#me seeing him on my tl! smiling

[noxtivagus]

good morning i love hermes final fantasy 🤍

[hongluboobs]

hongsang becomes more insane to me the more i read red chamber bc i keep noticing little things that make me want to explode. did you know mirrors are a pretty heavy motif in red chamber? Bao-yu flat out has a mirrored self in the text (i’m not there yet but i know that)

I don’t know if it’s even in a ship way but i keep noticing connections. They’ve both got a lot about being controlled/trapped and false contentment with that situation in their stories (this will find its way to canto 8. please) and the fact that it was THESE TWO to get the dimension shredder egos makes me want to explode

the more i look into these characters the more things i see that are paralleled and similar. The pretty art also helps lmao but i need to know their issues

[stuffeddeer]

imagine mistaking beastzai as your usual dazai (you thought he wanted to be emo for a day) and like did usual silly cute things with him then dazai came home and he’s like HUH WHO IS THIS GUY R U CHEATING ON ME :(( but in the end you have… double boyfriends but one’s moody and one’s fucking annoying

anons that think alike omg telepathy … use ur powers for good!!! two asks in one btw i feel so productive

alsooo beast!dazai would be giddy like a child to be in the main tl w his love… he’d be twirling you around and enjoying what could’ve been before he has to go back!!! all dazais are cringy and in love w u it's true they told me themselves !!!!

“What’s with the outfit?” You spoke bluntly, clearly a little put off by the reappearance of the black coat and red scarf. “Dude, you look like Mori.” Harsh, sure, but your boyfriend worked so hard to walk alongside you in the light, so the last thing you wanted was to see what would’ve been, if not for — 

Dazai smiled, seemingly amused. “Ah, love, it’s merely a costume. Thought you’d get a kick out of it,” he replies easily, pulling off the long red scarf: a staple of the Port Mafia’s boss.

His words help to relax you, letting out a small sigh as you push the coat off of his shoulders. “Let me grab you your coat, I know it’s around here somewhere…” You flittered about your shared apartment, pulling a backup brown coat from its spot buried underneath your closet. “This better suits you,” you speak under your breath as Dazai pulls it on. The fit seems a little… different. Is it somehow looser than normal? You frown.

“Thank you, love,” he repeated the same pet name. It felt as though he missed saying it, which doesn’t quite make sense.

You choose not to dwell on it — maybe seeing him in black again just rewired your brain for a moment. He’s alive and well in front of you and nothing else matters. A nod is all the reply Dazai gets before you slip on your shoes.

“I thought you might have headed to work early when I didn’t see you in bed this morning, but I guess that’s my fault for assuming the impossible,” you decide to tease.

Dazai easily slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin against your shoulder. “Mm… I love you, you know that? Let’s skip work today. We can spend time together, ‘kay?”

He’d always been unpredictable and spontaneous, so you merely laughed in response. “I don’t have work today, remember? But you still do.”

Shaking his head, he pouts — there’s the Dazai you love. “Nope!~ I refuse to go into work today. I’m spending my whole day with my love!” He practically jumps for joy, hands moving to gently hold your waist. “Let’s bake cookies.”

There isn’t much you can do, watching with an amused grin as Dazai unties your shoes before dragging you to the kitchen.

“It does not take two hours to make cookie dough…” you sigh, trying to jostle the white flour from your hair. “We baked cookies together, like, two weeks ago! How could we already have forgotten everything…”

Dazai grins, planting kiss after kiss on your cheeks, melted butter staining your skin from when he accidentally tried to drink from the cup you’d used to soften it. “Hard to remember much when I’m with you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You chuckled, grabbing a towel from the counter to wipe both your face and his lips.

“Yep!~ It’s like.. my love is so pretty I can’t think when I’m around them! Oh, I could just die in… No! I don’t even want to die! I could live in your arms, grow old together and watch you get all frail and saggy,” Dazai speaks dreamily, swooning over the idea of growing old with you. How sweet.

You push him away gently and begin balling up the chocolate chip cookie dough, pressing it onto the silver pan you made Dazai buy when you first started staying over. “Saggy? No, I’ll be young and beautiful forever,” you joke, but Dazai only nods in response.

“It’s true! No one holds a candle to my love. Why, I wish I could spend every day just staring at you.” Dazai’s voice always sounded teasing when he was with you, but even as you put the last of the cookie dough onto the tray (only had enough to fill one, since Dazai kept spilling, throwing or eating the ingredients..) you could feel the genuineness in his words.

Oven preheated, you slid the sheet in to bake (making sure to start the timer) before turning to Dazai. Before you could get a word in, the front door to your shared apartment creaked open. Heart dropping to your stomach, you grabbed the closest thing to you: a whisk your boyfriend had licked clean. Said boyfriend only seemed to sigh, falling into a more somber mood, head hanging before he sent you a sad smile.

“I think the jig is up, love…”

Your name is called from the front door, the voice… suspiciously familiar. “Are you in there? You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried...” Dazai stepped into your apartment, hanging his keys by the door before turning around (an addition you made, since he tended to forget his and jumpscare you by picking the lock every few days).

The three of you stood still, no words spoken and the only sound being that of your metal whisk dropping to the floor. Spinning from one Dazai to the next, you wiped a splotch of flour from your shirt collar. You felt guilty for some reason, like you were at fault for not recognizing an imposter Dazai, and wanted to make yourself look more presentable.

“Awww, love!” The Dazai at the door pouts, throwing his coat on the floor as he quickly heads over to you. “Are you cheating on me?” He continues, slouching over you to impose as much of his weight as he can. You struggle for a moment, his bone crushing hug enveloping more than you expected.

Guilt still apparent as your tummy twisted, you shook your head. “I didn’t— “

The other Dazai, the one wearing a black tie and covered in various cookie ingredients pouted as well. “Maybe she’s cheating on me! I mean, I can’t believe my love moved in with another man…”

God, this was too confusing. You gently pushed Dazai A off of you, stepping back from the two. “I don’t— “

“I can’t believe this… I head to work early one time and now you’re making cookies for someone else!” Dazai A whined, face smooshed against the oven door’s glass in longing. “I’ll never be on time again! In fact, I think I’ll always have to be late.”

Dazai B pulled Dazai A back towards him by his collar, whispering obnoxiously, “I’ll share the cookies if you share the beautiful partner.”

Dazai A nods in approval, eyes closed and arms crossed like it was the easiest decision to make in the world. “I want half the sheet. And, I want a kiss…” He pouts towards you. Ugh, how annoying.

You deadpan towards the two, no longer feeling guilty. These two were just as much Dazai as they could get. Arms spread, you let Dazai A pull you into a hug so you can give him a proper welcome home kiss. “Both of you are obnoxious. Is that all I’m worth? Half a sheet of cookies?”

“Half a sheet of your cookies,” Dazai B grins. “That’s not something either of us would give up lightly.” The other Dazai nods in agreement.

Both of your stupid, annoying, clingy boyfriends tug on your sleeves, forcing you over to the couch so they can both receive your affections while the cookies bake.

the timer goes off after a while but they both whine about not wanting to let u get up. once you threaten letting the cookies burn they're quick to let go. i hate them both.

[p4nishers]

I find it very hard to understand everyone's confusion regarding who he was talking to when he said “I know what kind of god I need to be. For you.” In the doorway, Sylvie runs off, but Mobius is frozen and horrified. Mobius is the Loki expert. Mobius knows then that Loki isn’t coming back and just stares in fear and petrification. Loki knew those words had meaning to only them, and those are the ones he chose as his farewell. Then he turns and advances towards the loom, where the Lokius theme was playing as he became the God of Stories because it was through Mobius’ guidance and unconditional love and support that they’ve come this far.

Mobius explaining to Loki in s2e2, "because it's not my life, this is. the tva is the only life i've ever known, i like it. i wanna thank the guy who brought me here, got me this pie." and the juxtaposition to the revelation that Loki is the one who brought Mobius to the tva in the first place and gave him his own Glorious Purpose makes him leaving the tva the moment Loki isn't there anymore louder than ever in terms of how real their love is. It proves Mobius truly stayed at the tva because he had Loki. He only decided to finally see his tl because loki wasn’t around anymore — he felt no other purpose to stay. But really there’s no purpose for him in his st either. Loki is his purpose. Loki is his life.

Mobius didn’t choose to leave the TVA just because Loki wasn’t there anymore but because he knew Loki couldn’t see him there as well. So, he chose to stay in his og timeline because at least in one of the infinite timelines where Loki reigned over, Loki could still see him as opposed to in the tva, a place that exists outside of time.

Loki HEARING Mobius means that they are connected. They could have literally had that same scene but with Sylvie in Mobius' place - but no, it was Mobius who Loki heard. It is Mobius whom Loki is looking after. They are together in spirit. And Mobius knows that. He knows that Loki sees him and that's the most important thing. As sad as it is, Mobius being alone and depressed without Loki is better than him being happy and nonchalant about Loki being gone (like Sylvie). Mobius is lost without Loki, he can't live without him, whereas Sylvie can. This just solidifies how real their love is. Loki watching over Mobius and smiling upon hearing his voice was not only insanely romantic but also solidifies whom that “for you” was truly meant for. “For you” was for Mobius. “For all of us” was for his found family. (sorry this got so long i just think their love story is very impactful)

this. all of this.

[dilfprayers]

Angel

real!dad leon kennedy x afab!reader

tw: incest

short yip yap, 100% filth // related to: My, Penitence

an: i felt like yapping about just some sex between leon and the reader in the tl of my last story in between working on the actual second part of the story & some other stuff >_<;;; it isnt much but hehe

"Somedays I'm convinced your dad is more of a boyfriend than this 'mysterious' guy. You're always with him but I assume it's cause you're such a daddy's girl. He can't let you go, huh?"

Your friend jokes while blowing out the smoke from her cigarette.

"Probably just as overprotective now since his only child is having a kid. Must be a big thing for him."

You chuckle in response but you knew the truth. You knew all of what truly was happening. The sexual relationship with your father had went on for a while now. But she'd think you're insane, right?

"— I really wish I could meet the guy who got MY best friend pregnant!"

"My dad."

You respond softly, hearing a light cough. She choked on the smoke from your response.

"What?- You're fucking with me. Right?"

You gaze over, that warm smile remained on your face.

"Of course I'm fucking with you."

You lied, gently ghosting your fingertips over your belly. You felt the gentle kicks in response as your smile widened more. You were having his child. Your father's child.

You couldn't be any happier.

_

What was normal? You don't exactly remember what it's like to be a normal person like everyone else around you was. You adapted back to your roots and all the shit your father dragged you into.

Your first time, second time and yeah.. Whatever time by now wasn't as ideal. But you slowly but surely gotten back into that headspace you had a while back and enjoyed when he came up from behind to touch you or fuck you. You loved your daddy in a sick way all over again. You made the most sense out of it though even when he had spiraled from drinking and would smack you around, beat you till you saw nothing but darkness but you enjoyed finally being intertwined with him. You finally were close with him like the way you wanted it to be.

If anything, he molded you into what you originally wanted to be in the first place.

"Daddy.."

You're obviously mentally gone in the head, busy nuzzling against him like a needy dog while he has his arm wrapped around you, watching television with you. He glances over, a warm smile etched on his face - seeing you all up on him. He found it cute and amusing.

"Yeah sweetheart?"

"Need you.."

"Now?"

"Noooww.."

You thought you'd be past this when you were in your so called "healing" phase but that was short lived after he had you all to himself after the divorce — he seemed to have forgotten all about that, didn't even speak about your mother ever again and only spoke about you or ranted about work. The usual.

"Huh, alright. My pretty angel wants her daddy, yeah?"

"Mh.." You shift around, crawling right onto his lap while staring into his eyes lovingly. He enjoyed the sight of you, all bubbly and needy. It's exactly what he wanted out of you.

So with that, he didn't waste anytime in pulling his pajama pants off and his boxers, letting his cock fling out. You notice it and bite your lower lip with excitement; glancing towards him again with an ecstatic look on your face. This night was gonna be a long one.

_

You two were at it for a while, loud moans and begging filled the room. The scent of sex pooling throughout as you felt yourself in a new state of bliss. For the longest, you tried to get him to stop whenever he stopped by your bedroom at night. After he had taken your virginity, he couldn't get enough of you. Kept mentioning how you were like your mother but better.

At first it was weird then it turned out to make you smile when he said that. You craved for those compliments, hence why you started doing the things you did when you felt him slightly straying away from doing things with you. Changed your attire, purposely did the cliché thing of bending over with skirts or short dresses on so he could see your panties. All of those had brought him further into this taboo relationship. It never was meant to get out of hand but you both couldn't help it. If he was sick in the head, then you were too.

"Daddy's cock feels so- Good!!~"

You cry out, grazing your nails along his back. Your breasts brushed along his chest as he groans, gazing up at you. He was happy himself even if somedays he sat there with a concerned expression whenever he was laying there in bed with you.

"Oh?"

He replies, gripping to your hips before he decided it was time to take charge. He moves his hands up in a better position before grabbing you and pinning you down to the couch, slamming his cock back into you. Your moans are strained out while he stares down at you with a smile. He enjoyed seeing you like this regardless of the doubt in the back of his head that was faintly there.

"I'm gonna cum soon.."

He grasps your hip with one hand while his other hand was in yours, intertwining the both of your fingers together. It was bittersweet and you squeezed at his hand while looking up at him. His movements progressively gotten rougher and faster — nothing but the sound of skin slapping against each other and the loud squelching noises were heard through the room.

"I-inside?..Please.. Please inside!"

To his surprise, this was the first time you begged for him to cum inside. Surely, you expected him to do this on his own but he always pulled out of you each time in the past but this day was different. His cock throbbed from your pleads — only moving rougher than before as a low growl left his throat.

"Inside? You want daddy's cum inside, huh? Dirty girl.."

He wasn't gonna turn down your plea, if anything he was all for it. He tensed up, quickening his pace while you both made eye contact with eachother. The way you stared at eachother made butterflies go crazy in your stomach. Before you knew it, you both had leaned closer to eachother, sharing a passionate kiss that a father and a daughter shouldn't share, but you two were different.

It felt good, so it didn't matter if it was wrong or right.

You muffle moans into the kiss, slipping your hands away and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your legs naturally remain wrapped around his back as his thrusts gotten rougher and deeper while time passed.

Seconds later? You both are crying out moans into the long-lasting kiss, you made a mess all over the sheets and his cock that was twitching inside of you — filling you to the brim. This might've been the most he's ever come..

You both laid there, out of breath while you felt his weight ontop of you. His embrace was warm and it kept you at ease after the session you both shared.

"Ah.....I..I love you, angel."

He rasps out, nuzzling into your neck. You could feel his stubble scrape at your skin as you gazed at him with a faint smile.

"I love you too, daddy.."

You truly did replace your mother. You weren't his daughter anymore.

You were his wife.

[carolmunson]

wake up slow | barista!steve harrington

entry for my fall frenzy requests this request comes in from @superblysubpar: 'there's a scenario with bookstore / library date AND a dialogue prompt that says "what are you reading?"' with steve harrington summary: it's 1990. you're on the opening shift at the bookstore you work at, only to be surprised at a newcomer claiming to be up for an interview for the open barista position in the cafe at the back. sort of put off to start, it's no surprise when things start to bloom over time, and i'm not talking about coffee grounds. tl;dr carol writes a mini romcom.

tw: minors dni, there's nothing too out of whack in this one but i still don't want minors in here. reader is a little sassy but also like, pretty normal overall.

That damn key jams every time it rains -- doesn't help that you left your umbrella at home. Doesn't help that the 'light mist' turned into a heavy downpour the closer you made it to the book store. Doesn't help that you had to park a street over because of street cleaning and had to walk a block in the rain. Now the damn key.

"Come on," you grumble, jiggling an wiggling to no avail. Insert, r-insert, slight tilt to the right, jiggle, pull out a little, turn a little left and then -- nothing. You take the key out only for it to fall to the ground with a fairy like tinkling.

"Come -- the fuck -- on," you nearly growl under your breath while your coat gets heavier and heavier with rain, hood soaking through and dripping water onto your face. You bend down to get the key with a sigh meant for people with back pain, coming back up again to see the coffee bar manager on the other side of the glass door. He chuckles, salt and pepper beared thick over his chin and cheeks. Ruddy skin beams red even in the cool grey light of the morning, 30 years a butcher who pivoted into coffee when he turned fifty and had a really good knack for it.

"Easy morning?"

"Does it look like one, Carl?" you ask, stepping in when he opens the door. He laughs again, a hearty belly laugh that might as well have transported him into a Santa suit in December. "What happened to you?" he asks, following you into the back room where you start putting your stuff in your cubby. You switch out your wet sneakers and socks for the platform loafers and knee highs in your bag. Now that the fall weathers hit, it's all corduroy and knit sweaters, circle skirts and tall socks. If you're going to be on your fifth year working at an idyllic bookstore, you might as well look the part.

"Weather app lied, street cleaning, forgot an umbrella," you shrug, "Just another manic Monday, y'know?" "I know," he nods, "Gimme one second." Carl comes back with a white paper cup and black lid that makes you smile from the inside out, "Is that what I think it is?" "Isn't it always?" he smiles, "I got it ready the second I saw you on the schedule. Caramel latte, hint of cinnamon. Since its -- ya know, fall officially, I put a little maple in there, too." "You spoil me," you sigh, taking the cup from him and letting the warmth radiate through your hands.

"I do," he nods, "But, that latte was the last of my regular milk so I need to run out and grab a few gallons before we open up. You okay to be hangin' out by yourself?"

You nod, of course you're okay to be hanging out by yourself. You take the first sip, letting the caramel flood your tongue. The maple is a good addition. You're about to tell Carl to add this to the seasonal menu but he's already out the break room door with his coat before you can. You hear the jingle of the bell and the lock of the door and eventually the silence settling into the store around you.

You start to re-organize the window display which should've been done last night but 'last night you' said that 'this morning you' could handle it. You wish you could punch last night you in the face, but this is what you get for taking an assistant manager position.

You stack the back to school reads next to your knees where you're sat on them. The dust billows when you move them, making you sneeze with each turn of your head. You rub at your eyes, realizing at that very moment that the mascara you put on this morning has now definitely smudged -- you can't even find the emotional capacity to check considering the store opens in forty five minutes. You wipe down the display shelves, letting the oak gleam under the spot lights. The color is a warm reminder of the cozy moments to come the way that they do this time of year. As you start separating the 'cozy reads' from your 'spooky reads' in the pile on the other side of your knees you hear a knocking at the door --that's not very like Carl to forget his key.

You look over your shoulder, not seeing Carl at all, and if it is, he had some kind of Seventeen Again magic happen to him in that time at the store. You stand up, wiping off your knees and straightening your skirt before getting to the door where the rapping continues against the glass. "We aren't open yet!" you call out.

"M'here for Carl!" you hear, muffled through the panes. "For the barista spot?" you yell back. The guy nods under his hood, the rain picking up in heavy sheets. You sigh, unlocking the door and letting him in. "Carl's not here, he ran out to get some more milk but um, you're welcome to wait in the break room if you want," you explain, wiping a palm over another display through the main hallway and wiping the dust off on your hip. "Thanks," he says, hood coming down to reveal a head full of thick chestnut hair. A gold ring shines on the the hand that runs through it, looks like a family crest type, right on his middle finger.

"I'm Steve," he says with a smile, hand now outstretched to take yours. You look at it and then at him, finally taking in the sight before you. Prominent straight nose, warm amber eyes, lips that definitely use chapstick regularly. He has a nice smile, the kind you read about in the romance novels in the back of the store, the kind people write about.

You take his hand and introduce yourself, he has a business major handshake and you only know that because you dated a handful of them back in college. You try to stifle a chuckle but it comes out airily out of your nose.

"Something funny?" he asks when you both let go. "No, no, sorry, I just thought of something from the other day," you shake your head, "Don't worry about it." He nods, taking off his coat and closing his umbrella following your lead to the back, "It's a cute place."

"Yeah, it's nice in the morning," you nod, "I normally close but -- doing a favor for a key holder today; so you have the pleasure of seeing the troll of the store in her natural habitat."

"What?"

"Nothing -- nevermind," you shake your head, cheeks burning with a wave of embarrassment when you look back and notice that he's genuinely very handsome. You get to the break room, pointing out the spare cubby where he can hang his coat and umbrella. He's in a sweater you swear you've seen on the Cosby Show -- dark green and patterned, a perfect combination of colors against his skin. It cuffs at the wrists, you can see a sliver of his white t-shirt underneath at the collar, a whisper of a gold chain tucked beneath it.

"Yeah um," you start, feeling your heart start to patter in your chest when he takes a seat at the table by the cabinets, "You can just wait here. I'll let Carl know when he comes back."

"Okay," he smiles, "Thanks."

You nod again, heading into the employee bathroom to collect yourself for a moment -- seeing your reflection. You forgot you had rubbed your eyes, masacra smudged in black smears nearly down to your cheeks. "I look insane," you whisper in horror, "Oh my fucking god."

You cover your face for a moment, trying to hide yourself from the embarrassment racking your chest. Definitely looking like the troll of the store, you silently scream into your palms, another dramatic whisper of, "I should just fucking kill myself."

Despite the humiliation, you know it's funny. This would happen to you. This hot guy would come in when your mascaras a mess and your hair is fucked up from the rain, when the weather is bad and your tights have a run, when your allergies are rampant from the dust. Of course he would!

You wet a paper towel and do your best to wipe off the smudges, happy to look a little less insane after a dab of tinted lip balm makes it onto your lips and cheeks.

When you re-emerge he's fiddling with his CD player and his over ear headphones, working on a knot in the wire. You go back over to the counter and take a sip of your forgotten latte.

"What do you drink?" he asks.

"Carl makes it special for me, it's not on the menu," you tell him over the black plastic top before taking another sip. He grins, a soft nod moving his hair with him -- so it's like that. "I didn't ask if it was on the menu. I asked what you drink," he says, leaning back in the chair. His eyes lingering on you sends a zip up your spine, wondering if he's giving you a once over or not.

"It's a caramel latte with maple and cinnamon," you tell him. His confidence both intruiges and enrages you, both making you want to tell him to get out but also learn more about this hot guy that wants to be a barista with a Wall Street handshake, "So why do you wanna work here?"

"Is this the start of my interview?" he laughs.

"No, I'm just wondering," you shrug.

"I'm back in school about twenty minutes away," he says, "Did it for a little when I was in high school -- coffee, I mean. Ice cream shop after that, video store after that. Went to school, took a break, back in it. My dad thinks having jobs like this builds y'know -- character and whatever."

"Jobs like this?" you ask, jaw tensing with annoyance.

"Like, y'know, jobs with the people," he tries to explain, pink building on his cheeks when he realizes he might've said something shitty, "They're not like bad jobs, that's not what I mean -- I mean like, y'know -- not suits kind of jobs. Regular shit."

"Regular shit," you nod, biting back what you wanna say. That gold crest ring should've been enough to tip you off, but your next question is the ace in the hole, "What're you back in school for?"

"Getting my MBA."

Of course.

"Nice," you lie, fake smiling into your next sip -- the latte going cold as your insides when you come to the conclusion that he's just some hot grade A asshole, "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," he calls out while you make your way back to the floor, "I really like your name, by the way! It suits you."

You try not to let that compliment change your mind.

He gets the job, but you don't see him a lot. He opens an then goes to classes at night, you close most of the time -- only catching him really in the first hour of your shift and the last hour of his. You're both too busy to be finding time to talk; him with his mid-shift clean and you with your hourly sales goals and mid-day schedule re-adjustments.

But he does wave when you come in. He calls out your name when you bustle past the coffee counter and weave through the tables to get to where you need to go. It's nice of him, you guess, but the stain of him explaining that the job he's doing is just for regular people taints it for you. Maybe he thinks you're just some menial worker bee that he only knows for now, since his daddy probably has a job lined up for him once he pays through his masters degree.

Job with a suit where the bookstore will be a distant memory for him, whereas you're on a two year track to becoming the manager and likely future owner when the owners get too old to manage it. Job with a suit where he'll pass by the store and shake his head at 'how stupid it was', a 'can you believe people work there?' head toss to a coworker while he get a coffee somewhere else. Meanwhile, it's your entire life, and so are all the stories inside.

A few weeks pass and the days get a little colder, the nights starting earlier as they go. You have an opening shift that chills your bones, hugging your wool coat tight to your body while you fiddle with the key at the door, groaning at the tinkling of it hitting the concrete again.

"Rough morning?"

You look up to the door opening, seeing a pair clean white Nike Air Force 1's singaling who it is.

"It is now," you mumble, grabbing the key and bustling inside.

"Surprised to see you here," he says, following you to the back, "You're not on the schedule." "Last minute switch up, Rochelle has a christening," you say, hanging your coat in the cubby and switching out your sneakers for platfoms again.

"Oh, nice," he grins, "So why is it a rough morning? 'Cause I'm here?"

"Sorta kinda," you shrug, "Did you alread--"

"I got sales report from yesterday on the check out desk, yes," he crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame.

"And th--"

"And the inventory report, and before you ask, yes I checked that all the milk is in stock and that we aren't low on beans. I've been here for a month, honey, I know what I'm doing," he mutters.

"Gross," you pull a face at him over your shoulder, "Don't call me honey."

He shrugs with a smirk, "Rochelle likes it."

"Can you go skulk to your caffeine den and leave me alone?" you snap, "I'm trying to open a store, here."

"Skulk, huh?"

"Too big of a word for you, Harrington?"

"You're on fire this morning," he smiles, that smile they write about.

"I kinda like it," he adds before turning out of the door and back into the warm light of the store towards the coffee bar. You swallow while you watch him leave -- I kinda like it ringing in your ears and floating down to your chest where is settles in, cozy and kind.

The reports are where he said the would be, neat and organized like he was the manager and Carl was his employee. You normally spent at least thirty minutes trying to figure out what Carl had written in chicken scratch on the forms, but Steve's sharp and elegant script was easy to read and perfectly spaced. Annoying.

Even his signature was handsome.

After you get the registers counted and ready you file the forms and mark the reports so they'll be ready for your manager when they get back in store. You check the list of what needs to be done, the chilly late October air swooping in from the cracks under the door. Your face sours while you make your way over to the coffee bar in the back, seeing Steve set up the pastry delivery in the cases on the side.

"Did you come back here to yell at me about something?" he asks, focused on the task at hand, "I got all morning."

"You didn't turn the heat on," you cross your arms, "That's like, the first thing you're supposed to do."

He scoffs quietly, shaking his head, popping back up to lean on glass of the case, "Did you read your morning report or just sit there and admire my handwriting?"

"Excuse me?" you bite back.

"Heats fucked," he shrugs, ducking back down to finishing his display, "They're sending someone to take a look at it later today."

"Whatever," you grumble, turning on your heel to go dust the front shelving and reshelf the returns from yesterday.

"Hey," he calls out, waiting for you to turn around before he continues. Your eyes catch his amber ones, sparkling with a mischief reserved for school boys who are mean to the girls they like, "You look nice today."

You look him over, sucking in your cheeks to kill the smile growing on your lips. His navy sweater hugs a bit across his chest and shoulders, giving way to billow slightly over his midsection and arms. Kahki chinos cut just at his ankles so his sneakers don't even look stupid paired with the outfit, socks just the right height to look cool and not forced. Awful.

"Yeah, you too Harrington," you agree quietly before walking away; and while you killed the smile, he was able to catch that crease in your eyes, the twitch in your shoulders. You thought that was nice, he wonders if he can make you do that again.

You head over to the back of the cafe during your break, no windows near your designated 'break chair'. It's close enough to the fireplace that it always feels like a rainy day even when it's nice outside. Now that Carl started his shift he got your drink ready to go the moment you walked over.

"Well la-di-da," Steve cocks his head when Carl walks over to greet the customer at the register, rag in his hands wiping up the pick up counter, "Expert service and you're not even gonna tip?"

"Here's a tip: leave me alone when I'm on break," you bite. Why did he have to be so handsome? Slight pink on his cheeks from the heat of the espresso and coffee machines, the lights overhead. The heat finally works again and it's almost working too well from the small bead of sweat forming above his brow. He runs a big hand through his hair again, the same way he did when you first met him. You try to ingore the way his bicep bulges in his sleeve when his arm stretches.

His tongue runs over his teeth, settling between them for a second before looking straight at you, "Good one."

"That's what you get when you read books," you say sarcastically, "You should try it sometime."

"You should teach me," he leans over the counter, resting his chin on his palm, "Bet you're a great teacher."

You bite your tongue, pulling in your lips and squinting your eyes to keep the smile from brewing a second time. You pick up your mug and sip your latte while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Nothing this time?" he asks, waiting for you second blow. You shake your head no, occupying your mouth with the rim.

"No?" He asks, you shake your head again, somehow glued to the spot under his stare. He slings the rag over his shoulder, still looking at you. "Well I don't wanna keep you standing here," he teases, offering you a wink that is so soul crushingly charming you could just die, "Enjoy your break."

You've never turned around so quickly in your entire life.

The following week you take another opening shift, happy to settle into the quiet of the cafe now that the morning rush of moms, dads, students, and aspiring writers have cleared out. The fire crackles just right, the leather warmed up to your body heat while the book sucks you in further an further. Thirty minutes pass when you hear a shift infront of you, the subtle squeak of leather being sat in with a soft crunch.

"What're you reading?"

You peer over the top of the spine to see Steve sat in the chair across from you, legs open wide while he leans his forearms on his knees. His long fingers slide together, gold ring shining in the light again to remind you of who he is and where he comes from. As handsome as he is today in his black henley and white t-shirt combo you'll never quite forget the fact that some MBA bro is perched in front of you like a puppy with nowhere to go.

"Sound out the cover, that should tell you," you boredly mumble before tucking back into the chair. His fingers peak over the spine, pushing the book down from the top. He pulls the leather chintz closer to yours with ease -- of course he does.

"Or you could tell me," he says with a softness you weren't ready to hear. Your chest gets warm again, creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

"It's Pride and Prejudice."

"S'that your favorite book or something?" he asks, elbow driving into his thigh so he can rest his chin on his fist.

"One of them," you shrug, "I always read it this time of year, kind of fits the mood of the season."

"Hm," he nods, like he's really listening, "What's it about?"

"Basically," you start, thinking of a way to describe it in two sentences or less, "It's like -- hm -- it's about two people, a love story. One guy is some super rich asshole and he's a jerk because the girl isn't as rich and him. And the girl isn't from the same social standing so she's a jerk because she already assumes that he's a super rich asshole. Like...I don't know, idiots in love who are too stubborn to love each other."

"Hm," he nods again, grin splitting his face, "Interesting."

"What's your favorite book?" you ask, wanting to wipe that smug grin right off his face. His dumb handsome face with that perfect sloped nose, and eyes that look like they're looking directly into you.

"I don't have one," he shrugs.

"You have to have one," you balk, "Like, even if it's one you read in school or something." "Hmm," he sits back up, leaning back in the chair with his hands resting just under his chest.

"You have to know how to read to run a business," you shrug.

"I know how to read, honey," he laughs, "I just don't have a favorite book."

"At least try," you ecourage, albiet annoyed. He taps his fingers on his diaphragm, one knee bouncing while he thinks about it. His shirt rides up just a smidge in the back, revealing a sliver of skin you didn't think you'd ever see.

"Shel Silverstein," he says finally, "Where the Sidewalk Ends."

"You didn't strike me as a poetry guy," you say, closing your book over your finger to hold your place.

"My mom went through this poetry phase -- and I'm my mother's son, so I had a poetry phase with her," he shrugs, "We wore that book out, think we had to get a second copy cause the first one was just like -- destroyed."

"Well that's...you know," you lean your head from side to side, "That's nice. It's cute."

"You'd know, right?" he smiles, that god damn smile Shel would write about in a new book. You'd bring back book burning just to throw it in the flames after it was published. He gets up, disappearing behind you for a moment and reappearing with your favorite green mug. He gingerly places it on the side table next to you.

"Compliments of the chef," he says, presenting it like a Michelin star meal.

You look at it, a perfect pour -- the cream rosetta leaf striking against the warm brown espresso. You can smell the caramel and maple already wafting off it, cinnamon sprinkled delicately on top.

"Um, thanks," you say quietly, taking the mug to your lips. He looks down at you eagerly when you take a sip, waiting for your reaction.

"Did you do something to it?" you ask before you take one.

"No I'm just -- damn, come on. I'm excited to see you try it," he sighs, "I worked hard on it."

"Fine, fine," you murmur, letting the latte flood onto your tongue. Its -- regrettably -- one of the best iterations of you've had in a while. The perfect creaminess without being too milky, enough caramel and maple without being too sweet, the espresso's bitterness cuts the sugar in just the right way to make it smooth. He knows he did it right by the way you go for a second sip without saying anything.

"I did good?" he quirks a brow.

"You did good," you nod.

"Good," he smiles, tapping the top of your chair, "'Cause Carl's putting it on the menu starting in November."

"How come?" you ask into your third sip, the steam billowing over your cheeks.

Steve lets his eyes flicker over your face slowly, offering a half shrug, "I told him to."

November brings the first pre-season snow, not that it mattered now that your favorite drink was a regular menu item now. Caramel and maple always in stock, espresso machine always on first thing in the morning.

You open twice a week now, seeing Steve more often than not. Dropping your key became less common now that he was normally at the door when you'd get there, ready to let you in.

"Another great day, right?" he'd tease.

Now that the holidays were in full swing the bookstore was busier than ever -- sales, bundles, events. You even started carrying children's coloring books and crayons in the kid's section; a whole set up just for kids to sit and color while their parent's browsed.

The stress was getting to you, constantly checking and rechecking the end of day sales versus last year, wanting to make sure everything was on a steady incline with a nice cushion for the next. It helped that the cafe seemed to be absolutely climbing in numbers since September. More and more people wanted to spend time over there, and the more time they spent the more time they looked at books or started reading. It wasn't shocking to see people checking out at the counter with a second coffee and a new book or two in hand.

You don't want it to be true, but you're sure the new barista had a play in what makes so many people stick around. You'd see the way Steve would flirt when he took orders, how he's listen to them intently, make every customer feel like they were the only person in the room.

At least that's how he'd make you feel when he caught your gaze from over the shelving, helping find books for new patrons from the college nearby. You both started to wave at each other at each passing glance, each look caught by surprise, each accidental yearning stare.

Mid-November greets you with a bitter chill, the very early morning doesn't even have the decency to greet with you the rising sun. It'll be atleast another half hour until then.

For the first time in a long time you don't drop the key, pushing into the store with ease. You waste no time turning the heat on, making sure the radiators bled a bit before hand. You rub your hands together while they settle in, putting your coat away in the cubby and switching out your shoes in the break room.

Opening on a Saturday morning isn't common for you, but it's the first event you've planned by yourself. A very simple read-along story telling with some kids from the neighborhood and their parents. You collected three solid winter time reads: The Mitten, The Snowy Day, and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. A solid hour of reading while the parents could peruse, or sit and watch while their kids tuned into a book instead of cartoons on Nick Jr.

Once you've given yourself the onceover for the morning you feel more confident about the upcoming next few hours. Your knit tights fit snugly over your legs, a touch sheered out with the stretch over your thighs but the pleats in your plaid maroon skirt cover that just fine, hitting just above your knees -- still covered, still sensible. Still cute enough to snag a single dad if one were to show up.

Your feet stay tucked in a pair of worn in platform mary-janes stolen from your sister's New York City closet when you went to visit her over the summer. The chunky knit sweater over the whole ensemble completes you, a spitting image of a 'caught on the street' look you saw in a Seventeen magazine that you still get delivered to you despite being well past the age group.

You thrifted the sweater with Steve in mind, it looked like something he'd wear.

Anyway.

As you set up the 'reading rug' in the cafe area you hear the familar unlocking of the door. The sun finally starting to seep in in golden shards through the panes, leaving squares of light on the wood floors and carpets below.

"Hey Carl!" you call out, "I got everything up and running for you."

You hear the keys jingle but not his smoker's cough, not his heavy steps finding their way to the cafe area. Instead you look up to see Steve with his hands on his hips, watching you struggle to move the leather chintz to the back wall as your reading chair.

"Redecorating?" he asks, looking around the cafe. Under his shearling lined aviator jacket is an open hunter green flannel you wouldn't expect to see him in, his white t-shirt underneath hugs tights to his chest and stomach. You unfortunately noticed how great of a view that is for you.

"Um," you started, looking around the room and the dissaray you seem to have made without realizing, "Why are you here?"

"Same reason your here," he says, stepping forward to shoo you away from the chair, "I'm on the payroll."

"You don't work weekends," you say, crossing your arms over your chest while he lifts the chair over the rug with a soft grunt.

"I do today," he says with a slight strain, "Where do you want this?"

"Uh," you start, "Just right in the center against the wall so everyone can see me."

"Oh, so you're reading to the kids this morning?" he laughs to himself after putting the chair down. He wipes his hands off on each other, shrugging off the jacket and holding it in one arm, "Bitter Betty is gonna entertain the young minds of Main Street?"

"Bitter Betty, huh?" you challenge, following him into the back room, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that's supposed to mean," he shakes his head.

"I am very sweet," you tell him, a serious edge to your voice, "There are so many customer reviews saying how sweet I am."

"Sure," he nods, putting his coat away in his cubby, "I bet there are; since y'know, you're selling them something."

"I'm not just nice when I'm selling something," you say softly, arms coming protectively across your chest. A frustration bubbles in your chest while you look at him, following him back out into the cafe so you can keep getting the place ready before the families start to show up, "You think you know everything."

"I don't," he shakes his head, smiling while he checks over the machines and gets the first pot of coffee started.

"Yeah, you do. You walked in here two months ago and swear you know everything," you huff, getting the cafe back to a place of organized coziness.

"Okay," he chuckles, "Whatever you say, boss."

"You're infuriating," you mumble under your breath.

"Got that caramel latte coming right up for you, by the way," he says warmly.

Your head turns to see him watching you, he smiles, "Maybe you're a little nicer after you've had a coffee."

You smile back, unable to stop it this time.

"So that's a yes, right?" he cocks his head, fingers drumming on the counter while he watches you. That Harringtom charm pumping out at full speed.

"Y-yeah," you nod, "Whatever. You gonna go chop down a tree, Harrington? What's with the flannel?"

He looks down at his shirt and then back up at you with a soft shake of his head, "I better hurry up and get that started for you."

The kids look up at you with starry eyes, their parents smiling along with their coffees, lattes, espressos, and pastries. The Mitten was a hit and The Snowy Day is so far showing up to be a great follow up.

You take your time to really point out the pictures and adding on to the story since all three of them are pretty short. However, you're finding that kids between two and five are pretty easy to entertain if you do enough counting and make enough sound effects. Maybe you should've been a kindergarten teacher -- or maybe not. Maybe you should just keep doing book events.

You're halfway through when you show the illustrations to the group again, listening to them ooh and ahh at all the snow.

"Did um -- Miss -- did you know -- it snowed? It snowed at my house," one of the older kids announces, arm straight up in the air.

"It snowed last week, Michael, that's right," his mom pipes up, "Daddy had to shovel outside."

"Has everyone else seen snow? Raise your hand if you've seen this much snow!" you announce in your perfect parentese, watching while the older kids and parents raise their hands. The two year olds don't really get it so they just sit there and laugh.

You look up at all the hands, an enthusiastic 'Wow!' coming out of your mouth -- but you barely hear it. Behind the hands are a set of warm amber eyes looking at you from the coffee bar, soft and gentle. Enthralled even. You swallow and lick your lips quickly before smiling, catching his smile back as you look back at the book to start again.

After each couple of pages you catch each other, the pink on his cheeks rising when he looks away -- pretending to be occupied with something else. Cleaning, organizing, resetting the espresso machine. He can tell you're flustered by the way you clear your throat whenever you start to read again.

After The Snowy Day you take a ten minute break so that the parents can take their kids to the bathroom or re-up their beverages. The tip jar is full to bursting because nobody knows how to make a single mom feel like Steve Harrington does; and husbands will pay anything to get him to leave their wives alone.

You reset your chair, making sure the books you're reading are on display for purchasing on the shelving close by in your Winter Children's Bundle for a discounted price. As the ten minutes closes up you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

"Here," you turn around to Steve with a green mug in his hands, "It's just regular coffee this time, but -- figured you could use it."

You take it body first, reaching around for the handle only to feel his fingers brush against yours at the hand of. The soft touch isn't electric like it is in the books, it's like that but better. Warm like an oven, the gooey parts of you rising in a slow bake when you see him look down and turn away -- running that same hand through his hair on his way back to the counter.

"Thanks," you say over the chatter of parents and kids coming back to sit.

"Can I have something ready for you for your break?" he asks back.

"Surprise me," you shrug, sitting back on your chintz chair and taking the final book onto your lap. The kids cheer when they see Snoopy on the cover, a well loved favorite cartoon to finish off their morning. With the crack of the spine you can already smell the sales coming once this little event is over.

You work through your break, ringing up and helping customer after customer on easily one of the busiest Saturday's you've seen in a while. It normally doesn't get busy like this at least for another couple of weeks.

The stress of working through lunch barely matters though because your event was a bigger success than you could've hoped for -- logging in the notes for Rochelle that you should probably start doing this throughout the season just for good measure.

It's starting to get dark by the time your shift ends and the store closes -- early on Saturdays at a tight 4 PM. You let your sales girl go a little early, wanting to take the time to close up the store properly since you were the one who made it such a mess this morning. As you start to put the chairs back that had been moved from the cafe to the children's section you hear him, fingers tapping on the counter.

"You didn't come by for your break," he says, "And I put a lot of effort into that drink."

"Sorry, we can't all be flirting through our shifts like you can, Harrington," you snark with a grin, flipping the last chair over onto it's accompanied table.

"You don't have to clean up the coffee part of the store," he says, coming around with another mug in hand, "That's my job, y'know."

"I know," you say, "But I kind of fucked it up this morning so -- just doing my part."

"Well, here," he says, mug outstretched in his large hand, gold ring gleaming back at you, "For doing your part, I guess."

"You guess, huh?" you laugh lazily, taking it -- he places his fingers in a way that you have no choice but to touch them. You wonder if he did it on purpose, "What do you call this one?"

"'Surprise me'," he replies in a mocking drawl, flipping the rag over his shoulder again and leaning against the counter's edge. The first sip is unfortunately one of the most even temperatured hot drinks you've put past your lips.

"You're good at this," you blurt out, almost offended.

"Well don't look so upset about it."

"I am upset about it," you nod back over the lip of the mug, taking another sip. Mocha -- something. It's like hot chocolate and espresso but better, still caramel, still cinnamon, like a hug from your past but caffienated like your present.

"Consider me surprised," you nod, licking your lips again, "It's good -- it's um -- yeah. It's really good."

"Thanks," he smirks, "A few of the mom's thought so, too."

You let out a sigh through your teeth, rolling your eyes. He expected that, taking a step forward when your gaze comes back to center. You can smell the left over wraiths of his cologne and Old Spice deodorant, count the moles on his neck adorned with his hidden gold chain, see the hair on his forearms from his rolled up sleeves.

"You know something," he says quietly, "If I didn't know any better -- I'd think you like me."

"Like you?" you balk, eyes widening, "You wish."

He clicks his tongue when you get so defensive because it just proves him right. He crosses his arms with another step forward, head cocking to the side slightly while he sizes you up. Why did his creator need to make his forearms so beefy? So perfectly sculpted that you can't look at them without losing your train of thought? Stupid.

"I don't think I have to wish, honey," he says softly, Doc Martins creaking on the wooden floors, "I think...uh, I think I must allow you to tell me how ardently you admire and like me."

Your mouth falls open, staring at him with eyes as glassy at the kids who watched you read this morning.

"You -- no -- you read it?"

"Maybe," he says, another step forward, his arms bumping against your chest.

"Maybe?" you ask back, brow quirking.

"Yeah, maybe I did," he runs a hand through his hair, falling back away from his face to show off his sturdy brow bone, watching you with admiration down the slope of his nose.

He reaches down and takes the mug out of your hand with smooth finesse, arm long enough to reach back and place it on the counter behind him. When he leans back in place he's closer than before, toe to toe, nearly nose to nose.

"Maybe I bought it the day you told me about it," he shrugs, "Maybe I thought it was pretty close to something I had goin' on with a girl I know."

"A girl you know?" you challenge. You know exactly who he means, but it might be fun to hear him say it. "Yeah, sometimes I only see her like, an hour a day. But sometimes I get to watch her read on her break, sometimes I get to close with her on Saturdays," he explains warmly, the timbre of his voice deep against the crackling of the fire in the back corner of the cafe.

"This is the only Saturday you've closed with me," you counter, head tilting up slightly, close enough that the tip of your nose brushes his.

"Who said I was talking about you, honey?" he murmurs back, mischief in his eyes that are half hidden by his eyelids. You feel a puff of his breath over your top lip, still minty fresh like he just brushed his teeth.

"We both know you're talking about me," you smirk, self satisfied while his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes. He steps at an angle, making you step back so you're against the pick up counter.

"So sure of yourself," he he scoffs quietly, leaning over you and getting into your space. Each hand coming to the side of you to lean on the granite, caging you in, "I like that in a pretty girl."

"Most do," you shrug matter of factly.

"Yeah," he nods, "Think that's what I like about you."

"Maybe that's what I like about you, too," you nearly whisper out.

"Maybe?" he asks, lower lip ghosting over yours. "Mayb--"

The hand he uses to run through his hair finds itself flat over the back of yours, sliding down to over your cheek and jaw where he keeps you angled just right. He closes the millimeters between you, warm lips catching yours in a kiss that feels like passion but a power play you want to match.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, heads moving in soft tilts when you change angles. When you find yourself sat on the edge of the counter he uses the leverage to pull you close to him, hips between the fullness of your thighs.

His tongue skates over yours when it slides into your mouth, free hand ridding up the soft material of your tights, tips of his fingers inching under the hem of your skirt in an innocent tease.

Even the way he breathes through it is sexy, leaving you with a lingering guess of what he can do when he presses his lips against your neck. Tongue flitting and striping while he nearly nips a bruise onto your skin. You let out a gentle gasp, enough to admit defeat to him -- much to your chagrin. Steve comes back up to your lips to meet you with a few final deep kisses before you break apart.

He steps back once, the deep golden light of the sun setting cracks through the panes of the back window in the cafe, adoring him in a glow that shines of his hair and eyes. The kind of glow they write about, the kind of glow you read about.

You both take deep breaths, eyes hungry for each other -- unsure if you should go for more. He lingers, coming forward again to rest his hands on your thighs.

"I didn't read it," he confesses. "Pfffft. Why am I not surprised?" you huff, exasperated.

"But! But, but, but," he argues back, pecking you feverishly, "I had to go to like, five different places to find the movie from 1980 so -- I did actually put some effort into it."

"I love that one," you say back.

"I get points for that, right?" he asks expectantly.

"Yeah, fine. You're luck you're cute," you explain, "But you do definitely have to read it, at some point. If you wanna keep making out with me in the cafe after closing."

"Oh, absolutely," he grins, hand reaching to pull you in by the back of the neck for a final searing kiss, "You'll have to teach me, remember?"

You of course start closing together every single Saturday.

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[stupidlovergirl]

TL;DR He's HOT! In which you get caught gushing about how into them you are, by them

Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan,Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor Dateables Version not edited

"What do I like about Lucifer?" you repeat back. "What is there not to like? He has a pretty good fashion sense, a mature vibe also-" you kept rambling, naming qualities you like about the eldest demon, from his physical qualities to his personality. 

He honestly couldn't believe his ears. He had just come to drop off some documents and ask questions. He didn't suspect that you and Diavolo would be talking about him, much less what you supposedly liked about him. The list must be quite great, as you have barely taken a breath and kept chattering off things.

"To sum it up, Lucifer is one the hottest men I've met. Mature with the just right amount of playfulness. Not to mention easy on the eyes" you finish, love sick look in your eyes

He stopped and waited before appearing a little while after. Diavolo could tell he heard, by the smug smirk he wore. You felt awkward, I mean you were literally JUST singing the man's praises. Giving the documents to Diavolo, Lucifer chatted a little before saying goodbye.

You immediately got called to his office after you came home. Man literally started quoting what you said as you rotted away in the chair in front of his desk. Don't worry, he's just having his fun before he tells you the feeling is mutual.

Mammon catches you talking to Asmo about him on one of your spa days. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop! Honest! You were just kinda loud and he could hear all that you were saying about him through the door.

“Have you SEEN his eyes Asmo? They are the prettiest shade of blue! Ugh, and his hair is so freaking soft. I have never been so in love. He can rob me blind as long as he just keeps smiling. I am so down bad. AND ANOTHER THING-!” you said, going on another tangent. 

Mammon is blushing sooo bad. He is so pumped you like him back! As you should, he IS your first man!!! He has no preservation instincts, so he yells in victory, fistpumping the air. Asmo gets on to him and they have an argument about how he needed to learn to stop that. You, on the other hand, are trying to hide.

Mammon kidnaps you (against all of Asmo's protest) and tells you that you should feel that way about him! He is the Great Mammon after all, your first man! He also stutters out that he likes you too. 

Leviathan does not know how the stars aligned, but he heard you and Beel talking in the kitchen. Well, you were talking as Beel scarfed down the entirety of the fridge and pantry. (He's hoping that his rainbow pizza is a survivor).

"He is just so dreamy, Beel. I don't know how he doesn't see it. His sunset eyes, his devotion to his games? Ugh, and when he goes on his nerd rants? Be still my beating heart!!" You exclaim dramatically. 

Through a muffled mouth of food, he hears his younger brother reply 

"Just tell him. I'm pretty sure he likes you back" 

"He's like a wild animal! Can't approach him to fast or he will run away!! Ugh, but I wanna kiss him so baddd"

He squeaks at that comment, quite loudly. The two of you come out of the kitchen, but Levi is GONE. He might have given away someone who was listening in, but he will not get caught.

Later in the week, he invites for an anime marathon, and makes it very obvious he knows. Just tell him there, he'll freak out, but accept anyways.

Honestly, it was your fault for talking about Satan in a library, especially quite close to the mystery novels.

He was looking for a novel, when he heard you and Mammon talking. He recalls that earlier in the week you two got in trouble for low quiz scores, so you must have been forced to stay here for so many hours.

"Ugh, he is so cute. I love him sooo much. He is so cute when he plays with the cats in the street. He looks so at peace and comfy I lose my mind. Not to mention, his ability to remember things? Iconic. He is the only reason I pass history. I have never felt this way before! I think Satan is, like, my perfect match."

"Good for you. Did you find a cheat sheet online?" Mammon replies boredly.

"I don't think Lucifer would appreciate you not even attempting the work, Mammon" Satan replies, startling both of you.

"Satan!" the both of you yell, in shock.

"H-how long have you been there?" You ask nervously. Oh, how cute is all Satan can think.

"Long enough"

He ignores it till Mammon and you finish your work, with his help of course. He tells you the feeling is mutual, and that he appreciates all the compliments.

Asmo was running late. It was usual, beauty takes time you know! It's also tasteful to be fashionably late, keeping suspense up. He does feel a little bad, as it is Solomon and you kept waiting. It was a cute new café that he had seen all over Devilgram, and just knew that the three of you had to go together.

He was about to yell out for you two, but he saw you passionately talking about something so he decided not to.

"He is just so pretty, Sol. Do you ever think he would be into me? He is completely out of my league, but maybe there's a small chance?? I could be, like, his funny little significant other who hypes him up!! I think Asmo would appreciate that, don't you?"

Solomon, who had noticed Asmo approaching, just shrugged. 

"I dunno, you ask him" is all he says, pointing at the object of your affections with a smirk.

Asmo is soooo happy!!!!! You and him are gonna be the prettiest couple to ever exist, and he tells you that right then and there. He announces that you're dating right on the spot, as you and he both obviously want to. You three have a good day out, and when you go home, Asmo spoils you as you both talk about how the other one is prettier.

Beel had just gotten out of a shower after a workout. He, you, and Belphie had a movie night planned. Aka, Beel gets snacks, Belphie sleeps through the entire thing, and you get to see something you have wanted to for a little bit while hanging out with the twins. It was a perfect win-win -win for all three of you. You and Belphie we're doing prep(you were while Belphegor slept the whole time) for when he came back in their room. So, when he heard you giggling in their room, Beel couldn't help but smile.

"He is so perfect, Belph! He cares so deeply for everyone, and is so kind. I dunno if I ever met such a sweetheart before. I think I should go for it, but I don't know. I figure I should ask you how he feels since he is your twin"

"Go for it" is all Belphegor replies with, sleep obvious in his words. He hears you laugh again, and then decides to open the door.

You look a little pale, and Belphie looks a little smug. He probably heard him coming down the hall, with his better hearing.

"Hey! So I thought-"

"You really feel that way?" Beel ask.

"Oh! You, uh, heard that. Yeah, I really do"

Ecstatic, he smiled so big when you said you were serious. Puppy boyfriend aquired baybee!!!!!!! You two watch the movie while holding hands and cuddling as best you could. Belphie appreciates you two being together but he's not giving up the best cuddle spot to indulge you two.

Belphie, Satan, and you had a scheduled Anti-Lucifer League meeting. The plan was to move everything in Lucifer's office half an inch to irk him. Belphegor had fallen asleep, so he came in a little later than you two. 

"He is so cute when he sleeps Satan! He literally acts like a cat! When he snuggles his head into my stomach I lose my mind!!! I might be reading into it too hard, but I think he might also like me back? Maybe I'm delusional, but it seems like it! I like Belphie so much, he makes me crazy"

"Criminally insane, crazy does not fully describe how in deep you are" Satan replies boredly, like he had heard this rant time and time again.

Belphie, is of course, happy. You like him! Him! Oh man, this is such a good day. He obviously acts like he doesn't know anything when he enters the room. You look awkward, and Satan is tired. After a day or two, he brings it up. He wanted to make you feel like he hadn't heard you. He makes fun of you for being so down bad, but accepts your feelings and tells you he feels the same. He might not show it, but he is also so into you it almost hurts.

[eddiesghxst]

i stumbled upon one of your drabbles where eddie says “i’m sorry just…jesus christ, you’re so fucking warm.” on my tl and IM GOING INSANE but thank you tho give me more🤭 please and thank you

ah yes, pathetic loser!eddie🫶

tw: cum eating (? is that what it’s called ? idk, don’t care. eddie eats u out after coming inside u and it’s hot)

(refer to this post for context)

———

thinking about how even though you tell him a million times that it’s okay and you thought it was hot, he still feels terrible. he says something like, “i gave you all that build up just to put out in like 5 minutes.” and you smile, leaning up to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “it was roughly 2 minutes, but that’s neither here nor there.”

a heavily decorated hand presses it’s entirety to your face and shoves you away as you giggle, falling onto your back as he clambers on top of you. “stop making fun of me.” he grumbles into your skin, lips pressing sloppy kisses down your neck. your fingers slip into his hair, knuckles curling to softly scratch at his scalp. “i’m not, it’s cute. you’re cute, eddie.”

he looks up from where he’s pressing kisses to your bare stomach now, gazing up at you for a moment before bringing himself up to eye level with you. he kisses you and you hum as his hands part your legs, greedily squeezing the soft skin on the inside of your thighs. “i wanna make you come… wanna see how pretty you look, how whiney you get.” your center throbs at his words and you nod your head, heavily swallowing when he begins his descent down your body once again.

you find it hard to keep your hips still when he finally comes to eye level with your pussy, parting your thighs even further as he settles on his tummy. you can feel him still leaking out of you, and your face heats up at the sensation and how exposed you feel with eddie’s eyes tracing over every exposed piece of you.

“y-you don’t have to, eddie…” your voice is just above a whisper, snapping eddie out of his daze to look up at you. “i uh… i get it, some guys don’t really enjoy doing that so…” you begin to close your legs, but eddie is persistent, holding your legs open and diving in to lick a thick stripe of your pussy, a mixture of your arousal and his cum coating his tongue. you gasp, quickly followed by a pitiful moan as he begins greedily sucking and licking and lapping.

and yeah, eddie may have finished quickly, but he definitely made up for it because eddie eats pussy like he gets fucking paid to do it.

[daddy-dotcom]

The Visit

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Things aren’t looking good for Spencer after his visit to Mexico. So you decide to prepare for the worst, and you knew getting married was the only surefire way to stay connected while he was locked up.

Rating: M

Words: 5,333

Warnings: Language, typical canon violence, smut (fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex)

*Disclaimer: Major inaccuracies for how the American prison system works lol*

TL;DR: Spencer and Reader get married so that they can have conjugal visits while he's in prison.

__________________________________________

I couldn’t bear to see him like this. Even worse, I couldnt bear to not be able to hold him and tell him everything was okay. Seeing him behind bars, alone, was enough to make me fight back tears. I’ve seen him hurt before, but this was different. It was almost as if I were staring at the ghost of Spencer Reid. I knew going to Mexico to get his mother’s medication was risky, but I had no idea that he’d end up in this much trouble. I should have stopped him. I should have gone with him. But no matter how guilty I was feeling, the damage was already done. With no concrete evidence that he was framed, it looked like Spencer was most likely going to be found guilty for murder. The love of my life was going to prison and I was completely helpless in the situation. At least I thought I was. . .until an idea struck me. An insane idea, and somewhat of a long shot, but an idea nonetheless, some small way to help Spencer keep his sanity while he was locked up. I wasn’t sure if he would go for it, but I had to try.

“hey, Spence,” I said with my face pressed against the cool metal of the bars.

“hi, (Y/N)” he said with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“you’re looking more like yourself, baby. And they’re letting you come home with us on the jet.”

He slowly nodded his head in agreement, unsure of what else to say. For a man who typically had so much to say, it was eerie to be in such a silent room.

It’s now or never.

“So Spence, you know I was thinking, in case the…the unthinkable happens, and you aren’t acquitted…” I was fighting back the tears, trying to get my idea across,

“…maybe we should…I think it might be a good idea if we…get married?”

He immediately looked up to meet my gaze, looking more alive than he has the entire time we’ve been in Mexico.

“Married?” he said softly.

“Well it would only be so I can visit you, Spence. I mean like visit you visit you, without all the guards watching us and in a place where I can actually hold you and spend more time with you. Hell, I can’t even hug you for more than a couple seconds during a regular visit”

I could see the gears turning in his mind, something I’ve seen a million times, but I couldn’t tell if he was actually considering my offer.

“It’s been a year Spence, it’s not like we haven’t talked about it.”

It’s true. We’ve been dating for over a year now, and we’ve both made it clear that we’d like to marry each other some day. But we never imagined it would be this soon and under these circumstances.

Spencer got up from the bench he’d been sitting on and came over to hold my hand through the bars.

“Even if I weren’t facing prison time…it would be an absolute honor to marry you, (Y/N)”

All of the tension in my body melted away now that I knew he was on board with my proposition. I gave him a warm smile as he gently cupped my face in his hands. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead and held onto my hand before getting down on one knee.

“If we’re going to do this, I’d at least like to propose to you properly,” he said, with as much of a smile as he could muster.

“(YFN/YLN), will you marry me?” he asked.

The dam finally broke and I couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They began to stream down my face as I let out a firm and resounding “Yes.”

______________________________

I was practically squirming in my seat on the plane ride home. It was almost impossible to keep this secret and it took everything I had not to blurt out our plan. I knew that I had to tell them soon, since we were going to need their help to make this happen. With a deep breath, I pulled Spencer up from our seats and marched over to the rest of the team.

“Guys, Spencer and I have an announcement to make,”

“Oh my god you’re not pregnant, are you?” said JJ.

“No! No, it’s not that,” I replied, I hesitated before dropping the bomb.

“Spencer and I are getting married.”

Prentiss and JJ exchanged a confused look while Alvez’s mouth hung open in shock. Rossi, however, seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“Oh I get it, you two want to get married so that (Y/N) can request ‘family visits.’” The implications of putting the word ‘family visits’ in airquotes was not lost on me. “You all might of heard of what they used to call them back in the day: conjugal visits.”

“Actually the practice conjugal visits have evolved into a more family oriented experience. Modern family visits usually last the weekend and include children and other family members besides just a spouse.”

“Glad to see you’re almost back to normal, kid” quipped Rossi.

“Well if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need some help. Prentiss, do you have anyone that can meet us at Quantico and marry us on such short notice?” I asked.

“I’m already making the call.”

“Does anyone else think this is just a little bit crazy? There’s a good chance that Spence won’t even go to prison at all,” JJ said.

Alvez snapped out of his daze and interjected.

“I agree, but if Reid and (Y/N) get to spend some alone-time together in the event that he does go, I don’t see the harm. I mean come on, Rossi’s been married like what, five times?”

“Hey, it’s only been three times,” Rossi responded.

“Look, JJ, you would do it for Will, wouldn’t you?”

She paused for a minute, pondering my question.

With a sympathetic look, JJ responded

“of course I would.”

_________________________________

As soon as we landed, we were greeted by Garcia and the court officiant who Prentiss had called on the plane. Garcia nearly tackled us coming out of the elevator, completely overjoyed to see Spencer home in one piece.

“Oh I’m so glad you’re all home safe!” she said squeezing us in a tight embrace.“But I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement via a text from Alvez!”

“Sorry Penn, it was super last minute,” I said with a shrug.

“I brought you some things while you were on the plane ride home. (Y/N), for you I got a white dress, sorry I had to guess on the size, and Reid I asked your mom’s nurse if it was okay to grab a clean suit from your apartment.”

“Oh Penn, you didn’t have to do all this. Where did you even find a dress on such short notice?”

“Emily’s not the only one with connections sweet cheeks,” she said with a wink.

“Thank you so much, really Penn I appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me, now you and boy-wonder go get dressed so we can get you hitched.”

I took the bag from Penelope and inspected its contents once inside the bathroom. It was a simple but gorgeous white gown. It came down to about my calves, and it had white cap sleeves with a sweetheart neckline.

Classy. The woman has good taste.

I took a deep breath before exiting the stall, and I was greeted by Penelope, Emily, and JJ standing by the sink.

They all turned their heads towards me and gasped before looking me up and down.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said Emily.

“Spence is definitely gonna cry when he sees how gorgeous you look,” added JJ.

The tears had already started streaming down Penelope’s face as she walked over to me and placed one of her bracelets on my wrist.

“There, now you have your something blue,” she said with teary eyes. “You make the most beautiful bride (Y/N)”

“I’d love to stay in here and continue this little bachelorette party but our court official is waiting out there to marry our two lovebirds,” said Emily.

With one final look in the mirror, I took a deep breath and headed out the door, on my way to officially become Mrs. Spencer Reid. The reality of marriage hadn't hit me until just now. Who can blame me? I'd only become someone's fiancé about 5 hours ago. My palms began to sweat as my priorities shifted towards my impending marriage. Even if I wasn't ready, it was my idea in the first place and I intended to keep my end of the bargain. I, however, was more worried about Spencer. What if he was having second thoughts? I barely brought the idea up to him a few hours ago, and he was coming off of drugs in a Mexican jail cell when he agreed. Just as I was begging to spiral, a hand grazed the side of my waist and Spencer appeared. He cleaned up surprisingly well given the circumstances, looking incredibly handsome in his suit.

"Nervous?" he asked. As a profiler and a genius, there was no way I was going to be able to conceal my nerves from him.

"Spence, don't you know you're not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony?" I joked.

"(Y/N), you know I don't believe in superstitions," he said wryly.

"But yes, I am little nervous, mostly because I was afraid you might be having second thoughts."

He smiled warmly, the same way he had done when he agreed to marry me earlier in the day.

"Living in Vegas, and working with Rossi, I've known quite a bit of people who've gotten married on a whim. While it might be a little sooner than we thought, it's giving me a chance to hold you close in case I..." his voice began to crack and I could see his eyes welling up, "...in case I get taken into custody. But trust me, (Y/N), there was never a doubt in my mind about marrying you, especially now that I'm seeing how beautiful you look in a wedding dress."

I was tearing up too, at this point, for about the fifth time today. I took both of his hands in mine and simply said "I love you Spence,"

"I love you too, (Y/N)."

____________________________________________

We walked hand in hand into the briefing room where everyone was waiting anxiously for us and Spencer and I took our place across from each other in front of the court official. We joined hands once more and I could see Penelope shoot me a thumbs while Alvez gave Spence a reassuring pat on the back. The official began to speak which caused my heart to practically beat out of my chest.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight to join this man and this woman in matrimony."

He turns toward Spencer before speaking again.

“Spencer, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do” he said while maintaining my gaze. I could see tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, causing my eyes to well up too. But I couldn’t cry, because if I started now, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

“(Y/N), do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

“I do,” I manage to say with a lump forming in my throat.

The court official turns back to Spencer and asks him to repeat after him.

"I, Spencer Reid, take you (Y/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” I could hear his voice start to crack as he fought back more tears, “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

He said this with such conviction that there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to marry this man. I’d never seen his eyes so full of love before. It was those kind eyes looking back at me that turned one of the worst days into the happiest day of my life. Now, it was my turn to recite my vows and officially become Mrs. Reid.

“I, (YFN/YLN), take you, Spencer Reid, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

It took everything in my power not to become a blubbering mess during my vows. Penelope, however, had no problem letting the tears flow freely down her rosy pink cheeks.

"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The court official gave a small smile before turning to Spencer and saying “you may kiss the bride."

Spencer wasted no time moving his hands to sit comfortably on my hips and I pulled his face in close for a kiss. This was something we’d done a million times before, but never for an audience. As soon as his lips touched mine, however, it felt as if we were the only two people in the room. All the exhaustion, pain, and suffering from the events of Mexico seemed to melt away as we kissed. He continued to press his lips more forcefully against mine and I could feel the slightest brush of his tongue before a voice spoke up from the crowd.

“Alright you two save it for the honeymoon,” Rossi joked.

We slowly pulled away and both our our cheeks began to blush like teenagers who’d just been caught by their parents. One by one, our team members came over to congratulate us and Penelope and JJ wanted a million pictures. We spent the rest of our night talking, laughing, and even dancing with our team members, just happy to find joy in this moment of darkness. Little did we know, Mexico was only the beginning of our troubles.

________________________________

Our wedding celebrations were cut short with the announcement that the FBI would not be legally representing Spencer since he broke protocol and didn’t inform them of his trip to Mexico. Once he went to trial, we still had no concrete evidence that he was framed, and his DNA was found on the murder weapon. Our worst nightmare had finally come true. Spencer was taken into custody and and whisked away to prison. A small part of me was grateful that I was now legally his wife, but I still wished that it didn’t have to happen under these circumstances. The day he was taken to prison, I immediately applied to be granted family visits and I begged Prentiss and Alvez to call in every favor they could to get moved up the waitlist. It was going to take a couple of months for Spencer to prove he was behaving in prison, but I could still visit him regularly before then. A couple of weeks after he was taken into custody, he was finally allowed to have visitors, and the team all unanimously agreed that I should be his first one. I wasn’t granted a family visit just yet, but I needed to see his face and finally be able to talk to him.

As I walked into the Millburn Correctional Facility, I was searched, went through a metal detector, and searched again before I was led into a room filled with a long partition and chairs on either side. I found a seat in the corner that had no one on either side of me and waited for Spencer to arrive. I nervously tapped my finger on the table as I anxiously waited to see my husband for the first time since he was taken to prison. I turned my head to see a tall, lanky figure in a white t-shirt and blue pants with a matching blue button up walking towards me. I could see his eyes light up when he spotted me and I could feel my entire being do the same.

“Hi baby,” I said, just happy to finally see him.

“Hi my love,” he replied with a ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. I could tell he was slightly thinner and probably not sleeping well. However, his casual outfit combined with his shaggy hair and the growing stubble on his face somehow made him even more attractive.

“You look good baby, you holding up okay so far?”

“I'm doing okay, given the circumstances. How's my mom? Is she doing alright?"

"She's doing fine actually, Cassie said that she was having a really good day yesterday."

"Where did you, uh, tell her I was?"

"Uh, the beach," I told him with a chuckle, "well she asked if that's where you were and it seemed to make her happy so..."

"Good."

There was a pause and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his gaze. He wasn't breaking eye contact either and I could feel the love behind his stare.

"I, uh, I'm really happy to see you," he said, "I kind of wish you hadn't come, it's uh, not the best idea."

His words hurt slightly, but I knew the state that his mind was in. He didn't want to become a target and he definitely didn't want me to see him like this.

"Sorry Spence, but you're stuck with me," I said with a smile, "you got stuck with me the day you agreed to be my husband. And the last time I saw you, we promised for better or for worse. Besides, this is just the beginning, I've already applied for family visit privileges and we should be getting a date any day now. You don't know how badly I wish I could just hug you, Spence."

I saw him look down, I'm assuming in an attempt to fight back tears, before he spoke again.

"Thank you, (Y/N). I'm so grateful everyday that you're now my wife. But if you're here, that means you're not out working on a case, and I don't want to be a burden."

"That's nonsense Spence, you could never be a burden to me."

"Tell me about the case then, it will help get my mind off... all this."

I proceeded to give him the details of our latest case and I assured him that the rest of the team would be coming by to check in on him and visit him as well. It pained me that I couldn't hug or kiss him goodbye, but I held out hope that it wouldn't be long before I finally could.

While our team members were busy taking turns visiting Spencer in prison, I decided to start writing him letters. Most of them consisted of me catching him up on cases and my personal life, or lack thereof, while others were love letters that expressed just how much I truly missed him. Even though Spencer Reid is a certified genius and an excellent agent, at the end of the day he was still just a man and I knew that the stress that came with being in prison combined with not being able to touch me everyday was likely driving him insane. Luckily, our prayers had been answered and all of the favors from Prentiss and Alvez came through. I finally received a date for my family visit with Spencer, which would be three weeks from now. In the meantime, I began penning a letter to Spencer to tell him the good news. But this wouldn't be one of our typical letters; this letter was going to be much dirtier in nature. I had to admit that I too was starting to feel the effects from the lack of physical contact. So in my letter, I was going to tell him exactly what I wanted to do with him at our "family visit."

_______________________________

The day had finally arrived. Not only was I going to be able to see my husband, I was going to be able to hug him, touch him, hold him, and kiss him…among other things. In all honesty, I was just excited to see him with some semblance of normalcy. I had been researching spousal visits for the past three weeks, and the general consensus was that all of these women were dressing to impress. So I put on my nicest skirt, tight-fitting one that I had previously purchased with the intention of wearing to work but it was slightly too short for the office, and a floral blouse with spaghetti straps that was just low-cut enough to see the top of my cleavage. I paired the outfit with nude stilettos and fixed up my hair and makeup as nicely as I could. While my outfit certainly didn’t leave everything to the imagination, I still had to maintain a certain level of modesty. After all, I was still a federal agent.

The search process for spousal visits was much more intense, so much so that I couldn’t even bring my phone into the room with me. I was, however, allowed to bring books and a chess set for Spencer. I made my way through a longer hallway than the one I had gone through the last time, which led out to a courtyard where a row of temporary buildings sat. I was then escorted into one of the 4 rooms in the building and I was instructed to wait for the guards to bring Spencer in. I sat with my legs crossed on the bed in the middle of the room, which was unsurprisingly bare. The room resembled a somewhat nice motel room, with a kitchenette in one corner, a couch in the other, and a separate bathroom. The only sounds I could hear in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the pounding of my heart in my chest. I wasn't nervous to see my husband, it was actually just the opposite. I was positively inpatient at the thought of finally being able to make physical contact with the love of my life. In an effort to distract myself, I poked around the bedside table, knowing damn well what I was going to find. There were more innocent items in the drawer, like soap and toothpaste, and right next to it were lubricant and condoms. We won't be needing those, I thought to myself with a smirk forming at the corner of my lips. I was startled by a knock at the door and quickly shut the door. I quickly adjusted my top and fixed my hair before replying.

"Come in!"

The door slowly swung open to reveal a handcuff-free Spencer standing in the doorway. He stood frozen in place, looking at me in disbelief that I was actually here. I stood up from my spot on the bed and ran over to give him the biggest hug. I squeezed my arms around his torso and buried my face in his chest. We stood like this for a moment, in the doorway, just familiarizing ourselves with each other once again.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, Spence."

I finally lifted my head up to get a good look at him while snaking my hands up to cup is face.

"Trust me, I've probably been more desperate to hug you than you have,"

"Oh really?" I asked with raised eyebrows, "you know this isn't a competition right?"

"Oh, I know. But if it was, I would win," he said, with the slightest hint of a playful smirk.

I took Spencer's hand in mine and pulled him over to my spot where I was sitting when he arrived. Our hands stayed connected as we sat side by side on the edge of the bed. While I was admittedly aroused at the thought of finally being able to make love again, all of those thoughts melted away when I finally saw him. Truthfully, I was just happy to spend some quality time with him and give him a break from this awful situation.

"How have you been since the last time I saw you, love?"

"I've been doing okay, mostly trying to keep my head down. I guess you could say I made a friend, though. His name is Calvin Shaw-"

"The agent who killed his informant?!" I exclaimed.

"Well yes, but he's the only one who knows I'm a federal agent and he's been pretty generous. Getting me moved to my own cell, giving me books and playing chess with me."

I gently placed a kiss on his forehead and began to stroke his beautiful veiny hand with my thumb.

"I'm just happy you're not completely alone in there baby"

"I've managed to make some connections, but what's been keeping me going is the thought of seeing you. I've actually been looking forward to this since the last time we spoke. . . and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that letter you sent me."

A wicked smile crept onto my lips as I realized which letter exactly he was referring to.

"Oh that letter! I'm glad you enjoyed it baby, I meant every word. I've been missing you in more ways than one. . ." I said, moving my free hand to his thigh. He inhaled deeply at my touch and his gaze was locked on mine.

"Well you don't have to miss me anymore, love, I'm right here. If we're being honest, I don't think I'll be able to focus on our conversation until I've had my way with you," he said, moving one hand to slide his fingers into my hair. I melted into his touch then I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"You can have me, baby, any way you want," I replied, trying my best to look up at him with doe eyes.

He forcefully leaned in to place his lips on mine, and now both of his hands were tugging at my hair. This kiss was passionate, but in a way we've never experienced before. Since we've met, we've never spent more than a few days apart. This kiss was different, it was filled with longing and desperation. Months of going without physical contact has finally led to this moment. The moment when dam finally breaks and the sexual tension that's been building in our written correspondence comes to the surface.

One hand stayed pulling my hair while the other made its way to my breast. Equally touch starved, I moved my hand up his thigh to palm the now evident bulge forming in his pants. He hissed in response and I used then opportunity to force my tongue further into his mouth. He began to suck on it and I moaned into him at the feeling. He abruptly moved from my mouth and started working down towards my neck."

"You know," he said, breathlessly, between kisses "after you sent me that letter, I couldn't help myself. I'm lucky I have my own cell, I had to get some relief or else I would've gone insane."

"You're not the only one baby, " I replied in a daze as he continued tome further down my neck, "I would touch myself at night wishing it was your fingers inside of me."

He grunted at my words and buried his face in my breasts.

"You wore this top just for me didn't you?"

"Mhm, just for you."

"I think it's time we see what's underneath," he said as he pulled the shirt swiftly over my head. My lips crashed back into his and I made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt. I wasn't used to seeing Spencer in a white t-shirt, so I soaked up the image as best I could before pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor.

"You said you missed my fingers, baby?" I sighed a resounding "yes" before he moved his hands up my skirt, barely brushing his fingertips against my panties. I moaned at the contact, and I felt him smirk against my lips before pushing my panties aside and inserting a digit into my wet folds.

"Fuck, Spencer" I groaned as his long fingers stretched inside me.

"You're so tight, love. You really did miss me stretching you out, didn't you?"

"Yes!" I yelled and he began to pump his fingers in and out.

The room filled with the sounds of our moans and Spencer pumping in and out of me. I could feel a familiar pressure tightening in my abdomen, but I needed more of him. I knew he needed me too because I could see his erection straining through his pants. It's almost as if he read my mind because he removed his fingers and placed them in my mouth.

"Fuck, I need you so badly, (Y/N)," he said as I sucked on his fingers.

Not bothering to take off my skirt, I laid back on the bed as he pushed up the fabric and pulled off my panties. He undid his own pants and threw them haphazardly onto the floor along with his underwear. He brushed his fingers along my now exposed cunt, gathering my arousal on his fingertips.

"You're so wet for me baby, it's driving me insane."

He slid his hard length along my pussy, which earned a moan from the both of us before he pushed the tip into me.

"Oh my god, Spence," I whined. He was stretching me out so well since I haven't had him inside me in weeks.

"Baby you're so tight," he said, letting his mouth hang open in pleasure.

"Please, Spence. . .fuck me," I pleaded. He wasted no time and began to give me deep strokes. I moaned at every thrust, which only motivated him to thrust harder and deeper. His pace became relentless as the tip of his length was now hitting my cervix.

"Fuck, Spencer, come for me. I want you to fill me up, baby."

"Anything for you, love," he said, giving me everything he has.

"I want your babies Spencer, please!" I screamed, knowing full well that I was on the pill and that wasn't going to happen. . . yet.

That was all it took for him to spill his load inside of me. We both became moaning messes as he came. Once he was finished, he rolled off of me and ran to the bathroom to help me clean up. I went to pee, and when I returned, Spencer laid his head on my chest and we sat, cuddled in silence, until nightfall. Under the cover of darkness, I could hear quiet sobs coming from Spencer and I felt little drops of tears on my breasts.

"Baby are you okay? What's wrong my love?" I said, raking my hands through his soft wavy locks.

"I don't want to go back in there," he said, like a child, in barely more than a whisper.

"I wish I could stay here with you indefinitely. I wish I never had to sleep apart from you again. I was trying to be strong for you, (Y/N), but it's so much worse than I imagined."

I didn't press him for details, but I couldn't help but begin to cry in sympathy.

"Listen to me, Spence. I can't even being to understand what you're going through, but you are the strongest person I know. I also know that you have a team of people behind you who love you and will stop at nothing to prove you're innocent. Just remember that every time you're lonely or scared, baby. And we'll keep visiting you and sending you letters and books, anything we can do to keep your mind busy."

"Thank you, my love," he said, slowly rising up to plant a kiss on my lips.

"For better or for worse remember?"

"For better or for worse."

He spent the rest of the night lying on my chest as I stroked his hair and lulled him to sleep, avoiding the dread of being separated in the morning for as long as we could.

_________________________________________

AN: Finally finished this fic omg it was a long time coming. But I've been busy in medical assisting school and this one required a lot more research than my previous works lol. But finally happy with the result and please show it some love. Thanks to all my moots for believing in this :)

Taglist:

@reidscaffeine @swaggysagiewagie@v-i-o-l-e-t@louderfortheback

@sadroses98@lauravegann @coldoaftoadzipper-blog@avis-writeshq@inkwriter122 @bitchysweetskitty @cryingoverfelix@whyisitdifferent@namjoonspinkytoenail@thatsonezesty13 @singinghamtaro-blog@abbeyskeff@cassie444

[feyhunter78]

Dinosaurs - Nerd!Miguel

Description: While studying together, you find out just how much of a nerd Miguel really is, but lucky for him, you like it.

Artist cred: tamspeaches on Twitter! S/O to @chrishy973 for the idea <3

The door to the study room is closed, the florescent lights above cold and flickering, the light wood table plastered over with finisher and study materials. The air conditioning is on, you can feel the cool air against your skin, hear the hum of it as it whirls and swirls around the room. And Miguel is talking, about something that is way out of your realm of understanding.

“So, once you splice the previously modified DNA together, you should in theory be able to create a hybrid with the best set of traits from each species. But what about the negative traits, right? Well, that’s why you have to make sure you look at each individual nucleotide base pair to ensure you weed out the defects.” Miguel says, waving his pen in the air as he talks, his notebooks open in front of him.

You nod, resting your head in your hand, your elbow up on the table as you listen and try to not zone out, his words going in one ear and out the other. “Okay yeah, got ya, makes sense.”

“And so that’s where they messed up in the new Jurassic Park movies, they didn’t look at the base pairs, they just tried to create the scariest dinosaur they could without thinking of the potentially defects.” He continues. “If I were to repeat that experiment, I’d start small, try to weed out the high levels of aggression in smaller dinosaurs—like the early Cretaceous Microraptor, it only weighed a few pounds—and then work my way up.”

Wait shit he’s talking about Jurassic Park? You definitely missed the part where he veered away from real science and into movie science.

“Sounds like they should’ve hired you.” You say with a smile, leaning forward to push his glasses up from where they had fallen.

Miguel seems to short circuit, blinking rapidly at you, his lips parted, his chest caught in the expanse of breath. “I um—yeah, yeah, I’d love to work there.”

He’s so handsome, and he’s wearing that blue shirt you like, the one that clings to him and shows off every inch of his well-defined upper body. The urge to grab his bicep surges through you, but you push it down.

Stop being a creep, y/n.

“It’d be so dangerous, though.” You comment, glancing down at your perfectly manicured nails to distract yourself from the Greek god before you. They were red, Miguel’s favorite color. He noticed them the second you sat down, actually took your hand in his and ran his thumb over the glossy surfaces. “Good thing it’s not real.”

Miguel’s brain reboots, and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m sorry, sometimes I get carried away. I hope I didn’t bore you too much.”

You shake your head, leaning back in your chair. “No, no, I like hearing you talk about this stuff, you get so passionate and confident, it’s like a whole different Miguel.”

He deflates a little, and you sit up, your hand falling on his shoulder and squeezing. “Not that I don’t like you as you normally are, it just—you seem happier when you’re talking about all this nerd stuff and I like seeing you happy, sue me.”

His knee brushes against yours, sending butterflies scattering through your stomach as he turns away from you ever so slightly, facing his open laptop once more. “I like seeing you happy, too.” He says quietly, so quiet you almost don’t catch it.

You bite your lip to keep your smile from escaping and decide to let him keep his secrets as you go back to your homework.

Miguel O'Hara masterlist

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan

[etheries1015]

Lyney x reader who was never a fan of magic.

"Its...fun. I can see why other people find it so entertaining. I just...do not enjoy being lied to, or deceived. So I try to pick it apart. I'm sorry for taking the fun out of it."

No lies, no tricks, full trust. He tries his best to convince you that magic is just fun , he's always doing the tricks that will ease you into trust. A flower from behind your ear, romantic gestures that make your heart flutter.

He loves when you show up to his shows despite your disposition. Seeing you front row even though knowing you're not as entertained, always makes him smile. You're there for him, supporting him, and so he always makes sure tl send a wink your way or manage to drop a rainbow rose in your lap when nobody else noticed.

Lyney tries, for the most part, to avoid doing tricks that may make you uncomfortable. Such as popping out of nowhere, or something of yours going missing and he was the culprit, or dissapearing before your eyes (he had done that once, you had panicked.) However magic is apart of his life! Its what brought him joy! You knew this, so you gave an equal amount of work trying to rethink and rewire your brain to come to terms that...magic isn't always just deception.

For him, you're willing to try <3

"And what's this behind your ear, my darling?" He said dramatically, you folding your arms and raising your eyebrows. You let out a slight sigh with a roll of your eyes yet and amused smile upon your lips.

"I wonder what it could possibly be...." You entertained his silly little game. For the nth time he pulled from behind your ear, a...bouquet of flowers?

You stared mildly bewildered. "How did you- huh? How'd you manage to get an entire boquet past me? Where'd you hide it?" Lyney chuckled. He knew you couldn't help picking apart the magic to deduct what had happened, but he ignored your question and simply pushed the boquet into your arms and pulled you into a hasty kiss.

"Come now my dear, the mystery is apart of the beauty! Now, Im going to do another magic trick- close your eyes and by the time I count to ten-"

"Lyney..."

He grabbed hold of both of your hands, pressing his forehead against your own

"And by the time I count to ten, we shall be at a wonderful restaurant for a beautiful date! Do you trust me?" He asked, with a twinge of insecurity causing his voice to tremble at the question. You didnt miss a beat before closing your eyes and nodding.

"Of course I trust you. Blow my socks off, mr. Magician."

<3

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 267

TL;DR - Cale and Alberu tease each other. Cale meets Pope Kesilia. Raon is curious about DHB's name. Raon's friendliness warms Kesilia's heart.

The Teasing First half of the chapter was Cale and Alberu teasing each other.

Alberu: In that virtual world, levels have a huge impact. Even if Rank 1 Ahn Roh Man is on our side, it's only proper for me to become as strong as possible. That way, I can carry you, CH, and Raon. Raon: Human, what is carry? What are levels? Alberu: I'll tell you more when you return to Roan. But let me say this. This place, this place is really… It's a new and huge world. As if several worlds came together. Cale: You're having fun now, right? Alberu: … Cale: It's fun, right? Alberu: … Cale: You're having fun so you pull all-nighters, right? Alberu: … *smiles* Cale: You look awkward, so don't smile. Alberu: You truly are irreverent. Cale: For The Irreverent Emperor to say that, I truly appreciate it. Alberu: …

Cale calling out Alberu for saying he was irreverent/disrespectful when Alberu's in-game name was The Irreverent Emperor was so funny. 😂 The sarcasm in Cale's words as he says that line while using polite language was just 🤣🤣🤣

Cale: You tend to work hard at everything, don’t you? So, as you played, you probably learned about the fun of the game. Anyway, since you are the one handling it, take care of yourself. Alberu: Cale Henituse. Aren’t you speaking too casually? feels annoyed Cale: Not really. I say this out of utmost respect and consideration for the crown prince. Could it be that His Highness the Crown Prince also- Alberu: ??? frowns Cale: grins Would you like to faint and collapse like me? Oh, will you have a nosebleed? I don't know if this will make you healthier. Hahaha! Raon: Human, human! The crown prince's pride looks very hurt right now! Cale: Hahaha! gets more excited upon hearing Raon's words Alberu: … I've come to my senses. Pfft. Cale: (Hmm? Why is he suddenly smiling suspiciously? Why does it make me feel upset?) Alberu: Cale Henituse. Do you think that is possible? Cale: … Raon: I don’t think the crown prince will end up like my human! Hong: That’s right! That’s what our youngest said! On: The difference between exercising and not exercising is quite big. You can't compare to the crown prince. If His Highness needs to be compared to someone, a knight is the best. Cale: sees On pitying him … Alberu: Hahaha! On: patting Cale's leg to comfort him

Cale's attempt to tease Alberu's health completely backfired on him. 🤣🤣🤣

Raon and Kesilia Raon was so cute today. Pope Kesilia was depicted as a character obsessed with dragging down everyone with her, but now that she met Raon, it might be possible that she would have a change of heart.

Raon asked for her name, but Kesilia refused to say it, being fine with just being called the pope. Raon was being friendly with her, not minding that she was a mixed blood dragon, so she felt confused. He even offered to introduce Cale's DHB to Kesilia if she wanted friends.

There was also Raon noticing that she was in pain, and offering again to introduce her to his mom and Eruhaben who helped with treating DHB's pain. Kesilia felt strangely warm at Raon treating her nicely.

DHB's Name Oh my goodness, the author finally remembered this! We still did not get a name reveal, but Cale confirmed that he had already thought of one after putting much thought in it.

But our cutie Raon did not believe Cale, and was asking the pope for her name in hopes that Cale would get inspiration from hearing the name of another mixed blood dragon. And then, Raon made a cute assumption.

Raon was talking about DHB, and blurted that DHB was called someone Miru. Hmm... why is this hard to word? It's something like ____ Miru. Blank Miru? That doesn't sound right. Whatshisname Miru? Sounds better, but still strange.

Everyone was surprised to hear that, even Raon himself. From the fact that Raon assumed that Cale would give DHB the last name of Miru like him, to the fact that Raon knew that DHB once tried to kill him, yet he was fine in sharing the same last name with DHB.

I guess Raon was feeling conflicted like his mom regarding DHB. Meanwhile, Kesilia was puzzled about this young dragon willing to share the same last name to a mixed blood dragon who once tried to kill him. It must be unimaginable for her who was treated badly by the Aipotu dragons on the Dragon Lord's side. 😢

Crazy Clopeh Clopeh claimed that it was Rasheel who destroyed one of the temple's buildings, but Cale was having doubts about that, given the expression of the pope towards Clopeh. 😂

We never got to know what exactly the destructive trio did at the temple, but it was pretty much confirmed that Clopeh talked about Cale so much like a legendary hero. And Hannah said that Cale was a kind guy. So it was no wonder that 3rd Bishop Horns and the unnamed 1st Bishop treated Cale in awe. Or Pope Kesilia being friendly and cooperative with him.

Of course, Cale wondered how Clopeh introduced him to them because of their reactions. 😂 And also felt dizzy just thinking about it. 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks Today's chapter was so good with its funny and heartwarming moments. 🥰 Next chapter would be Cale beginning his dragon lair looting plans, or probably more planning stuff. But the name tease of DHB has got me excited. I guess his last name will be Miru too because Cale did not object to Raon's words. So the only mystery now is his first name. Raon Miru. Dodam Miru. It seems like the Miru family is gaining a new member~!

[mikeysbabygirl]

                 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒑𝒂

Warning : explicit smut, age gap, sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamic, pet names, gun play in Yakuza Mikey's part, dom!reader in some parts, the boys doing so well for you...

Summary : there's a new app to find a sugar daddy, how about they find your profile?

Featuring: Ran Haitani, Wakasa Imaushi, Kokonoi Hajime, Sano Manjiro, Kakucho Hitto.

Let's get started, shall we ?

𝑹𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒊 : (Bonten TL)

Ran was the first one to get the app, surprising, isn't it ?

He'd tried many of their sugar babies before, and he was quite satisfied with them. Well, they might be a little clingy when everything's over, but ladies tend to be that way with him.

And one day, your profile picture just popped. It has just been created, you were new, and young, student loans probably. Somehow, there was just something... endearing, about your innocent smiling face, a shot taken by your iphone camera rather than hiring a photographer to flatter all your angles, like everyone else.

-" Um, Hi ! " He couldn't help but curl a smile, the contrast between your virtuous face, and the devilish dress you were wearing had him already deep into it. " I'm here for the... sex? No- that's not what I mean ! " He raised his eyebrows seeing the heat rising to your face, so that dirty world didn't drained you of your colors yet ?

-"I'm here to offer... You know what ? I'm your sugar baby. "

Yes, there was just you, your doe-like eyes and your clumsiness, and suddenly, he was trapped in a pink haze, drowning in a gaze.

-" This way, just this way. Go 'head, you doing... Damn great, princess. " He praised, grip tightening around your hair whilst you bobbed your head up and down. That knot in his stomach, already tight, exploded when he shifted his eyes toward your flustered face.

-" Fucking look at you, taking daddy's cock like the best slut I've had. " He was a goner as soon as your teary, big eyes fluttered those wet eyelashes to look at him, and suddenly, he came with no warning, too quickly for the first time in ages, in bliss watching his white seeds leaking from your glossy lips.

What a pretty flower, so obedient, always ready to drop whatever plan you had for a call from him.

What a venomous snake hidden in.

Yes Ran liked to hold his pretty little thing in front of everyone, make his prey sit still and pretty on his lap.

-" Show 'em, baby. " His fingers digged deeper in your waist above him, surely talking about Rindou and Haru, sitting, wide-eyed, lusting in the booth across from yours. " Show 'em why I can't get ya outta my head. " His eyes were deep engrossed in the way your small hole sucked him in, head thrown back, Ran drove a cloud, letting go of the wheel for the first time and letting you take the lead.

But you couldn't care less, if he showed you off like a trophy in the night, you let him think he pulls the strings. Because in the morning, you wrap those around his neck, and he'd wake up suffocating in an empty cold bed.

-" no strings attached, your words. Daddy. " you tease from under his bigger body. His eyes fall on your naked chest, golden necklace of his name he bought for you. He knew you only wore it around him, but Ran liked the pain, the denial.

And for once, Ran lost the race. He didn't left the first, so he came second.

-" Such a whore..." His thrusts were relentless, and you think it's the third time you might cum, with him having you in a matting press. " Three different men, how come this pussy's even this fucking tight?"

And he heard you, under your moans, uttering something like " you never said I couldn't have another". And watched his smirk getting scarier, towering above you, his hand wrapped around your neck.

-" Aw, didn't I ? What a shame. " He cooed, lust and jealousy equally running in his blood. His pussy, his baby, how come would you even let some other loser taste that ?

- " Then watch me show you who owns this body. Let's see who'll dare touching Ran Haitani's bitch, 'kay baby ? "

𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒐 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒓𝒐 (Yakuza tl) :

C'mon, it's Mikey we're talking about. He's not particularly fond of sex anyway. He is the man without a shadow, no one knows for sure is he an actual person, or just another name behind a smoking gun.

It's his Yakuza era, Mikey pulls the strings of his mafia behind super boarded up doors, only Kisaki knows the keys of.

So when Kisaki stumbles on your profile on a random day, he thinks he got the perfect gift to unwind his terrorizing boss.

You felt like a little knight in front of a thorned kingdom, standing in front of the sitting Yakuza boss, in your white lingerie. His dark hues bored into your body absentmindedly, another pretty face, another empty face.

Then the cute little knight is grazing her fingers over the thorns, and you're kissing him with your hands cupping his cheeks as passionately as if you've known him since years. And he thinks you taste sweet, and now he's really into it, hands around your waist.

And now you're ready to sink his intimidating length inside you, he doesn't even know why, but he lets you take his hands in yours, intertwine your fingers together as he fills you up, and his head's empty.

Just your small hands in his big ones, just the bulge in your tummy from him, your head in his neck and your tears he could feel.

Dizzying, indeed.

He watched you, that night, sleeping with your arms around him. Why were you so touchy? Didn't they warned you, outside that room, to leave as soon as you're done ? But most importantly, why was he allowing this ? Why were you even breathing again, your hair tickling his chest ?

And when the morning came, he watched you getting ready to leave, just like anyone else.

And there he was, frozen by the kitchen, staring as you fought with the pancakes you were trying so desperately to not burn.

-" Sit down, it's almost ready. "

Just who did you think you are, giving orders ? And as if you felt the need to ask something, you flashed a glow dripping smile over your shoulder, and just for a second, he sees mornings,confort, Emma, breakfasts, family, home.

Not bad, he thinks, munching on the pastry. But Mikey's a man of few words, and he gets slightly frustrated by your expectant shiny eyes on him. Intimidating, he doesn't even dare to think it through, but you're the slightest bit overwhelming, intimidating.

-" Overcooked. " He throws the word as a stone at you, expecting you to bleed but not to laugh, moving to sit on his lap. For a second he's at a loss of words, while you lean to lick the cream on the corner of his lips.

-" Well I'm not paid to cook, but to fuck " you shrug, Mikey thinks... He doesn't even think anymore. Ethereal, the noiselessness in his mess of a mind is deafening, so much that he can't overcome it.

Well, Kisaki isn't that surprised, few days after when his boss asks to see you again, considering how good your ratings were. What's surprising is that, he actually asks for you, by your own name.

-" Daddy, wanna cum " you're out of breath, sprayed for him on the bed, with the strong body of that Yakuza boss above you.

-" Then fucking do it. " Another roll of his tongue around your clit had your thighs shaking, he honestly doesn't know since when he turned into a giver, probably at the threshold of your holy entrance.

-" Lemme taste how sweet your lil pussy can be f'me ".

Things constantly change, time flies, but if there's a constant, it's your smile whenever you see him, it's the warmth of you above him in your sleep, it's the spark of worry he spots in your gaze everytime he's out for his shady activities. Not fear from him, but for him.

He swears it's not obsession, only tiptoeing on its edges, maybe. The way you digged yourself a small grave in his dead wastelands.

-" Manjiro..." Your eyes are filled with tears, his wicked demons like that. Pinning you to the wall, his tip kissing your cervix since so long, and it's not moving, just like the gun he's pressing right above your heart.

-" Did i ever gave you the permission to do that, love ?" He likes the way he could feel your pulse going insane under his lips grazing your neck. " Hm ? Did I said you could have other customers?"

Your eyes peer at the phone on the nightstand, you swear you just forgot to delete your subscription to that damn app, again and again. And now you're shaking under him, his gun pressed harder against your chest, his kisses even more passionate, the roll of his hips dizzying.

-" I'm gonna delete it... Now, I promise, 'Jiro, promise " you cry, clinging on his neck. " Just move, please, please, make me cum ".

And it's over devilish, the way the corner of his lips raise darkly, he shrugs.

-" If that's what my bitch wants... would never force you anyway".

He lies, dropping the gun as if it never existed.

𝑲𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒐 𝑯𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒐 : (Bonten TL)

Kakucho liked Ran. Ran was like an older brother for him, and he knew how much that one respected him.

Maybe the only thing he could ever blame him for, was how extra he was.

Antics like, offering him a subscription for a " sugar baby " app for his birthday.

Ran was standing next to the pretty girl, younger than both of them, obviously. And Kakucho thought about refusing his friend's offer, although the girl was undeniably beautiful, he was nowhere near into those kinks.

-" Just let go man " Ran suddenly tapped his back, making him startle. " Go 'head, princess " he as well pushed you against Kakucho's torso. " Get ma man's dick wet ".

See ?extra...

But if Kakucho could say anything, he would probably talk about how cute you were, with that heat rising to your cheeks.

After the awkward uncle Sam ( aka Ran) left both of you alone, you've been finally able to find back your words. Kakucho seemed dry on his edges, but he actually just needed some few laughter from you to relax, taking part in the conversation.

At some point, it was always about inches. Just one more, just a little more. Between your two faces, your hands brushing against each other, pair of eyes locking, time stops, blurs, and suddenly you're in his lap, sharing breath.

-" Just lemme do it" you whispered against his cheeks, he found it funny, your smaller hands trying to pin his bigger ones above his head.

And you kissed, oh god you kissed, as if you had loved him a thousand lifetimes ago. Kakucho's breath hitched like a teenager, as you kissed every inch of his face, every scar, and your mouth fell around his pectorals.

-" Shit, keep rubbing on my cock, angel " he grunt from under you, trying desperately just not to pin you down on the bed and fuck you relentlessly.

Sun rises, nights turned into lazy mornings, and those ones left place to movie nights, to breakfasts and cuddles, he liked for your laughter to fill his big for nothing house.

Now, Kakucho knows it's probably just a role you're playing, for the pretty dresses he'd leave for you on his bed, for the dinners in fancy restaurants, and for your loans that left by the window as soon as he stepped in your life.

But he also knew your whispered "pretty boy" while kissing every flaw of him, he knew the erratic heart beats of yours when his head would lay on your chest.

And everytime he promises he's not falling.

Tearing his eyes away from your ravishing sight, twisting in your bedsheets, standing next to you with a hand in your hair. He swears it's the last time. It's all about money, all about sex.

But the sun sets, and in his living room, you'd be glowing incandescent. A heart robbing smile.

-" missed you daddy " you'd greet, standing up, eyes making love to him before your lips even could.

He's not gonna fall, " it would be fucked up to fall", he tells himself.

Then you're grabbing his calloused hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together, and he finds himself staring at both your hands, fire rising in his guts as you drag him toward the bedroom. You fail to hear him mutter.

-"... I'm fucked up... "

𝑲𝒐𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒊 𝑯𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒆 : ( Bonten TL)

At some point, Kokonoi think he hadn't known anything else than those sugar daddy/sugar baby relationships.

He considered his time too precious to lose on building a strong, healthy relationship. Those things take time, and that he had not.

Now sure he would sometimes think about something... More true, something not hanging on his black card. But years pass by,paperwork piles up on his desk, and finding true love is just... Something for another day.

Kokonoi watches with amusement your eyes widening, he thinks it is somehow cute that your face was so easy to read. The room was bigger than any place you have ever been, the ladies and gentlemen wore dresses and suits you've only seen in the most marvellous fairytales.

And he thinks, by the way, you should not even be amazed by that, considering how the dress he brought you makes you look, considering what you make his body feel.

Somehow, everyone either smiled or bowed at you, some kind of respect you never thought would be directed toward you. Important figures and influencing men and women surrounded you from everywhere, the ballroom giving the impression of a whole royalty around you restricted your breath.

-" I don't think... I don't belong here " your eyes found his in a panicked expression, your new customer tightened his arm around your waist, leaning slightly toward you to brush his lips against your ear.

-" it's part of the deal, princess. You need some money, and i need something pretty on my arm for the night " he flashes a grin that, along with his words, makes your eye color deepen. Something pretty to show off... His words manage to drown your previous anxiety under a raging fire.

Right, if that's what he wants.

And he must admit, you behaved pretty well that night. Politely greeting everyone coming toward you two, throwing stunning smiles and laughing at unfunny jokes. For a first time, he was proud you did it like a boss.

Just as he was thinking you were taking too long in the restroom, his phone rang with the sound of a text he just received. He excused himself toward some business partners and as soon as he opened the said text, his hand froze on the phone.

His eyes silently stared at your right arm, holding your naked tits while the left one held the phone. The way the nude was taken was almost artistic, he almost wouldn't have recognized the backseat of his Aston Martin. Damn, he didn't even felt your hand in his pocket stealing his keys.

As much as he tried to ignore that blaze taking place in his lower abs, he could not ignore the next texts coming again and again. Your thighs, your lips, then your pussy spread on his backseat, as if the glistening was calling for him.

- " Just... Fuck, keep doing this, need this. Need this so fucking much... "

He was a moaning mess on the driver's seat, silver strands falling around his handsome, thrown back face whilst his hand was buried deep in your hair.

Your eyes never left his once, as you were taking his length even deeper. And honestly he wondered how you still didn't choked around him, but everytime your tongue rolls over his tip, purposely hollowing your cheeks, this man loses a new spark of sanity.

With a loud pop, you let go of his shaft and he was about to complain, yet his eyes fell on your pretty face, glossy wet lips and teary doe eyes, he's left speechless for the first time.

-" What a shame, the classy, sassy Kokonoi Hajime, doing such a thing in his car... "

Honey coated voice dripping poisoned proses, he was mesmerized by the fierce look on your eyes, and soon breathed a heavy grunt when you took his dick in your smaller hands.

-" what would these aristocrats say if they saw you... Hm ? " You asked, making him buckle his hips in your hands when your thumb ran over his tip.

-" Stop the tease or I fucking swear-"

-" If they saw your pretty thing sucking you like a damn cock slut ?"

Pathetic, it felt so bad to feel so good.

-" love, for fuck's sake... "

Your dirty sinful words wrapped in a kiss on his tip almost brought him to his peak. Koko knows you're enjoying it, having the big, infamous Hajime Kokonoi panting between your hands, so messy, almost pathetic... A whining man.

-" Go ahead, tell me what you need. Daddy, tell your good girl what you want her to do with your pretty cock "

On your knees for him, you rest your chin on his naked thigh, giving a loving stare that he sincerely hopes won't be engraved in the thin walls of his mind for a whole lifetime.

And as Koko watches you, the beautiful stranger that got a man as important as him playing Russian roulette with his reputation, risking getting caught in such a position anytime-

He thinks he might need to call you back.

His hand tightens around your hair, bringing your mouth closer to his tip.

-" Then show daddy how fucking good you can really take dick".

He thinks the other day might have finally came.

𝑾𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒂 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊 : (OG timeline)

Why would he even need such an app ? He has ladies, come on-

-" Don't go crying o'mme now, you were begging for my dick, better take it like a bitch".

Or maybe he does ?

His sharp edges might appear mysterious, appealing, yet the girls he "dated " always seemed to somehow end up offended by his rough, careless manners.

And he truly thinks Takeomi's idea is pathetic, why would he need such an app ? And dating younger girls, in addition, he knows he's so gonna wreck them...

-" Hi, are you Wakasa-kun ?"

Leaning on the doorframe, he throws away his cigarette, judgmental stare on you. You do fail to notice the interest sparkling there.

Frail, cheerful, goody-goody look, it's gonna be funny watching that one run away scared, he thinks.

-" am I scaring you, angel ?" His deep voice asks, followed by the sound of the ties he wrapped around your wrists all to the bedframe. Something in his chest lights up at the sight of your little smile while you shake your head from left to right. Wakasa realizes there, he truly wants you, your hesitant moves but constant eyes, your trembling lips and confident smile, your hell of a curves and angelic face, standing on the threshold of hell, ready to dance with the devil.

Swimming in an ocean of lust, drowning almost, though he was the one riding, Wakasa threw his head back, breathless.

-" Fuck, now you clenchin' so damn tight on me... Think i'm obsessed with this pussy. You good baby ? You with me ?"

He could think the rough pace his hips set up would've sent you to overdrive, he could think the ties leaving red marks on your wrists, or the bruising grip of his hands around your waist would've scared you away, but-

-" 'm so close... Don't you stop, daddy, give it to me, I... I need it !"

His pupils in the dark dilated, biting his lip, Waka' grabbed your hair to pull your face up, closer to his, roughly claiming your lips until he needs to inhale.

-" You sure 'bout that, princess ? Want me to go all in ? To dick you dumb on my cock ? " He teases, rolling his hips to give you some friction. He didn't miss how tightly you pull on your ties, desperately chasing more, leaking on him, a low chuckle leaves his pretty lips. " So messy... Such a good slut, where have you been all this fuckin' time ?"

Now that he knows someone down there would take him raw, that someone wants his unhinged side, he truly goes all in.

Wakasa gives you his deepest thrusts, his meanest words, most passionate kisses, and have you squirming and tightening around his length until you're coming undone with him, both collapsing on each other, panting, absent mindedly staring at each other's soul.

You don't know what's next, and he doesn't remember the last time he did it, yet after undoing your ties, his calloused fingers fly to your sweaty forehead, brushing your hair locks away from your eyes.

-" lemme keep looking at this pretty face" he whispers against your lips, pressing his body to yours and sighing.

Yes, Wakasa Imaushi is what you could call a freak. But once the monster finds someone to share his nights with, he also shares his morning glory...

You gasp, feeling yourself being lifted from the bed into his strong toned arms. Wakasa holds you in, princess-like while taking the bathroom's direction, you stare at him, questioning.

-" What's in it for you ?" You tilted your head to the side questioningly after he gently-almost too gently for Wakasa Imaushi- placed your body in the bathtub and started running some warm water for you.

-" Hm ?" He feigns ignorance, eyes focused on something else.

-" I mean, I'm payed for this. You paid me, you don't have to do any of this, customers usually don't-"

And suddenly, you can't talk anymore, your face being cupped in his big hand, you look at him surprised, big eyes into his as he's smirking, leaning toward you.

-" Shhh, I know, i know, princess. " His finger gently rubs your lower lip, lavender gaze trailing on them before coming back to your eyes, a serious expression on his face. " But you did so good to me, lemme make it right, yeah ? Daddy's gonna heal your bruises ".

That night, and another, and a thousand other butterflies in your tummy, you discover, and Wakasa too, that a freak, a mean dom, such an unhinged monster can with the kiss of his princess turn into a king, an aftercare king.

[torialefay]

❤️‍🔥 Mercury in Libra 🪫

bangchan as your boyfriend series!!! (pt 5)

(based on astrology) 🔞

✨bangchan x reader (f); angsty sad times, little fluff if you try

✨word count: ~3.1k

✨5th and final part in chan’s astrology series!!! together, let’s take a look into chan’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be!

✨i will give a brief synopsis of what each chart placement means throughout the series (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect channie in a relationship

✨ author’s notes:

(1) i do brief compatibility readings w/ skz members! if interested, send your natal chart to my inbox, as well as which member you’d like me to read for OR if i think there is one member best suited to you <3

(2) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)

✨warnings: sad plot, theme of unfaithfulness, occasional cursing

✨tl/dr: chan is a loverboy who gets caught up in flirting when he doesn’t even know he’s flirting. then he ends up a blubbering mess.

Mercury in Libra:

-Mercury is the planetary ruler of communication and intellect. It shows how you connect with others throughout everyday life, just in speaking with them. It can also tell you a lot about how you relate to others and interpret the information they give you.

-Libra is a cardinal sign, meaning that people who are in this placement REALLY live by the aspects associated with that placement- in other words, chan is likely to hold very true to these values.

-Libra is the sign of love, beauty, charm, and balance. Libra in Mercury has a few key traits when it comes to communication. They are natural charmers and can instantly make people like them simply by talking with them. Libras are very good at placating to what others want, so they can speak to you in a way that they tell you what you want to hear. Libras also love beauty, so they many times will have an elegant way of speaking or cute quirks and mannerisms. Lastly, Libras value harmony and balance, so most likely their communication style will either (1) mimic yours, or (2) counter yours to be able to reach a happy medium.

-Long story short: Mercury in Libra people are sweet talkers who can charm anyone they meet, make them feel special, and meet them at the communication level that they are in. HOWEVER, the downside to Libra in Mercury is that they do not like confrontation- so they are likely going to avoid any conversations that could disrupt the peace between them and that person.

As your boyfriend:

• Chan always supports you exactly how you need him to.

◦ Had a bad day? He understands, come lay on him and talk about it.

◦ Upset over a test score? Scores are stupid, he’s gonna buy you ice cream and let you rant about how ridiculous it was.

◦ Got into a yelling match with a close friend? Hold his hands and talk him through it. He wants to know how he can help.

• He adapts to what you need in that moment- if you need someone to listen, he will sit there with an open ear. If you need advice on what to do, he will analyze every option and patiently walk you through what he thinks is best.

• If you get really frustrated or angry over something, he will 100% come up behind you and bear hug you, shaking you around until you give in and put a smile on your face.

• “Come here and talk to me,” he says, pulling you down to sit on his lap.

• He loves talking about deep things with you, like the meaning of life. It makes him feel so lucky to have such a smart significant other.

• He stares at you in awe as you talk about things you’re passionate about. Even if he genuinely doesn’t care about the topic, he holds on to every word, thinking of how cute you are in this moment.

• He remembers every little story you tell him about your childhood. When you bring up a long-gone aunt, uncle, grandparent, etc., he says “Oh, the one you told me about who ___?” You always smile at how he remembers these little things.

• Chan knows that you’re mad. He ALWAYS knows.

• He can tell in the way that you don’t instinctively turn your knees towards him in the car and when you don’t automatically reach for his hand when you walk next to him.

• He may not know why you’re mad, but he does know that you are.

• What he has a really hard time with is addressing it.

• He’s been trying for days to make up for it- whatever it is.

• Every day, he starts with “Good morning beautiful.” And every night, he finishes with “Good night princess.” Making sure you didn’t feel unloved.

• He’s been doing extra housework- cooking, cleaning, finishing up odd jobs you’d asked about a month ago. Could that be it?

• He’s been putting his foot down at work, leaving every night 5 PM to make sure he gets to spend the evenings with you. Maybe that’s what this is about- maybe you just missed spending time with him.

• Chan doesn’t know what’s wrong, and nothing he’s done so far has changed anything.

• He was hoping that his efforts would change your attitude toward him, or even make you forget about it, but he just couldn’t understand why you weren’t letting up. Why you weren’t letting him in as closely as you once had. Why things were so good, but now they are so different.

• All he knows now is that he is hopelessly in love with you, but it seems like you don’t feel the same anymore.

• You both sat together on the couch for a while. You thought Chan wouldn’t notice as you slowly inched yourself away from him, more slowly as the minutes passed.

• But he knew. He tried to reason that something was wrong. He didn’t want to push for an answer yet for fear of learning one that he wished he wouldn’t have.

• You continued to scroll on your phone, mind-numbingly on the ‘X’ app. This was a habitual routine, but one you decided you needed to break.

• There were a lot of great posts on there, but there was a lotttt about your boyfriend on there as well. One more unwanted post you knew would send you into a spiral.

• But you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know.

• You scrolled through the hashtag on the app. “#bangchan” splayed across the search bar.

• Cute photos and gifs. Adorable collages. Sexy TikTok edits. The usual. It took you probably 10 minutes of scrolling before you found something that got you ticked off again.

• ‘Every goddamn time,’ you thought, as your scoffed and rolled your eyes. You stared down at the video playing on the phone, as if this was the first one you’d ever seen.

• The caption of the video:

“how cute is #bangchan looking flirting with #fem/idol 😭🥰”.

• You focused on the interaction on the screen. There was Chan at the award show last night, leaning in and whispering something into fem/idol’s ear. When he pulled back, he looked down at her with a big smile, and you could see her reciprocate by blushing intensely and batting her eyelashes back up at him. You watched as he continued to talk for a few moments, laughing and offering up big hand gestures before saying goodbye, making sure to fully catch her eyes and bow as he went.

• You quickly scrolled underneath to the comment section, hoping that someone would say something- anything- to make you feel better.

◦ “God I wish he would look at me that way 🤭”

◦ “omfg she’s so pretty id def have chan’s reaction too”

◦ “Crying 😭😭 When do you think they’ll announce that they’re together? ❤️”

• You swiped out of the app entirely, shutting your phone off afterwards and placing it in your lap. You continued to stare down at the black screen until you felt tears start to well up in your eyes.

• You quickly tried to blink them away, but you couldn’t help it. This was the third time THIS week that you’d seen him do shit like this. Smiling, blushing, and heavily complimenting one girl, helping another fix her shoe, and now this. Before, you could reason it away- chuck it up to him just being a “nice guy.” But you couldn’t keep doing that forever.

• You always saw the comments people left under the videos about how cute they would be together and how Chan would be the perfect boyfriend.

• ‘But little do they know,’ you thought as you sighed.

• You turned your legs along with your body fully toward the other side of the couch, opposite of where Chan was. You looked a bit ridiculous facing the other way, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to see his face. You couldn’t stand to.

• You let your mind wonder, repeating the video in your head. The way he looked at her and the way she looked back.

• ‘Am I stupid?… Have I been stupid this whole time?…’

• You thought back to when you first decided to make things official with him, and how you both agreed that it would be easier to not publicize the relationship. You didn’t want anyone coming in the way of what you have together.

• ‘Was that my first mistake? So he can date me in secret and go out and flirt with any other idol he wants?’

• Your mind drifted to each other interaction you’d seen with him. You had make excuses time and time before. But it hurt to see him like this. Your OWN boyfriend talking to another girl the way that he SHOULD be seen talking to you.

• You couldn’t help yourself as one tear escaped. Then two, then three. Before you knew it, there was a release of waterworks all down your face. Your mind got the best of you as you started sobbing into your hands, burying your face into the side of the couch. There was nothing you could do to stop yourself.

• “Baby?” Chan called. His response was met only with more tears.

• “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting his whole body next to yours to hold your back.

• “Get off of me!” you lashed out. He looked confused for a moment, but released his grip from you.

• “Honey, please talk to me. What’s wrong?” he asked, genuine sadness on his face.

• Hearing him call you pet names, all while pulling shit like he just had, completely set you off. “Don’t call me that.” You straightened back up in your seat, slightly turning toward him, not daring to look him in the face.

• “Don’t call you what?”

• “Honey, baby, whatever. You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

• “Y/n, what is going on? Seriously?” He placed his face in front of yours and used his hands to move your shoulders around to face him. This is the first time he could see how red and puffy your face had become. He felt like a piece of him had broken off just looking at you.

• “What’s going on?” you cried. “I don’t know Chris, why don’t you tell me what’s going on.” You quickly unlocked your phone, the video still open on it. You dropped the phone down to him as you stood, then taking a couple of steps to get some distance.

• He watched the video, moving his head around as if he was studying it. He replayed it a couple of times, then turned it intently, like he was looking for a hidden message. But he could find none. He furrowed his brow, then looked back up at you with a stare of confusion.

• You scoffed. “Okay. So you see nothing wrong with that?”

• “With what? Talking to another girl?!”

• “FLIRTING with another girl, Christopher! Flirting!… I’m not stupid! This is the THIRD video I’ve seen like this in a week. Do you know how humiliating it feels to have to see you, who was supposed to be the love of my life, out here flirting with all these other idols THROUGH SOCIAL MEDIA.. AND THEN having people comment on top of it about how you two would be ‘just the cutest couple ever’! Do you have any idea how that feels?!”

• You saw him get a tinge of sadness in his eyes, but you cut him off before he could speak.

• “No, you know what? I KNOW you don’t know how this feels. Because I would NEVER think to look at another man the way that I look at you.. So you know what!? If you’re that interested in other girls, you can go for it! By alllll means, don’t let me stop you!” You could feel steam coming off of yourself.

• You didn’t even want to hear what he had to say, you just wanted to get out of there. He could have his idol life. Do whatever the fuck he wanted. He had you fooled for a while, but now you saw him for who he was. A liar. Wants his cake and eats it too. But not with you anymore.

• You turned on your heels to leave, thinking you’d go ahead and pack an overnight bag to head out. As you took your first step, you felt a grasp and a tug on your wrist in the opposite direction.

• You stumbled back, feeling him cling to your hand, then pull the top of your body slightly as he stood himself up. By the time he settled, he had you back facing right in front of him with your one hand in his.

• “Y/n, please don’t say that. Please, just listen to me,” he begged, eyes bigger than you’d ever seen them.

• “Listen to what? Listen to you explain how it’s okay to flirt while you’re in a relationship?”

• “That wasn’t flirting!”

• “Oh really, then what do you call that?!”

• “I was just being nice! I thought-” his voice cracked, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “I thought I was-“ he hung his head to the side. “I thought I was being nice!” He looked so defeated.

• And just like that, he started sobbing. Tears were streaming down his face like you’d never seen before. So powerful, they left visible marks even on his black shirt. He kept trying to get words out through his cries.

• ”Baby, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” he cried. “I didn’t know it would come across like that… I would NEVER,” he genuinely could not contain himself as he strained to get the words out. “I would NEVER do that to you! I could never think of someone else like that.”

• Teardrops kept trickling down as he reached to grab your other hand into his. “I love you- only you! I could never flirt with someone else! But the fact that I made you feel like that- that that’s what it looked like to you…” he couldn’t even see anymore with the water flowing out of himself. “I am just so sorry… Y/n I’m so sorry! Please, please believe me.” He was getting choked now. His face was red like he was about to pass out from lack of air.

• You stood still, not knowing yet what to believe or what to say.

• “Baby please! Please,” he took your face in his hands, feeling of the few stray tears on your own face. “Please. I love you. Please don’t shut me out. I thought I was just being nice and I- I-… I’ve..” he huffed, struggling to get out what he wanted to say. “I’ve done the last thing I ever wanted to do. I would never intentionally hurt you, do you understand me?!” He tried his best to look into your eyes. All you could see were tears weeping out, redness shooting in all directions, and a look of absolute brokenness. “I promise I never meant to come across that way. I thought I was just being nice to her, that is ALL. YOU are the only person I care about. No one else means anything to me. Without you, I am NOTHING. Please baby, please listen to me. Please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything to make this right.”

• He continued to wail as he brought his arms around your body, resting his head on the side of yours. His tears began to soak down into your hair. There was still nothing you could say. I mean, what could you say? Your boyfriend was notorious for being a charming guy… But knowing that didn’t make this situation any easier.

• “Please baby,” he rubbed your head as he plead. “Please just tell me how to fix it and I will. I don’t want you to ever feel that way again.” You felt the water from his eyes now drench your hair entirely. “I PROMISE if you show me what I’m doing wrong, I will never do it again. I promise I will be perfect for you. Just tell me how. I will do ANYTHING! I am BEGGING, y/n!”

• He stood there, holding you as tightly as he could while cradling your head and trying to quieten his sobs. He waited for you to give him some sort of response. Good, bad, ANYTHING was better than nothing. He felt his heart physically break inside his chest when you remained silent, not even motioning to begin getting a word out.

• He slowly pulled his face away from your hair, coming up to face directly into you one last time. His whole face was swollen, pink cheeks now extended into a pink nose and pink ears, streaks of both new and old teardrops going in every direction.

• “Y/n please,” he begged. “Just tell me something… Anything.” He felt like the floor could drop from under him any moment. A gnawing pit formed in his stomach that he felt was going to jump out of his throat while waiting to hear you.

• You stood still for another moment, moving your eyes down and contemplating what you could even say at this point. Your emotions were so mixed.

• “I love you so much. Please know that,” tears still in his eyes, he leaned down to kiss you. It was wet and you could feel the desperation in the intensity he moved his lips over yours. You leaned into it the slightest bit, giving him most minute sense of hope. He clung onto the kiss with everything he could, throwing his lips further into yours before you felt the tears start to slowly separate you again. He pulled his lips off of yours with violent hesitancy.

• He whispered now, as if he didn’t want anyone else in the world to hear him. “Please teach me what you want. Say the word, and I will do it...” small tears now were the only ones coming out. “I would give up everything for you, y/n. Money, fame, anything. Please just teach me what you want…. Please-” he cried, “please don’t leave me.”

• wellll, I’ll let you decide what your fate is with chan 🤭 to forgive or not to forgive?

• ohhh the world of a mercury in libra

——————————————————————————————

If you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3

[emelinstriker]

Knockout ♤ Your New Car

Y'all be gettin a gif for him cuz I couldn't find a good jpg. Also I hate how rushed my old TFP one-shots feel omg-

[TL;DR] Knockout decides to personally take up the job of driving you after an encounter with some bullies.

♤ ~ Comfort ~ ♤

Knockout was driving towards your school, just like any other day. His alt mode's radio was playing one of your favorite songs as he hummed to the tune. He wasn't thinking about much, other than having some fun time hanging out with you later. His day was also pretty good, considering he didn't have to deal with Megatron's orders or even Starscream's nagging. He was pretty happy and content as he sped down the road, seeing the school building from afar.

However, that happiness was short lived once he noticed you talking to some other humans. They were laughing while you seemed like you were about to cry. As he got closer, he was finally able to hear what was being said.

"...And your car is an absolute waste, honestly. I mean, where did you grab it from? The scrapyard?" The boy laughed again, making his goons laugh.

Furious, the mech decided to step in. Knockout slowly drove up next to where you parked your car. You looked up at the sound of an approaching car. Recognizing your lover's alt mode, you were a little bit more relieved with him now here. The bullies stopped laughing as a rather handsome man got out of the driver's seat.

"Sorry for the wait, doll. Driving your car was just too much fun. It's so fast and you did such a great job buffing it!" He complimented you with a smirk... It was mainly just his ego taking over as he described how great his actual looks were, but you didn't mind. You usually buffed him in his alt mode after all, so at least you could take part of the credit.

He walked over to you. "Thanks for letting me use it. And thanks for taking care of my own." The mech in disguise turned towards your car, the one the bullies were making fun of. Honestly, your car wasn't all too shabby. Maybe buff it here and there, but it looked decent enough. But it clearly wasn't made for speed, unlike his alt mode. The group of bullies was silent. They couldn't believe you owned an Aston Martin. They thought you were the owner of the cheaper-looking car!

"May I still use it till we get home? I just enjoy the thrill." You looked at your bullies, then back at your Decepticon guardian with a small smile. Once you nodded, Knockout leaned in to kiss your forehead, not bothering to go lower in front of those other filthy humans. They don't deserve to see the amount of affection he usually gave you.

Knockout finally looked at your bullies in the eye, faking a confused look, pretending he didn't know why they were picking on you, before nudging you to get into your car. "I'll meet you later, okay, doll? Now get going- I still need to show you something at home." He said before he smugly walked back to his alt mode, entering and closing the door before ultimately letting his holoform disappear behind the tainted windows. He slowly drove in reverse, making sure to see you get into your own vehicle safely and driving out onto the street as he left. He drove ahead of you, but didn't speed to show off like he would usually do, instead he drove at around your own pace.

Once you drove through the groundbridge, Knockout transformed and simply walked next to your car as you went to your little parking area. You rolled down your window to listen to whatever he wanted to rant about. "Who were those humans?! Why were they making fun of you and your possessions like that?!"

Suddenly, tears started to roll down your cheeks and you sniffed, trying to hide your eyes by looking down.

Knockout instantly felt bad and decided to drag you out of your car. So he kneeled down and used his talons to open the door, gently picking you up. No one on the war ship would bother touching your car anyway, so it didn't matter if the door was left open. There was nothing of value in it for any cybertronian.

He put you close enough to his faceplate so he could examine you closely. Just in case they physically harmed you in any way.

"Why are you crying, doll? Was it my outburst?" He asked with a softer tone. You shook your head.

"They always make fun of me- Always finding something to belittle me over..." You wiped away some tears. "A-And ever since I got my mom's old car, they've been harrassing me over it..." There was a moment of silence. Only your little sniffles could be heard. You were a little worried about your boyfriend's lack of response, so you looked up at him.

But then you felt his faceplate press up against your body. More specifically, you felt his dermas kissing your lips. Your face heated up as you kissed back, putting your tiny hands on his faceplate. Once he pulled back, his red optics looked into your red and puffy eyes. They were beautiful to him regardless. "Leave your car here. I'll be your personal vehicle from now on. Just tell me when and where to drive and I'll get you there", he stated. The medic wasn't joking either.

You had a bit of a perplexed look on your face as you considered the possible outcomes. "But I don't want to bother you! You're already doing so much for me! And what if Megatron refuses to let you drive me for more than just school?"

The mech huffed as he slowly put you down on his shoulder pad. "Then he would have to deal with more injured vehicons alone. If he refuses to let me drive you, then I refuse to fix up his soldiers. Simple as that. I'm already your guardian and sparkmate, so why can't I just be your personal ride too?"

You giggled a little at his stubborn attitude, making him smirk. Knockout started slowly making his way over to your home-corner. But before he could offer you to step on his servo to place you on the ground, you kissed the side of his helm. "Thanks, Knockout. You're such a sweetheart and I love you for it." You said, then you stepped onto his servo to be lowered into your corner. The mech gave you a loving smile.

"Love you too, doll."

[ Masterlist ]

[sydsaint]

*frantically drops this on the TL and runs away* The Pepsi man is fucking haunting me.

Summary: The reader has a jaded past with Punk and never thought she'd have to see him again. Until Survivor Series.

"Thanks for the assist, Y/N. Good looking out." Randy pats your arm gently with a friendly smile. 

"When it comes to Rhea? No problem at all, Randy." You nod as the rest of your Wargames team files out of the cage. 

You mingle with the team while laughing at the misfortune of Judgment Day still lingering in the cage. Then it happens. 

Cult of Personality blasts through the arena speakers and you choke on your laugh. Your eyes snap to the top of the ramp and you watch in disbelief as a figure walks through the curtain as the crowd screams at the top of their lungs. 

CM Punk. 

The arena becomes almost deafening as Punk runs around and enjoys his comeback with the crowd all cheering his name as loud as they can.

"You alright, N/N?" Jey sets a hand on your shoulder making you finally look away from the top of the ramp. 

"Fine. I'm fine." You nod. "Come on, let's head backstage. I'm sure that Hunter will want us for the media scrum in a bit." 

The group nods and everyone starts moving up the ramp toward the curtain. You wedge yourself between Sami and Jey and try to look as inconspicuous as possible. The group all pass Punk as he makes his way down the ramp and you do your absolute best to avoid his gaze. Because you know that if you do catch his eye then it's all over for you. 

Luck isn't on your side tonight, because as soon as you happen to glance to the side to smile at a fan holding a sign for you, Punk walks by. Your gaze meets a pair of enticing blue eyes and you curse under your breath. 'fuck' You whisper. 

"You sure that you're okay, Y/N?" Jey checks on you again once everyone is backstage. 

"I'm alright, Jey." You insist with another nod. "I'm just surprised is all. Just like everyone else is." You assure him. 

Jey nods and drops the subject for the moment. Everyone mingles around some more while waiting to see if anyone is needed for the media scrum. Jey and Cody get called to answer a few questions, and Seth wanders off to find Becky. This leaves you with Sami and Randy. 

"Hey, I just remembered something." Randy turns to you while you're talking to Sami. "Didn't you and Punk used to date before he left the company the first time?" He asks you. 

"We weren't dating!" You grind your teeth. 

Randy's eyebrows widen a bit at your outburst and he nods. "Right, sorry." He apologizes. "You knew him though, right? You were just starting out as a trainee if I remember right." 

"Yeah, I just got hired." You nod. "And now I'm a 5-time champion with absolutely no interest in CM Punk." You insist. though it's more to yourself than Randy and Sami. 

"No interest at all huh?" A familiar voice sounds behind you and you can already feel a headache coming on. "Well, I don't know about that, Y/N. Saying  you have zero interest in me is a little harsh, don't you think?" Punk comes sauntering through the curtain, still obviously high off the hype from his return. 

You lock eyes with Punk again but feel more confident in meeting his gaze this time. "Read my lips, hypocrite. Not interested." You answer him firmly. 

"Hypocrite?" Punk laughs and your stomach does a flip. "Sounds to me like you're overcompensating for something, sweetheart." He winks at you. 

"Oh you'd know all about overcompensating, wouldn't you?" You fire right back at him. 

Punk lets out another laugh and you know that you're starting to lose the battle. "Come on, sweetheart. We both know that just ain't true." He flashes a smug smile at you. 

"Alright!" Sami breaks up the dick-measuring contest with an awkward laugh. "Y/N, Randy and I are gonna head back to the locker room." He informs you. "You want to come with?" He offers you an easy way out of this whole situation. 

"Awe, leaving so soon, Y/N?" Punk flashes a fake frown. "But we were just getting to the fun part." 

Your mouth twitches and you turn to Sami. "I'll be there in a minute." You inform him. "I've got one final demon from my past that needs to be taken care of." You turn back to Punk with a scowl. 

"Oh, so I'm a demon now?" Punk teases you. 

"No." Yo, turn back to Punk. "You're a manipulator and a hypocrite." 

Another chuckle falls from Punk's lips as Randy and Sami walk off. "From what I remember, you didn't really mind being manipulated, sweetheart." He reminds you. 

"That was 10 years ago." You remind him right back. "I'm not some starstruck little girl fawning over the great CM Punk anymore. When you compare careers? You should be the one on your knees begging for my attention." You add. 

"You want me on my knees, sweetheart? All you have to do is ask." Punk taunts you. 

Your face heats up a smidge and you bite the inside of your cheek. Punk smiles as you wrack your brain for a comeback to his lewd remark. 

"Still speechless when it comes to me, huh, Y/N." Punk doesn't let up on his teasing. 

"Big talk coming from the main fired from two major companies for acting like an entitled brat." You fire back at him. 

"Oooo, ouch." Punk laughs your insult off. "And what have you been up to while I've been gone, Y/N?" He asks you. 

An opportunity presents itself and you don't hold back. "Main eventing Wrestlemania in front of hundreds of thousands of people." You remind him. "While you were doing what? Sitting on your couch with your dingy ass dog watching me be better than you? Or what? Getting into fights with kids that used to worship you like a hero?" You make a jab at his short-lived AEW career. 

Punk bows his head with a smile, acknowledging the burn. "Touche." He puts his hands up in defeat. "I'm staying at the same hotel as you tonight. Room 413." He steps towards you. "You talk a lot of game sugar, let's see if you can still back it up." He leans in and whispers in your ear before walking off with a self-satisfied smile. 

You remain in place as Punk walks off. "Fuck me." You groan when you think he's out of earshot finally. 

"Oh, I plan to, sweetheart!" Punk answers from across the room followed by a sinister laugh.