#leave it to me to be so annoying that the devil that has been following my party for weeks just gave up

[deaderthandoubledead]

I was just fucking around in early Act 3 and found out you can piss Raphael off so much he just fucks off and refuses to deal with you and I can't stop laughing

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

CALL MY NAME AND I'LL COME RUNNING ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes. 

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 

and it only increases your growing frustration. 

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 

you blink. 

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp. 

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink. 

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

[little-diable]

Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by. 

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to. 

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats. 

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest. 

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.” 

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by. 

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs. 

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then. 

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme. 

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church. 

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground. 

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.” 

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him. 

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes. 

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue. 

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by. 

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment. 

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know. 

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind. 

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n). 

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment. 

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n). 

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space. 

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes. 

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap. 

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit. 

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish. 

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.” 

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety. 

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.” 

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls. 

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

[bubblegump-1-nk]

Lost in Translation

pairing: Fem!Reader x Theodore Nott

summary: In which you and Theo are best friends, and secretly in love. But when Theo accidentally overhears a conversation between you and Enzo, he realizes you might not feel the same way…

Note: Ok y’all I’m sorry I PROMISE this will be my last Theo fic in a little while, I’m really going to try to write for other characters (and dw I won’t cheat and write for Lorenzo’s other characters ;)). On that note, I am going on many trips this summer and don’t know how much I’ll be able to write so I just want to get this story out before I leave for my trip tomorrow. Update: I didn’t finish in time and I’m currently halfway across the world writing this, having been awake for 23 hours straight, so if it stops making sense towards the end, pls forgive me 🙏🏼

~~~

It was a particularly warm day in March, so you and your friends decided to carry out your free period by the Black Lake. The sound of the waves lightly crashing onto the shore and the light breeze dancing through the trees was enough to make you want to fall asleep on the plush grass beneath you, but Pansy’s voice brought you out of your dreamy state.

“Y/n?” She spoke again, when her voice didn’t get your attention the first time.

“Mhm.” You muttered from where you were laying in the grass, a smile small placed on your face as the sun hit your skin so nicely.

“Dreaming of Theo?” Hermione inquired, causing Daphne to giggle due to your friendship with Theo being a little too “friendly”.

You shot up and glared at the girls. “How many times do I have to tell you, we are only best friends.”

This caused Daphne and Hermione to laugh even harder, and your cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“Ok, ok, whatever. Y/n, do you have the charms work?” Pansy asked, annoyed that her question had been ignored thrice.

“Yeah, I have it here.” You said, shaking your head to forget the altercation as you rummaged through your satchel.

“Speak of the devil.” Daphne said, causing you to look up.

Class must have gotten out already, hence why Theo, Enzo, and Mattheo were walking your way now.

You gave Pansy your homework and went back to resting on your makeshift grass bed.

“Forgot our invite?” Mattheo said, as the boys reached your group.

“You had class, idiot.” Pansy said, scribbling down your work.

“When has that ever stopped us.” Mattheo said, as he sat down and threw his tie off and gave Pansy a sassy look.

You felt your body being moved by strong hands you immediately recognized as Theo’s.

“Hey, you.” Theo said, as he looked down at you. He had moved you so your head now rested on his lap, a much more comfortable pillow.

“Hi Teddy.” You said, your eyes still closed.

“Theres other people here too, y/n”. Enzo joked, his mouth full with food.

“I know, I just don’t tend to say hi to people I don’t like.” You joked, making a face at Enzo.

He threw a piece of candy at you, but it was intercepted by Theo who put it in his mouth.

“What’s in the bag Mattheo.” Hermione asked, changing the conversation topic and drawing attention to Mattheo’s bag which was slowly and quietly jumping up and down.

“These idiots spilled some of our potion into my bag and it hasn’t stopped jumping since. You should have seen it before though, it’s calmed down a lot since then.”

Theo and Enzo began to laugh, and the rest of the group followed suit.

Theo’s hands were playing with your hair, like second-nature.

Enzo’s gaze burned down on the both of you, and you slowly made eye contact with him. You had drunkenly told Enzo about your feelings towards Theo after a party a couple weeks ago, when he brought you back to your room (a job that was usually taken by Theo).

—

“Careful, y/n, watch your step.” He had said, as he helped you back into your room from the Slytherin common room.

“Your the best Enzo, you’re really my best friend.” You had responded, turning to face him as you said it.

“Yeah you’re mine too y/n.” He said with a small chuckle. You two had known each other for ages, and your bond was like no other.

As he was helping you out of your clothes, you started to explain your feelings.

“Enzo, I can trust you right?” You asked, biting your lower lip.

He stopped momentarily, nervous. “Of course you can trust me, y/n.” He said, taken aback by your silly question.

“Ok, because what I’m about to tell you, you cannot tell anyone about. And I mean it. Not even your cat.” You said, turning to face him, your expression completely serious.

“O-ok, yeah. Of course.” He said, surprised by your quick change of tone.

“I mean seriously. If you told anyone it could ruin everything.”

Enzo gave you a skeptical look, what the fuck were you scared to say he thought to himself.

You took his silence as an invitation to speak again.

“I’m in love with Theo. And I mean really in love with Theo. I’ve thought about it for some time now and I just had to tell someone about it.” You rambled.

Enzo was silent for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Fucking finally you realize!”

—

“Mattheo, stop it! Do it yourself!” Daphne’s voice brought you and Enzo out of your shared daydream. Daphne snatched her potions essay out of Mattheo’s hands and slapped him with it, causing him to yelp out.

“Will you two stop it? Anyways, we better get going y/n.” Hermione said, collecting her stuff and getting up.

“Where to?” Theo asked.

“Harry and Ron are meeting us at Hagrid’s in a bit. We have to help him with some baby dragon he found.” You explained, getting up from Theo’s legs.

“Ok, see you at dinner then.” He said softly, helping you put your things away.

“See you.” You said to him, and then loudly to the rest of the group as you walked away with Hermione.

Theo stared at you as you walked away, his being consumed with you.

~~

Dinner was quick, and as you made your way out of the Great Hall, you detached yourself from Hermione, Harry, and Ron, to grab Enzo.

“Come with me.” You said, pulling him by his arm and giving him no time to ask questions.

You pulled him into your dorm room and closed the door.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna stop being a pussy and confess! I’m tired of being hopelessly in love and I want to do something about it.” You explained.

“Fucking finally!” He said, repeating the words he had said that fateful night.

“And you’re going to help me practice.”

What..?” Enzo asked, a confused expression on his face.

“I need you to help me practice what I’m going to say. Please.” You said, throwing the last word in there to make it sound more like a question than a command.

“Ok yeah. Anything to finally get you two together.” Enzo asked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ugh, I can’t do it! What if he doesn’t like me back, and then I ruin our friendship and I lose him completely. I’ll tear the group apart. I-I can’t do this.” You say, sinking down to the floor, your worries consuming you.

Enzo follows you down to the ground, and grabs one of your shoulders gently. His other hand lifting your chin to look him in the eyes.

“Y/n, I love you, but you’re being so fucking stupid right now. Of course he loves you, it’s so painstakingly obvious. I mean everyone knew before you two realized it. He practically crumbles at the sight of you talking to other boys. So please, just do this.” He explains, putting emphasis on the last sentence.

“You’re right. I- wait, he gets jealous when I talk to other guys?” You ask, diverging the conversation.

Laughter erupts out of Enzo, and it vibrates through out the entire room.

~~

Little did you know, Theo had had a similar conversation with Mattheo the night of that party a few weeks ago, which was the reason for his absence in taking you to your room

—

He was sitting on the astronomy tower, smoking a cigarette when Mattheo appeared.

“Party’s down there, mate.”

“I’m not interested.” Theo had said, watching as the smoke from his cigarette mixed from the smoke created by his voice in the cold air.

“Why’s that?” Mattheo asked, sitting down next to Theo and taking a cigarette from the open pack on the ground.

“I can’t stand it anymore. Seeing her with other boys.”

“Y/n?” Mattheo asked, in which Theo confirmed with a small nod.

“My chest physically hurts when I see her flirt with other people. I’m physically hurting knowing I can’t be with her. Knowing I can’t love her.” Theo explains, tears brimming in his usually stole cold eyes.

“Then tell her. I assure you she would much rather flirt with you than those tossers.”

—

So now, Theo was on his way to your dorm, excitement and fear teeming inside of him. He was repeating the speech he had prepared earlier with Mattheo over and over in his head, but he knew it was useless. He knew he would forget all of it the moment he looked into your angelic face.

He ran up the stairs to your dorm room, pushing people aside and muttering apologies as he did so.

He ran down the hallway, excited to get to your door. He finally reached the dark oak, but was surprised by the laughter he heard inside. That wasn’t your sweet laugh. It was loud and boisterous, a boys. Theo waited outside your door, listening in. Had he misread the signs?

“Enzo stop it. Stop laughing.” You said.

Enzo? Theo thought, confusion clouding his mind.

“Ok, ok, yep, sorry.” Enzo said, laughter still slipping out of his lips.

“I love you, ok?” You said, after slapping the side of his head.

“Finally you realize. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids!” Enzo responded, and Theo’s heart dropped. It dropped and dropped until he was sure it was laying on the floor somewhere. His throat closed up and mouth got all dry.

You were in love with Enzo? How could he have missed that? How could he possibly have missed that? Tears threatened to spill, and he was damned if he let anyone see him cry. He ran out of there as soon as he regained feeling in his legs.

Theo wanted to crawl into the Black Lake and drown. How could the girl he’s been in love with since he was a child love someone else? One of his best friends for that matter. Why was his life always so unfair?”

~~

“Ok, ok I’m ready.” You say, after having finished your little improv love confession with Enzo.

“Ok, so what are you waiting for?”

“Now? You want me to go now?” You ask, your eyebrows shooting up and eyes widening.

“Yes, now! Stop wasting time!”

“O-ok, ok, fine, I’m going now.” You say, reaching for the door. “Will you wait for me? In here, please.” You say, turning back to face him.

“Of course.” He said, a smile small on his lips as he crashes down onto your bed.

~~

You finally reached Theo’s dorm, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you knocked on the door.

It was strangely silent on the other side, until you heard footsteps reaching for the door.

You fought back the urge to walk away, your stomach was flipping and your palms were lightly sweating. Wtf am I doing? You thought.

“Yeah?”

You were taken aback by Mattheo’s presence, even more so by his face. He looked almost, unhappy to see you. Something you had never experienced.

“Is Theo here?” You asked, eyes trying to dart around Mattheo’s body to see inside the room.

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite understand, but it seemed angry.

“Nope. I’ll pass on a message if you want.” He said, uninterested.

“Er, no it’s alright, I’ll just come back later.” You explained.

“Or maybe not.” He said, closing the door in your face.

You stood there shocked, had he really just done that? What was going on? Where was Theo?

You concluded that he had probably been with a girl, thus his urgency and blocking you from seeing inside. Whenever girls got with the boys, they were typically jealous of your friendship with them (although you never understood because they were all practically your brothers), so perhaps he wanted you out before the girl got angry.

You left, walking back to your dorm. The confidence dissipating out of you, and you decided you would just do it tomorrow.

Unbeknownst to you, Theo was actually in the room, wallowing over his lost love.

~~

The next morning you slowly got out of bed, rolling around in your comfortable sheets as the sunlight seeped into your room. It was a slow Saturday and you had nothing planned other than a Ravenclaw party you were debating attending.

You slowly got yourself out of bed, reminding yourself of the large task at hand: tell your best friend your in love with him, no big deal. You got dressed and made your way down to breakfast, and you kept finding yourself wiping your sweaty palms against your shirt.

As you walked into the Great Hall and made your way over to the table, you noticed immediately that Theo was absent, and Mattheo as well. You quickly scanned the table to find Enzo and when you locked eyes, he gave you a sympathetic look followed with a shrug. You went over to your table and quickly ate breakfast.

The rest of the day was just as strange. You didn’t see Theo all day, which never ever happened. You two were practically attached at the hip. It was strange not having his presence around you, and you swear you were having withdrawal symptoms.

The strangest thing occurred towards the end of the day, when you were walking down the hallway and you saw Theo walking a ways away in your direction. But as soon as he saw he, and you swear he saw you, he turned sharply into the boys restroom, looking down.

~~

“Cmon y/n, please come!” Pansy said, trying to drag you out of your bed to go to a party with Daphne and her.

“I’m sorry, Pans, I’m just not feeling it.” You stated. You had been crying for a while, coming to the conclusion that not only does Theo not love you, he hates you.

“Ok, ok. But, if you change your mind, you know where we are.” She said, finally giving up and leaving your room.

~~

Enzo was leaning on the arm of a couch, drinking fire whiskey and laughing along to Draco and Blaise’s remarks.

The Ravenclaw common room had been expanded, yet it still felt stuffy with the huge amounts of people inside. Blue lights were dancing around the room and music was pumping loudly throughout.

Theo and Mattheo were sitting somewhere else, Theo stating he couldn’t stand even looking at Enzo or he would kill him. But eventually, he got enough drinks in his system, trying to numb the pain of his heartbreak, and got up to make his way to him.

“Wow, mate. Where you going?” Mattheo asked, grabbing Theo’s forearm.

“I’m not gonna lay a hand on him.” Theo said, glaring at Enzo and shaking his arm out of Mattheo’s grasp.

He took long strides over to Enzo, Draco, and Blaise, and his cup sloshed back and forth, liquid spilling over the sides.

“Hey mate.” Blaise said, him and Draco both unaware of any drama.

Theo nodded to him and Enzo shared a tight lipped smile, and looked down at his cup. The air was so tense it could’ve been cut in half with a pair of scissors.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Theo asked, after beats of silence and staring daggers at Enzo.

“Uh- I- my girlfriend?” Enzo asked, taken aback. The fear emanating from his voice at Theo’s violent look.

“Yeah, your girlfriend. Y’know, y/n.” He said, his voice laced with brutality.

“Y/n? What are you talking about?” Enzo asked, his brows knitted in confusion.

“I heard you talking to her. Saying how much you loved one another. Ringing any bells?”

“Wait, Theo, what the fuck are you talking about?” Enzo asked, Blaise and Draco listening in intently.

“Wow, you are a shit boyfriend. I fucking heard you saying how much you love each other when I was outside of her dorm. It was two fucking days ago and now you can’t even remember?” Theo said, his face fuming with anger.

“Holy shit, that’s why you started acting all weird? Mate, that’s not even close to what was going on.” Enzo explained, Blaise and Draco were watching like it was a reality tv show.

“Oh, so your love confessions were just pretend, or?” Theo said, talking to his best friend as if he was scum.

“Yes, you idiot! She was practicing what say to you!”

“What?!” Blaise said, covering his mouth when he realized it was out loud.

Theo blinked, looking around to all the boys. Mattheo had appeared when he heard the commotion getting rowdy.

“What..?” Theo asked, looking intently at Enzo.

“She’s in love with you! She asked me to practice what to say to because she was going to tell you. But then you got all weird and stopped talking to her. Now she’s sure you hate her and she’s been crying for hours.” Enzo explained.

Theo looked at him with blank eyes, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” Mattheo said, pushing Theo towards the door.

Blaise and Draco cheered, and Enzo sat back releasing a breath, thankful that he hadn’t just been beat to death by Theo.

~~

“Go away Pansy!” You said, after a knock was placed on your door.

You had been laying in bed practically all day and were wallowing over your lost love.

“It’s not Pansy.” Theo said shyly.

“Theo?”

“Can I please come in.”

“Uhm, yeah.” You said, quickly sitting up and trying to make yourself look more presentable.

The door opened slowly, and Theo walked in, his face was soft and kind.

“Can we talk. Please.” He begged.

“Yeah.” You said quietly, eyes searching his face for a clue of what was to happen.

“I’m so sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you were in love with Enzo and I- I just couldn’t handle seeing you.”

“What? Why would you think I’m in love with Enzo?”

“I came round to your dorm last night to talk to you, and I heard you and Enzo inside. You were talking about how much you loved each other. And I just, my heart broke. Because I’m in love with you y/n. I’ve loved you ever since I have known you and I couldn’t bear to be around you after hearing that you loved my best friend and that I would never have a chance to love you.” He ranted, tears coming to his eyes as he stood before you.

“Theo, I- I don’t love Enzo.” Was all you managed to get out, because your throat was closing in quickly now and tears were threatening to spill if you said anything else.

“I know that now.” Theo said, with a light laugh. “And I’m sorry if I’ve ruined everything between us but I want to make it up to you and if you still have any feelings for me at all, please, please tell me because I can’t go on pretending I wouldn’t burn the entire world for you if you asked any longer.”

You smiled, tears falling from your eyes.

“Of course I fucking love you! I’ve been in ruins thinking that you hate me, Teddy.”

He melted at the nickname and made his way over to you, sitting on your bed and wiping your tears from your cheeks. You both were smiling at each other, and after gathering yourselves for a minute, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You laughed at the silly question, because, of course you wanted to kiss him and answered by smashing your lips onto his.

~~

GOD SORRY THIS IS SO LONG and the ending is super rushed because I didn’t want to keep writing

[smuttyaf]

Jasper Gentlemen’s Club

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭

wc: 9.3k | part two of the business

“Treat yourself to something nice.”

Smile shines genuinely at the stack of blue bills falling into your grip. The heart of your customer pounds against your ear from the generous tip being gifted as you swiftly lean in pressing a kiss against his stubble cheek.

“I’ll surprise you,” You tease. His grip growing tighter against your hip at the gesture. “But that will just be our little secret.”

Following your movements he heads with you out of the dim decorative room. You depart from his side once leaving the elevator with faint ‘goodbye’ and his lingering touch trailing away from your waist. White train flows down your sides as you venture to the back of the establishment.

Heels click against the chestnut floorboard, the sound of lockers closing and gentle laughter fill your ears.

“Speaking of the devil,” Grace grins. Fishnets and lace peek under the usual feather robe. Her ginger hair sits in voluminous curls while her eyes are painted in black shadow.

Jasper Gentlemen’s Club, your place of employment for three years now. It’s a private upscale strip club to say in short, however it was the popular type of establishment catered for specific people; the elites and socialites of society, ranging from celebrities to politicians.

Already being high maintenance from the clientele that it specifically caters for, there were codes set in place to appease them. For example, always having proper upkeep of your appearance. Nails, toes, hair, lashes; everything had to be perfect. You were meant to look like a doll for your customers, suppose to be their escape from reality so you had to play the part perfectly. The second, would be no photography or video recording. It’s a no brainer but it was hounded into your mind, the only type of film the customers will ever be on is the security cameras. The situation being so serious everyone in the building had to sign non-disclosure agreements. And the last and final major rule, always being dressed in the renowned long tulle robe. Each dancer had this garment in every colour and pattern you can imagine, fluffy soft material making all your coworkers look like fairies dancing under the inky light.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this was your job. Working at this elegant spot and always looking stunning with your weekly manicures, pilates classes, and lash appointments. It was all that consumed your life aside from work. Even though you never thought you would find yourself in this position you couldn’t help but be happy about it. You struggled a lot during your teenage years, getting kicked out of your home at a such a young age you had to turn into an adult quickly. So you accept this lifestyle of greedy men and lustful hands, you much prefer it over the life you had before.

“You look like a sexy dominatrix,” You say glancing over her attire for the night.

Peeling open your purse, you let your tip money fall amongst the pile built up from your shift.

“You know me, you really know me!” Grace giggles with hand lying on her heart. You laugh at her expression while sitting at your vanity next to hers. “So… Do you remember the club owner I’ve been telling you about?” She ask, one arm place on the back of her chair as she faces you. You hum at her words nodding your head slowly.

She was boasting about this man that has been her new favourite of the month. Ranting about how he tips her generously and was the most handsome out of all her regulars. You’ve never took much notice of her roaster though, too indulged with your own you couldn’t really care about what her clients look like.

“He’s here and brought a friend… I may or may not have put in good words about you that he wants to meet,” Grace remarks with plucked eyebrows wiggling. It results with you shaking your head in disagreement.

“No thank you, I would like to go home to Cleo,” You sigh giving her an annoyed look. The desire to kick off these heels and curl against his fur freckle coat was all you wanted to do at the moment.

“Oh come on! Just one more before you leave!”

You twist your head at her words again. The clock was ten minutes away from your shift ending and you couldn’t wait for those numbers to dial in. Biting your lip you look at her.

“At least talk to him, I’m sure he’ll tip you for that… you know, because you’re just the sweetest girl in this joint.” Grace mocks Jasper’s southern voice. You roll your eyes at the reminder of him drunkly calling you one of his most prized employees during one the work anniversary parties.

“Fine, but you owe me.” Huffing with fingers tapping annoyingly at the vanity.

“Of course baby doll.”

You both touch up your makeup before going to the floor once more. It was Saturday night which meant it was busy, there was men litter by the bar while many sit amongst the lounge chairs, eyes all set on your coworkers performing their own little show for them before paying for the real thing. Her black train leads you towards the elevator, security smiling as you two step into the machine.

“Three please.” Grace smiles. The guard swiftly presses the number that brings you to the floor reserved for the most confidential people.

This makes you confused. If her client is just a club owner he couldn’t possibly be on this status? That can only mean the guest he brought with him has to be the one filling the role. If you could do a little dance in the space you would. Happy in your head thanking Grace for making you tag along but also causing you to wonder who it could be.

The elevator halts as you reach the floor. Both of you stepping out of the machine with robe swishing against your skin. White fluffy material tugs along the carpet as your heels echo in the hallway, eyes meeting the number of the door 323. The golden knob turns, allowing you both to step into the dim room.

Plum curtains pressed in baroque prints drape amongst the wall with stockard candles laminating the room, it gives sight on the two men standing each with glass of dark bourbon held in their hands.

Grace’s annoying rant about her regular being remarkably handsome is something you totally understand now, both look as if they could easily get sign and put on a runaway at any moment. One man holds a golden hue to his skin, black shiny hair slick under the lights, while the other has fair skin and luscious curls.

They stand in black suits fitting seamlessly against their bodies. The brown eyes of one man holds hues of caramel looking towards Grace while the other has beautiful emerald orbs that makes your breath catch in your throat.

She makes her way to the bronze man, feathers of her robe flutter under the lights. “Angelo, Y/N. Y/N, Angelo.” She introduce. You roll your eyes at her playfulness.

“Nice to meet you Y/N,” Deep Italian voice fills your ears as you smile curtly before giving the brunette next to him your attention.

Eyes watch the contour of his cheeks sink from his jaw tensing. His hair was short with loose ringlets weaving through, nose broad and standing high amongst the features of his chiseled face. He was enchanting, especially with the way he’s towering over you in this dim light, your cheeks begin to swell with heat from this foreign feeling brewing in.

Yes, you had plenty of handsome clients but never once did it make your heart sing a different tune. Your canine tooth pierces the corner of your mouth. The focus he has on you was more then just admiring ones appearance, it was as if he was devouring you.

The only thought passing through your head is hoping he can’t see your blushing cheeks as you play along to his daring gaze and let your alluring persona kick in.

“And who must you be?” You question, lashes look up at the man who still overshadows you in these tall heels.

“I’m shock you don’t know my name love,” Deep voice matching the same tone as his friend. It causes waves of arousal to flow through you.

“Don’t mind her, she’s doesn’t involve herself in small talk here,” Grace interjects, her hand sliding on Angelo’s suited shoulder while stepping into his body.

“Oh? Just my kind of woman then.” The brunette smirks. Those words make your ears tingle and grow red.

Jesus Christ get it together! You think to yourself. This is your new client, not some cute guy at the club, reel in your feelings and do your job.

“Told you to trust me Harry… now have fun you two,” Grace sings, hand slipping and locking with Angelo as she tugs him out.

The sound of the door closing is met with the slow hum of The Weeknd that fills the atmosphere, your heart is pounding in your ears with smile shining on your lips. Timid palms glazed over with sweat run over the white train of your robe.

This was so unlike yourself to be shy around men, especially with your profession after these few years, but now it was as if you can’t even control your nerves. You want to jump his bones and study every inch of him.

“Harry?” You say, body leaning into him and immediately smelling his expensive cologne, Baccarat Rouge. Your favourite mens cologne. Yeah, this was going to be difficult.

“Harry Styles,” He clarifies, eyes drinking you in as you move closer.

Your hand leaves your robe and feels over his collar to roam down his chest to feel over the buttons there. Applying pressure you gently shove him back a few steps before he’s against the familiar sofa, his knees bend with back falling softly against the cushions, your body now towering over his seated position.

The way he’s staring at you made the blood running through your veins thump with urgency to regulate your heart. A closed off part of you is unravelling itself just from looking at this man.

“Let me help you relax, Mr. Styles.” Pushing his legs apart with your thigh, your hips begin to sway to the music in the air. Nails going to the ribbon and playing with the bow.

Teasingly letting the smooth material slide between your fingertips, you move to the soft voice of the artist through the space, head lolling back seductively as you begin to unravel the string, your white embellished lingerie set reveals itself when you let the garment slowly cascade down your arms to rest in the hollow of your elbows.

Intricate fabric displays your busty breasts smooth with light sparkles dazzling under the lights, the floral lace design sits tight against your hips as your thighs rub against each other from each swing. Besides your waist moving so confidently with each stride, you can’t get over the way you feel so timorous.

Harry gaze is practically looking through you, observing every alluring movement that you do. The gentle press of your hands run up his thighs, your hips twisting side by side as you make your way between his legs, nails dragging into the thick fabric of his suit while doe eyes look up at him with playful smirk on your glossy lips.

His chest inhales deeply, knuckles turning white as he strains his hands by his side. The look in your gaze makes him want to groan hungrily, especially due to the position you’re lingering in. Nails trail into his thighs dreadfully to the slow symphonies in the background. He bites down on his bottom lip, body shifting under your eyes as you begin to rise up, swaying your waist back to your original position.

You continue to be enticing, hands running up your body as you turn around let your robe venture further down your arms to rest by your wrists, plump backside set in the air as you continue provoking him.

These movements were nothing new, especially with the way you allow yourself to fall deeper into his body and begin to dance in his lap, hair falling across your face you when rub yourself slowly against his obvious erection. Although, performing this sequence over hundreds of times your heart was beating erratically in your chest with mind racing with millions of thoughts. Thoughts you never had before ever since you’ve started working here, this new found feeling as if discovering Pandora’s Box.

You try to ignore the glint in his eyes, the way they hungrily look over every inch of your body, staring as if knowing what’s brewing in your mind.

Harry’s hand peels away from the velvet seat going to your moving hips, pulling you deeper against his embrace with head lying in the crook your neck, breath warm against your ear as you continue your teasing.

“No touching… you know this,” You scold. But despite the taunt you don’t move his hands, instead you slide your fingers on his knees increasing your ruthless movements.

You hear the groan that erupts from him lowly, nails curling into your skin as you push further into him. Turning your head slightly you nearly brush your lips together, it leads you to stutter at the close encounter. The mistake in your movements so distinct that you know he felt it, and if the lights weren’t such a dim glow he would see the way your eyes flare up at the near moment of kissing him.

“But you like it? Don’t you?” Harry purrs in your ear, heart fluttering at the rasp in his voice.

Rather than burrowing deeper into his touch you draw away from his reciprocating moves, his hands falling to his sides as he smirks up at you, expression shining with amusement.

Smile toying on your lips you straddle his thigh, hands running up his arms to curl around his shoulders. Everything about him was driving you crazy; the colour of his eyes, the cologne drawing you in, the material of his suit that feels smooth under your touch. You want him on top of you in every way possible.

As if catching a glimpse into your mind his hands find themselves back on your hips, compelling you to halt your previous movements of swivelling circles to drag roughly down his thigh. Your clit pressing tightly between the material of your panties to his rough motions that it makes you moan surprisingly.

Immediately biting down on your lip you can’t help but lean forward towards his face, his hands still moving you along his body, inching you closer and closer towards him. Nose brush against each other in the rush exchange just as lips nearly touch. You quietly whimper at the feeling of his nails digging into your hips. His mouth parting slightly as if trying to breathe in the sound you release.

You want so badly to lean in and discover the way he tastes. Honestly, you would do anything to have him cocooned around you in this moment, but unfortunately those thoughts don’t overshadow the reality of why you’re both in this room right now.

Skimming your tongue over your bottom lip, your teeth bite deeply into the flesh continuing to let him control your movements, his eyes still staring at you as he watches you restrain yourself from showing pleasure.

“How much you charge for the night?”

The words hang in the air causing your face to draw away from his, mouth parting in surprise as your expression resembles disappointment. You should really laugh at yourself. Did you think he was different than the rest? That the possessive look he has on you meant something more? You barely even know the man and your heart jumps for joy just at the appearance. You’re so naive, so stupid to really think he would see you differently.

“I —I don’t do that.” You mumble, pulling further away from him as you divert your gaze.

The tension that was once a teasing attraction between the both of you now is strained, the hum of the song concluding in the background sounds in the atmosphere while Harry’s grip relaxes realizing your change of emotion.

“Oh? I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.”

Heels balance yourself back on your feet. Arms trailing down the expanse of his as you faintly smile at him, your hands gather the sleeves of your robe around your wrist and drape it back over your shoulders, fingers lacing the ribbon together as the speaker occupying the room begins to play another song.

“It was nice meeting you sir.” You hush, faint smile tugging amongst your lips even though your face reads as if someone stomped on your dreams.

“Hold on now, let me apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you in anyway.” Harry confesses, his hands that were once on your skin reach out to draw you into his touch, however you step back.

It didn’t matter how he was going to form his words to express his regret about the invasive question. Whether he tried to say it in the nicest way or simplest terms, you know how he sees you. Just like your other clients; their little play thing that they want to unwrap to see more skin under the fabric.

It’s why you care little about the words you hear regularly. It’s expected of you even if it wasn’t something you offer. Yet, even when hearing it so many times, it still hurt that you were always perceived that way.

“None taken, have a good night.” You conclude the conversation.

Swiftly turning around you ignore the irritated expression on his face from your words, as you exit the room you try not to think of Harry and the blooming feeling of his presence captivating you.

“You shouldn’t have such high expectations.”

Sparkling wine dazzles under the chandelier lights when Grace brings the glass to her lips. She rolls her eyes faintly as she drinks back the sweet liquid, all you can do is turn the noodles in your pasta out of boredom.

“You know that’s not it.” You sigh, fingers fiddling with the fork and slouching your head on your hand.

“Oh come on!” It’s her turn to exhale tirelessly with annoyed smile on her lips. “I say you let him have what he wants, see what you can get out of him.”

Of course she would say that because she provides that type service but, you on the other hand didn’t. You never look at Grace differently because of it but she would always comment on just letting certain clients pay for sex, little jabs about doing these favours especially since it charges more. Yes, it would be easy to receive such superficial things out of those gestures but you desire more than that, which she knew tremendously.

“You know that’s not my thing.” Letting your fork scrape against the red sauce in your plate.

“Yes that’s what you say but you’re so infatuated with him, just give it a chance you never know what you can get from Mr. Mafia himself?”

“Mr. What?”

Eyes nearly bulge out of your face as if you were a cartoon character. The metal instrument in your hand drops from your grasp with your head raising off your hold in complete shock. Harry was in the mafia? Now you’re just finding out about this?!

“Oops? I thought I told you,” Grace reveals as if it’s so normal to forget.

“Are you serious?” You remark, eyes stuck on the way she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Yes very serious, now relax. Some of our clients don’t have the best professions either.” She points out raising her eyebrows, and to that you nod in agreement.

You breathe in deeply, hands reaching out to grab your drink and take generous sips from discovering this new found information. This beautiful man with sweet colour eyes and soft curls was part of something dangerous. You never thought about what he could possibly do for work but that was definitely not one of them.

“But yes, the man you’re so in love with is in fact part of the mafia.”

“How do you know this?”

“If you spend enough time around drunk Jasper you’ll find out anything babe.”

Laughing faintly you agree to that, he was always the most honest when intoxicated.

“He was telling me about Angelo as a new client, how he’s some club owner laundering money for someone related to Luciano, some mob boss? I don’t know, never heard of that guy, but! When I met Angelo the first time at work… and well after work too, he was always having someone call him under Styles, one time I caught him talking to him on the phone, something about money so I just put two and two together.”

You bite down on your lip, eyes falling away from her hazel ones and to your unattended bolognese. Money laundering? Hopefully that’s the worse he’s ever done, but the inkling feeling roaming in the back of your mind tells you it’s not. Why should you even care though? This false hope that he’ll actually want you is slim, so why even try to care about what he does.

“I’m telling you girl, with the amount of money he probably brings in you should give it some thought.” Grace sends you another look as she continues eating.

Rolling your eyes again you bring the wine glass back to your lips. This conversation was steering its usual direction and frankly you were over it, you need to shove your heart back in your chest and forget these ridiculous ideas.

“Well if this isn’t a coincidence.”

Both of your sights catch on the same men you saw last night, especially on the specific man who is the topic of the conversation. Harry is now standing right in front of you still looking remarkably handsome as ever. This time he was dressed in a navy blue suit that brought out a gentle tone in his eyes. If you weren’t in this restaurant you would probably take up Grace’s words and get on your knees in this moment.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the heat rush to your cheeks, and unlike the gentlemen’s club the lights inside this restaurant are brightly lit around the room, only highlighting the flush to your skin. Diverting your gaze, you continue to tip the alcohol into your mouth as cheery laughter beams from Grace when she looks between Angelo and you.

“It’s good to know we all have taste,” She humours, while you decide to swallow back the sweet fluid and place your drink back in its previous place.

Your sight darts from your drink to the napkin with extra cutlery to avoid the unwanted attention burning on your face. You know it’s Harry practically boring holes into you, so heavy that you don’t even want to look up and see him. You just willow in Grace’s conversation doing everything to ignore contact.

That’s until weight presses on the back of your chair, the smell of him fills your nose as he practically buries his head into the side of your neck. You’re completely taken back at the gesture, head turning slightly to make distance.

“Are you going to hold onto my mistake forever?” Harry ask, voice low and assertive that you feel your cheeks grow even brighter.

Pulling away from his embrace you scan his face as he straightens his back peering down at you. He studies your appearance in reciprocation to your detecting gaze, as if wanting to know every dip and curve that roams the expanse.

“No.”

“Are you always this cold then?”

“Maybe.”

Finally breaking the stare down you turn towards Grace who smiles sheepishly Angelo way before looking towards you. Sight flickering between Harry retreating next to his friend.

“See you soon.” Grace shines watching the two step away and head to their table.

As soon as they’re out of sight you clench your teeth, fury completely combing through you at the sudden intrusion of the night.

“Ease up on him.” She laughs. It makes you sigh dramatically, reaching over and finishing your glass of wine.

“I want a shot,” You declare. It makes Grace erupt in even more laughter only making you join along. This night was full of surprises.

“For once would you take my advice?”

Monday evening is slow; music transitioning between easygoing temp to dreadful paste. You book a couple private rooms in the beginning of your shift, flirt with some men on the floor to find some entertainment throughout the night, till you’re now in the back room listening to Clarissa and Lucy rant about their evening.

“I told Simon to let Jasper know I’m not taking him anymore and he persists on me keeping him!” Clarissa groans in annoyance hand hitting the leather sofa with frustration. Her energy radiates annoyance.

“Simon probably didn’t even ask, he’s just saying that… you know how he is,” Lucy responds with an eye roll only making you laugh at the exchange.

“I heard that!” Simon strides into the room with clipboard in hand and sharing knowing glances between each girl.

“Lucy you have private room eighty-six, Y/N you have confidential in three-hundred and twenty-three, and Clarissa you’re on the floor in five! No one should be in the back room on slow nights, you ladies all know this.” The statement only causes the group to exchange displeased expressions.

Clarissa and Lucy stand from the couch and make their way towards their own respective vanities while you get out of your seat and move towards the club manager.

“Confidential?” You question, following him as he begins to walk out the room.

“Yes, same gentleman as your last shift so don’t keep him waiting, quickly now,” His voice rush as he takes your wrist softly in his hand and drags you to the elevator, he sends tight limp smile towards the security guard before nodding his head and stepping away.

Same gentleman as last time. Harry wants to see you again? Even yesterday after the attitude you put up? The thoughts erupt in your mind with each of ding of the elevator. Different emotions course through as you make steps towards the familiar door.

You know you shouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s just like all of your regulars who simply want to see you, another of your clients. Nothing he can say or do will make you change your mind.

Fingers curl around the door knob, you relax your shoulders and let an alluring smile spread on your strawberry colour lips. The bubbling anxiety rumbles in your stomach as you retrieve the door open and move deeper into the room.

He sat on the diamond encrusted sofa, white button up with few undone to reveal ink roaming amongst his collar bones. His back is against the seat with arms laid amongst the sculpted frame, one hand free while the other held a glass of dark liquor. Even though he was sluggishly sitting along the chair, the way his hair was in messy curls and gaze falling to every step you make towards him, you shiver in excitement.

“Mr. Styles.” You smirk, concealing the feelings that spark in you.

Harry’s eyes venture down the expanse of your appearance, lingering extremely long on the way your hips sway, to them eventually staring even longer at your lips while you look down on him. His tongue escapes his mouth to run over his flesh, the hand occupying his drink brings it to his lips.

You let your eyes reciprocate his actions, staring longingly at this disheveled appearance; you admire how charming he looks relax with his ruffled curls and roaming eyes. You want to reach out and brush your hand across his skin but instead you let them slide down your waist comfortably.

“You look good in red.” Harry comments locking sight and smirking at you. His hands twirl the ice cubes in his empty glass that echoes in the space.

Smiling faintly at the compliment, you bow your head at the acknowledgment. “Thank you sir.”

Harry draws his other hand off the frame, fingers reaching into his breast pocket feeling over the contents before pulling out two blue bills. The warmth of his palm melts against your skin as it slips through the space in your robe and slides it into the band of your panties.

“Fill up my glass.”

He’s pushing it into your hand, voice so demanding it makes you confuse at the change of tone. You welcome the cool feel of it before turning around and going to the serving bar located in the room.

With your movements unscrewing the bottle to pour the contents, you hear ruffling from behind. Your heart beats so intensely it begins to give you chest pains. Circling back on your heels and making your way towards Harry, you see another few bills between his fingers as you hold his drink in front of him.

“Sit down.”

You oblige taking the seat next to him, mind completely confused on the change of his behaviour. You know your attitude yesterday may have been uncalled for but this was a different type of treatment. His presence being so cold yet inviting, you can’t tell if you’re scared by him or not.

The hand resting along the couch occupied with papers between his fingers run along the strap of your bra, he tucks the bills there while his gaze goes back to admiring you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, welcoming the his palm going to your breast to feel up your neck and grip your jaw with dominance.

“Do you forgive me?”

Threaded brows press together completely dropping your suggestive demeanour, eyes going to his suited pants until his grip tightens and directs your attention back to his.

“Is that what this is?” You continue, gaze running over the way his jaw flexes. “This money for my forgiveness. I’ve heard worse things in my field of work sir but, I’m very appreciative of the gesture.”

Your hand trails away from your thigh and drags along his knee, body leaning into this scent as you completely fall into your thoughts of this handsome man before you.

“So you don’t forgive me.” Harry responds coolly, the pads of his fingers sink deeper into your skin.

“I don’t care.” You state. Clenching down on your teeth while he releases his hold on your jaw. He rolls his eyes at your words, bringing the glass to his lips.

“You’re so frustrating.”

The comment causes your expression to grow with annoyance.

“Do you want me to dance or not?” Attitude clear in your tone as the palm of your hand continues to glide down the expanse of his thighs.

“No. I just want you to sit there.”

“Why?”

“You’ve been running away from me. So, I’m paying you not to.”

Swallowing hesitantly the previous motions you draw on his skin pause. Sight tearing away from him and falling to your polish nails. Well, aren’t you stuck. Sitting against these velvet seats with erratic heart and sweaty palms. The light beat of the song playing through the space between you both only intensifies the atmosphere even more. The ice smashing against his glass every few moments as Harry brings the drink to his lips.

“What do you want?” You say after a few minutes, fingers fiddling together when you look up at him.

“Isn’t it obvious already?” His voice still lace with frustration as he turns his head.

“You.”

Cheeks burn bright with mouth parting, the emotions he makes you feel… he was also feeling them as well. You distract yourself urgently flickering your eyes between him, trying to collect your words wisely.

“You don’t even know me.” The sentence not causing his gaze to waver. He’s still looking at you with this stone glare.

“So… tell me about yourself.” Harry suppresses the irritation in his voice as he rises his brow.

“Are you serious?” Completely surprised at the change of events.

“Very, now do tell.” Drink in hand gesturing for you to begin.

Suddenly that’s how you spend the rest of your night, introducing yourself to Harry. It range from telling him how you begin working at Jasper’s to how you grew up, and when your mind would dwindle he would ask you his own questions.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Two creams one sugar.”

“Favourite food?”

“I love Thai.”

And without the disturbance of Simon ushering you to another room after your extended stay with Harry, you grow comfortable. Relaxing in his embrace and answering anything that came to his mind.

This connection that was clouding your judgment is too good to be true, from the introduction of your meeting to the the way your head is nestle in the crook of his neck, you thrive in the affection. Not listening to your overthinking thoughts that stir you in the wrong direction.

Instead, you let him know everything he wants; you tell him your favourite colour and how you like your steak cooked, to even confiding to him about certain clients you weren’t exactly keen of. The fact that you’ve only known the man for three days and was telling him your whole life story was beyond what you could imagine at the moment, he makes you relax and feel acknowledged. It was nice to feel this way after three years.

Since that night Harry began to make his appearance throughout the week. The same room, for the same time, in the exact same position as last. With each meeting he never let you dance or even suggest it, instead he let you talk whether it was anything on your mind or his, that’s how you spent your evenings.

His presence was relief during your hectic week, depending on your availability between clients you spend as much time as possible in his touch and finding serenity in the way his voice soothes you.

It was now Sunday and you were off, deciding on staying in tonight and catching up on Real Housewives. You sat in your loft with Cleo tuck on your lap, fingers digging into the bag of popcorn while the other reaches towards your ringing phone.

“Hello!” You sing, eyes caught on the dinner scene happening before you.

“Not in today?” The voice on the other line making your body shiver with excitement.

“No sorry, I don’t work Sundays… I should’ve told you.” You confess, guilt brews of him going to the club and not finding you there.

“No worries, what are you doing now?”

Eyebrows rise up on your forehead with deep breath releasing, you flick your eyes around immediately taking your hand out of the popcorn bag to grab the remote and lower the volume, body straightening up as you sink your teeth into your lip.

“Miss me already?” Fingers falling to your plump flesh as smirk pulls on the skin. Harry’s laugh sounds through the speaker, the happy cheer making your heart leap.

“Yes. Yes I do, how can I not?” Lashes flutter with smile beaming shyly.

Maybe this was all too good to be true. Maybe this was just a fleeting moment that Harry is having; booking you six nights out of the week, paying you to refill his glass and converse with him. Maybe he was just going through phases, maybe he just thought of you as another one of his toys. But this attention was one you couldn’t pass up; the way he admires at you, the feel of his hands gracing your body for sheer moments, the reassurance of his words when speaking your thoughts. After years of petty affection and surface base material, this for once felt different. It felt genuine even if you’ve only known him within such short time.

“Are you home?” Are his next words to break the silence.

“Yes,” You answer, fingers trailing from your lips to run into your hair nervously.

“Can I come over?” Heart practically melting in your chest at the suggestion.

“Yes.” With blooming hues of pink roaming amongst your cheekbones.

Eager emotions flood your body as you voice your address to him before ending the call. Your hand drops the remote and gently moves Cleo off your lap as you escape towards your room.

What the hell did you get yourself into and what the hell are you even suppose to wear? Your outfit currently being an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts will certainly not do the job as you venture into your closet; skimming over hoodies and dresses. You end on grabbing your two piece yoga set hoping it will suffice compared to how you look throughout the week.

Sitting in front of your vanity you immediately comb through your hair and brush through your lashes. Nerves coursing through your body at Harry coming over. The unusual excitement of getting worked up for seeing someone revels in your mind, you skim over your features intricately to look for something off when you know that there wasn’t anything. There is this need to look your absolute best for him, even you know you already do.

Huffing slightly at the thoughts running through your mind you get up and make your way out of the room and head into the kitchen, fingers immediately lighting candles and then running quickly to the couch to begin folding the blanket you once laid on. If you were being recoded right now you would laugh at how you run across the spacious condo to make sure everything looks in place.

With ideas of the night ahead bombarding your mind the familiar sound of the buzzer quakes in the room making your heart drop. You step away from the couch and move towards the door, hand pressing the button to let him in.

This feeling was as if you were a teenager all over again. These dreamy aspect of emotions being as if you saw your high school crush passing in the hallway. It’s been three years without mental or physical affection, this new found treatment from someone was making you drunk off happiness.

With these nerves overcoming you, the urgency for alcohol to sooth your system lingers in your mind making you go over to your fridge and take out the chilling wine to soon tug your body over to your glass rack and pull two off, you’re setting them on the table when there’s knocking at the door.

Taking a deep breath you count to three, making your way over and unlocking it. Grin toying on your lips with Harry revealing himself adorn in his black suit.

Chest quakes with each pump of your heart as his lips mirror your happiness. Widening the door you let him step into your home, body turning to shut the door before letting your smile turn nervous.

“I know you drink whisky but I only have wine for tonight.” You stammer, body making your way over to the island and gesturing to the bottle of Prosecco.

Harry looks over the bottle, his eye soon falling on yours with smirk appearing. “I’ll have a glass.”

Control motions peel open the new bottle and fill each cup. He takes his drink in hand before humming at the taste.

“Enjoy reality tv?” The question only makes the warmth in your cheek spread further as you look at the television screen displaying women throwing drinks and overturning the table.

“Oh… um… yes,” You stumble over your words, avoiding Harry’s eyes as he chuckles next to you.

“Flustered are we?” He points out, body bumping into you teasingly.

“This is what you came over to do then, just make me a blabbering mess in my own home.” You pout, sight moving away from the granite counter as you lift the wine glass to your lips and look at him.

Amuse expression shines over his face while he shrugs his shoulders in response. “It does make things more interesting.”

“Interesting?” You recite in his own tone.

His hand that rest along the counter passes through the space between you both to let his palm venture down your waist.

“Yes… interesting how displeased with me you were at first yet having this look of want in your eyes.” Your gaze blares, confusion written all over your face while you relax deeper into his touch.

“I —I feel it too.” He’s hesitant before clearing his throat, lashes flutter against the hollows of his eyes as he collects himself. “This pull to be next to you… it’s unexplainable… ever since the first night.”

The words Harry formulates as if he’s just letting his heart expel everything he’s been building up over the week. It makes the one in your chest thunder with admiration.

“And I shouldn’t have said those things… it’s so stupid but my mind went blank and I just…” His brows push together trying to collect his thoughts properly. “The night I saw you at the restaurant it made me realize I really fuck up. I don’t want to do that with you ever again. I want you to trust me, I want you to love me, I want you to—“

But you immediately cut him off letting your emotions spring in and press your lips against his. Wine stain flesh burns on each other as gracious pecks transform into tongues joining together. The hand that trail down your hips run over your backside.

The heat that he expels when he steps deeper as if shielding you with protection has you moaning against him, head tilting slightly to invite the arousal blooming.

As his palm moves further the surprise of his grip tightening around your ass makes you jump, the hand that was wrapped around your glass bumping against the underside of it causing it to tip over.

“Fuck!” The crashing sound of it smacking against the counter makes you part away from him. “I’m so sorry.” You breathe out. Leaving his embrace to go to the paper towel dispenser and beginning to clean the mess. Cheeks burning even brighter from knocking over your wine.

“Relax baby,” Harry coos, hands falling on your nervous ones as you clean up the puddle.

Laughing shyly you shake your head embarrassed by your behaviour.

“You make me anxious,” The confession falling out of your mouth effortlessly as you collect the drench paper.

His palms grip your fingers tightly causing your gaze to catch with his. Instead of an irritated expression he shares one of amusement and adoration.

“Likewise.”

And ever since that night the connection between you both grows stronger; Harry visits during your shifts to meeting you right afterwards. Coming home to bouquet of roses and designer bags, sending you black trucks to take you out to dinner or meeting with you at Bottega Veneta to piece together an outfit for him.

Two weeks of knowing Harry and he was already dazzling you with the most extravagant gifts but still remaining respectful and never letting you dance when he visit the club. You’re absolutely head over heels. He’s always kind and gentle with you, never pushing your boundaries and soothing you with his words. This affection was a breath of fresh air and you’re undoubtedly happy about it.

Although the regard to respect you was admirable, you were beginning to crave more than cherish kisses and subtle touches. A plan brewed in your mine once your eyes peeled open this morning and you decided to put it in motion tonight. So, as you sit in front of your vanity of the club you fix the straps of your embroidered charcoal bra and look over yourself in the mirror.

“Who might you be expecting?” Clarissa calls from across the room. Your glossy lips don’t hesitate to smile as you look towards her.

“I told you about Harry, right?” You remark, letting your fingers run under the band of the bra to fit more comfortable against your skin.

“Oh! That’s who has you in a good mood lately,” Lucy joins in, jet black hair framing her face in layers with smirk written all over her features.

“If you say so,” You sing, turning around in your chair to look over yourself again.

“Don’t think we haven’t been seeing your post lately,” Clarissa marvels while drumming her fingers against the table.

“So generous with his gift-giving,” Lucy continues in her playful tone, only making you giggle.

The heavy steps of Simon thunder against the oak flooring as he makes his way into the room. Head set intact with clip board in hand, he begins to give everyone knowing looks assuring everyone of their duties tonight.

“And Y/N, you have your regular in confidential.” He finishes at the end of his list before turning to usher the ladies onto the floor from the back room.

“Have fun babe, be safe.” Clarissa whispers when passing you with gentle hug.

You smile at her while nodding with assurance. Looking over yourself, you tie your robe together, lips running over one another before stepping out of your chair and making your way towards the familiar room.

Even with spending so many days with Harry, these emotions that quake whenever he’s mention or to soon bare his presence always resonate these deep feelings; this need to feel his touch rougher on your skin or feel him in the sweet places that you think of him most. You knew this was beyond the earlier arrangements of your first initial meeting, this meant more.

Cigarette smoke roams the air as you make your way towards him. He’s in his usual spot, tailor suit gracing his appearance beautifully as you smile at him. Manicure nails drag against the material while his hands feel over your covered hips.

“Hi angel.” Harry says while feeling over your body.

“Baby,” You purr, moving deeper into his touch. “I have a question for you.”

His features raise in question but doesn’t stop his wondering hands from pulling the ribbon of your robe apart and revealing your body to him.

He hums attentively, looking over your face as he continues to roam over your skin. You’re so enthralled by his touch that you nearly forget your plan.

“Tell me how I make you feel.” Statement leaving your mouth with fingers roaming up his neck and playing with the hair there.

Forest eyes flash with worship as his grip tightens against your waist.

“I feel like you’re made for me.” Knees push his apart as you step between his legs.

“I swear you just take my breath away.” Head craning down for your lips to trail kisses along his cheeks to his jaw.

“You’ve imprint my heart so deeply.” Your hands find themselves running over his chest while his roam over your backside.

“That your love feels undeserving for someone like me.” Those words making you swell with sympathy as kisses continue down the curve of his neck.

“It’s so intense I just have to be near you.” Fingers undoing the few buttons of his shirt as you begin to sink to your knees. His eyes lock on you while his hands link together in your hair, the smooth symphony in the air only escalates the tension.

“Feel you.” He continues, eyes fluttering as your hands move away from his chest to feel over his thighs.

“Hear you.” Your fingers glaze over his erection as you both look at each other with lust.

“Be inside you.” Nails dragging roughly over the print with mascara coated lashes batting up at him.

“Tonight’s your lucky night.” You cut him off. Smirk smoothing over your lips as you begin to undo his belt buckle. “Let me help you relax, Mr. Styles.”

Shifting under your hold he watches you retrieve him out of his boxers. Tongue immediately escapes your mouth looking at how thick and heavy he sits in your hand. It makes pure arousal quake between your thighs as you tug him gently, eyes catching with his.

“Been holding out on me.” It’s his turn to send you a smirk. The look alone makes you want to skip foreplay and take him right there.

You lean in with tongue running from the base to the tip. Pressing flat against the underside it leaves trail of saliva in its wake, your mouth enveloping the crown of his cock while his chest raises with pure satisfaction. His hands continuing to run through your hair.

Pleasant moan vibrates through your throat as your mouth ventures down the expanse of him, tastebuds savouring the salty flavour with each descend of your mouth as you find your paste.

Both of you are still set in this hyper-focus trance looking at each other with the pleasing gestures you assert over him. Spit coating his member as you glide down his cock, plump lips wrapping around his girth as you swallow him down.

“S’good,” Harry slurs, one hand leaving your hair to drag along your neck.

Lashes flutter up at him, relishing in the blissful look crossing his face. He slides down your throat effortlessly with your head bobbing swiftly, his cock wrapped in the slick space of your mouth.

Your clit throbs between your legs, the need to have attention there stirs your next movements as you let your hands glide across his thighs and gather his twin globes into your palm and begin massaging them.

The gesture has Harry groaning, nails gliding down your skin in the change in motions. Eye contact breaking as his head falls against the couch with chest rising in urgency. The site alone makes you want to come, but instead you suffice for the whimper that leaves your mouth when letting yourself glide back up his cock.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” Harry moans, fingers trailing away from your neck to collect your hair in his palm.

The comment makes your stomach tremble, his hands following your gracious movements, with sweat beginning to shine from his temples as he chews away on his lip.

“Look at me baby,” He coos, his hold tugging your mouth away from him. Diverting your attention you look up at him; red eyes with saliva glistening across your lips as shaky breath escapes.

“So pretty for me,” Harry utters, thumb running across your bottom lip as his green eyes search your face. “Stand up, get this off.” He reaches over to tug on your robe.

You raise off your knees letting the garment trail off your shoulders as you stand. You’re immediately letting your feet kick off your tall heels, pleasantly sighing at the relaxing comfort at having them off.

The next motions are your hands teasingly pulling your panties down, Harry’s eyes watching every movement as he watches you unclasp your bra next.

His hands reach out for you, feeling over your soft skin as pulls you into him. Straddling his thighs your fingers go to his chest to pull his blazer off, he quickly follows your lead to take it off the rest of the way while you decide to continue undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

“I want to feel you.” You breathe against his skin.

Gripping his cock in your hand, you gently let him glide between your folds. Harry nods earnestly against your chest, his hold moving from your waist to your breasts, his lips pressing against your fever skin as you let yourself sink down on him. High pitch whimper drawing from your throat as he stretches you out.

“You drive me crazy,” Harry utters with grip tightening as your hips meet each other.

A soft cry releases from your lips as you find the strength to raise back up on your knees and grind yourself into his lap. The thick strain of his dick against your walls has your head falling into his face.

Erotic moans fill the room when your hips discover the perfect rhythm that has him dragging down your folds in the most beautiful way with the combination of him reaching depths of pure bliss.

Harry hand trail away from your breasts and wrap around your throat, rough grasp taking ahold of you as he brings you deeper into his face. From the grip he has to the haunting look in his eyes you are completely devoid of every sense in your body.

“Good girl.” He continues, his thighs positioning himself better on the couch as he begins to thrust and meet your hips in perfect unison.

The name makes your frantic heart gush with devotion, eyes fluttering at the air shortening in your lungs while your nails curl around his shoulders digging into his skin.

“So good for me.” Harry rasps, his merciless strides into your pussy halting your previous movements.

The sweet nectar you produce between your legs sound with each thrust from the satisfying pleasure coursing through you. The static of your climax catches in the pit of your stomach, your eyes rolling from how deep he’s in you that you can’t help but lunge forward.

Lips connecting fiercely with the taste of him making you hum as your tongue explores him. The rough grip he holds around your neck relaxes as he continues his frantic thrusts.

The spark of your release climbs up your spine with fury; head tilting back, eyes fluttering in the thrill of falling apart around him. Your walls quiver in irritated satisfaction as your climax barrels over in passionate rage.

“Tell me…” Harry breathes when pulling away from your face, his eyes watching your dazed out state. Your fingers go numb against his shoulders, with your head completely being propped up by the hold he still has over your throat. “Tell me how I make you feel.”

Completely intoxicated with satisfaction of your release you let your lips begin to pepper kisses along his jaw. The urge to prove to him how much he means to you in this moment has your pussy meeting his rhythmic thrusts.

“Like I’m on fire,” You moan, nails digging into the material of his soaked button up.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me,” Urging him with the seductive tone in your voice. The hands he has wrapped around your neck tenses as he looks at you completely intrigued.

“I —It feels so good,” You whimper as you slowly rock yourself down his length. “You feel so good baby.”

Deep throaty growl shivers over your embrace as his head relaxes deeper into the frame of the couch.

“I want you like this forever.”

The flex of your slick walls around him earns a delicious moan from him. His seed painting your walls effortlessly as you continue to work yourself through his climax. Your fingers travel to his hair and bring your lips back together.

Harry releases his hold from your throat, his palms venturing down your sides and massaging the skin as you lazily ride him. Body relaxing against his comfort as you welcome his kisses.

“Do you even know how weak you make me feel.” Harry breathes against your lips, hands gripping your ass roughly to push you deeper into his chest.

“No… but I like when you tell me.”

[cambion-companion]

hi!! binge read all your raphael stuff and i think it added more worms in my brain!! :D thank you!!!

raphael idea: artist!reader (or tav/durge) that raph commissions to paint a portrait of him. maybe how the sitting would go- would he be monologuing? would he be looking over contracts? would he be sneaking fond (in his own way) glances at the lovely little artist sitting in his foyer putting so much passion and concentration into capturing his devilish visage?

or maybe smth like he can't make it to a sitting one day so he sends haarlep to do it expecting that the artist won't be able to tell the difference. instead, his artist refuses to start working since that's CLEARLY not her patron!! his facial structure is off!! that piece of hair doesn't flow down like that!! and his gaze- clearly not!!! so raph comes back hours (or even days) later to find the little artist still in his house, waiting for his return so that they can resume work <3

I LOVE this!

Thank you for reading my work and for sending this lovely message in! This idea kinda ran away with me but I hope you enjoy this drabble!

“Where is Raphael?”  You squinted at the devil lounging on the gold embroidered cushions.

On first glance, it appeared to be the cambion you’d met yestereve. He had commissioned you to paint a self-portrait for him, showed you the many that already hung from his marble walls. You’d begun your work, sketching the lines and filling them out with practiced dexterity.

Due to time constraints, the devil was a busy man it seemed, you had to cut your painting short, determining to begin again the following day.

Now you sat again, upon the small stool, staring in consternation at the creature who would have you believe it was Raphael.

The fiend stretched, feigning a languid uncaring composure.  In all but those burning eyes, focused so sharply upon your frowning face.

“Whatever do you mean, little succulent?”  It was Raphael’s voice as well, though something was off about the cadence. “You have everything you need right here.”

You shook your head, frustrated, lowering your paintbrush from where it had been poised over the canvas. “No, this isn’t going to work. You aren’t him.”

“My, quite the perceptive thing.”  The devil straightened, looking displeased. “How very annoying.”

“What…who are you?”  You asked, a slight tingle of fear running down your spine.

“I am Haarlep.”  The devil’s long tail swished to curl around his feet.

“That’s an odd name.”

“Isn’t it just.”

Your frown deepened, an annoyed breath hissed through your clenched teeth. “Well, I cannot continue until the real Raphael returns.  When will he be back?”

“The master will not return for quite a while.”  Haarlep rolled his shoulders, looking equally put off. “I do my job quite well. What exactly is the issue?”

You set down your tools and folded your arms, still wary of whatever this creature was. “The way your hair falls, the cadence of your voice…”

“All aspects I am sure you can rectify without too much issue.”  Haarlep interrupted with a petulant gesticulation, but you spoke over him.

“And your eyes.”  Your own eyes narrowed in concentration, focusing on the burning embers within those inky black orbs. “Your eyes are wrong.”

“I’m offended.”  Haarlep deadpanned, then tilted his head with a curious smile. “Explain.”

“I cannot.” You shrugged.

“Then work on painting everything except the face.” Haarlep repositioned himself upon the sofa, his eyes rolling slightly in bemusement.

“For professional reasons, I cannot.”  You didn’t budge. “The master of the house didn’t notify me of this change.”

“The master of the house apologizes.”  Now that voice you recognized, Raphael’s.  Deeper and with more presence than the voice Haarlep used.

Raphael, still in human form, strode into view and offered you a wry smile.  He bowed slightly at the waist, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “I admit to not foreseeing your powers of insight. What a delightful discovery, my dear.”  

He turned and observed Haarlep with mild amusement for a moment. “You’re slipping.”

“Nonsense.”  Haarlep stood from the chaise and flexed his batlike wings. “You know as well as I, some things cannot be replicated.”

“Such as?”  Raphael directed the question to you.

You shifted, your behind slowly numbing from the uncomfortable stool. “Well, the way Haarlep carries himself for one.”  You said carefully speaking the other’s name. “The eyes are also completely different, not in shape or color but the nature they hold within them.”

“Fascinating.” Raphael put his hand to his chin, a slight quirk to his lips. “The eyes.  Windows to the soul.”  He laughed, short and rough.

You didn’t quite understand the joke but smiled politely. “Have you time now?  I can come back later.”

“No.”  Raphael shook his head and placed a firm hand on your shoulder, taking a moment to inspect your canvas. “This is important work. I am at your disposal.”  Raphael’s human form melted away. His hand on your shoulder grew in size and sharp claws bit through your shirt to your skin. Hellfire eyes looked down upon you, familiar, calculating. “For as long as you need me.”

[starry-hughes]

question pressure

nico hischier x reader

summary: nico feels like everyone is mistaking you for his wife and thinks it is finally time to ask you the question

requested: yes!

Since Nico’s rookie year, you had been together. He met you in the city, trying to find some grocery store he was told about, and collided with you. Nico’s a hockey player. Bumping into him sent you stumbling to the ground. He felt bad, but his worry eased up as he was met with laughter as he offered you a hand. 

You were moving in with him at the beginning of his sophomore season. Summers were always lonely without him, especially in the early parts of your relationship. It was also harder when he went back to Switzerland to complete his military service. The two of you overcame small hiccups like those and even bigger hiccups like injuries and a pandemic. However, you stuck it out with him. You began traveling with him for parts of the summer and making road trips work by facetime calls and texts. 

When Nico was named the next captain in Devils history, you were ecstatic. You wouldn’t say you were expecting a wedding ring or anything, but you thought for a split second he would ask. His first year as captain came and went, and there was still no wedding ring. Being together since early 2018, you would have expected it. You tried not to dwell too much on it, though, wanting to let Nico decide when the best time was. 

The Devils were playing pretty well so far. You couldn’t have been happier. Nico was happy and attempting not to be too upset when eventual losses came. He was also happy with you, discussing moving out of the apartment and into a house. The idea of getting a dog was floating around, and Nico was getting baby fever pretty often. 

It was an interview when something happened first. After a win against Florida, Nico, with a goal in the game, was interviewed. “We saw you make a little celly stop at your wife, who was sitting on the glass, is she excited about how your season has progressed?” 

Nico froze for a second at the idea of someone mistaking you as his wife. “Oh yeah, my girlfriend is pretty excited. She loves watching me and the team make it so far this season,” Nico corrected softly. It was hard to watch the interview and not cringe at the panic in Nico’s eyes when someone referred to you as his wife. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed to be with you and have you as his wife. It was more panic from Nico realizing that he had probably been putting off proposing for too long; assumptions were being taken about his marital status. 

The interview gained him a few chirps in the locker room for the next couple of days. Nico apologized to you, but you swiftly told him not to worry. It was an honest mistake from the interviewer. 

Nico sat at a small lunch restaurant near the training facility with Jack, Dawson, and Dougie. Their waitress mentioned that the restaurant would be closed for a day next week since they were catering a wedding. “So, when are you going to ask?” Dougie questioned, eyes pointed toward Nico. “Ask what?” Nico’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “An interviewer referred to your long-term girlfriend as your wife, and you have brought up the idea of moving into a house with (Y/N). Shouldn’t you be asking a certain question soon?” Dougie elaborated. 

He shrugged, trying not to bring more attention to himself from the group. “Does it feel too early to ask?” Nico pondered aloud, eliciting a groan from Jack and Dawson. “Just ask her! What if she gets annoyed and leaves you?” Jack planted that fear into Nico’s head. 

It happened again. Someone referred to you as Nico’s wife instead of a girlfriend. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel awkward. You and Nico had dinner reservations at a nice restaurant. Nico felt like he owed you a nice dinner since he had been away so often this month. “Mr. Hischier, you and your wife can follow me to your table,” the host smiled sweetly. “Oh, just girlfriend,” you corrected with a soft, kind smile on your face. Nico’s hand gripped yours a little tighter at that moment as a small pang of guilt flooded into his body. 

A few weeks after that, you received a wedding invitation in the mail from your distant cousin. Nico had caught you looking at the invitation a little too long. He couldn’t tell if you were upset or jealous. “Weddings are always fun,” you mumbled to Nico as you marked yes on the RSVP for your and Nico’s attendance. 

Nico practically hunted down his new teammate at practice the next week, finding Curtis Lazar lacing up his skates in the dressing room. “I need you and your wife to go ring shopping with me.” 

His pocket had never felt heavier than when he was walking into your shared apartment with the ring box. It felt like the small black velvet box was weighing his pocket down. Nerves dripping off his body were soon gone, seeing you curled up on the couch in his t-shirt. “Hi babe, I printed out some more papers about houses that we should go look at!” you said, happy to see your boyfriend home. He smiled, leaning down to kiss your head. “I’ll look at them after I shower.” 

 Nico shoved the ring box into his nightstand, praying you wouldn’t find it. The rest of the night was normal. You two cooked dinner, watched a movie, brushed your teeth, and snuggled into bed. Your head rested on Nico’s chest, and his arm wrapped around you as the two of you shared small talk. Nico felt a smile on his face as you discussed how you would want to set up the house the two of you were planning to move into. 

“Marry me.” 

You sat up quickly, looking down at your boyfriend, “What?” 

Nico sat up as well, his hands shaking as he grabbed the ring box from his nightstand. “Marry me.” You panicked, “You’re not doing this because you feel pressured, right? I don’t mind correcting people, and if they guys are teasing you, you should just ignore them, and-” Nico cut off your rambling with a kiss. “Marry me,” Nico mumbled against your lips. 

Pulling away from Nico, you nodded once before nodding faster. “I didn’t know when or how to ask you, but hearing you talk about our future house just made me think I should ask now. Plus, I might have waited too long to ask, don't want you getting annoyed,” Nico explained as he opened the ring box, took the ring out, and slid it onto your finger, trying to calm down your shaking hands. 

With a new piece of jewelry on your finger, Nico and you fell asleep as he mumbled how much he loved you. 

[writeslikeanaria]

i’ve seen the devil in every face

ominis gaunt x reader (technically sebastian sallow x reader)

summary: your boyfriend lives with the demons of never being able to see what you look like. that's when he figures out a way to finally be able to look at you; by wearing the face of his best friend.

word count: 5k+

warnings: SMUT, consent is tricky but i'll just stick with dubious, immoral use of the polyjuice potion, angst, confused reader, m!oral, p in v, opportunity for an incredibly angst filled part two

Potions class seemed to be longer than normal. Having finished your potion earlier than everyone else, your only task now was to finish theory book work, a task that genuinely pained you to complete. Books strewn open, you rested your head against the desk, eyes closed, trying to find will within you to actually dip your quill in the ink that rested next to you.

With your vision gone, you used your imagination to picture the chaos happening around you. A cracking pop sounded off in the room, followed by a stench of rotten fish. Fizzing arose in the room, making your skin prick up from the feeling of electricity. From behind your eyes, you could see a bright white light flash, and a groan from your upset classmate followed suit.

For a moment, you realised that this was reality for your blind boyfriend, Ominis, only able to use his other senses to imagine the world. A brief sadness crept over you, leaving a whimper to come out of your mouth, something that was noticed by your potions partner next to you, Sebastian.

“You alright?” He glanced over at you, cocking an eyebrow, quill hovering in the air.

You opened one eye, adjusting to the bright overhead candle that filled your vision in a flood of white. Sebastian looked down at you, some sort of concern on his face, chewing on the end of his quill. You groaned. “Just peachy…” You paused. “Just thinking.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

Lifting your head slightly, you look across the potion classroom, until your eyes land on the innocent target, blissfully unaware of your stalking eyes. Ominis, busy hunched over a potions book, was reading some words out to his partner, Leander. He seemed frustrated though, eyebrows furrowed deeply, as he kept rubbing his milky white eyes out of pure exhaustion. 

From just what you could witness, you knew how annoyed your boyfriend was getting by the ginger’s antics. You had heard many times about how “utterly useless and incorrigible” Leander was, through Ominis’ midnight rantings. Laying in bed, head on his heaving chest, you listened to his stream of consciousness. You pouted at the sight of his anger.

“Ominis doesn’t look happy today.” 

Rolling his eyes, Sebastian turned back to his book. “When is he ever when he's in potions class? Poor thing has to deal with Leander for two hours twice a week, I’m surprised he hasn’t ripped all his hair out of head. Pure misery, that’s him.” Sebastian bit his lip, a thought entering his head. “And it doesn’t help that he’s been unusually stroppy the last couple of days.”

You peered at Sebastian, narrowing your eyes, confused. You had barely had time to see your boyfriend in the past couple of days, so you hadn’t noticed any foul behaviour. “What do you me–”

Unfortunately, your question remained unanswered, as the shrill voice of Professor Sharp rang off across the classroom, scolding none other than Garreth Weasley. His face was so close to Garreth’s that they were almost touching. “How dare you not follow my instructions? Detention all next week. Now, clean this up and complete your actual task for homework.”

You snickered, burying your head in your arms, unable to hide away the humour in the situation. Making eye contact with the boy in trouble, he shrugged his shoulders at you. Although Professor Sharp had just told him to discard his potion, you watched as Garreth blatantly discarded those instructions, instead pouring the potion he was working on into a separate flask, before collecting his books back up. 

The bell rang, signalling the end of class, but you stayed rooted to your seat as you watched Garreth with intrigue, suddenly fascinated with what he was up to. As everyone filed out of class, you opted to corner your ginger friend, closing in on his defeated stature. His face was sallow, but he still kept a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Backing away your bag, you vaguely registered Sebastian trying to talk to you, but you brushed him off, flaying your hand in the air, dismissively. As much as you loved your best friend, you currently didn’t have time for his questions.

Sliding on over to Garreth’s station, you pick up one of his scrawled notebooks, cheekily. “A little birdie told me you got told off again.”

Garreth jumped slightly at your appearance. “Well, then someone should do something about that gossip of a bird.” He lunged towards the book you were holding. “And we give that back!”

There was no point keeping it anyway, unable to read what covered the pages anyway. Garreth’s handwriting was like chicken scratch. Handing him back his book, you laughed at him, before eyeing the suspicious potion peeking out of his satchel bag. “What’s that?”

“Nothing interesting.” Garreth closed the lid on his bag, keeping the mystery out of sight. You frowned, not usually having to deal with Garreth’s secrecy. Normally, he lets you into his devious plans. 

Sighing, you began slowly walking away. “Oh, but it would be such a shame if Professor Sharp found out that you kept some of the potion he told you to discard–”

“Alright!” Garreth stopped you. “It really isn’t anything interesting, I promise, but if you’re still curious, meet me in the abandoned potions classroom on the second floor at midnight. Don’t be late.”

You grinned. You weren’t planning on it.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

When midnight finally came, you were more than excited for your nighttime escape. Cladded in a woollen jumper and tough shoes, you quietly crept down the staircases into the darkness of your common room. As you were about to slink through the door, a voice stopped you in your tracks, calling your name.

“Is that you?”

You immediately recognised the confused tone in your boyfriend’s voice, and a soft chuckle slipped from your mouth. Embarrassed, you covered your reddening face. “Hello darling, I didn’t see you sitting in the dark.”

Ominis pouted. “I didn’t realise a lamp wasn’t on. I was just doing some reading. Have you come to join me?”

“I would love to, truly, but I had other plans for tonight.” You bit your lip in thought. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

A loud groan escaped from Ominis, as he landed his heavy head in his lap. “Can’t sleep, too busy… thinking.”

You moved towards your troubled boyfriend, placing your hand around his. “A penny for your thoughts? I’ve noticed you’ve been… antsy recently, and I can’t help but feel like I'm doing anything for you.” You placed a gentle kiss on his temple. “What’s going on?”

Ominis cringed. “I don’t know how to speak about this; it’s too difficult to even word. And I don’t want to think you did anything wrong–”

“Wait, what?”

“–You’ve been nothing but amazing with everything. You’ve been doting, and kind, and thoughtful, and the time I spend with you, just you, is more cherishable than any worldly possession.”

“Then what’s wrong?” You pressed.

“I–” Ominis sighed. “Everytime we are intimate, I get sad.”

That definitely wasn’t what you were expecting Ominis to say. You retracted your hands for him, unsure if it was out of shock or mild disgust towards what he had said. Never in a million years had you expected your boyfriend, your loving, passionate boyfriend, to admit that love making with you had a melancholic effect on his psyche. Your face contorted with defiance, but you didn’t know how to fight this battle.

You pursed your lips. “Do I disgust you?”

In a flash of seconds, you could see every stage of grief flash over Ominis’ milky eyes, as he reached back towards your hands with comfort. You always relished in the warmth he would give you. 

“That’s not what I meant at all.” Ominis started. “I just meant that I feel as though my loss of sight is hindering my experience. Obviously, it’s not, but I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out on seeing you, my beauty, my radiance, the light of my life. Sometimes I wonder how I can feel whole if I can’t even see my other half. Every single time I hear someone compliment your appearance, I just wish I could see you. Everytime you’re under me, I just wish I could see you. Do you understand?”

You didn’t know if you did, but you nodded carefully, stroking small circles on the backs of Ominis’ mole-covered hands, in an attempt to find comfort for him. What you did understand was how difficult this must’ve been to tell you, and you couldn’t be happier that he was actually communicating with you. Leaning into him, you smiled. “Would you like to talk more about this in the morning?”

Ominis smiled. “Sure.”

“Would you like to accompany me to the abandoned potions classroom on the second floor?”

Ominis screwed his face up in confusion. “Why on earth would you want to go to that musty place at this time of night?”

You giggled. “Garreth seems to be working on a secret potion, and I’m curious to see what he’s up to.”

It didn’t take long to convince your stubborn boyfriend, as in a matter of minutes, you were slinking hand in hand, under a disillusionment spell, across the deserted halls of Hogwarts at night. It was a peaceful adventure, one that really helped calm you both down after the intensity of your previous conversation.

Unfortunately, the words Ominis had spoken still lingered in your mind like cigarette smoke. You couldn’t help but ponder what he had said, as if you were the problem. You knew that Ominis would never place blame on you, but you wish you had noticed sooner.

Every time you crawled into bed together, a mess of teeth and tongue, flesh and slick, you should’ve noticed the abundance of tension seeping out of his muscles, or the way he would hold back from touching you, from being close to you. There were so many signs that you were embarrassed that you hadn’t caught on to any of them. Were you a bad person?

Those thoughts were soon pushed out of your conscious mind when you arrived at your discreet destination. Creeping open the door, you were welcomed by the most vile stench you had every smell, bile rising in your throat as you coughed violently.

“What the hell are you making in here?” You spluttered, unable to think properly from the fumes. Luckily you had your boyfriend holding you arms, stopping you from falling over.

Garreth’s lifted his head up as he noticed you walk in, a giant grin stretched across his cheeks. “Ah, you finally came, and you brought a guest. The more the merrier, they say.” He welcomed you in, clapping his hands against your back. “You’re just in time for the main event.”

You could still hardly breathe from the vileness secreting into your sinuses. “Please make this worth it. I cannot begin to describe how putrid this room smells. I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up in the hospital room because of this.”

“You’ve got it easy.” Garreth laughed. “I have to drink this.” With fascination plastered on your face, you watched as the ginger placed the last ingredient into a small volume of the potion, and swirled it around his flask. You watched as the liquid changed colours very slightly.

Finally, Ominous asked the million dollar question. “What actually is that?”

With one gulp, Garreth drank the entire flask, pouring it down his throat with ease, but reacting to the taste like hot lava. After every last drop was swallowed, he finally gave an answer to the question. “Polyjuice potion. Tastes disgusting, but the results are fascinating. That last ingredient I added in? Those were human hairs, belonging to Professor Sharp. In just a few moments you’ll see what I mean by fascinating results, because the polyjuice potions changes your appearance to make you look like someone else.”

He wasn’t lying. Within short moments, Garreth had grown several inches, became thinner, more wrinklier, with his usual flaming locks transforming into dark brown hair. It was exhilarating to watch your best friend become a whole different person.

You spoke first. “Garreth?”

Your friend rubbed his eyes, no longer focussing on you two. Instead, he squinted in frustration. “Ugh, Professor Sharp’s eyesight sucks; It’s so blurry. This man cannot see shit.”

Laughing at those comments, you dismissed them right away, but your boyfriend seemed intrigued by what Garreth was saying, still rubbing his eyes out of annoyance. “What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that you’ve adopted the same eyesight as Sharp?”

“Yeah, and it’s awful.” Garreth laughed. Walking over to a deserted closet in the classroom, Garreth grabbed out a bunch of clothes that bore a striking resemblance to the ones that Professor Sharp would normally wear, but you took no interest in Garreth’s immature plans. You believed fully that Garreth’s next plans would include terrorising a bunch of year two’s who were still awake at this time of night. What interested you the most was the quizzical look on Ominis’ face.

“What are you thinking?” 

Ominous grunted. “Be quiet, I have a plan.”

For the next few minutes, you made careless conversation with your friend, who explained to you the extent of his plan for the next hour, which included, but was not limited to, sneaking into the teacher’s quarters, stealing all their sweets, and trying his luck at the restricted section. With adrenaline, Garreth’s bumbling attitude had him out the door within minutes, leaving you and Ominis alone in the classroom. Alone with the remnants of the polyjuice potion.

Your boyfriend struck first, heading towards the still full potion. You tried to stop him, but with no luck. “Ominis, what do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? I found a solution to our problems. One mouthful of that disgusting potion and I’ll be able to see your beautiful face, in all your glory. I have no care to worry about the temporary, but I’ll be able to finally see my shining star, my angel. You don’t realise how hard it is to go about my life, wishing I could see your eyes, and your smile, and your hair, and your beautiful lips. I need to do this.”

“And then what?” You questioned his frantic plan. “We share intimacy? You may be sharing intimacy with me, but I’ll have to stare at the face of someone who isn’t mine. I’ll have to live with the guilt of knowing another man who isn’t you.”

“But it is me!” Ominis raised his voice at you. “I am me, emotionally, spiritually, consciously. All you will have to know is the physicalities of another man.” His voice settled, calming down a bit. “I understand your point of you, and all I have to counter it is, for me? I know I cannot force you, but I know I can plead with you, even if you shut me down before I can even present my case.”

You bit your lip in anguish. “How sure are you? I need to know you are completely comfortable with this. This would be the strangest thing we’ve ever shared between us, and I need to know that this is exactly what you want.”

“I want this.” Ominis sighed, cupping your face with his hands. “Finally, I want to know you with all my senses.” He placed a kiss against your lips. “I need to know what love at first sight feels like to a man.”

You returned the kiss with fervour. “I will. I will for you. I love you Ominis.” Resting your head on his shoulder, another question popped into your mind.”

“Ominis.” He hummed in response. “Who are you going to choose to, you know, turn into?”

“Don’t worry. I have someone in mind.”

•┈୨♡୧┈•

Sebastian looked like he was about to doze off at the breakfast table, eye bags dark, head lost between the pages of some tatted book that he probably found illegally in the library. His brown locks were a mess atop his head and he had taken no notice of you and Ominis standing in the entrance of the hall, watching him from a distance.

“Sebastian.” You asked incredulously. “Really?”

Ominis scoffed, brushing you off. “He’s the only choice really. He’s the only person I trust you to know physically, since he is my best friend. I’ve also heard that he’s quite handsome, so I don’t know why you’re objecting.”

“I- It’s Sebastian! He would never agree to that.”

“He wouldn’t have to know.” Ominis smirked. “Now be a good girl and help me distract him so we can get a few hairs off of the top of his head, okay?”

And that’s how you found yourself sitting abnormally close to Sebastian, basically breathing down his neck, trying to get him to lean down just a bit more, but it proved to be a more difficult task than you initially thought.

“No, I don’t see the runes at the bottom of the page.” Sebastian squinted once more at the page in front of him, but refused to move his head downwards like you needed him to. You were about to give up when an idea struck, noticing a strange fold in the page. Just as Sebastian moved the book slightly, you pointed downwards.

“Did something just fall out of the book?”

Sebastian ducked immediately. “Where?” His voice went gruff as he finally looked closely at the bottom of the book, giving Ominis an ample opportunity to gently pluck a few hairs off of the top of Sebastian’s head, without the poor boy even noticing. When Ominis gave a nod, you knew that he had gotten what he needed.

You tutted. “Nevermind, it’s just a fold in the page.” You rested your head in your hand and sighed dramatically. “I thought I saw something.”

“It’s alright.” Sebastian muttered. “It’s no use anyway. I’m so tired, I just want to go to bed right now.”

“Early night?” You joked, but then saw Ominis shaking his head at you. Right, you guys would need the dorm room tonight, for activities. “You could– uh, sleep in the undercroft! Surely sleeping in a room without Ominis’ incessant snoring is exactly what you need tonight.

“What I need is a beater’s club to my head,” Sebastian smirked. “But a night alone sounds great as well.”

•┈୨♡୧┈•

It was almost time. Saying goodbye to Sebastian and sending him on his way was easy enough. With enough encouragement, he was gone before the sun had even fallen asleep beneath the hills, leaving the entire dormitory to you and your boyfriend, whose eyes had not stopped glinting with mischief all day.

The entire day had been a mixture of teasing touches, and whispers of dirty promises. You could still feel the feeling of Ominis’ hands creeping up your skirt in class, tracing your delicate thighs with the traction of a feather. The hot breath of his words still melted against your ears like an ice cold glass of water, and you were so thirsty.

But first, Ominis had to drink the potion.

“I really hope it’s not as awful as Garreth said it was.” You said, eying the murky brown liquid. “But by the smell of the classroom last night, I don’t think it��s going to taste like liquid gold either. Promise you’ll drink some water afterwards?”

Ominis sniffed the flask suspiciously. “It may taste, and smell, differently after adding the hairs, but I doubt so, unfortunately. I wonder if my taste buds will even survive this torture.”

“Well, for my sake,” You pointed downwards, towards your woman region,“and for my girl’s sake, I hope your taste buds come out the other side of this stronger than ever.”

The innuendo was not lost on your boyfriend, who now eagerly added the final remaining ingredient to the flask. Like last time, the colour faded slightly, into more of a mellow mud colour. Bringing the potion up to his nose, Ominous took a sniff, but didn’t recoil.

“Well?”

Ominis hummed. “Isn’t as bad as I expected. Almost woodsy. Like tree bark, or forest leaves. Doesn’t carry the same putridness as the one from last night. I’d even say this one is somewhat pleasant.” He dipped his finger in the potion. “It feels warm. Like a cup of tea. It’s odd.”

You egged him on. “Are you gonna drink it?”

“Patience.” Ominis laughed, but he followed through with your queries, throwing his head back and swallowing the potion in one. 

The effects started showing immediately. The white blouse that Ominis was wearing became too small for his torso, looking like it was about to burst at the seams, as his muscles filled out, and his shoulders broadened like the parting of a sea. Shrinking only half an inch, he now sat at Sebastian’s height, now growing into those features. Gone were those chiselled cheeks, replaced with the smattering of freckles across his face. Hair turned from gold to bronze, and eyes from the ocean to the earth.

“How do I look?” Sebastian– Ominis asked, voice now replaced with the slightly Scottish tenor of his best mate’s, turning towards you.

It was all so confusing. There stood your best friend, but with the mannerisms and posture of your boyfriends. Your body was conflicted too, as you couldn’t help but look at the physicality of your best friend in a new light.

Ominis seemed to be going through his own internal conflict. When he first took the potion he really had no idea if he was going to notice any change with his sight, but when it became bright, too bright, he knew that his hypothesis had been true. It was strange at first, adjusting to a whole new sense. His brain was confused, angry almost, trying to force him back down into a headache, but he persisted.

The world seemed strange. Finally, he knew what it meant to see colour, to see light, and to see beauty. He thought the bed was beautiful. He thought the floor was beautiful. He thought the walls around him were beautiful, but most importantly, the woman in front of him was more than beautiful.

Like an iridescent angel fallen from the heavens above, she was perfect to him. Beautiful didn’t even cover the beginning of what he thought about his girlfriend. Unable to articulate verbally, he stood motionless, as the angel before him tried to capture his attention away from his admiration. 

“Ominis, are you okay? Did it work?” You asked cautiously, worried about what emotions he could possibly be feeling if the answer was no, but the way he was actually facing you, actually looking at you, you were sure that you knew the answer.

Ominis took a breath. “I understand what beautiful is.” He took one step towards you, reaching outwards, but your body didn’t naturally move towards him, still hesitant about yearning for Sebastian’s face and Sebastian’s physique. It wasn’t quite right.

It didn’t feel quite right as his lips touched yours, moving naturally, but feeling like a stranger. You melted like you normally did, but it was with effort, still getting used to the scent of Sebastian wafting into your veins. Reciprocating Ominis’ love filled kiss was more difficult than you would’ve ever thought. You hated how you felt.

“I need you.” Ominis muttered, his voice silky like Sebastian’s. “I need to see what you look like when you’re pleased. I need to know what pleasure looks like dressed on you. I need to see you contort yourself like a good girl. I need you.” 

How could you deny such pleads? Nodding along to the words he spoke, you started on the buttons of your blouse, but were soon swatted from your task, your hands quickly replaced by Sebas– Ominis’ hand. It didn’t feel right watching Sebastian undress you, so you closed your eyes, resting against the unusually broad chest in front of you. 

If Ominis noticed your internal conflict, he didn’t mention it, having the time of his life running his hands down the curves of your soft body, melting at the images he now didn’t have to visualise himself. Reaching down, he placed open mouthed kisses against your throat, eliciting moans from your throat. 

He was marking you, you knew that. The mouth of your best friend was claiming you as a lover, and you enjoyed it, finding pleasure in the heat of the moment, pooling in your panties shamefully. Something about what Ominis was capable of made you fall from your grace and become nothing but a dog in heat. Wrapping your arms around his frame, you pulled him in closer, under you could hear his voice against the shell of your ear. “Get on your knees.”

You knew it was your Ominis, but you hesitated at Sebastian's voice. Obeying anyway, suck downwards, opening up for what was expected. Except, it wasn’t the familiar cock of your boyfriend. It was different from usual, slightly thicker, shorter, with unfamiliar veins running up the length. 

“Suck it.” Ominis’ domineering personality crept out, and you obeyed. It was odd at first, but you got used to this new weight. At first, you placed a gentle kiss at the tip of his cock, watching the precum leak out in generous blobs. Your tongue darted out, lapping greedily at what you were given. Even the taste was different, slightly saltier, slightly muskier. Slicking up the entirety of his cock, you coated it generously, before opening your mouth wider to take more.

With enthusiasm, you took him all, pumping what was remaining with your left hand, and leaving your right hand to rest against his thigh, that twitched with every harsh sucked. His skin, covered in goosebumps, was on fire, the electricity of the moment throbbing in his cock. Ominis wasn’t going to last long, and you knew it.

Still, you threw your head forward, swallowing the tip, feeling him stutter with your movements. Hands threaded in your hair, tugging on your roots, getting a good grip on your head. Ominis had obviously had enough of your teasing, and decided to use you as he needed. It wasn’t long before until you felt his breathing change and his voice falter.

“I’m gonna–”

Cum. It splurted down your throats, in thick ropes you had never experienced before. It was all too much as you lurched away from the cock, more cum landing across your cheeks and necks. Looking up through glazed eyes and thick eyelashes, you watched Sebastian above you, peering down at you curious.

Nimble fingers stroked your face, moving around the sticky liquid, making even more of a mess as his face lit up in delight. You hated the way your body clenched at the thought of Sebastian taking you, needing that spent cock inside of you as soon as possible. You whimpered.

“Please…”

“Please what?” Ominis asked, tugging on his spent cock, slowly hardening again in the palm of his hand. You ducked your head embarrassed.

“Please fuck me.”

You were surprised he didn’t make you beg, as he lifted you up with an ease he’d never experience. Manhandling you onto the nearest bed, he pressed your chest down on the mattress, and flipped up your skirt. You didn’t even have any time to voice your confusion before the thick cock slid into your slick folds, forcing a moan out of you immediately.

Reaching for the blankets to have something, anything, to ground yourself with, you took the hammering like a champion. The immediate pace was frenzied, with no warming up on your part at all. You felt more alive than ever, alert as his deft hands curled around your wrists, holding them together as leverage to get a better angle.

You were drooling on the blankets. The angle was perfectly hitting your g-spot with every rough thrust, the material of the duvet rubbing against your swollen, patient clit, in desperate need of some attention. Every nerve on your body was screaming in pleasure and pain, completely conflicted with every emotion that struck your heart. At least you didn’t have to look into the eyes of your best friend.

Finally, Ominis let go of one of your hands, snaking around your front so he could begin his assault on your clit. His voice was gruff in your ear. “I need you to come for me baby.”

You nodded pathetically, eyes rolling back as every thrust inside of you became more agitated than the last. Tears were free falling from your face now. In the midst of your pleasure, you didn’t even notice the door to the dormitories open, until you heard the voice of…

“What?!”

Turning your head, you couldn’t help let a pained sob out of your throat as you laid eyes with another Sebastian, the Sebastian. In an instance, there was no longer a body pressing down on you, letting you sink down onto the ground. You barely registered that sound of an angry spell being cast across the dorm room, followed by the patting of footsteps both across the dorm, towards the door, and towards you.

You knew it was the real Sebastian still left in the room as you felt a blanket cover your half naked form, keeping your modesty. You knew it was the real Sebastian as when you fell into his shoulder, unable to keep in the tears, he hesitated before placing a comforting hand against your bare shoulder. You knew it was the real Sebastian as he asked you repeatedly what was going on.

You knew he saw himself, fucking you like it was a matter of life and death, a reflection of a reality that his brain couldn’t comprehend.

You, on the other hand, had no thoughts left, falling unconscious on the shoulder of your best friend, with your boyfriend having run away in shame. 

“i've seen the devil,

down sunset,

in every place,

in every face.”

–––

ouch angst. owie.

taglist: @slootmagix, @pretendthisusernameisgoodd, @froggyinaspen, @bxrabbito, @1800-madisonnn

[daytaker]

greetings from clown anon, adored the fic very silly <33

i apologise if i’m filling up your inbox but may i ask for an mc that’s a mortician? that or is just desensitised to death and knows a lot about it, like i imagine whenever the brothers in early season 1 used to do like very specific threats mc would be like “uh actually that’s not how that works” essentially acting like a bit of a smart ass completely glossing over the actual threat

thanksies in advance (´∀｀*)

Clown Anon MCs - [ Clowncore MC | Death-Fixated Science Geek MC | LeVeyan Satanist MC ]

(I'll be real I have no memory of the specific threats and I was too lazy to go look for them but I will follow along the lines of the prompt anyway.)

I'm going to do this one in bullet point form. Hope that's okay.

(CW: a bit gross at times. not quite gore.)

Now I Am Become MC, Destroyer of Worlds: A Death-Fixated Main Character in Obey Me!

Read below the cut.

They're extremely curious about demon anatomy. And not in a kinky way. They want to see how similar the structure and layout of demon organs are to human organs. They want to get full body X-rays when those wings and tails pop up. They want to get it on video when they appear and disappear. Because what the fuck. Yeah, yeah, they get it, magic exists, but still, what the fuck?!

They fully expect Beel to keel over and die one day from overeating. There is no way any single individual can consume the way he does and survive. They're actually hoping that if he does, they'll be able to carry out the post-mortem and see what exactly was going on with that stomach of his. I mean, yes, they'll be very sad he's gone, but at least he'll have died as a martyr to science!

Dead shadow hog? Taxidermied. Dead fire newt? Taxidermied. Dead devil zebra? Brought home, dissected, taxidermied. The brothers don't really like to go to their room because of the constant dizzying stench of formaldehyde that comes from it.

Sometimes they'll just sit and stare at one of the brothers. If asked what they're doing, they'll simply say, "Observing." Reactions to this range from Beel's "Oh, okay," to Levi's "I'M GOING TO MY ROOM AND NEVER LEAVING FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE."

So Solomon's immortal, is he? How immortal, exactly? Is it just that he'll never die from old age? Could he die of a disease? Surely he could die from injuries, right? Has he tested this? Can they test it? Please?

....Please?

Wait, wait, wait. Satan came from where? How? Why? What the hell? Lucifer, take your shirt off, they need to do some investigating. Satan, you too. Lucifer, show them your back. No scars? Not even from ripping your own wings off? Hm. Satan, do you have a bellybutton? ...That's weird, you definitely didn't need an umbilical cord. And you're saying he came out full-sized? Stop telling them it's magic! Magic is just science that people don't understand yet.

Actually, all of you get in here and strip, this has been a long time coming. MC needs to figure out what the hell is happening here.

Why not?

Pleeeease?

Satan, let's talk about one of your murder mysteries! They do this exactly one time, and never again because MC kept interrupting to point out plot holes and inconsistencies. It was so annoying. It kind of ruined the genre for him for a little while.

Leviathan, MC wants to ask you about how you survive underwater. Levi--- Hey, where are you going? Levi?

They write their paper on comparative anatomy of demons, angels, and humans. Diavolo gets a little queasy after the first page and gives them an A. He doesn't want to read the rest, he trusts they did a thorough job.

[cienfleurx]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. ⁰⁰¹

✑ GENRE: slowburn. angst. nsfw 18+.

✑ WARNING: explicit language. mature themes. topics of violence and murder. stockholm syndrome (not the reader). sexual tension if you squint. reader is an executive. other bonten stuff. strictly mdni.

✑ SYNOPSIS: platonic love is a type of love that is neither sexual nor romantic; something that the executives have been feeling towards you for the past few years - or so they would like to believe.

(📂) ⇢ masterlist. 〡 (📂) ⇢ next chapter.

CHAPTER ONE | PLATONIC LOVE.

“No, because I’m gonna kill your fucking whore if you don’t give him to me!”

First thing in the morning and it was already a mess.

“Let’s just hope Boss gets here early.” one of the them muttered, as they heard another gunshot followed by the sound of what was most likely an ancient vase shattering. Poor Takeomi, he'll be furious to see his million-dollar vase broken into pieces by the four executives wreaking havoc on the first-floor corridors.

The majority of the personnel in the lobby couldn't help but sigh as they witnessed the present predicament occurring at the headquarters. It was just another day, another round of chaos from the foolish executives who had been attempting to murder each other for the nth time in the preceding years. Supposedly, these individuals were the said top dogs of the syndicate, but seeing all of this happen before their very own eyes had them doubting at the back of their mind, but not to the point of questioning their position as higher-ups.

The reason? Peluda, your Foldie Cat, had been kidnapped by the Bonten Trio yet again, as you chased their tails with a loaded Glock; a sight that did not even surprise them anymore.

“You.” the receptionist flinched when all of a sudden, you called for his attention, his Adams apple bobbing from your nerve-wrecking presence. You darted a glare at him as you motioned your head. “Get that fucking woman here. I’ll sample that son of a bitch why he should never mess with me.”

Sanzu came to a halt as he heard the command. Ran and Rindou, who had been tossing the Foldie Cat back and forth, are in the same boat. His emerald eyes fixated at the receptionist, glowering at his trembling frame when he caught sight of his movement ready to leave as if he was about to heed the woman's order.

“Don’t you dare.”

“You heard me.” you taunted the man, heading towards him with the cold metallic weapon in your grip. “I’ll bury a bullet on your head if you hesitate once more.”

“Goddamn chill, woman. Mikey will be furious if you touch Himari.” Ran tried to alleviate the tension, but you only shot him a look, positioning the pistol towards his direction. 

“Shit wouldn’t happen if you just give him back to me.” you spat.

Rindou rolled his eyes, plopping down the fluffy cat on the floor as its furry self rushed towards you, its paws trotting fast away from the devils that made him undergone the worst traumatic experience so far in order to rest in your arms, its quivering figure calming down a little when you stroke the base of its ears. “Okay, fine. Geez, can't even take a joke.”

You snarled at him, firing a bullet close enough to graze his cheek.

“Fuck!”

“Your dick is coming next if you fuck with me again.”

“No shit sherlock. This is why cats are the only bitches you have.” Rindou retorted, causing Sanzu and Ran to laugh like maniacs when your face contorted into some sort of displeasure before retreating into the endless corridors.

Truly, the executives couldn't go a day without feeling the satisfaction of holding your suffering in their hands.

Shit has been too hard ever since you became one of the notorious executives in Bonten; it didn't help that these jackasses were always picking on you, making you almost regret taking the title that Sano Manjiro had bestowed on you. They made it a thing to annoy you on a daily basis. Either with the ultimate love of your life being thrown in the air; the ball of sunshine disguised as cats, or with the set of difficult tasks they assigned to you, which almost led to a meeting with the grim reaper if it weren’t for luck backing you up.

Not once did they leave your presence alone; always treating you as if you were a toy who amused them each time you retaliated with your renowned Glock 19 in the clutch, and bothering you every day until all you see is red, firing bullets in the corridor until Takeomi scolds you for damaging his invaluable porcelains. 

However, despite the escapades and monkey tricks that they been pulling so far, best believe that there was not an actual bad blood happening between the both of you. This is just a daily occurrence of how the executives showed their love on one another. You, pointing their gun to them, while they made a run for it. You, threatening their lives, while they indulge in the satisfaction at the sound of your furious clicking heels stomping hard against the glistening marbles.

Surely, things would have been easy if only there were a bunch of Kakucho roaming around the organization, or if the other executives shared the same build as him — respectful, well-mannered, and real mature. He was one of the few gentleman who is courteous to women like you despite being a notorious criminal, and he earned your respect for that.

Just like right now, Kakucho Hitto was being a huge help and you couldn’t be anymore thankful to him for existing in this embodiment pit of hell.

“God. That’s the spot, Kaku. Push it more right there.” you groaned at the feeling of his thumb pressed against your shoulder blades, giving your tense muscle a light squeeze now and then as you relished under his massage. Today was one of those days when you and the navy-haired shared paperwork in his office, and as usual, Kakucho would lend a helping hand by massaging your stressed shoulder after too much documentation processing. Didn’t even help the fact when he found you worn-out in his doorstep, knowing the mess that you had probably just encountered with the Bonten Trio, Kakucho knew that you badly needed some relief over your exhaustion.

“Did I do it right?”

“Yeah. Just squeeze it like that.”

Kakucho did what you told, and you couldn’t help but hum.

“What the actual fuck.” Kokonoi exclaimed under his breath, eyes judgy at the scene playing in front of him. “For a second, I thought you guys are doing the thing.”

Kakucho blushed, because he too, agreed that when you moan like that, it sound like he was pleasuring you.

“Shut the fuck up, Hajime.”

“Can’t blame me. You just fucking moan, alright. Moan.”

“Moans doesn’t always need to be sexual.” you grumbled. 

“Whatever. Kakucho,” Kokonoi called out the navy-haired who seemed to be in a trance until the following words of the silver-haired reached his ears. “Himari’s in Sanzu’s office. You joining?”

You inaudibly sighed at what Kokonoi meant.

So, they were at it again.

Himari Ukishima; the poor woman you had threatened to take life earlier was out there, in Sanzu’s office yet again to pleasure all these executives’ dick.

The woman wasn’t even a whore to begin with. Mikey just found her enticing enough when he passed by a university, and decided to let the Bonten Trio kidnapped her and took her into the headquarters, and she’s been here for what? Almost a year now? Fucking and taking care of their cocks like the good girl she was.

She was basically a girl what the executives wanted; someone they wanted to corrupt and strip off their innocence, and they were no doubt successful from it. It’s Bonten — the worst criminal organization in Japan, what can you say? They fucked her dumb enough for her to develop Stockhold Syndrome. Crazy, you must say. She was one of those victims of their sensual gratification who had fallen deep into the lion’s den to bother escape or even ask for you help, which didn’t surprise you anymore as you think she’s also enjoying the feeling of five cocks in her body whenever you heard her pleas and whines.

“Quiet down, or I won’t hold back putting a bullet through her brain this time.”

You threatened, yet Kokonoi merely let out a smug grin, crossing his arms. The type of woman you are; all bark and no bite. He knew you would never do that. Himari Ukishima is Mikey's most-prized possession. Killing her means defying him, and you weren't one to disobey his orders.

Despite portraying the cold demeanor, Kokonoi knows how much of an obedient woman you are to Mikey.

He was your King; much like to how Sanzu worships him.

“Jealous cause you got no bitches?”

You scowled, growing tired of their old joke of teasing how you got no men to pleasure you. “What’s with you and the others flocking over my bitches?”

Sure, there were some of them, particularly from the clubs you own, though they weren’t like like Himari who had remained the longest period with them. Your sex drive was crazy; no man was able to withstand it and had always been the first one to pass out of consciousness before you could. Therefore, as naturally as you would, you had them dispose and let it be a memory of a one-night stand instead of keeping them by your side. 

However, Bonten would like to think you were just bore in bed that’s why you have no whores in your side. Little did they know, though.

“Well, maybe if you find a man who can last with you then we can stop. Though, I doubt you can find anyone as good as us.”

You raised a brow, intrigued.

"You implyin' something, Hajime?"

He hummed, something within his eyes flashing an emotion you couldn’t quite recognize in your years of being so-called friends.

Instead of responding, Kokonoi only brushed off the question with his right hand, leaving you on Kakucho's office to think if he actually meant something behind his words or he was just messing around with you to rattle your emotions — well, that is, until one by one, you heard sinful groans, whines, and skin slapping from the office next door that made you bury your face on your palms, damn interrupted from thinking and even working from the paper works.

"Stupid fucks, I told them to quiet down." 

✑ NOTE: let me know if you wanted to be added on my taglist ! <3

[riacte]

Space Opera AU dashboard simulator

🥧 syrupstars Follow

Anyone else think that Red King racer is a little... y'know... fruity?

👑 falsewellsupremacy Follow

He literally says "ladies, gentlemen, everyone in between, get in line" so I think that answers your question.

🥧 syrupstars Follow

What about the "#Ally4Life 🏳️‍🌈" on his Twilight handle?

👑 falsewellsupremacy Follow

I genuinely have no idea. Maybe he thinks it's about him being an ally to cishet people

#idk ren's just like that sometimes #void knows what he's doing #also prev tags you do not want to get into the black hole of who ren has dated #he has rumours with 3/4 of the grid #edit: WHO MENTIONED BAD BOY TEENAGE REN IN MY NOTES #the shippers are here... oh no #edit 2: not ren at the club.

74 notes

🛑 bluebatshater Follow

oh my voiddd ofc That Duo got p1 again... i need them to dnf in the race. i hope they crash and burn and die and i need crastle to get podium for ONCE. i am so mad. i am calling for the goddess tsuki to curse them. dnf dnf crash burn DIE

🌻 lesbianlumian Follow

the goddess tsuki LITERALLY protects racers and that's why they pray to her? you think the goddess tsuki, creator of lumians, will curse an actual lumian? be so fucking fr

🛑 bluebatshater Follow

if you dont have anything productive to say get off my post. freak

#those blue bats stannies are SO ANNOYING THEY ARE EVERYWHERE #they're overshadowing all the other teams #cant even be a bitchy hater in peace #salt #negativity #hateposting

12 notes

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

OMG FALSE IS SO PRETTY SHES MY QUEEN OF HEARTS OMG OMGOMGOGM 💖💖💖💖💖💖 i tihnk im gonna pass out. HER HAIR FLYING IN THE WIND AND HER RED FRECKLES AND HER SMILE WHY IS MY HEART BEATING SO FAST and Ren is hot I guess he's tall like a ferris wheel

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

Looking at posts from five years ago is funny like how did I ever believe I was straight

🍦 jelliepopsicle Follow

OP, I think I recognise your url... did you write that viral Bad Boy Ren x QoH fic on Launchpad?

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

💀 Shut the fuck up right NOWWW!!

#STOP MENTIONING THAT FIC I WFOTE WHEN I WAS THIRTEEEN!!! #everything before my gay awakening is not canon. sorry #tbh... as much as a nightmare it was i kinda miss that stupid fic #it was from a simpler time #now im in university trying to contact my groupmates and i think one of them got lost in a blackhole last tuesday (again) #sigh. this keeps on happening to me #my cousin worked on one of the moons last summer for two weeks and came back like he'd aged six months #my friend's ex got sucked into a black hole and was briefly spaghettified but they managed to revive her and she gloats that she's finally taller than my friend's ex #whoops sorry for dumping in the notes #anyways. bad boy rk x good girl queen of hearts. awful idea. even more awful fic. yet i wrote it #i regret everything and nothing

25 notes

🗣️ peace-and-planets-deactivated63891092

PSA: Sunblr user @/summerheavens writes RPF of the Exterra 1 racers. She is a big name fan in the Miraculous Laserbug fandom so I thought you all would like to know. This is gross and disgusting behaviour and I implore you to stop.

🍬 summerheavens Follow

umm @/peace-and-planets i literally saw your kudos on my fic. the evidence is out there. girl what are YOU doing at the devil's sacrament. what are you doing on my roseduo rpf titled "hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine (we're not trying)".

but i'm glad you liked it enough to give it a kudos ^_^ will certainly be putting more on the starchive!

❄️ justwingit Follow

LMFAOOOO OP DEACTIVATEDDDDD 😭😭😭 sunblr user got killed by a rpf author. if you're gonna secretly read rpf maybe not leave a kudos?????

🚀 exterrablrheritage

Exterra 1 Heritage Post

⚡ littlewoodbabygirl69

It's been ten years since this post... @/summerheavens are you okay after recent developments

🍬 summerheavens Follow

am i okay? is ANYONE okay??? in these trying times??????? with the most chaotic gp to ever exist?????? i am PULLING OUT WIPS i dropped out of respect ten years ago. i've got to send my kid to daycare but once i'm done you bet you're seeing me on the starchive. miss swift even dropped her 20th album just in time for me to use lyrics as titles. i am LIVING and i am THRIVING

#ohhhhhhhhhh #let's go #also can't believe taylor finally addressed the vehicle manslaughter rumours from like twenty years ago #how fitting #also littlewood needs to get his shit together #why does he look like he's the one who hasn't seen his man in 32738102371 years and got his soul shattered #he's weak and won't survive the winter

27,408 notes

🧈 butteredbread Follow

WHAT is wrong with that lykos. i desire him carnally

🌳 treebark

@/handoftheking

🪓 handoftheking

I mean... yeah. Let's face it, we're all like that 🤷

⭐ nonbinarystar Follow

MR LITTLEWOOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

#WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM #I HATE HIM SO MUCH #PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIPS CAN ALSO BE ABOUT HATE #THIS GLOWSTICK MF IS MY WORST ENEMY #he just canonised treebark for the sixth time #also prev tags so real #need to slingshot him into a faraway galaxy

34,091 notes

🫃 spaceshipmpreg Follow

Who put that Just a Dream FalseRen AMV on my dash again

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

Respect your roots!! That 125M views Just a Dream AMV raised a generation. Every kid in my school played it on loop on their ipods during recess

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

wait op can you explain your url

🫃 spaceshipmpreg Follow

No 👍

#i think we should get the dogwarts freighter pregnant

6 notes

[zaimta]

Hiii! Are your requests open? I’ve been reading your OP stories and I loooove them!

So I was wondering if I can request a story where Ace and zoro are both interested in you, like hella interested and causes a lot of tension ? You can choose how it ends and who reader ends up with lol.

zai broadcasts - pre time skip zoro gotta love him man this idea was a serve anon, im gonna split this into 2 parts bc i actually love both of them and i can’t pick one and i have ideas for both that i wanna use so stay tuned for em!!

˗ˏˋzoro ver. ˗ˏˋace ver.

˗ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

“nice to meet you everyone i’m ace, and thank you for taking care of my kid brother by the way i know he can be a bit much.”

“oh no he is the near death situations we’ve been in is insane…and you just got on the grand line??”

ace laughed at your snarkiness “that is true he has a tendency to not think!”

nami shrugged her shoulders “well if we’re being honest here i don’t get paid enough to die every five minutes.”

“agreed.” the remaining stawhats spoke in unison slightly annoying their captain.

“hey i’m an excellent captain thank you very much!”

after the reunion between brothers ace revealed he was looking for a man named blackbeard and since their paths collided he decided to travel along with luffy and his crew.

“so are you gonna stop staring at him or go talk to him?” nami nudged you with a grin becoming aware of your little crush on ace.

you nudged her back with burning cheeks “shut up! it’s not like that nami.”

she rolled her eyes and mimicked your voice while fluttering her eyelashes “oh ace you’re so handsome! oh ace you’re hotter than your devil fruit! oh ace the things i’d let you do to me-”

“nami!” you shouted in embarrassment your face growing warm at her horrible impressions and the fact that he might’ve heard.

“the logical thing here would be to just talk to him! it’s not everyday you see a catch like him on the grandline y/n.”

“yeah…” you sighed looking over to where the green haired swordsman was leaned the mast he was napping as per usual, but the way the sun hit his skin just right. you couldn’t help but to stare, accidentally zoning nami out in the process only hearing her again when he gently nudges you for your attention.

“oohhh zoro too huh” she smirked at you but then sighed “personally im team ace im pretty sure he can pay his debts on time…”

“oh speak of the devil here he comes~” nami’s eyes followed ace as he walked along the deck of the merry, she noticed how his eyes lit up once he spotted you and she smirked to herself.

you turned around making eye contact with ace and turned around immediately, which caused nami to laugh at you being to nervous. “ready or not here he comes” she giggled.

“hey y/n, how are you doing”

nami giggled “oh? so excited to see them you forgot all about me?” ace attempted to respond but nami cuts him off speaking with a devilish grin directed towards you “up bup up! i’ll leave you two love birds to talk okay?” she ways goodbye to the two of you and walks into the kitchen of the merry.

ace sighs and sits next to you on the deck, his shoulder softly brushing against yours “so what was that all about?” he chuckles while pointing in nami’s direction. you roll your eyes with a slight smile on your face “that’s just how nami is, y’a know sweet dependable, insufferable nami…so” you look him in the eyes “what’s life like for you on the seas mr. ‘fire fist’” ace smiles at you “oh you know sailing, meeting amazing people, can’t forget running from the navy.”

you chuckle a bit “you don’t say?”

he chuckles “yup, the best part has been meeting amazing people like you” he takes his hat off and places it on your head with a grin “you’re quite the catch y/n.”

from the kitchen sanji watched the two of you on the deck, and suddenly gasped loudly which got the attention of nami and zoro “that bastard?! taking my y/n like that?!?” he shouts angrily. nami raises a brow “what now?” sanji points at the window with tears welling up in his eyes “everyone knows that if a cowboy puts their hat on someone, they’re claiming that person, that bastard just claimed y/n!” he speaks through sobs “nami-swan hold meeeee” me leapt into her arm’s crying into her shirt so she had no choice but to comfort the cook “there there” nami rolls her eyes while patting his back lightly.

“so what you’re saying his y/n is his now?” zoro said suddenly grabbing the attention of nami and the weeping cook, nami smirks at the swordsman “what do you have a crush on y/n or something? y/n looks cozy with ace don’t you think, are you sure you can’t even make a dent in that?”

zoro sucks his teeth “what’s that supposed to mean?” nami’s smirk grew wider and there was a mischievous glint in her eyes “im saying that y/n seems pretty into ace, unless you’re into y/n and you want to change that.” zoro snaps at the ship’s navigator in frustration “of course i want to change that!”

zoro’s eyes grow wide at what he said and a brush quickly creeps up his neck and spreads across his face “i mean-”

sanji looks at zoro in shock while nami has a grin on her face, she points towards the deck where the two of you are sitting “so how about you go do something about it, swordsman.”

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Son of Hell (Part 2)

Lucifer doesn't typically get summoned by his Lily she is usually more than happy to cause as much chaos as possible all on her lonesome. Who needs their loving husband getting in their way he is not bitter.

Imagine his surprise when he is dragged not even to his beautiful Queen, but to a child who is practically dripping with hell magic.

Seems he has a new kiddo, no wonder he's seen less of her lately especially if he's some form of hero which isn't exactly what he would pick for a profession but beggars can't be choosers.

-

Lily is Lilith.

Tim feels like an idiot he had assumed some form of fae or even minor god.

Not the queen of hell he has been bossing around the literal Mother of demons, who's husband is the devil and is smiling at him.

She promised though that she wouldn't leave that she would protect him so this even more doesn't make any sense.

He is still trying to puzzle it out when the fallen angel begins to walk to him.

"Hello my child, may I inquire as to what exactly is going on?"

A voice like honey comes across the battlefield somewhere behind a kneeling Darkseid.

"I believe I can explain, however darling put away the feather dusters you are scaring our imp and his humans."

A woman steps dark black wings almost as big as Lucifer's spread proudly behind, offsetting to the blonde hair and blood red dress that's seems to swirl.

She's looks different but he can feel that it's lily that it's Mom.

"The idiot behind me decided to attempt to kill our child, and well I figured it was time for you to complete your Fatherly duties."

He can't stop his mouth which seems to be operating separately from self preservation.

"You actually want to be my mom?" He can't help the hiccup that follows.

Warm hands come to wrap around his chin his eyes falling to meet emerald.

"You have always been my child, what have I done my imp for your doubt?"

He falls wrapping his arms around her burying his face in her curls smelling the sulfur but also a distinct scent of home.

She stands pulling him fully into her arms like he's a little boy again.

"Now you finish off that annoying stone thing, and than return home it's time for Timothy to meet his siblings."

He turns so he can look at the devil who apperently his adopted father who looks back at him with a wink.

"Anything for you, and yes because I choose to ignore him it's not because my wife never calls to tell me about children no it's all Lucy's fault. Have you been speaking to my father again?"

Tim can't help the giggle that slips out another warm smile comes from both his Mom and his sorta Dad.

He sees the bats and everyone else they look awestruck and angry especially Bruce he hides back in Mama's curls he know that he can't avoid it forever but maybe for a little bit longer.

She must read his mind as her wings begin to move she shouts out.

"To any hero who would like to argue with my child, you may argue with his Father, I'm sure he will be more than willing to make a deal."

As they leave the battlefield the adrenaline gone he feels his eyes start to slip closed he's exhausted.

A kiss across his forehand and a whispered,

"Sleep, sweetheart Mama has you."

Is all it takes before he's dead to the world.

@emstheshortone for you the one that inspired me to make this a series!

[drugsorgasmsandcheese]

shut me up | f. castle

frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you get on frank’s nerves too much, and he’s finally found a way to shut you up.

warnings: reader has nipple piercings LOL that’s the only description, fem!reader, reader curses (she’s so me), reader annoys frank, age gap(?), touching, frank loves reader’s thighs bc i said so, making out, suggestive themes x

“oh my god, it’s raggedy-anne.” you say as you open the door. frank castle is stood behind it, beaten and bloody from whatever activity he got himself into earlier that night. frank ignores your comment and walks straight past you, and your eyes dart to him. “did raggedy-anne get shot in the ass or something?” you ask as you notice the way he limps to the couch.

“has anyone ever told you you talk too much?” frank groans, slowly sitting on the couch, unzipping his black hoodie to reveal his bare chest.

“all the time.” you quirk, pulling the first aid kit out of one of your cupboards. you never owned a first aid kit until you stumbled across frank castle. and i mean literally stumbled. you bumped into him late at night, too drunk to see the danger that lurks around him despite the bruises and cuts across his skin. you offered to help clean him up, only to realise you didn’t have a first aid kit and had to borrow one from your roommate at the time. even in a drunken state, you still did a damn good job at fixing him up.

it’s been like this ever since.

“and you don’t listen?”

“why would i listen to other people?” you smirk, taking your place next to frank on the couch as you start to unpack the necessities you’d need to clean him up. you can feel his watchful gaze on you the entire time, and when you look up at him, his eyebrows a furrowed and are looking directly at your tits: specifically, your nipples.

“what? i wasn’t expecting you to get in a fucking fight tonight. excuse me for wanting to dress comfy in my own fucking home.” your words are followed by a huff.

“when’d you get them done?” you found yourself looking down to where his gaze is cast. the white tank top you’re wearing reveals your nipples, but not only that, the stainless steel bar that passes through them.

you chuckle. “awhile ago, when i turned 18. best decision i ever made, my sex life has never been better.” you wink, causing frank to roll his eyes. “don’t be jealous, frankie, they’re always here for you.”

“you’re a pain in the ass.”

“no, that bullet wound you took up your ass is a pain. not me, never me.”

“i didn’t get shot in the ass.”

“whatever you say.” you grab the rubbing alcohol and place it on the wounds on his stomach using a few cotton pads. under your hand, you feel frank take a deep breath in and you watch him do so. “how’d this even happen, anyway?” you don’t receive an answer, causing you to huff. “fine, stay silent.”

and he does.

whilst you stitch him up, frank can sense the agitation gravitating off of you at the silence in the room. he’s always been a man of few words, but since he’s known you, you’ve always been the type of woman who had something to say no matter the situation. a snarky reply, an intelligent comment, it didn’t matter, because you truly didn’t know how and when to shut up.

“frank.” you say, and you’re met with no reply.

“frankie.” no reply.

“if you don’t reply i’ll sing careless whisper.” that causes frank to raise his eyebrows at you. he’s tempting you, his look saying do it, see what happens.

and so you gave in, because how would one not give into temptation when the devil himself is sat before you?

“tonight the music seems so loud, i wish that we could lose this crowd. maybe it’s better this way, we’d hurt each other with the things we want to sa-”

your singing is interrupted by something, but it takes you awhile to register what until you feel his tongue slip past your lips and a moan leaving your mouth for you to realise that frank castle is kissing you. you feel his hands reach up to cup your face, and you find yourself shuffling closer to be engulfed in the warmth and the feel that is him.

a hand reached out to grasp your left thigh, tugging it over his own until you’re completely situated on frank’s lap. the damage to his skin is long forgotten. his hand remains on your thigh, but it grabs and slides up and down in a way that has you completely at his mercy. his other hand soon joins on your other thigh, they’re in sync with the way they touch you: grabbing, squeezing, stroking them in a way that makes you feel appreciated.

your hands soon cup frank’s face, his jawline sharp and with your hands on his cheeks you find yourself digging deeper into the kiss, digging deeper into frank castle; his heart, his mind, his soul.

you’re not paying attention to the movement of his hands, too invested in the heavy make out session to even realise that his left hand had moved to cup your breast, pulling at your pierced nipple in a way that evokes a hot and breathy moan from you. you’re growing greedy, you want him to do it again and it’s like he’s a mind reader because he does, and you feel him smirk against your lips at another moan that escapes you.

you’ve pulled away from the kiss now, but your hands are still on frank’s cheeks and he’s still playing with your nipple. you’re both breathing heavily, lips just an inch apart as you stare into each other. he’s smirking at you, and you giggle.

“guess you found a way to shut me up.” you laugh breathlessly. “but i think i know a few other ways.” it’s the wink that you give him that frank knows he’s in for a long night. but who is he to complain?

taglist:

(if you want to be added or removed from my taglist, please feel free to message me!!)

@theeblackmedusa

[hell-drabbles]

Satan 5

Summary: Another day, another glass to empty, another drunken haze to enjoy. Should you have taken Satan’s offer to let you bite him? Probably not, but you really wanted to draw some blood. Man, you really need to search for other ways to relieve stress.

(I really just have the urge to bite into flesh and draw out blood. Not even in a sexy way, I just want to do it. So here it is, Embittered Companion biting Satan, because I always felt that they would have a really weird relationship with him. Like, Satan likes being rag-dolled by them but doesn’t pounce like he would with Ra-on.)

It’s only right that, whenever angels have been successfully driven out of a section of Gehenna, that a party has to be had. It can’t all be business and battles down here. And who are you to complain at the mention of alcohol? It’s nice, it gives you a nice, hazy buzz and it makes the world, and the devils within it, more tolerable than usual.

Ice clinked in your glass, only a few drinks in because you despise hangovers more than anything. Ra-on has long since gone upstairs, probably getting railed and that’s fine. He’s not in an active battle-zone so he can do whatever the hell he wants. He still looked at you for permission to do so and you couldn’t help the twitch in your eyebrow as you nodded.

Satan was right next to you. Rare, considering he’d usually be right up there, participating in the probably orgy going on but no. He’s here, giving you some company as you both drank and watched the other devils party like the happy folks they are.

It’s nice, honestly, like a Halloween night at the nightclub you work at.

You should probably move, get a different chair, but you had a feeling Satan would just follow you, so you stayed. It’ll annoy you less.

Then Satan pushed his glass away, finally placing his undivided attention on you.

“Hey,” he said, as a stranger would towards someone they wanted to annoy. Even had that little playful tilt to his voice, like he’s ready to be a little shit and ruin your day.

“Hmm,” you replied, because if you didn’t say anything, he’d repeat himself until you exploded.

“You wanna bite me? I have a fresh neck, right here, free for the taking.” Satan tapped his skin, pressing against a vein as he grinned. “You like blood, right?”

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just bored.” There was no elaboration. A plain and simple reply, with little to no fire beyond the prankster energy he always holds. “I wanna see what your weak jaws can do. Can you leave any damage on me?”

And there it was again, the urk in your stomach, that specific pull on your organs that has your body itching to kick the nearest trashcan just to hear the sound of it. And as much as you wanted to sit back and down another glass, boredom was more painful.

“Alright, may as well.” You placed down your drink, grabbed Satan’s shoulder and shoved his body against the bar. There was hooting and hollering but honestly you can barely pay much attention to it. Not with this devil’s stare. “Do you even blink?”

And just to tick you off more, Satan did the slowest blink known to man. “I just did.”

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked it to the side. His head merely lolled, like he was ready to take a nap then and there. A non-blinking nap. What a freak.

You opened your mouth and let your teeth bite in the area between shoulder and neck. His flesh practically crunched under the force of your jaw. Blood dripped down past your lips and soaked right into the white fabric of his shirt.

Satan hissed in a breath and relaxed further, practically slumping against the bar table. You can hear the smile in his sigh. You let go and went for another bite further up his neck. His skin broke into goosebumps at the next gentle stream of blood. Your tongue stayed in the back of your mouth. You didn’t want to savor, you wanted to mark.

Satan’s body shivered before he reached over for his shot glass. To drink, as though you were mild entertainment at best. You grabbed it before he could down it and poured it over the open wounds. Satan’s jaw closed with a crack, shrinking from the sting and the ice slipping under his collar. Now he was thoroughly soaked.

“Haha,” Satan’s smile was wide with flushed cheeks, “you piece of shit.”

You emptied your own glass, finding that his blood added an interesting tone to your drink. “And you taste like shit.”

You craned his neck back and marked below his Adam’s apple. He lets you. You’ll probably regret this in the morning but eh, you don’t care. At least this won’t go anywhere beyond just you biting him.

What a weird devil he is, finding fun in you injuring him and never asking for anything in return.