you with no mercy, the sound of your moans echoed in the dorm. You tried to hold back your moans, even trying to muffle them. Mattheo could feel you flutter around him as you climaxed for the first time. 

"Couldn't even hold off on one orgasm for a little longer? Fuck, you're such a little slut, you'd probably like it if I slapped you. Maybe you'd cum on my dick harder if I manhandled you." You whimpered at his words, they repeated in your mind as he kept fucking you through your high. But he didn't stop and you knew he wasn't gonna stop.

"Oh come on baby, you can take a little more can't you? Don't you want to be good for me?" He taunted as he slammed back into you. "You know that nobody else could make you cum like this right? Ain't ever gonna leave us." He chattered to himself possessively, as if he was talking himself through the experience.

His thrusts became sloppy as he chased his own high, his eyes were closed tightly as his head flew back. He was still pumping deeply inside you as he came. He pulled out for a second, watching as his cum leaked out of your sopping hole. "So pretty when my cum is inside you." 

His eyes darkened as he swallowed harshly. He pushed his tip back at your entrance, but not fully entering you. He was pushing his cum back into you, his eyes were hazy as he re-entered you.

"Can't fuck anyone else if you're carrying my baby, now can you?" He fantasized aloud. He quickly regained his composure, regaining speed, not even allowing you the time needed to recover from your climax.

"Mat-Mattheo, stop, I'm too sensitive..." You whimper out, moans falling loosely from your lips like a waterfall. You could feel the wetness between your thighs, you could feel every single touch, your skin was crawling. It was all becoming way too much. "Too much, it's too much-" You could feel your mouth going dry as you started to overheat, but none the less, Mattheo kept tearing through your cunt. "All worn out? Too fucking bad." He muttered in a cold tone, not caring about the discomfort you were feeling. You tried to pull your hands apart, the skin itching from the leather belt wrapped around them. Tears began to form in your waterline.

Mattheo was essentially abusing your pussy, all he wanted and craved for was to feel you pulse around him. He drilled into you, observing as you stiffened again, your body shaking as another orgasm was pulled from you. Tears were fully streaming down your face from the overstimulation.

"So fucking precious when you cry, all tired from my cock ruining you. I wonder just how cockdrunk I can get you." You mumbled, jutting your hips out as you squirmed from pleasure and pain. Theo struggled to hold you down, groaning when you accidentally rub against his painful erection. "Stop fucking moving." Mattheo demands, slapping your cunt causing you to whine.

Theo removes one of his hands from your thigh, placing pressure on your lower stomach, making it so you could feel Mattheo's cock inside you even more. You moaned so loud that it was almost pornographic. "Feel that?" Mattheo asks, throat going dry when he sees the bulge in your stomach. He looks at Theo for a second, speaking as if you weren't even there. "Fuck, you should see just how our baby's cunt sucks me back in. Every damn time." He moans, as he cums inside you again. Filling you up, he still doesn't stop, not until the bed is dripping in your liquids.

He finally comes to a stop, pulling out of your pussy with a pop as you squirt. You sprayed his dick with the fluid as he just smiled down at his work with a dominant aura. He was getting off on the fact that he had made you squirt, getting off on the fact that only he and Theo could make you cry from how good they felt.

[kenananamin]

Where did Nanami go?

a small collection of events where the people around nanami wonder if he's been abducted by aliens where they switched his brain after seeing how different he is with you (but they love it and keep hoping to see more) fluff, nanami being the best boyfriend, fluff literally just typed this all in one go and did not edit. lol enjoy!

nanami is the 'i'm not reading all that, im happy for you or im sorry that happened' person to gojo. but you send one long long message to nanami and gojo glaces to nanami's phone and just sees his whole screen covered in one long blue bubble. he asks if you're ok or if he needs to step away to call you but all nanami says is no and starts reading the message. gojo sees nanami read a bit, then types a small reply, presses enter for the next line, reads some more, then another small reply, and repeat. is he replying to every single sentence in your message?!

gojo gets curious so he leans a bit closer to actually see the message. it was not an emergency... but your review and interpretation of the 2009 movie Mother?!

gojo leans back shocked. nanami would never reply to such long messages he'd send. if the message was longer than 4 lines, then nanami might never even reply to it. but he's carefully reading your message as if it was the latest report that would be the difference between life and death in the next fight. he's replying to every single point you're making and are those emojis?!

gojo is floored, truly baffled and entirely speechless.

gojo wonders, what movie can i watch that might interest nanami and get him to reply to me in a message longer than a sentence?

———

gojo and itadori walk out of the school with nanami. it's time for nanami to clock out but gojo and itadori are heading out to try a new restaurant that evening. nanami gets a call at 6:01pm while he's still walking with them and stays back a few steps to answer your call. nosy gojo perks up his ear to listen if nanami's voice changes when he answers your call. it's not too different but gojo swears it did change a bit as if there was a little smile on his face. there was.

you ask nanami if he'd like to join you for dinner at a restaurant after work and nanami just asks for the address and says he's on his way. he excuses himself from the guys and gojo wiggles his eyebrows as nanami says he's got somewhere to be. yuji continues to talk about the last movie he saw that he loved but megumi kept rolling his eyes at.

gojo and yuji get to the restaurant after their leisurely walk and see nanami - wait! nanami setting the table?! they're both shocked bc even though their steps were unhurried, it's not like they took a long time to get to the place. you walk into the restaurant and spot nanami wiping what would be your side of the table with his hand, wiping anything that might have been missed by the cleaning cloth.

"kento!" you smile and jog to the table. he looks up and smiles when he sees you, but the smile drops when he spots the open mouthed gojo and yuji you just passed by. you stop walking and turn to see who or what he's looking at.

gojo snaps out of it and goes to introduce himself to you before leading the group of three to the table that nanami is now standing next to. he had heard about you because he pestered nanami enough to tell him about your existence and your name, and that's really all gojo knew. he asks nanami how he got to the restaurant so quick and nanami blandly replies that you work nearby and he wanted to get there first aka he lightly jogged but gojo didn't need to know that.

nanami was kind of expecting it but it still surprised him a bit when you extend a courteous invitation to gojo and yuji if they'd like to join you both for dinner. what was not a surprise was that gojo immediately sat down. yuji hesitates a bit but you tell the young man to sit and assure it's ok. nanami sighs but decides to just roll with it and goes to slide out your chair so you can sit. gojo and yuji give a quiet 'ooooohh' to the action and nanami just shushes them and sits next to you.

nanami is stiff at first and you notice so you slide your hand to hold his under the table. gojo notices the action though and feels like giggling and kicking his feet for his friend. it still takes a while for nanami to relax a bit but he eventually slumps a bit in his seat and smiles a lot easier after a few drinks w you. gojo and yuji stick to their sodas and nanami is happy to order wine for you both.

gojo and yuji make easy conversation and everyone genuinely has a nice dinner. nanami is ready to say bye to the guys as you finish a conversation with yuji about a show. gojo and yuji excitedly watch you both walk away as nanami keeps a hand on your lower back to lead you down the street then moves to hold your hand. they start giggling out loud, a little too loud, when you step even closer to hold his arm with your other hand and lean your head on his shoulder as you walk back home.

———

yuji excitedly goes to nanami to ask if he can join you guys after work. nanami is confused but yuji tells him to check his phone. you had asked if he wanted to visit an ice cream parlor and bakery with you and that you had asked yuji for the name since he brought up the place at dinner.

“we were talking about the show hannibal and she recommended a movie if i liked that show so i did the same and recommended something. she said she'd let me know what she thought the next time she saw me but i didn't know when that'd be and i think she read my mind so we exchanged emails,” yuji rambles nonchalantly about exchanging information with his girlfriend.

"nanamin, i thought you didn't like sweets?" nanami confirms that he does not care for them but you like them and he always finds another bread or alternative to eat as you eat your sugar-filled dessert.

yuji gives a thumbs up and that the man has his respect. nanami tries to ignore the comment… but the compliment feels nice. what didn’t feel so nice was two other kids attaching themselves to yuji and nanami for the ice cream.

he gets in the car and looks back at nobara, yuji, and megumi through the rearview mirror and hopes you don’t mind these kids attaching themselves like leeches on your date. and you don’t mind, it was nice to finally meet some of the people he’s talk so much about and you liked hearing new stories about him.

you’re getting a couple samples and pass them to nanami once you’ve tasted a bit. he wouldn’t get a full ice cream for himself but he could do samples... and indirect kisses. you read his mind (bc you were thinking the same) and try to flirt and raise your eyebrows at nanami seductively but shy away and start to laugh instead. nanami know what you were trying to do yet again and he finds it endearing every time you do it. he pulls you in from your waist and leans down to kiss your bare shoulder thinking the kids are too busy looking for their own desserts to notice. they were not busy, they were looking and saw it all.

the kids are shocked, nobara is taking notes bc she wants that romantic gesture, yuji wants to cheer him on, and megumi's eyes widen but he wonders just how long nanami's been hiding this side of himiself. all in all, all three kids want to see this side more and start planning ways to go out with you both again.

———

nobara and maki go shopping for some spring clothes and as nobara is talking about a store she saw while maki got an iced coffee she stops in her tracks. nanami is inside the store they were about to pass and he's standing as still as a statue... holding a couple shopping bags in one hand and a purse on his shoulder. maki follows nobara's gaze and chuckles but prepares to walk away. nobara grabs her arm and pulls her into the store but hides behind a rack to keep watching nanami.

you come out of the dressing room in the perfect little black dress and nobara and maki can't help but stare in appreciation and awe. they were impressed by how you looked but even more impressed when nanami took out his phone and took a picture. even from afar, they could tell it was a damn good picture and that that man knew your angles.

———

gojo wants to go to a club. he knows nanami will say no straight up so he starts the conversation with, "hey you know what y/n might like?" gojo tries to sell the club the best he can but nanami just says ok and walks away.

gojo texts nanami later that night to ask (plead) him if he'd want to go and all nanami says is that you both will meet him there. gojo hums as he gets ready and arrives to the club. he sees you and nanami walk into the dark and loud room but immediately notices nanami's black button-up that has the top few buttons opened and no tie, and your little black dress. it's shorter (and honestly sexier) than what gojo imagined you'd wear in an outing with nanami but he has to admit that his pair of friends were a damn wonder to look at. he discreetly takes a photo of you two and sends it to nanami. it becomes nanami's favorite photo.

gojo compliments both of you and you thank him saying you had told nanami he'd look great with that simple button-up and gojo agrees. nanami blushes a bit at your compliment. gojo asks about your dress and you laugh recalling when you were getting ready. you had asked nanami if you could wear the dress since you weren't sure if it was too short and he just nodded and basically said 'dress slutty, i can fight' (not in those exact words but that's how you registered it and you fell even more in love with the man). nanami really did not care about what you wore, he would definitely voice if something was not appropriate but he has not said anything about any of your clothes since you've met. gojo couldn't even laugh at nanami's response to your question, he was impressed and turns to nanami to give a thumbs up (and writes that down to use later).

———

all the students sit with nanami and gojo in the cafeteria. they're sitting around waiting for their meal after their mission when nanami remembers that he promised to call you after he was done. he had accidentally let it slip that the mission seemed dangerous and you asked if he could spare a moment after the mission to call or text you to make sure he was fine.

he excuses himself and gojo faintly hears your voice before his friend fully walks out of the cafeteria for his call. immediately after nanami leaves, the students huddle closer to the table and start talking about you. gojo is kind of shocked by the student's reactions but they all look at him and in their own way talk about how much they like you for nanami. a cold and serious man has the embodiment of bubblegum on his arm and they loved it. gojo joins his giggling students and nanami waits a moment outside the cafeteria door to listen to his team rave about you before walking back in with a light blush on his cheeks.

[angelltheninth]

Could you do a Vox x secretary!reader where he is in love with her, but she's just so nonchalant to his advances and very professional about her job?🙏💕

Simping Vox? Guess he didn't see Valentino's coffee mug.

Pairing: Vox x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, crushes, flirting, boss x employee relationship, suggestive, pining, secretary!Reader

A/N: I feel like he's an expert at simping, the man obsessed over Alastor for 7 years.

Vox is in love with you and everyone in the Studio knows it. There's no subtlety to his affections or his flirting with you. He will do it while he's on the air too so even his viewers know he's trying to get with you. They don't know he's head over heels in love, they assume he's just trying to get in your pants.

"Ugh... fucking red loser!" Vox's staticy voice scrambled up your phone so you had no choice but to look up from it and see your boss walking towards your desk. He looked pissed. Ever since the Radio Demon came back he's been pissed off.

And you noticed, visiting you a lot more. "I'll cancel your meetings for today, sir. You look like you could use a break." His tired, angry face shifted to that of delight.

"Oh? And will you be keeping me company during the break hm? I could use stress relief, if you know what I mean." His eyebrows wiggled on the screen and your phone pinged seconds after.

Upon opening it you saw a text from Vox, it was a lot of blue heart emojis, an invitation for drinks and signed with "Voxoxo" which he was very proud off for how cheesy it was. You never thought Vox would be the type to flirt with employees, that was more Valentino's deal, but he wasn't immune to the charms of a pretty lady in a suit jacket and miniskirt.

"And you for my dessert." He pushed his long, glowing tongue between the V gesture he made. By god was he shameless. The worst part was that it was starting to work on you. You have been professional this whole time. No, no, he is your boss! You can't cross that boundary, it would be so messy.

But maybe you could tease him a little. Putting on your best smile you stood up and leaned over, not missing how his eyes darted to your breasts before you hooked your finger on his bow-tie and tugged. Face to screen you whispered in a sultry tone, "You should keep those feelings for after hours, sir. Then maybe I'd be willing to see you on your knees." Vox's screen glitched out as his eyes widened.

"What makes you think I'd be the one on my knees?" He replied, gulping despite the confidence in his voice.

"You forget that I'm your secretary. It's my job to make sure things run smoothly with you and your workplace. I've seen the screens in your office, and the categories on them." You ran your finger over the right edge of his face, "If you'll excuse me, I need to do my job now."

"Uh... right. I'll leave you to it then." Rather then walking away he zapped away in a blur of blue static. Finally, he got a taste of his own medicine.

[janmisali]

what do you think of tone indicators in general?

unfortunately my thoughts on tone indicators are somewhat nuanced. fortunately, this is tumblr not twitter, so I can just write out my full thoughts in one post and be as verbose about it as feels necessary.

speaking as an autistic person (and I know there are other autistic people who don't hold this same view, this is just my perspective), I think as an accessibility tool, the extended set tone indicators in current popular use is fundamentally misguided.

the oldest ones, /s for sarcasm and /j for jokes, make sense. their notation isn't the most intuitive thing ("does /s mean sarcastic or serious?") but it's not too difficult to explain what they mean. I've had to spend my whole life learning by brute force what different tones of voice mean and what they change about how I'm supposed to interpret something, so I already know what "read this in a sarcastic voice" and "read this as a joke" are supposed to mean. my existing skills can be translated into the new form without too much effort.

the same thing applies to emoji and emoticons. I know what facial expressions mean, because I had to learn what they mean. figuring out if :) is sincere or not from context is a skill I've already needed to develop. it doesn't come naturally for me, but it's something I already at least somewhat know how to do.

most of the tone indicators in current use uh. don't work like this.

tone indicators like /ref or /nbh don't correspond to specific tones of voice. I don't have a "I'm making a reference" voice or a "I'm not talking about a person who's here" voice that I can picture the sentence being read in. these do not indicate tones, they're purely disambiguators. they clarify what something means without necessarily changing how it would be read out loud.

and on paper, that's fine, right? like, it's theoretically a good thing to take an otherwise ambiguous statement and add something to it that clarifies what you meant by it. the problem is that these non-tone tone indicators are not even remotely self-explanatory. it's up to me, the person who is being clarified to, to know what all these acronyms are supposed to mean, and how they change the way I'm supposed to interpret what something means.

it's, quite literally, a newly-invented second set of social cues that I'm expected to learn separately from the set that I've already spent my whole life figuring out, and it works completely differently.

sure, these rules are (in principle) less arbitrary than the rules of facial expressions and tones of voice and how long you're supposed to wait before it's your turn to speak, but they're also fully artificial and recently invented, which means they're currently in a constant state of flux. tone indicators go in and out of fashion all the time, and the "comprehensive lists" are never helpful.

in theory, I appreciate the idea of people going out of their way to clarify what they mean by potentially ambiguous things they post online. if it worked, that would be a really nice thing to do.

however, sometimes I imagine what the internet would be like without them. what if instead of using /s, the expectation was that if you're sarcastic online there's no guarantee that strangers reading your post will know what you meant? what if instead of inventing more and more acronyms to cover every possible potentially confusing situation, we just... expected one another to speak less ambiguously in the first place?

so, I on paper like the idea of tone indicators. I think it's good that some people are trying to be considerate by being extra clear about what they mean by things. but if tone indicators didn't exist, and people who wanted to be considerate in this way instead just made a point of phrasing things more clearly to begin with, I think that would be vastly preferable to even the most well-implemented tone indicator system.

also /pos sucks because there's something deeply and profoundly wrong for an abbreviation that means "I don't mean this as an insult, don't worry" to be spelled the same way as an acronym that's an insult

[autistic-britta-perry]

helppp someone told me I'm easy to get along with and that made me start doubting whether I should REALLY get a diagnosis

[javiscigarette]

Emergency Contact

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Frankie gets in trouble and this is the last time you're helping him. At least that's what you tell yourself.

Warnings: angst, smut, post break up, mentions of drug/alchol use/abuse, military ptsd, frankie on a downward spiral and needs to get his shit together, emotional smut because I had to, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, frankie is literally this emoji -> 🥺 the whole time

w/c: 6.8K

a/n: part of @iamasaddie writing challenge 2.0!!! I picked puppy eyes brown and my genre was angst with the prompt: "Tell me how to fix this." And guys listen. I literally never write angst I’m such a softy but I tried my best with this okay! and I obviously had to include some smut I just couldn't resist hehehe. Also thank u to my baby love @undrthelights for finding theses pics and for everything else you do :) enjoy!

my masterlist

You should scream at him, yell at him. Tell him to get the fuck out, fight him tooth and nail to prevent him from worming his way back into your heart, to avoid anymore pain.  But then he’s against you, his chest flush against your back, legs tangling together under the blankets. He slips an arm around your waist, the other underneath you, pulling you against him tighter as he nuzzles into your neck, burying his face into your hair and takes a deep breath. “Just one more night" he whispers. "Please. Just let me have one more night."

The vibrations of your phone buzzing on your nightstand pulls you from a deep slumber, your heart is already pounding at the sudden noise, the rest of your body slow and sluggish as you try to gain your bearings. 

You paw for your phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen when you find it. A call from a number you don't recognize. You debate letting it go to voicemail but the area code is local and that makes you pick up, a raspy Hello? leaving your mouth as you roll over in bed, glancing at the clock. 

2:13 am.

The sound of your name crackles down the line, the immediately recognizable voice causing your heart to plummet to your ass.  

"Frankie?" You ask, sleep quickly leaving you as tension takes its place.

"...Yeah, sorry, I…I didn't know who else to call." His voice is frail and pinched.

You don't have to ask him what's wrong, your brain already piecing the puzzle together You've been in this exact position before. The anger is already starting to creep in, your brow furrowed and stomach twisting as a familiar rage blooms in your chest.

"You couldn't have called anyone else?"

You know the answer is no. The rest of the boys are on a mission, leaving him behind after he failed on his promise to stay clean for long enough to get cleared to go. And now, you’ve fallen victim to that decision too,being the only person left to call whenever he finds himself without a leg to stand on. Frankie in trouble, you bailing him out. Just like normal. 

"I'm sorry I didn't want to bother you I just..." he takes a deep breath and sighs. "I'm at the station on Oak street. Can you maybe... pick me up?"

You close your eyes and take a moment to compose yourself and reign in the anger at the way he's gotten under your skin already.

"What did you do this time, Frankie?"

He's quiet for a second before he finally says, "DUI. And um, slightly resisting arrest? It’s uh, it’s my first one and I didn’t blow too high so they’re letting me go as long as I show up for court in a few days."

His voice is soft but you can hear him fighting back emotion, his voice cracking and straining under the pressure. the sound eliciting sympathy you desperately wish you didn't feel.

"Jesus, Frankie," you sigh, defeated already.

It shouldn't even faze you at this point. It should be expected given the path he's fallen down since his return home from their last mission 3 months ago. The Frankie you knew before he left had been a steady force. Protective, headstrong but soft in his demeanor, so sweet and full of love. The man now standing in his shoes still holds some traits of that Frankie, but they've all been scarred and tainted with his fall from grace.

Memories of the nights spent tucked in his bed, his arms around you, his hands buried in your hair come flooding back like they usually do. The sound of his laugh, the feel of the downy hairs on his forearm pressed against your skin and the steady thrum of his pulse under his jaw as you placed kisses against his neck. The words you would speak softly to one another in the early hours of the morning, secrets only shared with each other under the protection of black velvet night sky. 

All of it traded for bitter resentment and anger towards a version of the man that was ripped away from you.

When he was gone, you’d sleep in his shirts and on his pillow, clinging to the faded scent of his cologne as your brain conjured up ghost touches from his fingertips. Dreaming of the day that he'd come home, how he might touch you, and kiss you, the taste of his lips and the feel of his skin on yours. A reunion so deeply desired that the day after he returned was a sharp double edged sword - a blessing, and a curse. The Frankie that walked back in your life was broken, smothered with the weight of the innocent lives on his hands. 

Warmth and tenderness traded for stony silence. Nights now spent at the bar, warming himself up with vodka instead of your embrace. Fights ending in harsh words and raised voices as he stubbornly dug his heels in deep, too ashamed to admit he needed help. Staying out late with no warning and coming back at dawn smelling of smoke, weed, and liquor. You are always wondering where he went, who he was with, if he was safe, or if he’d found someone else to soothe the pain. 

Then the coke. An old habit that was kicked to the curb in his earlier years now back with a vengeance. Your ultimatum quickly following.

This or you.

A choice you prayed he'd be strong enough to make, but was clearly not.

And now here you are. Two months since you walked away, trying to convince yourself it was for the best. The majority of the last two months of his life is a mystery to you, which you've accepted is probably for the better. 

"I know," he finally replies. "I'm so sorry baby, you know I..."

You can almost hear the way his jaw snaps shut, three words catching on his tongue. You don't need to ask to know what the next words are. Tonight was not the first time he's tried to use them in a vain attempt to patch up a crack in the foundation of your crumbling relationship.

There’s nothing but silence on the line as a war wages within you. Part of you wants to believe that he’s the selfish, careless man that he’s recently proven himself to be. But your heart whispers in your ear a softer notion. He's scared. Fragile. Battered. Embarrassed. Alone.

With a heavy sigh, you run your hand down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe away some of the grogginess clinging to you.

"I'll be there in 20," you say.

There's a pause before he speaks, "Really?"

Always an air of disbelief.

"Yes. But this is the last time I'm doing this Frankie, I mean it,"

"I know, I... thank you."

You don't bother to reply, simply hanging up the phone as the heaviness of this final gesture sets in. The gravity of the situation, of the line you're about to cross, already threatening to consume you.

This will, without a shadow of a doubt, be the last time you show up to save Frankie’s ass. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself. Just like you told yourself the last time this happened and the time before that. But this time will be different. You'll set new boundaries. That's it, just ride this storm one final time and be done.

You know it’s a lie, one you desperately want to believe it.

___

He’s standing outside the doors of the small station, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, wisps of smoke rising and dissipating in the still night air. He looks up as he hears the engine of your car approaching, the red glow of his cigarette temporarily highlighting the deep frown on his lips as he takes one last drag before he flicks the butt aside and heads your way.

The anxiety radiating off of him is tangible as he drops into the passenger's seat, gently shutting the door and peering at you with wide puppy dog eyes full of shame. You don't look at him, focusing on backing out of the parking spot before pulling onto the road.

He picks at the skin around his thumb and bounces his leg, his jaw tight. You wonder how long he’s been at the station. How long he’s been sober. You’re still not sure if he entirely is right now.

Most of the ride is silent save for the hum of your engine and the clicks of your turn signal. His eyes never leave you, he can feel him boring a hole in your profile, trying to catch your eye as you watch the road.

"What?" you finally snap.

"Nothing, just...I was wondering if I could stay with you tonight. I can sleep on the couch, I…I don’t really want to be alone right now" he speaks so softly it makes your stomach lurch.

"Absolutely not."

"Please? I'll leave early in the morning, by the time you wake up I'll be long gone."

The rage is back, glowing red hot in your chest, fingernails digging into the leather of the steering wheel, your knuckles white and tense. How fucking dare he ask. 

"Absolutely. Fucking. Not," your grit your teeth with each word, biting off the end of the sentence with a sharp finality.

"Right. Okay."

Silence takes over once again, your heart slamming against your chest, heat crawling up your neck as your cheeks grow red and damp. No. No. Absolutely fucking not. Absolutely not.

Frankie leans his head back against the headrest and rolls it to the side to watch you again. You can feel the disappointment radiating off him, hear him sniffling, his eyes, big and glassy, pleading when you glance over at him. 

It would be a lie to tell yourself that your “plan” isn't already halfway out the window as your jaw clenches and your gaze ping pongs between the road ahead and the man beside you. Deep in the darkness of your soul you know that with Frankie is where your comfort lies. It’s tucked in the space between his ribs, squished alongside his heart and lungs, running the length of his spine and settling between each vertebrae. You worry you may never be able to completely dislodge it, unsure if it would ever fit anywhere else in any other person.

Maybe it would be easier if Frankie didn't fill up the cracks in your heart with the fractured parts of his. If he didn't take up room in your brain that's not his to own, if he didn’t crawl under your skin and take root into your DNA. Now every cell in your body knows what it feels like to be next to him, now programmed to cry out for his presence when he isn’t near.

And it’s no different now. He’s here, looking so pathetic it’s almost laughable, staring at you with tears sliding down his cheeks that glisten in the glow of the headlights passing you by. Crying over something that’s entirely his fault. You should be the one crying right now. Not him. 

So you do. 

Hot angry tears spilling over your lash line. Though you can’t decide who you’re more upset with. The man who drank himself out of your life, or yourself for falling for him once again in spite of it all. Either way, it’s not enough to convince yourself to stay firm in your decision. 

Fucking pathetic. Both of you. 

“You’re out first thing in the morning and then I’m done Frankie. I fucking mean it this time, we can't keep doing this to each other."

“Okay. I promise baby, I will. First thing, I promise." He replies quietly. 

Your hand flinches with the urge to reach over and slap him for calling you baby. But instead, you clench your jaw and you shake your head at him.

"Don’t call me that, Frankie."

He quickly nods his head in understanding, his eyes again facing forward as he wipes away the wetness from his cheeks, watching the road the rest of the way to your house. 

—

Neither of you move once the car is parked in your driveway. The silence is heavy, cut only by the tick of the engine slowly cooling once you remove the keys from the ignition. You chance a look at him and find him picking at his thumb once more, his face red, his eyes soft and timid when they meet yours. 

“Tell me what happened, Frankie?” 

You ask even though you don’t really want to know. 

Frankie sucks in a breath and scrubs a hand down his face. 

"I got into a fight at the bar, got kicked out, made the dumb fucking decision to try and drive home and...now I'm here," he laughs mirthlessly as he waves his hands as a vague gesture to you, your house, his current situation. You can't tell if he's telling you the whole story, his answer simple and devoid of context. The context you’re sure wouldn't be good for you to know. 

“You could’ve killed someone, Frankie. yourself included,” you say after a few beats, your voice comes out sharp, frustration bleeding in each syllable.

He slowly nods as huffs out a breath.

"I know... it was stupid, and I was an idiot I...shit I was really careless and not thinking straight I’m sorry. I'm really sorry I-"

"I mean seriously Frankie,” you snap, cutting him off. “Do you ever, I mean ever, think about anyone but yourself? Or has it genuinely never crossed your mind that your shit might possibly affect the people around you?"

Frankie opens his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he's about to respond. You don’t give him a chance to. 

"How many more times are you going to take advantage of me, make me look like a fucking dumbass always showing up to rescue you? Why am I always the one covering for you, taking your crap, cleaning up your messes, only to have you throw it right back in my fucking face, every single time!"

Your voice cracks at the end of your sentence, chest heaving with each word that flies from your mouth. Two months worth of bitterness bubbling up from deep down, spilling over and cascading down your face in the form of frustrated tears.

"When did you become so fucking selfish, Francisco?!"

Hearing his full name fall from your lips spurs Frankie on, the last of his shards of resolve flying away as his walls come down.

"I don't fucking know okay?! I don't fucking know!" You flinch at the rise in his voice and his tone stings. But it's how quickly he follows up with a softer, feeble excuse that adds fuel to the fire, "I'm doing the best I can."

That does it for you. Hot searing molten rage pulses under the skin of your face, the tips of your ears hot with blood.

"Doing the best you can? The best you fucking can, Frankie? Fucking bullshit! Getting into bar fights, spending all your money on booze and blow, losing your fucking pilot license because you were too coked up to see straight? Was losing your driver's license just putting your best foot forward? Throwing your whole life away just because you refuse to get clean? Is that really the best you can do?"

You pause and swallow, giving Frankie a second to take it all in, letting him process the onslaught of scalding truths you've thrown at him, before you quietly continue,

"I can't keep doing this, Frankie. I just can't."

He sniffs and shakes his head in what appears to be defeat, his gaze fixed on his hands folded in his lap. 

“I know...fuck. I know I’ve fucked up alright? I know that. I just don't know how to fix this," he admits quietly, his wide eyes watching you helplessly. “Tell me how. Tell me how I can fix this. Please."

You bark out a laugh, sarcastic and cynical.

"Are you serious right now? What do you mean you don’t know what to do? How many times did I help you try to find a therapist, try to get you into a program? How many times did I suggest AA? Don't fucking tell me you don't know what to do because you do."

He nods, shifting around in the seat, sniffling yet again as he looks back at you. "Okay, okay. I get it, okay? But what can I do right now? To fix this at least for tonight?"

You sigh, deep and heavy, your entire body now just exhausted. You half wish he would put up more of a fight, call you a bitch, snap back at you for going off on him. Maybe it’d make it easier for you to let him go. But instead, he looks at you with desperate eyes and you can feel your resolve crumbling once again. 

"Just forget it, Frankie.”

But he won’t give up that easily. The man is persistent, you’ll give him that. 

"I'm serious. Tell me what I need to do right now to fix this. What can I do to show you how sorry I am?"

You stare back at him, jaw clenched, biting back the next words you were about to speak. They die on the edge of your tongue. You know the answer is.

Not a single damn thing.

"Look, I'll try harder, I fucking promise alright?” His tone becomes more frantic as your silence stretches on. “I’ll fucking try harder, please just...please," Frankie pleads, more tears welling in his eyes.

Your throat is tight, your head spinning and aching as your blood roars in your ears. He's already taken enough, stealing more would simply be the end of you. Giving in now would mean you've swallowed the bait, falling hook line and sinker into his trap, stepping back onto the slippery slope you've fought so hard to escape. And for what? More heartache, more bullshit excuses, more fighting, more pain?

But one glance into his wide-eyed, watery gaze and you know he's got you. Again. Faster than you can tell your mind no, your heart, foolish and hopeful, speaks for you instead.

"Lets just get some sleep, okay? It's late. We can...we can figure it out tomorrow."

"Thank you," he whispers immediately, relief coming off of him in waves. "I really mean it, I-thank you, I promise I’ll—“

“Can we not talk anymore Frankie? I just wanna go to sleep."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, let’s go."

There's nothing left to say, washing over the two of you as you make your way inside. You give him a towel and dig up some of his old clothes that live in the back of your closet from when he was here almost every night. You're back in bed before he’s done with his shower, tucked underneath the covers with your face pressed against your pillow, the silk fabric soaking up your tears of sadness and frustration.

The water shuts off and you can hear him getting settled in the living room. A pillow being fluffed, the creak of the couch when he sits. 

And then soft footsteps on the hardwood 5 minutes later, padding their way into your room.

He doesn’t knock. He doesn’t bother speaking either. He just simply creaks open the door and walks over to the other side of the bed, peeling back the covers before slipping into bed beside you. 

You should scream at him, yell at him. Tell him to get the fuck out, fight him tooth and nail to prevent him from worming his way back into your heart, to avoid anymore pain. 

But then he’s against you, his chest flush against your back, legs tangling together under the blankets. He slips an arm around your waist, the other underneath you, pulling you against him tighter as he nuzzles into your neck, burying his face into your hair and takes a deep breath.

“Just one more night" he whispers. "Please. Just let me have one more night."

You don’t have any fight left in you. Because at the end of the day, a night spent wrapped up in his arms, inhaling his scent, touching his skin and his beating heart is worth a thousand fights. And a million shattered dreams.

You don’t answer him, but you don’t tell him to leave either. Instead, you block out any looming thoughts, the impending worry of where this could go, or how bad the damage will be. For now, you chose to focus on the rise and fall of Frankie's breath against your skin, the way you fit so perfectly into his arms. 

One more night.

Frankie presses a kiss into the back of your neck, repeating his previous sentiment in a rough scratchy whisper, "Just one more."

And you listen to it resonate, bouncing around the walls in your head and tickling the space behind your eardrums.

Inhale

Exhale.

You should want to fight.

But instead, your body melts his, molding your bones and flesh against his, fitting into all the creases and gaps that have been carved out and reserved just for you.Trying to forget, to bury this pain as deep as possible,. Just for tonight. 

He waits a few more minutes, waiting until your breathing levels out with his before he makes his next move. His fingers trace mindless patterns on the skin of your stomach, goosebumps erupting under his fingertips, rippling outwards like a rock being tossed in a pond. He leans in once more, slowly dragging his nose up the length of your neck and curling his lip to press another kiss behind your ear. Then another.

And then another, this time lingering as he sucks softly on your skin.

Inhale.

You close your eyes, hoping for anything but this, yet feeling the sting of arousal spark below your skin.

And exhale. 

You’re better than this. You won’t stoop down to his level, you won’t let him chew you up and spit you out again.

But fuck, his lips are soft and warm, so is the breath as he exhales against your neck, lightly swiping his tongue and soothing the faint red mark he left behind with a small little hum.

“Frankie..." You warn, albeit much more breathless and weak than you would have liked. 

“Tell me to stop and I will," he murmurs, his beard gently grazing your sensitive skin, causing your toes to curl.

You take another deep breath, but this one is shaky, as you can't help but tighten your grip around his hand, squeezing his fingers as you lean your neck to the side, exposing more of your soft skin to him.

Dead in his trap. Caught so fucking easily. Pathetic.

But if his teeth and lips and tongue and soft, gentle touches are how you go down, then so fucking be it.

He hums his appreciation against your skin, scraping his teeth down to your shoulder, latching his mouth on a spot and sucking harder. Strong, callused fingers continue exploring, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to give him permission.

He rolls his hips forward against your ass and you bite your lip to stifle the whimper at how hard he is against you, his soft grunts in your ear traveling straight between your legs and fanning the flames building.

Then suddenly, he's sliding his hand up your shirt, squeezing your waist and traipsing over your chest until he’s cradling the weight of your breast in his palm, his thumb slowly brushing over your peaked nipple, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to moan out loud.

A small gasp escapes you instead, your fingernails digging into the back of his hand. 

"Frankie."

This time not a warning. It’s a plea. A desperate, burning want that you should be ashamed of. 

He murmurs into the shell of your ear then, his tone is deep and scratchy. 

“I miss you...I need you, baby. Just tell me to stop if you want. But I... fuck I miss you so much."

You don't tell him to stop.

You roll your hips back instinctively, a warm wave of arousal washing over you at the feeling Frankie's hardened length pressed firmly against your ass. He grunts in satisfaction as his palm slides from your chest and up your throat to your jaw. His grip is gentle as he turns your head to face him, his lips against yours without missing a beat. 

It’s too easy to fall right back into him, back into the practiced, very well rehearsed routine. To let him glide his tongue along the seam of your lips and coax them open so he can lick into your mouth, getting the taste of his tongue stuck behind your teeth. Too easy to let him remind you just how easily you fit in the palm of his hand, how tightly you’re wound around his finger. 

He kisses you fervently, desperately almost, lips and tongue moving against yours as though he’s trying to devour you whole, just like he used to. He’s been starving for too long.But right now, he's finally found nourishment, the feeling of your body under his hands and the taste of you on his tongue feeding his soul. Wanting more. Always more, entirely unable to help himself.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he murmurs, his mouth half a centimeter away from yours. “Let me make you feel good baby, please.”

As if you could say no.

As if you even wanted to.

He pushes his leg between yours, thick, firm muscle under warm skin pressing against your clothed core and you answer him with a roll of your hips, seeking out any sort of friction you can. 

It takes less than half a second for him to have you flipped over on your back. When Frankie truly wants something, he does it quickly and efficiently.

He moves above you, licking and kissing a trail down your neck. He makes his way down your body, greedily nipping at the skin stretched over your collarbones. He swirls his tongue over each nipple, only moving on when he’s satisfied. He presses wet, open mouthed kisses to your ribs and your tummy just above your navel, his beard tickling skin, making it twitch under his mouth. 

Your body is cooperating far more than it should, your hips lifting up instinctually when he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, your thighs automatically parting further, and your hands migrating to his head. Your fingers tangle in his soft curl, your nails softly scratching his scalp just like you know he likes. 

And when his tongue drags up your thigh you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop the reactive moan. But your back arches with pleasure anyway, the last bit of your resolve evaporating into thin air as you give into him freely.  

His hands burn hot where they smooth over your skin, a comforting weight and a familiar drag of calloused palms fueling the fire and tightening the coil in your stomach. 

“Missed you so much,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your pussy before you feel the first stroke of his flat tongue up through your center.

This time, you're not strong enough to hold back the breathless mewl that leaves your mouth. You immediately push down on his head while simultaneously canting your hips upward, needing more friction, dying for more of everything he's willing to offer. He slides his arms underneath you and hooks his hand over your hip bones, holding you down and keeping you in place as he tries to find salvation between your thighs.

Heavy breaths through his nose as he uses his mouth, lips and tongue working in tandem to take you apart. Lapping and sucking at your clit while his fingertips nudge at your entrance, dipping just enough to tease, waiting until he hears the high pitched whimpers that he's after.

And when you've reached that level of desperation he wants from you, whimpering and panting, he slowly dips a finger in.

He moans along with you as though he's the one experiencing the pleasure. He's always gotten off on this almost just as much as you. The warm, slick slide of his fingers in and out of you, how you gush on his tongue, your thighs trembling on either side of his head, the tingle of his scalp when you tug on his hair.

More addictive than any substance he's ever found solace in.

And against your better knowledge, you're more than happy to indulge him, let him chase the high you give him and let yourself drown in it as well.

Your back arches off the bed as he adds another finger, grunting into you and thrusting faster as you tighten and flutter around them. He finds the spot he's looking for with practiced ease, whimpering into you and groaning along with you as he drags his fingers back and forth along the spot that has you bucking your hips into his hand. 

He knows how to get you there. Knows how to do it fast. And right now, that's what he wants. He's craved it too long, spent far too many nights with his hand wrapped around his leaking cock your name on the tip of his tongue as he fucked up into his own hand. He wants to hear you fall apart again, feel you coming on his tongue, your walls clenching as they try to suck his fingers in deeper. Wantsto know that he hasn't ruined absolutely everything between the two of you.

"Come on baby, lemme feel you,” he urges, voice deep and rough as he brings you to the edge. His mouth, licking and sucking at your clit, works in perfect rhythm with his fingers, sliding in and out, crooking them at the exact angle and speed he knows will get you there. 

"Please, Frankie...need to– fuck, I'm..." Coherent words evade you as he works you towards your peak, your breath stuttering as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. Your grip tightens in his hair, tugging roughly in an effort to ground yourself as the wave of euphoria starts to crest, the undercurrent pulling you down. 

Frankie growls in approval as you tighten around his fingers, all your muscles tensing as the sensation crashes into you. Your mind and body shut off and float into that sweet state of oblivion as Frankie's name falls from your lips, mixed in with a litany of profanity and slurs and choked back moans. He doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down until you're yanking on his hair hard enough for it to hurt, trying to wiggle away from his touch.

Frankie raises his head up and locks eyes with you, the tip of his nose, beard, and cheeks shiny with your arousal as he looks up at you through his dark, heavy lidded lashes.

"Want you so bad," he sighs, breathless and needy, crawling up your body and resting his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. He kisses you again, soft and sweet as if he has the right, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

You whimper into the kiss and hook a leg over his hip to pull his hips towards you. His cock strains almost painfully in his boxers when he grinds it against you, your warm arousal dampening the front of the fabric.

"Gonna let me baby?" He rasps when he moves to your neck, his teeth scraping sensitive flesh.

You both already know he's won. You're not even putting up a fight at this point, any dignity you thought you had left totally abandoned the moment you picked up the phone. But he asks anyway, needing the verbal affirmation, needing the confirmation that you want him as badly as he needs you.

And you can't lie.You're both equally weak and vulnerable. Two pathetic, heartbroken creatures chasing a temporary relief. A small glimmer of something to make the pain more bearable, something to fill the hole for the briefest amount of time.

You both know. And neither of you care.

No response to his question. Instead, you push up the hem of his shirt up and he does the rest, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor before he hooks a thumb underneath the waistband of his boxers and tugs them down his hips and off his legs.

Your hand finds his cock and he hisses at the contact, his hips shuddering as he pushes forward into your grip. You swear he's thicker and longer than before, heavier and hotter where you hold him. Your thumb brushes over the tip, spreading the pearls of pre cum around, coating the rest of his length to ease your glide. Frankie's mouth finds your neck again, tongue and lips tasting and teasing, his shaky breath in your ear.

You try to push up onto your elbows in an effort to roll him over, wanting to take over. But a palm finds your chest, gently pushing you back down until your flat against the bed again. 

"Wanna look at you," he says simply, as he pushes his length into the palm of your hand once more before sliding out. 

He lets his length rest against your sensitive clit and gently rocks his hips, slicking himself with the mess between your legs, sighing whenever you gasp each time his tip nudges at your clit.

"Please..." you whisper, feeling pathetic and needy, but at this point too desperate to care.

And he’s equally impatient, not waiting another moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing in. 

You tense at the initial intrusion, not having been with anyone in far too long and the feeling is almost overwhelming. You're trying to remember how to breathe again as you let your head fall to the side, trying to hide from his intense stare. But Frankie's there, using a gentle finger to tilt your face back up towards him as his hips moving at an agonizingly slow pace to let you adjust.

"That's it baby. Look at me."

And you do, the heat in your belly burning brighter with his eyes boring into yours as he witnesses your surrender to him. Your heart aches, still raw and tender and in pain from all the hurt that's transpired. But you ignore it and tell yourself the tears in your eyes aren't a result of a broken heart, but rather of how full you feel as Frankie's length finally bottoms out in you.

"Fuck..." You both curse under your breath as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust before he starts to move his hips. You cling to his broad shoulders as he pulls out of you, his eyes glued to where you’re joined, his thick cock slick and shiny with your arousal before he slides back in again with a quiet groan. He repeats the motions over and over watching as he pulls out almost completely before pushing back in, stuffing you to the hilt.

"Shit,” he hisses under his breath, his eyelashes fluttering when you clench in response. “You feel so good baby, fuck."

He buries his face into your neck, panting and pressing soft kisses as his pace starts to speed up. The soft grunts in your ear turn into more desperate moans when you lock your legs around his waist, pulling him, trying to get him even deeper than he already is. 

Your fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulders, holding on for dear life, hoping that you’ll leave half crescent moon shapes embedded into his flesh. A painfull reminder for the morning that you were here and this was real, despite the circumstances.

His hands slide under your ass, angling it upwards to let him hit just that little bit deeper inside, pushing the air from your lungs with each thrust. The muscles in his forearms flex and strain as he tries to hold back, always making sure you finish before he does. 

And he doesn't have to wait much longer. Your orgasm is creeping up and taking over your body and Frankie can sense it. He knows exactly what to look for, knows all the signs.

One hand moves to reach between the two of you two fingertips pressed against your pulsing clit, drawing fast, tight circles just like you like it. Your grip on his shoulder tightens, your nails digging into the skin and dragging down his back as his thrusts become more erratic. 

"Keep lookin' at me," he grunts and you struggle to keep your eyes open. They sting, the image of him above you starting to blur around the edges as he drives you closer and closer to your release.

"That's it, baby. Lemme see it, lemme see you come on my cock."

He doesn't have to tell you twice.

You come undone again just like that, dizziness spreading and heart hammering in your chest as you sob out, pleasure consuming you from within. He fucks you through it, not giving you a chance to catch your breath, as he curses and rambles in your ear about how he's missed this, how he's missed you.

You've barely started to come down when he grabs one of your legs behind your knee and pushes it into your chest, letting himself sink even deeper into you. The new angle has your head spinning, drowning in an unparalleled amount of pleasure. Your eyes flutter and roll back in your head as you whimper his name, fingers curling into the pillow above your head.

He doesn't last much longer, breathless moans and strangled whimpers into your neck as he gives you the last few sloppy thrusts. He's almost there, and when he tries to pull out, it's the way your leg tightens around his waste and your needy whine that sends him over the edge, groaning and cursing with his face in the crook of your neck as he spills himself into you.

His cock pulses inside you with every wave, his hips chasing his release, tiny jerks as he empties into you. He stills, his heavy breathing in your ear, his weight resting on you, heavy but grounding, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

Once the room stops spinning and the stars clear from behind your eyes, you drop your legs. With a shaky sigh, Frankie starts to pull out, both of you groaning in protest as he slips out.

His cum leaks out of you, quickly pooling between your thighs no matter how hard you squeeze your legs together. And when he catches sight of it, it makes your face burn. At the mere sight of his sticky, warm release spilling out of you, mixing with your own, Frankie swears he could go another round right then. Something about knowing he marked his territory, his claim on you established once again. He looks up at you, your eyes closed, forehead creased, and he has to dig his nails into his palm to keep from dragging his fingers through the cum leaking out of you and pushing it back in, keeping it where it should be. 

But the weight of reality is starting to press on him once again, the fear and shame from earlier taking root again and tugging at his stomach and pulling him out of the euphoria.

He kisses your hip bone once before making his way to the bathroom for a wet washcloth. The room is silent as he cleans you up, wiping gently between your legs, both of you keeping your eyes on anything except each other's. 

When he's done, he stands and moves to gather his clothes off the floor, tugging his boxers back on before heading towards the door. But your shaky, watery voice breaks the silence and freezes him where he stands.

"You're leaving?" You ask, voice squeaking at the end as you pull the sheet up to cover yourself, as if it would protect your heart when he ultimately breaks it again.

He turns to look at you, his heart aching in his chest from the innocent way you're looking at him. The way your eyebrows draw together, and your lips pull into a frown, the way your lower lip trembles as your eyes fill with tears.

"Can I stay?"

His voice is quiet, fragile, as if speaking any louder would scare you off, would cause you to start yelling at him again until you ultimately kick him to the curb for good.

He stares at you through the darkness of the room as you chew on your lip and try to grapple with the split decision you’re facing.

The logical part of your brain is screaming at you to say no and end this right here and now. But that part of your brain is buried and silenced underneath the heaviness in your heart. That desperate need to hang onto whatever's left. You swallow the lump in your throat and give in.

"Please," you plead softly. "Don't...don't want to be alone anymore."

A rush of air leaves his lungs as the pressure is released from his chest as he climbs back into bed beside you. Your head finds his chest, curled into his side and letting his arms wrap around you. His embrace is familiar, comforting, your safe space.

You count the steady beats of his heart in your ear as his blunt fingernail scrape lightly up and down your back, knowing it always soothes you. No words are spoken but the air between the two of you is thick, full of the things you both want to say, but neither of you speak.

Sleep wraps its tendrils around you once again, exhaustion settling in your bones. You welcome it fully, even though you know when you wake up, you'll have to face the reality of the situation once again.

You can only hope that he'll still be here in the morning to face it with you.

For now, you let yourself drown in the warmth of his embrace, pushing away all the other things that are gnawing at you and letting yourself relax in the arms of the man who broke your heart.

Just one more night.

Thank you for reading!! :))

[captainreecejames]

The "You Can Call Her Phone" Series (Lewis Version)

inspired by the tiktok edit by britcedez, "you can call her phone but she aint gon answer... you can call her phone and I'll probably answer." this is the first of the series featuring different drivers.

warnings: man who can't take a hint, maybe a little bit of possessiveness

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

wc: 477

You're in the bathroom doing some skincare routine when your cell starts ringing. "Babe, can you answer that?"

Lewis grabs your phone from the charger, seeing the name Paul on the screen with a green puke-face emoji. He smirks as he answers it. 

"Hi Paul," he answers loudly, waiting for you to make a face from the bathroom. You stick your head around the door, eyes wide in what Lewis decides is a mix of disgust and bewilderment. It's 9:30 at night on a Tuesday, there is no reason he should be calling you. 

"Oh, Lewis." Paul is surprised on the other end, clearly not thinking that you'd be with your boyfriend right now. "Didn't think you'd be with our YN tonight?"

Holding back a scoff, Lewis decides that he wants to have a little fun. "Our?" He clarifies, raising an eyebrow at you. You shrug, moving back in front of the mirror. “Last time I checked she was my girlfriend.” There’s a pause on the other end and Lewis is a little surprised Paul hasn’t put up more of a fight.

“Well um… Can I talk to Y/N?” Paul is trying to sound assertive, but through the phone it comes across as whiny.

“She’s busy right now, can I give her a message?” Lord knows he wouldn’t actually relay any message the guy wanted to give you, but that wasn’t so important right now. 

“I was just concerned about how she was doing, so no need really.”

“Concerned about her well being? Are you trying to be her boyfriend?” Lewis’s voice is teasing, but it’s enough for Paul to know that he can’t play any games.

“I’m like her work boyfriend,” Paul answers and that just makes you wince.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. To be her work boyfriend she’d have to actually want to talk to you.”

At that you gasp, hoping that Paul can’t hear you from the other line. “Lewis,” you scold in a whisper, but he’s just smirking over at you.

“Well,” Paul huffs, which just makes Lewis’ smirk grow wider. “Then I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks for trying to check in mate,” Lewis gets in before Paul can hang up, laughing loudly as the screen turns black.

“I can’t believe you said that,” you tell him when he joins you in the bathroom.

“You told me to answer your phone.” He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, putting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think that you’d say that to Paul. It was so mean!” The smile on your face tells him that you don’t mean it. Paul was quite annoying and couldn’t seem to take a hint, hopefully talking to Lewis got it through his thick skull that you really didn’t want to spend anymore time with him.

[11cupid-tarot11]

How would your future spouse treat you on your moon cycle? <3

I was having such bad cramps when this question suddenly hit me and I figured we'd all love to know, right? Even though I get very cranky and like to be alone during my time of the month hehe.

1 -> 2

3 -> 4

Pile 1- Wheel of fortune, queen of wands, queen of swords.

So this person will literally try to pamper you, whatever that may look like for you. I'm hearing they'll respect all of your boundaries and will grant all of your wishes, they're very supportive. I'm hearing they don't like seeing you in pain and they understand how uncomfortable this time frame is for you.

I think this person is naturally caring and easily can read human emotions and they're giving therapists vibes tbh like they could work in that field or maybe for some I'm picking up on massage therapists, this person just seems like they know humans enough like maybe they studied it or it could just means they've studied you so well they know what you need (I said 'want' at first but was directed to switch it to 'need'. Someone's fs here likes being in charge lol) . Either way, I think they'd love to be your massage therapist around this time. I'm hearing anything to make you feel good.

THEY WILL LITERALLY TREAT YOU LIKE A QUEEN, pamper you, spoil you.

I'm hearing for some, around your moon cycle you get mood swings maybe? Your entire energy changes enough for this person to catch on and they'll know before/when you're on your period because of this. Maybe you're usually very chill and calm and around this time you're just more cranky than usual like me lol and your person will try very hard to just make sure your okay and not taking their head off? Lol, the way your person talks is very funny, they're very funny and so so sweet!

I think this person will treat you so well simply because they love you, you're their baby and they respect you so much. You're literally their queen. They love you so so much 😍 they want me to leave this rose emoji for you 🌹 (I think they're very giving, it's just in their nature 😭)

Other messages- my sweet girl, lots of chocolate and warm towels, hugs and I'm picking up on those who would rather be left alone for moments at a time they understand, they'll check up on you occasionally and will still be very affectionate (u can't refuse their hugs I'm hearing no escape lol 🤣😭 they're very cute. I think they like compliments? They might blush and smile a lot?) The type to randomly kiss ur forehead or cheek when ur literally just ✨chillin✨ just because.

Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!

Pile 2- Ace of swords, temperance, the fool and the hermit.

So I think this person actually doesn't know much about a women's cycle, I think for a specific few they're the only child or maybe they just didn't grow up around a lot of feminine energy so this just isn't their field but I'm hearing they'd try damn hard to make sure everything's okay!

They'd follow your lead on this, like they prefer to maybe watch you from afar during this time? Like sometimes they don't know if they should bother or if they could help at all so they'll probably just straight up ask if there's anything they can do. This person isn't immature about it, but they do feel a bit awkward during those days? (I'm actually dying at ur person, they hardly know how to describe anything?)

Okay, for example, say you're having very bad stomach cramps and you've been in bed all day complaining, they would probably let you stay in bed as long as you'd like and would peek their head in the doorway to silently check up on you because they don't know if they should disturb you or not.

I think they'd love it if you just told them or ask for anything you need, I think they'd rather you rest and use them as a servant 😜 (ur person wanted me to add that, they felt very serious until now? I'm dying) until you feel better, they'll try different approaches tho, I don't think it'll always be this awkward. I think when you two have been together for awhile they'll pick up. I think then they'd mix up their own home remedies, and their own strategies by now, they're not very specific on what this could be or what it could look like because I think this person doesn't really want you to know?

They really want you to feel cared for and like they're there for you as much as possible so they're constantly thinking of new ideas for you!

This is not an 18+ reading and take it how it resonates but I think a very selective few wouldn't mind having intercourse on their moon cycle? 👀

Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!

Pile 3- Death, Ace of coins, The tower, Page of wands

This pile feels different, I was getting the energy of your person being shy and excited to have their turn for the reading 🤣 maybe this person isn't someone who you see romantically at first, could be a roommate a friend but you do know this person or they will come into your life at some point and you guys will have some kind of friendship from the start. It's giving secret admirer tho.

With the death card I'm thinking y'all could've just made it official, it feels like this is something new to them. Maybe it makes them feel a step closer to you? They think it's very cool you're trusting them enough at a time like this. They really value it.

I think they'll be the type to really go all in, ask you probably 20x a day "What do you need?" I saw that scene from Aladdin, when the genie is explaining how tired he is of being in the lamp and he's like "What do you need?Poof! What do you need? Poof!"

This person is trying to charm you and maybe show you they really care for you by doing this, I'm hearing 365 days a year they'll be like this tho, not only when you're on your moon cycle. I think they want you to be vulnerable with them or can't wait to see more vulnerable sides of you.

Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!

Pile 4- The moon, Kight of coins, Temperance, Kight of swords.

My pile 4's energy is different, I think this person could be older than you? This person overall isn't someone who's very cuddly or could even be very hard to read so moments like these really show that side of them in their own way?

For example, say you ran out of pads but your stomach hurts too bad to go get them yourself, your person wouldn't be thrilled to shop in the women's section but for YOU they will, they'll go get your pads and make sure they're the right size and everything (I'm hearing he'll literally call you and ask what size he should get).

They're very serious when it comes to you, they have dedication and it shows in the oddest ways possible.

So for your time of the month they'd be very chill about, the other piles felt all jittery and nervous like they were scared to mess up but your person is smart, he'll break down those walls for you, if you just want to cuddle in bed they'll hold you as long as you like. I'm hearing they're actually kind of "softer" at the right times (I'm sorry I can't think of a better word right now)

You'll love how this person will treat you and your needs and I'm hearing symptoms as well, they're very comfortable and reliable. He's like your big giant teddy bear! 🧸

Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!

[emphistic]

hiii can i request a scenario like sometime before sukuna and reader got together like what pushed sukuna to ask reader out :)))

pls don’t be lonely, in time your anons will have emojis/names ^^

A/N: ugh i hate beta reading (im sorry if you find any typos or mistakes), and i hate how this turned out — definitely gonna rewrite another version for this request

"Alright, your total is coming up to $11.89 Would you like to pay with cash or card today?"

You cleared your throat, "Could you give me a second?"

"Of course!"

You turned away from the cashier to face Sukuna, who stood behind you, and probably playing some dumb video game on his phone. When he noticed your gaze on him, he looked up at you, raising a brow.

"We ordered two croissants, two drinks, and two cookies, right?"

Sukuna hummed

"So why is our total so low? We always get this as our order and it always costs more than $11.89."

Sukuna shrugged, "Why would I know?" Then, an idea came to Sukuna — his eyes lighting up. "How about . . . we don't say anything, that way we get to pay less. See? At least one of us has brain."

You frowned at that last part, "Says the one who literally tries to cheat off of me on every test we take. Anyways, that's not a good thing to do. If we did that, we would be making this business lose money. What if this store goes bankrupt because of us? I really like their croissants."

Sukuna was taken aback, were you really this nice of a person?

"No way. Are you stupid? This is the perfect way to save—"

You turned your back on Sukuna and faced the cashier, "I have a quick question."

"Yes?"

"We order this every time we come here and our total is always higher than just $11.89, is there any reason why it's lower today?"

Sukuna facepalmed after hearing you.

"Oh, right! I forgot to mention, we have a 35% discount for all couples today — in honor of Valentine's Day being right around the corner. You guys are together, right? As in you're dating?"

"We are—" Sukuna began, eager to get a discount, as he knew you were paying with his card — not that he minded spending money on you.

"We are not, actually," you finished his sentence.

Sukuna's chest tightened at your words. He didn't know why. You guys weren't actually dating, so why did he feel the need to say you were?

"Oh, my bad. I just assumed because you guys were ordering together. Sorry again," the cashier retyped whatever they had recently put in on their screen.

You laughed, "Don't worry about it."

-

"Grandpa, how do you know if a girl likes you?" Sukuna had called for a meeting in the dining room with Mr. Itadori — the grandpa in question. The pink-haired elder sat on his chair, with a cup of still smoking tea in his hands, taking occasional sips here and there.

Mr. Itadori laughed, a boisterous, and clearly very amused laugh. "You've had plenty of girlfriends, how do you not know?"

Sukuna winced at the deluge of memories, because the only reason he even had girlfriends before was to get you out of his head. You were the only one he ever thought of, ever dreamt of. You were the only one so unfortunate as to have him thinking of you night and day. Well, that's what Sukuna thought. You, on the other hand, had a different idea of him.

"I just," Sukuna scratched at his nap, "don't know."

"Well, boy. It can be a very easy thing to know. Or it can be a very hard thing to know. My best piece of advice is—"

Sukuna sat at the edge of his chair, impatiently waiting for his elder to advise him further.

"—you never know. You can never know."

Sukuna's mouth fell to his feet. "You've got to be kidding me — Grandpa, please. I need your help."

Mr. Itadori laughed, again, "You've asked me your question. I've answered your question. What more do you want?"

Sukuna grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to feel. He didn't know what to do . . . about you.

-

This time, Sukuna had planned to meet with your parents, in order to further investigate and see if you had even a speck of feeling for him (besides friendship, of course).

"We've seen you two kiss before, a multitude of times actually. Why would she not like you?"

Sukuna immediately reddened in the face, "She's only kissed me on the cheek. And, ah, I've done the umm . . . same to her. I haven't done anything bad to your daughter, I swear — on my life." He held his hands up in a defensive manner.

"Relax, Sukuna. You seriously think we haven't seen your guys' photos from the photo booth at the fair last week? Besides, you're the only boy she has movie nights. You're the only boy she would ever work with on a group project. You're the only boy she ever talks about. You're the only boy," your mom said.

Sukuna gulped. "So, can I ask her to be my—" He winced. "—girlfriend?"

Your parents both sighed, "Kids these days. Always asking questions they already know the answer to."

Sukuna's heart hammered in his chest; this was it. He finally got his answer, the answer he's been dreaming of. Now here comes the hard part: figuring out what to do next.

-

"Wait, hold on Zoe. Sukuna just texted me," you turned your camera off in order to view your messages.

"Ooooh, it's Loverboy. How romantic of him to be texting you at 8pm on a school night. Shouldn't he be getting his Z's in, considering he's like, what, 80 years old?"

You laughed, "He's only a year older than us, he just got held back."

"Uh huh." You heard the squeak of a chair from the other line as [you assumed] Zoe leaned back in her seat.

Kuna

Hey

Meet me @ the beach

I need your help rq

You

Wtf??

Why the hell r u at the beacj at eight?

Kuna

Just get over here already

You rolled your eyes at his bluntness. "Sorry, girl. He needs my help with — actually, I don't even know what he needs my help for. Anywho, I'll call you back after."

"Sureee you will. After he kills you or something. Y'know, from the moment you introduced him to me, I knew there was something off about his demeanor—"

"Okay, bye!" You hung up the call and quickly slipped a pair of sneakers on.

When you pulled up to the beach, you saw a figure sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. You recognized said figure are none other than Sukuna.

"So, what's up?" You approached Sukuna.

He looked up, somewhat surprised to see you arrive so fast.

"Um—" He looked around, searching for something, before standing up quickly.

"You gonna tell me what's going on? Are do you want me to figure it out myself?"

"I'd rather you not do the latter."

"Oh my God, just tell me," you spoke, with an exasperated expression on your face.

Sukuna sighed, before thrusting a bouquet of roses (he's not that basic, he just didn't know what flowers you liked best, and was too scared to ask) into your arms, saying, "Be my girlfriend."

"Sorry — be your what?" Your mouth fell open in utter disbelief.

"My girlfriend," he muttered, now turned away from you; you could see the tips of his ears reddening. "Are you deaf or something, kid?"

Even when he was flustered he worked hard to keep up a cold attitude.

You regained your posture, clearing your throat, "Does that line work work with all the ladies? Is that how you get all your girls? Oh, please. 'Be my girlfriend'? What the hell, Sukuna? Is that seriously the best you've got?"

"Ugh, forget it." Sukuna stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and began to walk away.

"Wait — I never said my answer was 'no'."

That made him turn around instantly.

"But I never said my answer was 'yes'," you teased, flashing a grin in Sukuna's direction.

"You're so annoying," he met you halfway.

"And you're such a silly goose," you booped him on the nose, earning a grunt in response. "Of course I'll be your girlfriend, 'Kuna," you stood up on your tippy toes and placed a chaste kiss on Sukuna's chapped lips.

As you pulled away, he brought you back in for another, more zealous kiss, this time. One of his arms wrapped around the curve of your waist while the other played with your hair; you placed your hands on his shoulders.

This was it.

Sukuna now knew what to do. Sukuna now knew what to say. Sukuna now knew what to think. Sukuna now knew what to feel. Sukuna now knew you.

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso

[satorusugurugurl]

If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!

Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞

Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭

Hi Anon!

This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!

Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.

Word Count: 3,706

Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut

A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!

Part Two

She Likes it Like That

“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”

You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.

Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”

“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”

“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”

“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”

The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.

The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.

One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.

“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”

“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.

“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”

“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.

“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”

Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.

You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.

“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”

“I-I uh—”

“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”

It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.

“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”

“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.

“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”

You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.

“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”

“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”

Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.

“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”

Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.

What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.

You fucking loved it.

Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”

“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”

“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.

Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.

This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.

The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.

“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”

“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.

“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”

“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”

“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.

Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.

Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.

“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”

Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.

One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.

Yeah, he was going to let you cum.

Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.

Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.

“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”

“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.

“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”

You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.

“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”

“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”

Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.

Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.

“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”

“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.

“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”

Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.

“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”

You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.

“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”

With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.

His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.

The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.

After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.

“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”

You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.

“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.

After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”

“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”

The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.

“Did you bring home my mochi?”

In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || He's Whiney About The Nickname You Have Him Under

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

SEOKJIN: 

Ever since the boys had teased Jin last week about the nickname in his phone he'd begged you to change it so you did. Maybe it was petty of you but that's what you did, you changed it back to his full name even if you didn't want to. 

"Why?" He suddenly called out as he stared down at your phone, you were just texting the group chat when he saw his name popping up on the screen.

"Why what?" You mumbled looking at him a little confused as to what was upsetting him.

"Why is my name so cold in your phone?" You glanced down at it, it was simply his full name with no emoji just like he asked you to do.

"What are you talking about? You said you didn't like the nickname." You shrugged your shoulders not seeming bothered by any of this since he'd been the one to tell you to change his nickname from what it was. Besides, "cutie pie" wasn't even that bad, you did find him cute so what was the issue with it?

"I was lying." He whined a little, sitting beside you on the sofa and trying to take your phone from you but you smirked taking it away from him. 

"Well, it didn't seem like it." You mumbled at him.

"Baby, please," He whined, begging a little as he cuddled into your side,

"Please change it back," He looked at you and you bit down on your tongue trying not to smirk at him.

"You said you didn't like the nickname I gave you,"

"Cutie pie was great, please change it back." He whimpered a little and watched as you slowly changed his name back to "cutie pie" with a pie emoji at the end.

"Better?" You smirked before he nodded, cuddling into your side.

"Much." He whispered before kissing your cheek.

YOONGI: 

Last week Yoongi had made a fuss over the name he was saved as in your phone so you'd changed it back to "Yoongi" since he clearly didn't want to be saved as something cute anymore. You don't even remember why he'd been so against the nickname in the first place.

"Can I use your phone to call mine? I can't find it." He asked as he looked around the living room, he couldn't find his phone anywhere and he was beginning to worry a little.

"Sure, you know the password." You mumbled as you continued to look under the sofa for his phone. Yoongi unlocked your phone before letting out a small whine.

"What the fuck is that?"

"What?! A spider?!" You screamed out, jumping up from the floor and onto the sofa in case the spider was around you somewhere but you turned to look at your boyfriend who was still holding your phone.

"What happened to my nickname?" You frowned a little and stared at him, he was the one that told you to change the name and now he was whining about it?

"You said you didn't like "cuddle buddy" anymore so I changed it." You shrugged, getting down from the sofa and looking at the phone as he silently changed it back to the nickname that it was before.

"I thought you hated it."

"I did but I don't like it being just my name." He mumbled calling his phone so the two of you could go back to hunting for it.

HOSEOK: 

"Hobi bear," Yoongi teased Hoseok for the sixth time in the span of 30 minutes but Hoseok seemed to have no reaction to it anymore. The boys had discovered Hoseok's nickname earlier in the night and Hobi had begged you to change it to something other than that so he wouldn't be so embarrassed about it.

"It's not his name in my phone anymore." You shrugged at him and Hoseok stared at you completely dumbfounded.

"What?! Why?!" He called out, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he stared at you.

"Because you told me I needed to change it," You frowned clearly not understanding why he was suddenly so upset about you changing his name back to something normal.

"But that was just to impress the boys. Put it back," He told you as you took your phone out to show him

"You said you didn't like it, so I changed it to "Hoseok,"" You shrugged your shoulders but he was already clicking on "edit" on his name so he could change it back to his nickname, the boys all smirking as they listened to him whining at you.

"And I lied. Please...Please put it back," He begged as you nodded, smirking as you changed his name back to "hobi bear" with a giant smile on your face.

NAMJOON: 

Namjoon wasn't the biggest fan of nicknames for one another so when he'd seen his name saved as "Joon-bug" last week he'd gotten a little moody about it but nothing compared to this. His name was flashed up on your screen and he suddenly felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach. It felt so cold to just see his name on the screen instead of the cute nickname he'd gotten used to over the years,

"Will you change my name back?" He questioned, handing you your phone as you frowned at him.

"What?" You laughed softly taking your phone from his grasp and unlocking it to go onto his contact information.

"My name put my nickname back." He whined out, looking at you as he cuddled into your arms making you giggle a little.

"You can call me it whenever you want, you can name me it, but please...Put it back," He whined, it was rare when you saw whiney Joon come out and you were loving every second of it.

JIMIN: 

"You need to make up your mind," You laughed at Jimin as he followed you around the house. He'd just discovered that you'd changed his contact name to his actual name in your phone and he was acting like a baby about it. As if he wasn't the one to kick off just last week that he hated the name you had him saved as.

"Just change it back," He whined at you, his full whiney state coming out as he watched you closely. You slowly turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow at him,

"You told me you hated it because it sounded like that cricket from the Disney film." You reminded him of what he'd said last week and his eyes saddened a little,

"But it was your nickname for me and I want it back," He pouted as you shook your head at him. You'd nicknamed him "Jiminnie" in your phone because it wasn just something cute and adorable but after what he said the other day you weren't so sure on it anymore.

"I love the nickname please put it back," He begged, holding onto your hand as you let out a small sigh and nodded. 

"I'll do it later," You promised before kissing his cheek softly.

TAEHYUNG: 

The boys had teased Taehyung religiously all week long for the nickname you'd had him saved under in your phone and now they were continuing to do so as you all sat down for a movie night.

"He's not saved as "my alien" anymore," You told them plainly, after the way Tae had reacted last week you'd been quick to change it back to his name.

"What? I'm not? Why?!" He asked suddenly defensive, in truth, the boys didn't bother him with their teasing but knowing you'd changed his nickname to something else was beginning to bug him. How could you change it?! It was something you liked to call him.

"Because the boys teased you." You reminded him but he shook his head at you, reaching for your phone and giving it to you.

"Please change it back, please," He whined out making the boys all chuckle around you as he whined and begged for you to change his name back to what it usually was.

"My alien," You giggled as the boys all began to tease him again but this time Taehyung didn't even care, he just cuddled close to you.

JUNGKOOK:

"What the fuck?" You heard Jungkook grumble from beside you, You looked away from the movie on the TV and turned to stare at your boyfriend.

"What the fuck is this?" He put your phone down on your lap and you stared down at the screen with his contact information displayed.

"Your phone number?"

"Where's the nickname gone!?" He questioned, pausing the movie and staring at you as he awaited your answer but you didn't know what to tell him. Just last week he'd been asking you to change it to something other than his nickname,

"You told me you hated it."

"No. I just said I didn't like it." He shrugged his shoulders, he didn't like it but it didn't mean he wanted you to change it.

"Boo-thang, was our thing." He grumbled, a blush settling on his cheeks as he tried not to get embarrassed about it.

"I'll change it back for you then," You smirked as he wrapped his arms around you while you changed his name back 

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @psychosupernatural @lyoongx @royallyjjk @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @laylasbunbunny @ratherbfangirling @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Part 22)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: Smut!

Word Count: 4,106

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

For the third time tonight you catch yourself bobbing your head and mouthing along to the words of the song blaring through the walls instead of reading the words in the art history book that you’re staring at. 

Cursing, you toss your pencil into the crease of the textbook and lie your head in your hands. You’ve read the same page three times over but you haven’t absorbed one ounce of information. It’s something about the art in ancient Rome and the different ways God figures are portrayed. 

Your phone buzzes from the spot next to you and you can’t help but grin. You’d declined an invite to another one of Cassian’s infamous parties because you have a test on Monday and you can’t afford to fail. You barely passed the first one by the skin of your teeth and you’ll be damned if you don’t pass this class with less than a B. Azriel had even pestered you about it for a bit, but ultimately left you to focus on your schoolwork, or, as much as half of your attention on the page you could manage.

A: I can’t believe you’re studying right now. I can’t even focus on my drawing. How are you doing it?

Y: You’ve trained me in the art of studying with loud backgrounds, don’t you remember? You quickly follow that text up with another. Y: I should’ve joined in on the fun instead. I’m going to fail art history, anyway. I could really use a shot right now.

Azriel’s response pings your phone faster than Cassian saying something sexual. A: How about something else that might cheer you up? ;)

A puff of laughter chokes out. Checking the time in the corner of your screen your smile falls and you want to groan. You’ve only been attempting to study for forty five minutes.

Y: As mood improving that might be, I really need to study. This sucks. 

To garner some extra sympathy, you tack on a frowning emoji at the end.

A: It’s not that hard, princess.

It’s a bold move to reply: Y: Your cock? Or art history? But you hit send anyway.

A: Both, but the pair can be remedied.

Y: Come over.

There’s a sudden slamming of a bedroom door through the wall that startles you, then forces you into a fit of giggles, realizing how eager Azriel had been to escape his apartment and see you.

The thought sends butterflies off in your stomach and your heart kicks giddily in response. You’re just as excited as he is, shoving your chair back from your desk and bounding towards the door.

Soft light from the lamp in the corner of the living room washes the apartment in a warmth that feels like you’re being cuddled. The rest of the apartment is dark, empty. Feyre had popped her head into your room earlier, asking if you wanted to go to the party next door but at that point in the night you were still determined in your studying, waving her on without you.

There’s a soft knock on the door and when you tug it open Azriel is barging inside, all but tackling you on his way inside. His hands find your hips like a magnet and you’re swept up in the heat of his body as it collides with yours as he sweeps you further into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. 

“Hurry,” he whispers, and his long strides are no match for your shorter legs. You feel like you’re tripping, tangled up in him, but he holds you steady, firm, like a rock you’ve been missing from your life.

It’s quite nice.

Azriel reaches behind himself to lock your door before he’s turning back to you and planting a kiss to your forehead. “Before Tarquin sees me.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. He’s snug in his usual garb, a black t-shirt that clings to his body like a second skin. His jeans sit low on his hips, the waistband of his briefs calling your name. The fact that you know what’s beneath these clothes is as intoxicating as his blissful scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Who’s Tarquin?” 

“Old friend,” Azriel huffs. “He was just arriving at the party. If he saw me he would’ve wanted me to tap the keg with him and I’d much rather be here, tapping you, princess.”

You shove playfully at his chest but Azriel catches your wrists and pulls you back into him for a popper kiss. You fall into it, body relaxing and even pressing yourself further into him. His hands slide around your waist and over the curve of your ass where he grabs a handful, sighing contently against your lips.

He’s been the perfect gentleman since the chat you shared at Rita’s, and has even offered to walk you to and from your classes, though you suspect that has more to do with Lucien than not wanting you walking alone, even though you share most of your classes with Feyre.

“Hi,” you whisper when he pulls away only to rest his forehead against yours. His golden eyes bore into yours and you can see the happiness swimming there.

You can also feel it against your stomach. 

“Hey,” he answers just as softly. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” you remind him, but your chest flutters a little because you missed him too. You’d allowed Azriel to walk you home after your last class of the day but had drawn the line at the door that he pressed you up against, using that wicked mouth of his to try and convince you to let him inside. After a thorough minute of persuasion, he’d backed off, leaving you with a cheeky wink and both your mind and your cunt screaming at you to call him back. 

“Yeah but dealing with Cassian feels like a lifetime has gone by sometimes,” he jokes, following you eagerly as you lead him through your apartment towards your room. It hits you then that he hasn’t properly been inside of your apartment before, only having seen it when he walked in on accident, but there will be time for a tour later, right now you want him in your room. Preferably on your bed.

“What was he doing this time?” you squeal when he pinches your ass and you glare at him over your shoulder. 

“Sorry, princess, I couldn’t resist,” Azriel grins and you can’t help but smile with him. When the corners of his mouth pull high there’s a crinkle around his glowing golden eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. He looks younger, sweeter with that smile on his face. Azriel is a handsome man. “He was trying to get me to join in on the party. Think he was trying to rally some girls to play flip cup or something.” 

Azriel frowns when he steps into your room, not because he notices that the head of your bed nearly perfectly aligns with where his is pushed up against the wall you share, but because of the loud music humming through said wall. He knows it must be even louder when he’s the one blasting tunes at all hours of the night, but he hadn’t realized just how thin the walls were.

“Sounds a lot more entertaining than art history,” you grumble a little, slumping back into your chair at your desk. Your body warms as Azriel comes to stand behind you, planting a hand on the surface and resting his chin on your head as he leans over to look at your textbook.

“Ancient Rome,” he comments, and you can feel the delicious rumble of his full-toned voice. It makes you shiver in your seat, and you wonder if he notices you tensing, trying to stifle your reaction to his single word. “It’s not that hard, princess.”

“Of course you would be good at it,” you groan, slumping back in your seat. It causes Azriel to slip away, planting himself firmly on the edge of your desk. “You’re good at everything.” His golden eyes twinkle as he preens. You narrow your eyes at his smirk. “Oh, shut up.”

“Didn’t even say anything, princess,” he muses. “If I help you out with art history, will you be good for me, too?” 

You can’t help the rush of arousal spilling into your veins like adrenaline. The way he’s staring down at you through lowered lids, smirk turned into a face more serious, it’s a taunt as much as it is an offer.

“You wish,” you murmur back. There’s no heat to your response because it’s all collected between your thighs that you’re pressing firmly together.

“I do,” Azriel responds, gaze fiery.

And, well, those catacombs will still be there tomorrow. 

You allow Azriel to pull you up from your chair and into his chest. His hands find your hips while you wrap yours around his neck, amiring one another. It’s a soft moment backed by the buzzing bass of Cassian’s party but you couldn’t be happier right now, with Azriel holding you in his arms. 

You trail your fingers down his chest and he watches you, bright eyes never leaving yours as you swiftly slide them under the hem of his shirt. You can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you slide across his abdomen, reveling in the smooth skin of his chest, fingers dancing over the ridges of muscle. 

His grip tightens on your hips but you urge him with a soft tug to take the shirt off. Reluctantly, Azriel removes his hands from you only long enough to rip the shirt over his shoulders and then they’re back, pulling you closer than before.

You trace the line of his jaw and he allows you to drink in your fill of him because you’re looking at him like you’ve just found your inspiration for your next project, and he likes that raw look in your eyes, likes being the one you’re solely focused on. 

Moving downwards, you follow the line of his collarbones, fingering at the whorling ink there, like shadows of the night. They expand up across his broad shoulders and Azriel shivers when you lean in and flick your tongue against them, as if you can somehow taste their night-chilled forms.

Azriel’s breath hitches in his throat as you take your time inspecting each and every single one of his tattoos. The way you’re looking at him, the way you’re touching him makes him harder than a rock, and his cock strains painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He won’t move until you’re done, though, he won’t dare to break your concentration. 

Wrapped up in the black of his shadows are two cupids, bows fully loaded and ready to launch their arrows. On his arm, the tattoo of the female warrior you’d noticed at lunch when you were secretly admiring it, trying to figure out who it was. 

“Who is this?” you ask softly, and his answer is just as quiet, not wanting to shatter the trance you both seem to be stuck in.

“Nemesis. The goddess of vengeance,” Azriel explains, and your eyes are soft with grief when they flick upwards to meet his. He’s smiling softly at you though, and tenderly tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. He nods his head towards his other arm, showing you the other scrawled across that bicep. “This is Eleos, goddess of forgiveness.”

You can’t help the urge to surge forward and kiss him. His tattoos serve as reminders of a life he once lived, one filled with rage and hurt, the yearning to harm his step-brothers a forceful one. As time went on and his hands healed, he’d gotten that tattoo of Eleos, not because he was forgiving any of his family for how he’d been treated, but a year later when he was learning how to forgive himself for the time spent hating what had been done to his hands. 

And with those hands, Azriel lifts you into his arms. He’s kissing you just as passionately as you’re kissing him because without even an explanation, you seem to understand the artwork poked into his skin. 

He places you on the bed and follows you up onto it but you’re not done with your exploration yet. With little coaxing, you find yourself straddling Azriel, pulling away from a dizzying kiss and resuming your pandering of his body. 

An image of a winged man falling from the sky on the side of his ribcage, and two wings defining the hard muscle leading to the tent in his pants that makes your mouth water. These wings are feathered, unlike the membranous bat-like ones painted large across his back. Each and everyone is more captivating than the last, and as your fingers hover around the waistband of his pants, you lean forward and lick a long stripe over those wings.

“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hips jolting at the movement. His hands smooth your hair from your face where it’s falling with the angle and all of a sudden you want to feel those hands fisting around your hair, guiding your head while your mouth is full of his cock. “Princess,” Azriel warns, but the sound is choked, “I thought you were studying.”

“I am,” you answer, unbuttoning his pants. Azriel’s not doing a lot to help you focus on that work though, and you won’t be able to focus until you’ve tasted him, felt him like the piece of artwork he is. “I’m cashing in on my reward early.”

He hums, helping you rid him of his pants and briefs. His cock sticks out and it’s one of the best looking cocks you’ve seen in your life. It’s pink and leaking at the tip, ready for you to wrap your lips around. 

“You don’t have to—” Azriel’s words dispel into a rough moan when you take him into your hand and lick his slit. The taste of him explodes on your tongue, just as heady and delightful as the rest of him is. You know that you don’t have to, but with a tug of your hand up his shaft while you suck the head of his cock into your mouth his fingers tighten in your hair and you want this, you really really want this.

Swirling your tongue teasingly around the head of his cock, you jerk and twist the length of him. On reflex, Azriel tries to shove you further down on his cock and you allow it, moaning around his length when he hits the back of your throat.

You take him as far as you can, reveling in the noises he makes in response to your movements. When you suction your cheeks in, lathing your tongue wet and wild across his silky cock, when you use your grip on his base to jerk him off when you need to come up from air. You keep the crown of his cock in your mouth because he seems to love the warmth of your breath as you pant around him. 

“Princess,” he hisses when you twist your hand, “Fuck, baby, need you to stop or I’m gonna cum.” 

Gods, do you want that. Before you can eagerly continue your ministrations, Azriel is easing you away from his cock, his hands tearing at your clothing. You’re distracted by the way his hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, and you’re trying to relieve yourself of your clothing so you can feel more of those hands on your bare skin.

“Come here, gorgeous,” Azriel pants, pressing your naked body flush against his. You slant your mouth over his as you grind against him, your clit throbbing with need.  

“Condom,” you breathe between kisses. His hands smooth from your hips up your back and down again, guiding your hips to drag your cunt against his shaft.

“Pocket,” Azriel answers, unable to tear his mouth from yours. You strain over the side of the bed but are able to retrieve the condom with ease. You don’t even take the time to scoff at him for stuffing there out of convenience before he came over, because he clearly knew where the night was going to end up. 

You tear off the corner of the foil and roll it down his hot cock. Azriel’s golden eyes are hot on your body as he pulls you closer to him for another kiss. He’s addicted to your taste on his lips, the feeling of your body pressed against his. 

And you’re addicted to him just as much. The way he caresses every inch of your skin like you’re the finest piece of art he’s finally able to touch. The words that roll so effortlessly off of that wicked tongue of his, good for more than taunting you. 

“When is ‘yet?’” you ask, kissing across his chest. 

Azriel blinks, looking down at you with the cutest furrow of his dark brows. “What?”

You huff laugh at his confusion but are unable to keep your wet pussy from sliding across his heavy cock. The movement causes the both of you to moan and you melt a little against the warmth of his chest.

“You told Rita that I’m not your girlfriend yet,” you explain, finding the strength to continue your path down his body. You lap over one of his nipples and enjoy the way Azriel’s muscles flex. “So, when is ‘yet?’”

Azriel’s fingers find your chin, stopping you from biting between his pectorals like you want. He looks just as devastated by that thought as you are. “Impatient little thing, aren’t you? We haven’t even had our first date yet,” he teases and you fail to bite back your grin.

Your first date is tomorrow, and you have no idea what he has planned. You’re pretty sure that there’s no way that he’s going to be able to beat your first kiss at the museum, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Azriel, it’s that he’s full of surprises.

“We shared a milkshake,” you pout, squirming as he pokes at your sides. You enjoy the way that his chest shakes with laughter.

“And that counts as a date?” he questions, quirking a brow. You settle against him, even though your cunt is screaming at you to shift a little lower and sit on his cock. Azriel strokes soothing lines up your body, enjoying the feel of your smooth skin beneath his marred fingertips. 

You shrug, “If you want it to.” 

He puffs out a laugh. “You’re low maintenance.”

“For now,” you grin, poking his nose. “But that wasn’t an answer, Azriel.”

He can’t help himself, craning forward to kiss you. You draw him in like a magnet, and he’s never felt this raw need to be around someone before. When he first met you, he’d thought it a coincidence, how you kept running into each other, how he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you. 

Now, he knows it’s much more than that.

“And is this answer imperative to how the rest of the night goes?” He asks, rubbing his cock in a long stroke across your wet cunt. 

You gasp, bucking back against him, but you want your answer, first.

“I mean, I can go next door and—”

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence, princess,” Azriel growls, grabbing your hips to roll you over. You squeak at the swift movement and suddenly you’re pressed into the mattress with Azriel’s looming form towering over you. His gold eyes are sharp with possessiveness. It makes you tingle. “You’re all fucking mine.”

He follows his words by nestling the head of his cock between your folds. You squirm, trying to get him to press further into you but Azriel holds steady, even through your teasing.

“If I’ll have you, you mean,” your chest heaves with anticipation, your fingernails already digging into his skin. You want him inside of you right fucking now, and you’re regetting taunting him already. “Which means you’d have to ask me, though. See if I even want you back.”

“Oh, but I know you do, princess,” Azriel’s voice takes on the low edge that makes you want to scream. His cock inches further into your needy cunt and he nips the shell of your ear. “I know you want this all to yourself.”

Your keen betrays your words. “S’not that special,” you slur blissfully. You already feel so full with the head of his cock teasing that bundle of nerves that had your stomach coiling already.

The feeling of your nails ripping at his skin tells Azriel differently.

He hums like he believes you, knuckles brushing torturously down the center of your body to play with your throbbing clit. His chest constricts with the way that your cunt strangles his cock and he takes a deep breath so he doesn’t come only from this; your stubbornness and the way that you’re wriggling on his cock.

“How about I show you how special my cock is, and then I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He proposes. 

“How about you ask me to be your girlfriend and then you show me how not special your cock is,” you counter, but you’ll do just about anything to have him pressing in all of the way.

“Fine,” Azriel relents. “But if I make you orgasm more than three times, you can’t call my cock ‘not special’ ever again. You have to refer to it as the most special cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of cumming on. Oh, and that it’s pretty too.” And fuck, it really is pretty like this, tucked into your tight heat.

“Kind of a mouthful, don’t you think?” you ask, whining as he pulls completely out of you to rub himself down the length of your cunt. That glowing look in his eyes makes you glare, but it’s shortlisted when he nudges himself back inside of you again.

“More than a mouthful, princess, as you well know,” Azriel smirks, and you pinch his side. It does little to deter him, though. “You want it? You’re going to have to agree to my terms.”

“Did you want a blood oath or…” he threatens to remove his cock again and you scramble, clawing at his hips to keep him inside of you. “Fine! Fine.”

Azriel leans down and the way that his cock plunges a centimeter further into your aching cunt has you gasping, moaning against his mouth. You want to bite that smirk right off of his lips but he tastes too good, and his tongue is swirling against yours, making you forget. “Was going to ask you to be my girlfriend anyway, princess, even if you hadn’t agreed.”

You shift your hips and it works to guide him a little further inside but it’s not enough. You feel hot, like you’re going to explode if he doesn’t start moving soon. You need to feel his entire length stretching you out, shoving the air from your lungs and taking you like he’s no longer in control of his body.

“Well, bully for you, Azriel.” You dig your nails into the meat of his back. “I’ll take some of the most special cock I’ve ever had the pleasure of cumming on,” you grit. “Though that is yet to be determined.”

Your taunt does nothing to irk him into moving, though. Instead, he’s smirking down at you again. “You forgot pretty, princess. It’s pretty too, isn’t it?”

“Come on then, pretty,” you groan, on the verge of screaming. 

“I don’t think so, I haven’t held up my part of the bargain yet.” The words are followed by him pressing himself the rest of the way inside of you, enjoying the way the tension leaves your body and has you melting for him. You want him to start moving, need him to start moving, but Azriel’s gone all serious all of a sudden, peppering you with kisses until you can focus on him once more. “Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?”

“Yes,” you cry out, feeling so full your heart could burst. You drag Azriel in for a kiss that’s hot and desperate and a little sloppy. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, Az. Now, please move, baby, I need your cock.”

His gaze goes molten at the pet name the way you’re begging for him. He pulls his hips back and presses them forward again, finally giving you the friction you’ve both been desperately craving. 

“Of course, princess. Let’s give you what you need.”

⋅•��⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumebrs @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakura-frost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie

[kaisacobra]

Deal - Tara Carpenter

Summary: After a long time apart, you and Tara have to figure out if you can still save what you had or if you are too broken to be fixed.

Warnings: A bit of angst (maybe)

Word Count: 3.9K

a/n: This is officially the end of the whole "second best" saga! Thank you so much for everyone who read it till here, it was really fun to write. I hope you guys don't mind the open ending 🤭

Fourth part/Alternate ending of Second Best

Tara couldn't remember the last time she felt this nervous. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror for what must have been the hundredth time, adjusting her bangs again, sweeping them from side to side until they looked almost the same as they did initially. The bright light in the room highlighted her freckles and wide, brown eyes filled with anxiety.

It had been a little over a year since she last saw you, since you accepted a spot for a study abroad program after recovering from the injuries caused by the last ghostfaces attack. You went with Kate, and as far as Tara knew, you and the girl spent that time living together.

She vividly remembered the day you left, as everyone else bid you farewell at the airport while Tara drowned in her own misery in her room. She wanted to go, say something, maybe even plead for you to stay, but she didn't have that right. She had sworn not to get close to you again until she knew she had her emotions under control.

Still, she allowed herself to be a bit more flexible when she noticed that her contact was no longer blocked by you. She let her fingers type an honest and heartfelt message about her mistakes, how sorry she was, and her plans to become a better person in the future. You responded with a heart emoji and nothing more. Nevertheless, it relieved the weight on Tara's chest just to know that you didn't hate her as much as she feared.

Tara remained true to the promise she made, a kind of devotion to you and what you represented in her life. She continued her therapy sessions regularly and decided to set aside some of her pride when trying to find new coping mechanisms, even if some of them required the help of others.

Writing remained her favorite, and she had hundreds of pages to prove it. She would be lying if she said you weren't the most mentioned topic in her journals, but over time, she started expanding her writing, and it became common to see her with a small notebook in her bag at all times, ready to express her opinions and feelings when necessary.

But she didn't have the notebook in hand that day. It was Mindy's birthday, and Tara wanted to be 100% dedicated to her friends, actively participating in games, conversations, and any other activity they needed. She knew she had been a bit absent-minded since you moved away, and it made her friends uneasy, not knowing exactly how to deal with the situation and with Tara herself.

But the day was supposed to be happy and carefree, so that's what Tara was going to appear to be.

Or at least, that was the plan until Tara arrived at Mindy's apartment and heard from the birthday girl herself that you would be arriving any moment. From that point on, Tara only remembers feeling her heart almost leap out of her throat and rushing to the bathroom in a failed attempt to prevent hyperventilation.

She sighed again and gripped the sink so tightly that the knuckles of her fingers turned white. She was anxious to see you, but she had no idea how you would react to the encounter. What if you looked at her with distaste? Or if you didn't even want to look her in the face? Tara knew she would deserve that kind of treatment, but it didn't mean it would hurt any less.

Because the truth is, all this time, Tara just wanted you back in her life.

---

Ringing a doorbell should be a simple task, but still, you couldn't help but stand in front of the door, second-guessing before pressing the simple buzzer.

"You know, if you want, we can turn around and leave, but we both know that's not what you want."

You sighed, turning to look at the girl beside you. Kate Bishop had her hands in the jacket pockets and displayed a fond smile on her face, which you imagined was an attempt to make you feel better.

"I hate it when you're right," you scoffed, but both of you knew your indignation was just a joke, having spent enough time together to read each other's reactions like a book.

This wasn't what you expected when you accepted the offer for a year-long study abroad program at Cambridge, but you also couldn't say you weren't satisfied with how things turned out. You didn't even know you needed this change of scenery, but it made sense after everything you had been through. You needed time away from painful memories.

The British air provided a calmness you hadn't felt in a long time, without fear of seeing familiar faces on the streets or places that would remind you of certain memories or people. Of course, good company also played a significant role.

You could hardly believe it when Kate offered to share an apartment with you near the college. She had already done so much for you, being by your side and supporting you throughout your rehabilitation process after last year's attack. You didn't want her to feel obligated to continue taking care of you.

But Kate barely listened to your concerns, saying that she needed to go to other countries to try to expand her company's contacts and that it would be good to have a roommate to share expenses (even though you were pretty sure Kate had enough money to buy three apartments in central London if she wanted to).

It was one of the best decisions you had ever made, and quickly you and Kate fell into such a comfortable rhythm that it felt like you had always lived together. Your relationship even turned romantic for a while, but it only lasted until you both realized that you were better off as friends, which was agreed upon between the two of you.

"Come on, ring that doorbell already! I'm starving!" Kate lightly pushed you, and you rolled your eyes with affection, feeling a bit less tense with your friend's moral support.

"Starving," you laughed and actually pressed the doorbell, taking a few steps back to wait for the moment the door would open. Your hands were trembling, and you felt as though you were about to sweat even though it was quite cold in New York. Of course, you missed your friends, your family, but that wasn't enough to ease your anxiety.

When the door finally opened, you were faced with Mindy Meeks-Martin, with her signature sarcastic smile and her short, curly hair reaching her chin, much longer than the last time you saw her. "Well, well. If it isn't our new European! Do you only speak with an accent now?"

"You're ridiculous." With a smile, you advanced and enveloped Mindy in a long hug that she quickly reciprocated, both feeling the longing emanating through the touch. The contact lasted for a few long seconds until you both untangled yourselves again. "I hope it's not a problem that I brought Kate along..."

"Pfft! Of course not!" Mindy waved her hand, indicating that she didn't mind the newcomer. "It's even better you brought her because I needed to thank her in person for taking care of you." She looked at Kate with a playful smile. "I think we all know our y/n is too kind to be alone in a distant country. She would try to help a stranger on the street and get kidnapped for sure."

"Hey!"

"Wow, have you heard about the time she took the wrong subway, and then..."

"Okay! Enough about my misfortune! Can we go in?" You interrupted Kate, feeling your cheeks flush a bit. Despite being slightly embarrassed, you were still happy that two important people in your life had the potential to get along, and that was all you could ask for.

Mindy made room, and finally, you entered the apartment. It was new, considering the twin and Anika had recently moved in together, and it was sparsely furnished but beautiful and comfortable enough to feel like a home. You and Kate approached, she with her hands on your back as a silent support, and you greeted your friends with enthusiasm and a longing to catch up.

Chad looked stronger than ever, and he seemed excited about both college and his part-time job as an assistant at a gym. Apparently, he got a discount for training and using the equipment and was clearly taking full advantage of it. He and Kate engaged in a conversation about diets, weights, and workouts that you honestly couldn't follow, but you were satisfied to know that they had gotten along well enough to plan to train together someday.

Anika was happy and radiant, making you laugh as she always did. She wore a cropped top, revealing the huge scar forming a line in the center of her stomach, something she seemed to wear with pride. You never expected this reaction from her; on the contrary, you had imagined that she would want to distance herself from the group, out of fear or trauma. Still, it was reassuring to see that she had stayed for Mindy. They were the kind of couple you hoped would last forever.

Sam seemed somewhat lighter since the last time you saw her, as if a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. She was smiling, albeit not very widely, and welcomed you with a warm hug that almost made you cry with relief. Part of you always wondered if Sam was glad with your departure because of... well... your conflicts with her sister, but she seemed so happy with your presence that it was almost embarrassing that you had that thought in the first place.

And then, she came. A pair of bright brown eyes that haunted your sleep without permission. It was unfair how she looked as beautiful as the last time you saw her, as if time worked differently for her, and only for her. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart seemed to beat so fast it was about to explode.

How could it be possible that your entire system changed just by her presence? How was it possible that, with a glance, she could change your heartbeat and make your head spin like a carousel? Maybe she didn't even know she was doing it, but you couldn't comprehend why, even after so many years, your body reacted so instinctively around her.

It was almost humiliating to realize that your efforts seemed to have been in vain. You had gone to another country, met new people, explored new horizons, even had a girlfriend for a brief period. During this year, you had thought so little about Tara that you almost thought you could leave her in the past, that you had overcome your feelings, so pure but so conflicting. All of this, all this effort to come back and realize that you seemed to still be stuck in the same place, like the same foolish girl who would do anything for Tara Carpenter against your better judgment.

You could still hear her screams on that last night you had together when you thought you were going to die, and your biggest concern was that Tara had to leave that room alive. You still remembered the conversation you had before, Tara begging for your forgiveness and saying she loved you multiple times.

Those were memories that left a hole in your chest. You knew Tara had her problems, but you always lost so much when she distanced herself.

She raised her hand in an awkward greeting, and you think you gave a half-smile in response. It was too much. You were still feeling too much, and it drove you crazy. Still, you pretended everything was okay for a few moments, just not to create an uncomfortable atmosphere at the party. You talked to the others, sharing a bit of your experience in England, but your mind always unconsciously turned to Tara, analyzing her reactions and trying to read her thoughts.

Tara was quiet, maybe even quieter than you had ever seen her. You couldn't read her expressions very well, straining to see her only from the corner of your eye, but you could feel her attentive gaze on you, as if nothing in the world was as interesting as you.

Finally, you stopped talking for a while and found an excuse to leave and try to restore some of your sanity. The door to the balcony was open, and even though the view was nothing but New York's industrial buildings, the cold wind on your face helped alleviate some of the nervousness you were feeling.

A gentle touch reached your shoulder, and it was familiar enough for you to recognize the owner. Kate's image appeared by your side as she leaned on the railing, looking directly at your face in deep thought. "So?"

"I thought I had gotten over this. This is ridiculous." You responded with your head down, feeling ashamed to continue in this cycle of liking Tara Carpenter.

Kate shook her head and held your shoulder again, silently asking for your attention. "You can't control these things, you know." A second of silence passed, the faint sounds of the city serving as a soundtrack to your emotional confusion. "If it helps, she spent the whole time looking at you. She seemed... I don't know, regretful, maybe? I don't know her as well as you do."

"I don't even know if I still know her." It was a true confession. Even after everything, even the attacks and the message Tara sent you when you were leaving the country, you still weren't sure if she had the capacity to return to what she was before everything went wrong. You were afraid, and honestly, who could blame you?

While you were away, sometimes you checked your friends' Instagram, just to see what they were up to. Multiple times, the posts contained photos with Tara, and she seemed happy, maybe even lighter. You even wondered if the two of you were just destined to be apart, like a more brutal version of Romeo and Juliet.

"You're not obligated to anything, but don't you need some sort of closure?" Kate advised. "Just to move on, if that's what you really want."

"What do you mean by that?" You retorted defensively.

The blue-eyed girl smiled and shook her head slightly, as if dealing with an irritated child. "I saw how you looked at her when you arrived. I'm not saying you should do anything, especially because I have my doubts if she could really be good for you, but it's clear that you feel something for her that's bigger than you can control."

"Yeah, and that's pathetic."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I understand that your situation is complicated." Kate placed her other hand on your shoulder, now holding you face-to-face with her. "But you know you'll have to face this someday, right? Whatever the conclusion may be."

"Yeah, I know." You sighed, but eventually a smile broke through, lighting up your expression. "When did you become so wise, Bishop? Last time I saw you, you were trying to put aluminum in the microwave."

"Shut up." She grumbled while also having a smile on her face and pulled you into a hug that you didn't even know you needed. That was Kate, a warm person who always gave her best to the people she loved. You couldn't be more grateful to still have her in your life, even though your relationship didn't work out. 

The affectionate moment almost made you forget your conflict. Almost.

Until the reason for all your doubts appeared standing in front of the door, staring directly at you.

_

Tara regretted going after you.

She should have expected, especially since you came to the party with Kate, especially because you spent this whole year living with her. But that didn't mean it hurt any less to see you embraced with her, looking so comfortable that you wouldn't need anything else in this world.

Especially if it was someone known for hurting you and breaking your heart repeatedly.

She stood there, rooted to the ground like an idiot, until you two separated and noticed her presence. When your eyes met, she looked like a deer in the headlights and immediately started stepping back, embarrassed to have been caught like that.

Tara was already planning how to hide from you for the rest of the party when Kate stopped her. "Hey! No need to leave."

The Latina girl halted her route and looked suspiciously at both of you. You didn't seem to understand the situation, just like her, but Kate seemed sure of what she was doing because she continued. "You two need to talk once and for all. No imminent death or text messages, just eye to eye."

"Kate." You called her, grabbing her arm as a form of protest. Tara couldn't help but wince when she noticed how just how much you were against the idea of being alone with her. Not that she could blame you for it.

"Thank me later." That was all the other girl responded, and with a short nod towards Tara, she returned to the living room, leaving two tormented souls by themselves on the balcony.

Tara took a few small steps forward, analyzing what your reaction would be to the proximity. You seemed to be doing your best to ignore her, looking into the distance as if there were something interesting in graffiti-covered billboards and dimly lit lamp posts. She leaned on the railing, trying at least to have a view of your face. "Sorry if I interrupted your intimate moment; I didn't mean to."

You released air through your nose, but Tara couldn't tell if it was a laugh. "You talk as if Kate and I were dating."

"And aren't you?" The younger Carpenter replied, trying to contain some of the excitement she wanted to show. That had been one of the best news she had received in a long time. 

"No, not for a while. I thought you saw it on my Instagram; I unblocked you." You finally looked at her, and Tara could see that you were analyzing her, as if she were a puzzle to be solved.

"Yeah, I stopped checking a while ago. Thought maybe it would bother you."

"And it wouldn't bother me for you to say you love me and not visit me in the hospital once after almost dying in front of you? It wouldn't bother me that the only news I had from you after that was that message before I boarded the plane, since you didn't even bother to show up at the airport?"

Tara felt the anger in your voice, and she accepted each of your frustrations as a penance. God, she would probably accept a punch from you if that would make you feel better. "I had promised myself that I would only get close to you again when I was better, okay? When I sought help and there was no risk of being an idiot with you again. I didn't lie when I said I love you, and it's because I love you that I knew it was better to stay away until I could be a version of myself that would be better for you."

A minute of pure silence passed, and Tara almost thought the conversation would end there until you spoke again. "And did you? Get better, I mean."

She sighed and crossed her arms as if that made her less vulnerable. "I think so. I don't feel as much uncontrolled anger as before; I also don't feel the need to take out my frustrations in drinks or parties. It's been a while since I argued with Sam, and I think that's good for both of us. And my therapist is nice, even though he's old enough to not know what Twitter is." Tara laughed, even though she was full of anxiety bubbling inside her. "But he advised me to write, and that has helped me a lot."

You looked at her with curiosity. "Write? About what?"

"About everything." Tara shrugged, almost as if she were relaxed. "My day-to-day life, college, my friends... you. Writing makes what I feel not stay trapped inside me, so I have no reason to explode. Everyone wins with this, and I must say that my essay grades even increased after that."

A short laugh escaped your lips, and the sound made Tara minimally satisfied with herself. "You write about me?"

"Yeah, actually, most of my journals have something about you. Memories of our childhood or what I feel for you." Tara admitted, feeling her own face blush with embarassment. You didn't seem to notice, or just didn't care, because you continued to look at her very carefully. "But most of it is about things I regret. Things I said, things I did... I'm really sorry."

"I want to believe that. I mean, I believe you, I know you're not lying, but..." You placed your hands on your head and closed your eyes, your elbows resting on the railing. It seemed like you were trying to block your own thoughts. "It's all so complex, and I feel so much... pain."

"I understand. I don't expect you to forgive me, and I'm willing to spend the rest of my life apologizing if necessary." Cautiously, Tara took a few steps towards you. "But if you want me to stay away, just say the words, and I'll go."

You sighed with evident exhaustion. "Of course not, Tara."

She took a few more steps, and now her arm almost touched yours. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... do you still love me? Or do you think you could love me again someday?"

"Of course, I still love you, Tara! Don't you see that's the problem?" You moved away from the railing, raising your voice as the conversation stressed you. "I shouldn't still love you! I shouldn't still want you around! What does that say about me?"

Tara waited a few seconds until you calmed down, keeping the distance between you to avoid making you more irritated. When your breathing started to slow, she continued in a weak voice. "I hurt the person I loved most in this world. What does that say about me?"

You didn't say anything in response. She spoke again. "Why don't we make a deal?"

"A deal? About what?" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your voice.

"Let me prove that I've changed, that I've improved, that I deserve a place in your life again. We can start slowly; I won't force anything and will respect any boundaries you want." The girl pleaded, almost clasping her hands and kneeling at your feet. "And if I do anything, anything at all, that makes you uncomfortable and hurts you, I'll leave you alone forever."

"What's the point of that?"

"To stop this doubt that I know we both have. Stop us from wondering about the 'what ifs' and really put to the test if I've changed. That's what you want, isn't it? To know if there's any chance the old Tara can come back? Well, that's all I want too."

You stared at her, clear doubt and apprehension in your eyes as you thought about the presented arguments. Tara's foot tapped rapidly on the floor, demonstrating her nervousness.

A few seconds passed until you spoke again. "What does this mean for us?"

Tara's expression softened as she understood your caution. It was understandable, your fear. "I don't know, but we can find out together. Do we have a deal?"

A few more seconds, and then, a nod.

"Deal."