#now i feel guilty and rotten

[carrotpiss]

An attempt to get some thoughts feelings out of my system re the failed date

[ilokilok]

Working bad but no working also bad, brain is just scrambled eggs

[jwnstars]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

제이크 , false image.

>_< mai’s endless fluff saga

⊹ ࣪ ˖ popular!jake x quiet awkward! reader. ! 💻

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🗒️ when reader meets popular jock jake who seems mean and unreachable, turns out to be a fluffy, obsessed, baby girl boyfriend. !

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ✩ jake occasionally calls reader ‘glasses’ (because reader is a slight nerd. 🤓☝️)

JAKE WAS DEFINITELY THE POPULAR GUY. known by everyone in their school, “sim jaehyun” this! “jake” that! the whole school knew jake, he was a jock, an amazing athlete, a smart student.

but that all changed once jake met her.

a recap of their love story? happy to tell you.

she was in the library, studying for the maths test, jake was roaming around. finding some peace and quiet in the library, that was his escape. his escape to just feel a bit free and more calm. at that moment, she dropped her wallet trying to reach for her pen, not even noticing that it fell over the table that only she had occupied.

with jakes fast reactions, he quickly noticed the wallet silently thudding on the carpeted, calling towards him.

he thought the girl had heard it, but to his luck, it seemed as if she was wearing headphones that were on 100% volume. jake couldn’t just leave the library all guilty for not telling some stranger that their wallet tipped over and was left on the ground, right?

so, he made his way slowly to the busy girl. picking up the wallet that was a few inches away from her chair, not trying to disturb her. the wallet landed on her desk, as she suddenly looked up.

jake took a slight glance at the studying girl, she had a high pony tail and clear specs that made her features pop out. she had doe eyes that her glasses couldn’t even hide from others even if you were far away.

he gulped, realizing that it was the ‘nerd’ in the school. but to him, he know found out when you looked at her longer, she was beautiful. she wasn’t ugly, but she seemed gorgeous to his eyes at first sight.

“your.. uhm.. wallet fell. I wanted to help you cause you seemed like you didn’t hear it.” his hand landed on the back of his neck, specifically, his nape. but to the girls eyes, he was the popular jock that couldn’t be seen with a person like her.

however, his tone. his soft voice, it made the mean and arrogant remarks of the jock disappear. “thank you, jake.” she bowed practically 90° from her seat, still stunned that jake initiated a conversation with her.

“may I sit here?” jake asked to bring up a question, wanting to have a small (a long conversation that could last for hours at a time) chat with the awkward student.

“oh um sure!”

(border >_<)

jake and the girl bickered and talked for a longer time period that they both wouldn’t had expected. they found out how similar they were despite their differences, leaving the girl who had been looked as the nerd, the girl who was an outcast.

and from that moment on, jake knew that the girl he had met was the one who had to be his.

“baby no! I have to go!” the girl whined, the clingy and pouty jake who didn’t want to let go of her waist that fit perfectly with his veiny hands. he tugged onto the front of her shirt, trying to lower the crop top.

“you can’t leave your boyfriend hanging all alone, glasses, and why should I let you leave in that short ass crop top? when I’m NOT even there.” jake frowned, but she was fed up. or she would be late.

“seriously jake! I need to leave right now.”

“no, glasses, your mine”

it drove crazy at how much jake knew her weaknesses, his cute tone, his eyes, his ability to make her feel butterflies in her stomach. It made her weak.

“glasses, stay, stay with your boyfriend. It would be better than any other shit you have to do, because your boyfriend can spoil you rotten.” jake kissed her on the cheek, still desperate for her to stay.

“no.”

jake soon grabbed her legs and put her over his shoulder, walking away from the door and back inside. “boy! jake! put me down right now!”

“don’t want to.” jake chuckled, all giddy. he loved making his girlfriend all mad and heated up, it made it more fun to tease her endlessly. is this what you get for having a boyfriend who is a serious athlete?

she thought, having a boyfriend like jake, he wouldn’t have any time for her. he would be a booked and busy guy who wouldn’t have time for her. LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER. jake went out of his way to cancel his matches if it was date night, or you wanted to hang out with him.

he made sure to always had time with you, he would rather save you then the world.

“I’m gonna kiss your face a billion times and maybe we could go already and do some of the annoying shit you need to do, hm?”

“JAKE!”

“no. it’s baby time, your mine now glasses!” jake smiled evilly, not planning to let her leave. not even in a billion years.

“this is what you get for having a jock boyfriend with a false image.”

@ jwnstars … !! so cutesie core.

OK HSHSSGGS LETS CALM DOWN AFTER THAT MUCH FLUFF ???!!!?? 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 finally got out of my writing slump and gave into writing again. like a breath of fresh air.

anyway… I don’t know how people overlook jake as the mean frat boy ??? I see him more as the clingy bestfriend of the frat boy who always follows him around ‘cuz they besties !!!!🥹🥹💞💞🎀🎀

[lunasilvis]

.

[evanpetersmybf]

Be mine?

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.

Genre: Smut.

Word count: 3,172

Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.

A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.

He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.

He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.

Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.

“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”

“Huh, excuse me?”

“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.

You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.

“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”

He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.

“Have you listened to Nirvana?”

“Just like… Two songs?”

“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”

“Guilty.”

Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?

After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.

For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.

“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.

Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.

After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.

In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.

“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.

He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.

“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.

“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”

‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.

He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.

Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.

That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.

“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”

Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.

“I’m sorry, what did you?—”

“Did you like the song?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She’s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”

He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.

The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.

With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.

He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.

Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.

Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.

The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.

He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.

Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.

That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.

One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.

“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.

“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,

You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”

Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.

“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.

“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”

“No.”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.

Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.

His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.

His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.

“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Hahah, you funny.”

He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.

“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”

“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.

“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”

This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.

Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.

After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.

His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.

The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.

He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.

“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.

Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”

“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.

Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.

“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.

This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.

Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.

He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.

“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.

His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.

Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”

“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.

Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.

She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”

He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.

You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.

Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.

He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.

He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.

The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.

His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.

Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.

He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.

“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.

“Tate, I feel like I’m—”

“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.

All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.

“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”

You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”

Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.

“Y/N…?”

“Mh, what is it, Tate?”

“I love you… Please be mine?”

[kianely]

OFF THE DASHBOARD

i. FEATURING — Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

ii. SYNOPSIS — Relentless stacks of paperwork and arrests during patrols have Leon busy all the time. It doesn’t help that you’re out of town for some work business. Feeling deprived of your touch, he hastily calls you while in his car, needing to hear your voice.

iii. CONTENT WARNINGS — 18+ content (MDNI) Sub!Leon, masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, spit for lubrication, praise with tiny hints of condescending degradation (leon receiving) Focused mostly on Leon overall. Please check my DNI before interacting. Lowkey rushed, my bad LMAOO

Your boyfriend was a needy and pitiful mess. He stationed his car in an empty parking lot as soon as he got off his shift at the department. He had his lights turned off. He was ringing your phone, already having you on speaker in case you picked up. A bold move, but he never invested in a pair of earphones so it would have to do.

The slacks of his uniform were painfully tight, he needed you. Couldn’t get off on his own, he was fucking addicted to you. He used to be able to get off in just minutes by the simple thought of you. But he was getting greedy, you spoiled him rotten. He needed to feel you, or at least hear your voice coax him into an orgasm.

“C’mon,” he muttered out, running a hand through his messy hair out of desperation. His phone was beeping, the picture he had for your saved contact showing on his phone and illuminating his car a bit.

It was wishful thinking. It was midnight already, there’s no way you would–

“Hello?”

The greeting alone sent blood rushing to his cock, his mind was spinning at the sound of the voice he had been craving to hear the entire long and exhausting work day. His tongue ran across his lips, trying to make up for how dry his throat felt.

“Oh, thank god.” He let out an audible sigh of relief, one you could clearly hear over the phone. “I’m so sorry for calling so late and without any notice, it’s just…”

He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, not knowing how to continue his sentence. He couldn’t just straight up tell you that he had been fantasizing about you jerking him off for hours on end, right? The thought of your hands taking his uniform off at a tantalizing pace before finally wrapping your hand around his cock—it sounded so good. Or even the manner in which you’d teasingly run your fingers across his abdomen before tracing over the lines of his v-line, he was always so weak under your touch.

“It’s okay, I was awake catching up on a show anyway. You’ve been so busy lately and I miss you like crazy, I’m glad you called.” Your voice came through and he wanted to melt into a puddle in his car seat.

“I miss you too, so much. Listen—I’m kind of in a predicament right now,” he eventually managed to say with a breathless tone of voice, placing his hand on the bulge straining against his slacks, rubbing the area lightly and letting out a soft whimper. He hoped you’d get the picture, without having to vulgarly explain himself.

A beat, you registered the sound of Leon’s voice. He was horny, you could tell just by the undertone of need that seeped from his words. Usually he was more subtle, not so blatantly whimpering during a call. That was kinda hot though, your usually composed boyfriend was in need of release.

“Baby. Are you hard right now?”

The term of endearment made Leon’s heart quicken, there was something about the way you said it that made heat blossom across his cheeks. “Guilty.”

You could be cruel sometimes, but not today. Not when you hadn’t touched Leon in nearly three weeks because of conflicting schedules.

“Take your belt off,” your voice was gentle but Leon knew you were instructing him. “And let me hear it, too. Wanna know you’re listening to me.”

There was something about you bossing him around that was so incredibly sexy, he momentarily set his phone down on one of his thighs so you could hear the clanking of metal as he fumbled to take off his belt and gear. It took him longer than usual, and the adrenaline pumping through him made him hear his own pulse in his ears.

“Okay,” fuck, his voice was quivering and his belt was discarded off onto the passenger seat. “What now?”

“Mm,” you thought about it for a moment, just to tease him. Eventually, you settled on a response. “Stroke yourself over your boxers, and tell me what that pretty mind of yours was thinking about all day.”

He was a good boy, unzipping his pants and slipping his right hand underneath—finding the shape of his cock and gliding his hand up and down. The fabric of his boxers was already wet with his precum, it was sticking almost uncomfortably to him. His free hand found purchase on the edge of his car seat, short nails digging into the leather of it.

“I, uh.” He was stammering, mind struggling to formulate a coherent thought. You did this on purpose, making him talk even when he was struggling.

“C’mon sweetheart, you can do better than that. Don’t tell me you went all dumb just by touching yourself for a single second.”

Those taunts, fuck, that condescending tone you took. The windows of his car were undoubtedly going to fog up with all the ragged breaths he was taking. “Was thinking about your hand on my cock, and that thing you do with your thumb—like…oh fuck, when you rub the tip with it.”

A babbling mess, that’s what he was. “T–Thought about you spitting on my cock, and the way you look at me while you do. Want you. Need you.”

“Atta boy,” your praise made him gasp—the words shooting straight down the gutter. “Keep going, you sound so fucking pretty.”

He was almost drooling with the way his jaw was slackened, his lips feeling dry with each intake of breath through his mouth. Only you were given the heavenly experience of hearing all his little sounds, the hiccup of his breath and broken sobs.

“Can I touch myself now, please?” His request was quiet, spoken in a bashful manner.

You laughed at his question, wanting to play with him a little. “What do you mean? You are touching yourself.”

“Yeah but…” he let out a whine, beginning to feel frustrated. So damn impatient, the call had only been running for a few minutes and he was already being pouty. “Like, without my boxers. That’s what I meant. Please? I don’t know how much longer I can go.”

“So dirty. Where are you right now, Leon?”

He wanted to growl at you, how could you be asking such an unnecessary question in the middle of this? Were you trying to torture him? You didn’t even answer his oh so nicely worded request.

“Does it matter?” There was a little bit of frustration in his voice. Could he take his boxers off or not? “Parking lot.”

“Ah, right. So you’re asking me if you can take your boxers off in a public parking lot and touch yourself, then? You’re a cop, aren’t you? Isn’t that public indecency?”

“Babe.” His voice was so whiny, fingers getting ready to reach under his boxers. “Please. Just let me, there’s no one around, promise.” He craved your permission, even if he didn’t necessarily need it to touch himself.

You were so going to give him shit over this the next time the two of you hung out in person. “So impatient, fine, go ahead.”

His boxers were hastily shoved further down as soon as he got the green light, his fingers wrapping around his neglected cock. Tears brimmed at his eyes at the relief that flooded his senses, letting out a hiss as he stroked himself.

He imagined his hand was yours, mimicking the way you would touch him because he had it all memorized. “Oh god,” his eyes fluttered shut as his head tilted back towards the headrest—hips bucking up into his own hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“That’s it, keep going.” Hearing your boyfriend in such a messy state was getting to you too, your own hand snaking down your figure to the place that ached. “Spit on it.”

“What?” The command made him lose focus, his mind spinning with each passing second, “oh, wait, okay. Fuck, that’s hot.”

It was an easy task for him, saliva having already gathered in his mouth from the way he had been too focused on all the pleasure to even swallow. He let his spit land on the tip, watching as it ran it’s way down to the base.

With a high-pitched moan, he kept on going—a little faster than before. He was losing it, his rhythm progressively getting more sloppy as his stomach got tighter and tighter.

He really should’ve turned his ignition on so he could have some AC in his damn car, his uniform was going to be damp with sweat after this. Whatever, he owned a washing machine.

He could hear your encouragement and dirty talk, but he was too out of it to really pay attention. It didn’t matter, all he needed to know was that you were on the other line of the call, that’s the only way he could come in this situation.

“Not gonna last much longer,” he rasped out, giving the base of his cock some firm squeezes—the same motion you did to him whenever you gave him a handjob.

“I know,” you truly did, you could tell by the way he hadn’t responded to any of your praising comments, instead only receiving a mixture of heavy and uneven breathing as a response. “You can do it, sweetheart. Make a mess all over yourself.”

“Mm,” he heard that praise though, his knees felt like jelly. His hand was starting to cramp up but that was the last thing on his mind.

“Please,” he had no clue what he was begging for, the tears that glazed over his eyes started to spill. He hated that it wasn’t enough. Yeah, he was about to come, but his hand made only a decent substitute for yours.

“Gonna come, gonna come,” he repeated the phrase over and over again until his voice nearly gave out, “fuck, gonna—“

His eyebrows were knit together prettily, breathing momentarily paused as he gave some final tugs before his eyes rolled back, his hearing failing on him as all the noises turned to static.

He let out a silent moan, stripes of white landing onto the vest of his uniform. He inhaled and exhaled shuddering breaths as his body shook, slumping against his seat. His body felt limp and weak, hand cramping up from the way he had been going at it. “Oh my god…”

You gave him a couple moments to recuperate himself, “feeling good?”

“Better than good. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t picked up my call,” all the sexual tension of the day was finally exhausted from him, lazy smile forming on his face as he tried to catch his breath—he could hear you laughing over the phone.

“Gotten blue balls or something. Sooo, are you going to write yourself up now for public indecency?”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

[angelinpiink]

 ❥ Note: a little thirst! Inspired by some head canons I have coming soon for all the jjk men :3

Ex!Husband Nanami Who despite having been divorced from you for over 3 years still makes sure you’re taken care of. Part of this is because he feels guilty for being responsible for the fall apart of your marriage due to his line of work. Another motive being the fact that no matter what he’s always going to love you and though the marriage is over– he plans to remain true to the vows he spoke on your wedding day. so, as long as you're comfortable with it, he still provides for you. Sending you money whenever you need, whatever you need he’s the one you  call. That includes when you’re feeling needy, an itch that only he can satisfy. It takes one simple text message or a picture of you in lacy lingerie—that he more than likely paid for. (if you’re feeling bold, that is) and really want him to rush over the second he’s free. Regardless he won’t ever deny you, even if work leaves him forced to keep you waiting for a while. Eventually, you’ll be in his grasp... When he lets himself into your apartment, already having a key being that he is the one paying the rent. Your loving  ex-husband, Nanami, who is so quick to bend you over and pull your panties out of the way with gentle hands. One steadily caressing the flesh of your thigh as he pushes you into the mattress. His face straight as ever while you’re a flustered mess from the fact that you’re dripping and ready for him—in part to the fact that you had been touching yourself well before he arrived. Something that he’d punish you for had he not been too exhausted from a day's work to care. “I’ve Missed you so much.” You’ll breathe out, your fingers gripping at the sheets, once he’s finally inside you. Being the considerate man he is, he gives you a moment to adjust to the fact that he’s practically splitting you in two. His lips move against your neck, as he finally moves, thrusting himself deeper at a steady pace.  “Did you, dear? my sweet little wife couldn’t wait for a chance to cream on my cock.” he’ll say, his warm breath fanning across your face and sending shivers down your spine.  His words are followed by other sweet nothings in your ear. With complete disregard for the fact that you are no longer his wife. He’s hitting all the right spots, his thumb rubbing steady circles in your clit making you feel so high you couldn't even correct him. “M-more…please..”  He’ll have you begging, through your tears in a quivering. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven't i?” Nanami’s voice is kind in a way that feels almost taunting. He finds it adorable that even after everything you still have no shame in asking for what you want. Because you know he’ll give it.  He gives you everything he has fucking into you with rabid pace. “shh, it’s okay. I’m here to make up for it now.”  Nanami is a man of his word, after all. So he does just that, a hand gripping at your jaw as he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss.  He’ll spoil you rotten, giving in to every plea that leaves your lips. Until your voice is hoarse, and you’ve soaked the sheets with every orgasm he draws out of you.

masterlist

[blueparadis]

╰┈➤ ULTRAVIOLENCE ✦ SUGURU GETO.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ On Christmas evening of 2009 Geto Suguru receives an unexpected gift, a cure to his loneliness, and a curse to his mission of creating his "new world".

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader, cult leader!geto suguru, canon divergent, profanity, prostitution, yandere!getou suguru, possessive behavior,smut, f1ngering, hand job, mutual masturbation, nipple stimulation, mutual pining, heavy angst, angst and tragedy, canon-typical violence; 4,7k word count + this this for @nagumoan's collab: 'dance with the dead'

| blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. + cross-posted to ao3.|

30th of September, 2007.

The warmth and the humidity in the air have been settling on Geto’s skin for a while. The shrill cry of cicadas has been ringing in his ears. Even now, he can hear it amidst the sound of running water, washing dishes, and the table fan. 

“Otou-san will be home soon, Sugu. You don’t have to wait for him to come back. Nowadays, he works till late at night.” The elderly woman puts the poached egg in the ramen bowl and places it in front of her son. Suguru stares at the food with plain slate eyes. “Your father thinks he can help you with your higher studies.” —his mother wipes her frail, slightly wrinkled hands in her apron before dragging the chair and sitting in front of her son, face to face— “But actually, he just misses having you around the house since you moved in the dorms last month. Is the food there okay? Are you eating well?”

Suguru does not speak. He gulps remembering the taste of curses. He has been doing his job like a robot all this summer— exorcise, absorb, digest. exorcise, absorb, digest, exorcise, absorb, digest, absorb, digest— “How is Satoru?” his mother asks pulling him back into reality. Her smile was so soft smile that Suguru thought it could make lilies bloom. He just listens to his mother like he usually does whenever he visits her. His eyes fall onto the ramen bowl again, there are hot fumes emerging from it. They must smell delicious like he remembers. But unfortunately, it failed to thrum the strings of Geto Suguru’s heart. 

“Okaa-san, it’s okay. I’m not that hungry. I can wait for Otou-san to come home.” he remarks, smiling at his mother letting the food get cold. He has done this so many times, engaging his mother in talk so that she does not notice how hard it is for him to chew, swallow & eat without experiencing the taste and smell of it. All he can feel on his tongue is the rotten taste of curses, the aroma of dying corpses of his fellow jujutsu sorcerers. Maybe this is why he is losing weight so fast, not because of the heat. The more he tried to cling onto the mundanity of humans the farther it slipped away from him; like sand spilling through the gaps of his fingers.

“But why aren’t you in your school dress, my dear?” His mother asks, noticing him in normal black trousers and shirt.

“Oh! It got too much dirt.” He responds, looking at the clock in the kitchen. 

This time will be the last time he sees his mother’s smile, hears her voice, sees her cook food for him, and the last time he welcomes his father to home.

3rd of February, 2008

“Oka-san. Otou-san. I’m turning 18 today.”  Suguru jocked down to sit in front of his parents' graveyard. He places a few incense sticks with the fragrance of chrysanthemum, two bowls full of ramen, and some sake in front of the graveyard. He looks at the poached eggs, and the lump in his throat bobs once. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come on your funeral day.”

“Neeh—Oka-san, are you listening?” His eyes perk up. “Is it bad that I don’t regret any of this?” There is a pause before he stands up again. He finishes his last bit of cigarette and burns the butt with his cursed energy. “But you know what? I’m now less angry and more guilty. Guilty of so many things—”

“Geto-sama, we don’t have much time. They will tail us soon if we are here any longer than this.” Manami speaks with worry carefully buried under her commanding tone. His phone vibrates. He checks the caller ID. Shui Kong it read. A salacious curve appears at one corner of his lip. Disbanding the star religious group was a piece of cake for him. And, now with the help of Shui Kong, he will get an endless influx of money and curses in no time yet it would not be enough to defeat ‘the strongest’; he thinks. nope, that’s wrong, deep down, he knows that.

“Yeah, you are right. Nanako and Mimiko will get scared if they wake up and find none of us.” Geto smiles before turning on his feet to walk. As he starts to walk Manami waits till he goes ahead of her, at least eight feet from her and then she follows Geto Suguru. Geto's shadow does not even touch Manami’s, never does, she makes sure of that. She does not belong to his shadow, nor as his comrade but perhaps a part of the ‘family’ that Geto-sama keeps talking about. 

“I won’t be here next year,” Suguru murmurs to himself before stepping out of the graveyard. He never looked back that day not while walking, not while getting in the car, and not even through the mirror. He did not feel the need to look back.

24th of December 2009

Geto Suguru skims through the thick crowd in the front lounge of one of the most expensive brothels in the city like the bow of a ship through the waves. There are men on couches, beautiful women over them, and the blended aroma of strong cologne and burning tobacco fills the air. Not only that, the tingling music mixed with waves of laughter of women and men makes Geto slaver at the thought of killing them all. He could do it now. He has both, power and confidence. But he is not here to create a massacre.

“Getou-sama,” a familiar low hum reaches his ears making him turn his head. At first, he thought he was just imagining it then he felt a tug in his baggy pants. He lowers his eyes to the ground.

“Ahhhhh! Nanako—Suguru takes her in his arms and clears his throat before speaking making it tart at every stretch of his words— “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me at the car? It's not safe for you here.” Not only it is unsafe but also inappropriate. A girl of her age should not witness the path that could also been her if he had not saved Nanako and her twin sister two years ago. Geto strolls back towards his car. “Negi, make sure she does not follow me. ” He instructs this young lad who drove Geto today keeping a sleeping Nanako inside the car. 

“Well, she wouldn't have been here if she didn't fight with her sister,” Negi responds before bowing down. Geto watches the car go inside the parking area and then he vanishes into the thick crowd like a pebble in the wind of lust, power, money, and scandal. He earns a few curious stares and with such enormously handsome features and elegantly electrifying personality who would miss? It dawns on his mind that he killed the Yakuza who owned this brothel a week ago. The crowd is bearable, well, penetrable at least. Walking amongst non-sorcerers makes him nauseous at times but now he has reached the point where a part of him is willing to abolish this useless crowd in a snap. But he does not need to, not now. Now is not the time, nor the place. 

Geto Suguru should have been at his new home with his new family spending this fine Christmas evening drinking. In all honesty, he did not even have to cut through this lustrous mob if Shui Kong kept his word, that is, delivering the money in the proper place and time. The only reason why he came in person to collect the money was because Shui Kong was the one who helped him to get a grasp on the star religious group. Not only that, he kept giving Geto information about such groups, and with his cursed manipulation technique he gobbled them up in no time. It was a walk in the park for him.

There was a steady flow of curses and money. Even certain small yakuza gangs, the smart ones but with lower manpower, started to send favors to appease him. He is like a god of the underworld now. But some dumb power-hungry yakuza men refused to retort to such steps and hence, they fell prey to his curses. He is going to eventually kill all these foxes but not now. He needs them now, he needs them to dilute his presence and make himself untraceable in the hands of jujutsu sorcerers. Killing the lions has already been a huge loss. 

“There you are, Mr.Kong.” Geto remarked walking into the room. He does not take a sit rather stands against the door almost covering the entrance. 

“Forgive me—” Shui starts with a brilliant smile that has cracked more deals than existed. He is not a pawn but a rook. “I would have gone to your place but I am needed to resolve an issue here.”

Geto chuckles. “Maybe it's your need that brought you here.” He quipped as Shui kept two briefcases on the bed. 

Shui Kong gives him an assertive look before smiling. He lights up a cigarette and says, “ Would have been a happier man if that were the case but— ” There is a ridge between Geto’s eyebrows as he refuses to finish his thoughts. Blowing a puff into the air he turns his head to the other side of the room, towards another door, and yells from the bottom of his lungs. “Princess, I don't have all day.” Geto’s eyebrows do not let go of the tension. His arms are now crossed tightly across his chest, lower lip gleaming since he swiped his tongue across it. He just needs to see this princess, just for once. 

“You see, someone asked for her, a fox from a rival gang.” Kong starts to explain. The cigarette in between his index and middle finger keeps sizzling in scarlet red. “he is saying he is gonna pay full for her— you know — but she was attacked while working —”

Geto’s dark eyes are now stuck on the doorknob. It starts to rotate. He registers Shui’s words who is scrolling through his phone to call them. The click of the doorknob makes Geto release the breath he was holding back, slowly. Before the slightest part between the door and the frame, Geto’s lips part exclaiming, “Shhhhhhh!” with a hiss at the end. 

You unlock the door and wait for an opening to interrupt their conversation.

Shui Kong looks at Geto and then he follows those dark drunk eyes of Geto Suguru that took him to the other side of the room. There you stood, in a translucent white dress covering you from head to toe. There is a rose around your neck and rose leaves on the hem of your full-sleeved dress but beneath the dress, anyone could easily see the bandages around certain parts of your body — scattered and ripped. Your nipples are visible too. They are perked. Geto maintains his stance, hands inside his pocket and standing by supporting his shoulder against the door frame. Only his lips move, growling and raging underneath. “So, there are still those who don't obey me,” His eyes drink in your appearance so shamelessly; utterly shamelessly. 

You rake away your eyes from this man of Six feet and some inches, clamping your palms around your upper arms. Geto walks inside the room. “There will be no exchange of anything from here, Shui Kong-san.” He does not take any of the suitcases just your cell phone from the dressing table.

“Passcode?”

You exchange glances with Shui Kong before opening your mouth. He nods. You answer him, “4444.” Geto's eyes flash onto you checking if you are mocking him or not. You are not. He unlocks your phone checks the search history. 

“There’s a lot of porn here.” 

You rub your upper arms slowly and say, “It’s not like my clients are interested in my pleasure— or my well-being.” 

“You need to check her phone to tell? Can't you tell just by looking at her?” That earns Shui Kong a momentary glare. 

“Yet you are willing to sell her,” Geto prompts sarcastically with a smile plastered on his face. There is an edge in his voice. Shui does not protest. He knows what he is doing. “You can stay with me,” He offers, without thinking about the consequences of it. “Of course, you’ll keep working, then.” It takes you a moment to decipher his words but it is not something unexpected. 

“Oh, I don’t mind, whatever you want.” You say quickly. “I can follow orders.” Embarrassment seeps into your skin as you realize how rushed those words were that came out of your mouth. Scanning him through the corner of your eye, you find him smirking still checking your phone.

“Get her things in the car. She will be staying with me from now on.” Geto remarks slipping the phone in his pocket before leaving.

Shui Kong sits on the bed, soft and pink with a thud. “Do you realize what you are doing, Y/N?” 

“You heard him.” You say getting out of those high heels and changing into flats. Even though you are bruised you managed to get your trolley. It is a good thing that you wore a long coat to cover yourself up. People are already staring, what would they have done if you turned up in such scantily dressed attire? Your Madame has already been summoned. Getting out of the building you look around and find Geto Suguru talking to your Madame. Shui Kong is also there. The moment you open the door of the car you spot a kid sleeping on the back seat. This must be Nanako. You adjust the kid's head on your lap. She's gonna get her neck sprained if she sleeps like that. Through the window, you see Geto still talking to your Madame, as he keeps jerking his leg impatiently and occasionally scratching his forehead with his thumb.

“We can't afford to do that — her regulars — they will complain. ” she tartly remarks. 

“Well, give them a discount. You know how the system works, so figure something out with Shui Kong-san.” 

“Have it your way then. She was a jinx anyways ” She remarks letting all the disappointment out. It piques Geto’s interest because when he saw you, you were not looking at him, you were looking behind him. A feeble curse not visible to normal people but visible to people with enough cursed energy to become a sorcerer or an exorcist. He specifically customized this curse after digesting it to pick up ‘talents’ like you who are considered as ‘freaks’ by those idiots. Just like Nanako and Mimiko.

“What do you mean?” He tries to sound curious hiding his disgust underneath the question because he has seen all the gore behind the glory of it all. 

“People say that she is a witch. She kills men and takes their money. She’s got a black cat, a big one. Can talk to birds. I’ve seen her—” Suddenly the street lights, the honking of the cars, and the sound of footsteps of passersby became loud. Geto could not hear her properly anymore. Damn filthy monkeys.

“Excuse me, I’ve got to make a call.” One more minute of her blabbering nonsense he would have killed her. Geto calls Manami stepping aside in the dark shade of the alley. He talks for about five minutes before looking your way. You do not look away, rather give him a warm smile and bow your head to appreciate his kind gesture. He immediately turns around. You think he did not see you or maybe looking at someone else or somewhere else but all he could do is stumble on his words while talking to Manami. It’s distracting. You’re distracting. 

Geto Suguru walks towards the car and you fold Nanako’s legs a little to make space for him but he disappoints you thoroughly. He sits beside the driver, the barrier is up so you can not see his face. Disappointment and hurt sedimenting at the bottom of your heart you arch your head and close your eyes. It feels like, after a long time, you have closed your eyes and not for the pretense of pleasure.

January, 2010.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Geto drawls lazily as he sits on the sofa, still in his kasaya freshly finishing after seeing his visitors. He was out of town for almost a week and hence today's session was longer than usual. He needs a bath, a nice warm bath, not some scum to show up at his doorstep begging for you.

There are a bunch of men standing behind the older man, who seems to be the leader of the group; all armed, and Geto sits alone at the opposite. At times like these, he feels a little closer to the god. A middle-aged man, speaks keeping his gun on the center table, perhaps to assert dominance Geto thinks too but it makes him nothing but widen his smile. “You have something that belongs to me. And I have something that would interest you more so why don't we—”

Splotches of blood fall on his gun, warmth settling on his cheeks too like drops of oil. He turns his head to find that one of his men is sliced into two. Geto clears his throat gaining his attention again. “What a mess you have made, Toshiro-san. ” He gets up from his seat and before leaving he remarks huskily, “Please clean this up before you leave, Toshiro-san” The man, dumbfounded by what just happened, nods in agreement watching the man disappear into the inner quarters.

The dawn dies, painting the blue sky with its blood-red, agony welcoming the full moon and her bevy of stars. At night, Geto Suguru is not a monk anymore. He is much more than that — a father figure to two homeless orphans, an idol to a few who believe in his dream of creating a ‘new world’ and a savior to you.

It has been almost a month since Geto Suguru brought you to his home. At the dawn of the 25th of December 2009, when you woke up, Manami was there to help you with the chores and show you around. You have spotted Negi a few times while roaming and exploring the house, but there was no sign of that man, your so-called ‘savior’. When you asked Manami, she was rather cold while answering, “Geto-sama will be home around New Year's.”

It was not hard to pinpoint her jealousy for you. “Whore”, “Slut”, “Homebreaker”, “Witch” — the list continues. Her jealousy is just the tip of ice-berg. Maybe she had to sacrifice something greater when Geto took her in, something more important than freedom. Apart from her cold demeanor, everything was just fine; it was more than you could ask for. The wounds and bruises have started to fade. They are barely pinnable now. Nanako has a twin sister, Mimiko. They have warmed up to you more quickly than you imagined and a part of you was grateful to them since Manami became humbler in her gestures.

This fine morning, you noticed a new pair of shoes near the doormat. You knew it had to be his, Geto Suguru. He is home. Today might be the first time you get to talk to him, pay off his debts, or maybe keep working while staying here just like he said or whatever he decides to do with you. It was odd that he did not suspect you at all, or maybe he told someone to do a background check. He seems like the kind of person who would hold such powers. You have heard about him even if they reached out to you in the form of rustling rumors.

“Are you comfortable here?” 

Losing your balance you topple on your feet and eventually fall on the ground. Nanako and Mimiko peeks by his legs. They are not even at his knee length, so small, so fragile and so full of life. They laugh and so do you. Geto Suguru is unimpressed. He crouches down pulling the girls in front of him. “Go and play in my room but don’t fight, alright?” The shift in his demeanor amazes you. He has changed. He is nothing like you have been warned about. 

As soon as the twins leave, giggles and voices filling the corridor Geto’s eyes shift on you. You are still on the ground, legs half-folded. He extends his hand towards you to help you get up but you flinch away, sliding against the wall. In the middle of this long corridor, Geto Suguru is on his knees before you watching as if something fell from the sky, a boon, an angel. 

His lips extended from ear to ear, flashing his teeth. “What's up with this coy act of yours?” He wets his bottom lip.“Too timid for a whore. I know you can see things.” Your eyebrows grew closer as you got up and formed a response in your head.

“It's hard to break years of habit,” you speak, “Sir.” you quip, seeing him still on his knees. Why isn’t he standing up? Does he need a hand?

“Not gonna complain that I called you a ‘whore’ ?” He taunts, standing up and facing you.

“Too timid for that sir,” you say keeping up the eye contact. But that does not last long. Geto’s dark globules follow your behind. You notice too that there is a shadow on the wall of the corridor of a lady. He sighs heavily exclaiming, “Manami. You can come out now,” 

Timidly she walks out of the room exclaiming in a firm tone after clearing her throat, “Getou-sama, your bath has been prepared.” 

“Have you prepared my clothes too?” He narrows the gulf in between the two of you and grabs a few strands of your hair smelling it, letting his lips graze over a little, and checking your reactions as Manami answers.

“No. Not yet. I’ll do it right—“Actually, prepare two sets of clothes.” Geto interrupts. The way your chest heaves, up and down, frantically tempts him to tease you more. “Hers too. She will be joining me.” 

Geto was kind not to ask you to strip in front of him. It was not like you would not be used to that; you had practiced enough still you thought his eyes would alone eat you away if you were to undress in front of him. Curling up your braided hair in a bun and securing it with a clip you enter the bathroom. He is already in the bathtub, head arched, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down. You walk slowly trying not to make any sound. “You know, of all the curses I’ve swallowed—” you gasp loudly palming your face. 

“Can you not do that, please? Every time i feel like my heart is gonna jump out of my chest.” So many words in one sentence; a question; a request; a demand; a plea. Suguru blinks: once, twice, and thrice. “Yours have a very distinct sweet smell.” His words slurred, inaudible at the end. This is the first time he has seen you speak so much and that too, only to him but that is not what warms his heart. ‘Sir.’ you did not add sir. He hated the honorifics with you. “And . . . I’m not a curse.” You mutter before dipping yourself in the bathtub sitting against the wall of the bathtub facing him.

You notice the huge X-shaped scar over his chest. “How did you get that?” you ask playing with the water not meeting his eye. His toes touch the side of your hips, hands resting on the white of the bathtub but when he does not answer you look up to him and see his hands near your ankles. There is a brief eye contact of realization about what’s he up to and in the next blink you are close to him.

“Do you wanna feel it?” He asks touching his forehead against yours.

“The pain?” You say, running his hands over his chest careful enough not to touch his nipple. “Or just the scar.” 

“How did you get this?” He rubs the mark of one of your wounds on your arm. “And this?” he asks, a little concerned by the number and place of the wounds you have all over the body. They have faded but not totally. The agony on his face is clear but you remind yourself it is not because of you. It must be because he is reminded of how he got his scar. 

“Mostly clients.” You answer noticing his hands trailing up to your breasts. Your mouth parts, eager moan willing to escape. “But some men like them. Some men don’t. So, they pay to heal them in a way like they were never there,”

“What kind do you think I’m?” Suguru asks but you fail to answer since his hands have started to massage your breasts, nice and slow. Your moans have started to weigh more, the bottom and lower lip parting with each other more. Your vision turns black as his mouth latches on the column of your neck but that is not where it is needed now. Your taut nipples need desperate attention. Moving closer to him, your palm is over his cock. He is hard, leaking even. A gran escapes from his mouth, edgy and elongated. One of his fingers dips inside your vagina. Woah. You’re wet, so very wet. Even under the water, he can feel your arousal, even smell it. You buck your hips a bit giving him an invitation. The sloshing sound of water feels more embarrassing than your moans. He does not take it but when you start to pump his cock in long, deep, and fast strokes he leans towards you taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You should have known how strong he is when he dragged you closer to himself because the way he is sucking and biting you think you will cum soon. He starts to rub your clit in rough, rigorous movements as his mouth works on your nipples. For a moment your hands feel lithe; your hands pause working his cock.

“You smell so good,” He murmurs unlatching his mouth and licking up to your collarbone from the base of your cleavage. You twist and tilt your head as his lips explore your neck while pushing his fingers up and down inside your vagina, nudging your sweet spot. Your hands start to pump his cock again, harder and faster this time, reverting him the favor with the same intensity and emotion. You feel him smirk against your skin before he bites your earlobes making you jolt. Another arm that rested on the valley of your waist tugs you closer, again; you think he is going to pull you onto his lap, fuck you deep, nice, and full. “Fuck” he mutters feeling his cock tense up. The sloshing of water now gets mixed with your loud moans mixed with his low grunts. Geto looks at your face, your eyes meeting his and occasionally landing on his lips and one of your hands gripping too hard on the whites of the bathtub. Both of your hands pick up the pace, matching the intensity and the ragged breathing. Eyes rolling white, jaw clenching hard, head arching back as the wave of orgasm approaches both of you.

“You’re close,” you huff and pant in between feeling his warm ejaculated fluid onto your hand.

“So are you,” he murmurs cumming as you keep pumping his cock till it stops. Geto pulls his fingers out of your messy aching cunt and shamelessly puts them in his mouth, licking and sucking it to the base of his fingers. You watch him as if he is the man to take your first time. The loneliness, the affection, the desire— all hit Suguru in a flash like a downpour as he notices you looking. He gets out of the bathtub and steps into the shower zone. When you hear the water running, you step out of the bathtub too but do not join him in the shower instead grab your phone with a towel that was in the pocket of his previous attire. Typing a number, you hit the send button and immediately delete it from the history.

The message read: [“I’m in.”]

note: special thanks to my dearest fumi aka dom ( @akiniku ) for constantly listening to my ideas, talking me through them, and beta-reading this when I finished it. I finished writing this today and it was so rushed by Dom talked me through it and gave me the course I needed. hope you enjoyed reading it. thank you for making it this far. i do want to continue this but will see if i can manage time to write after october.

also tagging @orchid3a @semisgroupie

[youandiwerealive]

Heaven is bulletproof [rd]

Author’s note: dad!Rúben makes me feel SICK, I need to have his babies 😩 thank you to the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoy it! Mwah mwah

(Also I woke up a bit ago and proofread this in a rush, so there might be typos)

Wc: 3123 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

Rúben has been tired. Even more than just “tired”, he has been exhausted, lately. He was used to having his days filled with practice and recovery sessions, but he was not used to doing all that and having to come home to a very pregnant wife, who could barely walk through the house sometimes - the swollen feet and the back pain being unbearable most of the days. Being eight months pregnant was really taking a tool on you.

On top of all that, he still had to deal with the hormones and the mood swings. God, Rúben had already lost count to the crazy amount of times that he came home to a crying wife. He would get so worried, asking you what happened while seeing you crazily sob about something that must have really upset you.

“We didn’t ate this banana yesterday and now it’s rotten” - you would innocently cry your eyes out, feeling so emotional, irrationally feeling sorry for the poor banana that was going to waste.

Rúben would sigh at your reactions - not because he was done with them, but mainly because of how exhausted he feels. It’s clearly not your fault, he knows it. He’s so grateful that your body is going through so much to prepare your baby to this crazy world. But he just wishes that things could be a little easier now.

His routine has been mental. He can’t barely sleep an entire night anymore, due to you constantly waking up and moving around in bed, not being able to find a position to sleep in without feeling pain. He wakes up feeling tired already, makes you breakfast, gets ready to go to the training center, comes back, does all the domestic chores and everything you need. It’s just too much. He’s been managing to deal with it, but he can’t deny that this chaotic routine really is destroying him - both physical and mentally.

If the man can’t have any rest, how can he play at the same level that he used to? Right, he can’t.

His performance has been getting worse, he couldn’t focus on the game, his tackles got sloppier, he couldn’t do anything straight on the pitch. He knew it, Pep knew it, you knew it. Pep would now put him in the bench in most of the games, and just that fact alone makes Rúben fully frustrated.

He’s been trying to keep it cool, to stay calm and collected, but his mind has been driving him crazy, he would always feel anxious lately and his bad mood was present at all times.

When he was around you, he tried his best not to disturb your peace, but he feels like he needs to vent - to talk to somebody about the huge turn that his reality took in just a couple of weeks. He reaches to his team mate and also one of his best friends, Bernardo - him being a father as well. He could try and talk to you, but you probably would just feel guilty about it and cry in response.

He spoke to Bernardo about how tiring this last month has been to him, how he wished he could just stop the world for a second so he could have a break - but he can’t. Everything is his responsibility now, and on top of that, he’s been getting a lot of hate lately from the fans, due to his lack of performance. People claim that he’s been showing “no professionalism” lately, and that makes him sick.

Bernardo advised your husband to talk to you about how he felt more often. You are tired and scared, but Rúben is too.

You started noticing changes in his behaviour - he doesn’t seemed so happy about this baby anymore. He would still help you with everything you needed, but now he had an attitude and a temper that would silently make you cry when he wasn’t home.

So, you decided to talk to him about it. He arrived home from his game, you assumed that he would come back in a good mood, since they won. Rúben played the second half, making an okay performance - definitely not the worst you’ve been of him this season.

Still, he came home with his face scrunched up in a worried expression - the only one that paints his face regularly now. He gets near you on the couch, kisses your head and gently touches your belly. It’s been like this for the last weeks. He doesn’t talk much, doesn’t give you as much affection as he would before. He leaves you in the living room, and goes to the kitchen - probably to start making dinner for you two.

You try your best to get up from your seat, even with the crazy amount of pain that you’ve been feeling lately, and follow him to the kitchen.

“I think we need to talk” - you blurted out to him. He looks up at you with his eyebrows lifted up, signalling you to continue speaking.

You take a deep breath and try to calm your anxiety and shaky hands, feeling like you could cry just by the thoughts that are going through your brain now - fuck you hormones.

“Uhm, I’ve been noticing that you’ve been a bit different with me and…” - you try to speak but your voice is already trembling.

“… and I just want you to be honest. If you don’t want me anymore, I can leave” - you try your best for your words to sound clear.

“What?” - Rúben asks with his face totally scrunched up in confusion.

“Leaving? What are you taking about?” - he sounds completely surprised now.

“Well, you’ve been acting weird, doing things with an attitude. You’re not as loving as you used to be and it changed very quickly. I don’t know what happened but I’m just begging you to be honest with me” - you’re fully crying now, hating yourself for being so emotional, but you really can’t stop this feeling in your chest that tells you that you might lose the love of your life at anytime now.

His heart breaks at the sight in front of him. Despite all the times when he tried so hard to not annoy you with his problems, he ended up doing worse: made you feel like he doesn’t love you anymore, doesn’t want you anymore. He reaches out to hug you tightly, engulfing you in his arms - the only place you can call ‘home’.

“I’m so sorry, babe” - he says, his voice with a hint of pain and shaking a bit too, now. He kisses your head and caresses your hair as you try to calm yourself down.

“What’s going on? Please, just tell me” - you beg him, as you clean the tears from your face.

He sighs, as he directs you sit on the sofa again, wanting you to be comfortable.

“I have just been really tired lately” - he admits as you two sit down.

“Is that what’s causing your attitude? Is it because you haven’t been getting much sleep? Is it because I move too much-“ - he tries to stop your rambling.

“Amor, I think it’s the fact that everything is happening at the same time. It’s you, the baby, the training, the actual games, the house chores, the lack of sleep, the constant hate comments on social media now… it’s like all eyes are on me, now. I have a thousand things to do by the hour, it’s just getting too much” - he explains softly, allowing some tears to run down his face now, something that rarely happens.

Just like he thought, you are feeling guilty about it, he can see it in your face. He caresses your back softly, trying to get rid of the pain there and the guilt that’s now pooling in your head.

“Why didn’t you talked to me before? Before things got this out of hand” - you asked.

“I didn’t wanted to disturb you. You are almost 9 months pregnant now, preparing yourself to bring our baby into this world. I didn’t wanted to upset you by talking about how tired I am, when I know for sure that you’re feeling a thousand times worse than me” - he continues caressing your body, lovingly looking you in the eyes.

“Still, Rúben. You should’ve come to me. I know I can’t help that much right now, but we would’ve found a solution. Like the house chores thing, we could hire someone to come here and do all the cleaning for us. That would help a bit already. And you really need to rest, so I can sleep on the guest room for a night or two, I don’t mind. That way you might actually have a full night of sleep” - your mind rushes to try and solve all the problems he listed earlier.

“Y/N, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to move to another room, there’s no need for you to sleep alone. What if you need something?” - his “always worried and protective” veneer now showing.

“If I need something, I scream until you wake up and hear me. If I don’t need anything, at least you sleep the entire night, without having to constantly wake up because of me always moving around” - you give him a reassuring smile, while holding his hand in yours now.

“Thank you. You’re right, I should’ve talked to you earlier, but I guess I was embarrassed. Didn’t wanted you to think that I was complaining about being more tired than you - the actual pregnant one, and I ended up fucking it up more. Did you really thought I didn’t wanted you and or baby anymore?” - he almost flinches at the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, I didn’t knew what to think. Everything was okay and in this last month and a half I believe, everything got so different. I thought you didn’t liked the idea of us having a baby anymore” - you confessed with a sad tone.

“Babe, there’s nothing that I want more in this life than to have our baby with us. I want to hold him, while kissing you and tell you both how much I love you. You are my life, my family, Y/N. And if it’s not the two of us, it doesn’t make sense” - he gives you a loving kiss on the lips.

“We are each other’s home, remember? We are the other’s safe place. Don’t be afraid to open up for me, babe. I’m always by your side” - you tell him before you two kiss again.

Rúben complied to the solutions you’ve found. A nice and gentle lady comes by everyday to clean and organise the house, and Rúben has been spending some nights on the guest room - earning his well deserved rest. His mood started to get better, him feeling a little lighter. His performance on the pitch got better as well, and the hateful comments subside.

One day, when he was doing a recovery session after a game, his phone started ringing and he immediately picked up as he saw it was you calling.

“Hey babe, is everything alright?” - he asked.

“Rúben, you have to come home right now” - you manage to say, already in pain.

“Why, what happened?” - his voice already sounding worried.

“My waters just broke” - that’s all he needs to hear before he’s running around, gathering his belongings and explaining to the club staff that he needs to leave, that he’s going to be a father.

Rúben rushed to get home, and he saw you curled up in a lot of pain, accompanied by the cleaning lady who didn’t left your side until Rúben arrived.

He thanked the lady for helping you and he gets you in the car as he crazily drives to the hospital.

Once you’re there, everything is happening so fast, it’s like your minds can’t keep track of what’s going on. And it’s when you have to start pushing, that your mind gets tied in a knot, and you can’t react. You do a few light pushes, but the pain is unbearable, and you start doubting your ability to get your baby out.

“This is too much, I can’t. It hurts too much” - you say as you start crying, feeling weak and frustrated.

Rúben is right by your side and he holds your hand tightly.

“Amor, please look at me. You can do this, I’m right here with you, we’re in this together, remember? We’re bulletproof together baby, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, you got this babe” - he motivates you until you start pushing again.

The pain is the only thing you can think about right now, and everything sounds muffled to you. Your ears catch Rúben’s praises as you push harder and harder, just wanting to hold your baby now.

“That’s it amor, you got this”, “you’re doing great love, we’re almost there”, “you’re so strong amor, our baby is almost here with us, just push a little more”

When it’s over, and you finally hear your baby crying, you burst into a crying mess too. Rúben is speechless at what just happened, kissing your head non-stop and looking at your baby while the nurses get her cleaned up.

It’s a girl. Matilde. Means “mighty in battle”, and she really made you two fight everything and everyone to keep sane in the last couple of months. She is the reason of everything now, you’re living a full circle moment when it all makes sense.

“You’re so strong, baby, I am so proud of you” - Rúben whispers in your ear, himself getting emotional now too.

You hold your baby for the first time and you two immediately start crying at the sight of her. So tiny, so adorable, so harmless and unaware of all the reality surrounding her. She doesn’t know how loved she is yet, she doesn’t know that she came to unite her mom and dad even more - if that was even possible.

After a while, you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, your body aching and tired from the labour. Rúben relaxes you, telling you to sleep without a care in the world, while he looks out for your daughter.

Rúben takes his shirt off, wanting to feel the skin to skin contact with his baby. He holds her gently and incredibly near his chest. He doesn’t want to put her in her crib, feeling completely drunk off her daughter, her smell, her touch, the new feeling that he now has in his chest. He’s holding his entire world in his arms right now, nothing matters anymore.

He gives her little kisses on her forehead and admires her features. The little hair that she has on her head, her little pointy nose just like her father’s and her big brown eyes. The baby looks attentively at Rúben as well, like she’s studying him too.

“Hey amor, it’s your dad” - he smiles at her, introducing himself.

“You’re so beautiful, even more than I could have ever dreamed” - he gently caresses her cheek with his index finger, making the baby smile.

Rúben can’t stop the tears from flowing slowly down his face. He’s in awe with his baby, looking so precious and perfect in his embrace.

“Mom and dad love you so much already, you have no idea” - he starts explaining to the newborn. “These last two months were a bit hard on us, you gave mommy a lot of work and pain, but it’s all worth it now” - he kisses her one more time, unable to stop himself.

“You were so desired, amor. We dreamed about having you for so many times. When your mommy was asleep, I would always hold myself as close as I could to her belly, where you were, so I could feel you moving next to me. I would always imagine how you would look, how would your personality be like. I would cry myself to sleep sometimes, anxious to meet you, doubting if I was going to be a good father to you.

And I promise you now, Matilde, I am going to give you this world and more. But listen, I am not going to spoil you with the newest iPhone, because I want you to value the greatest things in life. I am going to take you on adventures, I am going to show you new countries, other cultures, different realities. I’m teaching you everything I know about respect, loyalty, discipline and kindness. I’m going to play princesses with you, take you to football games of course, teach you how to play the guitar - like I learned a few years ago when we were on lockdown because of this boring virus. Anyway, that’s a story for later.

I promise I’ll always be your best friend, meu amor. I am going to teach you portuguese so we can gossip without your mommy to understand a word” - he laughs quietly at how silly he sounds.

“And you can talk to me about everything. And I mean everything, Matilde. You can talk to me about your friends, your insecurities, your fears, your mistakes. I don’t want you to be like those kids nowadays, that keep things hidden from their parents. I am here to help you and protect you, baby, it’s my life mission now. You can even talk to me about boys - but you better know that you’re only allowed to date when you’re 40 years old” - he smiles at the baby who looks at him like she’s understanding every single word he’s telling her.

“You’re my world, meu amor. I love you more than life, and I’ll never stop proving it to you” - he kisses her once again as she now grips his finger with her entire hand, looking incredibly small next to Rúben’s.

His world stopped. He doesn’t hear any sound except her baby’s, he doesn’t see anyone else beside her and her mom. He finally has his family reunited like he dreamed for so many times. And now, he doesn’t care about sleeping, he doesn’t care about mean comments. He doesn’t care about anything else.

What truly matters is being strongly held in his arms now, and that strong feeling in his chest will never fade away. Nothing can tear you down when you three are together, and Rúben is just now realising that heaven truly is bulletproof.

[billysgun]

your girl

billy the kid x cowgirl!reader |requested!|Ciara is a childhood friend turned lover one drunken night...he lives with the consequence daily and now, with his eyes set on you, you do too.|

"how 'bout this one?" Ciara smiles, curls bouncing as she picks up an obviously rotten fruit

"mm, it looks ripe!" Billy smiles back at her as she lets out a soft laugh, placing the moldy fruit down as her painted nails skim the apples

"can 'ya check over there for some oranges, there in season" she purses her lips before pointing down ways way, he nods and passes through civilians before finding the citrus

well, not just the citrus.

your hair was out of the bun you usually kept it in, he knows because it's tucked under the cowboy hat you usually have cemented on when you ride.

he saw your horse when they walked in but he only prayed he'd be able to see you.

you're Jesse's sister. he's been riding with you since he can remember and also felt his heart race around you since he can remember

all this time and he's only stuttered a few words to you.

"sir, are you gonna buy that?" the cart owner asks and he shakes his head to get you out of it, flipping a coin to the owner as he takes the orange he'd been gripping for a few minutes.

he loves Ciara...but he doesn't love her.

they were friends until a drunken mistake and awoke no longer virgins and suddenly a couple.

he hates himself for it. taking her virginity when he had more whiskey than blood in him and now he pays the price with this relationship they never questioned.

he assumed the pet names and touches would stop after a few weeks, but then he heard from the townspeople that they were together.

he'd go up to her and tell her...but he feels too guilty. and now you're here and he can't think straight

"Hey Billy" your southern accent rings through his ears and he turns to see you, hand on your gunbelt and a smile on your lips. he can feel his face burn at the sight

"hey, Y/n. what 'cha doin' here?"

"gettin' food." you snort out the obvious and he shakes his head, feeling like an idiot around you

"I assume you doin' the same with your girl?" you tilt your hat toward Ciara.

even you knew about this.

"uh- yeah, I am- we are..." he corrects, staring at the sand beneath him as you let out a giggle that always makes him smile

"well, I'll see you back at the cabin" you grin before spinning on your boots and walking back toward your horse, he wants to punch himself...but when he turns to see an awaiting Ciara, he wants to punch himself even more.

"Billy!" she calls out, he makes his way toward her, but after he turns and gets one last look at you.

an: thank you for requesting! I already talked about this, but I'll reiterate it again...because billys character would 100% break it to Ciara that he doesn't love her, but because he took something irreplaceable from her and she loves him he just feels too guilty. and he's also a mess around y/n because he knows it's awful to feel the way he feels about you, but he can't help it. SO, that's why he might seem a little ooc!! <333 ilysm! <333

[sunnylands-world]

Red possession

Pairing: draco malfoy x female reader

Summary: your cycle is ending and that means you're feeling needy and distracted. Who better to fix it than your boyfriend…

Word count:1’889

Warning: fingering,mean draco [not really it's more degrading], choking, period sex [it's the last day], p in v, soft draco, possessive draco and reader, let me know if I missed anything

Universe: Harry Potter

A/n: "guess who's back, back again, Sunny's back tell a friend" 🎤 😂💓 no but seriously hopefully this one makes you guys love my writing again since people had requested something like this awhile ago 🙏🥺

You read the warnings if you continue to read. I'm not to be held responsible.

Comments, reblogs, and inboxes are appreciated and motivational

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘)

Being a girl was something you hated...

There were probably countless reasons, such as childbirth, but the most annoying aspect of it was the constant bleeding. Every. Fucking. Month.

It was pretty much the end of your cycle now though, and Draco had been spoiling you rotten. You had enough chocolate right now to give away to a village of children and that's not an exaggeration, you had bars stacked in a fridge he also bought for this occasion. He even got a personal chef! When you were on your cycle, you had moments where food wasn't a thought. Then you'd eat a little, and soon you'd eat more, but even then, you felt like one more plate wouldn't hurt.

Draco had you in his room today. Draco is currently beside you, shirtless and wearing black boxers. He was reading a book to you, but every word he said was like whispers in a forest because you were distracted.

"Why does it seem like I want to devour him? Has he always been so attractive? Am I getting closer to him?"

"Are you alright [name]?" Draco announced.

"Yeah, yeah of course. Why wouldn't I be? " You laughed and Draco let out one as well but he sounded nervous.

"Because you're squeezing my arm like you're terrified, surely my reading isn't that bad," he said, looking at the grip you had on his arm.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just... well, I'm distracted," You muttered, letting go of his arm, feeling a little guilty for it.

“By what, darling?” He inquired, putting the book down and turning his focus on you.

"You," you whispered, and you could see him smirk.

"I'm sorry, what did you say? I didn't catch that,” he teased and you shook your head, you always knew your boyfriend was cocky.

"I said you're distracting me," you repeated, playfully. You looked into his blue eyes, which were like a storm above the ocean, and they were darkening.

His gaze was intense as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Why is he looking at me like that?"

"I think I could fix that," he announces first before he gets up and heads to his bathroom, leaving you confused.

When he comes back with a towel, you realize what he has in mind.

"Wait, just let me use the bathroom first," you say quickly, heading into the bathroom. You pray quietly because you're just spotting. You open the bag you brought to Draco's, grab the wipes, and do your business before washing your hands. Draco's eyes meet yours once you open the door.

“Come here,” he states, and you walk over hesitantly.

Upon reaching him, his hands gently grip your waist and the pads of his thumbs rub circles on your back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, as he stands over you.

Your cheeks turn crimson, and you say "Thank you."

He cradles your face, kisses you softly, and you become engulfed in him, kissing him back while your hands wander to his waist.

The desire for more causes your heart to race and you whimper against his lips.

"I've got it, baby," he assures you as his hand slides under your shirt, causing your breathing to slow, and you feel the familiar touch of the silver ring he wears. His hand slides up higher along your soft curves and you feel the sense of possession in his touch as he delicately squeezes you.

The kiss grows stronger, his tongue slips past your lips and yours moves with his in a passionate tango that makes you moan softly.

Your own hands find themselves on his back as you feel the familiar desire spreading like wildfire in your belly. You're unsure whether he's teasing you or taking his time, but you want more and you want it now.

“Please,” you beg and he chuckles.

"So needy," he says teasingly before pulling your shirt off.

“I fucking love it” he grunts looking at your breast with starvation and he pushes you back, not enough to injure you, but enough to catch you off guard and make you gasp falling on his mattress. Draco's gaze softens as the breeze from the room hits your skin.

Are you feeling cold, my love? He asks, tucking your hair back before stroking your cheek.

"Just a bit," you say, and he smiles.

“Under the covers” he states.

You do as asked, and he does the same, moving underneath them with you before he's back on your lips. Because you're so turned on because of hormones, you grind against his hips between your thighs and he's trapped by your legs around his waist.

He groans, his lips moving along your jaw only making it worse with his soft kisses on your heated skin. You moan softly, faced with a high.

You tug at his platinum hair and take into detail how soft it is. How his body is pressed against yours, brushing your nipples as he moves to kiss your neck. His tongue darts out and licks your skin, prompting you to tighten your grip on his hair.

“You're so responsive, so sexy” he whispers before he sucks and licks a bruise onto your neck. He grinds his hard length into your panties, brushing your clit and making you wetter. Your whimpers and moans like music to his ears that he could play on a loop.

He growls as he releases your neck and kisses your collarbone once before disappearing under the covers. He holds you down, branding your waist, with the pressure of his ring as he kisses and nips at your breast.

He whispers "fuck" as he sucks on your nipples. You writhe, eager for him, feeling his tongue flicker and his teeth nipping at your breast until he stops.

He lowers himself, resulting in the blanket following him as he pulls your panties off, tossing them to the side so he can look at you while his fingers glide through your slick folds before he slowly pushes them into your entry.

"So wet and warm," he groans, pumping his fingers in and out, watching you moan softly with a dark hunger gaze. You wither and buck your hips as he picks up the pace curling his fingers just right to hit the spot inside you to have you weak in the knees like you're never gonna walk again, and he doesn't stop, he just goes harder and deeper as you arch your back moaning loudly.

When he hears the wet noises from your pussy as it latches onto his digits, begging to release, he removes them and makes you whine, almost teary-eyed.

“Shut up,” he growls and you bite your lip.

He knows you so well...

He observes and shakes his head.

"God, I'm in love with you," He groans when he takes his boxers off, and your eyes glow with excitement as his cock, slaps against his abdomen, just as happy to see you.

Had you not been so desperate to have him inside you, you would have sucked it like there is no tomorrow.

"It's alright, baby. You'll be home soon."

Draco crawls back between your legs and rubs his tip repeatedly through your wet lips and you swear he whimpers before plunging into your velvety walls, making you moan softly as he seat's himself inside you.

He won't admit it, but he's just as needy for you. He couldn't tell you how many times he's been hard without relief because nothing satisfies him like his girl.

Fuckkk, that's good,” he moans, his head falling back as he shudders.

Your cheeks are heated as he leans forward, resting his hands on either side of your face.

Holding your gaze, he begins to gently and slowly thrust forward, causing your lips to part in a silent cry. Your breath practically stops as he glides so easily inside you, as though you were made just for him, fooling your senses and riddling you blank with every teasing thrust. As he leans forward, making you shiver, his warm breath ghosts over your skin.

“That's it darling, let me in,” he whispers, his accent clear as day.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hear the creaking of the bed as he picks up the pace, making you moan a little louder and grip the sheets.

He's playing with your pussy, whispering the right things, and kissing the right spots to make you relax and become comfortable, all in order for him to go faster, harder, and deeper.

"Draco, please," you beg as your eyes start to roll.

He growls, "Look at me when you ask for something."

As you meet his eyes, you moan, "Harder."

He knows exactly what you want, so there's no need to ask twice.

As he smirks, he sits up, and those blue eyes lock on yours. He wraps his hand around your neck, pressing lightly, and slamming into you, while you choke on air and pathetically moan and mewl.

As the headboard hits the wall, whoever is on the other side is forced to listen to your pornographic sex while he thrusts into you like his pleasure is more important than your own.

He watches as your legs begin to shake and your body becomes possessed with pleasure. You know that leaving his room will cause you to feel embarrassed.

He allows you to breathe better by releasing your neck, as he fucks you without mercy, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mine,” he growls.

His eyes say it all, his forceful pace says it, you're his girl and this is his pussy.

His cock slams into your pussy faster than it can throb or pulse and you almost beg him to slow down, but this how you like it, hard and possessive. When you can feel your walls begging him to stay inside you as you try to clench and his thrust are so hard and deep you know he needs you too.

He pants, and groans, his own body nearly shaking.

"You feel so good," said in unison, in thought..

You'll always be his, even if you try to escape nobody will fuck you like this, so if you try to find someone else you'll be left unsatisfied.

As you near the edge, he kisses you, tongue and all making you moan softly as you tug his hair.

You can't tell who wants who more with the way you're both making out, and thrust so powerful that somehow your poor little cunt still weeps for more until you can't take it. He finds your hands interlacing your fingers grounding you.

“Be a good girl and cum for me” he whispers, and as you cum lost in bliss and overwhelming pleasure he follows, moaning that he loves you.

He collapses against you, breathing heavily and you wrap your weak legs around him, stroking his hair, affectionately because he's vulnerable like this.

He hums softly in response as you feel your sweaty, sticky skin against his and you inhale your passion in the air while you catch your breath.

“Still distracted?” he says, finally looking at you, you shake your head with a lazy smile.

“Wanna take a bath?” he asks softly

“If I can walk,” you say sarcastically and he chuckles.

You don't have to walk, because he'll carry you, you're his…

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠) (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

©Sunnylands-world this belongs to me therefore you don't have the right to do anything with my work or ideas without permission.

Nice thought, reblogs, and inboxing is appreciated and motivational ❤

[my1oves]

PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU, CAN YOU DO CHILCHUCK HEADCANONS INSPIRED BY THE SONG "too sweet"?????? 😭PLEASKEJD

Jokes aside, I saw your post on this same topic and I need it, like, really bad

The funny thing is that I had already thought about how much this song suited Chilchuck before, like, bros gonna suffer as soon he falls in love with someone sweet and young, remembering how it went love for him before, and how now he's so sour and... So him...

I can perfectly imagine him having so many internal struggles because, she is so cute and innocent (plus if she's also blonde), so youngful.... But he stops himself so much because he doesn't want to corrupt her.

But a part of him wants to wait until they've matured more... But he feels that's wrong too, Even so, it's almost impossible to hold back on how bad he wants and loves her (Is suprising how he has retained himself for sheer will)

I can also imagine him being mortified because... Come on, he've probably had a lot of dirty thoughts about her even before being "something"

too sweet

꒰ includes ꒱ ⸻ chilchuck tims.

꒰ warnings ꒱ ⸻ gn! reader, angst & smut (handjob), inspired by 'too sweet' by hozier.

꒰ mimi's note ꒱ ⸻ great minds think alike- the song fits chilchuck well! i hope that i did the idea justice! thank you for the request!

chilchuck can't help but feel a little guilty whenever you take care of him after a job well done

one can usually find him in a tavern, chasing after the end of a bottle- and by the time he's two or three bottles in, that's when you appear

ready to help him back home, take care of him so gently, scold him for not taking care of himself

he really doesn't know why you stay with him, you two are complete opposites but...

"You know, you don't gotta help him every time," The barmaid said, shaking her head. "Just leave him out on the sidewalk, he'll learn his lesson then." You wave your hand dismissively, helping Chilchuck off of a stool. He leans against you, slurring murmurs of the barmaid to mind her own business.

"I don't mind," You say, earnestly. Chilchuck glances up at you, a fuzzy feeling in his stomach. The barmaid tsks and shakes her head, but doesn't say anything else as you help Chilchuck out the door and to his home. "Did the job go well, then?" You ask, and Chilchuck gives you a prideful grin.

"Of course! They had me, after all." You roll your eyes, laughing quietly at his pride. When you reach his home, you watch in amusement as he tries to pick his own lock, before taking the keys you took off of him earlier and opening the door. "Wow, yer a natural." He scratches his head in genuine shock.

"I learned it from the best," You tease, guiding him through the door. You help him take off his shoes before leading him to the kitchen table. He watches from there as you fill up a glass of water and rummage through is medicine cabinet.

He gives a very sudden solemn sigh. "You deserve better." You throw him a concerned glance over your shoulder. What prompted him to say that? You walk back carefully with glass and medicine in tow.

"Don't I get a say in it?"

"I'm rotten work." He takes the medicine and glass and gulps it all down in one go. "I'll ruin you- you really don't deserve that." He stands up with a slight wobble.

"Chil..." You hesitantly reach out for him, but he shoots you a look that renders you unmoving.

"It's best if ya leave now, let's not risk heartbreak for either of us, yeah?" With that, he stumbles himself to his room, almost tripping over the junk he has lying around his home.

Chilchuck is honestly always so surprised whenever you stay around, especially when he says things he knows probably hurt you.

It only further hurts his guilty conscious- you're too sweet, too pristine. Your vigor for life contrasts his so much he nearly gets whiplash when being near you

He wishes you weren't so... full of life, perhaps then he wouldn't feel bad for imagining being with you, but he'll only corrupt you with his cynicism.

Sometimes he'll ask, if you've ever considered living a lifestyle like his, but he usually backpedals quickly after

"You've never even thought of stayin' up past midnight?" He barks a laugh, and you try hard to hide your embarrassment. You mutter that you have, once, stayed up past midnight but you got super cranky. Chilchuck took a minute to try and imagine that, laughing at how ridiculous the image was.

"Whatever," You pout, and Chilchuck coos.

"Aw, don't be a baby." He teases, pinching your warm cheeks. "I'll help you become bitter and cranky." You turn to look at him, "I'll teach you the ins-and-outs of being a good-for-nothin'-" he cuts himself out very suddenly. "Nevermind."

"Aw boo, I was excited to learn all about it." Chilchuck shakes his head, flicking you in the forehead. "Ow!"

"Don't say that. Keep bein' good, 'kay?" A heavy silence fills the air now, and Chilchuck avoids your gaze. He thinks about it, hard. What if he did teach you how to be like him? Staying up drinking all night, not waking until well past noon, using sarcasm and snark like it's your first language.

If you were more like that, then perhaps he wouldn't mind indulging in his thoughts of being with you. There wouldn't be parts of him that he'd fear for you to see, parts of him that he keeps carefully wrapped up so you don't run away. He clears his throat, straightening his posture. "Well, should probably get goin', right?"

Yeah, it's best not to dwell on such thoughts for long.

though those thoughts are the worst... (NSFW BELOW, mdni)

no, to chilchuck, he feels most guilty about the sinful thoughts he gets when it's late at night, and he needs something to help keep him up

you always fill his mind, the idea of taking your innocent nature and molding it to fit him is addicting

but it's always something he'll wake up regretting the next day

and it's hard for him to look you in the eyes for the next few days- yet he always continues to do it again and again.

Like a shadow, you form appears in the corner of his mind. Biting back grunts of pleasure as he jerks himself off, he can only chuckle at the thought of you walking in on him doing such an indecent act.

"C- Chilchuck!" You'd gasp, face hot as you cover your eyes. "I- I'm sorry! I didn't mean to walk in- I- well- You-" You'd nearly run into the wall trying to get out with your eyes closed, but Chilchuck would just stare hungrily at your form.

"You can look," He'd breath, and you would peak from behind your fingers to watch as his flushed face broke out into a grin. His hand moving up and down his slick cock, strangled moans caught in his throat.

Apprehensively, you take a step forward, in awe. "You wanna help me out?" Chilchuck can imagine the eager nod so clearly. "Always so helpful~"

He would guide you, teach you how to please him. He'd use you so selfishly. "Like this, 'kay?" Biting your lip, you'd try your hardest to keep up, to do well, to please him. His head nearly hitting the wall. It's everything he wanted and more, your soft hands around his cock, giving languid pumps.

Chilchuck's hips would meet your hands, stuttering upwards with need. Biting into his fist to try and hold back his whiney sounds, you would take a surprising course of action, leaning forward to press your lips against his with need, rubbing your thighs together.

Sloppy, wet sounds echo off the walls of the room, and Chilchuck only pulls away to see the dazed expression. Fuck, it's too much. He wants more, he wants you.

But even in his daydreams, he has limits. He won't fuck you just yet, he'll teach you, slowly, all things you need to know.

"Shit!" He cums with a string of curses, the thought of finally fucking you into his mattress after prepping you for weeks (teaching you things like how to suck him off, how to give a proper handjob, etc. and him going down on you, touching you, etc.- all little fantasies of his, of course, he can barely hold your hand to guide you through the marketplace in real life) helping get him off.

And now Chilchuck lays there, panting and covered in his own cum. "Damn it," He curses, running his other hand through his hair and groaning loudly. More curses leave his lips as he knows he won't be able to meet your eyes later that day. He wishes he could stop craving you, stop imagining you in his moments of need, yet he never feels as good as he does when it comes to thinking of you.

In the end, Chilchuck is a weak man- he's never claimed to be otherwise

he'll either give in to his desires, allowing you to care for him even though he knows in the end he'll only hurt you- yet another ruined relationship under his belt

or he'll run away in hopes of forgetting you, drinking away his sorrows as he knows he'll never see you again- it's probably better this way, he'll try to convince himself. you were too sweet for him.

꒰ ❀ ꒱ thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

[deartrent]

a valentine's exchange — taa

summary: when valentine's day comes to an end, it's your turn to give trent your own kind of treat

warnings: contains smut (18+, mdni)

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

notes: this was kind of rushed and a day too late sorry!

"thank you for today," you'd just come back from the most dreamy valentine dinner date, something you didn't even know trent was capable of coming up with, let alone organise.

"anything for you baby," you both crashed on the bed, one of trent's arms around you as you cuddled into his side. he looked extra fine today, you couldn't tell if it was the all black fit he'd picked for today, your favourite cologne dripping off of him or the fact he'd dedicated the entire day to spoiling and treating you. you couldn't have imagined a better first valentine's day with trent.

he insisted that valentine's day was all about you and as you'd been dating for a little under a year, you quickly realised his love language was gift giving, taking any opportunity to spoil you rotten, just to show you how much he loved you.

you still felt guilty though, not having any surprises in store for him, on a day that is all about showing love. just once you wished you could pay him back, but you also knew you had nowhere near the capacity to ever gift him the way he gifts you.

you had to get creative and while trent was getting ready for bed—or so he thought—you changed out of your dress and slipped into a black lingerie set you kept for special nights like these. trent didn't ask, but you knew from the looks, the kisses and the subtle touching that he wanted more, and you were going to give him just that.

trent walked out of the bathroom, unaware of your plans as he turned off the bathroom lights and looked up to see you standing in front of your shared bed, your hands on your waist. a smile formed on trent's lips at the sight of you, slowly walking your way as he took in your frame, "what's happening here?" trent towered over you, a smirk on his face. you smiled back at him proudly, looking at him through your lashes, "it's my turn to spoil you," you lifted your shoulders, placing your hands on his waist as you held onto his shirt.

trent simply watched, anticipating your next move. you had no idea what you were doing, you just knew you had to blow his mind to reward him for giving you a valentine's day you could have only dreamed of. you slowly lifted his shirt over his head, trent assisting you, "i loved your outfit, but i love this more," your warm hands traced over trent's abs, all the way down, as you lowered yourself until you were eye level with his growing bulge. trent stood confidently, chewing on his bottom lip, growing impatient from your teasing.

you struggled to pull trent's sweatpants down, freeing his cock from the tight space in his boxers. you stifled a laugh, excited about pleasuring the man in front of you, whose eyes turned dark with lust. his cock twitched in front of you, as though it was screaming to be touched. you rose from a crouch onto your knees, one of your hands wrapping around the base of his shaft, as you spat onto his tip, your hand moving up to spread the natural lubricant over his tip, trent groaning at the sensitivity.

you loved teasing trent, seeing him in distress and eager to feel your touch gave you a sense of power and dominance you craved every once in a while.

your tongue circled around trent's tip, leaving kisses every now and then to get him as riled up as possible. trent struggled to keep his eyes open, his lips parted as soft moans and groans escaped, occasional curses leaving his throat. you knew it wasn't going to be long until he would take over, his naturally dominant nature surfacing. you didn't mind though, you loved trent being in control, but for now, you just wanted to see how far you could really push him.

with a soft grip around his base, you repeatedly tapped his cock against your tongue, holding eye contact as you watched him get weak under your touch. one of his hands moved to the back of your head, while his other hand held his shaft. you knew he had hit his limit when he slowly pushed himself into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his cock as you tried to take as much of him in as you could. your muffled coughs were trent's sign to pull back, your eyes shimmering with tears, a silent response to the tightness gripping your throat.

you took over from trent once again, your hands holding onto the back of trent's thighs as you moved your head at a quicker pace, attempting to take all of trent with each suck. the wet sounds of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth echoed through the room, mixed with trent's grunts. you quickened your pace, feeling trent's legs tense up. the precum leaking from his tip gave away that he was close to release.

you took a minute to catch your breath, wiping away the hair stuck to your tear-stained cheeks, while trent started jerking off, planning to release his cum all over your pretty face, "fuck," he cursed, his breath coming out in deep pants, his head tipping back a little, before focusing on you once again, "open your mouth for me," you silently obeyed, your hands still on trent's thighs as you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue to catch every drop spilled from the head of his cock.

his strokes became faster but irregular, his groans becoming louder as his cum spewed out, marking your face and chest. coming down from his climax, the lust in trent's eyes didn't disappear as he helped you up, before turning you around, your back facing him. pushing you onto the bed, he got rid of your lingerie, the panties made of silk drenched with your wetness. you felt trent's hand on your back, pushing you further down as you arched for him, exposing to him what he'd been waiting for, "good fucking girl," trent mumbled just loud enough for you to hear, his hands brushing over the skin of your bum.

the tip of his cock grazed against your slit, your clit swollen and throbbing at the slightest contact. placing both hands on your hips, trent inserted himself into you, making sure to bury all of him inside, and keeping it there as you sunk your nails into the bedsheets, your eyes closing, your walls tightening around him. the force and pace of his thrusts increased and so did the volume of your moans, throwing around curse words as you cried out his name, not knowing whether you begged for mercy or begged for more.

"keep going," you were breathless, the pleasure almost too much as trent's hands held your waist, pulling you in with every thrust, his hips clapping against your bum with every pump, neither of you caring about how loud you were being, "fuck, oh my god-" you cried out, the climax building up inside of you almost unbearable to hold as your eyes rolled back into your head, "i'm gonna- fuck" you continued, your moans sounding like melodies in trent's ears, who started losing his pace as he reached his own climax. the final thrust threw you forward and if it wasn't for trent's grip, holding you in place, you would've fallen onto the bed.

trent plunged his cock in and out a few times, his cum leaking out of your pussy as he dragged himself out slowly, "fucking hell," trent collapsed next to you on the bed, his arm held out for you to join him, "that was fucking hot," he chuckled, as you cuddled into his side once again, your favourite place to be, "that was some going cross-eyed type of sex," you joked, sharing a laugh with the love of your life.

"you know that was my way of thanking you for today," you added, your hand resting on trent's tummy as you both stared at the ceiling. you heard trent snort, "remember the previous dates i took you? i think you forgot to thank me for those," you rolled your eyes, slapping his chest, before pushing yourself up, "you're not getting more out of me today, i'm exhausted." you tore yourself away from trent's warm body as you walked towards the bathroom to get cleaned up. trent intertwined his fingers behind his head, watching your naked figure disappear into the bathroom, a satisfied smile on his face, a content warmth settling in, his mind clouded with you.

and only you.

[sukunastoy]

•Infertile• (Sukuna x fem!reader MDNI)

Something super short and random I thought of while waiting late into the night for the JJK leaks. -as of now, still not ready yet, sob-

w.c. ~1.3k

a.n./t.w.: little to no plot, infidelity/lying, (reader is cheating on husband with sukuna) fingering, oral sex (m. giving) vaginal penetration, protected and unprotected sex, forced breeding, mentions of infertility, Sukuna is being deceiving but reader later likes it.

Just have a bit of rotten filth. Rest below the cut.

“Don’t worry, I’m putting a condom on.”

Sukuna assured through that twisted grin of his. If you didn’t witness him doing it, you wouldn’t believe him.

“It’s a good brand? Doesn’t break??” You whined in concern, now biting onto your lip.

“What do you take me for?” He snorted while throwing your legs back, your knees now next to your head on the bed as he spread you open for him.

“I-it just can’t break, I’m serious!” You panted while he dropped his mouth to your cunt, feasting on your fluids and taste as if it would cure him of some disease.

His firm grip held your squirming legs in place as he hungrily ate you out, not letting any part of your pussy go unlicked.

“If m-my husband finds out!” Your hand grabbed onto his hair, pulling his head into you more.

His mouth moved to your clit, lapping long stripes over it, causing a shock of vibration to pass through you repeatedly.

His long fingers entered your already sopping hole, and you bit back a moan of excitement.

“Your husband is obviously too stupid. He really thinks you’re still at the store? Are you so dumb to think he might find out?” Sukunas voice cascaded over you with insult as always. He could be so fucking mean and condescending.

But the way he could fuck sent you to cloud nine. His cock outmatched your husbands in every way, and no matter how guilty you felt, his cock just felt better.

Up until now, you’d been making him pull out long before he even started to grow close to cumming, but he was becoming irritated at this. Unloading down your throat or all over your tits and face was nice, but only for so long.

You weren’t on any form of birth control though, since you and were husband were trying for a baby, and you didn’t want Sukuna being the one to pump you full of cum.

His fingers in your pussy coaxed you close to an orgasm and your back arched up from the bed in anticipation.

Just as your greedy walls started to clamp around his fingers, he pulled them out and quickly replaced the loss of contact with his dick. It made you howl out like a bitch in heat. The way his cock sank all the way into your cavern…it was heavenly.

He shifted onto the bed, climbing more over you while staying buried balls deep into your cunt. Your feet stretched and toes spread apart as he held onto your calves, keeping them pinned into the blankets as he began hammering into you.

Your stomach tightened from the unrelenting pressure caused by his fat cock fucking you in such a ravenous way.

It didn’t take long for you to come all over his dick, moaning and crying out his name while he pounded into your spasming cunt. His thick balls slapped into your asshole with each thrust, pushing you over the sensitivity ledge.

But once you felt you balls tighten, and his cock throb while deep in you, panic set it.

“D-don’t cum in me! Pull out, p-pull out!”

He growled at your whining, shoving a pillow over your face to shut you up.

His hips faltered and he groaned in pleasure, cumming into the feeling of your wet warmth. “Goddamn..!” He breathed out, slamming his hips into yours a few more times before finally pulling out.

You threw the pillow from your face, looking at him with anger and disbelief. “Sukuna!!”

“What?” He barked in annoyance, gesturing down to his dick that was still perfectly wrapped in protection.

“I didn’t cum in you, that’s what the condom is for.”

“Still, it could have broke or something…this is like the perfect baby making pose that I’m in.” You groaned, leaning your head back to consider this was a bad idea. Sukuna was getting more and more needy for your pussy, and you started to worry if this was going to end up badly at some point. Accidents are called such for a reason!

“Cant believe you want a child from such a pathetic excuse for a man.” He rolled his eyes, slowly removing the condom.

“Don’t be like that. He’s a nice guy!”

“Who has a tiny dick and is a cuck.”

You scoffed while starting to move out of this position but feeling Sukunas fingers dip into your pussy again so suddenly made you limp. Everything was so puffy and sensitive, it was almost too much.

“Sukuna..!” You whimpered, feeling two then three of his fingers enter you. Then something odd entered you, taking you off guard. Glancing up quickly, your eyes widened in complete panic at the sight.

The open end of the condom was stuffed inside of your hole, and Sukuna was squeezing his cum out of it to go into you.

As you immediately went to throw your hips to the side, trying to move from him, he pinned you back into place, your knees next to your head into the bed.

“Sukuna!! What the fuck!?” You nearly screamed out, almost feeling like you could cry. You tried to contract and shove his cum back out, but as soon as you saw a bit of it leak out onto your clit, Sukuna gathered it with his finger and shoved it back inside of you.

“You’re a bastard!” You yelled, trying to thrash away but his grip was insanely strong, and you knew you weren’t getting out of it. He merely chuckled at your pathetic attempts to get away, and he lined himself back up with you again.

“Calm down sweetheart.” He cooed while sliding his cock back into your now cum covered walls. “I didn’t actually cum into you, just like you asked.”

He gripped onto your hips, giving you long and slow thrusts to push his cum deeper inside and you lolled your head back at the dense pleasure already twisting through your core again.

“But I couldn’t let this pussy go without a real man’s cum. Birth the child of a man that knows how to fuck you like a whore, despite you not being one.

Cant have such a perfect womb hold the pathetic genes from your cuck husband, can we?”

His words should have been revolting, and you should have felt like you were raped, but this twisted feeling of pleasure took place instead. The thought of carrying Sukunas child over your husbands became an exhilarating one.

Realizing that Sukuna just used your body to breed had you coming on his fat cock again.

———————

Sitting on the couch next to your husband, you hummed happily while holding an arm under your baby bump, and settling your other hand atop of it. Your husband held your other child in his lap, reading over some mail and you internally sighed in peace, knowing he wasn’t the father of these children. He was a nice guy…but, you got embarrassed at the thought of birthing his kids. He just seemed so, pathetic almost when it came to the gene pool. The father of your kids was the man of your dreams and fantasies. You didn’t want to break your husbands heart though…So, you remained as his wife.

But, you kept letting Sukuna unload himself into you whenever he wanted now. And it was fucking amazing.

As you were lost in thought, your husbands brows pinched together as he read over the letter from his doctor. The two of you had been trying for a baby for a while, but suddenly you got pregnant and then less than a year later you got pregnant again? He went to a reproductive specialist and got tested, wondering if there was a way to see how long this good boost of fertility would last.

However, his eyes could only focus on a single word at the very bottom of the letter.

“Infertile.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

Can I ask somthing? You can totally ignore this if you're not comfortable!! Can you write somthing like reader has been SA'ed before and az or cass or Rhys(your choice who) doesn't know this and tries to take things to 3rd base but reader gets really uncomfortable and tells them what she's been through so the bat boy comforts her saying he'll wait however long he has to for her, holding her and then goes all angry psycho on the person who SA'ed her.

(I was SA'ed a few years ago and the 'date' is coming closer that's why I just need somthing to keep my mind distracted. Plzzzz ignore this if you aren't comfortable with it!! I totally understand!)

Finally Safe

Summary: Reader is the youngest of the Vanserra's, but like Lucien, is the daughter of Helion. She has a pretty dark past that she doesn't even want to think about, and so, no one other than she herself knows about it.

When her mate tries to take things further in their relationship, everything she has kept inside herself comes spilling out.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: Hi my love! I am soo glad that you sent this ask, it makes me so happy (this one is the first fic request I've received! I also feel extremely honored that you chose me for writing such a sensitive topic).

Also, I'm soo sorry that you had to go through that! I've never had any experience with SA or anyone who went through it, so I'm not sure if I can write something that really captures the depth of the situation, but I did listen to a few SA stories and podcasts ('Rotten Mango' podcasts, if any of you wanted to know) and I'll try my best with this.

Also, I've had this story idea for like a year now since I finished reading acosf, so I'm going with Azriel for this one.

Aaand I tried to make it as long as possible, hope it what you wanted to read.

Hope you like it! Enjoy!

Tw: mentions of SA, not graphic torture scene under '•○●⛦●○•', none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Everywher her eyes went, there was darkness.

All she could hear, laughter, grunts and disgusting words spewed from equally disgusting mouths.

All she could smell was sweat, her own tears, and things she didn't want to think about.

All she could feel was the nauseating touches of a male she didn't know and the cool ground under her back.

All she could taste was the bile climbing up her throat.

She just wanted it to be over. She just wanted them to leave so she could curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep.

Why?

She kept asking herself.

Why me?

She would probably never get the answer to it. And even if she did, she'd never understand how someone could do something as horrible as this.

Then she started screaming. As she always did.

•○🌑○•

Y/n jerked up, her chest heaving. She sat up, scooting back towards the headboard and pressing herself against it, tugging the blankets to cover herself as her eyes frantically searched around for any sign of movement in her chambers.

Of course, there was no one, but the fear never went away. Probably never would.

Long moments went by as she tried to calm herself, telling herself that she was safe. That she wasn't in that dungeon anymore. That she was far from it, she was in Day Court.

Her actual father's domain, apparently.

Soon after Amarantha had trapped everyone Under the Mountain, her mother had broken the news to her. That she wasn't Beron's daughter, but Helion's. And then, secretly, over the decades, Helion and Y/n had started to spend more time together. Her father was guilty that he hadn't been there for her when she was a kid, and so the two of them tried to make up for the time they had lost.

Y/n shook her head, laying down again and deciding to atleast try to get some sleep. There was going to be an important meeting in a few hours, and all the High Lords were going to arrive for the meeting. For planning the course of the war against Hybern.

She needed all the sleep she could get as it would be very stressful and she was supposed to be present as her father's Second in Command.

Still, she could not sleep. Knowing she would not be able to sleep anytime soon, she finally stood and made her way to the washing chamber when the watery rays of sunlight filtered in through the window.

She scrubbed herself raw in scalding hot water in hopes of washing away all the phantom stickiness she still felt on her body. After that, she got dressed in a white and golden flowy gown, the colours of Day.

Being the second of command of Helion wasn't the only reason she wrote this colours.

It would also be making a statement. That she had chosen Day Court over Autumn Court.

Beron knew she wasn't his daughter. He also thought that she was picked up from a dumpster. That's what Lady of Autumn had told him.

When she was pregnant with Y/n, she had stayed away from Beron for months, and when she returned, she returned with a newborn, saying she found the baby on the side of a road near a dumping ground. Beron didn't care as long as he was not concerned in the child's upbringing.

After Feyre had ended Amarantha's reign, Y/n had left the Autumn Court, making the excuse that she wanted to settle somewhere else.

And that's how she had ended up in Day. She had tried her best to convince Helion not to do this, as it could put relations between the two courts in jeopardy, especially as Beron would see it as a sign of betrayal. But he didn't care.

Y/n just prayed to the cauldron that the meeting would go without anyone dying.

•○🌑○•

She stepped into the airy meeting area, her dress fluttering around her feet.

The guards outside had informed her that the High Lords from Dawn and Summer Court had arrived quite some time ago, and Night Court had just come just moments before she did.

All eyes went to her, and all the Lords' eyes lit with recognition. She just gave a then a polite smile, before grinning at Rhys, who grinned back and pulled her into a hug.

"She was a friend Under the Mountain." He told his Inner Circle, pulling back from her. She nodded at the members that were present before her eyes landed on an Illyrian standing near a doorway, his eyes alert and on the High Lords.

As if sensing her gaze, he glanced at her. And when he did, everything in the world stopped. At least for Y/n.

Snap.

Her body locked up, her eyes widening. She stared and stared at him. She vaguely heard her name being called, but she couldn't process it.

"Y/n?" Her father touched her arm and she jerked back, gasping. She looked up at him, her eyes frantic. He had a confused smile on his face. She took a deep breath, pulling an indifferent mask on.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You look alarmed." She swallowed, glancing at the winged male to see if he had felt it too. By the confusion lacing his featured, he hadn't. She tried not to let her disapointment show.

"Yes. I'm fine."

Her father nodded, unconvinced as he gave her a look that said we'll talk about this.

Then she felt a tap on her mental shields. She opened a pathway and let Rhys in.

What is it? He questioned.

She thought for a moment before answering. Mate.

His eyes lit up and he smiled. That's amazing.

She nodded and walked to her seat, plopping down on it.

As everyone waited for others to arrive, Y/n couldn't help but keep glancing at the male.

Beautiful. He was beautiful.

As the meeting progressed, she kept chiming in with her suggesting but not really paying attention, completely avoiding looking at Beron. She also learned that the male's –her mate's– name was Azriel. She knew she had heard the name before, but couldn't place where.

But she would, soon enough.

•○🌑○•

"My dear, what happened back there?" Helion asked as soon as he and his daughter were alone.

She turned to him helplessly. "He–he was–is, my mate."

His brows furrowed. "Azriel?" When she nodded, a smile as bright as the Court he ruled over spread across his face. "You found your mate! You must tell him! Oh Mother, I'll hold a ball in your honor. I–"

"Dad. Who is he?" She would've called him father if not for his very pouty request that she call him dad. Father sounded too formal, according to him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. How could I forget! He's the Spymaster of the Night Court."

Her jaw dropped. "The feared Spymaster of Night Court?" He nodded happily. "Then should we not be scared? Doesn't he have... quite the reputation?"

"That he does, but from what I've gleaned from my centuries, he's a sweetheart with people he cares about. Atleast, that's what Rhysand has been telling me. If he's lying, I'll be very sad."

Y/n couldn't believe it. One of the most feared male in all of Prythian was her mate. Her gods darned mate.

She didn't know how she would tell him, considering she had never had an interaction with him. Still, she'll have to figure it out.

Because, feared or not, he deserved to know.

•○🌑○•

After the war.

She had realised that any one of them could die at any moment after the war, and then she'll feel guilt for not telling her mate about the bond. And so, she wanted to get to know him first. She had no idea how she'd do that, but her father did.

The war was over, but that didn't mean that everything was fine. And so, under the excuse of strengthening ties with the Night Court, her father had sent Y/n to help in Velaris. Of course, when she had called his bluff, he had acted innocent and declared he didn't know what she was talking about.

So now, it had been a week off her staying in Velaris, and she hadn't had any sort of conversation with Azriel except for a few polite smiles here and there.

She was in a room right next to Azriel, which Rhys claimed had nothing to do with their bond.

She huffed and turned onto her side, trying to fall asleep.

That was when she felt a panicked tug on the bond. She practically flew out of her bed and into Azriel's room to find him writhing on the bed. It was pitch dark, his shadows frantic.

She quickly made her way towards the bed, realising he was having a nightmare. She gently placed her hand on his bare shoulder, tying to wake him up because she didn't know what else to do.

She shook him slowly so as not to startle him, but when he didn't wake up, she put a little more force into it.

Which was, she realised a little too late, was the wrong thing to do.

One second, she was kneeling on his bed trying to wake him up. The next, she was pinned on the mattress, Azriel snarling in her face, one of his hands wrapped around her throat, the other clutching her hands above her head. But that wasn't what caused her breathing to grow shallow or her instincts to scream at her to flee.

No. It was the fact that she was helpless as she was pressed into the mattress.

Dark dungeons.

Beron's Second in Command sneering at her.

Her screams.

She couldn't breathe she couldn't breathe she—

Suddenly, the weight was lifted from her body, her hands free and the grip around her throat vanishing. She gasped, scrambling to sit up and scoot away from Azriel, who was kneeling in front of her with a horrified expression.

"I– I'm so sorry. I didn't mean–"

Y/n shook her head, trying to find her voice. "It's okay." She rasped.

"Did I hurt you?" She shook her head. He seemed to think for a moment. "Did I scream?" When she shook her head again, his eyes narrowed. "Then how did you know I was having a nightmare?"

She paled. "I just thought you– I didn't..." She knew lying to him would be futile, he was a damned Spymaster for a reason. So she swallowed and told him the truth. "I felt it."

She did not meet his eyes, though he stared at her. "How?"

She stayed silent. A few moments passed before she sighed and tugged on the bond. Gently at first. When he gave no reaction, she tugged harder.

He gasped, leaning forward and clutching his chest, staring at her with wide eyes. It felt like eternity had passed before he finally spoke.

"How–how long have you known?"

She looked at him as she cleared her throat. "Since the High Lords' meeting. Before the war."

"That's why you kept staring at me. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted to get to know you first. I was scared."

He seemed to have regained his composure as he nodded. He stayed quiet for a moment. "Do you– do you want the bond? It's okay if you don't want it. Want me. I know my reputation isn't... the best."

"I want this Azriel. I just want to get to know you more before we accept the bond."

A smile stretched across his face, stealing Y/n's breath away.

"Then... how do you feel about getting dinner tomorrow?"

She smiled. "I would like that. Very much."

•○🌑○•

It had been a few months since that night, and Azriel and Y/n had been courting each other traditionally, like they would have if they weren't mates.

They took it slowly. Just last month they had shared their first kiss.

They had told each other everything about their pasts. She knew all about Azriel and he knew all about her. Except that one thing that not even her father knew. It wasn't as if she didn't want to tell him. She just didn't know how to.

As she knocked on the door to his new home, she wondered if she should tell him today. Better late then never, right?

He opened the door, an instant grin spreading on his face as he opened the door wide.

"Welcome home love." He mumbled, kissing her temple as she passed by him. She smiled and set the box in her hands on the corner where the other boxes were. "Dinner's ready."

He had recently bought this house for the two of them. His stuff was already here, and the box Y/n had been carrying was the last of her belongings.

When she had insisted that she could bring her stuff herself and didn't need him, he had declared that he'd be cooking dinner then.

They sat in comfortable silence as they ate. After the plates had been cleared away, he forced her to sit and relax while he did the dishes.

So as she sat on the kitchen counter, she told him of the new book she'd been reading. Soon enough, he had finished his work and was standing between her knees, leaning on his hands on either side of her hips, listening diligently as she finished her story.

"And that, my love, is how they got their happy ending." She flicked his nose.

He sighed. "I wonder if I'll get my happy ending tonight."

She giggled. "And what do you think your happy ending will be?"

"Just a few sweet kisses from my sweet sweet mate."

She laughed and kissed him. He smiled into the kiss.

It was amazing and dreamy, like she had always imagined and wanted her life with her mate to be like.

But the dreaminess of the moment soon started summoning her nightmares as Azriel's hand started to inch higher on her thigh, his other hand tugging her towards the edge of the counter.

Panic flared in her as she placed her hand on his chest, trying to push him away gently.

But then his hand brushed the waistband of her pants, and she pulled away with a gasp, her chest heaving. "No."

His brows furrowed as he searched her eyes. "What happened, darling?"

Tears formed in her eyes as those memories started creeping up on her. "No– not yet Azriel. I–I can't–"

Seeing those tears, his face softened with understanding. "Hey, its okay. We can wait. There's no hurry. Can you tell me what the matter is? Is it something I did?"

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "A century ago, I was still living in Autumn Court. Beron's Second in Command hated me, for no other reason that I existed, apparently. He was always trying to get me executed or imprisoned. One time, he succeeded. He convinced Beron to throw me in the dungeon because I was being rebellious, according to him. A few days in the dungeon would discipline me. And–and that he would personally look over my imprisonment." As her voice broke on the last part, Azriel's hands clutched her own and squeezed.

She swallowed. "He... he did overlook my imprisonment. Quite personally too."

He searched her eyes, his face hard. "The guards? They did nothing?"

She laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They enjoyed watching him... discipline me." She wiped her face with her sleeves. "I'm so sorry, you have to wait because of me–"

He shushed her. "One thing I always want you to remember is that it wasn't ever your fault. It was his. Never apologise for someone else's mistakes." She sniffled as he pulled her into his arms, her head resting on his shoulders as she wound her hands around the back of his shoulders. He clasped the back of her neck as his other hand rubbed her back. He then carried her to their new bedroom, while she clung to him like a child, all the while murmuring about how it wasn't her fault.

He sat her down on the bed, helped her change into her night clothes before laying her down and settling down next to her. She lay her head n his chest, breathing in his calming scent.

"Can you tell me his name, love?"

"Orvyn."

She could feel him nod. She wondered why he asked, but couldn't think straight as sleep started creeping in.

She would ask him tomorrow, she decided.

•○🌑○•

Azriel's pov.

He was alert as the footsteps became louder and louder, until that bastard came into view. Azriel wanted to gut him like a fish, but that would not calm his rage. So he calmly stepped out of his shadows, only enough that he could be heard without having to shout.

"Orvyn?" He questioned. The blonde male turned, squinting to make out who had called his name. "Are you the Second in Command?"

Azriel watched as his chest puffed at the mention of his title. "Yes. That's me. Who might you be?"

Then Azriel stepped completely away from the darkness concealing him and smirked. He prowled closer, noticing how fear entered Orvyn's eyes, and how he refused to back down.

But while he was busy staring at the Spymaster, he failed to notice the shadows winding around his legs and arms. When Azriel was close enough to him, he whispered. "Your death."

Orvyn's eyes widened as he opened his mouth to scream, but before he could even take a breath, Azriel had winnowed the both of them away to the dungeons. The place where his mate had been kept.

•○●⛦●○•

As the darkness cleared from his vision, he found that his shadows had already bound Orvyn to the wall, keeping him standing. Some of them held his hand next to his head while some had bound his mouth so he couldn't scream. And some had already gone to keep an eye on anyone who might be coming near, sealing the ears of the guards nearby.

Azriel smiled at Orvyn as he whispered. "Where shall we start?" He pulled out Truth–Teller and placed it near his fingers. "Here? I think that's a good idea."

And then, as slowly as he could, he cut off the bastard's fingers. The stench of piss hit the air. "What is this? I thought you were supposed to be very brave and powerful. What happened now? If you're crying and pissing yourself now, I wonder what you'll do when I carve your dick out. I'll do that, then maybe even take your eyes as souvenirs. What do you say? Oh, and also, I want you to know that I'm not doing this because I'm being paid for it or anything. I just found out you assaulted my mate. Remember? Her name was Y/n."

His eyes were wide in recognition as tears started streaming down his face and Azriel clicked his tongue. He pulled out another ordinary dagger from his array of weapons and stabbed it in his thigh.

Then he placed Truth–Teller on his face and set to work.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

She groaned as she blinked the sleep from her eyes and stretched her hand out in search of her mate's warm body. But all she came across were cold sheets.

She was confused as she sat up and looked around for any indication of where he might be. He would have left a note if he was going for work. Maybe he was in the kitchen.

So she got up and waddled down the stairs, hunting for her mate. But she couldn't find him anywhere in their home.

Where was he?

Just then, she heard the front door opening and she rushed to meet Azriel. She had already expected him to be out, and he had returned now. Maybe he'd been running some errands.

What she hadn't expected was for him to be covered in blood.

"Cauldron boil me! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She asked, trying to usher him into the bathing room.

"What makes you think I'm hurt?" He raised an eyebrow.

She faltered. "Well, first of all, you look like you just took a swim in a pool of blood. Forgive me for expecting the worst." She began turning on faucets and filling the tub for him, adding oils into it before turning to him. Hurt or not, he would want to take a bath.

"I could have been doing my Spymaster things." He said, stripping and stepping into the water, sighing.

"Whenever you leave for work, you leave a note. Where were you, Azzie?"

"Just having some fun." When she continued to glare at him, he finally told her. "Hunting down bastards." She raised a brow. "Second in Command. Orvyn."

Her eyes widened. "What did you do to him?" He ignored her. "What did you do Azriel?"

So he told her everything in detail, so much so that she wanted to gag even as pride surged in her for her amazing mate. When he finished, he stood and toweled off, coming to stand in front of her.

She sighed. "Don't you think this could strain the already fragile relations between Night and Autumn? Beron could decide to attack–"

He grasped her jaw and tilted her head back as he leaned closer. "Y/n, I do not care about any of that."

"Are you sure? I remember you saying that you would do anything for this Court."

"Night Court is important for me, but not as much as you and your happiness. The whole of Prythian could go to hell if it meant you would be happy. Just say the word and I'd set the world on fire for you, my love."

Wetness gathered in her eyes and she furiously swiped at them. He pulled her hands away, smiling softly. "I don't want to cry." She choked out. He laughed and pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him so tight she wondered if he would choke.

But he didn't do anything other than hug her back just as fiercely.

And finally, after all these years, Y/n felt like she was safe. Nothing could hurt her as long as she had her mate.

And she couldn't ask for anything more.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @eos-princess

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - Part 2

Characters: demon brothers, fem!MC and flirty! fem! NES (MC x NES)

How’s it gonna be , Intro – Part 0 , Part 1 , Part 3

Masterlist

CW: rejection, abandonment, women flirt hard from my experience but this is mild i think, suggestive but also mild, lession 16 mentioned, MC is not stupid and deserves to vent, no comfort in this one folks, my favouritism is showing

A/N: Jesus Christ guys. On another note, for those who couldn't be tagged: please check if you can fix the problem! I don't mind sending you a private message, but it's easier this way :)

.

It was a surprise for Lucifer, somehow, seeing someone like MC so content with someone like NES. When one smiled, the other frowned; sweet and spicy; beauty and brawn. The brothers had naively thought having MC share her room was bound to cause problems, but how wrong they were.

Four months into the second year of the program, the two girls had already merged their closets, creating a unique style with their combined clothing. They’d also decided to use one of the beds for storage, sleeping together in the other. The first time that happened and all of them had to face Belphie’s resentment, Lucifer had feared for NES’s safety and even considered confining his brother in the attic again. Thankfully, and surprisingly, the younger demon had opted for the pettier option: ignoring MC altogether and treating NES like a rotten piece of furniture.

He was probably hoping for MC to feel guilty enough to completely ignore NES and come crawling back to him, but, as different as they were, both humans quickly became two peas in a pod, always walking hand in hand, shoulders brushing while exchanging secrets that no one else was allowed to hear.

Overall, the whole situation had become a recurrent topic in the brothers’ groupchat and, while Lucifer wanted to remain as nonchalant as ever, it was impossible to hide his opinions on the matter.

He wasn’t happy.

None of them were.

.

.

Mammon wanted her gone.

He wanted her gone now.

Who did she think she was, stealing MC’s attention from him and acting like she didn’t know what she was doing? Sitting next to her at every meal, massaging her scalp during movie nights and waking her up at odd hours because she liked ‘those late night talks’ in the kitchen?

What type of talks were ‘those’? MC could have them with Mammon; she didn’t need NES! She had him, after all. Her first man!

“Well, I’m her first woman then” answered NES the time they argued over who was gonna sit next to MC in class.

Who did she think she was?!

“Are you okay, Mammon? You seem upset”

And there she came, the bane of his existence, already dressed up in her RAD uniform and dragging MC by the hand. Both of them looked tired and Mammon realized with primal horror that no noise had come from the kitchen that night.

“Why are you so tired?! MC!”

Her only answer was a yawn, so NES gave herself the right to talk on her behalf; but not before handing MC some food for breakfast, of course. 

Although half of it was burnt, Mammon still hoped MC would like it.

“Oh, we were up for a long while, barely slept at all. Right, MC?”

She nodded, happy under the pampering, but her eyelids were half closed and she didn’t seem to notice she was eating her favorites. 

Mammon stared at them in shock and distraught before sparing a glance at Lucifer, who was too occupied checking his DDD and drinking his coffee to pay attention. Had he really looked at him, though, he would’ve seen a twitch in his brother’s forehead and a stillness in his eyes; he wasn’t reading at all.

“Then maybe MC and I could take a nap after class”

They all looked at Belphie, who had started to show an unusual interest in going to RAD those last few days. He was smiling like a kid in a candy store, already gawking at the idea of spending quality time with MC, or, at least, what he considered quality time.

His expression dropped, however, when MC shared a complicit glance with NES and smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry Belphie, but I already made plans with NES”

“We’re going to Majolish” added said girl with a sly glint in her eyes “MC saw some clothes and wanted an outside opinion” 

Belphie looked downright offended, but not as much as Mammon felt. What did she mean they were going to Majolish because MC wanted an outside opinion? He was there! He was literally a model!! Hell, even Asmo would've been a better choice!

“I’ll go with you!” he announced, not asking for permission “I’m a professional, you know? You should be thankful I’m even considering wasting my time on some dumb humans!”

The youngest demon rolled his eyes, but NES’s expression briefly flickered and that was almost enough for Mammon. Beside him, at the head of the table, Lucifer sighed. 

“Do what you want, but if you end up third wheeling, that’s on you”

MC laughed, neither confirming nor denying anything. NES watched over the brim of her mug, challenging them with unsaid words.

Mammon wanted her gone.

.

.

Famine woke Beel up, like always, so he went to the kitchen, like always. It’d been MC’s turn to cook that night and he was pretty sure she’d stored some leftovers in the fridge for him. It was nice, being remembered even when she was too occupied with NES to pay them attention anymore. It brought some comfort, as well as a small smile to his face.

But much to his chagrin, the kitchen light was already turned on when he arrived, and his mood soured when he saw what was happening. Beel’s heart dropped and plummeted through his guts, deepening the black hole in his stomach. MC was leaning against the counter, creating some concoction in a bowl, while NES hugged her from behind. Both of them waved at him when he made his presence known, getting no greetings in return.

“Hi, Beel! I left food in the fridge for you!”

He wanted to be happy and thank her for the trouble, but he wasn’t able to think properly, not when NES’s face was snuggled into the fluff of MC’s hoodie, hands sneaking around her waist and disappearing under the material.

What was she doing? Should he stop her? But MC looked so cozy… not uncomfortable at all. His throat closed at the same time his stomach roared loud enough to fill the silence in the kitchen.

“Beel, are you okay?” 

“You seem upset”

MC looked worried, but NES’s words crammed his mind. She’d said the same thing to Mammon that morning wearing the same self-satisfied expression.

Ignoring his needs and his emptiness, Beel turned around and left them alone.

.

.

MC was seething. Her thoughts were a mere blurr and a sting in her throat left her unable to speak her mind the way she wanted to do it.

Was he serious?

Were they serious? Those self-righteous hypocrites! 

“We think it’s for the best, MC” spoke Lucifer like she was a child too slow to get his point.

“She’s playing with you, honey! She’ll hurt you!”

The gall. The audacity. The… ugh!

She stared at Asmo baring her teeth, never a threat to them, but a gesture so uncharacteristic of her that it was impossible not to treat the situation seriously. The common room was silent, yet MC was sure every single one of them was able to hear the violent thumping of her heart.

“We’re doing this for you”

“FOR ME?” she screeched at Belphie.

A scream would’ve made her feel better, but she guessed the high pitch got her point across good enough, her anger reaching every corner of the room. The brothers stayed silent, eyes wide open and muscles tense, waiting for her next movement. Not even when she got up from her seat and paced they spoke.

“YOU DO THIS FOR YOU!” 

“MC, lower your voice”

“NO”

Lucifer glared at her, the red in his eyes glowing dangerously. MC wanted to keep going just to spite him, begrudgingly giving up in the end. She was close to crying out of frustration and her throat hurted, so screaming would only hurt her more.

“You were the ones that insisted so much on having another human exchange student” she reminded them, stopping in front of the fireplace and basking in the warmth for some comfort, pointing to the eldest brother with clenched jaws “You said it would improve the program!”

“She’s holding you back, distracting you and using you for her own entertainment!” intervened Satan before Lucifer could speak.

“Oh, because you were so altruistic last year! Treating me with all the respect I deserved! Totally not threatening me all the time or even killing me for selfish reasons! You’d never do that to me, would you?!”

They lowered their gaze, suddenly very embarrassed, and MC felt a part of her healing. Then she saw Levi’s glassy eyes and Beel’s defeated expression. Neither Mammon nor Belphie weren’t even looking at her anymore. And she could live without Belphie’s half-hearted apologies, but not without the brothers under a pact.

“I believe this is enough, MC. Calm down and we’ll talk again in the morning”

Lucifer got up, his voice completely neutral, but his eyes pleading and desperate. He started to close the distance, but she got away, walking towards the door without breaking eye contact.

“You were so on board with this, Lucifer!”

The tears swelled in her eyes. Hot tears breaking her a little more, fuelling her anger. 

“Do you really think I’m not aware of what she’s doing? We share a room, you morons! I've lived with her more than I’ve ever lived with you!” 

There was silence again, four of them looking at her with visible pain and the other three leaning against each other.

Fuck it then.

“It’s all good and awesome when you’re the ones in favor, but when I’m the one having fun, suddenly NES has to go away?! Do you hear yourselves?! I’m so done with you thinking I owe you anything at all, let alone my fucking soul! Half of our pacts weren't even born out of friendship, so hear me out and hear me well! Get your heads out of your asses and for once in your life: LEAVE ME ALONE!”

MC walked away, closing the door at full force and leaving them behind in more ways than one.

How could they ever get over this?

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.

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Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming