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solbaby7 · 4 months

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Feel Me

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual descriptions, tensionnnn, cocky!az , minors DNI

summary: Fae males don’t make love like the sweet boys you knew in the human lands. Fae’s fuck.

based of the request in [ part 1 ]

—

No one else was supposed to be home.

Rhys and Feyre had left long before the morning dew could mist over the lawn. Cassian and Nesta had slipped out hours ago with their leathers on and hair neatly braided after a steaming cup of coffee.

Buttered pancakes steam on a plate, bacon sizzles on the stove and your hips sway in tandem with whatever bouncy song your humming. Strawberry stumps grow in a pile to your left, knife slicing at ripe fruit contentedly until a sneaky wisp of darkness snatches a piece for its master. “You planning on sharing?”

“Depends on how nicely you ask.”

Azriel doesn’t bite, he only raises a brow with a smirk growing at the corner of full lips. “Was it polite words that initiated Elain’s legs straddling your waist the other night?” Shock shoves the ability to form a sentence out the window and you despise the way your eyes linger on the mess of dark hair atop his head—thoughts wandering to less than respectable places when picturing other ways to muss up soft strands. “Bacon’s burning.”

A frustrated scoff pulls from your throat, a blush fanning across your cheeks and gratefulness floods your chest when you actually have something to busy your hands with to avoid Azriel’s honeyed stare. “Not that it’s any of your business,” You hiss, avoiding spattering oil while forking meat from the pan. “But, I was just helping out a friend.”

“Helping?” His morning voice was sinful; a low rasp coupled with lazy lids and a t-shirt that fit entirely too well.

“I offered sound advice.” The house cleans while you plate, stealing berry stumps as a warm rag is ran over the countertops. Hot water is poured in a mug, a tea bag string twirled around the handle. Azriel’s already next to you, twisting open the honey jar and passing it over before you can reach for it. “I demonstrated to ensure a thorough understanding—nothing more.”

“And what exactly were you demonstrating?”

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Syrup drowned pancakes are shoved into your mouth, favoring the possibility of choking on fluffy goodness over engaging in this conversation for a second longer.

Azriel doesn’t feel the same way, blocking off your hasty exit with his body. Was he always this tall? Giant wings hover behind him and they rustle softly when you reach out a hand to gently push him away. It was a mistake on your part—initiating physical contact because now all you could focus on was the warmth that ebbed through the soft cotton of his shirt and the hard muscles hiding beneath it. “Make it my business.”

You don’t pull away, too entranced with the smell of him. The feel of his body against your fingertips. The barely there distance that toed the line of entirely too close. “I don’t understand why you’d even care.” You mutter, snatching your hand away when you catch yourself subconsciously rubbing at the dark fabric. “I was—“ Words stammer, breath catching over the intensity of his stare and you have to will your voice to steady itself. “I was teaching her how to properly be intimate with a male.”

“I didn’t realize there was a proper way.”

“You know what I mean,” You ramble, obviously flustered when swatting away the inky fog that attempts to swipe crispy bacon from your plate. “She asked for advice and I gave a few tips to make her feel more confident—more comfortable. I was being friendly.” The pancakes have started to go cold around the edges but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Azriel keeps stalking closer, arms boxing you into the counter with ease.

“Hm,” His face is unreadable, void of any emotion but your certain his eyes go just a touch darker when you lean back, your shirt rising; broadcasting a sliver of your stomach and the pale blue panties peeking out of your sleep shorts. “And if I wanted some friendly advice—would you help me with that too?”

Breakfast is long forgotten, your eyes following the plate being pushed away by hands much bigger than your own. A shaky laugh emits, strands of your hair tickle at your cheeks and you’re painfully aware of your attire—or lack thereof judging by hardened peaks poking through delicate silk. “Az, you’re no blushing virgin. What could I possibly help you with?”

Cool shadows trace over bare legs, teasing up your calves and curling around your knees. “I can think of a few things.”

A predatory darkness coats every word, lids narrowing challengingly at you from above. There’s nowhere to run and truthfully you didn’t want to; falling into the trap of his insinuations until the smell of your arousal was becoming anything but subtle. But, then again, who fucking cared when this was exactly what you’d been craving for as long as you could remember. Filthy little fantasies about the Illyrian soldier had plagued your mind for decades. You were reduced to haughty looks and bitten lips while he sparred shirtless with Cassian, sweat gleaming against his chest and the sharp ring of swords colliding. Dirty desires that flared when you’d bump into Az late at night, his hair messy and eyes hazy—that lazy smile and those pet names that he’d let slip when he was too tired to overthink them.

Could it have been possible that Elain had been right?

That you just needed to look to find what you were yearning for.

You pray you don’t appear as desperate as you feel when your eyes scan his own; sifting through the shades of warm caramel and burnt sephia as if they’d shift into mystical beings with endless answers to your list of questions. “Such as?”

“Maybe,” The syllables are drawn out with a sing-songy lilt that has your legs shifting. “—we can start with why you thought she’d be using your tricks and charms on me?” You blame the breeze sifting through the curtains on the shiver that rakes up your spine.

The counter is cold when you lift yourself onto it, palms flat and back curving against the window pane. You shrug, breaking the eye contact and turning your head to face the flying creatures fluttering their feathery wings in the bird bath. “I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else. You and Elain spend lots of time together and she’s obviously beautiful in that delicate, sweetheart in need of saving sort of way.”

“Careful, you almost sound jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Well, not anymore. But, he didn’t need to know that you’d ever wasted a second of sleep on him. “It was just an observation.”

“A poor one.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not going after your job.” Your arms cross over your chest, knees childishly nudging at the top of his thighs to push him away but he remains steady like a brick wall. Irritation pushes the fluttery twist of yearning out of the way the longer Azriel peers down at you with that look in his eye—that stupidly handsome smirk plastered on his annoyingly kissable lips. “Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with?”

The vitriol in your tone only furthers the grin on his face, eating up the fluctuating emotions he pulls from you like a full course meal. “Just one more.” A breeze shifts through the open window, cutting through the strands of your hair and the smell of your conditioner permeates the space between you. “How much longer must I wait for you to pursue me before I have to take you for myself?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you’d like but not for your pardon.” It’s said so swiftly your brain barely registers the suggestive nature of it before he’s talking again. Sweeping you up in the whirlwind that was Azriel and all you could do was hold on tight for the ride. He obtains a boldness you could only dream of, hips jutting forward between your legs to keep you from slipping away; closing the distance until his wants and desires are anything but unclear when pressed so firmly against you. “How much longer?

You swallow, the movement tracked by a hunters stare as you scramble to pull together a coherent sentence. “I suppose that depends.”

“On what?”

“On if you have any almost lovers that you’re still pining after?” Shadows glide over the countertop, sneaking behind you and urging you forward. Silky sleep shorts shuffle upwards with the motion and Azriel’s wastes no time in his exploration. Warm hands rake up the length of your legs leisurely, tracing over barely there scars and memorizing moles many overlooked. “Or do you only want me because you’ve never had me?”

Tension hold thick in the air, heavy mugginess that coats your skin with an uncomfortable warmth as you and Az sized each other up—waiting to see who’d break first.

The odds didn’t seem to be swaying in your favor.

“Never had you?” Azriel repeats as if you’ve told a joke, confidence roaring in his veins from the reactions your body offers him. Goosebumps follow the tantalizing trail of his fingers up your legs, thighs subconsciously shifting wider, granting access for more of his body to touch against your own. “Every time I close my eyes, I have you.” He has to know the effect this has on you. That must be why he insists on stealing your backbone and converting it into a makeshift leash until you’re completely pliant in his grasp. “Not exactly conventional. Nowhere near comparable the real thing, I’m sure.” A wicked gleam twinkles in his eyes, his hard chest the perfect contrast against the softness of your own. “But, it’s certainly served to be good practice.”

“Azriel—“

“How much longer should I wait?”

The barely restrained need he emits makes your stomach clench. Forces your eyes to dart from his own to his mouth; lingering, lusting.

Fuck, not much longer at all. It felt like the clock was ticking and with each second that passed, your fate grew nearer and nearer.

Instinct speeds up the process, nudging you closer until the tip of your nose brushes against his own. It’s cautious—exploratory. Testing what was allowed and what wasn’t but Azriel’s patience only stretches so far and waiting for this—for you—is an impossible task.

His mouth covers yours in a claiming clash of eager lips and hands desperate to learn the shape of you.

You’re no better, nails raking through inky strands and scouring the strong slope of his shoulders like a woman starved. A relieved sigh tickles at his skin when he kisses over your cheeks, down your neck; until that spot just below your ear forces out low whines. “Az,” Your chest heaves, lungs struggling for a full breath. “Someone will see us.”

Azriel groans, lips searching for the spots that shut you up. The spots that had your spine curving and leg hooking over his waist. You lean back, anticipating the cool chill of the wall but all you meet is soft sheets and fluffy pillows as inky shadows disperse around the room. “Better?”

“Almost.” Eager fingers grip at the offending fabric hiding golden-brown skin beneath, attempting to yank it free. “Take this off.”

“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”

“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”

Azriel’s efficient in adjusting to your suggestions, tearing apart soft silk as if it were nothing more than a piece of parchment in his quest of baring more of you to him. Hips buck up and nails dig into the hard-earned muscles of his back while his mouth sucked marks across your chest. Warm hands dip under the waistband of your shorts, back curving softly in anticipation as preening little moans cut through the darkness of Azriel’s bedchambers.

When he finally touches where you need him most, teeth sink harshly into the fat of your bottom lip; the feeling of his fingers dragging slow circles over the thin cotton of your underwear becoming the perfect torture. It feels too good to ponder on about the arousal soaking through your delicates or the desperate pleas for more that tumbles from your lips like sinful prayers.

Any remaining clothing falls carelessly to the floor, the hard length of him resting at the crux of your thighs. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t I feel sure?” Your brows are a little pinched when you stare up at him, a hand wedging between your bodies to guide the swollen head of his cock to your entrance.

“You feel like mine,” Az confesses hoarsely. Inch by deliciously devastating inch is pushed to the brim, hazel eyes transfixed on the snug wrap of your pussy and the warmth that follows. “Like you were fucking made to take my cock.”

He was better than you’d ever pictured, stealing your very breath away with each dragged out stroke. “Az,” His gaze is heavy, sliding up to meet your own with dark promise casting shadows against god-like features. “Please, just move.”

“Here I was trying to get you properly adjusted,” A biting grip begins at your waist, fingers digging precious prints into your hips as Azriel positions you as he pleases. Bare thighs are braced in the crease of his arms, a cocky smirk ghosting his face. “But you just wanna be fucked.” Eyes roll behind fluttering lids when the pace picks up, the position forcing you to take every inch until all you can offer is choked moans and garbled praises.

Claiming marks are placed wherever Azriel’s mouth can reach, muffled groans and deep grunts of pleasure vibrating against your skin as he carves out a space specifically made for him. You don’t last long, lips searching for his own as you clench around the length of him; toes curling and manicured nails biting at the base of his wings.

“There you go,” He croons, gently tucking stray hairs away from your face—a complete juxtaposition from the relentless way his cock fucks into you. “Taking me so well.”

Bleary eyed and boneless you are in his grasp; allowing him to act on every secret fantasy and salacious desire he'd harbored longer than he could remember until you feel the vicious twitch inside you, his hips stuttering and seed spilling.

The room reeks of sex, sheets sodden and clothes too ruined to walk out of there wearing them without looking like you belonged in a pleasure hall.

Not that it would matter—Azriel won't let you go now; hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. "You were wrong, you know." Your brow raises in silent question. "Now that I've had you, I can't see myself ever wanting anything else."

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tender-rosiey · 1 year

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girl dad — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: kinda inspired by the most adorable girl ever named saylor <3

sometimes, you feel like your husband was born to be a girl dad.

he always indulges her, and he even says that she is the second person he can’t say no to, the first one being you. it also helps that your husband is a man so confident in his masculinity that he doesn’t mind using a princess voice to play with his girl.

he doesn’t mind her trying a makeup kit on his face or getting him a skirt so he can be the ultimate princess to attend the tea parties.

of course, your daughter loves him to death.

you remember that one time satoru came home later than he had told her, and she sat down at the front door until he came. she also was so close to tearing up, so you pulled her into your embrace, and the both of you patiently waited for him.

when he came in, the big baby was about to tear up himself and pulled the both of you into one bone-crushing hug. it was a sweet moment that never leaves your mind.

now, though, her loving him so much doesn’t stop her from being a sometimes—unintentionally—savage 5 year old.

you remember that one time when you all went to play some soccer together.

your girl was so excited; she practically jumped out of her seat the moment you arrived. you were still setting the seating area up when your husband struck up a conversation with your dear daughter.

he was helping her put on her knee pads as he smiled, “you nervous, pretty?”

she quirked an eyebrow and quickly shook her head, “nope!”

“really?” he hummed then pouted, then started securing her shoelaces, “well, I am nervous.”

“why?”

he looked her in the eyes with a chuckle, “I don’t want to play bad in front of you and mommy.”

you roll your eyes and ruffle his hair, making him grin up at you, and the both of you await your daughter’s response.

she looked at him then nonchalantly said, “well, guess what? I saw you play yesterday and you played bad,” then she looked at you with a grimace, “really bad.”

satoru gasped, and looked at her incredulously, “what?! I did not!”

another thing is that she picks up anything and everything, and very quickly too. you have yet to decide whether it’s a good or bad thing. you do know that it provides a lot of comedy in this household though.

for example, one time they were playing nail salon together, and your daughter was the customer this time.

you were also another customer, but your very dedicated husband already finished your nails and gave you one hell of a message so you were resting on the side.

of course, he gets his payment later.

anyway, your husband, the worldwide famous nail tech, started working on her tiny hands. he is very concentrated even when he talks with her, “so you have a husband?”

your daughter nods, and he continues his inquiry, “is he nice?”

she pauses for a moment, before gasping with a deep frown, “he’s mean!”

he blinks before grinning, “ooo, spill the tea,” he picks another color and continues painting her nails. you glance at her nails, and—surprisingly—he is doing a wonderful job. you do remember that he told you he can be good at anything he tries.

guess it wasn’t just some talk to woo you.

she stares at the void, “I will spill tea on him.”

“woah,” satoru’s head snaps towards you and he looks concerned and kind of proud? he is probably happy she can stand up for herself. he hums, “what did he do?”

she shakes her with disappointment then sighs, “doesn’t help with the house.”

“jeez, what a bad husband.”

“mhm! bad!”

as much as she is a daddy’s girl, however, she is also a mommy’s girl.

you had went out with your friends for a couple of hours, leaving satoru and d/n to fend for themselves. you came back to the house looking as clean as ever.

you breathed a sigh of relief as you looked at your husband and daughter standing side to side.

satoru pressed a soft kiss to your cheek then lightly nudged your daughter, whispering in her ear, “tell mommy that I’ve been good.”

she nods lightly then looks at you, “I’ve been good, mommy!” she beams.

he pouts, “nooo! tell mommy that daddy has been good.”

with a giggle, she hugs your leg and presses a kiss to your thigh—the only place she can reach—, “I’ve been so good!”

he plops on the ground with a whine, “d/n!”

she frowns then looks him up and down. she pulls gently on your shirt and then looks up at you, “daddy’s been bad.”

“d/n!”

what you don’t know is that they’re going to do their best to not show you d/n’s room that is full of sparkles, glitter, and way too many plushies and outfits thrown around. the devils do team up on you every now and then.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #jjk x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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rae-writes · 7 months

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tight schedule

nsfw || something something Barbatos brainrot

The pitch black void of Barbatos' time crevasse was a little disorienting but nothing could pull your focus away from the way your boyfriend was pounding you.

His tail was coiled around your waist tightly to keep you as close as possible, hands gripping at both your chest and your throat. The sounds he made- growls and near whines- were completely unlike his typical composed demeanor, but he just couldn’t help it—

Barbatos stared down at his phone for a couple of seconds, heart practically beating out of his chest.

‘Need you. Please.’ sent 1:03pm

You never asked for hardly anything when you knew he was on duty. The heat between your legs must’ve been torture if you were begging for him now.

He had to serve the young master’s tea in seven minutes…but not if time..stopped.

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, sweetheart.” Barbatos breathed raggedly, thrusting into you sharply. He shuddered at how tight you felt, probably from how pent up you’d been because of his piled on duties.

“‘S o-okay..just needed you—“ You gasp, always so sweet and understanding for him.

But he didn’t want you to be understanding right now, he wanted you to selfishly snatch up the pleasure he was giving you, to scream out his name and feel what you’ve been craving for who knows how long.

“Take it then— take whatever you need. No one will find us here, they’ll never even know we left. Right now’s about you, sweetheart- just tell me what you want me to do. Please, tell me what you need.”

#obey me x reader #om x reader #barbatos x reader #om barbatos #obey me barbatos #barbatos smut #om barbatos smut #om smut #obey me smut

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starsofang · 5 months

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Change of Heart

hitman!ghost x f!reader / part 1

tw: mentions of suicide, alcohol use

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you’re too stubborn to bail out.

You tapped your fingers anxiously against your knee underneath the table, the tea you ordered growing cold as you waited. Your eyes darted around the coffee shop, thankfully rather empty apart from an older couple in the corner and a few schoolgirls ordering at the front counter.

You were early, so it was no surprise he wasn’t here yet, but the waiting game proved to be brutal on your mental as you checked the clock that sat perched on the wall. You could practically hear every antagonizing tick that passed with every second.

The ugly monster that reared its head rattled the thoughts consuming your mind. You were making a huge choice, one you wouldn’t turn back on, and the monster named reality was beginning to bare its teeth at you the more it set in.

The sound of your name being spoken in a gravelly voice had you snapping out of your daze, and when you looked away from the clock, you came face to face with the man in question. Tall, very tall, practically looming like the shadow of doom that seemed to wash over you the longer you stared. His face was covered with a mask, successfully hiding his face away and destroying any bouts of curiosity you may have had before this meeting. Thick arms covered by a black hoodie, the hood pulled over his head where you saw tufts of hair poking out.

“Yes. Yes, that’s me. You must be Ghost?” you confirmed woefully, voice small in comparison to his baritone one.

He gave you a curt nod before settling into the seat in front of you. He hunched into it, eyes low as he stared at you for a long moment from across the table. Eyes that kill, you thought to yourself.

“I’ll cut to the chase. Make it easy for you,” he began, and you held your breath in anticipation. “Just need a name, location, date an’ time, an’ a form of payment. Don’t need the logistics or reasonin’, just need what’s necessary.”

You swallowed nervously, shifting in your seat as you scrambled through your mind for the information.

Risking a glance at the older couple across the shop, they were in their own world, not minding the two of you. The thought lingered in the back of your mind that you were sitting here with a hitman you had hired on the dark web after months of scrounging around for one, and they were blissfully unaware of the exchange.

“Right.” You cleared your throat, sitting up and returning your gaze to his. The way he looked at you was all business, and it nearly sent a shiver down your spine.

“‘M waitin’,” he gruffed impatiently. It didn’t settle the nerves.

“Well…” You cleared your throat again, and his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched your throat bob. “It’s me, actually.”

He said nothing as he stared at you, and you briefly wondered if he’d ever gotten this request before — somebody hiring him to take them out because they were too afraid to do it themselves.

“I’d like it to be on Friday. It’s my favorite day,” you began quietly. Your hands continued to fiddle with each other under the table, picking at the skin around your nails and creating a slight sting. “Eleven PM. I’ll be going to bed by then. I’d… like it to be as painless as possible, so I’ll make sure I’m sleeping to make it easier.”

It was Monday now, so that gave you time to prepare.

Still, he said nothing, and his expression didn’t change. It was hidden beneath the mask, but his eyes were enough to convey what he was thinking — or at least, you thought it’d be enough. But they told you nothing. Blank and emotionless, like you were staring into an abyss of nothingness. A void.

Reaching into the pocket of your jacket, you pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, setting it down in front of him. It contained the address of your apartment you spent most of your time in, and would eventually spend dying in.

“I have the money. Won’t be needing it anyway, so whatever your price is, I’ll have it.”

Finishing your spiel, you expected to feel relief, but instead, you felt a mix of things you weren’t sure of. Dread? You thought you’d be comforted by finalizing the deal to end your life from the hands of another, but it certainly didn’t feel that way.

“Alright,” he agreed after the stretch of silence. He sniffed, adjusting himself in the small chair, placing his arms on the table. “You can leave the money for me in your place. ‘M sure I’ll find it anyhow.”

Releasing a breath, you nodded, watching as he took the wadded paper and shoved it in his own pocket.

“That all?”

You nodded again, mouth too dry to speak. After all, it wasn’t everyday you hired a hitman on yourself, let alone did it in the comfort of a coffee shop downtown.

“I’ll see you Friday then. Eleven PM.”

“Okay,” you breathed, watching as he stood up from the table. He gave you a nod in farewell, and your eyes followed his back as he ducked out of the coffee shop, disappearing like a shadow in the night.

Monday went. Then came Tuesday. Then Wednesday, Thursday, and eventually, Friday.

The week came and went like a breeze, and you had spent it making preparations. You told yourself it was for the best. A letter, written and rewritten over a hundred times, explaining what you did and why you did it — even if it wasn’t really you doing the job.

Life had a silly way of treating people. Everybody came from all sorts of backgrounds, some worse than others, and many came out of it alive.

You weren’t one of those people. You didn’t think you’d have the strength to succumb to the standards of basic living if it meant spending the rest of it miserable and alone.

Sitting in your apartment was a constant reminder of how void it was of any sign of life. Of course it had you, but considering you a sign of life was pushing it. You were barely hanging on by a thread, and all you were waiting for was for somebody to come around and cut the last bit with a pair of scissors so you could fully be free.

Time seemed to pass even slower when you knew death was on its way. You spent the majority of the dreadful Friday cleaning your apartment. You didn’t want Ghost to think you were a lousy slob, after all, even if part of you was — but you had your reasons. What point was there to tidy up on a regular day, when the only thing that ever filled your brain was numbness that extended to all parts of your body?

It was truly a never ending cycle, this life. You hoped that when it ended, whatever lay beyond death was much kinder than how life had treated you. The red-headed stepchild. Long forgotten, but forced to remain. It was punishment to even be alive.

When the sun fell beyond the horizon outside your window and the night sky welcomed the moon, you knew it was only a few hours until the course of your destiny would forever be altered.

You laid in bed, eyes locked on to the old ceiling of your apartment. The clock read 8:54 PM, which left approximately two hours before Ghost would arrive to finish the job. Two long, stretching hours by yourself, consumed in your own cage of a mind.

You couldn’t help that they lingered. Shifting focus between your unhappiness, your selfishness, your resentment towards the world and the people in it that had failed you. The pain brought upon you was almost too much to bear, even in these two hours of waiting.

Why had life been so unkind to you? Why you?

Nevermind that. It wouldn’t be long until you could finally get some rest, for good.

You don’t recall getting up from your bed to enter the kitchen, but you found yourself yanking open the cupboard that held an array of liquor you swore to yourself you wouldn’t touch again. It was as if your mind was in a fog, and you were acting purely out of blinded instinct.

Twisting the cap off of one of the bottles, you took a deep chug of the liquor, allowing the burn to slip down your throat and encase you with a temporary warmth.

Soon enough, that bottle became your companion in bed when you returned, sitting up against the headboard with it resting in your lap, cap lost somewhere along the journey back.

Your eyes stared blankly at the wall as you took the occasional sip, time continuing to tick by as you waited. Time stopped for no one, not even in the wake of death.

Eleven o’clock.

You were far from drunk, but you had definitely nursed the bottle enough to give you a buzz that allowed your mind to cloud over with a sense of fuzziness. It didn’t halt the thoughts from revealing themselves, but it certainly made the self deprecation easier to handle.

You hadn’t moved from your spot on the bed, nor had your eyes shifted away from the dinginess of the walls.

The faint sound of the door rattling almost went unnoticed, but even in the broken state of you, you weren’t sure you would’ve noticed it anyway. It wasn’t until that looming shadow from before had appeared next to you at your bedside that you knew what time it was.

“You’re not asleep,” Ghost gruffed out, voice quiet but nonetheless deep and void of much emotion. It was a nice voice to listen to, you thought, and it would be comforting to hear it in your final moments.

“Sorry,” you murmured quietly, finally lifting your head up to look at him. You looked a mess.

When he took in the sight of you, he could see the slight redness of your eyes, how they sunk into your skin, making you appear ghostly. Your lips were thin and chapped, pressed into a line on your face and making you look older than you were. Ghost saw a client nonetheless, but he also saw a tired girl who had reached the point of breaking. He wondered what had caused you to become this way, but it wasn’t his job to care.

“S’fine,” he huffed out, shifting his weight on his feet. “In no rush to kill you, anyway. Mind if I ‘ave a smoke?”

Ghost nodded his head towards the sliding door to your balcony, and you gave him a nod in return, watching as he walked away with a sniff. The door slid open and he went to step outside, before his eyes turned back to you.

“…Wanna join?” he asked, and you stared at him in surprise. “Figured you might enjoy one last smoke before you go about dyin’.”

You blinked dumbly before setting the bottle of liquor on your nightstand and standing up on bare feet to join him.

Outside was cold, the bitter chill causing goosebumps to rise along your skin. You joined him on the balcony, standing by his side like a lost child while he leaned against the railings.

He lifted the bottom of his mask to rest over his nose, placing a cigarette between scarred lips. The lighter illuminated the bottom portion of his face, and you stared as he took a deep inhale, letting the smoke exude out moments later.

His gloved fingers held the cigarette out towards you, and his sunken eyes watched as you took it from him. You inhaled it, feeling the burn of smoke fill your lungs and temporarily numb you for a brief second, before coughs erupted from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you breathed, eyes brimming with tears as you wiped at your mouth.

“Never smoked before?” he asked, and if he was amused, he didn’t show it.

“No,” you confessed grimly, handing him the cigarette, which he took gently. “Alcohol’s more my thing.”

“Mm.”

You stood in silence as he puffed on the stick, eyes casted out to the city around you. It was quiet despite the lit up buildings cascading a faint glow around the two of you, and for once, you felt peaceful.

“Must be going through quite the trouble if you’re askin’ somebody else to kill you,” he spoke after a pregnant pause in conversation. It snapped you out of your daze, and you turned your head to look at him. He didn’t look back. “Coulda just took a bunch of pills an’ called it a day.”

His words had you feeling a bit dumb, and you looked away from him, feeling a frown form on your face. You knew he was right. You could’ve just done it yourself instead of getting another person wrapped up in it, even if it was his job.

But you were weak. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, couldn’t pull the trigger, couldn’t open the pill bottle, couldn’t throw yourself over the balcony.

“Must not really wanna die all that much if you can’t do it yourself.”

“I do.”

He chuckled, but it was so quiet, it got taken away with the breeze.

“Who are you tryin’ to convince?”

You stared at him in stunned silence, unsure of how to defend yourself. You knew how much pain you were in, and you knew you wanted it to end. But you also knew how much of a weak link you were to your own mind, and how much stronger you could be if you had just put in the effort to get better.

After all, alcohol only solved problems temporarily until they ended up creating more of them.

“I don’t really feel like killin’ you. Pretty girl like yourself doesn’t deserve a fate like that, much less from somebody like me,” he started, taking a pause to inhale another breath of smoke. “So how ‘bout I cut you a deal?”

“A deal?” you asked, frowning at him. “Isn’t it your job to kill, no questions asked?”

“Mm. That it is,” he confessed with a careless shrug. “But I’m not completely heartless.”

That was comical, coming from him. People hired him to kill whoever they requested, no strings attached, and no evidence left behind. He was a hitman, it was his entire livelihood to do just that, yet here he was, cutting you a damn deal.

“…What kind of deal?” You couldn’t help but be a bit curious.

For the first time since meeting, his lips quirked into a smile. It was small, barely noticeable, but in the dim lighting of the butt of the cigarette as it burned, combined with the glow of the city around you, you could see it.

“Two weeks,” he said, shifting his eyes to you. “I’ll give you two weeks to figure out what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours. If you’re still wantin’ to die, then I’ll do it for you. If not, then congratulations. You live to see another day.”

Two weeks to convince yourself to not want to die? The idea seemed silly to you. You had already went through the trouble of finding a hitman, hiring him, and coming up with a payment for when he completed the job of killing you. Wasn’t that convincing enough?

Still, though. You might’ve been a broken woman with little dreams and little remedies, but you were also stubborn. If he wanted to wait two weeks to try and prove you wrong, you’d gladly accept the challenge.

“Okay.” You nodded, tapping your fingers along the railings mindlessly. “It’s a deal, Ghost. Two weeks, and then you’ll be sure to kill me.”

He huffed out a laugh through his nose and extended a gloved hand for you to shake, cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Deal.”

starting another au when i already have one ongoing but this came to me in the middle of the night and i literally woke up mid sleep and was like, good lord i wanna write that!!! so i did 🤌🏻

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x reader #hitman au #cod fanfic

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chocolatetittymilk · 1 month

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Sleep | Bakugou K.

Notes : today is my birthday so I decided to post a couple things for you guys :)

[2:23 am]

“What the fuck…” you mumbled, staring at your ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. You rubbed your eyes with both hands, trying to keep it together. From a distance it seems as though the indentations in the ceiling were the most interesting thing to you. But it was quite the opposite.

Lost in thought about one thing. It’s been eating you up for the past few nights, and you’ve tried everything. Melatonin, counting sheep, reading, warm tea, even a relaxing bath beforehand.

But with every taste of the melatonin you thought about how it kind of tasted like his lips. ‘Strawberry… almost tasted like his lips on that one time on the 4th of July..’

Every counting sheep you thought of how many he could count. ‘30…31.. Suki probably could go to 90. Maybe 100… Wonder if I could beat that.’

With everything you’ve read it ended up with the thought of him enjoying the book himself, or how the character reminded you of him. ‘Why is this character so angry… Almost a replica of Katsuki. Wonder if he’d like this book then..’

Even the warm tea reminding you of the times he’s made you some when you’d bump into each other. ‘Why did he make tea so good? This taste so gross compared to the one’s he’d make.’

The bath almost warm with his embrace. ‘Kats was slightly warmer…Especially at night. Wonder if i could make it hotter…’

Just him. And it was agonizing. Absolutely tiring. He’s not coming back until 1 month. Yet he’s already been gone for 2. You need to get your act together- right? Stupid hero work always taking so much time. What would he say if he saw you right now, staring into a void of darkness like something possessed you.. maybe, ‘the fuck?’ or ‘what are you doing?’ no no he’d say-

“Why are you awake at this hour, idiot?”

You snapped your head towards the door to see a bulky familiar figure. You’d know that voice anywhere. “Kats?”

He walked towards you, setting his bags down as he walked. “Surprise dumbass." He paused looking at your form, sleepy eyes and all. "Well, not anymore.” His tired eyes meet yours, a soft smile relaxing his face.

You shot up and towards him, holding him tightly against you. His rough arms embracing your figure, a loud exhale from both of you. “I missed you…” you mumbled against his chest as you listen to his heartbeat.

“Missed you more..” He kissed your head to your cheek, then placed one to your lips. “Told you I wouldn’t be long, hm?” A gleam in his eyes as he stares down at you.

"Of course, I just couldn't wait..." you mumble more, legs intertwined under the sheets, the fuzz on his legs a familiar feeling against yours. Feeling at home, at peace, like you could finally fall asleep with him with you.

"I always keep my promise baby..." Katsuki looks down at you, pure adoration and love seeping through onto you. Like he was made just for you.

"Always."

my bnha masterlist: bnha m!list

2024 © chocolatetittymilk : do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x black!reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou

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hazelfoureyes · 30 days

Text

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 5)

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins tidbit 2 (cute? Not smut)

Alastor’s rut starts, and while Luci is flattered Alastor’s body sees him as a doe he’s not really down to clown. Yet, somehow…🎪 🤡

「warnings/promises: Alastor x Luci x FemReader, smut, knotting (incorrect deer anatomy), cold tea, womb flooding, Oh Yeah Luci magics a WAP (wet ass pussy) Howd I forget that 💋, so kinda virgin Luci???, threesome obvs, tentacles, sex with the lights on, jiggle physics, mating, breed kink, fluffy chest, Luci wings, brief moment of panicked wing pulling」

minors I will curse all your tea to be cold before you remember to drink it if you interact 🍵 🥶 (mdni)

It was a hilarious detail that ruts exist in hell for the more mammalian sinners. Making people incapable of producing children cyclically embarrass themselves by desperately trying to? While in terrible discomfort? Patently funny.

What wasn’t funny was the fact Alastor was a deer demon. And while Luci got a chuckle at other sinners getting their just desserts for their poor decisions concerning free will, he was now intimately tied to one of those afflicted souls.

It hadn’t really crossed his mind that such an issue could arise until Alastor began to change.

The first sign was intense sessions of zoning not. While he often would stare off into the distance it was usually paired with an obvious look of contemplation. But one evening Luci looked up from his sketches to see Alastor staring into the void with a noticeable lack of any light behind his eyes.

It took you putting your hand on his shoulder to rouse him back to Hell. His ears perked up and eyes brightened, Luci taking note of how Alastor looked at you. A look shared between two people. Could a third person fit into the line of sight?

He shifted uncomfortably, laughing off Alastor as being drunk.

Maybe. But when he found Alastor the following morning drenched in sweat and uncharacteristically… well, asleep, he began to worry.

The face you made was only slightly worried, but what made the situation feel even odder was your insistence he wake up Alastor.

“Just, rub his arm. Don’t shake him. It’ll startle him.” You seemed to scoot away as you said it, which didn’t help Luci’s confidence.

“What- why, what’s going on? What are you fleeing from?”

You had an inkling about what was happening.

“Is he sick!? Is it contagious?” Luci drew his hands to his chest, “Sinners are so gross.”

The sweating was your tip-off. “No, he’s not sick. If I do it he might react weird. You do it, he’ll not care.”

Luci grimaced, “Kitten, you’ve never made less sense than when you first told me you liked this man.”

A whimper from the deer demon made you both turn your heads to him.

“Lucifer.” You hissed.

Alastor did not in fact “not care”, as you had promised. He had Luci pinned under him, bodies tangled in the blankets and Luci’s hands held up and out before Alastor’s eyes were even opened.

As the short king looked up at the drenched and pale radio demon, he saw a distance in the blown out stare. But whatever fog had possessed him seemed to lift as his pupils constricted, a gentle roll of his lower half into Lucifer’s making Luci yelp Alastor’s name.

He reeled back on his knees, long talons raking through his hair to unstick the strands sweat had glued to his face.

Peering down through long lashes, Alastor took a moment to assess the sight before him. Luci expected a glare as recognition flooded the other man, but instead a deep sigh before Alastor lifted off him.

His hand caught your arm and gently tugged you to follow him.

Deja vu set in as Lucifer watched Alastor take you into the bathroom. The door closed, but before he could holler how rude it was to leave him out, you re-emerged.

A sheepish look, a twirling of your fingers around themselves, “Luci.” The way you so gently sat on the edge of the bed made his stomach sink.

“It’s contagious. I’ll burn down the hotel and we can build again.” Lucifer pulled his robe up over his shoulders and tightened it at the waist. “Even better, Come live with me! I have a whole palace.” A beaming smile that wilted when you rejected him with just a furrow of your brow.

“Luci Love,” a nickname you only used when you were trying to keep him pliable, “Alastor’s going into a rut.”

An even deeper grimace, “I thought he’d be immune to that particular punishment.”

“Nope. This is hell.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I thought he’d react gentler with you, but it seems,” you weren’t sure how to say this, “You’ve become…in his subconscious…,” where did all the air go in the room?

Lucifer slipped out of bed, “A burden?” He paced past the bed’s posts, “A third wheel.” He began to gather his pants, “Food!” When you laughed he tripped, “Excuse you.”

You let him spiral a second longer before blurring it out, “A doe!”

He paused, one pant leg on and one off. Little blue ducky patterned boxer briefs embarrassingly bright, “I beg your pardon? I’m The King of Hell.”

“Who regularly shares Alastor’s bed.”

He huffed, “Well…I-,”

“Who has Alastor’s scent all over him.”

A scoff, “Well, he-!”

“And who shares all his free time with Alastor.”

A gasp, “Well you-!”

You waited for him to finish. Luci was keen enough to pick up the sharpness of your glare.

“I’m not even technically female. Angels don’t have a gender I just prefer-,” he motioned to his lap.

“You don’t have to do anything, Luci. I just wanted to let you know.”

As he stood there still half undressed, he considered the options. He’d never dealt with an animalistic sinner before going through a rut or heat. He tended to share his bed with the kinds of demons who were above such afflictions.

“So we can just… leave him be for a few days, yeah?” He kicked off the pants and crawled back onto the bed towards you. “He’ll just ruin some clothes and sheets and be back to normal by the end of the weekend.”

You’d only witnessed one rut before, and the idea of leaving Alastor alone to suffer when his body knew he had a lover was… unbearable. An unpaired mating season was uncomfortable and frustrating. But a paired sinner? The ache would be unimaginable, the normal pain accentuated with heartbreak and a specific longing no one else could subside.

No, Alastor wouldn’t be alone. You just shook your head. “Luci Love.” Lucifer pouted, He’d be the one alone? Again, pushed out of the dynamic? Out of the line of sight? Before he could consider it, you patted the bed. “No worries! As soon as it’s passed I’ll text you.”

Alastor reentered the room, towel around his wee waist and hair dripping. His presence seemed to end the conversation, and the day went on as if nothing different had taken place. The only obvious proof Alastor was slipping into a rut was that continued zoning out now paired with a fevered blush across his cheeks.

Well, one other unmistakably odd action. His arm had come behind Lucifer, resting on the back of the sofa.

Luci tried to not bring any attention to it, but people still stopped and looked a little longer than usual. You’d have loved to help diffuse the tension rising in the common area but you were busy taking the longest, hottest epsom bath you could manage.

Without you to take some attention off of him, Lucifer couldn’t stand the air rolling off Alastor. So he left. Loudly yawning and dramatically stretching at 3pm in the afternoon and hastily walking down the hall.

After pacing the corridors for an odd 30 minutes, he decided to make a cup of calming tea.

His skin jumped when two large clawed hands slipped onto the countertop as he was caged in. Luci stiffened, waiting for Alastor to say something. He’d never gotten so physically close to him in public spaces before. Well, outside of fighting.

Alastor didn’t speak, just took deep and long inhales and exhales. Luci watched the sharp nails cut into the countertop with ease as Alastor’s body swayed with his rising temperature. His arousal knocked into the shorter man’s back, making Luci fall into the counter.

“Why aren’t you secluded away, monopolizing her?” Lucifer’s jealousy was poorly hidden. Leaning forward, the taller demon pressed his erection purposely into the warmth of Luci’s body.

“Our darling shared paramour is not of the same power as I. She can only handle receiving my knot once a day at most. Anymore is burden on her body. But, for The King of Hell…surely it wouldn’t be so difficult?”

A shiver rolled down Luci’s spine and left goosebumps in its wake. “You heard me earlier…,” a question without a question mark.

One of those hands left the counter and slipped around Luci’s neck before pulling at the bow tie and tossing it aside, “I hear everything.” A roll of his hips, “The way you breath in your sleep,” his hand dropped further, pushing underneath the collar of his shirt, “Your early morning romps while I shower,” a large palm that seemed to cover half Luci’s chest with ease, “The sighs of longing when I kiss her good morning and good night.”

His hand flexed before pressing in and clutching Lucifer into his body, “Will you deny me having both my bedmates?”

“Uhh, your highness?” Vaggie stood in the open doorway, “Are you guys okay?”

Alastor didn’t budge, forcing Luci to twist in his grasp and talk over his forearm.

“Heeeey Magpie! Yeah. Yup. Just making tea.”

“With Alastor’s arms around you?” She gestured unnecessarily.

“Mmhmm!” Luci grabbed the mug with both hands, “but now we’re done. And leaving.”

Alastor tentatively released Lucifer, but replaced the hardness at his back with his firm and guiding hand.

Vaggie moved to the side to let the men walk past her. Alastor paused and let Luci decide. Left to his private and lonely apartment, right to their room. A brief moment of hesitation before Luci groaned, running his hand through his hair in disbelief as he turned right. “Bye Vaggie!”

“Bye, Sir.” She managed to say as she watched Alastor corral the fallen angel into the elevator.

The relief you felt when Lucifer entered the room was palpable. Alastor had come to the room, expressed his neediness, watched you say you were totally ready whenever he was (the exhaustion somehow already visible) and left the room with a simple, “I’m not.”

Now he was back, a timid and wide eyed Lucifer holding a mug.

The sound of Alastor’s belt clinking made Luci suddenly shy. Why was he acting like it was his first night in your room?

Oh that’s right.

Because it kind of was. He wasn’t just Lucifer anymore. Alastor saw him as his, in some capacity. And the fact he was ready and willing to let the sinner fully embrace the big buck joke was… embarrassing. What would the other sins say? Luci dicked down by a horny deer sinner?

Well… Lucifer had been fucked by Alastor on more than one occasion so perhaps that didn’t quite sum it up well. There was an added level of intimacy to what they were doing. An almost official acknowledgement of Lucifer’s place.

It made his tail swish behind him tellingly.

All eyes on him as he turned from Alastor to you. You watched the lord of your afterlife nervously fumble around in the armoire for his robe. He got undressed like he’d never done it before, trying to take his pants off before his shoes. You’d have laughed if you weren’t torn away to see Alastor’s eyes fall on you from the door.

You enjoyed low lighting, something romantic in vibes but still well lit enough to see who was who. But Alastor forgo his usual lighting tricks and opted to keep the room flooded with the natural light of day.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had sex in the afternoon. Alastor’s appetite was largely impacted by the convenience of bed time, and Luci was rather busy during the day trying to impress Charlie with his willingness to not completely abandon his people.

Alastor had undone his pants and removed his coat and shirt, showing off your favorite parts of him; a soft and fluffy chest to bury your head and a happy trail leading down a flat but still noticeably toned stomach. His pants were open just enough so that you could see the bulging top of his underwear.

“Sooo,” Luci sang, “Did it start? Is that why he dry humped me in the kitchen?”

Alastor hummed, palming at his leaking head through the damp fabric.

Your fingers slipped down the silk of your own dressing gown, mirroring Alastor. “Not yet. We’re going to jump start it. Get it over with.”

“The sooner, the better.” Alastor ground out, looking with disgust at the sticky clear precum on his palm.

So, Alastor had come to retrieve him, Luci thought. He wanted him there for himself. Sure he said it was to relieve you of your burden of taking his massive knot over and over. But that didn’t explain the erect cock he pressed into Luci, or how he responded when Luci woke him up. No, on a very deep and unchosen level, Alastor had accepted the angel.

Once naked, Luci stood awkwardly beside the bed waiting for further instructions. In truth, so were you. This would only go smoothly if you both let him take the absolute lead. A glance between the two of you before you both turned to stare at Alastor.

Fully nude now, staring back at you both like a starving beast. Luci abandoned his robe when he realized Alastor was going fully naked.

Already Alastor felt the sharpness of his thoughts blunting with an animalistic need. Instincts were blanketing his frontal cortex, and he knew from experience it was best to not fight it. Everything would be done faster if he let go.

“It has to be you first. The first one won’t be so bad, my dear.” His attention was fully on you, stalking up to the side of the bed and pulling at the belt of your robe. The needy sound he made when you were finally revealed to him pulled a sigh from Lucifer. Alastor’s eyes snapped up to meet Luci’s, smirk spread across his cheeks and his ears twitching atop his head. Luci looked away with a pout, remembering the kitchen conversation. Alastor’s hot hand across his chest, holding him so tightly with such ease.

That wide smile turned to you. Wide like your legs, pushed apart as Alastor slotted himself where he belonged. You didn’t know what to ask for, but Alastor started immediately with kisses to your cheeks and neck. He loved it, finding it to have no connection whatsoever to sex. That made your reactions to his kisses so amusing. You got so worked up so easily when he kissed you, it was like a game. How quickly could he make you come undone with just his lips on your flesh?

His mouth was superheated, opening to pull your skin between his lips with every peck. When his tongue pressed into your skin a little groan rumbled his chest.

The sound of a soft thwacking pulled your attention from the lavished licks trailing down your neck and sternum. With just a glance from you Luci became aware of his tail enthusiastically wagging against the large walnut headboard. Sheepishly he grabbed it and pulled it to his center, mouthing an apology.

Alastor side eyed him and patted the bed, instructing him to settle beside you.

How rarely his kisses dripped into such salacious slurps and sucks, how uncommon for Alastor to seem to be arousing himself.

Luci felt so out of place. You three often spent time together like this, but more than not it was you and him with Alastor to the side. What did Alastor normally do when he was busy pleasuring you?

Moving you as little as necessary, he lifted your shoulders and slid behind you. With your head resting on his lower stomach he could straighten out his legs and get comfortable. Alastor acknowledged Lucifer by stretching himself up and kissing him on the mouth. The action took the king by surprise, it was even rarer for Alastor to kiss him. Luci moaned into the affection, earning a satisfied growl from the radio demon.

Could he rut more often? Luci wondered as their lips pressed together.

You watched from your place remembering the first time they surprised you with their teamwork.

Alastor kissed Luci again. And then another, harsher one. The third licking across the smaller man’s mouth. Luci parted his lips, deepening the kiss. Your body rocked as Alastor’s hips rolled into you, half hard cock growing stiffer with each return into the king’s mouth. Alastor moaned, his rutting becoming stronger and longer.

You bit back your own sounds as his cock head caught on your entrance. Alastor broke the kiss and looked down at you for the go ahead. You were already wet, watching them make out was enough but the rubbing of your clit with his erection had you more than ready. He returned to lavishing Luci’s mouth, hips expertly angling back and pressing into you.

Despite your arousal, there was still a slight burn to the stretch of your walls around him. He didn’t ease in, instead pushing forward until he was sunk to the hilt. The pressure of his cock already pushing into your cervix made you moan loudly into the thin space between your face and Alastor’s lower chest.

The feeling of being in you and hearing you express how good that made you feel in turn made the deer sinner growl into Luci’s open mouth, and your monarch found it intoxicating. His head was swimming. An idea came to him that he tucked away for when it was his turn. A stunt he was sure would make Alastor growl and groan even louder for him.

Alastor’s pace quickened, hips coming down against yours without concern for bruising. His mouth stayed locked on Lucifer’s lips, parting for the briefest of moments to pant heavily into the few centimeters between them. To let the man go any further from him was unimaginable and unacceptable. As if to convey that sentiment, Alastor’s hips began to press in and up, using the force to slowly fuck you up the bed, against Luci, until the latter’s head was pressed into the headboard. Trapped between Alastor’s hungry mouth and solid wood.

The few times your eyes could maintain focus, you caught Alastor looking down at you. A pause to stop and acknowledge the pleasure you were so freely giving him.

Passionate was not the typical word you’d use for Alastor’s approach to sex, but that was the only word to come to mind as you watched him bully his tongue past the already swollen lips of your other lover.

Your nails clamored up Luci’s thighs and sunk into the skin near his hip bones. Every exhale came out high and shaky.

As you began to tighten around him, muscles clenching and twitching in response to the way his cock was ramming into your cervix, Alastor finally sat back on his haunches. His hand pressed against your womb and felt your skin move with every inward thrust.

Everything was checking off boxes in his empty head; moaning mate, tight cunt, deep press, two does, clean sheets.

His hands came to your hips to raise you to the perfect angle. Knees widening, he lowered, exploratory thrusts slowed until he adjusted to just how he needed you. You didn’t know the question or the answer he had found, just felt how his wide cock prodded your g-spot.

Alastor’s body was on autopilot, the heat of his fever reaching a pitch you could feel in your deepest spots.

When his knot was forced into you, it’s pulsing and constant pressure on your g-spot was so immense it set off an orgasm that had been building slowly until then. Unprepared, it took your body by surprise as your core drew in.

Lucifer watched your legs fold up and shoulders lift off the bed. Your moans waned before roaring back into shrieks; wails so close to pained he panicked as you shook. You could feel Alastor twitching inside you, the heat of his release uncommonly high. It forced your focus momentarily to that flood of hot seed pooling at your cervix.

A new orgasm crashed through you before the last one’s waves had fully subsided, giving you no time to rest. When you tried to breathe and relax your muscles, you found your swollen cunt sinking further onto his knot. The only way to avoid overstimulation was to keep your stomach and thighs so tight you were ever so slightly pulled away from him.

“Fuck! Cramp!” Your left leg straightened, weakening your perfect pose. Trembling as you struggled to keep the hills of pleasure from becoming something rockier, Luci’s hands shot to your thigh. Firm thumbs tried to find the problem area, Alastor not minding or possibly even noticing Luci.

After some readjustment, you could settle and let the multiple orgasms end their streak. It took time for Alastor to finish, several more sudden and gushing rounds of his cum flooding you. His knot did its job, not letting a drop leave your hole as your lower belly extended slightly. When Alastor finally deflated, he pulled out and let you roll over onto your stomach.

Your arms and legs were still racked with tremors, thighs promising to give out the second you stood. You didn’t get the chance to try though, as soon as you began to crawl on all fours to the edge of the bed a large clawed hand pressed firmly into your upper back and held you down. A hand significantly bigger than before.

“Alastor!” Luci snarled as your face was sinking into the pillows. His eyes flashed his signature red at the now looming form of the radio demon.

“It’s okay Luci. He just needs a second.” You mumbled, feeling Alastor’s free hand run down your sore and swollen entrance. Another moment of Alastor huffing and scenting the air filled the room before he released you. With a roll and a wobble, you rushed to the bathroom to keep the carpet from getting stained with what you could already feel gravity pulling out of you.

Alastor fell face first into the bed. Luci could see the exhaustion settle on the sinner and let nails scratch down Alastor’s back. The deer demon hummed a stifled, “Thank you.” into the silk of the pillows.

Luci very rarely had time to linger on Alastor’s body. The two usually found themselves lost in pleasure and caught in the moment, never a chance to notice the details. He remembered Alastor commented on the sound of him sleeping, a sentiment so oddly sweet he felt compelled to do something sweet in return. He threw his leg over Alastor’s thighs and straddled him, both hands now running up and down his back.

While already smaller than him, Luci could really appreciate how much Alastor had shifted into his more domineering size. His hands were so delicate looking against the scarred and tanned skin of his reluctant partner.

As he reached forward to scratch along his shoulders, he didn’t notice how his soft cock was rubbing against the curve of Alastor’s ass. He might not have noticed if not for Alastor’s pleasured groans growing louder, followed quickly by the rapid flicking of his tail against Lucifer’s navel.

“Feel good, big guy?” Luci leaned forward now with purposeful teasing. Alastor bucked back into Luci’s lap, causing his monarch to feel unsteady nd grip his shoulders for security. “I don’t normally do this, but I’m feeling generous today.”

Alastor’s eyes were closed but still the glow Luci’s golden magic reached past his eyelids. He didn’t register anything had changed for that first second. But then, one by one, the clues roused him.

The little prick against his cheeks was absent.

Something wet was pressing into his thighs.

A sweet and dizzying scent he didn’t know but his brain recognized as good was reaching his nose.

He shot up so quickly Luci fell onto his back with a shout. Alastor felt his vision blur as he tried to focus on the image before him.

Two large, forward turned doe ears atop Luci’s head and a glistening, wet pussy between his milky thighs.

“Surprise!” Luci said proudly, getting onto his stomach to show off his small blonde tail. He knew it would drive Alastor wild but he failed to understand exactly what that meant for a deer demon in rut.

Luci’s eyes rolled back, Alastor’s mouth cupping his newly magicked sex and tongue lapping from clit to hole. It was working far better than he had hoped.

Hips rising up to meet the hungry tongue, Luci regretted not trying this sooner. Everything was so slick. Alastor’s nose nuzzled his flesh with every move between his folds before diving into Luci’s own heat. The growl the sinner made as he fucked Luci with his tongue sent shivers through the king’s body. This was the best praise he’d ever received from Alastor, by far.

The sensations were foreign, his memory of using such a form too outdated to provide him any reference. Soft walls prodded by the strong, long tongue. Luci’s thighs slid open wider and wider to allow more access.

Alastor’s hips ground down into the bed, leaking cock smearing into the blankets as he sought friction. His brain told him to breed but his body didn’t want to part from Luci’s cunt for a second. But when his newly minted mate moaned so loudly, so unashamedly signaled how good Alastor was making him feel, he found the strength.

Luci’s hand flew back to slow Alastor’s entrance, “It’s new anatomy, Alastor. You can’t just go in with one thrust like with Kitten.” He raised his hips, drawing his knees in and gripping the blankets, “Ease in.”

Nothing Luci said really penetrated Alastor’s skull. His vision was pretty pink and sopping wet. But he did try, to be fair. At the first press Alastor had to break the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth to regain some mental clarity. Distantly he heard his king’s sharp gasps and he could feel the way Luci’s hips jumped away before slowly pushing back to regain the length lost. He found Luci nearly too tight, too hot, too soft. A very real fear he would entirely lose his mind tried to sink into his stomach but got burned away in his chest.

“Good boy.”

He couldn’t be sure who said it. But his hips began thrusting in response, shallow but fast. Every return allowed him to stake new territory in his Doe King.

Luci couldn’t think straight either, the pain was enough to make him shake yet added an excitement he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t pain for nothing. It was the ache of his body stretching apart to accept Alastor. It was the sting of being molded to his lover. The growl Alastor let out when he could finally fit all of himself in made the smaller man’s toes curl.

He clicked back into his body from the sensation of your fingers carding through his disheveled hair.

“Looks like you’re taking him well, your majesty.” You cooed, sliding down onto your belly and resting your head on your arm. He saw the way your eyes examined the angle at which Alastor was hitting. Your hands gripped his ears gently, watching his tail swish side to side.

“Doe.” Luci ground out, neck craning back, “I thought he’d like it.”

Alastor reached over and let his hand feel the impact of his cock through Luci’s lower stomach. Coming down, he let two large palms rest on either side of Luci’s ears. If the position didn’t warn him, a beginning move for Alastor’s mating press, the bulging knot threatening his hole did.

“I don’t wanna,” Luci stopped to moan, body rocking back to meet the already dead end thrusts, “—this position when he knots.”

It took some coordination, and Alastor didn’t particularly like the idea, but he relented. He took Luci by the waist and fell backward onto the bed.

Alastor whined when the warmth of Lucifer’s cunt left him, but you were treated to the most salacious moans as Luci sunk back down onto the bright red organ.

Finding a pace that satisfied him was easy, as Alastor had swelled large enough to bully every inch of Lucifer’s newly broken-in pussy.

Watching his doe eared lover ride him so vigorously made Alastor’s chest heave and swell with pride.

“He wants you so badly,” you smile as you slid into the bed beside Alastor, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Funny,” a snicker before letting his hips fuck up into Luci and knocking him off balance, “He seemed insulted to be called a doe earlier.”

Luci flashed a middle finger before resting both hands in Alastor’s raised knees for support.

Alastor turned his head to you, whispering how perfect you were for him, how you gave him more than he deserved. You let your eyes close to the sound of his voice so low and gravelly. His words warmed your heart and your lap with efficiency you had to admire.

Jumbled and rather embarrassing thoughts flooded the radio demon's mind far worse than the ones he said out loud to you. He felt he fully succeeded in bringing the devil under him (metaphorically). But the animal pieces of himself he was made to endure went silly and slack, what a feisty mate. My prodigy could have no better than the devil himself. Good doe. Mine.

You opened your eyes again and watched the knot swell to a point you’d consider scary. Alastor sensed it somehow too, despite the static bouncing around his skull in lieu of rational consciousness, and turned his attention away from you.

He wrapped a hand around Luci’s neck and drew him down to his face, his mouth to the king’s ear. “When you cum, I will make you take my knot. And then your tight little hole will clamp down and milk me dry. Are you ready, your majesty? To take everything I will give?”

Luci clenched around Alastor and bit back the ever present urge to argue. He nodded and let himself be fucked. He felt so small and safe in the embrace of the transformed sinner. One hand could palm his skull with ease and it made him shiver at the thought. How rarely he let himself be physically manipulated. Alastor always made the circumstance so rewarding it was impossible to turn down.

Stomach tightening, he tried to remember how it felt to have a vaginal orgasm. Tried to recall how he reacted. For some reason as you reminded him to take deep breaths, he stumbled over his peak.

When he felt Luci spasming around his cock Alastor bit back his moan to finally push the rest of himself in. It was borderline cruel to wait for that moment, when he knew Lucifer would be the tightest and least pliable but the feeling of such soft flesh rolling over his knot made him slip out of his mind entirely. His knot was pulled in, his darling doe’s cunt felt like it was sucking him deeper with every twitch.

Luci pushed himself up, muscles screaming to move as he shook from the full body euphoria of being stretched and stuffed so intensely.

The looseness of his waning orgasm radiated out from his core. Without intention, Luci’s wings expanded as the relaxation made it to his shoulders. In a flurry of feathers and low growls Lucifer’s wings were seized in cutting claws and dragged down. Instinctively he pulled back, horns out for the second time that day as he glared down at Alastor, arm cocked back to strike at the insolent demon. But Alastor’s smile was entirely absent, brows knit together in a confusing display of angry panic that brought a pause to Luci’s fist.

Quickly, you sat up and set a soft hand on his chest, “Heeey baby, it’s okay. Luci isn’t going anywhere.” Slowly, setting the pace for where you wanted his breathing to come down to, your fingers raked through his chest fluff. “He was just showing his buck how good he makes him feel. Loosen your hands, Alastor. I promise your pretty doe won’t fly away. Right, Luci?”

A pleading gaze from you to please be patient with the afflicted deer. A stiff nod from the king.

Luci watched as a flicker of embarrassment fell over Alastor’s face, ears pressing back and down to his skull, and his fists around the wings opened.

When Alastor’s black and red eyes locked on Luci’s red and yellow, the king blinked away the warning display and brought his head down. Cautiously, refusing to withdraw his horns completely yet but letting his wings dissipate, he bared his neck to the mess of a man beneath him. He felt the sigh before he heard it, Alastor’s hands returning to Luci’s body with a much calmer touch as he pulled the offered flesh into his mouth.

That intoxicating scent returned, making Alastor’s mouth flood with saliva. Lucifer let his body go slack back into Alastor’s embrace as his neck was nipped and sucked. He wanted to warn against marks, knowing he couldn’t lie if Charlie asked about them. But a little flame of pride lit him up in a not dissimilar way to Alastor earlier.

He hid his smile in the fluffy expanse beneath him, sighing as he felt a second release of Alastor’s cum fill him even further. He didn’t want Luci to go. He wanted him there, so much so he manhandled the devil to try and keep him close. How deeply satisfying it felt to be wanted. He’d surely tease Alastor later for it, but in that moment he felt full of honey and wine. Sweet and dizzy.

You relaxed again, letting Alastor’s arm come around you and tuck you against his side.

A blanket of trophies, two lovers of worth he couldn’t articulate surrounding him. Luci squeaked as Alastor twitched inside him with primal satisfaction. ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you all awoke some hours later from what you could only call a cock drunk bliss nap, there was little time to consider other needs like food and water.

Alastor felt frustrated at being able to fuck just one of you at once. He was visibly annoyed, ears twitching and tail pressed down over his ass. Luci, ever the clever if not poorly thought out angel, pulled your body onto his. Your back against his chest, his chin against your ear.

Luci wiggled his hips which made your own body move too.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful for two holes to fill, Alastor? I didn’t take you for greedy.”

“It’s a matter of pride.” Alastor shot back. Your legs fell to either side of Lucifer’s as his thighs spread.

His furrowed brow melted and rose as he returned to the warmth of Luci’s body. He watched your form bounce and jiggle with every thrust, a softness that made him swallow back the drool threatening to spill from his mouth.

Perhaps it was the rut, but he took far too long to realize he had a remedy to his problem.

The room darkened, the red of the day now a peerless black. You felt something small and thin press at your entrance gently before sinking in. Widening the further it went, you smiled through your moan as you realized Alastor had let loose his shadow arms.

Black and writhing tentacles of darkness that wrapped around Luci’s thighs and slid around your waist. A physical manifestation of his needs.

Finally, he could hear you both gasping beneath him. You watched through lusty tear filled eyes as Alastor’s form twitched and grew between your sets of thighs.

Antlers threatening to knock against the posts of your shared canopy bed as he sighed at the thought of breeding both of his mates.

Sooner than either of you had anticipated, Alastor leaned forward and lifted Luci’s body to allow him to drive his cock as deeply as it could go.

You felt Luci stiffen beneath you, his arms holding onto your scrambling as Alastor fucked his still inflating knot in and out of him.

Luci’s panting and pleasured cries into your neck was doing so much for you. Eyes closed, feeling that wet tentacle pumping out of you faster and faster and imagining how wide Luci was being forced apart on Alastor’s knot brought you to your second orgasm of the day. Alastor could smell your pleasure, your sweat and your slick flooding his senses as Luci’s fluttering hole numbed his mind to anything but the two of you.

The sound of slapping skin slowed as Alastor came with a growl into the headboard. He moved until his knot was stuck, letting himself moan out mumbled praises for you both as he flooded Luci’s womb.

The discomfort set in so quickly after the pleasure faded. Alastor’s cock tender and chaffed, Luci’s pussy sore and swollen, and your body and mind spent from the stress and pleasure of managing to keep both men civil and happy.

A bath sounded so good at that moment, but you knew Lucifer was attached to Alastor for a little while and that Alastor wouldn’t allow you to leave the bed yet.

He sat back on his haunches again, lowering his hips to let Luci’s body relax into the bed.

Alastor’s hands petted at your legs, his signature smile snaking across his face again.

Feeling your weight on him was as close to divine as he hoped to get again, and Luci was glad to be trapped around Alastor’s dick still. He held you tighter to him and nuzzled your neck. A a cozy feeling of being seen in the same look as you and not just as a background character to Alastor washed over him.

A perfect way to begin your long night and the even longer weekend ahead.

“Ah!” Luci piped up, “My tea.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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imababblekat · 13 days

Text

Simon sees you sitting curled up in a chair, eyes peering lost at the sketchbook and computer before. He knows that look. It’s a look you often get when the team finally gets some time off, but you brain is stuck in this void of being unable to commit to any hobbies you once enjoyed. You told him about it once, it was offhandedly and you hadn’t delved much into it with due to still being fairly new and not wanting to bother the apparent cold stone lieutenant. Simon paid attention though, and this detail about yourself had been added to his mentail folder of his teammates.

A deep breath huffed out your nose, head drooping into your folded arms, when your ears picked up on the sound of light footsteps entering the kitchen area you resided.

“The usual?”, came Simons gruff voice, large hands reaching into the cabinet for your and his mugs.

“The usual.”, you mumbled in reply, staring at your phone and resisting the urge to start doom scrolling.

It was a battle you lost as you reached out to open an app and scroll mindlessly through its feed, the light clinking of Simon making you both tea behind you. You’re not sure how long he had taken, too lost in the endless information of peoples lives and other nonsensical things scrolling past your dulled eyes, not registering a thing you watched or read. At some point though, your phone had been snatched from your hands, replaced by a warm cup of your favorite tea, Simon pulling out the chair beside you to sit with his own.

You couldn’t even bother the smallest fuss at the large soldier for taking your phone, simpling taking a sip and then blindly staring into the liquid void.

“That bad today?”

You nod with a groan, putting your cup down to splay your hands out at the objects you once enjoyed before you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I thought maybe I was bogged down by knowing I had chores to take care of, but even after finishing those I still can’t get myself to do any of my hobbies!”

Simon sipped his tea, dark eyes glancing up at your downtrodden expression. You thought nothing of his silence, having known him for a while now that his silence was him listening. If he truly wasn’t interested, he would have left, hell he wouldn’t have even bothered to make you a drink.

“I just. . .”, you hold your head in your hands, “I don’t feel myself. I finally get a break, and I can’t do anything I wanted to do. What’s the point of having hobbies if every time I try one of them, I immediately become disinterested?”

The Brit beside you stares down into his own mug now, thinking on your words, a silence filling in besides the muffled sound of Johnny bellowing songs in the shower upstairs. Before, he wouldn’t give two shits about something like this, leaving you to figure it out or not all on your own. Of course, being apart of the 141 it was only a matter of time before you became apart of this oddly dangerous family of sorts, and Simon found himself caring for you just as much as he did for the other three, even if he ever expressed it.

“Maybe doing nothin’, is what you’re suppos’d do.”

You quirked a brow at him.

“You? Telling me to do nothing?”

Simon rolled his eyes, sitting back against the creaking old dinning chair.

“Yeah, shocker I know, but trust me, after years of doing this shit, sometimes you jus’ gotta kick ya feet up and do fuck all.”

You look back to your tea before taking another sip, thinking on his words. He had a point though. As frustrating as it was, wanting to engage in activities that would normally bring you joy, it was only natural to not always be motivated to do them, especially with the grueling type of work you all did.

“Welp,” you shrug, closing your lap top shut and throwing your sketchbook atop it, “guess I’m doing fuck all today.”

A light, deep chuckle came from Simon, him always finding it kind of funny when outlandish vocabulary came from your lips. You never came off as the type to say such words, but then again you also didn’t exactly fit into the picture of the intimidating guys you were so close to.

“Good. Relax, ya earned it.”

You smile up at Simon, your eyes crinkling in the corners something that brought him some warmth.

“We earned it, Simon.”

#not proofread #some self comfort writing cuz I suck at not procrastinating things I like #and I feel bad cuz it’s a struggle to be productive #more self-indulgent #self indulgent #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #tf 141 x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader fluff

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yayll · 13 days

Text

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~

Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.

"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."

You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.

"What is it?"

"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"

A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.

"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.

You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.

"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."

"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."

He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.

You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.

"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"

He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.

"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."

He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.

"Sit, please."

You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.

Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.

When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.

"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.

You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.

"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."

He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.

"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.

"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."

His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.

"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."

Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.

"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."

He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.

"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"

He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.

"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."

Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.

"Every single night after?"

"Every. Single. Night. After..."

"As if we were together?"

"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.

Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.

His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.

"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."

"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.

His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.

"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"

You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.

"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."

He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours

"... I know you would. You always do."

You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.

"Do you know something I don't?"

He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.

"I know everything, silly.~"

The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.

#i know this is over 2k words i HAVE A STORY TO TELLLL IM SORRRYYYY #i need to go into visceral detail abt needy desperate beastzai OKAY. HES DISGUSTING FOR U #THAT REQUIRES MUCH PATIENCE ANF WORDING #beastzai is a mix of all my fav dazais obsessive rlly sad and rlly fucking into you #i'm actually am so sorry i hope u guys like this #when that anon gassed me up so much abt beastzai i said let me make u regret that #i love u anon........... i need a nap and a beastzai body pillow #also i canonically confirm u did in fact freak it all night after the end #hinting at beastzai and reader being in love in every universe didndjejd ....God #lets let beastzai have fun and kiss a little bit okay #in a way this could be a spiritual successor to my first beast dazai drabble................#bungou stray dogs #dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd dazai #dazai imagines #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #beast dazai #beastzai #bsd beast #beast dazai x reader #gn reader #fanfic #beast!dazai #bungo stray dogs beast

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morinuu · 10 months

Text

commoner trouble

kyouya x fem!reader (1k words)

black locks fell on kyouya's set of charcoal orbs, his monolids hidden behind his glasses from the angle you were sitting. the couch began to feel uncomfortable, as if something were calling you to stand up and gently take his glasses in your hands, caressing his hair and letting him rest his head on your chest.

his eyes would finally relax and his body would ease in your arms as he'd take deep breaths to finally let go of all the stress that managing a host club and his studies brought him.

he'd sigh and relieve his eyes for a couple of minutes while you caressed him, before inevitably having to end his break and return to work.

he would. in your fantasies.

you sat in the host club's purple couch, uncomfortably staring at your classmate who was writing something on his laptop on a desk not too far away from the rest of the hosts. this was your routine.

you'd go to the club after classes, sit there for some minutes, waiting and waiting for your turn to try and make an appointment, but there was always some type of shitty excuse from the man.

"our hosts have different price ranges, you wouldn't be able to afford an appointment with me, ms. y/n." you didn't ask how he knew of your financial matters.

"i'm afraid we're all booked the entire week." his voice echoed almost void of all emotion, before he turned to another girl who wanted to re-schedule with a smile on his face.

"our prices went up this week." they hadn't, but you wouldn't know since he never actually told you the prices at all.

one stupid excuse after another and another - and you finally stopped looking for a logical explanation for his hostility. 'it's fine, you'll get your turn one day.' you told yourself each time.

you didn't ask for much really, just an appointment with ootori kyouya like every other client of his. but you hadn't considered the difference between you and them - class.

in all honestly, at first, kyouya had been indifferent to the new honour student of ouran, until he found her staring at him shamelessly throughout their classes together. he figured she'd stop soon, probably just fascinated by his looks.

but it's been four months and you won't give up.

it's not like you're harassing him. you keep your distance in class as not to make others notice, you don't ask for his help in subjects where you could seriously use it - mainly german - and you don't approach him during lunch either.

just at the host club, where you were allowed to ask for his attention as long as you paid a fee. it wasn't unfair or a difficult request, just some tea and a conversation would quench your thirst to talk to the man, to actually engage in an intelligent conversation with him.

but alas, not only did your wallet have limitations, so did kyouya's patience.

he found you... unsophisticated. vulgar, maybe improper?

he didn't express his distaste for your clothes, which were trying to replicate a male ouran school dress code since you didn't even own a yellow dress. your black trousers and white dress shirt barely looked like they were of similiar material, because they weren't. your worn out sneakers hurt his eyes when they stood out against all the neat and polished pointy dress shoes of every other student.

to his elegant and privileged world respective, you were nothing but a pitiful woman, treated like charity by the school so the public can say 'the suoh family cares for the sad common folk!'

he didn't even stop to consider how similiar you could've been to haruhi, because haruhi - as much as he refused to admit it - was a dear friend. she was nothing like you, surely. she wasn't unkept, she was always groomed and wore the uniform that she'd been given.

no, your eyes from across the room looked nothing like haruhi's. yours expressed pure admiration for a man who never bothered to say hello unless he had to.

but he'd warmed up to the other commoner, so you two must live differently.

because your neighbourhood is much sketchier than the quiet area the fujioka's lived in. your clothes are much more worn out than haruhi's, much more washed too.

but it's not like you're apart of the club or their clientele (that one's because of him) so he can't check on your life much. it's not like he cares to check either, you're just unpleasant and he blames it on your wallet. surely that's what's ticking him off.

the minutes were passing and he knew he'd have to stand up and kick you out once more, like every day you came by the club. only this time, just as he raised his head to look at you and approach you again, you'd already started walking to the exit.

what? how come?

it didn't matter, you left on your own. maybe it was a sign that after four whole months you'd stop requesting him. he turned his attention back to his laptop, not wanting to go through the trouble to check if you were really gone.

until a couple minutes later he saw a hand slam down on his small table, with some 10,000 yen bills below the hand's fingers. his gorgeous, wide, gentle, doe-like perplexed eyes found yours in a matter of seconds and his breath hitched at your determined facial expression.

"i'd like to book an appointment for ootori kyouya this thursday." you muttered a bit nervously, as if you hadn't quoted the same line over and over since the beginning of the school year.

just as he want to reject you, you pointed to the money on the table. "it's enough. i know it is. and i know you're free." your tongue played in your mouth and you looked away, intimidated by the eye contact.

he didn't know how hard you'd worked just to save up barely enough money for an appointment. how hard you tried to keep up with your studies, your exploitative part time job and your housing bills. you were embarrassed at how desperate you were just for simple chat, but it didn't matter.

because kyouya ootori had finally accepted a 35 minute appointment with y/n l/n, and you couldn't be happier.

divider by @saradika

#ohshc #kyoya #kyouya #kyoya ootori #kyouya ootori #kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #ohshc x reader #ohshc fanfic

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astonmartingf · 6 months

Text

SLOWLY ; LH44

— after all the years you’ve been together with lewis as friends, you realize what lewis means to you

amgf mentions of break downs and panic attacks, crying, realizing feelings are overwhelming and it's just too much for reader but don't worry it's fluff 🫶 enjoy because wow i loved writing this, also tried my hardest not to make this like my other lewis smau and i hope i did that. anyways, enjoy!!! the next part we're going somewhere special 😉👍

masterlist

“Nico! You’re here at Lewis' party? I missed you so much, I have no one to talk to— Lewis is busy yet he’s always around. What if… what if I start seeing him in some type of way? Or am I drunk? I’m not drunk aren’t I? Maybe I am… a true friend wouldn’t have feelings for a friend right? OH MY GOSH! What if it was Lewis all along? I mean, I don’t mind, look at him? But… ARRGGGHHH! I have so much to say, but I can’t say it. Not to his face… I really think I’m starting to like—”

Do you have an unhealthy attachment to the voicemail Nico sent you four years ago of your drunken confession to admitting to having some type of feeling for your friend, Lewis Hamilton?

Yes.

Does Nico constantly remind you of the said confession four years after?

Yes.

Is it haunting your mind? It’s haunting your mind, soul, and heart— because as much as you hate to admit it, the feelings are starting to follow you, four years later. All your drunken word vomit to Nico was slowly following you throughout the years and it’s only then that you realize the culmination of all your deepest and darkest thoughts about Lewis.

That after all those years of friendship and platonic love… it might be him.

As time passes by you’ve fully integrated into yourself that Lewis would be an integral part of your life, in your formative years you stuck by each other up until the occurring present, and soon you figured out you’d still be friends with him in the future. He was always there, it was understandable.

But it wasn’t until you fully grasped that he was always there, and he might never go away.

“So have you thought about it?” Nico breaks your train of thought, sitting on the carpeted floor of his daughter’s playroom wearing tiaras and tutu skirts, playing tea party with the teddy bears Lewis gifted them last Christmas.

“I’m not thinking about Lewis.”

“That was an awfully quick answer, didn’t even mention him in the slightest.” You blink, dropping the “cup of tea” handed to you. “What did I say?”

Nico sighs in front of you, picking up the plastic tea cup, placing it back on the table, whispering something to his daughter before removing the wand from your left hand and whisking you out of the room.

“Is everything okay?” Nico asks, pulling one of the throw pillows into your lap, eagerly waiting for your response.

“It’s scary— these feelings I’m bearing. I don’t think I can handle it, I want them gone.” Your words are void of emotion, but your eyes tell a different story as tears start pooling your eyes, heavy and slowly out of breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

You shudder as Nico pulls your arms together to your side, forcing you to face him— you stare at his eyes, slowly blurring at the tears blocking your view. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t want it. It’s all too much for me, this— this feeling, it’s uncomfortable, I don’t like it.”

“It’s new, but it’s still the same. It’s still the same Lewis and he won’t ever change.” Nico tries to comfort you, but you’re spiraling way too quickly to make sense of it all.

“No it won’t! I like him, things will be different from then on, can’t you see? I’m ruining it all, and once Lewis realizes that he’ll leave me for being a bad friend. It’s all my fault, I like him and I hate myself for it. I can’t believe it, all those years will end up with me being alone all because I like him. And now, I can’t even— I don’t want to look at him. I’m disgusted and disappointed at myself for even thinking that I have a chance, every moment I’m with him I look forward to the next, and it’s all new to me, I don’t like it Nico!”

You catch his daughters peeking from the playroom, fully unaware of the volume of your voice. They probably didn’t expect their aunt to break down in their house on a random weekday, yet here we are. You laugh bitterly, wiping the tears in your face. “I’m scared Nico, I don’t know what to do.”

Nico holds his breath out nodding slowly, comforting you, “Yes, I understand… it all seems scary, these big feelings— it’s new. But, remember it’s still Lewis. I don’t think he would want you to be all alone as well.”

It was the last straw, the cumulation of all your feelings summed up to one— after Nico left and Lewis being avoidant about the situation, it left scars around you. You realize not to bring it up, and thinking of your own feelings and over analyzing down the “what could have beens” in your head, you went ahead of your own thoughts, slowly pulling you in a never ending spiral of destruction.

“I’m home! And guess who I met on the way?” Watching you bursting into tears on the couch in front of Nico, still adorning the tutu skirt and plastic tiara on top of your head was not the sight Lewis and Vivian were expecting when they came in.

Nico put his hands out defensively, “It’s not my fault— okay maybe I was part but I promise you I was just helping her. Not helping her cry, I just said some things that made her emotional— okay no. It wasn’t my fault I promise you, YN was just saying something and I said it wasn’t true, I just assured her. I promise I didn’t make her cry, she did that to herself.”

You burst into laughter all whilst rubbing your eyes dry, “Hi Vivian… Lewis— I swear it wasn’t him. It’s all just me being silly.” Nico gave you a pointed look, assuring you your feelings are very much valid and not silly, but you just shake your head in dismissal.

Lewis approached you, slowly wiping the tears of your face and pulling onto the strings of your heart. If you had any more tears left to cry you would’ve bursted then and there again, but you wouldn’t do that in front of Lewis. “Are you sure? Or are you just saying that because we’re here? I’m sure Vivian doesn’t mind if you tell us the truth, did Nico make you cry?”

You laugh resting your face onto the palm of his hands, “He did make me cry, but I assure you it was out of the goodness of his heart. It was either me crying or possibly passing out, I’d rather cry my heart out.” The mention of almost passing out leaves Lewis more worried than Nico being the reason for your tears.

“Darling why? Are you tired? Do you want to go home?” Go home. Home being Lewis’ apartment just a floor above Nico's. As much as you want to rest, close your eyes, and forget about all of this, you couldn’t bear being alone with Lewis yet.

You shake your head, “No… I want to play with the kids, Nico pulled us out to talk for a moment and then I had this breakdown, I want to stay I promise. It might help distract me from my own thoughts.”

Lewis, still wary, lets you off to play with the kids as he helps Vivian and Nico in the kitchen. “So… care to tell us what happened?” Nico presses his lips into a thin line before shaking his head.

“Sorry but this is about YN, if you want to know you ask her yourself, I doubt she wants to talk about it yet but don’t worry. It’s nothing alarming, I promise you— she just needs time to think about it more.”

Not convinced, Lewis presses on the issue, “She’s okay though?”

Nico laughs, “She’s more than okay! I think it’s only going to get better from here on. It was just an enlightening time for both of us, more for her, but don’t worry Lew, things are looking up from here on.”

Sitting with the kids as you continue your interrupted tea party, they shower you with hugs and comforting words before instructing you how to play tea party with them. Peeking from the door of the playroom, you catch a glimpse of Lewis in the kitchen with Nico, not before sending a small smile and waving in your direction.

You smile back at him, and to yourself. Nico was right.

It’s still Lewis— things may be looking fast for your feelings, but one thing’s for sure. You’ve been slowly falling for Lewis since then.

#f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Summer Breeze 7

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

Andy returns in the afternoon. The day is a void in your mind. You don’t feel as if any time has passed at all yet you know you’ve been waiting for hours. Sitting, pacing, watching. You’re dizzy, almost dazed, as you can’t settle enough to stay still.

As you stare at your father’s unmoving body, your ears filled with the noise of pumping and beeping machine, Andy nudges you gently. He holds out some clothes. Yours. You recognise the rainbow striped shirt and faded denim. You thank him and shuffle out to change. You know you need to put something on. Your skin is speckled in goosebumps in the ever-frigid hospital.

You pull on the shorts and the shirt and ball up your bikini, keeping the hoody slung over your forearm. You go back to your dad’s room and offer Andy his sweater. He waves you off and tells you to keep it. His blue eyes focus on the bed, a furrow between his brows.

“Anyone come check on him?” He asks.

“The nurse, a couple times,” you answer. “No change.”

“Mm, alright,” he rubs the side of his nose, “I got your bag in the car. Tried to grab what I could.”

“Oh, my phone?” You wonder.

“Yeah, uh, I popped it in there. Wanna go get it?” He looks up at last, his irises almost glazed over.

“No, I don’t need it right now,” you shrug. You don’t have the energy for all that.

“You call your mom?”

He’s such a dad. It almost feels good though. Having someone looking out for you.

“Yeah, she’s... she can’t come,” you bite your lower lip and try not to show your agitation.

“Mm, yeah, I know they weren’t on the best terms,” Andy rasps. “You hungry at all? I walked past the cafeteria. Could at least grab a coffee? Since you don’t drink, I think they have tea?”

You consider him then peek over at your dad. What’s a couple minutes. You’re starting to suffocate in here. You nod. There’s nothing else to do but wait.

Andy gestures you ahead of him and catches up to you outside the room. He guides you to the elevator and takes you a few floors down. He leaves you to sit at a table and heads off in search of food. You cradle your head in your hands as you stare at the scratch surface of the table.

You jolt up as he clatters a tray down across from you. He gives an apologetic smile and dolls out the goods.

“Chamomile,” he places a paper cup in front of you, “tylenol.” He puts the travel tube down, “my head is splitting, how about yours?”

“Uh, yeah,” you take the pills and rattle them before pushing down on the childlock, “actually, it kills.”

You toss back the tablets as he continues to sort out the tray, “jello,” he puts a cup in front of both of you, “turkey club? That’s the special, I guess, and... coleslaw.” He lifts the top slice of bread on his sandwich and curls his lip, “not much colour to it.”

“Food,” you say flatly and blow over the chamomile. “I’m not very hungry but... tired.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “we’ll get through it. Just need to be patient.”

He sounds sure, but compared to you, anyone sounds like they know what they’re doing. You sip from the tea and trade the cup for a spoon and the container of jello. Grape. You eat it mechanically. It tastes like cough syrup.

Andy takes small, tight bites. Several times you catch him staring. You shift and leave the jello unfinished.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing,” he says as he swallows, “I just... you okay? Aside from the obvious?”

You frown, “I don’t know.”

“You look... a little... well, I slept like shit too.”

“Oh, hah, yeah, I probably look like crap,” you snort.

“Wouldn’t say that,” he counters. “Just tired. I...” He takes a breath as he measures his thoughts, “you’re a good daughter.”

“Mm, I guess. I don’t know,” you lift the sandwich. The bread is stale. “Always felt like a burden but he did what he could.”

“He’s going to wake up,” Andy promises, “but you can’t take care of him if you don’t care of you. So eat...” he looks down, “I know it’s not gourmet but like you said, it’s food.”

“Step up from one dollar ramen,” you mutter.

You eat all but the dry crust and only have a taste of the tangy coleslaw. You finish the tea before Andy dumps the remnants in the trash and returns, standing with a hand on his hip. You get up and zip the hoodie as you hug yourself. You head back to the elevator, anxious to get back to your dad.

As you enter his room, there’s a nurse by his bed. You see his hand move, the tube tangled at his wrist, and you rush forward. Andy stays by the door as you stop by the bed rail.

“Dad,” you babble, “dad...”

“He’s still a bit groggy,” the nurse says as she holds a styrofoam cup with a straw up to him. Your dad growls and turns his head away, “come on, Douglas, you need to drink.”

“Mm, mm,” he continues to evade the straw. His eyes bulge out as he looks at you.

You lean forward and your heart throbs, “dad?”

“Eh, kiddo,” he gurgles out and smiles, then cringes and falls back.

“Dad!” You exclaim.

“Douglas, come on and drink,” the nurse pleads then glances over at you, “here,” she holds out the cup, “get him to finish that, alright?”

You nod and accept it shakily. You call to your dad again and rub his arm, “hey, dad, you want some water?”

His eyes skim back to you and he squints. He sits up as straight as he can and you put the straw to his lips. He drinks, just a little, and the nurse exhales.

“I’ll be back,” she says before she flits off.

Andy approaches in her absence and you coax your dad to keep drinking.

“Hey, Doug, good to see ya,” he pats your dad’s hand gently, though his voice is barely more discernible than your father’s.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #series #drabble #defending jacob #summer breeze

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pars-ley · 2 months

Text

I...do? (part one)

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x f. reader (ft Jung Hoseok briefly) Summary: Based on the film ‘the proposal’ - You hate your boss. He's rude, arrogant and conceited, not to mention works you to the bone, day and night. So walking into one of his meetings, where he announces your upcoming wedding, you being shocked is the least of it. But when he threatens the career you've worked so hard for, can you still say no to his proposal? Genre: Enemies to lovers au / CEO au / fake dating au / colleagues to lovers au / co-workers to lovers / series / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 18+ (future chapters will be nfsw) Warnings (per chapter): blackmail / manipulation / rudeness / angst W/C: 2.9k Banner: @shadowkoo you are amazing Beta: @beomcoups and @cherrysoulth thank you so much! Notes: So this has been in the works for about four fucking years now and I’ve decided to do this as a series and i’m finally ready to start posting! Sorry to anyone who has been waiting. This was originally for the 'spring will come again' event with @bangtanarmynet Please, share and comment, it will really help with motivation for writing, which I have been lacking for a while. Thank you so much for reading! Taglist: @ladyartemesia @taestannie @somewhereofftheglobe @moonchild1 @taebangtanbabe @leedoesntknaur @siadreams @m-1234

It’s a lovely spring morning; the trees are green, and the flowers are beginning to bloom. The sun is out and the air is fresh. You have one of the most beautiful views in the city outside your office, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the new growth and warm weather. You’re relaxing into your seat, basking in it…that is, until the elevator down the hall stops on your floor, and you know exactly who's about to step off. You type out your usual frantic message to everyone in their office cubicles in the expanse between the elevators and his office, which you sit directly outside of, and hit send.

Y/n: Satan is entering the gates of hell

Everyone rushes frantically back to their desks. Hushed whispers sound across the void, filling the atmosphere with nervous energy. The elevator dings and silence is instant. You watch as your boss struts along, ignoring everyone else’s presence entirely.

“Good morning, sir,” you remark with a polite smile as soon as he reaches your desk, to which he strides past you, straight into his office. Resisting the urge to make a sarcastic remark, you focus back on your work, but your irritation grows towards him. Your patience is already thin this morning.

Discreetly, you glance in his direction, noting the way he sits behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, leg crossed casually over the other, and flipping through document pages with an arrogance you can see, even from here. You absolutely hate how good-looking he is. Why does someone so infuriating get to look like that? It somehow makes his whole attitude even worse.

His low voice calling your name snaps your attention. "Get in here."

Sliding your chair out from under your desk, you follow orders.

“Yes, Mr Kim, ” you respond, standing with hands clasped in front of you. Your posture and all-black attire, particularly the skirt, were requested by him.

“Where was my usual tea this morning?” he asks, eyes unwavering from the pages he's absorbed in.

“The shop was closed this morning, sir, and I thought it best not to go to the other one, as you told me their tea 'looks and tastes like noodle soup.'” Your heart races with annoyance, as you chew the inside of your lip, attempting to hold back any smart-arse remarks.

I’ll tell you where I’d like to put your tea, sir, I’d shove it right up your-

“Then, what is this?” He points to the mug you left on his desk in replacement, a look of disdain twisting his face.

“That’s the tea I made for you, Sir.”

His eyes meet yours for a second with a hard stare. “Right, well next time, how about...don’t.”

Your teeth clamp together, jaw tensing as you struggle to bite back your retort, instead opting to take the tea and down it right in front of him. The hot liquid burns your throat as it slides down uncomfortably, and you carefully place the mug back on his desk, wiping the corners of your mouth with your fingertips.

"Is that better, sir?" You smile sweetly, but it’s written all over his face that he knows it’s not genuine judging by the glare he throws your way.

Your stomach somersaults nervously, worrying you've gone too far before his eyes fall back down to his paper.

“I have an unscheduled meeting in twenty minutes, it’s important, so make sure I am not disturbed by anyone. Are we clear?” He meets your eyes again, the intimidating aura he radiates hitting you fiercely.

“Y-yes, Mr Kim. Should I delay the ten o’clock meeting then?”

“You’re a smart girl; figure it out.”

He looks back down at his work, seeming bored of your presence, but you stand there aghast as to what you can reply to that without getting fired.

“Get out.” He waves a hand, dismissing you.

"Right away, sir." You bow dramatically before leaving and closing the door, forcing yourself not to slam it and wishing you could go and scream into a pillow.

Mr Kim Taehyung can kiss your arse.

Sitting back down at your desk, searching for anything to get your mind off the frustratingly rude man, when your mobile phone rings, surprising you. Even more so when you see it's your mum.

"Yes, mama, I'll be down this weekend," you say quietly into your phone once you're finally able to get a word in. Keeping your voice low to avoid your slave driver of a boss hearing your personal call.

Your mother’s squeal makes you giggle. "Like I'd miss my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary celebration."

"How long are you staying for this time? It's been too long since I've seen my baby!" she stresses.

You can't help the smile that tugs at your mouth. "I know, mama, I'm still working on that."

"You need to tell that boss of yours that enough is enough before he ends up working you to the bone!" Her disapproving tone makes you feel at home.

You see Mr Kim heading your way, "Hmm-mmm, listen, ma, I've got to go; I'll see you this weekend. Love you." You hang up abruptly and get straight back to typing.

"Personal calls should be taken at personal times," he says firmly, heading off down the hall.

Heat flashes up your chest, and your attempt to bite down a retort wavers, "That would mean me being allowed a personal life, sir, " you call after him.

His steps falter for a brief moment before continuing on with not another word or so much as a glance in your direction.

You swallow and let out the breath you didn't realise you'd been holding, envisioning hurling your phone at the back of his head. I wonder how hard I'd have to throw it to knock him unconscious or to at least give him a concussion.

Taking a long breath and trying not to grind your teeth, something that has become a habit lately and focusing back on your workload.

A short while later, Mr Kim is sitting in his unscheduled “important” meeting, meaning you could blissfully get on with paperwork without interruption. However, glancing up from your computer, you notice how tense and somewhat uncomfortable Mr Kim looks, something most uncharacteristic of him. So it does not surprise you when your work phone vibrates loudly at your desk. Looking down, you see the message "Save me," sent from him, your usual code system to get him out of something he really doesn't want to be part of anymore.

Getting up from your desk and striding across the space, you knock quietly on the door before entering.

"Sir, you have an urgent call on--"

"Ah, here she is," Mr Kim beams at you, a sight that is not only shocking because of how rare it is but also how breathtakingly gorgeous his smile is. You stand there frozen in your spot, unsure what has caused this sudden change in his mood. "No need to stand on ceremony, sweetheart; Mr. Jung is well aware of our upcoming nuptials."

You stare at him blankly, wondering if he's perhaps having some kind of stroke and considering whether or not you should call an ambulance. He comes over to your rooted feet by the door, and before you can say anything, his arm winds around your waist and guides you over to his desk. You're hyper-aware of his hand on you in such an intimate manner and it infuriates you, boiling your blood liquid hot in your veins. It feels like everything's moving in slow motion while you attempt to piece together all the chaotic thoughts happening in your mind, but nothing makes any sense.

Upcoming nuptials? Hell would have to freeze over more than once for you to be hitched to a man as rage-inducing as him. In fact, you'd rather be a miserable, shrivelled-up spinster living with a household full of cats than walk down an aisle where he's waiting for you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, and please, call me Hoseok." Mr Jung stands up and shakes your hand, offering you a dazzling grin. You don't fail to notice his suspicious gaze raking over you and your boss. "So, a wedding, that sure is exciting, huh?" he asks you, raising an eyebrow as he waits for your response.

You feel Mr Kim's hand dig into your waist, sparking you to say, "Yes, very. Who doesn't love a wedding?"

Hoseok laughs. "It's true, they are such joyous occasions. Are you prepared? Is everything set, I mean?"

Before you can say anything, you hear your boss's baritone voice beside you, sending vibrations through your body and muddling your mind even more. "There are still a few things here and there to take care of, but I have faith it will all be done in time."

"Perfect." The man smiles at you. "So your families know about this wedding?"

Hell, I didn't even know about it, so they definitely don't.

"I don't have any family; both my parents died years ago, no siblings or grandparents alive," Mr Kim admits, voice impassive. You can't help but be surprised by this new piece of information. You’re unsure if that was true or part of his weird ruse, but your heart tugs a little at imagining someone not having anyone, even someone as vile as him.

"Oh, I am sorry," Hoseok offers, "and what about your family?" He aims at you.

"We were planning on telling her family this weekend," Mr Kim interjects. “It's her parents' wedding anniversary, so we thought we'd go up there for the bank holiday and surprise them, didn't we, sweetheart?"

You clench your teeth together to stop your mouth from popping open in shock. He squeezes you closer to his side, a movement that has you tensing your jaw in an attempt to keep the searing in your veins down to a minimum.

"Yes, yes, we are," you add, forcing a smile.

"So what happens now?" Mr Kim asks.

You glance up at him, then at Hoseok, who seems to be scrutinising your every move. You resist the urge to squirm uncomfortably in Mr Kim's grasp.

"Well, you'll both have to come in for an interview at some point. Provided you both pass this stage and I deem this marriage legitimate then, we'll fill in the necessary paperwork, you'll no longer be deported and your new visa will be valid."

You no longer hear the words being said, everything becoming muffled and moving in slow motion. Deportation!? Legitimate marriage!? That's why he's made this up, so he can stay in the country.

You feel your stomach drop to your feet, heavy, yet threatening to shoot up and out of your mouth, decorating his office carpet.

"Great. Is there anything else you need from us, Mr Jung?"

He taps his chin and stares at you quizzically. "Just make sure neither of you are lying, then we'll have no problems. A fine and prison time is not to be looked at lightly."

What!? You laugh nervously. "People actually get sent to prison for that?"

He nods. "Sure, it happens all the time. You could face up to five years in prison and a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and yet people still think that they can trick us." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Anyway, I'll be sending you both a letter about when and where your interview will occur, most likely in a few weeks, I look forward to seeing you both then."

You shake hands before he's gone and both of you are rooted to the spot, staring after him.

Soon enough, Mr Kim moves back around to his desk, flicking through his papers, his eyes focused as if nothing out of the ordinary has just happened.

You stand there frozen, waiting for some kind of explanation, and when nothing comes, you speak up, "Excuse me, sir, but what was that?"

He sighs as if bored by your presence and continues to focus on the files in front of him. "They were going to fire me once I got deported and give Mr Park my job."

You stare at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Don't worry, we'll get married and get a quickie divorce. It will be over in no time."

You feel like your feet will surely collapse from the weight of this burden that has suddenly become yours. Without asking or consenting, you've ended up in a situation you're unsure how to deal with or get out of.

"Sir," you finally speak, breaking through your stunned silence and swallowing the burning you feel rising into your throat. "I cannot marry you."

Finally, he drops his papers and meets your panicked eyes. "Listen, you don't really have a choice; if you don't, I'll fire you and ensure that any new job you apply for will have zero interest in hiring you. I'll make something up so terrible you'll be blacklisted, and where will that leave you, after all the hard work you've put in during the last three years? Hmm?"

You stare into his cold, dark eyes and know there's no hint of a lie or an exaggeration in his words.

“All of those late nights runs to the grocery store for me, all the weekend calls and late night working will have been for nothing.”

You struggle to find the words, feeling your world crashing in on you and smothering you beyond belief. Feeling yourself being pushed against a rock and a mountain with nowhere to escape, when all your legs want to do is run.

You suck deep breaths into your lungs.

He would ruin your career and everything you've worked so hard for. In one fell swoop, your life would be over. For the last three years your job has been everything, not allowing an ounce of a social life; no holidays and no relationships, nothing has existed outside of your job.

Not to mention, how could you afford your apartment if you had no job? You'd have to move back home with your parents to small-town life...the thought made your stomach churn, that was more frightening than anything.

"If I do this, I'm taking a big risk here, so I'm going to need some assurances."

He smirks, sinking back into his chair and folding his arms across his chest. The material of his blazer stretched across his bicep muscles, giving him an even more intimidating edge.

"I wasn't aware you were in a position to make demands."

Your hands clench into fists at your sides, longing to make a connection to his perfectly chiselled jaw, as anger bubbles inside the deepest pit of hatred you have for this man.

"I could go to prison! You're not asking me to go on a business trip; you're asking me to marry you so you can stay in the country! So, you either give me what I want, or I quit here and now, and bye-bye, Mr Kim, hello, Mr Park." turning towards his office door, your face flushes with angry heat. Feeling brazen and reckless, two can play at this game and if you are going to do this, you are damn sure you're going to make it worth your while.

"Wait," he says quickly.

Glancing back, you watch the smugness on his features slowly die as he realises how serious you are. "What is it you want?"

"A promotion. Not a bullshit one you make up so I can continue assisting you either."

He sighs and massages his temples. "Ok, ok, fine. How about the head of a department?"

You've wanted that since you started at this company; ever since you were hired, that has been your focus and the only thing getting you through this role.

"Hm, which department?" You act coy, knowing there's only one answer you want to hear.

He rubs his face and groans, his cool, calm exterior well and truly forgotten. "Design. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Taken aback by how he could have known that you pause for a moment before composing yourself once again. "Yes. I want it in writing and signed by you."

"Fine."

You nod, feeling a triumphant bloom expand in your chest.

"Are we done here?" He asks.

"Ask me nicely."

His hands come down hard on the desk; an exasperated look withers his face. "What?"

"Ask me nicely to marry you."

His mouth pops open, closes, and opens again. His cheeks flush, and the sight makes you smile. Who would have thought something so simple would make him blush?

"That's ridiculous."

"Ok, goodbye, Mr Kim; I wish I could say nice knowing you." You turn and push his office door open.

"Alright," he calls. "Just….shut the door."

You can hear the pleading in his voice, knowing how desperate he is and wondering how much you should take advantage of that. You do as he says, step back into the room, and watch with unashamed amusement as he stands up and rounds his desk, closing the gap between you rather sheepishly.

He takes a deep breath as his eyes stay fixed on your blazer's lapels. "Will-"

"On one knee, please." You interrupt.

His cheeks darken as he prepares to argue, but he second-thinks as his eyes flit desperately between yours. He slowly sinks down onto the ground at your feet and plasters on a fake and yet still dazzling smile, "Will you, please, marry me?" he finally says, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

For a moment, you enjoy the sight of him on his knees in front of you, looking up through thick eyelashes, but your abhorrence of him stops your mind from going any further.

"Fine," you reply with a smirk as you walk out, leaving him staring at your back. If you are doing this for him, you sure as hell are going to make him pay for it.

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