#i go back and forth about how much stock to put into any of it

[downthepub]

what is my rising sign again

[pandoraslxna]

could u write a fic where lo’ak is edging the reader so she gets kinda frustrated and storms off so the rest of the day lo’ak is teasing her and making fun of her for getting mad but she gets back at him by edging him so much that he cries🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Want, get, have.

adult Lo‘ak x female metkayina reader

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.

Warnings: explicit smut, edgeplay, Lo‘ak is kinda mean and maybe out of character here, minimal dub/con warning because he’ll get tied up later, p in v, handjob, oral / face sitting, cowgirl position, dirty talk, crying, begging, degradation & praise kink, orgasm denial, obsession, spit kink, switch!Lo‘ak, creampie

Notes: sorry this took forever, I hope you like it 🩵

Na’vi translation:

paskalin = honey

At first, it was a rumour.

To be more specific, it was the kind of rumour that was grounded close enough to reality that he could see it happening, but not so close that a skeptic could take it at face value, no matter how hard Kiri swore it was legit. Because, see, she heard it from Rotxo who'd heard it from your brother Ao’nung and therefore it must be true. There was no real reason to put any stock in this particular story over, but Lo‘ak couldn't help but be curious. He spent days going back and forth on whether or not he should investigate, but after the fifth, "Hey bro, did you hear...?", he knew he wouldn't be able to get any peace of mind if he didn't. And when it turned out to be true, Lo‘ak couldn’t believe his luck.

The spoiled little brat of the olo’eyktan really had a crush on him. Him, of all people.

As the chiefs daughter, you were accustomed to getting what you wanted.

It wasn't even a matter of being selfish… it was just a habit at this point. Want, get, have. You were spoiled, that’s what it was. It wasn't that difficult to get.

And Lo‘ak knew difficult. Even as a son of an olo’eyktan himself, he had to struggle to get where he was. A better portion of his childhood was difficult, growing up in war, always living under his older brothers shadow. An outcast, a four fingered freak, neither really belonging to his own people nor those aliens from another star, and most definitely not to the metkayina clan. No, Lo‘ak was far from being spoiled.

So what was he supposed to do, when you approached him for the very first time, thinking that batting your pretty long lashes was enough for him to fall to your knees like everyone else would’ve? Exactly! Reject you.

The downright confused look on your beautiful, flawless face was more than just priceless to him, as you struggled to understand that for the first time in your life, you were denied to have something that you wanted.

The flower of his mischievous plan blossomed just shortly after, when you came over to his marui in the morning with freshly picked fruit for breakfast. And then again, when your offerings turned a little more… personal.

Sucking him off, down at the shore. Or when you gave him a handjob after coming back from a hunt with your brother Ao’nung. Nothing has ever fed his ego as much as having a sweet thing like you following him around, practically acting as his shadow. Obsessed, that’s what you were. You became obsessed with him, craving for attention from the one thing you couldn’t have.

And Lo‘ak loved it. The more he denied you, the more you wanted him. But the best part of it all was, when you spread your pretty, smooth, cyan legs for him.

"Look at the mess you’ve made", Lo‘ak tsks, stroking his slick covered dick right over the mound of your pussy. "Got my whole cock drenched. You‘re really that desperate, huh?"

Your chest heaves, breathing rapid, and you’re struggling to collect yourself from the intense orgasm that was so harshly ripped away from your grasp, just as it was about to shatter your whole being.

"Lo‘ak, Lo‘ak please–"

A low chuckle vibrates in his chest, as he furiously pumps his cock with one hand, while fumbling your breast with the other.

"Please, Lo’ak, please", he mocks your tone with a fake pout and then pinches your nipple, before he rolls it between his thumb and index finger. He tugs on the sensitive bud, then asks sternly, "Please, what?"

"I need to come", you hiccup, your glassy eyes being a clear indication that you were actually close to sobbing from desperation. "Let me come, please. I- I was so close!"

"No."

Lo‘ak had lost count on how many times this had happened by now. How many times he had you in every possible position; bend over, under him, on top of him, laying, standing, sitting, on your knees… but he had never granted you that sweet release before. Not that he wasn’t able to, oh no. He had you on the verge of crying, eyes rolling back into your skull, with trembling legs and drool running down your chin like a fucked out little doll within minutes. But he made it his personal goal to finish first. Even if that meant for him to pull out of the delicious, wet heat that enveloped his cock, just to fuck his fist instead and spill himself onto your chest, stomach or wherever he preferred.

As unsatisfying as that might be, the sight in front of him made it all worth it. You were a mess. A begging little brat, too spoiled to handle being denied not only of his love and affection, but also of your orgasms. It was perfect.

You were just so adorable, trying to regain your composure on wobbly legs, once you realized that all that begging and pleading wouldn’t get you very far with him. And then when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and stormed off in frustration, it made it all so much better. If that was even possible.

But no matter how insanely mad he was driving you, you just couldn’t stay away from him for long. Not even when Lo’ak so bluntly teased you for your behavior, mocking your pleads, whispering them into your ear as you sat on his lap. Or when he called you spoiled, a brat, his dumb little doll so boldly in front of your friends, not caring for the way your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. It was only a matter of time for that unbearable tension in your core, an almost animalistic urge for release, to melt you from the inside out, and until you were trying to sweet talk your way back into his loincloth, unable to keep your hands to yourself.

Whatever this odd situation was, Lo‘ak was truly enjoying playing with you like this. Maybe even a little too much.

Unbeknownst to him however, you grew more frustrated with every passing day and every orgasm he robbed you of. So much so, that at one point, you just couldn’t help yourself anymore. Enough was enough, you decided.

There’s a pinch to the soft apple of his cheek that makes Lo‘ak stir awake abruptly from the little nap he had decided to take earlier.

He sighs softly. The sun was still shining bright through the leaves of a big palm tree, blinding his eyes. Lifting a hand to shield the sun away, he’s pulled up short by something around his wrists. Immediately, the fog in his mind begins to clear as he tugs on the restraints locking his arms together over his head.

Hearing your lighthearted giggle sends a wave of goosebumps all over his body, and Lo‘ak blinks a few times for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, before he opens them slowly.

Lifting his head to look down on himself, he’s met with the sight of you, cyan skin glistening in the warm sunlight, kneeling between his spread thighs.

"Good morning, sleepyhead", you coo softly, but Lo‘aks ears fold themselves against his head, his eyebrows pulling together in visible confusion. He then pulls against whatever is tied around his wrists again, testing the strength of his restraint. It’s tight and rough on his skin, but it doesn’t hurt. At least not yet. Whatever it is, it feels suspiciously like the woven cord of a fishing net.

They may not have been designed for this, but they still work pretty well and can also withstand a lot of force without tearing- especially like this, tying Lo’ak to a tree, with no real leverage or enough room to move his hands freely or use just an ounce of his actual strength.

And they ensure that you would get the perfect view of Lo‘ak; with his muscular thighs spread wide and his loincloth lazily hanging over his most priced possession. Just one tug on the right string and it would fall off. You couldn’t help taking a moment to appreciate him like this, entirely constrained, leaving him so open and so vulnerable to whatever you would choose to do to him.

"What are you doing?", Lo‘ak huffs out a laugh, but his voice carries more than a hint of nervousness.

Again, you giggle. Scooting closer, you let your hands run over his chest, all the way up to his neck and over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He‘s already so on edge, it makes heat spread in your core.

"You know, I always get what I want, forest boy", you innocently smile up at him, dainty fingers running down over his pecks and to his waist, where his loincloth sits. "And what I want, is you."

Once untied, the neatly woven cloth falls off of him slowly and the omatikaya sucks in a sharp breath. You don’t hesitate to reach out for him, giving his already half hard cock an experimental stroke to feel him stir alive.

"But you’ve been so mean to me, Lo‘ak", you put on a fake pout and then sigh, "You leave me with no choice but to simply take what I want."

Lo‘ak‘s scoff that follows tells you more than enough.

"Oh, yeah? You’re gonna take what you want, like the spoiled little brat that you are? Go on then", he grins, watching you stroke his cock until he was fully hard, standing proud and tall in your palms.

It’s cute, you think. How oblivious he is to the situation he’s in. But by Eywa, you will enjoy every second of it, truly make it up for all the times he didn’t let you come.

Lo‘ak felt the pleasure building in his lower abdomen when your hand tightened just slightly around his cock. You twist your hand on the upward stroke, your thumb teasing the slit on his tip before you let him lazily thrust into your fist, just once.

Fingers sliding over his length and up the underside of his cock, you work him slowly but surely, drawing out a low moan that Lo’ak tried, but failed, to disguise as a curse, before shifting to a faster pace.

It’s no surprise to him how good you are at this. Just thinking about your heavenly handjobs had him rock hard and seeking you out during the most random times a day, thats how damn good they were.

As you let spit pool in your mouth and then dribble onto the mushroom-like tip, Lo’ak throws his head back in bliss at the new sensation, panting fast and heavy through parted lips. Your hands continue to slide down his cock to circle around the base, stroking him firmly.

"Oh fuck, that’s it. Keep going, baby, I’m close already", Lo‘ak mutters under his breath, eyes squeezed shut to focus all of his senses on the pleasure you provide. You feel his cock throb in your palms, clear droplets of pre-cum joining your spit and serving as lubricant to make your strokes become more fluidly.

"J-Just like that", he breathes out, his hips raising up to fuck into your fist, "G-Gonna come, haa– fuck, fuck!"

"Some metkayina men would kill for this, you know", you remark with a mischievous smile, "And you get it for free."

Lo‘ak doesn't respond to that, but that’s okay. You don’t expect him to. His mind is drawing blank and he begins to feel a nervous excitement, a pressure in his ribcage, making it harder for him to breathe properly. Heat boils in his core and his breathing hitches when you move your hand faster, harder.

You watch his hands flex, pulling at the restraining cords around his wrists and his toes curl as he nears the edge of his climax.

"Almost there, Lo‘ak", you coo, "You’re so close aren’t you? Does it feel good, hm? You like that?"

"Yes, yes,– fuck, yes! So good, so fucking good", he moans, before lifting his head up as much as he can to watch you from his current position, already imagining how pretty you will look when he comes, spilling his cum onto your face and chest.

But the sweet bliss he was chasing so desperately was suddenly ripped away from him entirely, when both of your hands leave his cock abruptly. It causes him to gasp like you just stole the very air from his lungs.

"N-No! No, what- what are you doing!?", Lo‘ak curses, his head falling back against the soft sand. "Why did you stop?" His chest heaves and his cock visibly throbs in the air, even more pre-cum leaking from it’s tip now that it’s all swollen and purple, begging for relief.

"And here I thought I was the spoiled one", you say cheerfully, "but look at you. You’re such a mess, and all that just because I didn’t let you get what you wanted…"

Lo‘ak frowns, taking in your words, but then you move as if you’re going to touch him again, and his hips rise towards your hand, instinctively bucking up for the friction he’s been denied.

You giggle at the pathetic sight of him trying to reach your hands, simultaneously struggling against his restraints, before his body falls slack, laying back flat against the sand.

Lo‘ak tries and fails to bite back a small, heartfelt whimper of frustrated need. His cheeks are flushed bright red by now. He really looks cute when he’s frustrated like this, you think to yourself, before you actually reach down and give him a firm tug.

Another moan falls from his lips at the unexpected touch, but it soon turns into more whining when you begin to move your hand in an up and down motion, picking up the same pace where you had left earlier. Lo‘ak slowly begins to squirm underneath your touch, his abs flexing with every stroke of your palms and his thighs twitch. A thin layer of sweat makes his lean body shine in the sunlight, as your restless pace sends his mind into overdrive.

"C-Coming", he forces out between broken whimpers, "m‘coming, m‘coming!"

You feel how he stirs in your palm and right when he’s about to fall apart, you pull your hand away yet again, earning yourself a loud groan of desperation. "What the— f- ah! Fuck", he whines and curses at the loss of another orgasm, squirming when the feeling of euphoria epps away once more.

"I need to come, I really need to come", he nearly sobs when your fist closes around his shaft not shortly after. You’re barely moving now, just teasing the slit of his cock with your thumb, smearing his pre-cum over his most sensitive parts. "Don’t stop now, please. I- I was so close, baby. Please I‘m already begging, I just… Let me come this time." Your fingers ghost over his length before you properly hold him again, hand closing tight around his shaft and his hips jerk up in attempt to help him get there.

"So needy", you whisper, scooting even closer as your hand continues to pump his throbbing length. You’re close enough now that your lips brush over his jawline and he inhales a shaky breath once your face comes close to his. Lo‘aks eyes are half lidded as he stares at you, lips slightly parted before you give him the command, "Open up, pretty boy", to which he dutifully sticks his tongue out and both of your eyes follow the clear droplet of spit fall from your tongue onto his.

Humming in satisfaction, you watch him swallow, groaning at the taste, while you move your hand just a little faster. Call it a little treat for his obedience.

With your other hand now resting on his cheek, you swipe your thumb across Lo‘aks lips, wiping away a stray smear of drool, partly yours and partly his own.

"This is mine", you whisper directly into his ear, tracing the outline of his mouth, and Lo‘ak nods frantically. Kissing away his groan of frustration, you allow him to fuck into your hand for three tantalising, torturous thrusts. His tongue curls around yours, but then you pull away again. "And this", you squeeze his cock tightly, movements haltering and he whimpers, "is mine too, isn’t it?"

Lo‘ak nods for a second time, heavy-lidded and languid and just so desperate in a way he’s never been before.

"And I can do what I want with what’s mine, right?", you tilt your head playfully, amused at the sight of him lifting his head and chasing your lips for another kiss.

"Fuck. Y-Yes!", he whines when all you grant him is a little peck to his bottom lip. "Yes, you can do what you want with me, just please. Please let me come!"

Waiting for his breathing to even out, you finally begin to move your hand again. While you do so, your face nuzzles into his neck, lips tracing his jawline and then moving further up to nibble at the soft shell of his ear. His tail lashes against the ground in anticipation and soon, he’s turned into a moaning mess again. It takes significantly less time to get him close to an orgasm now, you notice. A sharp grin forms on your face as you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him properly.

"So good, feels so good", Lo’ak’s moans are more quiet now, almost a whisper, like he was scared of being caught. But you felt him pulse in your hand, and his breath hitched hard and that’s all you needed to know.

"Wait– No, no, pl-ah! Please!", Lo’aks whole body seized when the warmth of your touch leaves his cock and yet another orgasm was ruined, leaving him a trembling, cursing mess.

"Oh, c’mon", his frustrated groan immediately turns into a heartbreaking whine, once you retreat your hands entirely. Forced to watch you lick your fingertip clean of his pre-cum, he tugs against his restrains, "I- I want to fuck you, mamas, please. Wanna fuck you so bad. Just let me. I‘ll be so good for you, I’ll make you scream, yeah? I know that’s what you want. Just please. Please, please, I prom—"

"Shhh, it’s okay", you coo into his ear, calming him down enough to make him stop resisting his cuffs. "You’re gonna be good for me, yes? Gonna make me come this time?"

"Oh Eywa, yes. Yes, I- I promise", he stutters, the impatience clear in the strain of his voice, "Untie me, c‘mon, baby."

"Untie you? Oh don’t be silly, paskalin." Your giggle alone is enough to make him shudder, as if his body already knew what his mind was still struggling to process, his brows furrowing as he watched you undress.

"But I thought- I thought you wanted me to—"

"Hmh, I know what I said", you cut him off and the smile on your lips is almost too sweet to be true, "And you will make me come this time. I know it, because I’ll make sure it‘ll happen."

And then you rise up, leg slung over his chest to straddle him, and his hazy golden eyes darken with intrigue. Still, he lies motionless, waiting. Sliding closer and rising up on your knees, you smirk as Lo‘ak lifts his head just slightly, licking his lips at the sight, before falling back to the sand with a put-upon groan.

"Watch the teeth, yes?", you tease him, tracing your thumb over his pointy canine to which he rolls his eyes.

"Just- fucking sit down, sit on my face, c‘mon", he groans in response. His hips seem to have a mind on their own, because you feel them raise up and thrust into the air, his cock desperately seeking attention.

Twining a hand into his hair, you then angle his head between your legs and finally sink down over him.

A warm puff of breath, and then his tongue flicks over your folds, a tickling caress. A delicate kiss, and then he sets to work.

The quickly cooling saliva against your hot skin gives a pleasant sensation, and Lo’ak uses his tongue to part your folds. You squirm and pant beneath him, voice cracking as you attempt to voice your approval. He curves his tongue into a point, flicking and kissing at your most sensitive parts and you begin to shake above him, all needy moans and senseless affirmations, hips rocking down to meet his mouth.

Soon enough, you grind against the flat of his tongue, his nose and the upper half of his face like you’re riding a damn pali. The rest of him lies supine, but his tongue and lips move in practiced tandem, his purrs of satisfaction running through you in turn. “Hmm, just like that", you sigh, hand tightening in his braided hair, the other dropping behind you to steady yourself against his chest.

"You’re so damn delicious", Lo‘ak groans underneath you, the vibration of it sending waves of pleasure from your core all the way up your spine, your tail trashing and curling while he slurps up your slick arousal like it’s warm honey. It’s like he’s making out with your clit at one point and you can’t help but hump against his puckered lips. You throw your head back when he begins to suck rather harshly, his spine curving and twisting uncomfortably to meet your needs, but he couldn’t care less in this moment.

Normally he’s all teeth and bite, fangs grazing your skin and nipping on the inside of your thighs, sinking into your soft flesh until glossy, wet bite marks indent. Teasing you whenever you struggled to cover them up, and on some days, gladly taking a fight with Ao’nung once your loincloth moves around too much and your big brothers gaze lands on the faint marks on your inner thigh, claiming you to the forest boy that was playing with you like you’re nothing but a little doll. (Oh, how the table had turned…)

But right now he’s messy, filthy and sloppy and eating you out like he was starving. Flat nose pressed hard against your clit, he switched between tongue-fucking you and lapping at your clit, sucking the little bundle of nerves like he’s aiming to make you pass out.

"Yes, fuck, there– right there!"

Lo‘ak hums in acknowledgement, and then you give a last, sharp cry, hips jerking down against his face as you fall apart on top of him. Between your thighs, you feel him groan and curse and you hear the downright obscene slurping, like he enjoys drowning in your sweet juices. You stay put for as long as your body allows, floating in the endorphin high of the long awaited orgasm you had chased and been denied for weeks now, until your legs begin to tremble and the kitten licks to your clit start to feel a little overwhelming.

Lo‘ak draws in a shuddering breath as soon as he was able to, and it turns into a moan halfway through as your hand was back on his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp as you slowly lift yourself up from his now glistening face. With an equally heaving chest, the both of you look into each others eyes for a moment, panting heavily to catch your breaths.

But while your breathing slowly evens, his seems to turn more rapid. Glancing over your shoulder, your met with a sight that almost makes you feel pity if it wouldn’t look so damn hot.

His cock had leaked so much pre-cum, a small puddle had formed where he laid against his lower stomach, twitching to the rhythm of his heartbeat, the tip an angry color of purple from being edged and then completely ignored, neglected of any touch and further stimulation.

"Please", Lo‘ak heaves in a breathless whisper and you thought there was more to come, but that’s all he seemed to be capable of anymore.

Your orgasm had already drained you to the point that you felt like molten wax, limbs still twitching with the aftershocks, yet you don’t hesitate to scoot back down and straddle his lap with a glint of determination in your eyes.

It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to prepare himself, you line his cock up with your slick entrance and slam yourself down, swallowing all of his length to the base.

"F-Fu-ck", Lo‘ak chokes out, once you sit on him properly, your own body weight and gravity pulling you down further than he thought was even possible, until you were nestled snugly against him, clit kissing his pubic bone. It makes him physically shudder.

"Oh t-thank you! Fuck– thank you. You feel so good, so good", Lo‘ak wheezes, and his cock throbs vividly inside you.

Instead of a verbal response, you decide to let your body do all the talking now. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, you’re moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Lo‘aks cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you’re slamming your whole body back down, turning yourself into an equally moaning and whimpering mess.

Below you, Lo‘ak‘s eyes are squeezed shut and his toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again. But even closed, you can clearly see the tears soaking his lashes. He’s so close that it hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain. One, he hopes will finally grant him the orgasm he’s been clinging to like his life depended on it.

"Look", you then tell him. Like the good boy that he was, he slowly forced his eyes open, before you grab his chin with your thumb and index finger and direct his gaze to where your pussy greedily swallows him, stretched around his girth like a little sleeve made just for him to use.

"I am- Fuck! I am looking", he sobs, "You’re g-gonna make me come— please don’t stop! Please!"

Lo‘ak wants to jerk up into you so badly. He wants to break free, flip you over and pound into you, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into you. He wants to make you cry out his name, scream it for the whole village to hear, so everyone would know that the chief’s spoiled little brat was currently getting all her holes stuffed full to the brim by the outcast.

The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans and whimpers, moans so shamelessly loud, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer, that it made even himself blush.

He’s close, you could feel it. You hear it in the strain of his voice as he whimpers whatever incoherent stuff comes to his fucked out and fried brain by now.

But you’re close too. And by the great mother if you don’t make this a challenge into coming before he does, just to get your payback…

Making your hips come to an abrupt halt, you stay down against his pelvis, only rotating your hips in circles now, while switching the direction randomly.

"Oh eywa, please", he cries out", Please you– you- I can’t. I can’t take it anymore! Need to come, please move!"

But you continue to grind yourself against him, and Lo’ak feels your cunt pulse, but it’s not nearly enough. With your clit dragging against his skin, you slump forward against his chest and your whole body goes rigid with a shuddering gasp.

Lo‘ak is shuddering, broken sobs and whimpers leaving his parted lips as he begs for you to keep moving, his hips raising up and chasing the friction of your thrusts to return to him. It’s damn near torture- feeling your warm, velvety-like walls squeeze his cock, while you stay completely unmoving on top of him, coming undone without a care for him and his needs.

"C-Coming, I’m coming!", you moan into his ear, your arms encircling his neck and hold him tight as you shamelessly use him to make yourself finish.

And that’s it.

The friction alone and your barely there movements are hardly enough, would normally get him nowhere close, but as sensitive as he was right now they’re enough to make his whole body spam as he finally, finally, thank eywa, comes.

His cock is still buried deep inside your rhythmically-pulsing cunt, pumping rope after rope of his cum inside you as he sobs into the coock of your neck. Soft whimpers of thank you, thank you, thank you are muffled against your skin and it feels like forever and he’s still coming.

"That’s it, just like that. Hmm, m'feeling so warm inside", you coo softly into his ear, your voice laced with a giggle as you feel his cum seep out of your slick entrance, "You’re coming so much. What a good boy you are, filling me up like that. There you go, paskalin, don’t hold back."

You’re not entirely sure Lo‘ak even hears you by that point, but you still keep up the reassurance anyway as you carry on, determined to milk him dry. Your pelvis flexes and your walls seem to massage his cock, squeezing him empty to the last drop until another sob breaks free and tears roll down his face.

Allowing him a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, your soft hands run up and down his chest and then a sigh of incredible relief leaves his lips. It’s enough of a go-ahead for you to finally move, much to his disappointment.

Lo‘aks brows are furrows together lightly, watching with parted lips as his cock slips out of you in the process of getting up and rearranging your clothes. His tail sways lazily, softly tapping against the sand while he patiently waits for you to untie him.

It takes him a moment longer than he would like to admit, before he realizes that this is not happening the way he thought it would.

Reaching for his loincloth, you toss the piece of fabric and also his knife in its sheath next to him. Just barely near enough that he could reach it. Then, and with the biggest, smuggest grin on your face, you untie just one of his wrists.

"You can set yourself free, right?", you ask, but both of you know that’s it’s meant rhetorically. Regardless, your words don’t help ease the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way he looks at you like a lost puppy, utterly confused. His mind was seemingly struggling to understand what was happening, still dizzy from the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. It was no surprise to neither of you, that he was a little short of words as he laid there, limp and spent.

Still, you shoot him a playful wink, before turning on your heels to return to the village, leaving him there like a used toy. Looking back over your shoulder one last time, you wave at him and giggle,

"See you later, my spoiled little brat."

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 9 || The Professor and His Student

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.9k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——WITHIN THRITY MINUTES, you're back in Gojo's company. Shoko wasn't home when you got to your apartment so there was no one for you to rant to and you were left still pissed off because of Gojo.

Actually, even if Shoko was home, it's not like she knows anything about the list. And you're not sure if you even want her to know anything about the list. It'd be too embarrassing to explain to her how you got yourself in this position so, you really have no plans on doing so.

The most your roommate knows is that last night you went out on a date. She doesn't know that it's Geto you went on a date with, or that you've slept with both of her friends and you'd like to keep it that way for the time being. There's way too much to explain for you to talk to her.

So ultimately, that leaves you alone in your situation. You have no one to talk to about this, no one to cry to about how Gojo is nothing more than a manipulative dickhead, and no one to release the buildup of emotions he's just given you.

The worst part of it all is that you were starting to put the blackmailing aside. You were starting to even like the idea of playing this little game with Gojo where you have to sleep with some hot guys and get paid for it. But when Gojo reminds you that you don't have the luxury of being comfortable in your situation, you just go right back to disliking him.

When the man showed up at your door to take you with him to his class, you barely exchanged any words. Gojo carefully explained the things his professor was attracted to, saying how he seemed like the kinda guy to be into a woman who looks like she needs help but is actually smart.

You asked Gojo what kinda clothes you should wear, resulting in you wearing a short skirt with stockings that hugged your thighs nicely. You felt a little uncomfortable in it, especially with Gojo's eyes all over you as if he you and him didn't just argue with one another minutes ago.

"Stop staring, you don't have that privilege anymore." You spat out to him as you adjusted the buttons on the shirt you wore.

Gojo's at your room door, leaning against the frame like always. "Come stop me from staring." He blurts out.

He's so used to flirting with you that he couldn't even help himself.

You send him a glare, "You're making things worse, y'know."

He knows. But he doesn't know how to fix it and still get what he wants at the same time. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't." You say simply.

Gojo falls quiet, watching as you move away from the mirror and over to your dresser to spray perfume on yourself. The scent makes its way into his nose and he has to bite back the compliment he nearly gives you.

After that, you put some shoes on and walked over to Gojo, looking up at the man with distaste in your eyes. For a minute, he simply peers down at you.

"...Can you please move?" You sigh tiredly.

Gojo doesn't budge. "Can you hear me out for a minute?"

You can't even believe the audacity of this man. "No."

"Please?"

"What is there to hear out? If I don't do this, you'll expose me. What else is there for you to say?" You ask.

He doesn't even know the answer to that question himself. "It's not what you think it is," Gojo says in the softest voice he can manage.

"Yeah?" You scoff, moving to fold your arms at him. "So what is it then, Gojo?"

"I just..." He trails off for a long moment.

You watch as he glances back and forth between your eyes, clearly having no words for you. You can see the clear regret in his eyes but you ignore it completely-- refusing to let yourself be manipulated by any of his looks.

Slowly, you lean closer to him. "You just what? Spit it out." You urge.

He swallows but remains silent, which leads you to roll your eyes at him. You then shake your head and move him to the side, stepping past him and exiting your bedroom.

"That's what the hell I thought. Now let's go." You say with a sigh.

Gojo's behind you cursing at himself for being unable to tell you the truth.

He's so scared that you'll never help him without the blackmail and, well, he has every right to be because you're pretty sure that if it weren't for those videos he has over your head, you wouldn't be doing any of this.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The walk to his class isn't long once the two of you get onto campus. It was on the third floor, in a section of the school you don't typically go down. You're not sure if you imagine it but you swear that every person you pass in the halls is insanely attractive.

The men, the women, literally all of them. For a moment you wonder if you're in the fashion department of your school based on the looks of those around you. It makes you wonder what Gojo's major is for a second, realizing you never actually asked him.

Your lips part to do so but... what's the point? You no longer care about getting to know the man anymore. Knowing his major won't help you complete this list any faster so, you end up closing your mouth and keeping quiet as you follow him.

When you get to the class, you notice that most of the room is full and Gojo is within the last group of people to arrive.

You're behind the white-haired man so, his professor lays eyes on him before you. You try to appear as inconspicuous as possible and thanks to the department of attractive and well-put-together people surrounding you, you don't stand out much.

Gojo makes a left to head up the stairs toward, what you assume to be, his seat, and you make sudden and direct eye contact with a tall, overly muscular man you swear isn't the professor.

Oh, there's no way in hell that this dark-haired man with a scar on the right corner of his lips is teaching this class. You refuse to believe that the man standing not too far away from you in a button up shirt that looks like it's seconds away from popping off him, is the damn professor.

Surely, you'd expected the blond man you saw in those pictures Gojo showed you to be a teacher. Definitely not this guy.

Those brown, maybe green, eyes of his skim over your entire body in one quick motion, an eyebrow raising the very second he realizes he's never seen you in his class before. In your hands are a binder and a book that you keep pressed against your chest, slightly fidgeting where you stand with the male's eyes all over you.

You wonder if you should say anything but when the large man looks back down at the papers scattered on his desk in front of him, you get the idea that he doesn't care too much about you being there.

With a sigh, you turn and follow after Gojo, quickly arriving at his seat and sitting beside him. Luckily for you, he's in the very back of the room so you get to sit in the corner with him.

You hadn't planned on learning anything today but, here you are, having no idea what you're getting yourself into.

"Gojo," You whisper and he turns to you. "What subject even is this...?"

"Uh, economics." He hums.

You freeze. "You're joking right?"

"I'm not."

"How the hell am I supposed to explain why I'm here?!" You whisper shout at him.

He shrugs casually, "I dunno."

You scowl. "Of course you don't."

Gojo grimaces at himself for his words, "Okay, well maybe-"

"Nope, save it. I'll figure it out myself." You cut off as you organize the few items you brought with you.

He sighs heavily beside you but you ignore the sound.

The class is steady to begin and your heart increases tenfold in nervousness when the deep baritone voice of the professor hits your ears. It was nothing but a lazy 'afternoon everyone' to greet his students as he went to shut the door but for some reason, it made your nerves spike.

As the professor, whose name you end up figuring out is Mr. Fushiguro, began his lecture, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The room was filled with students who so obviously belonged there. You, a psychology major, genuinely have no excuse to be here right now.

Okay, sure, you may have taken an economics class in high school but, that was high school and it was a required course for you at the time. Now, it'll be a bit difficult to explain why you're there.

Luckily for you, you've been in a similar position before. Except, the last time you were in a situation like this, there were real reasons behind it. You had slipped into one of Shoko's classes and attended that class with her for about three weeks straight-- having needed to use the interactions of her class for a report you were working on.

So in this case, you hope you'll be able to do the same thing and pull this off.

With that in mind, you made sure to actually pay attention to the lecture to ensure that you had something to talk about if or when Mr. Fushiguro questions you.

As you did that, Gojo sat beside you unable to pay attention to anything aside from the woman attentively taking notes beside him. He couldn't help but stare at you with his cheek resting against his knuckles, watching the way you were taking real notes on the class.

He gazed at the side of your face, getting lost in his mind as he tried to think of ways to fix things. He wondered if the two of you could just brush over the argument. It's not like he didn't blackmail you before and you guys didn't move on from that.

Or maybe it was just him who'd moved on. Perhaps you're still worried about the situation you were in. It'd only been a few days since it started, not even a full week yet.

Gojo's so busy thinking that he hasn't realized he's still staring at you. When he does realize it though, he doesn't stop. Instead, the male goes on to admire you. This is probably one of the only times he'll get to be near you going forward.

I hate you, the words still echo in his mind. He's so pissed at himself for it. He should've never even done this. Maybe he could've found someone else to go and seduce these people for him, not you-- Gojo likes you.

Wait, he... likes you? Gojo blinks at his own thoughts, wondering if that's what's wrong with him. Maybe that's why he felt these urges to kiss you or be around you or even make you smile and laugh...

He finds himself replaying the events of that morning over and over. It was perfect. To wake up to you kissing him so softly, to have you in his arms all night, and to even bond a little with you without it being about the list.

It was-

"Gojo," You hummed, breaking him out of his mind entirely. Your gaze was down on the paper in front of you as you spoke, "Do you like your eyes?"

His brows pinch together and you hear him scoff a little bit, "Yeah...?"

"Wanna keep 'em?" You question sarcastically.

He blinks, "Uh, yes...?"

You turn your head to him and your voice is low and an agitated whisper, "Then stop fucking staring at me."

Gojo doesn't even look away yet. His eyes remain on yours and the eye contact is intense for a second. He hates to think about it but, you're rather hot when you're mad, as toxic as it is to think about...

The way you're eyes are all narrow and the tenseness of your face is oddly attractive to the man. Under different circumstances, Gojo would've teased you about it like he normally does but, right now, you look like you might stab his eyes out with the pencil in your hands.

Instead of taking the warning you have him seriously, Gojo only grins at you, "Make me." He whispers back, voice teasing.

You glare for a moment, and then you start shaking your head in utter disbelief. "You're an ass."

"An ass?" Gojo chuckles quietly, "What happened to asshole?"

"I might change it to a piece of shit." You say with a shrug as you turn your head away and multi-focus on both him and the lecture.

Gojo tilts his head, "Doesn't that take too long to say?"

"Dickhead." You say simply.

He frowns, "Ehh, doesn't have a nice ring to it."

With a sigh, you glance at him through the corner of your eye, "I'm not gonna play this little game with you."

"Nono, keep going," Gojo pleads, now smiling at you as if he isn't aware that he's only annoying you even more. "I like hearing all the mean names you can come up with."

You roll your eyes at him, "I hope you fail this class."

"Woahh, I need this class to graduate, sweets." He argues, pouting a little bit at your sudden words.

"Enough with the pet names," You sigh. "Hearing anything affectionate coming from you is revolting."

"You liked it this morning."

"That was before you pissed me off."

Gojo smirks, "I do that quite often though, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do."

He hums and inches a little closer to you, "And yet you still hung around me."

"I was forced to." You reply, trying to take notes on the subject ahead at the same time.

"Were you forced to kiss me this morning too?" Gojo says.

That question made you scoff. He definitely pushed all the right buttons with that one, "Were you forced to be born as an insufferable asshole who likes manipulating women into clearing your debt for you?" You question, anger embedded into your tone.

He pauses. The worst part of what you said was that you weren't even looking at him. You said that without batting an eyelash. And it came out your mouth faster than he expected.

Gojo opens his mouth slowly, almost carefully, "I-"

Before he gets the chance to say anything, the abrupt sound of his professor speaking louder is heard. "Gojo Satoru," The professor calls out with an annoyed sigh.

You think you see the hairs on the back of Gojo's neck stand up and you watch as he grits his teeth and turns his head to face his teacher.

"Plan on talkin' through my whole class?" Mr. Fushiguro questions.

Gojo looks immediately annoyed as he shakes his head, the sight of him shut up so quickly almost satisfying to you.

That earns a nod from his professor, "That's what I thought." He hummed, his eyes snapping over to you right afterward.

You swear you were shrinking under the man's gaze, even though he was on the other side of the damn room. It was so intimidating that you just knew he was about to say something to you.

But, he doesn't. It was nothing more than a quick glance, maybe even a warning glance.

You sigh and then peek over to Gojo beside you, noticing how he looks upset now. A smile graces your face as you see the man in distress, it was quite the satisfying sight to behold-- especially given the hell he's putting you through.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The lecture was a full three hours long, something you surprisingly were able to stay awake for and focus on the entire time.

You have a feeling it was the way Mr. Fushiguro taught the class or maybe it was the way he looks. With a face and body like that, you think you could stay awake and stare for hours unprovoked. That has to be the only plus side to the list you're going through-- the fact that everyone is stupidly hot.

As the class finished, you grabbed all the notes you'd taken and wondered if you should just approach the professor yourself. Gojo waited for you to get your stuff together and then you followed behind him to leave the class.

The halls seemed to be pretty busy with how long it took for students to actually leave the classroom and you ended up waiting for people to walk out. This placed you in the back of the group of people, being one of the last to actually exit.

"You," A deep voice suddenly called from behind.

Your head turns back and you meet the professor's stern eyes. He raises two fingers and beckons you to come to him. With a swallow, you nudged Gojo on the back of his arm, silently letting him know that you were staying behind before you turned and made your way over to the teacher.

As you approached the desk, the man stool on the other side of it, eyes daunting and presence overwhelming. He was far too attractive to be a professor.

"Sir," You greeted calmly, "You called me...?"

His eyes scan all of you in front of his desk. Not in a way that seemed like he was checking you out but, more in the sense that he was confirming he's never seen you before.

He nodded toward a nearby seat, "Sit."

You don't know why your spine goes rigid at his sudden command. Perhaps it was the authority in his voice? Or the deep undeniably attractive tone of it?

Slowly, you move to sit down in the seat he's told you to. After that, you quietly watch as he awaits all the students to leave. Once the classroom is clear, the professor takes a seat at his desk and all of his tension-filled focus goes to you.

You were nervous. Ridiculously so.

And it wasn't even because of the situation itself but because of the sexy-ass man staring at you. Okay, maybe this list isn't that bad... especially if you get to interact with people you normally wouldn't.

The man leans forward, moving to rest his arms on the desk in front of him and clasping his hands together. "Well?" He asks, clearly expecting you to just explain yourself.

You instantly look down to your lap, "Uh..."

When you take too long, in his eyes, to answer, you hear the man sigh heavily. "You gonna tell me why you're in my class?" He questions.

You look up at him and take a deep breath, "Yeah, sorry. I'm a uh, psychology major and I have this project coming up soon where I have to analyze large groups of people, preferably in different classrooms, to see how different goals and aspirations differ the actions of people."

That was by far the best and cleanest lie you think you've ever given in your entire life. It's usually not hard to explain just a little bit of your major to people, the explanation alone always brings confusion.

The man blinks slowly, kinda like he didn't understand what the hell you just said. "Okay." He sighs, "Two things. One, what does that have to do with you being here without permission, and two, can you explain that in simpler terms?"

A light smile grows on your face, "Well, I meant to come here before the class started and ask if I could sit through a couple of your lectures to study everyone but uh, I forgot... A-And, in simpler terms, I'm just here to see how certain subjects affect certain people."

Mr. Fushiguro nods his head, pausing to think about what you just told him. He has no reason not to believe you, he's actually had plenty of students do this in the past.

"Psych major, huh?" He asks.

"Yes sir."

"That's uh," He clicks his tongue, "Surprising."

"How so?" You scoff, quick to take a bit of offense.

The man shrugs, "I don't usually get Psych majors in my class, you're the first."

"Oh." You chuckle, "Well, I was also curious about how the economy specifically would alter people's way of thinking."

"Yeah?" You think you see him grinning at you. He appears to be intrigued, "Why?"

"I mean, when you're talking about the economy, you're talking about money and, well," You shrug, "Who doesn't like money? I just wanted to see if that made any difference in the way people think and act in terms of education."

"Right," He nods again, "And what class is this for?"

Shit. "Uhm, sociology." You manage to say.

The male opens his mouth to comment something but he's cut off by a light knock on his open classroom door, prompting both of you to turn your head. Your eyes go wide at the man you see standing there.

Blond, tall, neutral facial expression, and, above all, mouth-wateringly sexy. Good god, where the hell does Gojo find these men? The male at the door is someone you recognize from the pictures.

"Mr. Fushiguro," The blond calls, voice stoic.

"Nanami." The professor in front of you replies, "How can I help ya?"

The man at the door takes a few steps into the classroom, "I had a few questions on the assignment from last week."

Your mind is all over the place at this point. Is this who Gojo was talking about when he said there are two people on the list in the class?

"I might have a few answers," Mr. Fushiguro, whose first name you notice is Toji based on the nearby nameplate sitting on his desk, responds playfully.

You then watch as he stands and walks over to Nanami, your heart spiraling out of control. Spotting two people from the list in one day? It's nerve-wracking.

The two stand not too far away from you and quietly go over something. You pick up on tidbits of their conversation but it's all about an assignment you know nothing about so, there's not much you can do with the information you hear.

Nanami's glance strays over to you for only a second, long enough for you two to make eye contact, and long enough for him to look away. It was a glance of simply acknowledging the fact that you're there-- not even the kinda glance where he's checking you out.

The look he gave you and the one you initially received from Toji are similar, it's like neither of them was even interested in you-

Holy shit.

You think you know why too. The way they look at you is nothing compared to Geto's first glances at you, even though the situation and setting are much different.

That's when you realize...

That asshole Gojo never told you what level of difficulty these men are considered to be.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[bosbas]

Chapter 12: did you wish you'd put up more of a fight?

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 4.1k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, mutual pining, physical altercation (nothing serious but a few mentions of blood), mentions of sex if you squint, benedict being so so stupid

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: guys idk anything about physical fights sorry if this is super unrealistic LMAO

August 12, 1814 - But, dear reader, I cannot fail to mention the upcoming gathering hosted by the Bridgertons at Aubrey Hall. Those lucky enough to receive an invitation are surely busy preparing for the eventful trip ahead. Every year, the Bridgerton country party proves to be an excellent hunting ground for ambitious mamas with daughters of marriageable age. Will this year's party bring forth new proposals? Whispers around the ton indicate that a certain Bridgerton brother might propose to Miss Y/N Beaumont, and that would certainly be the news of the season. Fear not, for this author shall keep the ton abreast of any and all developments.

"I beg your pardon?" he spoke, tone low and venomous as he breathed heavily. "What the bloody hell did you just say?"

Benedict saw you exchange a nervous glance with his older brother and his blood boiled at the sight. It was him you should be exchanging glances with. Not Anthony, of all people. He could hardly believe it. In fact, he didn't believe it at all. This had to be some sick joke, some cruel prank that you and his brothers and perhaps even your brothers had all been in on to rag on him for disappearing to the countryside for a month and a half. He desperately wanted you to burst out laughing and start making fun of him for believing that you and Anthony were to get married. But as the seconds ticked by, it became more and more unlikely that this was the case.

Interrupting your prolonged eye contact with Anthony, you looked down at your hands anxiously. This was not how it was supposed to go. There was no nature walk, no time alone with Ben, just an angry Benedict standing at the door to Anthony's study, waves of fury rolling off of him. A small part of you had hoped he would be angry, yes, but now that you were seeing him, unmoving, you wanted nothing more than to disappear from the room. You wished Ben had come ten minutes earlier, where you would have greeted him with a hug instead, feeling his strong arms make themselves at home as they wrapped around you. Benedict was not often angry, especially not at you, but when he was, he usually voiced his displeasure quite loudly to anyone who would listen. However, knowing he was standing there, stock-still and seething, you weren't quite sure how he was going to react.

"How much of that did you hear, exactly?" you asked meekly, trying to gauge how much damage control you would have to do. You kept your gaze firmly on your hands, unable to meet his eyes and slightly fearful of his silent anger.

"Enough to know that my brother is the man you're marrying," Benedict responded, sounding angrier than he was when he first walked in, if that was possible. "I see it's been quite a productive season," he added in a clipped tone.

Your head snapped up at his last comment. You felt Anthony tense beside you as he felt your anger rising, but you didn't care. How dare Benedict blame you for finding a husband after he so unceremoniously walked away from you? Meeting Ben's intense gaze and flinching as you practically felt the daggers shooting from his eyes, you yelled back, "What did you expect, Benedict? You walked away from me and I did exactly what you wanted me to do. I found a husband. I don't know what more you want from me."

Try as you might to keep your voice strong, a wobble at the end had betrayed your true feelings. You had sounded more pleading than anything, but you were beyond caring. You were absolutely crushed, and you could see that Benedict was hurting as well. After years of looking into his eyes, you could recognize that he, too, was hiding sorrow behind his anger. Trying to remain composed, you bit the inside of your cheek as you felt Anthony reach over and place a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"I didn't–" started Benedict, unable to continue once he saw Anthony's hand on you. It was true, then. The courtship. Or the proposal. Or whatever else you two had been doing while he was in the countryside five seconds away from tearing his hair out in desperation because he loved you so much. Suddenly, it was difficult to remember why exactly he hadn't wanted to marry you. Marrying you couldn't have been worse than what he was feeling right now, the devastating realization of having truly lost you. Surely nothing could be worse than this.

Carrying the unspeakable grief that came with losing one's best friend and soulmate all in one evening, Benedict turned around to walk out of Anthony's office. He couldn't bear to be there any longer, watching the woman he loved be caressed by his brother. Without a second glance at the two of you, he closed the door behind him and made his way to his own room. He would have been better off going there in the first place, he thought. Then he could've had a few more moments of peace before he found out what you and Anthony had been up to in his absence.

Looking at the closed door, Anthony's hand dropped from your shoulder as he stood in shock at what had just happened. "Are you alright?" he asked you, knowing the answer but needing to reassure you anyway.

You shook your head, holding in tears that were threatening to spill. "Someone should go after him," you said pressing your fingers to the corner of your eyes. What you really meant was, you should go after him, Anthony, but you wanted to give him a chance to say no. To decide he wasn't going to clean up yet another mess you had made because of your stupid feelings for his brother.

But Anthony, ever the eldest child, nodded in agreement. "Just stay put for a bit while I get him into his room. I don't think it would be the best idea to have the two of you talk right now."

Aubrey Hall had already seen too much chaos today without what he expected was going to be a shouting match between you and Benedict. If only the shouting match could lead to the two of you realizing that you did, in fact, love each other very much and that you would, in fact, be very happily married. He gave you one last squeeze on the shoulder and took off determinedly to find his brother.

Benedict saw Anthony catching up to him out of the corner of his eye but didn't stop or slow down. He couldn't bear to stop now, he needed to get to his room. Or really anywhere that was stripped of every trace of you. Benedict could barely think, the moment when Anthony placed his hand on your shoulder replaying relentlessly through his mind and preventing him from thinking about anything else.

Feeling Anthony stop right behind him, Benedict turned around to face him. The two brothers stood, staring at each other, for several moments. Anthony trying to think of what to say and Benedict getting angrier by the second.

"If you had–" started Anthony, only to be cut off by Benedict immediately.

"How could you do this?" Ben shouted, voice raw from holding back the string of curses he wanted to direct at Anthony right now. Anthony bit his lip, grimacing. He knew Benedict would be mad, but he had been unprepared for the magnitude of his fury. In a way, he felt bad for Ben. Anthony could tell that you were the love of Benedict's life—it was ridiculously obvious—and it couldn't have been easy to see you with someone else. But enough was enough, and Anthony had seen you heartbroken for long enough to know that Ben had only brought this upon himself.

"Might I remind you that you left, Benedict? After she asked you to marry her, no less," shot back Anthony, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He could see Ben waver at his words, face blanching slightly at the realization that you had told Anthony about your quasi-proposal.

"And you think you're better than me? Anyone with half a brain knows you don't want to marry for love. Did that change in the last four weeks? Are you now suddenly unequivocally in love with her? Is that what happened?" asked Benedict, an unfathomable bitterness on his tongue. His words were mocking, but deep down he did want answers. Did you and Anthony really fall for each other while he was gone? Had he been that foolish, to ever imagine the possibility of having something beyond friendship with you when his older brother was right there?

Anthony rolled his eyes, "Come off it, Benedict. You can't play the victim every time. She's aware that I don't want to marry for love. After some very negative experiences with the men of the ton, you included, she's decided she is perfectly fine not marrying for love either." Seeing Benedict's brow furrow in protest, Anthony continued, "Honestly, I promise I didn't force her into anything, I only gave her the option. She decided all by herself that this was what she wanted. And if you'd stop being a prick for about two seconds you'd realize this is what's best for her, anyway. That I'm what's best for her." And sure, Anthony knew he had probably gone too far with his last comment, but Benedict was being incredibly frustrating at the minute that Anthony didn't care.

However, Benedict didn't want to stop being a prick for two seconds. Especially because you were about to get engaged to his brother, who was being a massive dick right now. So instead, he chose to give into his anger, pushing against Anthony's shoulders so he was knocked against the wall.

"That you're what's best for her?" he scoffed. "I've been best friends with her for two decades but suddenly you're the one who knows exactly what she needs? Seems quite logical," finished Ben, pure poison dripping from his voice.

Undeterred, Anthony pushed Benedict back. "What is so wrong about our courtship? You left her so she could find a husband and that's exactly. What. She. Did," he yelled, accentuating every word with a shove at Ben's shoulders, who responded by swatting his hands away.

"She was off limits, Anthony. You knew that! You never should've done that," cried Benedict, grabbing his brother by the collar, and growing more frustrated by the second. However, whether he was angrier at Anthony or himself was unclear.

Exasperated, the elder Bridgerton reached over to slap the side of Benedict's head. "Off limits? Why would she be off limits? She seemed pretty on limits when you said you couldn't marry her and fucked off to the countryside for half the season," came his response.

"Because she is my best friend," Benedict roared back. Hearing Anthony's mocking laugh brought out a level of anger Ben did not know existed within himself, and he found his fist flying to make contact with Anthony's mouth. Ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue, Anthony responded by kneeing Benedict in the groin until he doubled over and slammed the fist that had just hit him into the wall.

Ben cradled his hand against his side, wincing as he saw his grazed knuckles, but he was unrelenting. It was like all of the pent-up emotions of frustration and uselessness he had been feeling in the countryside were finally bubbling over now that he had someone to direct his anger toward. "Because she is my best friend and you know that I'm in love with her. I know you know, Anthony, you cannot pretend otherwise," he said, desperation evident in his voice.

Fairly done with the conversation and itching to go sort out his busted lip, Anthony tried to straighten out his collar as he spoke to Benedict, "Well, even if you are, it doesn't do her much good if you have no intention of marrying her, does it?"

Benedict was stunned to silence. Anthony was right, of course, but Ben couldn't find it in himself to concede to the man who was going to take away Benedict's best friend and the love of his life all in one go. So he just stared at his brother, breathing heavily and searching for words that would not give away just how destroyed he truly felt.

"I am proposing to her in a week. You have until then to fix this, otherwise, you will truly have lost her forever." And with that, Anthony walked off without a second glance, leaving Benedict to grapple with his thoughts.

Walking upstairs in search of something to stop the bleeding at his lip, Anthony couldn't believe that Benedict had admitted his feelings for you. The intensity of the argument between the two brothers had most likely been the catalyst for the confession, but Anthony hoped that this might be what allowed Ben to finally see right by you and love you the way he so obviously wanted to. Regardless, Anthony couldn't help the protective instinct that surged within him. He cared about you, and he was acutely aware of the heartbreak that awaited you if his brother didn't come to his senses.

Too caught up in his thoughts, Anthony missed your presence entirely as he made his way past your room. "Anthony, your lip!" you exclaimed as you closed your bedroom door behind you, bringing him out of his musings. He touched his hand to his injury, hissing in pain slightly as he was reminded of the blood coming out of his cut lip.

He waved his hand dismissively, "It's alright, just a scrape," he assured you.

You seemed doubtful but nodded anyway. "I was going to ask how your talk with him went but I think I have a very clear idea," you said, earning you a short laugh from Anthony.

He cleared his throat, looking at you up and down with a mix of concern and determination. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, charged with the aftermath of the confrontation with Benedict.

"Look, I gave you my word, and a gentleman's word is his bond. I fully intend to honor our agreement," Anthony began, his tone steady and resolute. "But, I also think it's crucial for both you and Benedict to have a conversation, to sort out feelings on both sides."

You looked at him nervously, not ready to confront your feelings for Benedict, let alone any that Benedict might have for you.

He gave you an encouraging smile. "If you decide you still want to marry me afterward, that's perfectly alright, and I'd be delighted to do so. But I think it's only fair that you both have a chance to speak your minds before we move forward." He met your eyes, sincerity evident in his gaze. "Talk to Benedict. I think he went to his studio. I'll give you both the time you need."

You knew he was right, unfortunately. So you nodded, giving him a grateful hug before he excused himself to go clean up his injury and you headed down the stairs to go look for Benedict.

---

In the solitude of his studio, Benedict wrestled with a storm of emotions he was feeling as he paced the room. He couldn't believe that he was going to lose you to his brother. Even if you and Anthony were not in love with each other now, it was only a matter of time, he reasoned. You were, at the very least, the most extraordinary woman he had ever encountered, and surely Anthony would see it that way eventually. Especially if the two of you had children. His heart dropped at the thought of you and Anthony in bed together, but he pushed the image away once he heard a knock on his studio door.

Seeing your face poke into the room, he couldn't help the butterflies that erupted in his stomach, even despite his tumultuous thoughts. "Well, hello," he greeted you curtly, lifting his hand to run his fingers through his hair nervously, knowing a difficult conversation awaited him.

But you gasped before you could respond, immediately distracted by his bloodied knuckles. "Benedict, what on earth...?" you trailed off as you rushed to grab his injured hand in both of yours.

Benedict's breath caught in his throat as he felt your hands on his. The tenderness with which you turned over his hand made a previously dormant warmth rise in his chest, and he bit his lip to keep from shivering. You looked so beautiful, face pinched in focus as you ran your finger over his injury, and he inhaled sharply as your finger traced over his open wound.

"So this is what you and Anthony were doing instead of talking, then?" you scolded, looking into his eyes but not letting go of his hand. It didn't matter that you were still furious with him, it felt too good to have the heavy weight of his fingers half-intertwined with yours after so long of having him away.

"It's nothing," Benedict responded, shaking his head. Then, remembering why his knuckles were grazed in the first place, he added bitterly, "Why don't you go check on Anthony instead?"

Your face fell immediately and you dropped his hand. He hadn't meant to upset you, and he certainly hadn't meant to make you let go of his hand, but it seemed like his anger and jealousy had taken the reins today. But even when you were angry with him and looked about three seconds away from hitting his other hand, he couldn't help but marvel at you. He was completely enamored, looking from your furrowed brow to your narrowed eyes to your full lips. And his eyes stayed on your lips because it seemed that no matter how angry you were he couldn't ignore the ever-growing urge to kiss you right then and there, consequences be damned.

You rolled your eyes, anger bubbling up inside of you once again. "Benedict, I simply don't understand why you're so upset. If anything, marrying Anthony is a better option than marrying anyone else. Our families will remain close and you and I can still see each other fairly often. And once you're married–"

"I'll never marry," he interrupted, voice clipped. He was appalled that you would even suggest that, although he reasoned that you had no reason to believe that he wouldn't marry.

You look at him, confusion written all over your face. "I– What? What do you mean you will never marry? Benedict–"

"I love you," Ben blurted out. "I love you in a way that even words cannot express. I would rather remain unmarried than be with someone who isn't you," he added, needing to make sure that you understood that he loved you beyond what the boundaries of your friendship allowed. He had thought that you might fall in love with some other man, and he would be fated to watch you be besotted with someone else. However, now that he knew that you intended to marry Anthony, who you were most definitely not in love with, he needed you to know that he was the one who had loved you for years now. And he hoped that you might love him, too.

But you did not swoon like he expected. And you did not rush into his arms to kiss him or confess your undying love for him. You didn't even smile. "Are you joking?" you said angrily.

Benedict's eyes widened, shocked by your response. "I'm not– Why would I be joking?" he stumbled over his words.

"First you tell me you won't marry me, which is fine by the way, and then you leave so I can find a husband, which is also fine. Except," you let out a disbelieving laugh, "once you find out that your older brother is the man I'm going to marry, you are suddenly in love with me." You're still staring at him, daring him to challenge you. "It's a little too convenient, don't you think?"

He was panicking, horrified that you thought his confession was merely a way to get back at you for going after his brother. Guilt was coursing through his stomach in an entirely unpleasant manner, and he was struggling to find the words to convey his love for you in a way that you deserved to hear.

"It's not like that! I do love you. I want you and I don't want anyone else," he said desperately, reaching for your hand so he could reassure you.

But you were having none of it. After all this time, you couldn't believe he had the nerve to show up at Aubrey Hall, get into a fight with your future husband, and then confess his supposedly undying love for you. Feeling his hand clutching yours, a feeling so familiar, brought tears to your eyes. You ripped your hand away from his, not able to parse the gentleness with which he held your hand with his careless words.

"Stop it! Having you leave after I asked you to marry me was painful, but this might be the cruelest thing you've ever done, Benedict," you said, tears blurring your vision. "You can't just march in here after weeks of being away and demand that I stop my plans so that you can get back at your brother."

Benedict's eyes welled with tears, reflecting the pain that echoed in your own. He couldn't believe you still wanted to marry Anthony after all this. You were his one big love. There was no one else. And it was all too much to think that you didn't feel the same way.

So he pressed, "Is my love not enough? I have been falling apart on my own from the magnitude of my love for you. Should that not be enough? To know that I love you with every fiber of my being, more fiercely than I've ever done anything in my entire life?"

Tears were running unobstructed down your face now and you choked back a sob. If Benedict had told you this about six weeks ago, you would have dropped everything to be with him. But it was too late now.

"It's not enough when I had been feeling the exact same way and you still walked away from me," you responded, clutching his hand for comfort even though he was the one who had caused you pain.

He pulled you in fully, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back comfortingly. Benedict put his chin on your head as you buried your face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent that never failed to make you feel at home.

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm so sorry," he murmured, hugging you tighter when he heard you sob. "I suppose being in love with you feels so natural I didn't quite realize what it was until recently." He kept rubbing your back, tracing patterns on your skin.

"And– And I thought I was ruining our friendship. When I wanted you, I kept thinking I shouldn't have been," Ben added, cringing as he realized the gravity of his misunderstanding.

You were overwhelmed by his confession, barely believing that he actually reciprocated the feelings you had struggled to keep hidden for so long. You couldn't help the steady stream of tears running down your face, and you burrowed deeper into Benedict, needing to be closer still. You felt one of his hands lifting your face to look up at him and the other keeping you pressed firmly against him. Your tear-stained eyes met his as you sniffled, struggling to breathe normally.

You watched, almost in slow motion, as Benedict's eyes fluttered shut and leaned down, lips slightly parted as he leaned down toward you. This was everything you wanted, wasn't it? In the rose garden, you had wanted him to kiss you more than you had wanted to keep breathing. You had probably spent hours looking at his lips, wondering what it would be like to taste them. To have them on your lips and enjoy the feel of them as they moved against yours. To know what it felt like to have Benedict be truly yours.

But that was then, and you wanted different things now. So you broke free of his grasp and pushed him away, breathing heavily as he opened his eyes in shock and looked to you for an explanation.

"You can't just do that, Ben! We haven't resolved anything, and it certainly won't be resolved by you kissing me," you exclaimed, playing up your anger to hide your pain.

So you turned on your heel, exiting his studio as quietly as you had entered, and he was left, for the second time that day, speechless as someone walked away from him. 

—

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[buckets-and-trees]

Okay this sparked my whore brain, so! Which CE!water monster babe (but sexy lollll) emerges from the depths of the lake, so beyond thirsty, and has you on the shore over and over again until his thirst is quenched? 😏

Siri, I've thought about this for the last week since you dropped it in my box...

That imagery is GORGEOUS!

And perhaps that's why you were drawn in and totally unaware of the predicament you were putting yourself in...

Bolotnik Curtis spends most of his time in the cold, dark bottoms of the lake, but the humans nearby have been encroaching more and more on the territory of his people with their shipping trade, affecting their way of life below the water's surface.

content/warnings: NON-CON TO DUB-CON, kidnapping, deflowering, vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, teratophilia/monster fucking, tail sex, nipple play, breast worship, tail riding, cock warming, light cum play, finger sucking, anal play, breeding/no protection, breeding kink, somnophilia

He emerges from the lake a few times to take stock of the situation.

A human village, but none of them seem particularly foul - merely unaware of him and his people.

He can easily inspire fear and cooperation.

And when he sees you, daughter of one of the elders, he now only knows how he will do it, but relishes in the possibility.

Curtis helps the medicinal flowers to flourish even more abundantly than usual on the shores of the lake. It draws you and a few others to take on the regular foraging and collection of them.

One of the evenings when you go out to collect, he draws you away from your companions by creating tiny, sparkling lights that hover and dance over the surface of the water, drawing you closer to the edge and further down the lakeshore line until you're alone.

You had come out so many evenings now that you weren't at all worried about being separated from your companions.

Tonight was like any other night.

Except that it wasn't.

Curtis had watched you more than once.

Had been waiting.

Because tonight was not like any other night.

Tonight he could smell that you were at the peak of your fertility cycle.

And so he finally emerges from the watery shadows of the shoreline, hoists you effortlessly over his shoulder, and his tail wraps around your mouth to smother your sounds of protest and fear.

Once he's pulled you into the cluster of trees, you're both hidden from view, and he puts you none to gently on the ground.

"We should be far enough away no one would hear you, but scream and I'll make you regret it."

But the hulking creature looming above you is so fearsome and alluring that it has your brain stuck for how exactly you should react at all, so your nod to be silent is all you can manage.

Parts of him are covered in mud and algae, but there are also luminescent fish scales over patches of his skin.

Skin you see much more of within seconds as he rips away his clothing, and you find yourself laying beneath a broad chest with rippling muscles that taper down to a narrower waist and his bare loins, and the hard cock that waits there has your suck in a sharp breath and look back up into his eyes in fear.

He wipes a tear away from your cheek. "I would tell you not to fret, but I do intend to use your body until even after your last ounce of energy has been expended, sweet virgin. But perhaps at some point this night, you'll cry in ecstasy instead of fear."

He thumbs away another tear, but then that thumb draws down your neck, over your collar bone, and then his hand pulls at the neckline of your simple blouse, popping buttons off, until your breasts are bared for his eager mouth.

While he lavishes feverish attention to one nipple, then the other, and back and forth again, making you writhe beneath him, his free hand pushes your skirts up, and between his hand and his tail, he rips your bloomers to shreds.

You cry out as he forces your legs apart.

His fingers play with your labia until your clit is stiff and pulsing and you're hole is slick and wet for him.

But its the tip of his tail that slips into your vagina first, and you whimper, but he's insistent in his motions. His lips and his fingers work to drive you to distractions of pleasure.

And once he switches his tail for his cock, it's still a painful breach, but one that has you arching beneath him on a silent scream, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He sheathes himself fully inside of you, but only gives a few slow ruts in and out, rocking his hips, wanting you to be filled and feel the intrusion of his cock. Once settled, your painful grip on his arms relaxes slightly, and that's when he goes to work making you forget that you hadn't wanted or asked for this.

He rubs little circles over your clit until your walls clench and you shake with your first orgasm.

He slips his fingers into your gasping mouth and rests them on your tongue, forcing you to suck on them and taste your own juices.

The sucking soothes and lulls you into being more pliant for him. He fingers you to another orgasm, and when your second one crests and breaks, so does the rest of his lust.

He fucks you into the ground. He rolls you over and takes you from behind. He leans up against the tree and has you ride him. He torments your clit with his tail. At various points in the night, that tail also teases the tight ring of muscle between your plump ass cheeks, which he relishes in kneading.

He relishes in kneading and sucking all the spots of tender, warm flesh on your body.

You fall asleep on his chest, thoroughly exhausted, his cock still inside of you.

In the middle of the night, you wake up to his long tongue between your legs, plunging into your core, and his moans speak to his approval of the taste of your combined spend.

You whimper, and he raises his head.

"This night is far from over," he promises. "You will continue to take my seed until the dawn breaks, because I will have you growing with my child this night."

Boneless and exhausted as you are, he moves your body to his whims and desires. He has you riding his thigh, riding his tail, begging for him to fill your aching hole even though you know you shouldn't want more, but he's experimenting and ultimately exploiting every pleasurable spot of your human body, driving you to crave and keen for him.

He spills his seed into you more times than any human man could in one night.

When he draws you into the water not long before dawn, you whine when he makes to slide you off of his cock, your arms tightening around his neck and your legs around his waist. He chuckles in dark satisfaction.

"Pushed you past pleasure and into desperation, my sweet little human? Can't think of not being split open by my cock?"

You bury your head into the crook of his neck, lust and confusion battling out in your head.

He cleans you as well as he can, then carries you back to the secluded spot in the trees and lays you down on your side.

He holds you against him, petting you, cooing into your ear until he lulls you back to sleep as the sunlight breaks.

And just before you lose consciousness, he vows to come back for what's his against your brow and seals his ominous promise with a one more dangerous, intoxicating kiss.

Well... um.

I certainly didn't know exactly how that answer would go when I started, but here we are. 🥵

A/N: I wanted to do a water creature that really spoke to the imagery Siri sent in the original ask, so I scoped out some Wikipedia and ended up doing a very rough base off of the Slavic Bolotnik. So it's a "real" mythical creature with its own folklore.

[koolades-world]

Okay follow me here what if jealous mammon is like why dont you ask x to do that with you? You're spending a lot of time with them. And mc just responds with they're not you

AHHH so cute

I'm 100% following gahhh that "they're not you" line is SO good

Us

You finally arrived home after RAD, giggling with Asmo. It had been mostly boring, but at least you shared most of your classes with Asmo. He never failed to make everything more interesting. He not only made group assignments fun and colorful, he even made silent, individual assignments better with lots of texts back and forth.

Weirdly enough, you hadn't seen Mammon today. You didn't have as many classes with him, but you always made it a point to spend some time with him when possible. But, you couldn't find him anywhere. You also didn't get a response to any of your texts to him. After you were done talking to Asmo, you decided to make it a point to find him.

"Mc! Look at how cute this outfit is!" Asmo snapped you out of thought by showing you his DDD. It was Majolish Devilgram with a post with their latest stock.

"That belt is so you! The pink is just your shade." You take the DDD from him to look at the post closer.

"I know, right? We should go today before they sell out! They know me, and will probably set some aside for me, but if they did that forever, how would they make a profit?" He laughed, tucking the DDD back in his pocket. Before you could respond, you caught a flash of white at the top of the stairs. You remembered that you hadn't seen Mammon all day, and in hopes that it was him, you decided to see if you could find him.

"Actually, do you mind waiting a little? I just remembered I have something I need to check on." You glance towards the stairs again but see nothing.

"Oh, of course! You know, if its Levi you want to check on, just know he's still alive. I texted him this morning. Just be back soon! Those clothes won't try themselves on. Let me know when you're ready to leave." Asmo gave you a quick hug, before walking off in the direction of the living room.

As soon as he was out of sight, you made your way up the stairs and in the general direction of that something that caught your eye. You began to wander around upstairs, in hopes of finding the white haired demon that had been on your mind all day. The door to Mammon's room was shut, but a light was streaming out from underneath it. Gently, you knock.

"Mammon? Are you in there?" There was no response, but you heard movement in the room. "I can hear you in there. Is something wrong?" You can hear more shuffling around before the door finally opens.

"What?" Mammon asked sharply. You're stunned for a moment. You've never heard him use that tone with you before.

"Are you ok?" You ignore the way he addressed you and continued.

"I don't know. How's Asmo?" His tone was dripping with malice.

"What's gotten into you?" You raise your voice a little, confused. He turned away from you.

"Don't you have somewhere to be with Asmo?" He walked further into his room, away from you. You step into his room after him and shut the door behind you.

"He did want to go to Majolish later, but it can wait. I can't go anywhere without checking up on you." You keep walking after him as he sit down on his bed with force.

"Just go then. I'm clearly not worth your time." He turns his body away from you. He sounds more upset than anything at this point. You sit beside him and put an arm around him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but please, help me help you." You lean to try and look at his face, but give up once he makes it clear he doesn't want you to.

"If you like Asmo that much, just go be with him." He huffs. His voice is quiet with emotion seeping into it.

"Mammon. He's not you." He stiffened like he'd been shocked. "No matter how much time I may spend with your brothers, or anyone for that matter, they come no where close to being you. You were my first friend here, and you made me feel at home away from home. You were my first pact. We have a special bond that's so precious to me. Most importantly, you're my first man. Not Asmo. Not anyone else. You." He turns back to you, his eyes glazed over with tears that threatened to spill. "Is that what you needed to hear? Because it's all true." He turns his entire body towards you and tackles you into a hug. You can't see his expression anymore, but from the way he fiercely cuddles you to his chest, you can tell how happy he is.

"I- I'm sorry." He hesitates at first. After taking a deep breath, he continues. "It was stupid. I just saw ya hanging out with Asmo a lot lately, and I jumped to conclusions." He hides his head into your shoulder.

"There's no need to apologize for how you feel, Mams. Just try to be a little more open next time. I was worried, you know." You feel him happily sigh into your shoulder at the nickname. You rub his back soothingly.

"I will. 'm sorry for scarin' ya." Before you can tell him he doesn't need to apologize again, he continues. "Will ya stay with me? I don't care if ya bring homework or whatever into my room, I just want yer company." He holds himself tightly to you as you try to push off of him a little to look at him.

"Of course." You decided to hold him for a bit longer, to reassure him he was the only man for you.

[avelera]

"Nice is Different than Good" Character Interpretation: Hob Gadling as Kind of a Bastard

Ok, slightly controversial take on Hob Gadling Is Kind of a Bastard that I've been toying with. It runs counter to some wonderful let me be clear, amazing fanon I've seen in some fics, so this is much more me going, "Hey, here's a way to do it different that might work better in different stories fan writers might want to tell," and not to invalidate other takes or even to put forth that I think this is necessarily true of Hob in a meta sense, it's just shining a light on the text from a different direction, y'know?

Hob as Neutral Evil (credit to Winter on the big dreamling server for this concept!)

I'm obsessed with the idea that Hob is neutral evil on ye olde D&D alignment chart because it makes so much sense if the axis for evil is primarily based on selfishness.

Primary evidence? How casually he talks in 1489 about having done a bit of soldiering and banditry. Those jobs are about killing people. Maybe not all the time as a bandit, ideally, but even then it's about taking their stuff. There is absolutely zero remorse in Hob's tone about being a soldier and a bandit just because he's at his most wide-eyed innocent and has since picked up a trade.

Hob as Politically Conservative until at least 1789 but possibly until 1989

Hob as far as I can tell is a model of the white male middle class existence in England throughout what we define as more or less the "modern era". As far as I can tell, there's no indication at any point prior to 1789 that Hob rocked the boat or was at all out of step with the Powers That Be.

In general, I kind of see Hob as always just this side of the "wrong side of history" and I personally find it more interesting when that's where we find him. And not in a grand sense but in a "middle of the road" sense of just going along with the day to day accepted levels of harm and evil caused by societal momentum. Generally speaking, only a very small percentage of the population takes active part in moving the needle towards good at any given time on a variety causes, and I tend to see Hob is generally speaking outside of all those minorities of do-gooders, except when it comes to taking care of his immediate friends and family. Which is a pretty average place to be.

Indeed, when it comes to the Wat Tyler rebellion, it's my personal headcanon that Hob was more likely on the side of the soldiers putting DOWN the rebellion on behalf of the local lords, and unlikely to have been interested in or part of the cause of greater equality in England. The fact he's a soldier drinking with his mates openly in a tavern when people around him are talking about Wat Tyler and he's blithely ignoring the discussion is where I get that sense.

Indeed, I believe (though I don't know where to cite it, even in the English Civil Wars, Hob was canonically on the side of the monarchy. So jot that down as Hob being pro-monarchy.

While, yes, I believe post 1789 he learned to be less of a piece of shit about taking active part if horrific industrial-level cruelty, I don't see evidence he became a superhero after that. The one bit of "on the page"altruism we see from him is him flipping a coin to Lushing Lou and telling an obvious alcoholic to go get a drink so she stops pestering his friend by offering herself to him as a prostitute, something Hob seems entirely comfortable with.

In 1989 when Hob gets out of his sleek convertible, dressed like a stock trader, he uses the Financial Times to shield himself from the rain, a periodical that apparently was just lying around in his car. As tempting as it would be to say it's to somehow show off to Dream, he has no reason to believe Dream would come back to his car so more likely, it's just something for himself.

All of these put together show me on the page that Hob stayed pretty fixated on making money even after deciding and coming to regret being part of the "shipping business".

And to be clear, we don't actually know when Hob quit the shipping business. Personally, I like to think he did it right after Dream asked, but that's a romantic take and deliberately so. Hob having the opinion by 1889 that slavery is wrong is not necessarily a progressive take by then. Regardless, even if in 1789 he learned it was wrong, that still puts him just slightly ahead of the curve, philosophically speaking.

If we pull in comic canon we do know Hob was ahead of the curve on feminism by 1912 in Hob's Leviathan but again, women would get the right to vote by 1918/1928 in England after the issue had been discussed for at least a century (keep in mind, male Catholics couldn't vote in England until the early 1800s) so again this puts him as palatable to modern readers but not necessary terribly ahead of the curve.

Now, let me also be clear, where Hob is at in 2022 is anyone's guess. Personally I think Dream not showing up in 1989 was a second wakeup call for Hob. If he'd drifted back towards selfish hedonism by 1989, as his whole vibe suggests, he might very well have looked in the mirror and thought, "What if this is why my stranger stayed away?"

We know he becomes a teacher. That probably would go a long way towards changing his politics. We know he's a history teacher, so now he's got the long view. He's spending time in academia, which tends to lean left. My point is, Hob in 2022 is anyone guess and I think there's a lot of evidence and word of god evidence that he's become a Good Person by then, but I also think it's the 1989 meeting that jumpstarted him being Good and not just Nice. Because I do think Hob throughout all these periods of being morally a bastard was always good to the people close to him in his life. I think he was a good friend and a good husband and would have been a good friend to Dream had he allowed it. And that's what I enjoy most, that he could be both of those things, Nice and Not Good.

Hob as non-religious

I admit, this one is very near and dear to my heart for personal reasons of identifying as an atheist when it comes to Christianity and being a lifelong skeptic of Catholicism for the brief time I was technically a member of that organization (all of which while I was a minor). To be clear there is just as much evidence to say Hob is any number of religious alignments as there is that he has none. It's a totally personal choice by any author, I'm just outlining my evidence for why I write him as effectively an atheist.

The Black Death is considered the period that broke the spine of the Catholic church as a monolith in Europe. All the good priests who did their duty taking care of people and giving last rites died leaving only the ones who fled or were young, with tons of money given to the church because of all the rampant death.

Hob would have been born into an era that was particularly rife with both fanaticism and anti-church sentiment. There was a lot of evidence abounding that being a good Christian just got you killed.

Given Hob is a soldier drinking with his mates 1389, I don't see much evidence of him being particularly devout there. No less so in 1489, by the way. Not saying there's evidence against it, just that there's no evidence for it and indeed, societally there's justification for him to not be devout given the century he was born.

1589 I'd say we've got some evidence Hob isn't devout: he seems unperturbed by King Henry's ransacking of the monasteries. Politically speaking, if Hob is a New Man, he might have even benefited from that ransacking personally. In my personal view, Hob is an opportunist and most likely converted to Church of England at the earliest possible opportunity to curry favor with the Powers that Be. I don't personally see him as someone who would bother pretending to be Protestant while continuing to practice Catholicism, because:

Why would Hob bother to be faithful at all? He can't die. The #1 reason to be devout is to avoid Hell or get into Heaven. Hob has clearly chosen the secular world as the only Heaven he cares about. He says that his current life is what, "He once thought Heaven would be like" and it's a very secular vision of good food and safe streets. He does not appear to be pining at all for any spiritual version of Heaven and indeed, speaks of Heaven as a dream only in the past tense.

Personally, by 1689, I think Hob has plenty of reasons to hate God after what he's suffered and the fact he's still not interested in dying to me seems a pretty strong indication that he does not hold romantic views of the afterlife.

Finally, for 1789 to the present, there was absolutely a class of gentleman who were progress minded, obsessed with technology and the Age of Reason. Many American Founding Fathers were self-proclaimed deists, basically a safe form of atheism that said eh, yes God exists and is out there and we owe him some deference, but he doesn't impact day to day life and we can safely ignore him most of the time. Personally, and this is pure headcanon, I put Hob in that group cheerfully ignoring religion and never looking back because he's more interested in the new technologies of the day and not the crusty old church.

We also know, canonically, that at least in 1789, Hob does not consider himself Jewish.

And of course, we can't forget: Hob has evidence that the Christian cosmology is wrong, somehow, given his stranger and his own immortality.

Frankly, given that Hob appears on the page to be a hedonist with no fear of dying, it's interesting to speculate on what his moral boundaries would be at all coming from a world where Heaven and Hell were the primary means of moral social control. It is possible to speculate that Hob could have gone completely off the rails as far as worrying about his soul for a bit there, other than thinking he's already sold it, which could go either way as far as trying to redeem himself but again, he speaks casually of being a soldier and a bandit, so it doesn't sound like if he worried about his soul being sold already, he thought there was anything that could be done to redeem it.

[pparadiselost]

Hi! In your nsfw headcanons for Luna, you said that you see him as the type to enjoy airplane sex, could you do a scenario with this for him, the reader could be his girlfriend or perhaps a flight attendant, or even better: reader is the pilot that Luna requests every time to fly his private jet (and whom he like very much) and they end up having ykyk (tho do whatever you like best, these are just some ideas). Thanks!

red eye.

leonardo luna x pilot fem reader the best way to pass time on an early flight is to get handsy. warning(s): nsfw, blowjob, plane sex, ambiguous relationship minors do not interact.

the glamorous part of any luxurious lifestyle had to have its downsides. a yin to its yang, like how darkness couldn’t exist without light. but as leonardo luna yawns and rubs the sleep out of his heavy eyelids, he decides that there’s really no need for him to be so dramatic about a flight in the weary hours of the day. this was simply one part of being a professional athlete; he was nothing more than a glorified doll for the higher ups who wanted to rake in money from his talent.

he didn’t care about any of that though. he was happy with what he had, with what more he was pursuing. his private jet was nice enough as is, a privilege very few could even dream of affording in their lifetimes. made just for his personal use, stocked with every kind of amenity possible, it was built for comfort so that he could do whatever he needed while being shuttled back and forth across the wide, wide globe. 

it was mind-boggling to even think about how many people wanted to see him. leonardo stretches back in his airplane seat, glancing around the vast cabin area. an almost-finished bowl of fruit sits in the tray in front of him, and the flight has been smooth so far. 

that much is all thanks to your expertise. you’re his trusted pilot and plaything, and leonardo has made it very clear that he has no use for useless people in his life. and you’ve made yourself very useful to him. he’s sure that with the flight now stabilized, you’re sure to leave the reins to your first officer and come pay him a long overdue visit. you’ve endeared yourself to him quite a bit. 

a door clicks open in front of him, and leonardo knows to smile in greeting before he even knows that it’s you that’s going to be stepping out. he leans back a bit further in his seat, and he relaxes his posture to give off that confident, somewhat sleazy vibe has has going for him. “speak of the devil, angel. i was just thinking about you.”

“good morning, luna. i hope you’re enjoying your flight so far.” you always play coy, putting up a wall of professionalism between the two of you. he doesn’t know why you do it, especially when you both know it’s going to go down crumbling within minutes once he starts buttering you up. 

“i always do, more so when you’re in the picture.” his bright green eyes gleam with a kind of delight reserved solely for you, enjoying the thick tension that hangs in the air. it’s moments before he pounces, and he’s simply biding his time for the inevitable ending. he doesn’t need to look behind him to know that the section of the private jet where all the attendants are is locked, and it’s you and him alone for the time being.

“i’m glad to hear that,” you plainly state, “our clients’ satisfaction is what matters most to us.”

there it is again, that faux wall of yours. you two always end up having sex whenever he flies with you, and yet you get so shy each and every time. leonardo likes that side of you, so desperate to cling to your dignity even though he wrecks you so thoroughly that he has no clue how you pick yourself back up to go back to your job.

you purse your lips, swallowing back the nervousness clearly welling up inside of you. his cock twitches inside his pants. lewd images of your pretty lips wrapping around his dick, tongue shyly swirling around his length and taking him bit by bit into your mouth floods his brain. blood shoots down south, and he lets out a deep sigh, adjusting the way he sits. he wants to see every inch of your body again, that cute body you hide so determinedly behind a pilot’s uniform that does nothing good for his overactive imagination. 

he really, really does like you.

“why don’t we cut to the chase, yeah? we both know why we’re here, and i’m dying to get a little bit of destressing done before the big soccer guys run me down to the ground playing games,” he groans. you don’t bat an eye as he looks at you expectantly, and a loose smirk dangles from his lips. “work your magic.”

“...how would you like me today?” you murmur. there’s a clear dickprint that’s slowly emerging from his pants, the outline of his thick and heavy cock straining against the fabric. you drool a bit inwardly at the sight. it’s already flattering to work so closely with a famous soccer player and to be on good terms with him, but to know that you specifically have such an effect on him? sure, it might be nothing more than baseless lust, but being desired sexually is still desire at its core.

he pretends to think. “let’s put that mouth of yours to good use today. here. on your knees, angel. open up.”

he spreads his knees and pats his inner thigh. your heart flutters nervously inside your chest, but you step forward obediently and sink down to your knees. you stare up at him through your eyelashes, and leonardo is nothing short of smitten. he’s done well to have you in the palm of his hand like this, and he wants nothing more than to bury his cock down your throat.

leonardo breathes through his nose when he feels you caressing his legs. your fingers carefully tug at the waistline of his pants, and he moves with you so that you can pull them down to reveal his underwear. you rub your hands against the big bulge at his crotch, pressing your fingers against his cock so that you can mimic the motion of jerking him off through his boxers.

dull pleasure thrums at his lower stomach. “that’s it… keep going. i said i wanted your mouth, didn’t i?”

you have half a mind to talk back, but you complacent yank down his boxers. you gasp when his dick springs free. no matter how many times you’ve seen it, taken it in various holes, touched it and sucked it, his size still amazes you. he’s still only half-hard, and yet it stands so proud, its girth and length enough to make you immediately fantasize about how good it’ll feel inside of you. you gather up the saliva in your mouth and spit into your palm, and you gingerly grab the base of his cock to stroke him up and down.

“i’m getting to it,” you whisper. you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his length, and he lets out a small groan. you watch his face as you continue to kiss him, alternating between lazy strokes and stimulating him with your lips. his breath hitches when you press a kiss directly to his lips, and a bit of sticky pre-cum clings to your skin. you aren’t taking him into your mouth nor are you using any of your tongue. it’s oddly intimate and sweet, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly it makes his head spin.

“fuck, angel, you’re being bad… is this your way of teasing me? do you want me to punish you? you should know by now that i’m not a patient man,” he laughs darkly. he leers down at you, and the smile on his face is an unspoken warning. you squeeze your thighs together at the sight, your pussy throbbing at the thought of leonardo being mad at you. he’s a man of his word, and that’s a lesson you’ve learned firsthand.

you tentatively stick your tongue out, and while holding the base of his cock firmly, you lick a straight stripe up the underside of his cock. your tongue can feel every single inch, every little vein, every groove that you’ve gotten far too familiar with. you swirl your tongue expertly around his tip, making sure to lather your spit generously around the sensitive head before pressing your mouth fully against his cock and wrapping your lips around his cockhead. 

a throaty noise escapes the blond, and he throws his head back. “hah- fuck- so i have to goad you into doing this? fucking whore… that’s it. take me in your mouth. show me how much you want to fuck my cock with that dirty mouth of yours.”

you sink your mouth down his inches slowly, enjoying the feeling of his cock invading you and hitting the back of your throat. there’s so much of him inside your cheeks, and you get to work swiftly by rubbing your drooling tongue over as much of his dick as you can. the bitter, salty taste of his pre-cum against your tongue is familiar, and you relax your throat the best you can to fit as much of his length inside you.

you hollow your cheeks, and you slowly bob your head. you want him to feel good, the taste and feeling of his big cock weighing inside of your mouth making your head spin. you suck and slurp at his length, and your tongue trails over his skin, memorizing every detail of his cock. it’s heady and heavy, and it weighs down on your mouth like a constant reminder of how much leonardo has you entirely at his mercy.

“hah…,” leonardo groans. his words are low and seductive against your ears, and your core throbs with need at the sound of his husky voice. “god, you’re sucking so hard right from the start. did you want it that badly? did you want to suck my dick that badly? yeah, that’s what i thought… got nothing but my cock on your mind, don’t you? it’s all your mouth is good for, isn’t it?”

heat flares up like a spark inside your body at his lewd words. if you were any younger or any newer on the job, you might have snarked back at him, but he isn’t wrong. just the thought of flying with him again has you squirming in your seat, eager for another few hours of sex in the airplane together, your body completely rewired thanks to the insane pleasure he gives you.

you moan shamelessly around his length. the vibrations send delightful waves of pleasure up the soccer player’s gut, and his fingers curl into his seat. you want to pleasure him, want to do such a good job that he’ll reward you by sticking his cock into your cunt next. just the thought of fucking yourself on his cock makes you feel weak in the knees, and you drool around his dick.

a strong hand lands on your scalp, and his knuckles bury themselves into your hair. he doesn’t force you down further onto his cock or anything, but he guides you. his gentle touch contrasted against his harsh words makes you see stars as you rhythmically bob your head up and down, lathering as much spit as you can using your tongue over his shaft.

leonardo thinks you look nothing short of fantastic: his beautiful, professional pilot on her knees, dedicatedly sucking him off, bedroom eyes that are practically begging for him to fuck you. leonardo knows he could have anyone in the world, using his status and money, and yet he’s hung up entirely over some hard working girl by his side. you’re loyal, dependable, and something about you drives him wild.

his cock twitches and jerks inside of your mouth. you do your best to mimic the feeling of your own cunt using your tongue and spit, dragging your lips tightly against his cock, flushing your cheeks out. god, he loves how your mouth feels. warm and wet, it’s everything he’s dreamed of. he doesn’t even need to lift a finger with you doing all the work for him, and all he needs to do is lose himself to the feeling.

“shit, that’s it… fuck, you’re going so hard- yeah, you love this, don’t you? being so greedy for my cock… ha- i better be the only guy you give this kind of treatment to.” he grits his teeth. he knows you wouldn’t entertain anyone else’s attention, not when he’s this eager to lavish his time like this onto you. leonardo isn’t particularly romantic and he should know better than to give his heart away to his pilot of all people, but he doesn’t know how else to describe this convenient happiness that’s landed in his lap. “can’t have my pretty pilot suck someone’s dick now, can i? you’re mine. my pretty cockslut.”

you hum in agreement. why bother chasing other men when you have him? you can feel more of his pre-cum leaking from his tip, and you obediently swirl your tongue around his sensitive head. you lick at his slit, eagerly swallowing down whatever salty pre-cum you can get. his balls tighten up against him, and you can feel his cock twitching dangerously against the back of your throat.

leonardo lets out a shaky exhale. the confident smile he has on is wavering slightly, his mask slipping under the pleasure. “fuck- yes- that’s it, angel. ha- gonna cum inside your mouth- are you going to be good and swallow it all for me? gonna swallow all of my cum?”

you nod frantically. you want it. you want to taste his cum. you want to make him happy, and you want him to reward you. you suck harder on his dick, milking him the best you can with your mouth. you don’t want to think too hard about how messy you must look, with your once-pristine work uniform ruffled and your carefully prepared hair undone by his hand. there’s drool escaping from the corners of your mouth, leaking down your chin and onto his cock, lubing your lips up nicely to make it easy for you to move up and down his length as rapidly as you can. 

his palm is reassuring and yet threatening against the crown of your head, coaxing you to continue sloppily going down on him. his chest rises and falls, and he groans, “god- so fucking close…! shit- fuck, jesus fucking christ- yeah, take it, take it just like that… fucking god, you whore, take my cock like that-!”

you stiffen, and he bucks his hips, cramming his cock down far into your mouth. you momentarily gag around him, choking and spluttering around his length as it violates your windpipe. leonardo groans throatily, and he pumps himself in and out of your mouth a few times before he buries his cock back into you, cumming straight down your throat. 

the taste of his cum floods your mouth. you choke and gag ungracefully on it, your throat constricting as you struggle to swallow as much of it as you can. it’s hot, it burns, and you can feel his cock pulsing inside your mouth as he spurts the last bits of his cum down into your windpipe. you clench your eyes shut, steeling yourself and forcing your mind to stay with you as you gulp down mouthful after mouthful of thick semen.

leonardo groans again, and even through the hazy fog of his orgasm, he can see you slowly pulling yourself off of his cock. you lick your lips, and your tongue is coated in a thin layer of his cum as you guzzle down whatever escaped your mouth. he sits there, inhaling and exhaling shakily as you tentatively clean him up, your tongue dragging across his softening cock to lap up any remaining bits of his cum.

you’re good. too good.

he grunts. he just came, and yet the sight of you sitting on your legs, staring up so longingly at him makes him go crazy. he wants to reach forward and rip your uniform right off of your body, to stick his cock straight into your tight cunt. he’s sure you want it just as badly as he does, given that you’re pressing your thighs together and looking back at him expectantly.

it doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s getting hard again, and the lovestruck look you’re giving him only fuels him with ideas. he gestures for you to get up, and he motions for you to come closer.

“did you swallow it all up?” he asks coldly. you stick your tongue out, showing him nonverbally that you did. he clicks his tongue, and another smirk overtakes his handsome features.

“i have a cumslut for a pilot. isn’t that a joy?” he quips breathlessly. “did it feel good, swallowing my cum? or would you have preferred that i stuffed it into your pussy instead? yeah, i bet you wanted the latter, didn’t you? i could see the way you were acting. your eyes were practically begging for me to fuck you.”

you nod. your uniform is too tight, too hot, sticks too closely to your skin. you need him to take care of the burning heat inside of your core, and you need to feel the stretch in your walls as he fucks his cock into you. you wouldn’t dream of doing this for anyone else, yet something about leonardo has you acting as if you’ve been bewitched.

he sits back smugly, his hard dick fully on display for you to claim. “what are you waiting for then, angel? go ahead. ride me.”

there’s an almost possessive gleam in his beautiful green eyes as he sizes you up, eyes undressing you right then and there. you glance behind him, to make sure the compartment for the flight attendants are locked, to make sure everything you’ll do with him stays between the two of you.

his voice cuts through your thoughts, almost as if to soothe you. it’s oddly romantic, despite the bastardized relationship you have with him, edging the line between coworker and lover, professional and romantic, the acceptable and the forbidden.

but that doesn’t matter to him, does it? it never has, not when he has you.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “not without you.”

[lesbojournals]

Drunken Crafts (Stucky x Reader)

It was a painfully average day in your house, Steve and Bucky off at Avengers headquarters doing god knows what while you lounged around. You had already cleaned the whole house to entertain yourself: the vacuuming was done, the bathrooms were spotless, all of the laundry and dishes were clean and put away. You had even started dinner, cooking a beef stew with vegetables in the pressure cooker.

What else, truly, was there to do?

You felt like Rapunzel in the beginning of Tangled–you had already read a book this morning, you took a shower, you even clipped the cat’s claws!

You pattered around the house, convinced nothing would entertain you at this point, until your eyes landed on Bucky’s bottle of Tennessee Whiskey.

You glanced back and forth, almost nervous to be caught sauntering over to the bottle. You shyly took it and brought it over to the kitchen, where you mixed it with some sweet tea you had made earlier.

You took a sip and sighed happily, bringing both the bottle and the tea to the living room where you planned on watching some youtube.

As the drink became more empty, new ideas sprung into your head. You decided to get out all of your crafting tools, deciding on making both Bucky and Steve a masterpiece. After another drink or two, you couldn't remember, you abandoned the crafts and decided hey, what better time than now to bake some cookies? It'd be a fun dessert after having your stew.

With that, you skipped off to the kitchen, drink in hand, to bake. At one point you decided to take off your pants, after all, they weren't your sweats and you didn't want to dirty them. The same thought did not occur about the XXL Avengers logo tee you had on.

You turned on your favorite happy music, bouncing around eating raw cookie dough from the wooden mixing spoon.

The music was so loud that you didn't hear Bucky and Steve enter. You were too distracted making cookies that you forgot you not only had music on, but youtube as well, and a mess of crafts in the living room.

Steve confusingly walked up the stairs as Bucky took off his shoes, unsure of why there was so much loud noise throughout the house.

“Beautiful?” He called, and his eyes softened immediately at the sight of you.

He stopped in his footsteps, leading Bucky to catch up and hastily go “Is everything okay, Stevie?”

Steve pointed at you, dancing obnoxiously with cookie batter in your hands, and Bucky sighed in adoration, before noticing that you had no pants on.

He practically bolted up the rest of the stairs, and you caught his eye as he fully entered the kitchen with a “Buck!!”

“What're you doing honey?” He asked, looking around the floor of the apartment to see your mess.

“Baking cookies!!” You happily answered, swaying back and forth with a giggle.

Before Bucky could comment Steve brought his attention. “Looks like someone got to your liquid gold, honey.” He held up the now empty whiskey bottle.

Bucky stared at the bottle with wide eyes, then turned back to you.

“Is something wrong?” You laughed, throwing your cookies in the oven (quite literally-you didn't realize how aggressive you were being).

Bucky smiled along with Steve, and grabbed you from behind. “Nothing, we just love you.”

“I love you both too!!” You said with a hiccup, then you remembered. “Oh wait !! I have a gift for you two!!”

You ran off to the living room, while Steve turned off the very loud music. They both followed you in, eyes nearly bulging out of their heads at the mess you made.

You didn't notice their look, instead holding up a large piece of card stock full of collage, stickers, and drawings. It said “DrAwINg fOr My SoULmaTeS” in letters from various magazines.

It was frankly a mess and didn't make any sense, but Steve took it in his hands anyway. Him and Bucky were silent.

You started tearing up. “You hate it!!”

Bucky rushed to your side, cooing. “No, no, darling. It's beautiful.”

“This is fridge worthy.” Steve announced, and you smiled giddily.

With a loud ding! your attention was immediately averted, deciding to shout (in Bucky’s ear none the less) “MY STEW!!”

You tried to run to the kitchen but Bucky caught you. “Why don't you let Stevie and I worry about dinner. You relax.”

You pouted, not thrilled with this decision that both of your boys seemed set on.

By the time they came back to you with a dinner plate in hand you were passed out on the couch, drooling all over the couch pillow. Bucky put your plate in the fridge and Steve picked you up, cautiously bringing you to the bedroom.

You blabbered on about something in your drunken sleep haze, repeatedly telling Steve “I love you, I love Bucky, You guys are my favorite.” and so on.

“I know darling,” Steve smiled. “We love you too.”

How did you get so lucky?

[blackopals-world]

Boudoir

Model!FemYuu x Vil Schoenheit

It was for publicity. A raunchy shoot for the new romantic drama Vil would be starring in. It was Vil's idea to do a Boudoir shoot, so he can't complain about the results but he will complain about the bold photographer.

He asked for this. He wanted this. But some how this was far too invasive.

Vil visited her one evening after work. They had been friends for years but they were still "just friends". He often wondered how she put up with his nagging and dramatics but she would remind him every time why she stayed.

"You're not a burden." she'd say her hands rubbing his cheeks in that soothing way she always did.

Their relationship was unique. Neither desired partners nor temporary lovers. They had each other and then they had other friendships. But the desire was there.

Vil browsed some old albums Yuu had made. She often made scrapbooks of photos and other things she gathered. One page had pictures from the autumn festival they went to. They were sitting on a bench under a golden oak tree, tucked in close to one another with cups of warm apple cider in hand. They looked so good together. She had tapped one of the leaves and a festival ticket to the page.

Vil placed the book back onto the shelf before going back to browsing for another. Her modeling portfolios were numerous, they weren't anything he hadn't seen her wear in person. If he said he was beautiful it wasn't something didn't say often. He browsed them when she was busy like she was now. She was currently in the kitchen cooking and like always Vil was shooed out of the way. She hated him nitpicking the food.

One of the books stood out. It was much smaller and unmarked. He pulled it out to find a collection of black and white photos. Each of them were images of Yuu dressed in lingerie if she wasn't being covered in a thin sheet on her bare body. The high contrast brought out every curve of her body and the smoothness of her skin.

"Oh, you found my old boudoir album!" Yuu chirped, her head peaking out from the kitchen before disappearing.

Vil reflexively slammed the book close in embarrassment. His cheeks reddened feeling like he was caught red handed.

"Yeah, it was an accident. It's pretty good work though."Vil coughed as he tried to play it off.

Yuu hummed in agreement.

"Whispers Of The Night" had wrapped up filming a month ago and it was time to get ready for the press tour.

It was a steamy romantic drama with Vil as the main love interest. It was a difficult role with his co-star being difficult behind the scenes. The media manager wanted them to do another shoot to promote the movie but this time done in fewer clothes. His co-star, bless her, wasn't going for it. She had an image and part of that wasn't getting naked. It was perfectly fair to Vil if she didn't want to but the company wanted a shoot. His manager suggested that since Vil character was a Cassanova, they could just find another model as a stand in.

Vil immediately jumped to choosing his long-time friend and fellow model Yuu who agreed with little fan fair. Yuu requested a private shoot with only a photographer and Vil.

"I can't just have a whole studio staring at my chest while you bury your face in between." She said half joking.

"W-will that be happening or..." Vil mumbled as his imagination took over. Her breasts were larger than average and must have been very soft.

"Hmm, probably. Do you have any problems with that?" She asked nervously.

"No, not at all. I've never been a part of these shoots. I'll need an experienced partner to show me." Vil smirked as he watched Yuu turn red.

"Hardly more experienced than you. I still remember that underwear ad you did for Calvin Klein." Yuu teased watching Vils violet eyes dilate slightly. " No one shut up about it for months. All you had to do was take your shirt off and stock prices jumped to the ceiling."

Vil held his hands up in mock surrender, they could go back and forth forever about what they've done for the industry and what embarrassing things they've done.

"Okay my dove, arch your back more" Philip the photographer called over the lens as he focused the camera on her lace-wrapped chest

They were posed on a soft velvet-covered bed, her legs wrapped around Vil's waist, his hands on her bare hips, and his mouth pulling on the thin lace on her breast to reveal more of her ample cleavage.

Philip was too close for Vil's taste. He jumped at the chance to be that solo photographer and called Yuu his inspiration. Vil just didn't know inspiration was code for obsession. Rook at least respected distance but this guy was too personable.

"Focus on your client. A little less on her." Vil said stiffly as he shifted his hands up Yuu's back as she arched it upwards.

"Sorry! Sorry! I need her in the center frame." Philip said pitting the camera down and letting it hang around his neck.

"Don't worry Philip, he's just agitated. He wants attention." Yuu chimed rubbing her thumb across Vil's cheek as she caressed it.

Vil wrinkled his nose before remembering that this was just business.

"Yes. Yes. Okay now Mr.Schoenheit, please lean down and give my dear a kiss on her cute soft belly." Philip smiled gleefully as he held up the camera again.

Vil wanted to kill him. He was no stranger to people commenting on her body. He scrolled through enough of her social media feeds to see it but hearing this guy say it in front of him made him angry.

The blonde sighed but relented and unwrapped Yuu's legs. He pressed his lips to her stomach. Yuu squirmed slightly giggling as Vil repeated the action. His hand came up to her chest to press her to stop from moving.

"Excellent! Excellent! Such chemistry! My beautiful dove, you look ravishing like this. Now Mr.Schoenheit please hook you're fingers onto her underwear and remove them." Philip aimed the camera squarely on her lower body.

The couple stilled. This was not a nude shoot. A bit scanty but not naked. Neither moved.

"Here, like this." Philip said reaching out and hooked a finger into Yuu's panties.

Yuu jumped and pulled away but not before Vil grapped the photographer's wrist.

"No, you're done. You don't touch her and this isn't part of our contract." Vil said firmly and placed himself between Yuu and the photographer.

Yuu was embarrassed but agreed with Vil. The shoot was canceled and the photos were scrapped. Philip was disavowed for his lack of etiquette. It eventually came out that he wanted to take and sell photos of Vil and Yuu naked to the public. He wanted to model them like adult video stars.

Yuu apologized over and over because she had worked with him in the past and trusted him not to do something like this.

Vil accepted as long as Yuu let him vet the people she works with. He was too concerned with her safety.

In truth, he didn't blame Philip. Well, actually he did for everything except for his comments on Yuu's body. Those were true.

Their second shoot went much better but all the lingering glances and gentle touches became more heated once everyone went home.

[belovedjeju]

(Ain’t No Love) In This Club | Mafia!Kirsten Dodgen x Reader

Synopsis: You’re brought to a rich person’s club for a night of fun, only to catch the eye of a powerful, beautiful woman named Kirsten.

Tw: Cursing, suggestive. MDNI.

Any pictures used are for aesthetic purposes only and aren’t indicative of one’s body type or race. Any relation to any real person or place is purely coincidental.

Word Count: ~7.3k

It is a chilly day when Kirsten first lays her eyes on you. Clad in a long sleeve baby blue top, matching stockings, and a white miniskirt and heels, she can’t help but stare at you from the cafe across the street.

You’re waiting on something, your eyes darting back and forth on the street in between texting your phone. Your foot taps the ground as you wait, one hand on your hip.

“You should go up and talk to her,” a voice says, causing Kirsten to snap out of her trance. Looking over, she sees her friend and subordinate, Latrice, looking at her with a small smirk, laptop in front of her. Kirsten rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Oh please,” she says in dismissal, putting her cup down, “why in the world would I do that?” Was she embarrassed? No. In her line of work there’s no need for embarrassment, although she can feel heat crawl up her neck. She schools her face back to its neutral stance.

“As if you haven’t been staring at her for the past five minutes,” Latrice retorts as she swirls her spoon in her cup. “Come on, Kirsten. We’re only here for a few weeks at most, you might as well have some fun while you’re at it.” Latrice shrugs as she teases her, looking back over to you with curiosity in her eyes. “She is a cutie, isn’t she?”

Kirsten looks back over to you, still waiting patiently, before quickly looking away.

“I’m not here to ‘have fun’, Latrice. I’m here to close this deal and then we can go home.” At that declaration, Latrice rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, so you can do even more work. I know how much you love to torture yourself.” Kirsten scoffs in fake offense.

“Says you, of all people. Who did I have to convince to leave her office to even come to Korea with me?” She bites back, smiling as Latrice avoids her eyes.

“Fine, fine. Ms. All-work-and-absolutely-zero-play,” Kirsten rolls her eyes at her, and they both turn their gaze back to you. “Although, who knows if you’ll get the chance to see her again. Don’t want to let these opportunities pass you by,” Latrice says in a sing song voice.

You’re on the phone now, beckoning a guy over. He hands you a bag, and your thick hair falls over your shoulder as you check the contents. You smile, patting the guy on the arm before he whispers in your ear.

“Hmm, is that her boyfriend?” Latrice wonders out loud, and Kirsten narrows her eyes at the sentence. Latrice noticed her change in demeanor out of the corner of her eye. “Would suck for you. The one girl you’ve found any interest in is taken, that has to hurt– ouch!” Latrice rubs her arm after Kirsten delivers a light smack to it.

“Hush. You know nothing,” Kirsten says, downing the rest of her coffee.

“You could know something if you just went over there and talked to her, you know that, right?” Latrice grumbles again, looking at Kirsten now.

Before she can respond, her bodyguard taps her on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“Mr. Park has decided to set the meeting for tonight.” Kirsten raises an eyebrow, a small smile on her face. Park Taeyung, also known as Cobra, was a local, but very rich landlord of residential and entertainment buildings around the city. His clientele consisted of rich socialites, who were the only ones who could afford his services, and he made a pretty penny off of it. Though not a lot of people knew that he ran various gambling and strip clubs around the city, and tonight they were going to have a little chat about his business practices.

“Good,” she says back, “tell him to meet me at the Black Boar.” She turns to Latrice and cracks her neck, shaking off the boredom from her bones. “Well, Latrice, looks like we may be leaving Korea earlier than we thought.”

Latrice starts gathering her things, sending the bodyguard off to get their car. “Well, if all of this goes well…”

Kirsten smirks, “Oh, I have a feeling it will, and if not, then we’ll make it work in our favor.”

She looks over to where you were standing, only to find you gone.

Bummer.

~~~

The Black Boar is a club you could only dream of entering. You would hear rumors of the debauchery that goes on under the surface, rich people coming from all over to see it, and since you were in town, you would pass by it occasionally.

But when your friend Hye Jin invited you to the bar, saying that her boyfriend could get you in, you were skeptical –excited, but skeptical nonetheless–. You didn’t know what Hye Jin's boyfriend did for a living, none of your business really, but at times it did come off shady when you would hear Hye Jin describe it to you, with their black suits, and the suspicious amount of money he would bring in. But again, none of your business.

But you accepted the invitation to go out anyway, needing a break from working and wanting to party. Though, Hye Jin’s boyfriend warning you to ‘wear something nice’, and gifting you a very risky outfit to wear was not doing anything to ease your worries.

Long story short it was suspicious as hell.

But you just smiled when he handed it to you, looking at the brand on the bag and jaw almost dropping.

It was a House of CB bag, and the dress inside looked expensive as hell.

“This dress is the same cost as two weeks of groceries! What the fuck?”

You just couldn’t believe it. Well, you couldn’t show up to a rich person's club and wear cheap clothes, but hell, a damn near three hundred (American) dollar dress was not something to be given away so easily.

You wondered why you were given this dress in the first place. They could’ve easily allowed you to pick something for yourself, but instead he bought it for you.

Was he calling you poor, you scoffed as you walked into Hye Jin’s apartment.

Well, you are, but that doesn’t make it right!

You looked into the bag once you got in the guest room, pulling the dress out. It was pink, and very, very short, and when you tried it on, it barely stopped below your ass.

“Welp, hope no one needs me to bend over tonight.” You laughed at your own joke, doubting anyone would be getting laid tonight. If anything, you’d be sitting on the sidelines as Hye Jin and her boyfriend suck on each other’s faces.

You rolled your eyes, and started to get ready for the night ahead.

And trust and believe, your prediction was right.

Getting into the club was easy enough, you even got let in ahead of the line because Hye Jin’s boyfriend showed his ID or something. You weren’t really paying attention, too busy trying to get a bearing of your surroundings.

He led you down a flight of stairs, where you could hear music blasting from halfway down, shaking the floor a bit.

There were people everywhere, and amongst them you could recognize a few socialites, actors, and idols. They were pressed together under the flashing lights of the club, dancing, drinking, and oh, doing drugs as well!

“What the hell have I got myself into,” you muttered to yourself, following Hye Jin to a booth as her boyfriend went to get you both drinks.

And now, after two drinks and a shot, they had gone to make out on the wall, clearly abandoning you.

“Why the fuck was I invited here?” You take another sip of your drink, an Amaretto Sour, or at least try to, but you find that it’s empty. Another inconvenience to your night. But you aren’t going to let this night go to waste, so you decide to grab another drink, hoping that this one would get you to loosen up enough to go out on the dance floor.

Leaning against the bar, you wait patiently for the bartender to come over for ten minutes, having to almost scream against the loud music for him to hear you once he finally comes. You go to pay for it, but the bartender shakes his head.

“Already been paid for, Miss.” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, eyes darting around as you try and find whoever would have done this for you. The bartender points over to a group of people in a private area, huddled around a large table, clad in fancy suits and talking amongst themselves. They kind of remind you of the people Hye Jin’s boyfriend works with, from what you’ve been told. They look dangerous, and you want nothing to do with any of them.

But would you turn down a free drink? No, of course not.

Especially not after you make eye contact with a particular woman sitting in the middle of all of them. Her face is cool and controlled, silver hair slicked back and black off-the-shoulder dress hugging her body oh-so nice. She has brown skin, and her eyes seem to be piercing into you as she leans back into her seat, arm resting on the back of the couch.

God, she’s hot. And looking slightly familiar, too.

But still, you want nothing to do with any of them, so you avert your eyes and accept the drink wearily, and once you are done, it is off to the dance floor you go.

~~~

Kirsten is bored.

That’s the prevailing feeling in her body as she enters into the Black Boar, Latrice and her bodyguard following right behind her.

While she shouldn’t be taking this deal lightly, nor should she be so cocky as to think everything would work out in her favor –which it will, but still–, she could taste the air of New Zealand now, and she wants to get this over with as soon as possible.

She is immediately approached by a tall man in a suit, brown eyes not meeting her own as he bowed.

“Greetings, Ms. Dodgen. Cobra has been expecting you,” is all he says before leading them to a semi private section, which has Kirsten scoffing. She wasn’t the type to do business so out in the open like this.

The section has a large sofa and two arms chairs flanking it, with a glass table in the middle. On the sofa sits Cobra, a lanky man with glasses and thick black hair. From his appearance, you couldn’t tell what type of business he’s in, but that’s exactly what allows him to slip under the radar like he does.

Once he spots her, he springs up, a smile on his face.

“Ms. Dodgen! So lovely to see you here,” Kirsten holds out her hand for him, and he grabs it gently in his hands, kissing the ring on her finger as he bows. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me here on such short notice. I apologize for not setting a time sooner. Please sit.” He gestures to where he sat on the sofa, and guides her to her seat. Latrice stands beside her, one hand behind her back, the other holding a briefcase, while her bodyguard stands outside the section, guarding it.

“And why exactly are we meeting so out in the open like this?” She keeps her face bare of emotion, her voice level, just like she had always been taught to do.

Cobra falters under her stare as he sits down in the armchair beside her. “Well, Ms. Dodgen, I’d like to keep an eye on things out here, especially with the type of clients that frequent my club. I don’t want there to be any mishaps. But please, rest assured that no one will be interrupting us.”

“Your club, hm?” Kirsten questions as she tilts her head, tapping her fingers on the armrest of the sofa.

“Pardon?” Cobra squeaks out, breaking out in a nervous sweat.

“You said that this,” Kirsten points to the club around them, “is your club. But you don’t own it, do you? You just manage it.” A waiter pours alcohol into a glass for her, and she gives it to Latrice to taste test it for poison –she did have the higher tolerance between the two– grabbing the glass back once she gave the clear.

“Ah, yes… yes! I manage it. Though the owner hasn’t been around for years. I inherited the position from the previous manager, and business has been smooth ever since, ma’am,” He says as he fidgets under Kirsten and Latrice’s combined stares.

“And have you ever thought to look at whose name is on the deed for this building? Or any of the other buildings around here?” She takes a sip of her drink –Brandy–, never breaking eye contact with him.

Kirsten watches the gears turn in his head, the realization slowly appearing in his eyes, then the fear, and it brings her so much satisfaction. She likes it when people are afraid of her.

“I… I sincerely apologize, Ms. Dodgen. I did not intend to disrespect–” Kirsten holds up a hand to silence him.

“Your club, hm? Your clubs, your hotels, your apartment complexes, your country club, well, they’re all owned by me. My name is on the deed to each and every single one of those buildings, and just because I am out of the country, you decide that you could just run wild and do whatever you want, correct?”

Cobra looks like he would piss himself at this very moment, shaking his head in denial.

“Never! I would never do any harm to your business at all!” He quivers, and Kirsten hides her incoming smile behind another sip of her drink.

In mock disappointment, she says, “And imagine my shock when I discovered that the manager of my club, the club that I invested my hard earned money in to build off the ground, was taking money from me?” Cobra opens his mouth to speak, but Kirsten stops him, eyes full of venom. “Park Taeyung, if you interrupt me while I’m speaking one more time, I will cut your tongue out myself.” He closes his mouth without another sound. “Why, with all of the drugs, the prostitutes, and weapons passing in here and my other buildings, I should be making way more than I am now, and yet,” she slams her glass back down on the table. Cobra jumps in his seat. “And yet, I have to fly all the way to Korea to see what the fuck has happened to my money. Do you have any idea how much you owe me? 8 billion won from Q1 alone. How do you intend to repay me, Cobra?”

He sits there, silent.

“Speak, Cobra. You haven’t lost your tongue yet.” She takes pleasure in the fear on his face.

“Ms. Dodgen, I-I can’t possibly get that money to you now.”

She tilts her head. “And why not? Business seems to be going well enough around here. Why, from what I know you have to be bringing in around 50 million Won a week, and that’s at the club alone. I’m sure you can find the money somewhere, no?”

As he sits there, blubbering excuses to her face, that’s when she notices you, walking into the club. You look absolutely gorgeous in that pink dress of yours, your hair framing your face and legs on display for everyone to see.

God if she wasn’t working right now. She’d take you home with her and bend you over her lap–

Cobra’s voice is starting to annoy her, and she needs another drink.

She calls the waiter over, pointing to her cup to refill it. To Latrice it goes to test it, and then back to her.

She brings the waiter down to whisper quietly in his ear, ignoring Cobra and his excuses entirely. “You see that girl in pink,” she says, watching his eyes follow you as you throw back a shot of something. “I’ll cover the cost of whatever she orders for tonight.” She sends him away, focusing her attention back to Cobra.

“Frankly, Cobra. I do not care about what excuses you have. I want my money, and I’m giving you until the end of the year to get it.”

“Seven months? Please, ma’am, I need more time–”

“You stole my money in even less time, so I really don’t want to hear any of it.” She can only think of you right now, in that short dress of yours, dancing with her, under her, tangled in her sheets.

“And since you have no problem with using my club to do your dirty work, I have a task for you,” she runs a finger around the edge of her cup. “You will use this club to smuggle guns in from New Zealand.” She watches his eyes widen, and before he can protest, she continues, “I have a lot of willing clients ready to buy them, and you wouldn’t try and get in the way of that, would you?”

He stays silent once more.

“Yes, or no, Cobra?”

“N-No ma’am, I wouldn’t.” He holds his head down, avoiding her eyes.

She smiles, “Good boy, Cobra. Latrice here has already written up a contract for you,” she motions for Latrice to give him the papers, which she holds in her briefcase. She hands him a pen as well.

“How am I supposed to avoid suspicion with the cops?” Cobra asks, eyes darting from her to Latrice.

“You’re a smart boy. Figure it out,” Kirsten coos, watching him read it over. As he is doing that, her eyes roam around the club, looking for you.

You’re at the bar, talking to the bartender as he hands you your drink. The bartender points over to her direction, and she makes eye contact with you. You bite your lip, looking her up and down, and Kirsten fights the urge to smirk. You quickly turn away, practically downing the rest of your drink.

When she turns back to Cobra, he is finally signing the damn contract, and Latrice picks it up to put it back safely in its place.

“Now that this is all settled, get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night, understand?” Cobra nods, bowing and leaving with his bodyguard in tow.

With him gone, Kirsten leans back in the chair, letting out a sigh.

“God, that took forever,” she complains and Latrice looks down at her with a smirk.

“Too busy thinking about your mystery girl to give your energy to Cobra?” Latrice teases, poking her in the shoulder. Kirsten rolls her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal. “Oh please, don’t think I haven’t seen the way you were staring at her.” Latrice looks over, tilting her head as she observes you. “She looks like she’s having fun, too.”

Kirsten follows her gaze to the dance floor, where you’re located, watching you grind your hips on a random guy, arms wrapped around another person’s neck as you sway your body.

Kirsten’s mood drops even further.

She wants to be the one touching you, hand on your hip, riding up so slow as you grind to the music.

And it only gets even worse when she sees who exactly you were dancing with.

Snake, Cobra’s right hand man and business partner. He is an ass that has questioned her subordinates’ authority many times, before moving to work under Cobra, where he began trying to buy out anything Kirsten wanted to invest in, and she did not want to see him tonight, especially while pulling you against him with his disgusting hands.

“Latrice?” Kirsten calls out. Latrice hums in response. “What would be the consequences of killing him right now?” She asks, never taking her eyes off of you two.

“Hmm, well, we’d be damaging our ties to not only Cobra, but the entire elite in the club at the moment, possible trouble with the police, too many witness to shut up, possible bribing needed, wiping away phones of any proof that we were here,” she lists off, counting on her fingers.

“Aka, a shit ton of money,” Kirsten says, exasperated.

“Aka, a shit ton of money,” Latrice repeats back.

Kirsten sucks her teeth, motioning to Latrice.

“Well, since this went so well, why don’t you have the contract dropped off home, and go enjoy yourself.” Latrice raises her eyebrows at her friend, smirking down at her.

“Oh, I thought you would want to go home immediately,” Latrice's eyes flicker over to you, still dancing with those guys, though you were moving away from Snake. “Do you have… other plans for tonight?” Latrice couldn’t help but tease her, knowing that her boss was currently struggling internally.

“You could say that,” Kirsten replies, eyes scanning your figure as your hips move, dragging your dress up little by little. “Now go, before I change my mind. Oh,” Kirsten calls Latrice back, “and get that bastard away from her.” She tries to hide the annoyance in her voice, but judging from the way Latrice laughs slightly, she fails.

“You got it, Boss,” Latrice says as she jokingly salutes her, laughing as she walks away.

Kirsten continues to watch you from her perch, wanting so bad to take you for herself.

~~~

When you started dancing, every inconvenience of the boring night disappeared. You don’t worry about Hye Jin and her weirdo boyfriend, you don’t worry about the suspicious reason you were invited, you don’t even worry about the large possibility of your tits popping out of your dress with how hard you were moving.

Well, that could just be the alcohol in your system, but who cares? You’re not worried about anything right now.

Well, not exactly.

You see, pretty soon after you start dancing, this guy comes up behind you. And of course he does! You look good –you usually don’t toot your horn so much but you’re drunk and that makes you even more confident than usual–, so of course guys are going to be drawn to you.

However, this guy is just weirding you out.

He introduces himself as some sort of animal. Sloth? Seal? Snack –not an animal but whatever–? You don’t know, you don’t care to remember.

He starts to talk your ear off as he grabs your hips to grind on his own.

“You know, I’ve been watching you for a while,” he said, and you just hummed in weak acknowledgement, continuing to dance. “I’m glad you came tonight, and in such a pretty dress too,” you feel his hand slide down your back, pinching the dress in your hand. “I’m glad I asked Tae Seon to bring you tonight. I’ll need to thank him later.”

Who the fuck was Tae Seon again?

Ah, Hye Jin’s boyfriend, you remembered. You never bothered to remember his name because it was never any of your business –girl code or whatever–.

But why the fuck would he need Hye Jin’s boyfriend –you forgot his name again– to bring you here? To meet this Sombra guy? Was this some sort of set up? Is that why they left you here by yourself?

Oh, you knew he was a fucking creep, and at the first opportunity you were telling Hye Jin to break up with him.

You want him to leave you alone, but you really don’t want to stop dancing, because then you’ll just be bored again. Every time you move away, he follows, and you’re trying really hard not to make him angry and potentially murder you.

You try to make him take the hint by grabbing the guy in front of you and dancing with him instead, but he still hasn’t gotten the point.

Between the touches on your ass and feeling his sad excuse for a dick through his pants, you are about to give up and leave the dance floor when you are tapped on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Miss,” someone says to you in English. You turn your head to see one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen. She has dark skin, and straight hair that falls down her shoulders, and was wearing a very expensive suit. You recognize her as one of the people standing next to the woman that bought your drink. The dangerous looking people, and suddenly her beauty was kind of taking the sidelines as your fight or flight response was kicking in.

However, she is distracting you from that Soup guy, so you welcome her attention.

“My friend over there wants you to talk to you,” she points over to a section of the club, where the woman from earlier is sitting, sipping on her drink leisurely. You make eye contact, and the smile she gives you is sultry. And that’s when it clicks.

These are the women from the fucking coffee shop!

They were staring at you for the longest when you were waiting on your dress from Hye Jin’s boyfriend –you really gotta stop forgetting these men’s names–. Frankly, you thought when you saw them at the coffee shop they gave off cute, girls-next-door vibes, however their energies here were the complete opposite. More seductive, more…attractive.

The woman leans in your ear, whispering, “she thinks you’re really beautiful, too.”

Now, you can sense the danger coming off her from a mile away, and you would be stupid to give her any attention.

However! There is also a very annoying guy behind you not letting go of your hips, and you’re really tired of him, and this is the perfect opportunity to escape from him. And well, you’re drunk! Consequences be damned, you were going to have fun tonight by any means necessary.

You turn back to the woman next to you, smiling seductively.

“Alright, lead the way then,” you say, and follow her to the section, swaying your hips a little.

A big man in a suit blocks your way as you approach. His stare is intimidating, and him being taller than you was not helping.

Suddenly, a voice so beautiful resounds through the air, somehow cutting over the loud music and still sounding so clear, “Let her through.”

It’s the woman with silver hair, and at her order the man immediately moved out of the way. She beckons you with her finger, and your legs move on their own as you enter her space. Her eyes scan over your figure, and it’s hard for you to see what emotion lies in them. But she is so, so pretty, so you don’t feel like you’re on display when she stares at you.

But she must have been satisfied with what she sees, because she points to the chair across from her. “Sit,” she orders, and you do so without question. God, her voice is so mesmerizing. It’s commanding but still has a hint of flirtiness to it.

“What’s your name, pretty?” She asks, swirling the drink in her hand.

“(Y/n). What’s yours?” You try to match her flirty tone as you take in her figure.

Clear skin glowing under the lights of the club, long legs poking out of the slit in her dress which is fitting oh-so well on her. It’s complemented by an expensive silver necklace shining so bright, fitting the dip in her breasts pushed up by the dress. You meet her eyes at the end of it, and they’re like a siren’s, an endless labyrinth pulling you in. They’re filled with amusement.

“You like what you see?” There’s a hint of laughter and cockiness as she speaks, clearly amused at having caught you staring.

“Do you?” You retort back, cocking your head to the side. If she wasn’t going to answer your question, you certainly weren’t going to answer hers.

Her gaze starts to burn into you.

Kirsten takes in the way your breasts are pushing out of the top of your dress, how much it hugs your curves, how well the color compliments your skin, the earrings dangling so pretty from your ears. She takes it all in and decides that you’re a much better sight up close than from afar.

“Yes, I do, very much.” She leans back in the chair, almost looking down at you in a way that is incredibly domineering. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You raise an eyebrow at the question. “A girl like me can go wherever she pleases, no?” To that, Kirsten smirks.

What a cheeky girl. She’ll have fun breaking you down.

“I suppose so. Though usually I like to keep tabs on who comes in and out of this place, and you,” she sips out of her glass again, “are not someone I’ve seen before.”

You purse your lips, cheeks puffing slightly. “Yes you have,” you say matter-of-factly.

Now it was Kirsten’s turn to raise an eyebrow at your challenge of her word. “Pardon?”

“Earlier, when you were at the coffee shop. I saw you staring at me,” you smile coyly at her, leaning back in your chair. “As for our little meeting here, well, I guess we’re just attracted to each other, no? Fated to meet over and over again until one of us makes the first move.” You tap your thumbs on your fingers, trying to keep yourself grounded in the moment. It feels like her mere presence is making you dizzy, and you did not want to float away in front of this pretty woman.

Kirsten bites back the laugh that wants to come out. “Oh really now. And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here right now if you weren’t even a little bit interested in me,” your eyes meet hers again, “And you wouldn’t have invited me over if I wasn’t a little bit interested in you either.” You bite your bottom lip, and Kirsten laughs, actually laughs at your response.

Oh, she is really starting to take a liking to you.

“I guess that’s true enough. I’m Kirsten,” she finally introduces herself, and you smile.

You must’ve passed the test, and she deems you worthy enough to know her name.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Nice to meet you, Kirsten.” Now you’re flirting, because you really want to feel her on you.

“I could say the same thing to you, though I’m sure you don’t need to be told how beautiful you are, right?” And she’s flirting right back, wanting nothing more than to take you right on this couch.

“Hmm,” you say as you pretend to think, “from any other boring guy in here, no. But if it’s from you, I’d love to hear it maybe once or twice.” You lean in, letting her have a better view of your chest, and you're delighted when you catch her looking, a smile on her lips.

“And what makes you think you deserve it?”

Oh, now she’s got you, her words are going straight to your cunt. You rub your thighs together, feeling the start of your arousal forming.

This action doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirsten, and if anything it gives her more ammunition for later.

But you aren’t going to back down so easily.

“Maybe it’s the fact that I caught you staring at me several times tonight. Don’t you think I deserve a reward for giving you something nice to look at?” You subtly run your fingers up your thigh, making the hem of your dress rise. You catch Kirsten looking again.

“Maybe, but you only get rewarded if you’ve done something good, and you, my dear, have done nothing for me yet,” she reaches the bottom of her glass, and motions for the waiter to refill it.

You hum, observing the way her slender fingers move around the brim of the cup, and the slight lipstick stain from where she drank out of it. You wonder how you would look, covered in the marks she made on you, lips finding purchase on every part of your body.

“I’m sure that when you give me the chance, you’ll be thoroughly satisfied,” your voice drops to a seductive low pitch, and by God do you want to pounce on her.

Though you did not get the reaction you expected. She looks past you, pretty mouth forming a scowl as annoyance creeps onto her face.

She still looks insanely hot, but you hope that ire isn’t directed at you.

She turns back to you, face returning back to its seductive allure.

“How about we take that chance now, hm? How fast can you think on your feet?” The question floors you as it departs from the previous sultry conversation.

You answer anyways, “I’d say I’m moderately quick.” When you’re drunk maybe, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Her eyes dart to something behind you, and she speaks again, “Soon, there’s going to be this really, really annoying man coming over here to try and talk to me. Now, I can’t exactly get rid of him like I want to at the moment, so I’m hoping you can help me give him a little push away from me.”

You raise an eyebrow at the provocation. “And how will I be able to help, exactly?” Did she want you to do her dirty work for her? You aren’t the type to try and fight people.

“Just sit here and look pretty. If he sees how occupied I am, he’ll get the hint and leave. You just gotta make it look natural, ok?” She leans in, and runs a finger over your hand. Her touch is tantalizing, and it sends sparks all over your body.

“Perfectly fine with me,” you say as you stand up, stepping closer to her. She looks up at you, raising an eyebrow despite the amused look in her eyes. You push on her shoulder gently, watching her lean back in the chair.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice is sharp, and to anyone else it would sound cold and angry, but you hear the hint of seduction in there. It only spurs you on more.

“You said to make it look natural, right?” You straddle her hips, dress riding up as you do so. “Better to start now rather than when he gets here, no?” Your faces are dangerously close, and you can feel her cool breath as it hits your lips, can smell the alcohol she had been drinking. You're sure she can smell it on you, too.

A smile works its way onto her face, and she takes her thumb and drags it over your lips. Feeling daring, you stick your tongue and give it a little lick, and you can hear her breath hitch.

God, Kirsten is going to ruin you.

You lean down to Kirsten’s neck, smelling the perfume she uses, strong scent invading your nose and causing your body to become jelly. Her presence is simply suffocating. You are becoming high off of her.

“Go on,” you whisper in her ear, “touch me too.” Your hand roams up and down her arm, dragging your nails on her smooth skin, leaving slightly red marks in your wake.

You feel her hands drag down your back, bunching your dress in her hands. She reaches further, grabbing handfuls of your ass before giving it a good smack.

You yelp, not expecting the sting, but you can’t deny that it only made you even hornier for the woman beneath you. One of her hands is now on your thigh, running up and down.

You can’t help the way you mewl when she drags her fingers on the inside of your thigh, extremely close to where you want her to touch you. Her hand inches closer and closer to your core, but you aren’t going to leave yourself at her mercy.

Your face meets her neck again, lips connecting to her pulse. Despite the situation she’s in, her heart still beats steady, and you find it unfair how your heart is about to rip out your chest.

You litter sweet, soft kisses on her neck, leaving lipstick marks in your wake, and you revel in the way she hums, though her hand never stop roaming your body.

That is, until an annoying, douchey voice pierced through your ears.

“I just need to talk to her!” Whoever it is, his voice is getting on your nerves, and right now, you’re much more focused on the woman in front of you.

You continue pressing kisses on her jaw, gripping her waist in your hands. The annoying man’s voice fades in the background as you continue to touch each other.

Kirsten sighs above you, readjusting you in her arms. She looks down at the intrusion with absolute boredom in her eyes.

“What is it, Snake?” You start sucking a mark in her neck, and Kirsten really wants this man to leave.

Snake stands there, blocked off by her bodyguard.

“Ms. Dodgen can we please talk,” he asks, but Kirsten ignores him in favor of tilting your head up to face her, pushing some of your hair out of your face.

Kirsten asks, “What’re you doing after this, hun?” You let out a giggle, pouting a bit.

“You aren’t planning on leaving me, are you?” You drag your fingers on her neck, and Kirsten grabs your hand and kisses it.

“Of course not, baby. Couldn’t leave a pretty girl like you all alone now, can I?” You let out another giggle, nuzzling her cheek with your nose.

“It’s very important Kirsten,” at the mention of her first name, Kirsten freezes, grip on your thigh getting harder. Her gaze turns deadly as she looks down at Snake, who is looking at her with a smirk.

“Do you really want to lose your life here, Snake?” Her words make you freeze and look at her from the side.

Her features are sharp and focused, and with how close you are, you can feel the danger roll off of her in waves. It makes goosebumps rise on your prickly skin.

But it also makes you extremely horny, despite your body telling you to run.

But you have a job to do, so really her threatening someone’s life was not really important right now.

You continue kissing on her neck, hands playing with the straps of her dress.

“I’d be willing to when it comes to my woman,” he says, eyes flickering to you.

If it were possible to frown any harder, Kirsten would have.

“Your woman? You couldn’t possibly mean this one right here.” She moves your hair over your shoulder, giving him a better view of you kissing her neck.

“She was promised to me for tonight,” he says, eyes roaming all over your figure, “don’t you think I should get my money’s worth?”

Money? What the fuck does he mean by that? Is this because of Hye Jin’s stupid boyfriend? Is this why you were given this expensive dress?

As you connect the dots in your head, Kirsten scoffs down at him.

What is it with men claiming things that belong to her as their own? It’s making her sick.

Kirsten picks up her drink, tapping you on your shoulder to look up at her.

“Here,” she says, putting the cup to your lips, where her lipstick mark is. You take a sip obediently, licking your lips afterwards.

Kirsten watches your throat bob as you drink, not looking at Snake as she answers.

“Currently, Snake, I don’t care what you paid for. She’s not going anywhere with you,” she puts her glass back on the table. “I’ve taken quite a liking to her, you see.” She plays with the hem of your dress, pushing her fingers under it just a bit.

“I didn’t take you for the type to try and break a proper business deal, Kirsten,” you feel her nails dig into your thigh, and you hiss into her ear. She is getting angrier. You dig your nails into her shoulder in return.

“You don’t know me at all, Snake, so I suggest you tread lightly when referring to her so flippantly,” Kirsten says through gritted teeth. You kiss her jaw, readjusting yourself on her lap so you’re straddling her thigh.

“When are we getting out of here,” you whine into her ear, wanting so bad to grind your hips on her thigh. You can feel her muscles flex under you and it’s driving you crazy.

Kirsten turns back to you, tapping you on the ass.

“We’ll leave as soon as I take care of this, ok?” You finally turn around, making eye contact with the man that’s been taking Kirsten’s attention away from you, glaring at him slightly.

Through your drunken haze, you see him staring at you with sickening lust in his eyes.

“You remember me, babe? Come down from there and sit with me for tonight. I paid a lot of money for that dress you’re wearing and I intend to cash in on it,” he tries to order you.

You scoff, turning back to Kirsten with a pout.

“Baby,” you say, loud enough for that Sake guy to hear. Kirsten hums, “who is this loser?” You let out a giggle as Kirsten laughs.

She really fucking likes you, a lot.

Snake’s ears turn red in anger, though neither of you care enough about him to look and see it.

“Nobody you need to worry about, love,” she says, waving her hand in dismissal. “Snake, I’m done with you for tonight. Leave now, while I’m being kind.”

Snake scowls, moving to rush you both. “Listen here, you dumb whore–” Before he can say more, Kirsten’s bodyguard punches him in the stomach, and pushes him to the ground.

“Get him the fuck out of here, now.” Kirsten orders, not bothering to watch as her bodyguard takes Snake away from her section.

You smile, dragging a hand down Kirsten’s chest.

“How’d I do?” You ask, leaning back again. You don’t want to move yet, and from the way she’s pulling you closer to her, she doesn’t want you to move either.

“Absolutely wonderful, my dear. I even got a good laugh out of it,” She caresses the back of your neck, pulling your head back to bare your neck to her. You feel her breath ghost over your neck, and her tongue licks a long stripe against your pulse. Your breathing becomes heavy, and you start to buck your hips against her thigh.

Her lips meet your jaw, hands grabbing your hips to still them.

“I think I deserve a reward, no?” You say, now face-to-face with her. Your lips are barely an inch away from hers, and you want to close the gap so bad.

“I absolutely agree,” Kirsten smiles and grabs your chin, pulling you down to meet her soft lips.

You sigh into her mouth, hands gripping her shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself.

The kiss is much softer than you expected it to be, more gentle. But you wanted more, needed more.

So you press your lips harder against hers, and Kirsten, not one to step down from a challenge, meets you with equal force. She sneaks her hand into your hair, giving it a tug and reveling in the way you gasp. She uses that opportunity to push her tongue in your mouth, eliciting a moan from you. Her hands starts moving your hips again, making you buck on her thigh.

Only too soon does Kirsten pull away from you, and you whine at the loss of her touch.

“Why don’t we get out of here, huh? This couch isn’t big enough for what I want to do to you,” Kirsten says, smirking at the pure want on your face.

You can only nod rapidly, following her out the club in pure anticipation for the night ahead.

[familyvideostevie]

match made in heaven

steve loves to celebrate the little things with you, even if it's just new shoes | 1.2k, fluff, fem!reader, this is so silly but so is steve, appearances from most of the crew! <3

"I'll see you later this week, okay?" Nancy calls as you get out of her car. "Tell everyone I say hello."

"Thanks for the day, Nance." She waves at you and pulls out of the mostly deserted Family Video parking lot -- you spot three bikes, a skateboard strapped to one with bungee chords. The sun has just set, what was a hot Indiana day cooling to a sweet summer night. You're feeling light and happy after a fun day out with your friend, and the evening promises to be more of the same. You get to go home with Steve. The thought, though routine by now, still makes you giddy.

You hitch your bag over your shoulder and open the door to Family Video and familiar bickering of your favorite teenagers fills the air. Max and Mike seem to be arguing over which Halloween movie they should get in one corner of the store, while Dustin and Lucas are throwing Milk Duds into each other's mouths over the romantic comedy stacks. They glance your way and let out a chorus of "hellos" before returning to their activities.

"Oh, thank god," says Robin from the front desk. "A responsible person."

"Hi, Robin," you laugh. "How long have they been here?"

"Half an hour! I think. Feels like years though." She looks a little frazzled but happy to see you. "Hey, don't drop any of those! Keith will make Steve hunt any mice we get," she yells at Dustin. You wince a little at her volume. "Sorry," she says. "How was your day with Nancy?"

"She says hi," you reply, swinging your bag onto the counter before leaning back to survey the store.

"Hi back," Robin interrupts, picking at her cuticles. "Why didn't she come in?"

"Had to get home to call Jonathan." Robin hums in acknowledgment. "Anyway," you continue, "the trip was good. We went to the mall up north and I actually got something I'm really excited abou--"

"Is that my girl?" calls Steve. He's emerged from the back room, and you turn towards his voice, finding his eyes bright and searching for you.

"Hi, Steve," you laugh. Robin rolls her eyes but is smiling. Your boyfriend's happiness seems to be infectious.

"Oh, now you come out to help," she says. "He's been talking about you all day, wondering what you and Nancy were up to." He shrugs at her teasing and jogs the last few steps around the counter to give you a smacking kiss, fingers curling into your belt loops to tug you closer.

"Hi, baby," he says quietly.

"Hi, yourself." You hear a gagging sound and turn around to see Mike pantomiming being sick, Max with her hands on her hips next to him, eyebrows raised at his antics. "Like you and El don't do the same thing," she reminds him.

"What're you guys doing here?" you ask. Usually they'd be soaking in the fading sunlight and making mischief somewhere. "Are El and Will already in town?"

"They come this weekend, so we're stocking up," says Dustin. He and Lucas have wandered over now that Steve's arrived, but the Milk Duds have mysteriously disappeared.

Lucas zeroes in on you. "Hey, I like your --"

"New shoes?!" Steve cries. You flush a little, pleased with yourself for changing into them, your sandals in your bag. That was the purpose of today's outing with Nancy after all, to finally get the new sneakers you'd been saving up for. You'd told Steve about them weeks ago but are happy he's noticed. He grabs your hands and encourages you to show them off a little, flicking your heel back and forth on the carpet. Robin whistles and Dustin even claps.

"These are the ones you saved up for, right?" Steve says, eyes twinkling. You nod. "We kinda match, babe." He puts his own shoe next to yours, the red swoosh lining up with the light blue swoosh on yours, though yours are much brighter, shiny with newness. "Do you like them?"

"Of course she likes them, Steve," says Dustin, exasperated. "She bought them, didn't she? I bet they weren't cheap, either." Steve shoots Dustin a glare but you laugh.

"I knew we'd kind of match, but it's just because we have good taste. Plus, mine are cooler." Yours are white, like Steve's, but they've got blue and green coloring on the heels as well as the light blue swoosh logo. Robin snickers and hops onto the counter, swinging around so her legs are dangling next to you.

"I have to get you to buy boots next so we can match." She kicks her black lace-ups with glee.

"Any more pairs of shoes and they'll take over our bedroom," Steve grumbles, but he's smiling. You're kind of surprised at how excited he is. They're just shoes, after all, but Steve has always been like this. Ready to support you, to encourage you, to love you. About everything from moving in together to buying new shoes. It's a nice feeling, a warm one, to see him full of joy after he's seen so much darkness.

"Can you skate in those?" Max asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. You realize you've been staring at Steve, and he's smirking at you.

"Next time we practice, I'll wear them to test them out," you say, ignoring the blush you feel on your face. She nods at you, pleased. Her approval sparks a flurry of comments from the boys, and all the attention has you curling into Steve's chest.

"Alright, children," shouts Steve, "check out your shit so we can go home."

"You just want to go be gross, or whatever," says Mike, but he obeys and brings the movie he's holding -- Halloween II, looks like -- to the counter. Robin hops down to check him out.

"That's exactly what I want to do," says Steve, brown eyes back on you. He winks. He corrals the teens out in a chorus of goodbyes and promises to stick together as they bike home before flipping the sign to CLOSED. When Robin ducks in the back to grab her stuff before Steve drives her home, he pulls you in for a hug, chin resting against your temple.. You wrap your arms around his him, taking a deep breath. He smells like...Steve. Like everything good in the world.

"I really do love your sneakers," he says, quietly, swaying you a little bit. "Proud of you for saving up and going for it. Don't know if they're cooler than mine thought."

"They're just sneakers, Steve," you chide. "It's kinda weird to be so excited about them."

"I'm excited about you," he corrects, pulling back from your hug to look at you. "I'm always excited about you. And for you." You scrunch your nose at his sweetness and he gives it a kiss.

"I guess it's just the small things," you wonder out loud. "The small things that are really the best things. When you're in love." He nods, agreeing with you. After so many big things, his favorite moments are ones just like this, with you. His hand comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear and you sneak a kiss onto his palm.

"I love you," he says, "small things, big things, all things."

"Jesus, you guys are so sweet I need to go to the dentist," groans Robin, flicking the store lights off for good measure. "Can we go now?"

Steve blows a raspberry at her. "Yeah," you laugh, "Let's go home."

want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both! reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[thevelria]

Good girl! (NSFW/teasing!mafia!Gojo x fem!reader)

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This smut shot is the filthiest thing I've ever written lol Enjoy~ Also thank you for the lovely @ladycheesington for helping me again. You're the best! <3

Warning: teasing, name calling (good girl, baby, princess etc), phone sex, spanking etc

Wordcount:1911

Author's note: this one shot slightly refers to this story in the beginning.

Taglist: @romantichomicide95 @randompurr @imagineadream (if you want to be tagged just let me know)

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Gojo left for a business trip almost two weeks ago. Even if he wanted he couldn’t bring you with him. “It could be dangerous, darling.” he said. After you were kidnapped he went feral and tried to avoid any situation that seemed even a tiny bit dubious.

You missed him terribly, your body also missed him way too much. The longing, the yearning you felt was becoming unbearable. 

“Only one more night and he’s home.” you murmured under your nose, while walking back and forth in the living room in only a turquoise silky robe. 

Meanwhile your phone buzzed at the coffee table. The expression on your face changed in a split second as you opened the text from Satoru.

“I’m sorry love. It will take a bit longer. But I’ll be home soon, I swear. Probably at the end of this week.”

“End of the week?” your eyes widened. “No fucking way. I can’t wait for that long, I can’t. I want him so bad.” you closed your eyes, trying to calm down. Throwing a tantrum was childish and ridiculous and you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. Gojo’s body was a drug to you. His muscled back, those perfectly built abs, his round bum and his huge biceps, even thinking about it made you drool. You were horny and upset, so you wanted revenge. As you stormed into your closet your eyes were eagerly looking for that specific set of lingerie. The one, which always drove Gojo wild. 

An evil smirk appeared on your face as you slowly put on the black lace babydoll with matching panties and stockings. It followed all the curves of your body, fitted just perfectly. The lace palmed your breast teasingly, creating an illusion of showing everything, yet nothing. 

“I miss you terribly, baby. Are you sure you can’t come home earlier?” you sent the text to him. Just right after you attached a photo of you posing in the lingerie for him. 

Not even a minute passed, when your phone started to ring. Gojo called you and you were more than happy to pick it up. Only if you would have known better…

“You were a naughty girl.” Gojo’s raspy voice echoed through the device. “Sending a picture like this, when you know I can’t touch you. Tch, Tch… do you remember what I said last time? When you were teasing me way past my limits? When I was begging you to stop, but you didn’t?” he took a deep breath before continuing. “Next time you tease me I’m going to punish you and you can’t do anything, but obey. Do you remember, love?”

“I can’t help it.” you whined “I miss you so much! You should reward me instead of any kind of punishment.” Your cheeky answer made him smirk.

“Do you love it when I obey, yeah? Even the thought of me letting you overpower me makes you wet. I know that, darling.” he clicked his tongue. “What if tonight I show you how it feels when you obey? Will you be a good girl for me and do as I say?”

“Mmhm…” That was all you were able to press out from yourself. Gojo’s dominant side drove you insane every single time and you were eager to be a part of his game.

“Good. Good.” his low tone sent shivers down your spine. “Walk to our bedroom, yeah? And lay on the bed with your back pressing against the headboard. Then all you have to do is close your eyes and listen to my voice. If you’re a good girl tonight then I’m going to show you how good it feels to be mine.”

“Fuck, baby. That’s so hot. Please keep talking.” you bit your bottom lip as you climbed on the bed as he said. 

“It depends on you, sweetheart. If you do exactly as I say, I’ll keep going.” he smirked, while taking a desperate breath. He was truly getting in the mood as well. He licked his lips before continuing. “There’s one rule, though.”

“What rule?”

“If you touch yourself I’ll stop and everything will end.”

“Huh? Baby, that’s mean! That’s so mean.” you argued. Your body was already in heat and keeping yourself from any kind of touch seemed impossible.

“Do you understand the rule?” His cold, strict voice showed how serious he was. Hearing a whispered yes from you made him smile, because he knew you were going to be obedient this time. “Good girl! Now imagine that I’m growing harder and harder for you. Because you look amazingly beautiful in that lingerie. I love the way it follows your body, I love the way your breasts spill from your bra and your nipples peek through the lace.” 

Gojo cleared his throat the second he heard your panting, your desperate breaths. “Honey, you sound so weak now.” he teased. “You see? No matter what, in the end I’m able to put you in your place, right?” he chuckled with so much sass in his voice.

“Please, don’t be mean to me! Please!” you let out a desperate little moan.

“Nah-ah… Are you trying to tempt me with your moaning? It’s not going to work. I’m sorry, darling, but no matter what I’m not going to give in. You’re not going to break me this time, so keep your hands away from your sweet little pussy and enjoy the abstinence.” he hummed. “Now imagine me sitting behind you. As I slide my huge palms, which you love so much, up and down your thighs, your tummy. As I kiss your neck and bite it to mark you as mine.” 

You kept silent, while biting your bottom lip so hard it started to hurt. You wanted to be nothing but a good girl for him. 

“Can I at least touch my boobs?” your desperate voice made his body tense. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. The torture was real this time. 

“You’re such a good girl for asking, but you know the rule. No touching, just listening.” Hearing your offended huff caused him to giggle. “I’m going to be honest with you, I’m getting harder and harder, because I remember how much you love my dick. Do you love it, yeah? That’s why you are always so eager to jerk me off and suck me whenever you have the opportunity. Say you love it!”

“I love it, ‘Toru!” your voice cracked “I love it a lot and I want it so bad right now!” you kept whining.

“I promise that later I’ll let you ride me. You did such a good job all along, so it’s going to be your reward. Do you want to ride me?”

“Mmhmm…” you let out the most desperate sigh ever. 

“Then open your eyes baby!” he smirked as he walked into the bedroom with a massive boner in his pants.

“Satoru?” your eyes widened “You said…agh, you’re such a fucking liar!” you jumped off the bed. But he kept silent and walked up to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you into his chest. 

“Are you ready to keep going?” he whispered into your ears. You felt his hot breath on your skin. 

“Please.” you looked at him with huge puppy eyes.

“Good. Then get on all fours for me and take off your panties, okay? I still need to teach you a lesson, so you won’t want to tease me next time.”

At first you wanted to argue, maybe for a second, then you changed your mind and did as he said. You didn’t care anymore, you wanted to feel him as soon as possible and you were willing to obey.

The first spank felt like a sharp thunder exploding on your skin. A low hiss left your mouth, but you kept yourself together. One more slap and you felt as if your bum was becoming number and number. Two more slaps and you actually started to enjoy this weird pain mixed with the euphoria of hearing his dirty talk.

“Look at you, you are such a good girl. Bearing with all the pain like it was nothing, swallowing back your screams. I love how strong you are. I love you, my obedient little princess. I love you, my cruel mistress. Daddy’s getting really hard for you, you know.”

Gojo calling himself daddy pushed you over the edge. It was the last drop in that almost full glass anyway. “Please, let me touch you, please. I can’t take it anymore. I want to feel you!”

“Turn around.” he smirked as he climbed on the bed naked. “Come, sit on my lap.” he tapped his now bare thigh. It took only seconds for you to get on him, caging him between your thighs. “Lean closer” he whispered “and kiss me as you slide my dick inside of you. But don’t move! I’m gonna control everything for you. You were such a good girl, so I’ll take care of you.”

The kiss became more and more intense. It was sloppy, rough, it was animalistic. 

“I want something from you.” Gojo broke the kiss. “I want you to say thank you for every mark I left on you.” He grabbed your hips, his fingers dug into your flash. While he started to thrust into you painfully slowly, he was waiting for your reaction. “Say, thank you daddy. C’mon, say it!”

“Thank you, daddy.” you moaned out loud as you felt his massive cock moving in and out of you. 

“This is what you want, right?” he sped up a tiny bit. “And I’m doing it, because I love you.” he pounded you with even more intensity, holding you still in a rough grip. “Do you love me, baby?” his breath became uneven and heavy “Tell daddy you love him!” 

“I love you, daddy. Please, go faster! Please!” you lost your sense and turned into a whining, moaning mess.

“You want me to go faster? Then you better start screaming! Show me how much you want my dick!”

His name rolled from your lips repeatedly. Unholy sounds echoed through the air as the skin to skin contact became louder second by second.

“That’s it.” he growled “That’s my good girl.” he ran his fingers through your hair and pulled your head aside. A heavy moan left your mouth as he bit into your neck, licking your skin up and down, while keeping the pace as fast as possible. “Say you love it! Nngh…Say it!” he was about to lose his control. 

“I love it! Please don’t stop and fill me up. I want to feel your hot cum inside of me!” you bounced up and down on him, while talking in delirium.

“Fuck…” he hissed “Baby, I’m so close! Daddy’s gonna cum. Daddy’s gonna cum.” he mumbled under his nose as he felt he was about to reach his high. “Cum with me, please. Please. I want you to cum with me!

The second he felt your walls tightening around his shaft he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He dropped his head back and enjoyed the way you screamed his name while your orgasm bursted out as well. 

Heavy panting, uneven breaths left both of your mouths as you tried to calm down. You smiled and threw your hands around his neck.

“I really love you, ‘Toru!”

“I love you more, princess!” he rested his sweaty forehead on yours. 

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

Lingerie (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Fluff)

Short Summary: You have a surprise for your girlfriend Ellie.

Words: 1633

”Close your eyes!” you yelled for the forth time. Ellie let out a chuckle followed with ”Yeah, yeah”. She closed her eyes again, letting her back fall against the couch she was currently sitting on. ”Hands over your eyes” you added. Ellie frowned, eyes still closed ”Why? It’s not like I can see out of my closed eyes” she stated, ”I don´t trust you” you jokingly stated, referring to her countless times of peaking already. Ellie was shocked. She was even going to start an argument with you about it, but she quickly gave up. She let out a sigh before putting her hands over her eyes ”Are you happy now?”. A small smile appeared on your lips before mumbling ”Very”. Your eyes automatically wandered to Ellie’s hands as if it’s their only purpose. Matter of fact it´s your favorite body part of hers, apart from her beautiful eyes and her… you know. Even in a nonsexual way, you could look at them for hours. Letting your fingertips grace over the pronounced veins. You remember the first time you told her about your fascination for her hands. She thought it was a bit weird. Usually you would say your favorite thing on your partner is their smile, or eyes, or something cliche like that. But she never made you feel bad about it. Absolutely not. If anything she’ll tease you about it. Sending you ”innocent” pictures of her pointing at something, aware of just how it affects you. Even though Ellie thinks it’s just because of her talented fingers, but it's more then that.

”Can I look now?”, Ellies question snapped you out of your thoughts. You quickly ran to grab the bag you left in the hall. ”Not yet” you answered as you took off your hoodie and undershirt in one go. Ellie lets out an enjoyed groan, but obeyed. You pull down your washed out jeans along with your underwear, replacing them with your new ones. Despite the lack of size options they sit just right. You slide the straps of the matching bra along your arms, hooking it on. Ellie always helped you putting on your bras, so you struggled for a bit before finally getting it on. Your trembling hands wasn’t to much help either. While being on patrol with Dina a few days ago, you looked over this abandoned clothing store. As you were walking though the shelfs, gun held high, you spotted this lingerie set. You took a closer look and completely fell in love with it. Hoping Ellie would do so too. Before Dina would met up with you, you a grabbed the set in a size you hoped would fit and shoved it in your backpack. You hid it in an unrelated bag in our closet til you felt like it was the right day. Which is today. You slide on the stocking holder, even though you didn’t have any stocks to go with it. You took a quick look of yourself in the mirror you had set up in the hallway. You combed your fingers though your hair, trying to fix it after your hectic cloth change. Your hands then wanders over the new fabric, your eyes tracing over your half naked body. You tried to shove any negative thoughts to the side, but some still slipped by. To say that you where confident would be a joke. The relationship between you and your body has been rocky. It’s not that you hate your body, you just wished you could have a different one. You can’t even count how many times you have thought about taking a pair of scissors and cut of the parts you don´t like. It sounds brutal and even though you try to deny it it’s probably true. It’s just you never thought someone could find you pretty. Especially not the way Ellie does. The girl is on her knees for you whenever you want. Some say you’ve got her around your finger, but you don´t like to refer to it like that. 

Your first initial thought while looking at the mirror was to rip off the lingerie set and throw it out the window. Leaving it to rot while you locked yourself in your shared bedroom to cry. But if there’s one thing Ellie has taught you it’s to never feel ashamed of yourself. So you torn yourself away from the mirror, thinking it will only cause you more damage then good if you kept standing there. With shaky legs you walked up to Ellie til you where right in front of her. Even though she couldn’t see you a smile still appeared on her face. You took a deep breath before saying the words Ellie has been waiting for ”You can look now”.

Ellie´s jaw dropped the second her eyes landed on your decorated body. A silence took over the room, making you even more anxious. Just say something, you thought while you were nervously playing with the clips of the stocking holder. But it was simply cause Ellie couldn’t get anything out of her mouth. The sight in front of her was making it hard for her to focus on anything else. To give you an answer. She has seen your body before, even with less clothes then now. But she somehow always gets baffled whenever she sees your beautiful body and falls in love with you over again. ”Where’d you get this from?” Ellie finally broke the silence, still in ”aw”. ”In a shop while being on patrol. I-I can take it off if you don´t li-” you turn around to get back to your pile of clothes in the hall, but Ellie grab your wrist. You turned back to look at her. ”I love it” she proudly stated along with a smile. You felt your shoulders fall down a little as you could finally relax. ”Do a little spin for me?” Ellie asked while letting go off your hands. You did a little swirl. Ellie looked you up and down, admiring the beautiful girl in front of her. Her whistling made you giggle, getting flustered by this attention from your pretty girlfriend. Your eyes fell back on her when you were done. ”Aw, baby. I can’t believe this is all mine” Ellie whined as her right hand traced your left thigh. You eyed her tattoo. You always thought it was so cool. It really suited her. Matter of fact, it was thanks to it you two first interacted. At a traditional celebration the Jacksons had every year you saw her at a bar. You went up to order a beer, intentionally choosing the spot beside her. While waiting for the bartender you took a peak at her only to notice her already looking at you. You lowered your gaze to avoid the redness on your cheeks from getting any more pigmented, and as you did you noticed the tattoo on her forearm. ”Nice tattoo” you said while trying to keep eye-contact with her for longer this time. She seem to be in deep thoughts by the flinch she made after my comments. ”Uh…thanks” she answered, mentally slapping herself for not saying anything more extraordinary. ”Is there a cheesy meaning behind it too?” you asked along with a teasing smirk. Ellie chuckled a little. She looked around the room, making sure no one was around before spilling the whole truth. You were shocked then and still til this day you can’t believe she told you that… after only a few minutes of talking. After confronting her about it later in your relationship she claim it was because you seem trustworthy. You used the alcohol in your body to let out the words you wouldn’t dare say in a sober state, that night. Especially not to such a pretty girl like this one. Your continues flirting throughout the night proved to Ellie you didn’t just want to be friends. So she asked you for your number before you left, and you’ve been talking nonstop since then. 

Ellie raise up from the couch. Her right hand traced your left cheek as her thumb rubbed the apple of your cheek. You looked up at her, mesmerized by the pale green eyes looking right back at you. The other hand she left to rest against your hip. ”Fuck, I´m so happy to have you”, a smile took over your face as your eyes starts to get glossy. ”I love you, Ellie” you admitted, not able to put in words how much this girl in front of you meant. ”I love you too” Ellie answered before attaching her lips against yours. Her chapped lips felt wonderful against yours, making you wish this will last forever. Ellie got more into the kiss, holding your face with both her hands now. You trace your hands along her forearms, feeling the muscles move when she grabbed you with more lust. Ellie moved her hands to your things, lifting you up. Not breaking the kiss. You wrapped your arms around her neck, combing them thought the short hair at her neck. Ellie pulls away from your lips ”Now lets get you out of that lingerie, you sexy girl”. You giggled, ”I thought you said you liked them” you teased back. ”Yeah, I do. But I like you more without them” Ellie stated while carrying you into your bedroom.

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Author´s Note: Hey! This was my first Ellie Williams fanfic! I hope I did decent. My obsession for Ellie is back, stronger then ever! I swear to god this girl is questioning my sexuality. I thought I could do a more fluffy/cute one shot apart from my other horny-ass fics. Therefore the different style. If you have any requests for Ellie x Reader that you would like me to write, please let me know!

[maxislvt]

I Love You More Than You Know

Summary: Wanda loves you so much. It was something made clear mere hours after you two made your relationship, and she continues to make it clear everyday she can. Extravagant gifts, the sweetest words, and the softest touches - she showers you in them. It's even the way she holds you close and whispers the sweetest words in your ears. She loves you, no matter how much her brother teases her for it.

A/N: What if I told you I posted this on my other account and then this account got fixed like two days later? Cause that's exactly what happened!! Anyways, have fun being friends with Pietro.

Warnings/Tags: Making Out, Possessive Behaviors, Semi serious conversations, I'm bad at angst.

"Part 1"

Morning shined through your curtainless windows at a solid 6 o'clock in the morning. Normally, you'd have an extra two hours of sleep before classes and you honestly should've had more since you were home now, but there was no way you'd go back to sleep with sweat and cum covering your body. Not even the stupidly muscular and beautiful star baseball player you were wrapped in could keep you from breaking in your new shower.

After a rather strenuous game of what could only be called reverse human Tetris, you were freed from the sweaty confines of your lover. You stretched your limbs and turned to face your sleeping lover. It was crazy. Today wasn't the first time you've had to wriggle your way out of Wanda's arms to start the day, but this one felt different. This morning was your first morning being hers. No passive aggressive arguments in front of your friends or sneaking around just so Wanda could have her way with you. It was just you and Wanda against whatever laid outside your front door. Though that literally could've been anything, Wanda's words had done an amazing job at soothing your nerves.

You decided not to worry about what was to come next and focus more on what was happening now. For now, all you had to do was wake up Wanda, shower, and then make breakfast for the two of you. You were suddenly grateful Natasha had insisted on stocking up your fridge and Clint's reminder you buy new toiletries. Unfortunately, there was no life saver to help you wake up Wanda. That girl slept like a pile of magically unwavering bricks and it was seemingly genetic. It was something you figured out rather early into your friendship with the twins. Pietro managed to sleep through whatever lusty endeavors Wanda put you through and Wanda seemed to sleep through every house party Pietro had ever thrown. Though that knowledge didn’t immediately deter you, it certainly barred you from any ethical means of waking her up. First, you tried being sweet. Softly kissing Wanda’s cheeks and rocking her back and forth. You even tried deeper kisses, but that almost got you pulled back into the mess of limbs you were in before. When softness failed, you upgraded to annoying her. You sporadically poked at her stomach and sides but only received a displeased groan. You rolled your eyes and decided to just let her sleep in.

You turned around and headed to the master bathroom. It was on your top three things to finish decorating on your first day moving in, but had remained neglected due to your little interruption the night before. Not wanting to risk a fatal injury, you began unpacking and organizing items from cardboard boxes and plastic bags. Towels unrolled and folded to look aesthetically pleasing, bath mats rolled out and beat into shape, organizers maliciously filled just the way you liked and all the beautiful shade of dark green had grown to love over the years. After a half hour of constant rearranging and slight shifting of objects, you completed your decorating. You spent little time appreciating the hard work and immediately turned to the huge bag of less fun stuff that went in the bathroom. Though it was nothing more than toilet paper, hair products, and whatever else you use for cleaning yourself, there was a strange giddiness in your chest. It seemed your heart was several steps ahead of your brain because it didn’t make any sense until you got ready to put the wash clothes and toothbrushes in their proper places. The multipack of toothbrushes conveniently had one red and one green toothbrush. The wash clothes were the same way.

It made your heart skip a beat.

It was almost embarrassing how fast Wanda had wiggled into your heart. Technically, it took like six years, but you were strangely overjoyed to show it. You two had yet faced the outside world but something in you was so sure about. Even if it was chessy and Wanda was sure to tease you for it, you were happy. The time it took you to shower, brush your teeth, and wash your face, your head spiraled with all the other ways you and Wanda could match. You were sure Wanda would proudly wear any of your college merch or even swap shoelaces if you asked. It would definitely take a bit of pouting for her to wear matching Christmas pajamas with you, but you were planning for that even in early August.

Eventually, your fantasizing came to an end and you wrapped up your morning routine. You put your lounge clothes on and went to the kitchen. You were thankful Pietro hyperfocused on the kitchen and put everything up just the way you liked. Starting with the way your utensils were organized down to the way you liked your sodas stacked in the pantry. It was good considering you were far too hungry to waste time organizing. You quickly grabbed random breakfast foods and got to work. It was peacefully silent except for the sound of eggshells cracking and sausage patties sizzling. However, the peace was quickly interrupted by excited footsteps running towards you at an alarming speed.

“No morning kisses until you at least brush your teeth and wash your face,” You said without looking up from the pans in front of you. A giggle escaped your lips when you heard a frustrated sigh followed by distancing footsteps. They returned only moments later causing you to turn your head in disbelief. “If you expect me to believe you brushed your teeth that fast you’re- oh…”

Wanda had the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen. If it wasn’t for your now unrepressed love for her and the red and green toothbrushes she was excitedly holding, you would’ve rolled your eyes and went back to cooking. “Okay, I totally didn’t, but that’s not important,” She said, giddy from excitement. “What is important, is that your bathroom looks amazing and I think this,” she paused to wave your toothbrushes in your face, “is the most adorable thing I have ever seen and you’re literally the cutest person on earth. We're like strawberries…except the red goes on top! ” Her excitement quickly faded as she revealed the electric blue rag, dry towel, and toothbrush she had hidden behind her back. “However, this does not match and I think they would look much better in the guest bathroom- or even the trash can.”

You only sighed and shook your head at Wanda's antics. "I love you, but I'm not kicking your brother out of my life because you're jealous." You turned back to the stove, popping the yolks of the eggs so they'd flip easier. "I'll get a darker shade of blue, but his stuff is staying in my bathroom." You plated the sausage and eggs, then moved to your fridge to find something to fill the emptiness on the plates. "Also, bring some house shoes next time you come over," You grumbled softly as Wanda walked back to the bathroom. After you toasted bread and chopped fruit, breakfast was ready. Unfortunately, you were trapped in a back hug and couldn’t enjoy the fruits of your labor. “Is there a problem?”

Wanda shook her head. "I'm never going to step on your independence since this is your house, but I'm pretty sure I owe you breakfast in bed," She said as she wrapped her arms around you. She buried her nose into the nape of your neck before taking a deep breath. It wasn’t the first time she’d been so close enough to smell you — and now it certainly wouldn’t be the last — but it was addictive. Her grip on your waist only tightened as you began to wiggle. “I’ll let you go in a second, just let me hold you,” She mumbled as she pressed her lips against the side of your forehead. She nuzzled deeper into your neck until her entire face was in the crook of your neck. Her eyes flickered to the two plates sitting on the counter. Your favorite with the unusual addition of strawberries halved and grapes plucked off the stem. “You’re cheesy.”

You rolled your eyes before scooping the strawberry on Wanda’s plate onto yours. “Yea, and you don’t have any strawberries!” You blew a raspberry berry before grabbing your plate and dashing out of Wanda’s hug. Fortunately, your speed outmatched Wanda’s strength and you escaped to the dining table and curled up in the chair to protect your sides from any of Wanda’s potential tricks. You relaxed a little bit when she sat down next to you and began eating, but kept your legs close to your chest as you ate. It was impractical, but strangely comfortable.

The two of you ate in silence — something you normally would appreciate. However, today you just couldn’t. When the lack of noise settled in, your thoughts started to run rampant and not even the fluffiness of the eggs could ease them. Even if it didn’t happen today, you’d have to tell Pietro eventually. The others would surely be accepting. Just happy to see you in love and on the path of settling down. However, Pietro was forever critical of any potential girlfriends. If you weren’t wrapped around his sister’s finger and too shy to pursue a relationship at the time, it would’ve been considered cockblocking. It was unlikely he’d hate you for it, but that didn’t make it much easier.

“We don’t have to tell him.”

“He’ll find out eventually.”

“Then, he’ll just have to deal with it.”

That made you frown. Pietro never kept anything from you, it wouldn’t be fair to keep anything from him. However, the fear of ruining your friendship with him was strong. It wouldn’t be as bad if you just avoided the topic. Love Wanda the way you wanted, but never talk about it. Pietro wasn’t stupid , so it wouldn’t last for long, but it would give you sometime to come up with an explanation.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Though it was entirely Wanda's idea to keep your relationship secret, she did not make it easy.

Wanda was always an over-looming figure in your life. Whether it was a house party, a study session, or just hanging out with Pietro at their parents' house — Wanda was never too far away from you. She was looking out for you. Pietro did his best to keep you safe, but even he'd get wrapped up in a sticky situation or two. So, Wanda would simply pick up where Pietro left off. It didn't take long for her to learn your habits of working yourself to bone or drinking way more than you could actually handle. Wanda would always help you, regardless of how much you yelled at her or refused to eat the snacks she laid out.

However, Wanda wasn’t always a sweet guardian angel. She was desperate to have you and sometimes that meant playing dirty. It was rare, but there were times Wanda couldn’t control herself. Toying with you was an urge that could not be contained. You could play hard to get and she could chip away at that little facade until you completely fell for her.

She’d have you trapped in a corner and begging for mercy — and you’d love it, but that was during house parties with god knows how many people drunk out of their minds and focused on a hundred other things. Not a decently sized gathering filled with people you knew and would definitely notice if you slipped away with Wanda. You remembered most of her tricks. Ghosting her hands over your body or bumping into your backside whenever she was packing. If you kept close to Pietro or at least grouped together with enough people, you’d mostly be safe. Still subjected to sneak touches and the occasional groping, but better than being bent over in the guest room of your best friend's apartment.

Unfortunately, Wanda did not take avoidance well.

Mere hours after arriving, Wanda had sent you a text instructing you to leave five minutes after she did. Five minutes wasn't enough to shake anyone's tail, but she had clearly grown impatient. You replied to her with a simple 'in a minute' and continued to chat until you felt it was safe for you to slip out. You were only stalling for a total of ten minutes, but had been gleefully caught up in conversation with Carol at the front door for an extra five. Fifteen minutes seemed to be entirely too long to keep your lover waiting seeing as you were practically yanked into the back seat of her car.

"It's really funny watching you act like you don't belong to me."

You couldn't form a proper response with the way Wanda's hands started guiding your hips to grind against her. Her teeth had sunk into your neck and left a smoldering hot burn in their wake. "Wanda, we're going to get caught," You whimpered and attempted to push her head away. Despite your protests, your hips seemed to have a mind of their own. They bucked and rolled against Wanda's no matter how much you hated it. "And, I don't belong to..anyone," you barely managed to get out

"You don't seem to care," Wanda mumbled against your neck before continuing her tortuous treatment. A hand slipped underneath your shirt and dragged its nail down your back. "Just because I'm a secret doesn't mean you can give me the cold shoulder and get away with it." Her nails dug harder into your skin until you yelled. "You belong to me. That's final." Her hot tongue licke up the coloum of your throat before leaving more love bites on the sensitive skin. She'd barely done anything to you and you were practically melting in her hands.

"We can do this at home, just," Your bargaining was cut short by a kiss. Wanda had enough of your defiance and made it known. Her tongue pushed past your lips without hesitation and was quick to claim every inch of your mouth. It was like she wanted to eat you whole. The scariest part was that you'd let her. For a moment, all you wanted to do was be hers. If that meant being fucked in the back seat of her car while any of your friends could see.

Unless, of course, that friend was Pietro who stood less than a few feet away from the car and could tell exactly what was happening.

Wanda had been too focused on ruining you to notice him. She only pulled away when you completely tensed up underneath her and hadn't moved an inch. "I'm sorry, I thought you were just being…" She slowly turned her head to whatever caught your attention and soon she was frozen solid as well. "Fuck," She grumbled under her breath. Her gripped on your waist instinctively tightened as you began opening the door. "No, don't go out there, I'll talk to him- I said wait," She yelled as you dashed out of her car and chased after brother.

Sprinting for softball could never prepare Wanda for the speed that you and Pietro had control over. The two of you had left Wanda in the dust and had only a few minutes. There was no telling how much time you two had alone, but there wasn't much to be said.

Your mind was racing. Of course he'd find out this way. Part of you thought you'd have at least a week to come up with something. There was no telling how it was going to end. At best Pietro would be a little tense. At worst neither twin would associate with you. It wasn't fair to you, but somehow entirely your fault. "I'm so sorry, I really should have told you sooner. I just felt bad and- and I wasn't sure how to bring it up. The last thing I wanted was for you to hate me or think I only hangout with you for your sister. I'm the worst best friend you could've ever-"

Pietro wrapped his arms around and awkwardly patted your head. "I wish you would've told me, but you're not a bad friend for not telling me all your business." His grip tightened before you fully pushed back. "If you're happy, then I'm happy. That's what's most important." Pietro was rarely one for serious conversations. It was a wonder he hadn't burst into laughter the second he thought of Wanda's attempt to keep up with the two of you. However, you were clearly upset. It was a rare sight. Frustrated, irritated, or overwhelmed, but never upset. Especially not with him. "Nothing is ever coming between us. Unless you show her our special handshake, then I'm not talking to you ever again."

You were shocked. Pietro had always been laid back. Even when you were about to crack under pressure and turn into a human diamond, he'd be chill as the deep blue sea. You expected at least a little pressure from him. Maybe even a speech about keeping yourself safe in the claws of his conniving sister. "Pietro, I…I've been hooking up with your sister for like…at least five years! This is serious, I shouldn't just get away with that," Your voice began to strain. To say you were confused was an understatement. You'd seen first hand how protective Pietro could be — be it for you or his own sister. How could he be so casual about this? "If you were fine, then why'd you run away!?"

"You think we'd be able to talk like this with her between the two of us?"

Fair point.

"I didn't think it was that long, but you two are not as secretive as you think." Pietro rolled his eyes once Wanda had finally caught up to the two of you. "As I was saying, it was pretty obvious when a certain someone was coming to the practices every day and also painfully early." He accented his point by grandly gesturing to Wanda, who was struggling to catch her breath. "Especially since she obviously hadn't been gifted with speed as great as ours."

Wanda scoffed as she stood up. Her breathing was still uneven, but she had to pretend it wasn't as she began mouthing off to her brother. "Sorry. The only cardio I like is fucking your- ow!" She took a sharp breath through her teeth when you elbowed her in the side. An apology was softly mumbled in your direction. "If this little hostage situation is over, I'll be taking my partner now." Wanda reached for your hand only for you to snatch it away last minute.

"You knew this whole time?"

"'Pietro, is Y/N coming?' and 'I'm not going to dance if Y/N isn't going to be there.' I'd be an idiot to not think something was up."

You sighed and ran your hands through your hair. "Okay, fine. I'm going home," You spewed out as you snatched Wanda's keys from the loop of her belt.

The walk back to her car was somehow quicker than running away from it. The only thing quicker than your feet were your thoughts. How many people knew? Was it that obvious? Had everything been super awkward but you were just too stupid to notice it? Your brain repeatedly combed through every memory you had while you sat silently in the car. There was no way you were that stupid.

Not a word escaped from your mouth during the ride home. Wanda hated it. You looked insecure and there was no reason for you to be. As far as Wanda was concerned, you were absolutely perfect. Despite that, she decided it was safer to drive in silence. It wasn't a far drive, but with her foot heavy on the gas, she has you home in mere minutes. A heavy sigh escaped her nostrils once she had finally parked in your drive. She doesn't know what to say. The lack of words left at least five minutes of brooding silence before she spoke up. "I, uh, understand if you want to be alone tonight…" She understood it very well. You were overwhelmed, tired, and upset. It was completely fair if you wanted alone time. That didn't make the idea hurt any less. Wanda had her own apartment and both agreed that neither of you would get keys to the other's apartment until after a few months, but she spent a week straight in yours.

"Please spend the night, I need you." Your voice was buried under the weight of all your thoughts. "You don't have to spend the whole night, but please just a few hours at least."

Wanda's hand was quick to grab yours. Her fingers interlocked with yours and she held on as tight as she could. "I'll be here for you as long as you want me. I promised I'd be there for you through anything and honestly I didn't do a good job at that tonight." The car suddenly felt like a trap. Nothing but metal and uncomfortable plastic that kept her from holding you close the way she wanted to. "You can keep me locked up in your house forever if it'll keep you happy."

"Well, I hope you think my apartment is a cozy prison." You smiled as Wanda walked you through the front door of your apartment and to your bedroom.

There was more silence, but this was comfortable silence. Nothing needed to be said as Wanda carefully removed your clothes and dressed you in pajamas. There was no need to ask for cuddles considering Wanda knew what you wanted immediately. You two laid in the center of your bed underneath the covers. With your head buried into Wanda's chest and legs tangled up, your worries melted away.

Even if Wanda couldn't be there to protect you, she could definitely be the one to make all the hurt go away. The conversation about your relationship with the others would certainly be long, draining, and full of teasing, but for now all you had to think about was the warmth surrounding your entire body. Not even the impending game of reverse human Tetris could ruin your safety.

Only seven words were worthy of breaking the peace settled between you two.

"I love you."

"I love you so much more."

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Ten.

Huge thanks to the few of you still invested in this story. I'd love to hear from a few others who are reading it, too, if you'd be so kind as to leave a little comment?

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,430

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Baby love, you’re quiet,” he called, walking around from the lounge and into the kitchen after finishing his call, finding the space empty. “Jade?”  

Silence. Had she gone for a bath, and he not noticed? Checking the bathroom, he found nothing but an empty room, the same with the bedroom and her mini studio. Going back into the kitchen again, he pulled his phone out, scrolling to hit her number. It was while the call was simply ringing out that he noticed a letter next to her untouched glass of wine, picking it up. As soon as he began to read, he cut the call, concentrating on the contents.  

With every word he read, his heart sank with a led weight, his forehead creasing further. “Lady, you’ve gotta nerve.” he whispered into the nothingness of the kitchen, putting the letter down again and picking his phone up. Still no answer from Jade. Fuck.  

He knew exactly what this would have done to her, bringing back an event he knew she hadn’t truly processed and moved on from, seeing the bomb that had been Polina suggesting even for a second that any of it had been her fault. Her son was a steroid junkie whose actions had finished his relationship; Jade could have been absent for more than she was, and his choices wouldn’t have been her fault. It made his anger prickle sharply to read even the mere inkling of anything to the contrary.  

What was more, her words would only solidify the fact that Jade more than likely did blame herself for what had happened. If she didn’t, then it would be very untrue to form, but he couldn’t know for sure since she hadn’t ever really opened up to him about it beyond one brief conversation. All he did know was that emotionally, she was now likely climbing the walls, and out on the streets alone.  

Picking up his keys, he left the apartment, wracking his brains as he strode down to the elevator, trying to remember her haunts. Conveniently, most were in SoHo, just a five-minute ride away from her building, Adrien hopping into a cab. He tried The Back Room first, then The Library, both missing the blonde his eyes tried to pick out among the patrons.  

Lighting a cigarette outside of the second location, he stood and thought for a few moments, taking stock. He was a mixture of worried for her welfare, and slightly pissed off that she hadn’t gone straight to him about it. She always said how much she trusted and loved him, but these actions didn’t back that up.  

It wasn’t about him, though.  

Feeling his insides begin to coil further, he paced back and forth slowly, trying to remember other places where she might go, her little ports in a storm. Of course. 

“Where we heading, my guy?” the cabbie he hailed asked as Adrien climbed in. 

“Shark Bar, Nolita.”  

“Can do, bud.” 

It was colloquially named as such because of the shark motifs that hung upon the wall, the actual name of the establishment Spring Bar, a place he’d visited with her one afternoon shortly after Christmas. They’d sat at the bar sinking tequila shots before going back to hers and having horny, drunken sex for most of the evening, and at the bar was exactly where he found her upon entering, sliding onto the stool beside her.  

It took her a moment to look up from her large glass of iced Jack Daniels and notice him there, sheepishness crossing her sad features as she cast her eyes downwards with a sigh. “Am I really that obvious?” 

“Yep.” His tone was a little flat, Jade looking back up at him to see his brows knitting. “When you bolted, you went in the fucking wrong direction.” The bartender then arrived, placing a napkin down. “Stolichnaya, double. No ice.”  

“Right away.” 

He nodded in thanks, turning back to her. “I don’t need to ask you if you’re alright, because I know you’re not, and I won’t make this about me being pissed off that you ran away instead of coming to me. Saying that, though, we need to talk about this. You need to talk about it, the contents of the letter that fucking thoughtless woman felt compelled to send to you on her asshole son’s behalf.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Well, you kinda have to,” he spoke, taking the glass placed before him and sinking it in one, requesting a refill he immediately received, “because I’m done with watching it chip away at you, the way you stuff everything down and refuse to talk about it. And don’t you dare say it doesn’t, baby. You might be able to hide it from others without consequence, but you can’t with me.”  

Her lip began to wobble, feeling discomfort slither against her insides, like an eel angrily thrashing within her belly. It should have been comforting, that the man next to her really, really saw her, but to Jade, it was scary as hell. “Not here.”  

“Alright,” he spoke, tipping the contents of the glass down his throat before he stood. “Drink up.” 

She did, sliding off the stool as he left a handful of bills atop the bar, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly, thumb rubbing a soft circle. It told her that yes, while he was pissed off with her, his love still shone through the brightest.  

It didn’t stop her from being scared to death, though, her mind immediately sending support pillars to the emotional wall she’d built within, desperate for fortification. They arrived back twenty minutes later, Jade walking straight to the sideboard where she kept her liquor bottles, picking up the bourbon and a couple of glasses. “Do you want a drink?” 

“Nope,” he spoke, flopping down on the couch. “I want you to sit here and fucking tell me everything you’re pushing down, because I know I’m not getting the full picture. I also want to know why you don’t deal with it, deny yourself the perfectly fucking human act of properly acknowledging whatever it is that’s bugging you.” 

“I do deal with it, just differently,” she shrugged, sitting down next to him. 

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “No, you don’t. I know it, so does Jen, too. I don’t get it either, because short term annoyances, you speak your damned mind immediately! You deal with it right there and then, and I admire you so much for it because in that respect, you’re definitely more forthright than I am. When it hits you deeper, though, you run from it,” he explained, Jade feeling her heart beginning to pound.  

“I don’t run, I -” 

“Yes, you fucking do! Quit being in denial over it, Jade!” Immediately, he felt bad for yelling at her, seeing her eyes turning glassy. She had to hear it, though. He’d reached the end of his tether at watching her beginning to crumble from it. Her meltdown and fleeing her apartment that evening had been the final straw for him. “I don’t want to yell at you about this but fuck, baby. You can’t keep torturing yourself like this.” His eyes searched hers for some kind of answer, but she wasn’t forthcoming, gripping his hand as she rested her head down on her knees.  

She had to tell him. Somebody other than her had to know what she held within, what she hadn’t spoken of to another soul, that nobody other than she and her ex knew. It was with bravery, but crippling fear that she took a deep breath and finally spoke it aloud.  

“Three months before Ivan beat me, I found out I was pregnant. We wanted to wait before telling anyone just to be sure, so we did, but sadly I miscarried at six weeks. He blamed me and my busy work schedule, said it was my fault. I think that’s ultimately why I got a beatdown, because he couldn’t keep in how livid he was that our baby died before it was even a baby at all.”  

A cold wave washed right through him, pulling his hands from hers, wrapping her in his arms instead. “Fuck,” he breathed, stroking her hair, strong hands gripping her tightly. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, baby love.” She rested her head back to her knees, sobbing quietly while reliving it all, feeling comforted by the warmth of his arms and the kisses he laid against the centre of her back.  

“You cannot for one fucking second think that it was your fault, you can’t,” he spoke softly, making her sit up. “It wasn’t, and it didn’t warrant you being attacked by him. It wasn’t your fault, Jade.”  

“But it was, though!” she cried, shaking her head. “Even if it wasn’t anything I did or didn’t do to lose our baby, I should have seen it coming. I should have gotten out of there quicker and then maybe I wouldn’t have ended up with pins holding my cheekbone together! I should have known he’d never forgive me for it! I should have seen it coming with Jen as well, instead of ignoring that she was spiralling because I couldn’t deal with it, and now, now I’m terrified I’m going to miss something coming with you that means ultimately, I’ll lose you.” 

There it was, her emotional dam finally bursting, Adrien seeing what had been lurking within that she’d so desperately been trying to ignore. She blamed herself for things she truly didn’t have any control over, and then couldn’t deal with how that made her feel, attempting to do the impossible and thus finding absolutely no resolve over what was emotionally crippling to endure. It was hard because she made it hard, rather than facing it rationally.  

“Honey, you’re not going to lose me because of something you didn’t see coming. If we have problems, at least from my perspective, I'll be straight up and tell you. I’m big on communication,” he began, Jade cutting in. 

“But what if I mess it up somehow and that doesn’t happen, and...” 

“Hey, come on. You’ve gotta calm down. The only way you’re gonna mess things up is if you keep on doing this, having meltdowns because you can’t deal with everything you avoid, and then it bubbles up and you don’t have a clue how to see your way through it. You have to trust me enough to be there for you, talk to me about things, not see it as weakness. Because I think you do, don’t you?”  

She couldn’t meet his eyes, Adrien knowing he was finally breaking down a wall, gentling a little as he took her hand in his again. “What Ivan did to you was not your fault. Jen OD’ing was not your fault. Thinking you could even control that for a second won’t lead you to anything good, but talking about it until you feel better, even if it isn’t to me – although I’d prefer it if you did – will lead to you to good things.” 

She winced a smile, shaking her head. “How the hell you want to be with an emotional headcase like me, wow. I don’t know. I’d get out now if I were you.” 

“Nope, won’t be doing that,” he spoke, hand tightening on hers, “and you can fucking stop throwing bombs at me because you don’t know how to deal with something good happening to you. Because deep down, you don’t think it’s real unless it’s a mess.”  

Another brick tumbled free from the wall. 

“You’re right,” she finally acquiesced, “I do that. I see myself doing it, and I try to stop myself. I think I push the self-destruct button, to stop myself from becoming hurt. Can’t trust that you’re not going anywhere when all the signs point to the fact that you are. But my fucking brain won’t let me see that!” 

Yet another brick fell. 

He took a deep breath, moving to crouch before her, taking her other hand in a tight grasp, too. “Do you want to know how much I’m in this for the long haul? I’d marry you right here and now if I could. You’re it for me, Jade. You’re the one. You’re right, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Her mouth dropped open, her eyes softening as they rounded. “You would?” 

Resting his forehead to hers, he nodded. “In a fucking heartbeat. I’m not saying that putting a ring on your finger will fix all of your stuff. That won’t be easy, either. I need you to see, though, how much I truly am here for you and intend to be for the rest of my life, because I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you. That part, loving you forever, fucking easy as hell.” 

With those words, granting him the kiss he sought, her wall finally came tumbling down.  

“Thank you,” she breathed when they parted, stroking his face, “for being real with me. I think I’ve gotten away with a lot I probably shouldn’t have because people think I’m scary, so don’t challenge me. You’re the first person who ever has.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, I still think you’re scary, too,” he joked, kissing her again, “but I love you enough to call you on your bullshit, because I want you not to be so stressed by it. You have two panic modes, Moo. Wound tighter than a watch spring and crying uncontrollably.”  

“I know, but I’m not either of those right now,” she spoke, drying her eyes. 

He leaned to catch a tear with his lips, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Maybe a little of the latter.” 

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “but you just told me you wanted to marry me, and it wasn’t a proper proposal or anything, I know, but still.” 

He lifted his chin a little, his smile crinkling his eyes. “Would you like it to be?” When he saw nothing but sheer delight reflecting back at him, he lowered down to one knee. “Jade Lucia Burton, you are the most incredible, beautiful, sweet natured, hilarious, amazing woman I’ve ever met. Will you do me the total honour of being my wife?” 

How was this real? How had she managed to find this lovely, patient, kind, holy grail of a man, and have him love her so much that after just six months, he wanted her to be his wife? She didn’t know, but what she did know was there was only one answer to his question. “Yes, Adrien Nicholas Brody. Yes, I will marry you.” Pulling her close, they entwined happily, sharing kisses and whispers of love, the rest of the world falling away into insignificance.  

“Secondary question; are you completely sure? Because I’m just a nerdy dude from Queens and you’re entirely too cool for me,” he spoke, prompting her giggles, Jade stroking his face. 

“Erm, have you met the ridiculous calamity that’s me?” she cried, kissing him again. “I’m saying yes before you come to your senses!” 

Their laughter grew, Adrien moving to sit back at her side. “Okay, third question. Will you marry me the day after tomorrow?”  

Her eyes practically fell out of her head. “What?” 

“I did just tell you I’d do it right now if we could, but you have to wait twenty-four hours after you apply for a marriage license. So, will you? Shall we do something crazy while we’re both still young enough to appreciate it?” 

She could barely keep in her excited giggles. “And people call me mental!” 

When they finally went to bed that morning, neither could really sleep, instead enjoying themselves with much less restful pleasures before arriving at the courthouse as soon as it opened in order to be issued with a marriage license. With that all-important piece of paper secured, everything seemed to move in a whirlwind.  

They decided not to tell their loved ones until after, wanting it to be just for them, deciding they could do a blessing or similar with their family and friends there at a later date. Adrien had suits in abundance, travelling back up to his house upstate to fetch one the afternoon before, leaving Jade behind to search for something suitable to wear. She wasn’t very interested in a big, traditional dress, a very unfussy woman where her fashions were concerned.  

After an unsuccessful shopping excursion, the dress she chose was actually something she’d never worn, finding it hanging at the back of her closet, still bagged and tagged. It was long, iron-grey silk designed by John Rocha, timeless and elegant.  

“Well, isn’t she perfect?” she spoke fondly upon pulling the garment from its bag, seeing it had a few creases. It was nothing that a steamer and a little patience couldn’t fix. They’d managed to get in last minute at city hall the following morning, a cancellation meaning they would be married at nine twenty-five, both up and out of bed by just coming up to seven. He was ready way before her, waiting for her by the front door. When she walked out, looking so beautiful, he almost cried.  

“Are you absolutely sure a total knockout like you wants to get hitched to me?” he spoke, nuzzling her nose with his, kissing her lips softly. 

“Never been surer of anything in my life before.” 

“Good,” he chirped, reaching into his pocket, “now you can have this.” Taking her left hand, he pushed onto it something Jade hadn’t even thought about, not even while they were shopping for wedding rings the day before, her mouth falling open. There upon her finger, he’d placed the most beautiful engagement ring she’d ever seen, a cushion cut diamond mounted on a platinum filigree band. It was a hundred percent to her taste, exactly what she would have picked herself, should he have asked her.  

“When did you get this?” she cried, covering her mouth with her other hand, watching it sparkling upon her finger as she tried not to cry, save ruining the makeup she’d fussed over for an hour. “Baby, I love it so much. It’s perfect!”  

“Yesterday, while you were across the other side of the jewellers looking at bracelets,” he smiled, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers. “Glad you like it.” 

“I love it,” she confirmed again, leaning to kiss him. “Thank you.”  

One cab ride later and they arrived just on time, checking in with the front desk, all ready to get hitched. Or so they thought. 

“Will your witnesses be arriving shortly?” the lady asked them, both staring at one another with wide eyes. Shit. 

“Um, oh blimey,” Jade grimaced, starting to fan herself with her hand. “I think that’s the one thing we forgot! Shit!”  

“Well... I mean I could be one?” the woman suggested, turning her head back to the small admin area behind the desk. “Cece? You fancy coming to watch a couple of beautiful, famous people get married?”  

The aforementioned Cece looked up from her computer, her mouth falling open. “Oh my Jesus, it’s you two!” Her surprise made them laugh, watching as she flew out from her chair. “I do, yes! Anything to help out!”  

“That’s really kind of you both, thank you,” Adrien spoke, Cece looked very excited as she took them in, noticing something as she pointed at Jade. 

“Hold up! You don’t have any flowers, hon. All bride’s need a bouquet. Wait, wait.” Moving across the space, she raided a vase containing a large bloom of gardenias and a lot of greenery, pulling everything out and giving them a shake to remove the excess water, a handful of tissues offered by Lauryn, the front desk lady. “Wait, wait, I have ribbon in my desk somewhere!”  

After all drying and securing was done, they were ushered down to the courtroom, Jade feeling her insides fizz with excitement. It might not have been the wedding day she’d dreamed of, always saying she’d do something small and lowkey when she finally met the right man, but at least she had the latter of that perfect. Because he was.  

Yes, most certainly, he is the man who will come into your life and never leave it. 

Those words, spoken to her three years before by a psychic who she hadn’t put any faith in at all, they couldn’t be more accurate. After a mere ten minutes, exchanging rings and vows, they were pronounced husband and wife to the cheers and applause of Lauryn and Cece, their first kiss captured by the appointed photographer.  

“Can you do something for me?” Adrien asked, holding her face in his hands. 

“Anything.” 

“Love me forever?” 

She smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. “Always.”  

Truly, she had never loved anybody more in that moment than she did her husband. They left Manhattan behind later that morning, Jade piling her bags into his car and heading up to Cleveland with him, ready to see the place she would now get to call home.  

All along the journey, he kept looking to his side, beaming a smile as he laughed, taking one hand off the steering wheel and gripping her thigh. “I can’t believe it. You’re my fucking wife, Moo!” 

“I really bloody am!” she replied, grinning widely. “It’ll be such a cool story to tell our grandkids one day, won’t it?” 

“It will, yeah,” he confirmed. “So, how many kids do you want us to have?” 

“As many as you want to give me, sexy mans. Ideally two, though. Depends how much it hurts.” 

“Two sounds good.” 

“But not just yet,” she was quick to follow with, “I’d like it to be just us for a few years first.” 

“That makes a lot of sense, actually,” he agreed, “especially since our house is still half a damned construction site!” Their house. It made her heart flutter to hear him call it that.  

He was nervous to let her see it, Stone Barn Castle still very much under construction. He’d shown her some pictures on his phone, though, of how the renovation was shaping up. “So how many rooms did you say were done, baby?” 

“All the exterior is, every damned stone needed to be repointed, and the new roof is on as well,” he began. “The kitchen is done, the bathroom, our bedroom, and that’s about it. I’m sorry, I’m taking you up to your new home and it isn’t even finished!”  

“Oi, stop with this,” she soothed, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I can cope! Mum and dad decided to renovate their brownstone about four months after we moved in, and it was bloody chaos for the remainder of that year. I’ll be fine, just as long as I have a place to cook and sleep. And other things that involve a bed.”  

“You’ll love the bed,” he winked, his mouth upturning. “It’s fucking huge, I had it custom built, all black carved wood.” 

“Are you a secret goth mans, Mr. B?” she asked in her cutely comic voice. 

“Nope,” he laughed, “the bedroom is white with black wood furniture, dark floors. It needs some rugs, though.”  

“I bet white sheepskin ones would look fucking cracking, innit?” 

He shook his head, still laughing. “Oh, god. I married a cockney.” He waited for it; his wife not disappointing. 

“I am not a fucking cockney, you cheeky wanker!” Her mild ire was delivered right on cue. “Cockneys are from east London. I’m north London massive, mate.”  

“And so damned easy to get a rise out of,” he rumbled with laughter, Jade smacking his thigh. “Hey, easy on the violence, Mrs. B! I’m trying not to crash here!” He paused for a second, overtaking a slow-moving truck. “What are you going to go by now, by the way? You taking my surname, or sticking with your own?” 

“I think professionally, I’ll hyphenate them, but privately just use Brody.”  

He liked that, Adrien grasping her hand and bringing to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. 

They arrived after a long five hours on the road, Jade’s excitement peaking before she was even out of the car, looking all around. “Is all that land ours, too?” she cried, Adrien nodding as he pulled her bags from the back. 

“It is.” Once again, he waited for it, the word he knew she’d speak. The expensive word.  

“I’m so getting horses!”  

Ahh, there it was. Jade had ridden since her early teens, her mother taking her for lessons at NYC Riding Academy once she and Steven had been able to afford such luxuries, her sister Rachel following her love of all things equestrian, too. She had a few of her own over at her house in England, and Rachel now owned her own stables in New Haven, looking after the horses belonging mostly to wealthy Connecticut housewives who wanted the status of horse ownership without any of the hard work.  

“I’m sure we can plan out a small stable block for that,” he told her, kissing her cheek as she squeaked with excitement.  

“And a chicken coop! I really want chickens!” 

“Oh, god,” he groaned as she took her duffle from him and swung it over her shoulder. “You’re gonna turn this place back into a farm, aren’t you?” 

“Yes!” 

Well, if it made her happy. 

The more immediate happiness was found at being shown around her new home, Adrien taking great pleasure in introducing her to his contractors as his wife, and then showing her upstairs where he took even greater pleasure in pulling her from her clothes, and doing exactly what was expected of newlyweds for most of the early afternoon. After acquainting her with the bed so thoroughly, they headed out again to go and buy food from the market in the village, the light beginning to fade just as they were returning.  

They ate dinner out on the rear patio, Jade taking to the long grass with her wine glass in hand afterwards, looking up at the sky. In Manhattan, the many tall buildings and bright lights meant that a clear view of the night sky wasn’t always offered, the splendorous beauty of the countryside, surrounded only by forest changing that for her entirely.  

Leaning back against his chest as she felt him behind her, she smiled contentedly as he kissed her cheek, pointing up to the blazing canopy above. “Sky full of stars.” 

“I thought you might like that.” he murmured, kissing her again.  

She loved it.  

Finally, she was home.