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#there were supposed to be more background work on both
nie7027 · 23 hours
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Hot take here but...
Like I know this is Tumblr. This is the autism site.
So of course I knew everyone would side with Laios on this and empathize more with him but its driving me insane how everybodys saying Toshiro was completely on the wrong here and he should have communicated better and talked about his grievances with Laios WHEN THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS IS THEY WERE BOTH ON WRONG HERE.
LIKE THERES A REASON CHILCHUCK BRINGS UP HOW LAIOS SHOULD WORK ON HIS SOCIAL SKILLS A COUPLE OF EPISODES AGO/JUST BEFORE THIS HAPPENS?
like I know most of you don't like it but social cues ARE a part of society culture. Social cues ARE a form of communication.
In fact they were made to facilitate communication.
They were made so everytime Alice and Bob annoy each other they don't have to go and have a heart to heart when a simple gesture can have the same effect.
In fact sometimes better because sometimes addressing something with words makes it come out stronger/ruder than it is.
And sometimes just like you have problems understanding social cues some people have problems speaking, finding the way to words their thoughts/feelings correctly.
Specially among strangers where you don't know the others personality or how they could react to your words.
That's where social cues, that are general rules the majority of people have agreed on, work. To facilitate convivence.
And yeah there's an argument to be said about how you are supposed to know them if they are unspoken rules and the thing is YOU LEARN THEM THROUGH SOCIAL INTERACTION, through living in a society.
Just like gender norms and the like you don't learn them in school during a boring lecture where a professor lists them on the board. You learn them through interaction and repetition, throught observing your peers. Just like learning to talk and walk and other stuff. Heck, your parents and other adults around are supposed to ease you into it.
And yes, it's not a perfect system. But nothing is.
The saying 'communication is the key' doesn't refer to just talking.
Social cues and other non spoken gestures are also another form of communicating. Equally as valid as all the others
There's beauty in talking and openly expressing your love to someone. Or your grievances.
But there's also beauty in grabbing someones arm or the you picking up your friend is uncomfortable due to the turnup of their mouth or the way they stand.
One isn't superior to other. They are supposed to complement each other
Laios and Toshiros mistakes were relying completely in one or the other instead a compromising and finding a middle point.
Toshiro should have expressed his annoyance at Laios.
And Laios should have picked better Toshiros signs of discomfort.
(All of this isn't even taking into account how they come from different cultures and shock it comes with it because others have talked better about it and I wanted to focus on this. On how even if they have from the same background Laios should have also been a fault.
Hell not only social cues even talking is affected by ones cultural background. What for me is normal could come out as rude for someone in Japan)
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yuwuta · 3 months
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RODEO STATION, 2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
A collection of you and Megumi through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 
content, warnings: childhood friends to lovers, canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique sort of delved into here
word count: 2.2k
part ii: you and megumi are ten, tsumiki is eleven, gojo is twenty-ish?, about six or seven months after gojo meets all of you, and adopts megumi and tsumiki. you can read part one here
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The moment that Satoru met him, he knew that Megumi was a little troublemaker and there was little he could do to stop that. Satoru didn’t mind for the most part, and he couldn’t blame the kid either—honestly, he was more surprised that Megumi didn’t routinely get himself into more trouble, but he supposes he has you and Tsumiki to thank for that. 
He’d naively believed that you and Tsumiki both played the role of anchoring maternal figure for Megumi, but it only takes a few weeks for Satoru to learn that it’s Tsumiki that serves as the anchor for you two. Satoru then earnestly wonders if you were bullying Megumi with the way you’re able to keep him under your thumb, but when Megumi adamantly refutes this with the nastiest, most offended scowl Satoru’s ever seen on a kid before, he backs off and reasons that this is just how your relationship with Megumi works.
And, as it turns out, Megumi is the only one doing any sort of bullying. He’s ten and Satoru has been to more parent-teacher conferences than any other parent has ever possibly attended in their lifetime. He didn’t even know that it was possible for kid his age to get kicked out of school, especially at this point in the year. There’s only three months left until summer vacation, so Satoru enlists Ieiri’s help in enrolling Megumi into public school to finish out fifth grade. She also reassures him that this separation from you and Tsumiki is temporary, and that you would all be able to attend middle school together again in the fall. 
The major problem then becomes that you all get dismissed at different times. You and Tsumiki used to end your days at the same time, but Tsumiki starts staying late to take piano lessons. However, this is remedied by the mother of a friend of Tsumiki’s, who drives her home afterwards; an older woman that Satoru becomes eternally grateful for. Even so, you’re dismissed thirty minutes before Megumi, and some shuffling has to be done to align your commutes. Satoru knows that the three of you took yourselves to and from school before he came into the picture, and that most kids your age are more than capable getting home on their own, but after you told him that some old man from the Kamo clan came to talk to you after school one day, he can’t help but to worry. 
Satoru isn’t your guardian, not in the way that he is for Megumi and Tsumiki, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel responsible for you—morally, financially, emotionally, and more importantly, for his own safety because he knows he’d have both Divine Dogs biting at his ankles if something curse-related happened to you and he didn’t do anything to stop it. 
You were currently under the care of your elderly great aunt who hadn’t a shred of cursed energy from what Satoru could tell. He had Principal Yaga do a background check, and found no other sorcerers in your immediate family, nor any traceable Kamo relatives, and more importantly, you didn’t possess any sort of Blood Manipulation technique. Satoru’s seen what you can do so far to control water, has even seen you give the Divine Dogs trouble in a gentle sparring match—you’re impressive, even at your young age, so he can understand why a powerful clan might see the potential in you, but the Kamo clan isn’t historically welcoming of outsiders. If you’re not related to them, he can’t fathom why any member would physically approach you. 
The old man never revealed his name to you, but Satoru’s certain it’s either a clan elder, or the current head himself; neither of which bring him any comfort. In the spirit of their traditional ways, he doubts anyone would actually try to harm you out in the open, but Satoru still wants to keep you on close watch for a little while. He thinks he’s the best man for the job. He’s quickly proven otherwise. 
He exorcises curses with a bit of hastiness and little tact in order to be there when you get dismissed from school. Ieiri says it’s creepy to follow you from a distance, but Satoru is just doing what he can to protect you. If somebody else is following you, he wants to see who they are. They’ll never approach or reveal themselves if he hovers next to you, and if you half the pride that Megumi has, you’d run him out of town if he ticked you off by playing overprotective big brother—so, instead, he positions himself far enough away to observe you, and close enough to defend if need be. 
He never needs to. 
For as wild and boisterous as you are with Megumi and Tsumiki, you follow a simple, quiet after school routine. You walk with Tsumiki and her friends to the west gate to drop them off at piano practice, then cross the street to buy a snack—this differs, but you always get a carton of strawberry milk—and then walk to the train station. It’s a ten minute walk from your school to the station, and a fifteen minute walk from Megumi’s school to the station, which is why Satoru doesn’t quite know how the kid manages to keep you waiting for only seven minutes on average when he already gets out of school thirty minutes after you. 
Once he gets over the initial shock, he can’t help but to be amused. He knows that when Megumi first changed schools, he started meeting you on the train, two stops later—at the one closer to his new school. But in the last week, Megumi has walked himself seventeen blocks east, at what Satoru guesses must be an inhuman pace, just to meet you at the station closest to you. 
When two weeks have passed since the unknown Kamo elder has contacted you, and no other incidents have occurred, Satoru resigns his position as perimeter watchdog. He has a bunch of missions to catch up on anyway, and he figures that you and Megumi are safe in each other’s care for now. 
A few weeks later, after catching up on his assignments, Satoru decides to check back in. He knows he doesn’t have to, but something in his stomach is telling him to. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the curse he fought earlier today had some kind of toxic blood that has him thinking the worst could happen to you, or getting a call that Megumi had been cutting some of his classes, or that he’s tired and delusional and worried and scared, or maybe it’s just his blooming maternal instincts telling him something is wrong, but he rushes to spy on your commute home. 
He’s late. Megumi isn’t with you, and you’re already on the train when he makes it to the station and he can sense two sources of cursed energy trailing way too close behind you just as the train doors shut. His mind is racing irrationally—is this an unusual move by the Kamo clan, or perhaps someone else? Word had certainly gotten around that he’d picked up Toji Fushiguro’s kid, plus another kid with immense cursed potential, and Satoru himself and the Gojo clan have more than enough enemies. Whatever it may be, he doesn’t take his chances, using his newly honed short-range teleportation skills to make it to the next station before the train can. 
He’s panting, thinking about every worst possible scenario at once, wondering how to best deal with whoever or whatever was targeting you, especially in such a crowded place, wondering if you’re safe, if Megumi was safe—why wasn’t he with you? Has someone already gotten to him, too? Was Tsumiki even at piano practice? Oh god, if he hasn’t already been kidnapped, Megumi is totally going to kill him if something happens to you. 
Satoru rushes onto the train as soon as the door opens, eyes wildly scanning for you through the crowd, ready to strike when he finally finds you—seated towards the back of the car, reading the book that Tsumiki had loaned to you, quietly, and both the black and white Divine Dogs sitting on either side of you. 
And Satoru has to laugh at himself. If he’d stopped for even a moment (or if he’d gotten more than two hours worth of sleep in the past three weeks trying to make up all his assignments), he’d have recognized Megumi’s residuals, would have recognized the energy of the dogs, and would have pieced together that there wasn’t a single threatening aura in the vicinity. 
Oopsies. 
“Gojo?” you call to him, not too loud as to not to disturb everyone else’s commute. “How come you’re here?” 
Satoru shuffles through the crowd and holds onto the overhead rail once he’s next to you. The white dog moves to settle underneath your short legs, blinking at him with disinterest. “Got off a little early today, thought I’d surprise you brats, that’s all,” he says, then motions to the dogs next to you, “Where’s Megumi?” 
You blink at him. Satoru knows you probably don’t believe him, but you spare him the embarrassment when you don’t push it further. “He had to make up a credit today, so he’s getting on at the next stop. Do you want a sandwich? They only had ones with peppers today, so Megumi won’t eat it, but Mr. Teuchi gave me two, anyway.” 
“What, is he allergic or something?” Satoru questions, accepting your offer, and the seat next to you when he starts to unwrap the sandwich. 
“No, he’s just picky,” you tell him, closing your book to unwrap yours, too. You’re quiet, taking your first two bites, before you turn to him again, “How did you know Megumi was missing?”
Satoru chokes. It gains him a few concerned stares, and even a pointed ear from the black dog, before he regains his composure. “Um... he tells me usually he follows you home from the other stop, that’s why.” 
“Then why didn’t you try to surprise us at the other stop?”
Satoru pauses again. Since when did ten year olds get so lippy and observant? “I did, but I was late. So I sort of,” Satoru leans down, crinkling the empty sandwich wrapper in his right hand and uses his left to beckon you towards him to whisper, “Teleported here.” He pulls back, prideful, and crosses his legs, “Pretty cool, right?” 
“So, why didn’t you just teleport to the first station when you realized you were going to be late?” You question, mocking his whispering tone when you repeat the word. 
“Hey, you think doing that kind of stuff comes automatically? I can’t just pop up anyplace at any time,” Satoru groans, a bit overdramatically, “Not yet, anyway. I’ll be able to do that soon.” 
You hum, kicking your legs happily as you take another bite out of your snack. “I think I get it. Megumi says it’s hard spreading out and controlling your cursed energy over long distances, but he’s been practicing hard. He can send the dogs way far away from him now.” 
“I see,” Satoru turns his chin down, eyeing the Divine Dogs with a gentle smile. He almost says that it’s easier to send shikigami on their own, especially those like Megumi’s, and particularly when you anchor them to another source of cursed energy such as yourself, but you look way too proud of Megumi for him to burst your bubble. He also declines to say that Megumi probably doesn’t send the dogs to you on days like this just for the sake of practicing. 
A crush isn’t quite exactly the motivation Satoru pictured when he told Megumi he’d have to work hard and get strong, but whatever works, works. 
Ten minutes later, the train comes to a steady halt. Megumi is the first new passenger on board, and unlike Satoru, he doesn’t need to turn his head wildly, every which way to find you. You’re like a beacon to Megumi, he easily finds the both of you in the last seats in the car, and steadily makes his way to you. 
Megumi greets you before he greets Satoru, taking the seat across and facing you before he turns to the taller man with a much less receptive frown, “What are you doing here?” 
“I believe the word you’re looking for is hello, Megumi,” Satoru teases, reaching across to ruffle his already unruly hair. Megumi grumbles, batting his offending hand away.
“Gojo ate your sandwich,” you chirp. 
“What?” Satoru yells, incredulous, “I did not. You gave it to me—tell him!” 
You have much more fun watching Satoru scramble than defending his honor. It’s only when Satoru gives his best pout that you admit to Megumi that you offered up his sandwich, consoling him with the fact that it included his least favorite ingredient and making it up by pulling out two cartons of strawberry milk for him. Megumi accepts them both with quiet thanks, cheeks growing pink to match the cartons, and you smiling widely when he takes his first sip. 
Satoru had a hunch those were for Megumi. So, this isn’t one-sided. Good for you kids. 
It’s another twenty-six minutes before it’s time for you all to get off the train. The Gojo-Fushiguro residence and your great aunt’s house are in opposite directions, but are both just a short five minute journey from the station exit. One you can certainly make on your own, and still, Megumi insists that you let the dogs walk with you and that he’ll release them once you’re home. 
“It’s good practice,” Megumi mumbles, shooing you on your way uphill, “I want to know how long I can keep them out, too.” 
You have that same look on your face that you had earlier, like you don’t quite believe Megumi, but just as with earlier, you don’t say anything, sparing Megumi and Satoru a formal goodbye and a wave before heading home. Satoru and Megumi turn to walk back to their own house, he can’t help but to smile every time Megumi turns his head to look back at your silhouette. 
Satoru decides that you’re not Megumi’s anchor, you’re the lighthouse that guides him to shore, a light that he follows with faith and reason; a safe haven that Megumi seeks to protect. Satoru can admire that, but he wonders what happened that could make the most unruly kid he knows pledge his allegiance like that. Megumi would have refused Satoru’s aid if he hadn’t agreed to let you stay in his life, and although he’d chalked it up to puppy love before, Satoru’s beginning to wonder if there’s anything he, or anyone, even could do to separate the two of you. 
Likely not, he concludes, when two weeks later, your class goes on a field trip and Megumi is the one who comes home exhausted and crashes onto the couch immediately. When Satoru asks, all he gets is a tired grunt; but shortly after Megumi falls asleep, he can feel a few extra shadows at his feet, and a glimpse of the white dog before she completely vanishes into the darkness. 
Satoru chuckles, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair before heading to the kitchen to make a snack for Tsumiki. If this is the rate that Megumi trains to keep his loved ones protected, then Satoru has no worries about him getting strong enough to keep up with him.
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slvttyplum · 2 months
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suguru giving you a massage and turning you on your back, inching closer and closer towards your inner thighs, getting more oil, and rubbing in between.
he loved the way your body felt under his fingertips, and your soft flesh was pushing into the palm of his hand with ease.
you went to suguru whenever you were feeling overwhelmed or had a tight knot somewhere in your body you couldn’t get, he would get it right out.
suguru said whenever you weren’t feeling good, you could just come to him and he'd get whatever you needed done with no charge, and you took that offer right away.
today your bad was feeling more strained and you couldn’t even focus on the task at hand, so you went right to him, and he got you right.
stripping off your clothes and lying on the slim table on your stomach.
he wastes no time pouring the warm vanilla scented oil onto your back and the back of your thighs; the sensation instantly cools you.
there were no words, yet you felt comforted and at ease in his presence.
“we’re going to start with your back, okay?” and you hum in response, your eyes closed, and you sink into the table.
his big, rough hands running over your now soft and oily skin, rubbing in the oil while simultaneously pushing his hands into your thighs, a soft moan slipping past your lips.
“you like that?” he says, leaning down by your ear, his soft, warm breath hitting your neck and startling you, a soft giggle coming out.
“yes, ugh, it’s like you were blessed with these perfect hands.” and that’s when he heard bells go off in his head.
once he turned you over, he could feel your natural body heat mixed with the warm, scented oil, and it drove him crazy. you felt so good.
slowly slipping off the towel to “get to the good places.” and firmly rubbing over your stomach, then your thighs, then your ribs.
his touch was firm yet soft; it felt like you were floating on a warm cloud. the light music playing in the background, the scented candles, the low-light atmosphere—it was just what you needed.
suguru thought you needed something else to make you feel more relaxed, calm, and easy-going.
his hands pushing your thighs out and rubbing the inside of your thighs, your eyes still closed but a little conscious.
that’s when you felt his two fingers go into between your folds and then into your entrance. you couldn’t even react to how shocked you were.
wasting no time to start pumping his thick fingers inside of you, nice and slow, warming you up.
“i’m sorry… i couldn’t resist.”
a whimper slipping past your lips and his other hand coming up to rub your stomach, the ticklish yet soothing feeling tickling up your spine and head.
your hands were on both sides of the table, trying to stay stable while sucking in the air. it was starting to feel good the longer it went on.
was something wrong? were you supposed to stop him? how could you when he was working you like this and making you sink down onto the table beneath you?
“let it go; don’t hold anything back.” his eyes stuck on your core, his fingers turning and twisting inside of you, then finally curving up, the tip of his fingers now pressing down intensely on your sweet spot.
your thighs threatening to close, but he pushes the back open and looks you in the eye, a smile on his face as he keeps staring at you.
he loves that expression on your face. not knowing whether to moan and scrunch up your face or keep your mouth closed, and your eyes squinted with tears in the corner of your eyes spilling out.
that only wanted him to do more things but was going to take it easy; just feeling the inside of your wet walls clinging onto his fingers was enough.
“i want to make you feel good; let me do that.” his words pouring through your ear canal and your thighs cramping from you straining your stomach from how you were holding everything back.
your stomach releasing from straining yourself trying to keep it sucked in, your thighs trying to close but they don't, and your back arching.
moans coming out of your mouth with no hesitation, and your hands gripping the sides of the table.
suguru pumps a few times more before slowly sliding out his fingers and rubbing your clit a few times with your fluid.
leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your chest that’s rising up and down with great speed.
“come back next time, and i can give you more.”
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Sexism in TOS: Worst Offender, or Progressive in Retrospect in Comparison?
I see a lot of folks claim that TOS was the most sexist of the Star Trek shows by a landslide -- and while I agree that it definitely suffered from the sexism of the times, I also have other perspectives to share to give some food for thought.
I am of course not insinuating that TOS isn't sexist -- it is, but I have to ask folks to consider the breadth and depth of Berman's sexism in his run and ask yourself: Was Gene Roddenberry genuinely more sexist in his storytelling and delivery than Rick Berman?
I'm not telling you to feel one way or the other, but all I ask is that you hear me out and consider some perspectives and make your own balanced assessments. Nobody is obligated to share my opinion, but it means a lot just to have folks hear it and see their thoughts on the subject. So here is what I was originally responding to:
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Someone's response to this photo:
"Devil's advocate. This was a part of the popular form of cardio during the production time of TNG. Yes, it was heavily sexualised by men, but so is literally every other way women work out. Men have been caught taking pictures of women while trying to do dead lifts, running on tracks and working on sled machines. They post them online to share too. The fact is, there is no way a woman can be shown working out without it going there. And yeah,t hat includes the combat forms of workout they do in Star Trek. Just look at how Dax dresses when she spars with Worf. Yes, they're dating, but still, same goes when 7 does and any other female.
Aerobics routines like this were made dirty and cringy. This was what women wore then by and large. This is how the workout was done. We make it cringy."
My response to them:
"I respect your take, but I disagree on a few fronts.
The miniskirt was chosen by the TOS female cast, not the male cast, specifically requested by Grace LW and affirmed by Nichelle and Majel who would go on to vehemently defend the miniskirt over the years as comfortable and embraced by them.
Grace said it was comfortable and seen as a symbol of female sexual empowerment during the 60s and thought it would be a progressive garment (and turns out that it was, as it was later adapted and worn by male crew as a skant on TNG) -- FYI those were designed by a gay man and Gene approved them.
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This was also supposed to be Spock's TMP outfit:
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Literally lingerie.
We saw both Uhura (who saves Kirk in from Marlena Mirror Mirror) and Yeoman Landon (the first to initiate combat with a classic Kirk-esque kick to help the Captain being attacked in The Apple) carry out their combat training in their Starfleet uniforms without ever being made to change into any ridiculous workout gear.
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In fact, I'd argue Jim Kirk was sexualized even more than the ladies of the week on the show and I saw his naked body more than anyone else's on a fairly regular basis. He wore red yoga tights while topless in Charlie X while the women wore full length gymnastic suits that covered their entire body. If anything, it went out of its way to avoid sexualizing women practicing fitness in those scenes and instead focused on Kirk.
Gene confessed that he asked to have Shatner filmed in suggestive/provocative ways to "give something to the ladies", so he -- as he said -- liked to "film him walking away" or have him conveniently busting out of his shirts in just about every episode as it were, because Shatner apparently had great assets. LOL
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Gene made an effort to at least sexualize both if he was going to sexualize one, and he carried that attitude forward in wanting the m/m and f/f scenes in the background on Risa for TNG. He also insisted that the men and women wear skimpy outfits on THAT TNG planet. You know the one. LOL I mean the dudes even had on less than the women:
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Gene also gave permission to K/S shippers to have their conventions back in the 70s when he was asked for permission. Gene and Nimoy felt with all the skimpy outfits they had the ladies wear, why not let the ladies and gay men have their fun, too? It's how we ended up with moments like this:
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Yes, those are two people dressed up as Kirk and Spock's penises doing interpretive dance. Gene didn't give two damns. LOL
In my eyes, that was a very progressive take on Gene's part for the 60s. It was actually PARAMOUNT STUDIOS who had the big problem with K/S stories and vehemently tried to shut them down. Gene literally hired slash authors on his payroll and even had several slash stories/writers published in his official Star Trek books (The New Voyages & The New Voyages II).
I feel I saw Uhura and women in TOS engaged in more physical combat/altercations defending themselves that Troi or Bev were shown holding their own.
In fact, Kirk used to get furious when someone would "dress up" his female crew members without their consent (Trelane episode, Shore Leave episode) because like his male crew members, he wanted them to be treated professionally and to also have his male crew act professionally.
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Berman brought some of his own personal biases into Star Trek that in some ways regressed it. While TOS had blatant sexism and was called on it time and again, that show was made in the 60s -- a solid 21 years before TNG. We as a modern audience understood why some of it was cringe/sexist due to the time period -- look at any other media coming out in the 60s and Star Trek was miles ahead of what other shows were doing.
Compare that to Berman who was churning sexist stuff out when women like Starbuck and Scully were simultaneously on screen on other programs airing, and we had already had Sigourney Weaver and other strong women in Holywood playing respectful roles.
In my eyes, there was no need of the sexism seen in TNG but especially VOY and ENT. There was no excuse for it when other shows were writing women far better and a number of those weren't even set in the future like Trek was, making it age even faster due to having those dated perspectives frequently highlighted.
In the Center Seat documentary as well as "The Fifty Year Mission" book you will find cast members, writers and other studio alumni who attest to this. Some discussions from "The Fifty Year Mission":
"First, Berman was supposed to have been a real sleaze ball . . . According to Terry Farrel, he would go on constantly about how her breasts weren't big enough, how she should do something about it, and how his secretary was a good example to follow as she had huge breasts. She even had to have fittings to get larger bras, and that was all done at his behest.
Later Berman and Braga developed a name for Jeri Ryan's character prior Seven of Nine. They originally called the character "perineum" which if you look it up it is the area between the anus and the scrotum. Later they floated the name "6 of 9". I mean, what does it tell you about where these two were coming from in the development of this character if they had names like that put forward in all seriousness for her?"
Gene Roddenberry also had some of his own more progressive ideas for TNG cut or watered down by Berman. Roddenberry agreed TNG should have homosexual relationships and representation at a con in the 80s and insisted on it in a meeting with his writers -- something Berman later would not honor. Gene wanted the AIDS episode, showing m/m and f/f in the Riza scenes -- these were some of Roddenberry's requests to include in TNG that Berman later stonewalled.
Berman's era was sadly dated by his own misogynist bias, IMO, to the point that it can somewhat hurt the shows he worked on through his cringe egoism and blatant disrespect toward his female cast.
There is a reason why Gene could keep female actresses working with him and Berman had a revolving door of women that he couldn't seem to keep working for him -- he was abhorrent to women, on and off set. Gene wasn't perfect at all, he had a lot of issues himself -- but Berman was a whole other level. Just look at what he did to poor Jolene Blalock, Marina Sirtis and his toxic commenting on her body weight which exacerbated her struggles with eating disorders, or how he treated and talked to Terry Farrell.
Anyway, just some food for thought. I'm not saying anyone is wrong regarding a take like that, but there are a variety of ways to look at this. Gene Roddenberry isn't a saint by any means, but it definitely bothers me how folks will tote the Berman era as if it were the lesser of two evils or the more progressive depiction of women when I felt there were far more concerning portrayals of women in his era with far less justification.
(P.S: I don't event want to go near the sheer amount of "creepy old dude/villain preys on innocent/naïve/scared young woman or little girl" stories there were in Berman's era, either. But that's a whole other can of worms I can write about in a part 2.)
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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months
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Best friend steve showing you how to finger yourself but it’s just so goofy and unserious but like soooo hot
18+
(characters are high but all consensual.)
Honestly, if anyone had had to ask, you weren’t sure how you would have explained it. How it started, whose idea it was, how the topic of conversation even came up.
But there had been a joint rolled, some of Eddie’s special strain and then you were a few puffs into a second shared with Steve before your shorts were lost at the bottom of his bed.
You were both giggly about it, eyes half lidded and lazy but that all changed when you’d stripped, the boy’s eyes going a little wide, pupils blown as he looked at all the skin on your bare legs.
Your t-shirt covered you for the most part, a ratty old band shirt that had a hole in the collar and it hung just past your underwear, a pair of stupid pink things with a bow on the front.
Less than sexy. This wasn’t sexy.
It was— it was?
“Like this?” You asked, a little breathless, a little embarrassed, but there was laughter in your throat and you weren’t sure what you were even asking because Steve couldn’t even see what you were doing. “Fuck, this is stupid.”
You were against his pillows, the film forgotten in the background, the bowl of popcorn and gummy worms spilled on the floor. Steve was still at the bottom of the bed, sprawled out on his side as he watched you, the dopey smile on his face turning slack because you had your knees hiked up and your heels pressed to his sheets. Your hand was down the front of your underwear, clumsy fingers searching for something you’d told him didn’t really work for you.
You don’t know why you’d told him that.
Steve adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed to the mattress as if he was supposed to hide the fact he was turned on. He wasn’t really sure if you’d be more offended if he wasn’t. He didn’t know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked:
“You’re such a dumbass. Are you even touching your clit?”
His words buzzed through you, a simple question but bordering on the dirty talk you heard on the late night channels that you always kept at a low volume. You squirmed, shrugging, unable to take your eyes off of Steve. He was watching your hand move, fingers swiping through your folds under the soft cotton and you felt yourself get a little wetter.
You wondered if he could see, if you’d have a little damp patch between your spread legs.
“I think so?” you claimed. “I don’t— it’s just, it’s too slippy to feel anything properly. They didn’t teach us this is sex ed, you know.”
Steve inhaled sharply, breath stuck in his throat like a chokehold. You watched his cheeks burn, a pretty pink glow across the high points of them and you wondered if he’d move closer, if you asked. His hand was lying near your ankle, fingers twitching.
“No, I know— shit, uh—“ Steve swallowed audibly, shifting again, hips moving uncomfortably and you wondered if he was hard, if he was turned on too. “Just— move in circles, be a little softer, Christ, babe. You’ll… you’ll feel it.”
So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your spread folds, moving a little higher until you jumped, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your leg jerk.
You laughed, feeling stupid, feeling floaty, bone lazy and searching for another type of high. You crinkled your nose, lashes fluttering as you touched that spot again and again. Slow circles, soft and timid.
“Oh,” you murmured, mouth parting.
You were still watching the boy.
Steve pressed his lips together, watching you back, gaze flickering from your hand underneath the pink cotton to your face, the pretty way your eyes went hooded and dark.
“Yeah? Feel good?”
You nodded, grinning at Steve’s words, head feeling dizzy at the sensation that was building, a hook in your stomach that was pulling tighter and tighter. A laugh bubbled from you, elated, high. “Yeah, s’feels good.”
You thought you heard Steve let out a soft noise, a moan, maybe. He swore, head falling slightly, his forehead bumping the bed before he went back to staring.
“Will I come?” You asked, still smiling, still feeling buzzy. “Like this? If I keep doing this?”
You were squirming again, chasing your fingers and Steve was watching open mouthed. He’d moved, finally, the rock hard evidence of your show evident in his jeans. Steve was too far gone to try and hide it now, the length of him aching and when he dragged the heel of his palm over himself, you keened, eyes tracking the movements.
“Yeah, fuck— yeah, just keep doing what feels good, okay?” Steve voice was hoarse, wrecked sounding, pretty sounding. “You’re doing real good, babe.”
The phrase made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers boring down a little harder now, confidence growing and the laughter leaving your throat as Steve kept rubbing over his cock, looking at you like were made of gold.
“Holy shit, that’s really fuckin’ hot,” he croaked, “you gonna come, yeah?”
You nodded, head tipped back into the pillows, bones nothing but liquid heat now as your fingers slid messily over your clit, your underwear stretched out over the back of your hand. You wondered if Steve could see anything, if the elastic in the stupid, pink cotton had given away enough for him to see the wet folds of your pussy, if he could see the way you were spread out and desperate.
You wanted him to keep talking. You just didn’t know how to ask.
You keened, back arching, fingers fumbling and face scrunching up in frustration. Your foot slipped, nudging at Steve’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around it as he held you, keeping you grounded. His thumb ran over the bone there, delicate and making you shiver.
“There you go,” he murmured and he laughed when you did, disbelieving and drunk sounding. “That’s it, huh? Fuck, you’re so good, so good. I can’t believe you’re gonna let me watch you come.”
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writingouthere · 4 months
Text
neighbor!sukuna x singlemom!reader. Sukuna picks up your daughter from school, he makes quite the impression and we learn more about his background.
cw: None really here except I guess this is low key becoming a slow burn, idk.
You were stuck at work and didn't have anyone else who could go get your daughter so you had asked Sukuna. The tattoo shop was usually slow in the evening this far into winter anyway, and he couldn't imagine saying no to you even if he'd been fully booked.
It felt strange to be going outside when it was still light out but Sukuna took in the sights as other people walked around, other parents clearly in the process of picking up their children from school.
Not that Bug was his kid, at least not as far you knew. Yet.
Sukuna didn't do things halfway, just wasn't in his nature. He knew he was moving fast, he had put up with his little brother Yuji's nervous protests at dinner the week before when he had explained his new living situation, but he wasn't going to slow things down when they were going so well.
For a long time, it had just been him and Yuji. There had been other relatives, like Yuji's grandfather and his freak of a mother, but the two had mostly bounced around foster homes and made due until Sukuna was old enough to take care of them both. Yuji was graduating college in the spring and Sukuna had been alone since he left for the dorms and now he had an apartment with some friends from school. Sukuna was proud of his brother, he was one of the only people he really gave a fuck about. Their lives had been hard and that had made Sukuna even harder. Yuji had never been like that, he had come through even kinder than the average person and Sukuna could admire the strength that showed in it's own way.
The point was, Sukuna had paid his dues. He had done right by his brother even when the world had done them so wrong and now he was ready for his reward. You and the little girl he was about to go get.
The daycare was inside of a little beige building, decorated with those tacky outlines of children playing and some fucking mural with birds that always seemed to cover the walls of places like this. Parents, mostly moms, walked out with their children in tow, asking about their days and zipping up coats. Sukuna noticed the double takes as they took him in, the way the adults seemed to pull their little ones closer. That was fine by him, he didn't want any of these fucking rugrats near him except his own.
"Ryomen Sukuna, mom should have added me to the pick-up list," he told your daughter's teacher, showing her his ID. She didn't react to his tattoos or general aura with anything but a smile and he supposed that childcare workers must be aware more than most that they really do let anyone be a parent.
"Of course, I'll go get her while you sign here," she said handing over a clipboard with the names of all the kids in the center along with blue pen with a fuzzy pompom attached to it. While he was signing his name he heard a familiar squeal and looked to see your daughter running towards him as fast as her little legs could carry her.
"Sukuna!"
She tripped on some particularly tricky air and Sukuna moved forward to pick her up before she could face plant on the hard tile.
"Careful there bug, told mom I'd bring you home in one piece."
She ignored him and started babbling nonsense about her day that Sukuna could only really catch half of, but he nodded and hmmed as he finished signing her out and with a quick nod to the amused staff member, he headed out.
He shifted her on his hip so he could finish zipping up her coat. What was it with kids and their refusal to just zip up their damn coats? He remembered Yuji had been the same.
Bug continued to regale him with tales of her day until she eventually squirmed on his hip, the universal signal for "put me down until I get tired and whine for you to pick me up again" and Sukuna put her down on the sidewalk but took her backpack which he slung across his shoulder and then grabbed her hand with his. He could see people take second looks at the two of them and he supposed they cut quite the picture. The tall scary guy with tattoos carrying a pink princess backpack and the little girl pulling him down the sidewalk.
"We in a rush or something?"
Your daughter laughed and said something about being hungry for dinner with mommy which he could get behind. You both had only been living with him for a week but you already had a bit of a routine. He made breakfast in the morning while you got the kid ready but you always made dinner that was ready when he got home. It was nice, domestic. It felt like what he imagined life was like for people who had normal families when he had been a young kid. Holding a crying, hungry baby Yuji on his lap while they ate whatever he could scrounge up in whatever shithole they were in that week.
He remembered when Yuji had been the same age as your daughter and the idea of her ever living in the places they had, or going through the things they had made him pull her a little closer.
He wasn't going to lie to himself and say he was a good man or that he wanted you, the both of you, for some pure love nonsense but he knew he wanted you all the same. He had done terrible things and he would do them all over again if it led to this moment where he watched as your daughter cooed over the neighbor's dog. Said neighbor looking at him in confusion and fear as he told your daughter they needed to leave the fleabag alone and go home.
Later, when Sukuna was working on dinner and your daughter was sitting on the counter, "helping", he heard the sound of a key in the lock.
"I'm home," you called out and Sukuna called out that they were in the kitchen.
"Hey, thank you so much for getting her. I just wasn't going to make it in time," you said, picking up your daughter.
"No worries, we weren't busy at the shop today anyway." You hummed and smiled at him.
"Still."
"You can go ahead and change," he told you and you looked ready to protest when he went to grab your daughter from you but then Bug went willingly and he saw how you melted at the two of them. Good.
"Okay, but when I get back I'm taking over dinner."
Sukuna agreed and he watched as you walked away, admiring the way your clothes hugged your frame. He was glad the only witness to his hunger was a toddler who was more interested in poking his cheek than observing social cues.
The rest of the evening passed peacefully and Sukuna felt what he could only describe as content. When your daughter started to nod off on your shoulder, you got up from the couch to take her to bed, telling Sukuna he should stay and that you got it. With your daughter on one hip, you used your free hand to press against his shoulder and lean down to where he was still on the couch. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips pressing gently against his cheek and then with a quick goodnight, the two of you were in your room, the door closing with a quick 'click'.
The gesture had been so innocent and Sukuna would have mocked anyone he knew who got so flustered over a gesture as meaningless as a kiss on the cheek.
But how could any gesture be meaningless when it came from you?
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satoruhour · 4 months
Note
very gojo-coded‼️ like if there’s one thing mans cannot do it is keep his hands off you
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a/n: UR BRAIN >>> / tagging @jabamin @osaemu @hyomagiri :3
warnings: i guess reader is a little shy in this? fem!reader, a little teasing, use of ‘mama’, pet names, humping, fingering, lovesick gojo, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut
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“baby—” you’re quick to retract your statement when you catch your boyfriend trying to relax after a long day of fighting curses, but he’s more holding his head in his hands and just taking a moment in silence for himself. the television only does more than what it’s intended for by providing an annoying canvas of background noise but he’s just too content with finally being back home that he doesn’t care.
he reached home when you were in the shower, a little surprised he didn’t try to teleport himself into the cubicle itself, but you think it’s because he’s exhausted; maybe he needs a little . . de-stressing. gojo hums at your resigned call and doesn’t turn to face you, but you know he knows that you��re surely naked and dripping under your towel, meekly holding a bottle of moisturiser and hoping you wouldn’t have to take another shower with the actions that’s sure to occur.
“what is it, sweets?” gojo asks, head tilted back along the edge of the couch, but he finally tries to turn his head toward you, smiling a little when he sees your figure freezing from the night’s breezes.
“need you to moisturise . .” you mumble, padding over to him before plopping yourself down in front of him. he welcomes you with open arms, wanting to just have you in his embrace for a little while and you fall right into his sweet talking trap. you like it, though, the sweet nothings he tells you as he easily adjusts your body against his larger one, not caring one bit that the shower droplets wet his uniform.
“c’mon, turn your back toward me,” you murmur a soft okay, sucking in a breath when he peels away the towel from your skin. you sigh softly when you feel his nose along your neck, taking in your fresh scent of strawberry shampoo and body wash while his hands massage your shoulders, down to your shoulder blades and to your sides where you jump from the ticklish sensation.
you burn when satoru laughs against your skin, “relaax, sweetheart.”
you’re unaware but gojo tries his best to untangle the knots you’ve developed over the years from endless training and brutal missions, hands working magic on your lower back now as his thumbs continually move over the base of your spine.
“you’re so tight, here.”
“a-ah . . don’t say that, satoru,” you’re anything but innocent, but it is a little upfront the way your boyfriend never fails to talk dirty in entirely mundane situations. while you’re used to it, your body still tenses from the lewdness and suddenness of it; you’re at a loss for words and you melt in gojo’s arms.
“why?” he presses his front into your back, mouth going back to your neck to try to distract you from the actual thing he’s supposed to be doing. with each kiss along your jaw, he can only feel himself get harder. “it’s cute seeing you so shy like this.”
“satoru.” it comes out shaky, “the moisturiser.”
“okay, okay,” he laughs, using his hand to turn your cheek for a small kiss, humming into it, “i’ll get to it, mama.”
the both of you are only trying to play the part — you, the clueless one receiving a moisturising job at the places you can’t reach on your back. gojo, the ever-loving boyfriend who drops everything to help you. he giggles again when you yelp at the coldness of the liquid before he starts to spread it; he does his job dutifully, at least, rubbing it into the far ends of your shoulders right to the centre where you struggle. like earlier, he takes pride in his larger hands, rubbing and squeezing at your back as he massages the moisturiser in.
“anything else you need me to help ya with?” the voice behind you surprises you again, arms now gliding along your sides to wrap around you, “maybe . .”
“are you really gonna make me say it—”
gojo giggles into your hair, an innocent action if it wasn’t for the hard-on pressed into your lower back, “it’s only fair i would want my shy baby say what she really wants, it’s always a treat.”
“i’d— uhm,” words sometimes have a hard time leaving your mouth, but even so, the way you tenderly turn around and push him to the sofa all have a scared edge to it. being with gojo made you open up more, but you don’t think your shy disposition has any problems. plus, your boyfriend finds it cute.
your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling away the belt and zipping it down, before you’re palming his bulge softly. he hums at the relief, his encouraging hands all gentle on your arms while you remove his underwear slowly. gojo looks like you’re the most beautiful as you climb on him, freshly showered and back full of sweet-smelling moisturiser, and plop yourself onto his lap. your pussy’s already fairly dripping, small moans leaving both your mouths when your cunt meets with the underside of his cock.
“at least take me out to dinner first,” satoru jokes and laughs even harder when he sees the pout on your face, “c’mere, you.”
before you know it, your hips are already grinding down on his front while he crashes his lips into yours. while his hands are placed on your ass, kneading it and helping you, yours are simultaneously removing his jujutsu uniform, fingers in perfect muscle memory from the many, many times you found yourself making out after gruelling missions. you have to pull away against your will when his hands leave your ass, doing the work yourself as he removes the uniform one arm hole at a time.
“i’ve only rubbed your back and you’re already soaking,” he whispers against your lips once he’s unclothed, lips chasing yours as you only press yourself deeper into him.
“and you’re already hard,” his eyes express pure glee at your words, letting you grind your cunt into his now dripping shaft. you can feel him twitch at the way your folds fit nicely along him, hands periodically squeezing your waist when you move your hips back and forth.
gojo has the luxury of sucking on your neck when your head tilts back at the tantalising feeling, clit bumping against his cock in all kinds of friction while you hump him, fingers losing themselves in his stark white hair that you love so much. tugging and pulling on it, there’s a plethora of sensations that only heighten the lewd situation; your nipples rubbing against his chest, his fingers stealthily playing with your hole, his teeth marking your skin.
“’toru—” you moan into open air, body arching into his hold as he hums in response, bringing your mouth back to him for a rough kiss. you can feel his fingers enter you gently while he swallows your sounds, his own hips also chasing ecstasy against your needy clit. “s’good . .”
one arm tight around your waist and the other pumping his fingers in you, you’re overwhelmed when he starts curling them in your cunt, making you whine out at the spot he’s found. everything about gojo drives you crazy, and it’s clear you do the same to him from the way his length twitches again under you.
“you’re so tight, baby,” he murmurs into the kiss, eyes struggling to stay open from the way you grind against him and push your ass against his digits. you’d expect a smart comment about him saying the exact same thing as earlier but he’s too lost in pleasure to give a shit, “can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
you whimper at the blatant filthiness of his words, pulling away and hiding your burning face in his neck while he only chuckles softly, cut off by a grunt when you clench around him.
“need you to cum, princess,” his fingers reach deeper than any of yours, spreading you and getting you ready for his dick. your hips are working overtime, grinding the most that you can to feel something, anything against your bundle of nerves. paired with the grunts of satoru in your ear and the slickness of your pussy, you can feel yourself getting closer to your climax until— 
“f-fuck . . shit,” gojo’s eyes are squeezed tight when you continue to hump the underside of his shaft while he spills all over himself, fingers faltering while he continues to cum all over himself just from your grinding, a breathless laugh escaping him when all your face held was surprise, “this is what you do t’me.”
the twitch of his cock sends you hurling over the edge as you cum over him as well, thighs closing around him and the grip on his shoulders only strengthens while your cum drips down his fingers  — the declaration of the strongest sorcerer being weak only for you was something you didn’t take lightly, and yet you’re in wonder everyday how it came to be. you let out a surprised shriek when he carries you swiftly, a small question of sofa or bedroom? posed to you before you silently point to the room.
it’s all loving laughter about the abandoned towel, or him walking with his trousers halfway down his legs as he princess carries you there, messy kisses shared before you’re both plopped down and your face is smushed into the pillows (“don’t wanna mess up my moisturising job, now, do we?”).
“fuuck yeah . .” gojo groans once he slips into you, hands holding onto your hips as he eases his cock inch by inch and you’re left to softly moan at the stretch. your hands scramble for sheets and pillows, already clamping down on his shaft like a vice and he hisses. “tryna snap my dick off?”
you giggle as you turn your head so you can at least see him, a drunk smile on your face as you take in your boyfriend: chest glistening from sweat and his usual unkempt hair looking even messier and his mouth dropped open at the feel of your wet pussy.
slowly, his hips set a pace once he’s bottomed out in you, thumbs digging into your lower back and having the opposite effect of his massage from earlier; it’s bound to leave some bruises, but the drag of your cunt along his cock is just too hypnotising. he grinds himself into you, tip just about brushing your g-spot so easily.
“pretty, pretty girl . .” satoru mumbles, eyes trained on you, he admires your silent noises and limp body rocking against the bedsheets before his eyes fall on your centre, a clear sheen of slick along your folds that shines under the moonlight, “with the prettiest cunt.”
the words, as grossly filthy as they are, warms your cheeks as he continues to speed up, hips driving into you so violently you wouldn’t think he loves so softly. his hands span your lower back, triggering your arch and accentuating your ass, mesmerised with how it jiggles each time his hips meet them. but one look back to you and he’s already saying moisturising job be damned because of the lovely curvature of your lips as they fall open in pleasure together with the rolling back of your eyes.
your boyfriend leans against your back, one elbow supporting his body while he just has to litter your nape with kisses as he continues to rail you. you’re blessed with his incoherent words, only making you wetter and more pliant for him. your hips start to move back against him, too, and your hands try your best at cradling his face.
“s’good, s’full, ’toru,” you mumble, eyes barely keeping open as his fat cock stretches you and sends you reeling with each brush of his tip along your spots, “love it s’much, love you.”
he coos at his baby, body flush against yours while he muffles you with his love and lust. and while satoru has stamina, your lower back begins to hurt and he lets you lower yourself down to the bed, grinning at the feel of the sheets that smell like him.
“you feelin’ better?” he smooths his fingers along your back, and he knows you nod without even looking at him because he just knows you that well, “well, good, ’cause—”
gojo re-enters you with one hand spreading you and the other guiding his cock into you, the position only emphasising your thighs and your ass and the squeeze of his length is too good. he pulls your cheeks apart just to look at how you take him, pussy spread to accommodate him.
“’cause you feel too damn good for me not to be in ya for even a sec.” he grunts as he pushes in and you only suck in a breath at it, wiggling your butt back into his for him to start moving. his eyes fixate on your tight cunt, lost in a trance as he starts up a moderate speed, but he makes sure to thrust all up into you.
“touch yourself for me, baby,” he mumbles out, groaning when you push your butt high enough for your hand to slip in. he can feel you rubbing your clit, eyes fluttering close from the overstimulating sensation that all that falls from your lips are satoru, satoru, satoru.
“just like that, that’s it, mama,” gojo watches your expression, hips stuttering at having witnessed your beauty in such a lewd place, “wan’ me to cum in you? hm?”
you unconsciously nod, more whines falling from your lips and babbles that just shows him how fucked out you are. “i’ll need my princess to cum first, though . .” and he takes over just like that: one hand next to your face and the other swatting your hand to replace the messy circles you’ve been rubbing into your puffy clit.
“want to feel her — fuckin’ hell — clench around me, want her to cum all over my cock,” he speaks through gritted teeth, slapping your pussy briefly and you cry out in pleasure, “can you do that, sweetness?”
your eyes scrunch in euphoria, “yes, yes, satoru—” every breath you take is a struggle and every word you speak is slurred, grasping onto his wrist for an anchor and try to angle your head, “w’nna cum, i’m gonna cum, baby—”
“’toru—!” you see white before you can feel it, tearing just a bit at the intense feeling and hiding as much as you can behind his wrist as his other hand increases his speed on your clit. it happens all too fast; the slap of his pelvis against yours and the clear, audible sound of your pussy dripping and the precise thrusts in how he rams into you.
“that’s it, there we gooo . .” gojo coos when you cum silently, little pants and mewls leaving your mouth as your body convulses around him. your cunt’s gripping onto his cock so harshly he has trouble moving but it’s fine considering the way he gets to see you come undone by his doing. you’re gushing all over him, a small squeal leaving you when he pinches your clit playfully.
he slows a little just to let you ride out your orgasm, clear in the way you continue to grind back against him but soon he’s picking it up again and you’re left to hold tight onto his arm as he uses your body to reach his high. your gummy walls were just too warm and gripping onto him so well, and when you’re holding so gently onto his arm, filling you up is all he can think about.
“gonna c—” a loud groan sounds out from satoru when his thrusts are interrupted by his orgasm; all it took was one involuntary clench from you to get him to empty himself in you, sensitive tip spurting ropes and ropes of cum deep into you as he paints your insides white, “take it. take it deep in ya, mama.”
you moan softly at the obscene words and later, at the obscene noises of how he pulls himself out of you and you can hear your mixed juices coalesce and drip onto the sheets below you. although, before satoru can make a funny joke or kiss you, you’re knocked out cold on the bed sheets.
“passing out on me?” is all is says with a laugh, turning you over and gives you a spare pillow to cuddle before he leaves you with a forehead kiss and a promise to clean you up just like you deserve.
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zlebooks · 1 year
Text
𓂃 alhaitham + congrats being the first/last person to know!
you finally confess to kaveh that you have feelings for his flatmate, only you forget to tell him one key information.
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when you realized you like al haitham, the experience was ironically similar to waking up on any day.
there were no fireworks that erupted, no scoffs of unbelief from yourself, no “kiss me” by sixpence none the richer playing in the background. there was only kaveh— al haitham’s flatmate ridiculing you in the background.
it was a saturday morning and you chose to spend it on a little quaint coffee shop in downtown brooklyn with your best friend, kaveh. he was your common link to the brooding man, the one who had introduced the both of you to each other.
and as kaveh rambled on and on about his co-worker that has been driving him nuts, you suddenly blurt out something you haven’t thought of much.
“i like al haitham,”
you see your best friend drop everything he was doing— literally. his knife clangs on the porcelain plate as he stops his rant midway.
really, it was more of his moment than yours.
“congrats dearest, you were the last one to know!” he chirps happily, before picking up the bread knife he dropped a moment ago and resumes spreading butter to his bread.
your jaw drops dramatically as if your best friend had just insulted your entire family clan.
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
“exactly what it means.” the blond deadpans as if anything he uttered under the twenty minutes you’re together has been helpful with your situation.
“fuck you.”
“i thought you liked al haitham?”
“fuck you, fuck you.”
“sorry, i’m unavailable.”
“do i really look like i have a crush on him?” you say under your breath, looking around like you were relaying top secret information.
“even the most socially inept would notice.”
the café doors open as signalled by the bell ringing. you would have pay no attention to it if it were any other of the regulars that kept this place running, but as you catch a glimpse of an ashy grey hair, you immediately duck your head under the table in hopes of making yourself unnoticeable.
“what the fuck are you doing—“
“hello.”
kaveh finds himself interrupted by the very man he finds insufferable and with how his luck is, the same guy whom his best friend is currently crushing on.
the man standing eyes your form— at least what’s visible of it above the table, before raising his eyebrows on the blond. your friend shrugs, opting to stay out of this because even he didn’t have any explanation for how you’re behaving.
“what are you doing?” you hear the scholar’s voice from above.
the blond snorts, “finding their leftover dignity, probably.”
in an attempt to retort something— anything, you raise your head up quickly to look at kaveh’s eyes and cuss him out, but you should have known better than to carelessly throw your head in any direction as you feel your head slam against the table.
ouch.
al haitham hears you whimper although it sounded more of a strangled attempt at breathing as you immediately cut it short. out of concern, he kneels down beside you and oh god— he’s caressing the top of your head in an attempt to sooth it. he asks you a simple question, a really simple one that can be answered with a simple yes or no, and yet your heart quivers.
“are you okay?”
you finally look up from the floor and see that al haitham is still charming.
and kaveh, kaveh was still a dick.
“you know, with how hard headed they are, it would be more appropriate to ask how the table is faring instead.”
you feel the turquoise eyed man glare at your best friend.
suddenly, you feel a sudden shift in your weight. looking around, you notice how al haitham is leading you to get on your feet only he was doing all the heavy work— he’s literally bringing you up.
“what were you doing down there?”
the still concerned scholar asks, to which you wince at as you take your seat once more. you try to rack up your mind for a totally false reason, but the task proves itself to be difficult when a small bump is starting to form on your head. you feel like your encounter with the table has made your brain shake inside your skull and ended up in a very wrong position.
thankfully, your best friend answers the question himself.
“y/n, my dearest friend over here, has realized that they like you. and although that sounds like an incredible disaster, i’m still glad to say that the pining is over.”
or not.
for someone having a small mouth, kaveh pretty sure talks a lot. but then again, with kaveh, he had absolutely no filter for his lips, always airing out private business to anyone and everyone.
kaveh, strangely enough, receives a look of nonchalance from the taller man. this wasn’t the reaction he was trying to get— he was expecting for his roommate to suddenly malfunction. like completely speechless, or stammering at least, red as a tomato and stiff as a plywood kind of malfunction. instead, he receives the usual unamused look from the other that he usually dons.
“of course y/n would; it’d be troublesome otherwise. we are seeing each other romantically, of course.”
your newly revealed boyfriend responds curtly, keeping his reply clear and concise. it was kaveh who eventually malfunctioned.
“you two are what?!”
“dating, yes.”
“how— when— why—“
“i confessed, they felt the same way so i asked them out. it happened before winter break, and why not? we like each other.” the taller man responds for you.
“no! i mean, what was your deal earlier?” the blond explains, pointing at you accusingly as if you had eaten the last remaining cupcake on the plate.
“why’d you make it seem like you were only realising now that you like al haitham?!”
you grin shyly, “it was me trying to see if you’d notice… we meant to keep it under the wraps for a while and you were kind of a test subject?”
kaveh feels his jaw detach. yeah sure you were a stem student and all, but weren’t you taking your research too far?
“i hate the both of you.”
your boyfriend shrugs while you laugh sheepishly.
“if it makes you feel better, you’re the first one to know… congrats?”
“it doesn’t at all! forget it!”
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♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!
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deadghosy · 2 months
Note
How would (Separate) Hazbin hotel (Demons &Angel) react to a green thumb gardener whose elegant, classy and attractive and she went to hell by mistake but it was a happy one (She's not completely weak as she has her plant to protect her and everything)
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HAZBIN HOTEL X GARDENER! READER
prompt: a common mistake made demons and angels swoon over a gardener who just wants to take care of her/his plants
cw! Sir Pentious is alive for this so he can witness your beauty in flowers💗
note! I listened to Lana Del Rey while making this lol.
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HELL
You didn’t know you were supposed to be in heaven as you started your own flower shop. It was the biggest know hell flower store with actual flowers.
You were practically poison ivy, but more kind and definitely calmer. Hell, even some of your regulars call you poison ivy. Mostly because if people touch you metaphorically the wrong way, then you technically show them a harsher side of you. Literally, a plant impaled a sinner trying to rob your store. 
What you didn’t except to get friends or even people interested into you as you just have a normal as shop you dreamed of before dying.
“Welcome to my flower shop, what can I help you with?” You said with a soft smile as a flower vine is watering other flowers in the background. Some imps, sinners, and hell borns go all the way to just see you and your flowers.
I can see you wearing a flower crown or just flowers in your hair. Like dead ass giving rapunzel. Possibly so, your alive flowers and vines had made that for you as you worked.
You most definitely wear those cute gardening outfits like overalls or those dresses if you prefer one of them or both.
See this is what I can imagine, I can imagine the whole damn hotel having a flower competition and you show up with a big ass plant with a neat pink bow on it 😭. You definitely had a smile as you drank tea with a secret smirk.
I can see you visiting the hotel Charlie has as she invited you to do some flower decor for a reopening of the hotel.
Imagine how pissed you were when a couple of sinners came in to make your shop look like shit. But you wasn’t gonna stand for it as you raised your hand grabbing the sinners by their necks with vines. “If you want flowers, I wouldn’t mind making you a funeral for you to have some.” You said with venom as the sinner practically shitted themselves as they were thrown out the windows of your shop.
A sinner had thrown a Molotov cocktail once in your shop all because he thought it was weird to have a “girly” flower shop in hell. As the fire spreads in your shop, you sighed having plant vines cover you in a big ball as one of the vine slither to find the culprit. After finding the culprit, you forced them to clean your shop since killing someone for such a petty crime like that in your opinion isn’t worth killing. You can always make a new shop and fix it.
Vaggie most definitely knows you as you hooked her up with flowers that Charlie might like. You told her Charlie seems like a simple girl would just like roses since they represent romance. And basically it was Vaggie and Charlie’s date night. And it was a success.
Angel dust loves how you don’t judge him for who he is by his work. But he definitely loves how you two gossip over some tea, well he drinks while you drink tea or water. You are like an older sister/brother figure to him. He loves resting in your bean bag you have in the back, he could just come in and and lay down straight.
I headcannon your whole palette to be like green, pink, yellow and white. Literally just spring ass colors to seem classy with your flower shop.
I can imagine you having the personality of applejack but more of a flower and gardening person as gardener! Reader were most definitely born in the south. Like I can imagine reader to be a mix of applejack, rarity, fluttershy but 100% of applejack’s honesty and a lot of Rarity’s elegance.
Niffty adores you! Literally she goes in your store to rant about she wants the hotel to smell fresh and ready. And you hook a sista up with how you give her scented plug in. She immediately starts worshipping you like Alastor which makes Alastor raise a brow seeing a shine of you in her room and drawings of you.
Charlie immediately loves how vaggie and angel ador you and find you as a loyal friend. She would love to have you at the hotel as a resident. She could even beg Alastor or her dad to make a flower shop for you to even stay longer by briding. She would also try to become your friend for her to succeed.
Sir Pentious went to your store to apologize again to Alastor as he felt that Alastor didn’t forgave him. He was scared you weren’t a kind “sinner” that only had a flower shop to scam people for their money. But when you spoke with kindness and care towards the snake demon. He felt calm in your presence, to the point when he got his flowers. He gave you one which made you smile at him and put it in your hair. He blushed and ran off.
The egg boiz love too appear in your store as their boss, penthouse is very nervous to talk to such an attractive person like you. You welcome the eggz to your humble store as you give them flowers to give back to the hotel staffs.
Angel and Cherri most definitely asked you to give them flowers to match their personality. You gave them both a Carnation flower which you thought was good for their personality. Or even a Lilly.
Husk kept seeing the crew leave the hotel to see them come back with flowers. He grumble confused at why they kept getting flowers. That is until he asked Charlie, and Charlie ranted about what a beauty and how kind you are. Husk raised a brow thinking you were putting up an act, so he went to see you. Let’s just say he got a rose coming back with a soft smile and a purr.
The Vee’s heard about you, Vox heard about you first and looked you up to see you are a popular florist and gardener with the power of Chlorokinesis. The power to mentally and physically control flowers. Vox smirked hearing about your 5 star rating shop. If it was that high ranked with people commenting it on yelp saying you were the best business to be at. You definitely got his attention at most.
Lucifer went to your store for some flowers to give to his daughter, and when he heard how amazing your store was. He went to se it himself. He definitely felt your pure spirit making him stumble into confusion on why you weren’t in heaven already. But he got his flowers and felt with a cup of tea you gave him. He shortly came back at the end of the day to give you his own flowers as he smiled with a snake smile and left leaving a note that says, “you’re welcome to come stay at the hotel! :)”
Alastor finally decided to meet you after hearing all the good things you did for the hotel and for the staff. He must say he was jealous how you won their hearts so damn quickly. He went to your store to see what’s all the fuss about and got hit with a lavender scent in his nose. He covered it as he wasn’t use to such sweet smell in hell as it’s filled with fire and blood. And there you were sitting there with a smile as warm plate of teas sat by you. You welcomed him as he made chat with you to find your heart pure with gold. He also left with a rose and a genuine smile.
I imagine how sweet you get your own flowers by regulars and your friends at the hotel as they love your passion about plants.
Headcannon on Gardner! Reader to be a Lana Del Rey fan as the song to match her/him is “born to die” 💗🦆
Vox was obviously the first Vee to meet you face to face as he had researched you so many times on the internet to get any scoop of you to only end up with an empty hand. So he decided to see you in person and smile with a charming one to see you greet him with a smile and show him the recommended flowers for loved one and family. He was not into the flowers as he watched the plant vines in the back work like hands. He smirks trying to use his hypnosis, but failed greatly as a flower in a vase covered his sighting of you. Thanks to your plant vines.
Velvette was the second one to come to your store as she was not impressed at how “boring and plain” it was in your shop. She was snarky about the decor and gave you tips on how to make it “pop” in here. You just smiled, and with a snap of your fingers, the decor changed to a more fashionable flower place. It made the female Vee almost drop her jaw and composure. But she can’t let some flower store shock her. So she left with one last snarky comment under her breath.
Valentino definitely came in last to see what was up with your whole popularity of your “business” of flowers as he was so busy working his porn industry. So when he walked in yo see you reaching for some flower seeds to get for a customer. He grabbed your waist, wanting to seem flirty only for it to backfire as a vine punches him away from you. You already knew who this bastard was, and you weren’t gonna let him get you like how he got angel. So during his entire visit at your shop, you made it a living hell. Literally.
I can see the Vee’s coming back every weekday to try and get you to be their little flower pet, but you ain’t buying it. 😘
You most definitely have a vine hammock in the corner of your store as you just sit there and nap during your breaks.
Imagine how cool and sweet you are to the imp and hell born children that come to visit your store for father day and mother day. Hell, even valentines days
I can headcannon that gardener! Reader has once in their hell life down there had to drag out a rude Karen ass bitch by their hair. You fuck with their plants, you fuck with them.
Imagine how chill you are just sipping tea as your plants and vines attack some dude trying to steal your sunflower seeds. Yeah, no one gets out without being traumatized by plants 😍
You came into the hotel once and immediately got love bombed by everyone. But not in a manipulate way, they just appreciate how amazing you are to people even the staff at most. They go as far to throw you a “welcoming” party 💗
Lucifer had most definitely sent ducks with mini flower crowns and a Gardner duck to you as he finds you very elegant and beautiful in your own way. He even accidentally tries to court you with his wings when he leans against at the front desk of your store staring into your eyes.
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HEAVEN
Adam had eventually was sent to take you back into heaven as sera realized her mistake. You willingly went with Adam who smirked at your sweet smile and took you up by your hand. Like, let’s say whatever happened in the hell section didn’t happen as you just had a bad time in hell itself.
St. Peter immediately greets you, making feel welcome to your new home. He even baked you cookies with a smiley face. He tries to make chit chat with you when he isn’t on duty getting people into the gates. He literally visits your workplace in the flower store you own, bringing cookies, making sure you are okay. Hell-, I meannn heaven gods..he must be a househusband cause GYATT DAMN this man is making sure you are well and healthy in heaven’s care. 💗💗
Sera most definitely have showed you around heaven with a please smile to see a Gardner. You would’ve been great for the Garden of Eden, is what she says in her head as you smile at the trees and potted plants around. You even showed the seraphim your powers, and she must say that she was pleased and made you a gardener around heaven and even your own garden shop and house.
Emily most definitely tries to go visit you everyday to try and find flowers that match you so you can be surprise when she buys you flowers herself. You and Emily definitely have a sibling relationship at most because of how she looks up to you in a gardening way as she also wants to impress you by making her own garden and green house. She also makes sure you take breaks as she wants to help with the customers as you take a break in the back. Your friendship with her is so wholesome and lovely.
Adam likes how classy you are, you don’t even cuss him out when you are angry at him. You just put your hand in his face and walk away. Sassy, but classy enough to not curse someone the fuck out. Yeah sure that might’ve turned him on a bit at how hot and “bitchy” that was of you. Cause no one has ever rejected the “Dickmaster”. So it was his duty to make you his friend…sorta😨. But it’s all fun and games at how you guys are like frenemies at most since Adam actually can’t stand you, but still flirts at how attractive and kind you are. Hell even strong minded.
The angels absolutely love coming in your store! They find every single plant and flower you made incredible. You practically almost run out of business when it’s Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. But you can’t complain when they leave so much heaven bucks for you to get more plant seeds and such. The angels also love how pure of gold your heart is as you even give some off free for the heaven borns and winners.
Big headcannon on how your Gardner outfit in heaven, the palette is a soft green and pink pastel. But Adam and Sera had thought about you wearing a gold, white, and blue type of Gardner outfit. They want you to stay pure and mighty.
OOOH IMAGINE HAVING CUTE ASS WHITE GLOVES 😭😭 LIKE THEY HAVE THOSE STITCHED IN GOLD THREADS AND LIKE THEY ARE SO CUTE AND COMFY INSIDEEE💗💗
Since i headcannon that Gardner! Reader to be a damn Lana Del Rey fan, their song that matches them in heaven is “young and beautiful.” As you are young and beautiful and mostly, you’re in heaven.
Literally imagine Adam just shows up to just degrade you, but it doesn’t work as you just sit there reading your daily newspaper or on your phone to just see plant and gardening instagram from earth and heaven. Adam pouts or even scoffs before taking your phone and acting like a fussy cat wanting attention.
You really don’t give a fuck about Adam but he definitely gives a fuck about you.
The angels sometimes ships you with Adam, but they also ship you with st.peter at how he is basically the house husband and you are the girl boss who works their ass off😭
Lute and Adam are definitely the type to be those teens who visit their local market..dead ass when they are free they just come to your store and just start “window shopping”…but really they just either want to mess with you or actually know about your day.
I can see you literally just chilling, and Adam busts open the store door that has that jingle bell on it so harsh and all he says is. “Wassup bitch!” With his usual grin and a soda cup as you just groan annoyed.
St.peter literally tried to work beside you ok his days off to just see how “calming” your job is. Until rush hour comes😭 that’s when hell itself unleashes with people wanting to grab any scented flower candles and flowers for theirselves. Have mercy on Peter’s soul that he doesn’t get grabbed and clawed all because he said that the last product was in the back. 😭😭
Imagine how cute your damn angel wings must be. Cause I imagine them to be some god damn fairy wings to match a beautiful aesthetic with your flower and gardening store.
I headcannon you actually had thrown Adam like how vaggie thrown the staff like in the episode of “scramble eggs.”
lol I can see you just slapping Adam with your plant vine because of one misogynist joke he made. He had the most whip lashed mark on his face. He stopped making those fücking jokes like that as he just flinches as a vine comes near him. “WALK HIM LIKE A DOGGG!!” 😘😍
Sera loves gaining flowers from you as the angelic guards bring them in as she is doing her work.
Emily also feels the same way as she smiles and makes the guard send you flowers as well for a thank you. 💗🥺 please give this sweet baby a note back saying you appreciate her damn note so much..
Imagine having a whole tea and cookie station by your front desk where people pay. Like they get a nice drink and a snack in case they were hungry and thirsty from their trip to here. 😘☀️ you care about your customers and regulars deeply.
St. Peter had one time mistook the glass doors to be opened and fell back so dramatically onto his ass, he might as well confirm himself as dead 💀
Emily most definitely actually tried to grow a plant or flower to show you how much she learnt from you, only for the damn thing to fail. She wanted to cry and shrivel up in disappointment, but you taught her and help fixed her mistake on what she did at most.
Lute most definitely acts better without Adam, of course she could act better with Adam. It’s just that Adam is her home dog, and she is Adam’s homegirl. So of course they are besties. So with Adam not interfering with you and lute talking one on one for the first time. You two get quite long to the point she grabs your hands and smile. Leaving with a flower you gave her.
Your plants just causally changing into the liked flower of the customer or regular due to your plant magic on sensing what flowers they like supposedly💗
Headcannon on how short you are. Literally you are shorter than lute to Adam and Emily. It’s really funny but to you, it’s annoying asf since Adam picks you up like a stray cat found at the front porch ready to be taken in.
Emily and sera would have tea time with you definitely. Or coffee if they prefer. You don’t gossip of course but just lift each other up and talk about hanging out later in the days or weeks later. Heck even the day later maybe if Emily is very eager.
Lute most definitely had thrown flowers in your face as she isn’t use to showing affection towards a person she actually admires. Yeah she admires Adam, as a boss and best friend. But there is something about you that makes her stumble on her words.
You had to actually stay home once, forced by sera who got told by Adam you were overworking yourself. Adam and sera hated it as sera showed go to your job looking serious. Forcing you to stay in bed until you had a good sleep for the week.
Imagine just gardener! Reader literally accidentally making Adam spit out a four leaf clover as they were saying a spell in Latin to have four leaf clovers for St. Patrick’s day.
I headcannon Adam sometimes tries to court you with his wings, and you are confused as hell as you aren’t use to being courted by some fucking feathers.
I can see you having a potted plant pet beside you. It was practically a sapling as it smiled with heaven magic and told positive affirmations to waking customers. It’s so fuckin adorable
I imagine you just sleeping as your overworked at your store and Adam comes in pissed off you didn’t come home. So he literally picks you up over his shoulder and walks Home. He has the damn key to your house but he decides to just go to his house and lay you on his bed as he sleeps on the couch grumbling.
St.Peter, after that little incident with him walking into a glass door. This mofo literally puts his hands out towards any glass door 😭 like a little kid being traumatized after a glass maze. It’s so funny but so sad.
A young heaven born had brought you back a freaking flower crown in your most favorite flowers and you were so amazed. You gave the small little angel a flower crown of their own.
The visits are always welcomed to your store as Adam brings you his own set of flowers to try to impress you. 💗 you snickered seeing the note that says, “i hope you like it..bitch. *middle finger drawing* I heard this plant was your favorite.” Sweet, but sour ass motherfuker. 😭😭
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
Text
Damian is the type to casually invite you to the batfamily annual movie night.
A night that was strictly for family only but that rule was bended a couple of times when the likes of Roy Harper and Jon Kent were invited to the supposed ‘batfamily only’ movie night; So no one really batted an eye when you walked into the cinema room and made yourself comfortable in the space next to Damian as Titus joined you both.
And Damian knew that his family didn’t mind you joining them for family night.
In fact it was something that was heavily encouraged and Damian took advantage of that.
Damian couldn’t give less of a fuck about socialising with others unless it was necessary or just unavoidable.
He only comes down for family movie night as long as he didn’t have to within close proximity of everyone else. He even once reserved the space next to him for Titus but when you came into the frame, the space once reserved for the Great Dane was now reserved for you whenever you come over for the weekend; He even once dropkicked Dick and Jason on two separate occasions for almost taking your spot.
Whenever you asked anyone why this was, everyone would share a look and feign ignorance and move on, leaving you more confused then you were before.
Jason reserves a section of his book collection just for you called ‘y/n’s recommendations to read later.’
Jason’s main books were works from Jane Austen but with you introducing him to books such as ‘before the coffee gets cold’ by Toshikazu Kawaguchi and A little life by Hanya Yanagihara, Jason had steadily began to grow a small collection of books that you recommended or reminded Jason of you whenever he reads the blurb.
He loves literature and he loves to talk about it with you but loves it even more when it’s regarding a book you’re both reading at the same time. It’s honestly his favourite thing to do in his pass time as not only does it grant his wish to spend more time with you, it also grants him a moment of calm, a moment of peace and quiet.
Something that Gotham sorely lacked.
He acts personally offended when he hears that you were one and a half chapter ahead of him because hey, you’re meant to read it with him! Not read ahead of him! He’ll pout and say you’ve betrayed his trust but he could never truly be angry at you throughly enjoying a book, he finds it unbearably cute and attractive at the same time.
He loves your little book club that you’ve formed and wouldn’t change it for anything as it was something only the two of you shared.
Dick would love rooftop dates.
They’re his favourite type of dates to take you on mainly because so he could pretended to fall off when you playfully shove him for saying some stupid shit, only to come back up per his athletic background.
‘Dick you…Dick!’ You exclaim, smacking his bicep. ‘You scared me!’
‘Sorry sweetie.’ He’d apologise but the smile on his face would remain as he drew you into his arms, making sure to keep you close to his chest as he pressed kisses into your head.
‘Fucking asshole.’ You murmur against his chest, fists clenching at the back of his shirt, reassuring yourself that he was here with you.
‘Yes I am an asshole for making my baby worry about me.’ Dick would say as he rubs your back comfortingly as a way to remind you that he was really here. He did feel like a…well a dick for scaring you but he loves the opportunity where he gets to hold you, yeah he could’ve asked you like a normal person, but Dick wasn’t exactly a normal person but that didn’t stop you from loving him with everything that you had.
‘You’re making it up to me by making my favourite as compensation.’ You said and Dick could only chuckle at your demand and press his lips to your temple. ‘As you wish cutie.’
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badgerbl00d · 7 months
Text
taking an aphrodisiac and seeing who gives in first
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☆ characters: ace, law, kidd
☆ up next: running into your ex ft. zoro
☆ summary: you take an aphrodisiac together and decide to throw in a competitive edge ; smutty, minimal plot oops
☆ a/n: this is a reupload- the original was deleted for some reason :(; requests are opened and being worked on! enjoy <3
☆ 18+, mdni
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ace
You waited until everyone was asleep to make your way over to Ace’s room. The two of you had decided it would probably be best to not say anything to anyone for a while, at least until you both had more time to get used to being together. 
It still sent shivers down your spine to think about the fact that you were actually dating.
You knocked on his door, using the knocking pattern he’d taught you exactly the way he’d insisted you did. 
“Ace, that’s dumb,” you’d insisted.
“No- I-I’m serious! What if I answer the door naked and Marco’s the one who knocked?”
“Why the hell would you be answering the door naked at all?”
“Well, you know ‘cause it’s, like, sexy.”
You stared at him and decided it would be best to just do a stupid secret knock. 
“...Okay what’s the knock.”
“Haha! Yes! Ok, so knock once, and then twice really fast- like da-dum, OK?”
“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“Good. Then you’re gonna drumroll on the door for like three whole seconds. After that alternate between left and right twice and then-”
“Ace I’m just gonna knock three times, ok?”
He rolled his eyes, “Fine.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
You waited for a few seconds before Ace opened the door for you.
He pulled you in for a kiss, a boyish smile plastered on his face.
“My knock would’ve been better.”
You giggled and followed him to his bed, pulling out the chocolate.
The two of you had been sent shopping earlier and came across a stall selling ‘enhanced’ chocolate. After some inquiry, you discovered it was an aphrodisiac, supposed to increase libido. 
You and Ace bought it, giggling like schoolgirls, and decided you’d try it tonight.
“So we just eat it and… bang?”
“Yes, Ace, we eat it and bang.”
“I meant like bang, boom, y’know?”
Well, I meant it like sex. “Here,” you broke the candy in half and handed it to him. 
“Hold on, hold on,” he sat down next to you and pulled you onto his lap, placing a flurry of kisses on your cheek before continuing, “Wanna make it more interesting?”
“Depends what you have in mind.”
“Let’s make a bet- See who lasts longer without giving in.”
You perked up at this.
“What will I get when I win?”
He laughed, “ ‘When?’ I think you mean if. Don’t get overconfident, cutie. How about… I will take you shopping for anything you want.”
“Deal.”
Ace grabbed half of the chocolate and popped it into his mouth, and you followed suit. 
He put on a kids' show you both liked in the background, it was a cute one about a boy and his stretchy dog. He said it reminded him of him and his brothers. The two of you got comfortable on the bed, you sat leaned up against a mountain of pillows, and Ace laid on you, head resting on your thighs.
You played with his hair while he rubbed your legs, as you slowly started to feel the effects of the drug. 
You could tell Ace had started to feel it as soon as he started squirming. 
When he turned over, his stomach against yours, and started to kiss your chest and tummy, you knew you’d won. 
“About that bet…” he said.
“Already?! You didn’t even try! Go sit over there.”
“I’m sorry you’re just so beautiful and soft and I’m so hard it’s starting to hurt.”
You giggled and pulled down the straps of your shirt to tease him. 
“You want this?”
He nodded eagerly. So cute. 
He reached behind you and unhooked your bra, tossing it on the floor.
He watched as your boobs bounced out, and with his hands around your waist, took one into his mouth. 
“A-ah, Ace,” you panted as his warm mouth enveloped your nipple. 
The hot, sticky wetness of his tongue felt so, so good. Your resolve immediately crumbled and you caved to his touch. 
He sucked slightly harder, his teeth gently closing around it. 
“Ace,” you whined, your hands finding their way up his back and into his hair. 
His hands were wrapped around his waist and he was laying on top of you, lined up so that his hardening dick was against your thigh. 
You felt a sudden burst of warmth emanate from his hands, sending a violently pleasurable shiver up your spine. He knew you loved when he involved his devil fruit abilities into your sexual encounters. 
You not-so-gently pulled on his hair as your back arched into his tongue that was persistently lapping at your sensitive nipple. 
He pulled away with a pop.
“M-more, Ace,” you breathed, “I want more.”
He sat up on his knees and clumsily fumbled with his pants, failing to untie the knot at the front. 
“Let me help,” you said, reaching up to untie it for him.
You made eye contact with him as you pulled down his sweats, slipping a finger into the band of his boxers.
He took in a shaky breath, his lips parted in awe. 
“You’re so pretty, you know that?”
You didn’t respond and instead pulled down his boxers. 
He was very long and pleasantly thick. 
You felt yourself getting even wetter at the memory of how he stretched you out last time.
Ace didn’t shave either, you figured he was far too impatient but it was something you absolutely loved.
You wrapped your lips around him, slowly working your way to the base, spit coating his dick. 
He placed a gentle hand in your hair, guiding you along with him as he laid back down on the bed. 
He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail and slowly bobbed your head up and down and up and down against his length- hissing as your tongue slid up his length and swirled around the tip with every movement. 
“F-feels so good,” he said.
You moaned against him, earning an involuntary shudder from your boyfriend.
You wrapped a hand around him, lightly squeezing his spit-soaked cock. 
“N-no, no, no, too much,” he whined, “Gonna cum!”
You started to move your head faster and were abruptly pulled off of him. 
“Let me fuck you first, princess, ‘m gonna cum if you keep going.”
You sighed but relented. 
“That’s the goal, baby,” you said, straddling his hips, and placing your hands on his chest.
“Then let me cum in you,” he begged. 
You lowered yourself down onto his length as he held himself in place for you, moaning as you felt that familiar stretch. 
“F-fuck,” you breathed, “You feel so good- So big.”
“Yeah? You like this position?”
He started to move his hips, fucking up into you. 
“Y-yes, Ace- Fuck! Oh, my god, d-don’t stop!”
Your breathless moans were more than enough to get him up to a delicious pace.
You pressed hot, wet kisses to his mouth, welcoming the abnormally warm sensation in your tummy. 
You knew your boyfriend ran hot and it was the most unexpectedly wonderful thing about having sex with him. 
You were sweating, covered with water droplets that were running down your body.
Ace’s hands dug into you, wet smacking sounds filling the room as you both got closer and closer. 
You cried out with every thrust, and Ace’s head was completely fogged with euphoria. 
Your stomach was twisting and tensing with pleasure, and you rapidly tapped Ace’s chest to let him know you were close. 
He brought an arm up to your throat, gently closing his hand around it. 
You grabbed onto his forearm and pulsed around him wildly as you finished all over him.
With a few more thrusts his hips started to twitch and you could tell by his erratic pace that he was close. 
“G-gonna cum, baby- Gonna cum!”
You tightened around Ace’s cock, and felt the sudden hot spurts of cum filling you up. 
When he was finished, he brushed your hair out of your face and gently tucked it behind your ears before lifting you up to pull out. 
His cum leaked out of you and all over his thighs. 
You laid down onto him, your sticky, sweaty bodies breathing in sync. 
He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head. 
You started giggling and he joined in. 
You slowly sat up and pressed a kiss to Ace’s sweaty forehead before collapsing onto the bed next to him.
He sighed and grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over yours.
“Wanna know something?” he said.
“Hm.”
“I love you!”
“I love you more! Do you wanna know something?”
“Always,” he said. 
“You lose.”
kidd
“Kidd! Hurry up,” you called him into your bedroom. 
You were sitting in bed, the covers messily thrown around you.
He walked into the room, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist, just barely dried off. 
He still had his lipstick on, not having bothered to take it off, it was smudged messily around his lips.
Water beads were running down his chest and arms, and he smelled like lavender and shampoo. 
He loved watching you get ready for bed and had started timing his showers so that he could be in the bathroom at the same time as you.
Something about the routine was so domestic- it made him feel warm inside. He’d never admit it out loud but by the third time he had made it a point to have all his work done so he could shower with you, you’d put two and two together.
He was completely entranced watching you take off your makeup, brush your hair, put on lotion like you always did, and, of course, watching you change. He’d offer to ‘help’ though, in reality, he just wanted an excuse to have his hands on you.
He sat next to you on the bed, reaching over to grab a pair of gray sweatpants you’d set out for him. 
You sat on your knees, wearing an old torn-up t-shirt of his.
In your hands were two small pieces of chocolate, that you and Kidd had been eagerly waiting to eat. 
“I'm here, darlin’,” he said, getting up to put on his pants. 
“Won’t be needing those,” you giggled.
He turned to give you a kiss on your forehead. 
“Ready?”
You kissed him, gently biting his bottom lip.
“That eager, hm?”
Kidd reached for one of the chocolates in your hand, which you moved out of his reach.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, hold on,” you were greeted with an eye roll, “I wanna make a bet.”
Impatience had been starting to show itself on his face until the word ‘bet’ fell from your lips. 
His competitiveness outweighed his short attention span. 
“What kind of bet, love?”
A devilish smile spread on your face, easily Kidd’s favorite of your many expressions, “I think you’re going to be so pathetically desperate that you’ll give in before I even feel it.”
He laughed, and your stomach twisted in anticipation at the way he looked at you after.
“Deal, baby, but what am I gonna get when I win?”
“Whatever you want.”
You blinked up at him, and he felt his dick twitch in his pants. 
His confidence momentarily faltered, before he snatched a chocolate out of your hand and ate it as he made his way out of the room toward his office. 
“I’ll be in there, baby. Working.”
You lay down on your side of the bed and waved him off, grabbing your book from your nightstand. 
You knew five minutes in that you were destined for failure. You tried to focus on the book but the lines were blurring into one another and all you could think of was how Kidd’s hands felt when they were around your throat, or smacking your ass, or pulling you closer into him by your waist. 
After an excruciating twenty minutes of resisting the pooling wetness in between your thighs, you swallowed your pride and made your way to Kidd’s office.
You lightly knocked before walking in, blushing from embarrassment. 
Kidd sat in his office chair, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, beckoning you toward him with a few pats to his lap. 
If you weren’t so achingly desperate to feel that hand grabbing and squeezing you, you would’ve given him a piece of your mind for calling you to him like a dog. 
Yet, like a dog, you obeyed and made your way toward him tail tucked between your legs.
You were dressed in nothing but the t-shirts and a pair of black and white polka dot panties. 
He pulled you onto his lap once you were close enough and you straddled him, sinking your lips eagerly into his, his lipstick smudging across both of your faces.
He loved seeing you like that- he took a guilty pleasure in seeing you marked up, be it by his lipstick or hickeys he wanted to see you completely covered. 
Pulling away from the kiss to look at your lover, you suddenly became very aware of his hardening erection that was pushed snugly against your pussy.
It dawned on you now that had you stuck it out even just a few more minutes you probably would’ve won the bet. But that was the last thing on your mind and all you could think of now was the feeling of familiar hardness against your lower half.
A breath caught in your throat and your own arousal started to soak through your panties.
You could feel your heartbeat pulsing in your clit, the throbbing sensation starting to overwhelm you.
You pawed at his chest, desperate for some kind of give, and slowly started circling your hips against him.
“You like feeling my dick against ya? Hm?”
He patted your cheek lightly when you didn’t answer and you nodded. 
“You want more?”
You nodded again, more enthusiastically this time.
He slapped your face- a little harder this time.
“I want to hear you say it,” he reminded you, holding your face in one hand, your cheeks squished together. 
“Y-yesh, captain, want more,” you moaned, picking up the pace of your grinding against his lap. 
“Sit up for me baby,” he said.
You did, raising your ass from his thighs. 
He pushed your panties to the side and ran a cold, metal finger up your slit, gathering your slick arousal onto it. 
“Ah! Please, Kidd, please. I’ve already lost, so don’t tease!”
He laughed at your desperation, “Quit whinin’ sweetheart, gimme a sec.”
He pulled the waistline of his sweatpants down and his cock sprang up, lying flat against his abdomen. 
The tip was flushed pink and dribbling pre-cum. 
Tentatively, you wrapped your small hand around the base and lightly pumped up and down. 
Kidd made no complaints so you moved your hand with more vigor. 
Your thumb swiped at the leaking slit on his head and used the arousal to pump him faster, earning heavenly moans to fall on your ears.
“Just like that, Y/n.”
You bit your bottom lip and bent down slightly to start pressing wet kisses to his throat as you pleased him.  
You worked your way up to his jaw, and pulled away to look up at him. 
He was in complete euphoria, his head leaning back against the chair, neck completely exposed to you.
You watched as his chest rose and fell, in sync with every up and down motion of your hand. 
You slowly started to get yourself down from his lap- and his head shot up.
“Oi, oi, where’re ya goin’?”
“Shh, baby, just let me make you feel good.”
You could tell he didn’t like this at all, he was always in control.
He told you when to cum, where to lick, what to do, and this was driving him insane.
But the pleasure coursing through his body left his brain feeling too good to question anything.
You knelt down on the floor in front of him and guided his hand to your hair, which he gladly held up. 
“I see,” he mused, a smile spreading on his face, “In that case, go ahead, darlin’.”
You wrapped both hands around the base of his extraordinarily thick cock, bringing the tip towards your already extended tongue.
Your hands worked in unison with your mouth, pumping him while you licked up and down his head.
When he was sufficiently worked up you enclosed your mouth over the smallest amount possible, gathering spit in your mouth.
It dribbled down the underside of his cock, providing you with the necessary lubrication to take him down your throat.
You started slow- Kidd was big and you knew you had to warm up before taking all of him. 
His grip on your hair tightened as your tongue licked the underside of his shaft, and your lips wrapped around the rest of him.
His breathing was getting faster and curses were spilling out of his throat.
You finally took him to the base, your nose getting buried in his pubes.
You gagged and your eyes started to water, but Kidd held your head in place.  
“F-fuck, shh, shh, breathe baby, breathe,” Kidd shuddered out, “Just like that, oh, good girl.”
Tears started falling from your eyes as your Captain sat back up, and started to slowly pump himself in and out of your mouth. 
You could tell by the twitching and tensing of his dick that he was getting close, and your own arousal was starting to drip down your legs. 
You sharply inhaled with every thrust he gave, holding onto his thighs to try and support yourself. 
“So good f’me,” he panted, “Gonna cum soon.”
You moaned against him as he fucked your mouth, gently cupping his balls in one hand. 
“Fuck!”
With no warning you found yourself swallowing hot spurts of cum. 
“MM! Mmf mm mmm-” KIDD! Don’t do that-
He interrupted you with a loud laugh, “Sorry darlin’ I couldn’t help it.”
You swallowed and Kidd lifted you back up onto his lap, wrapping strong arms back around your waist. 
You pulled aside your panties, letting your flooding arousal pour onto him.
You sat up on your knees, letting him rub his length up and down your slit, before slipping the head in.
You winced as you lowered your hips down, taking him fully. 
He pushed up into you once he had bottomed out, earning a generous moan from you- music to his ears. 
His hands tightened around your waist as he started to bounce you up and down, you were so wet that every slight movement was audible and filled the room with the sticky, wet sounds of you sucking him in.
He slid in and out of you so easily, and you were so tender that it wasn’t long until you were close.
With every kiss of his tip against your g-spot the coil in your stomach tightened, a strong, delicious tension pressed against the spot right beneath your tummy. 
The steady smack, smack, smack that had started to fill the room clouded your thinking and you were completely rag-dolled by Kidd who was bouncing you at a relentless pace. 
In a flash of white, hot pleasure you came- hard. Your fingernails dug into your boyfriend’s back, a few even breaking skin. Your thighs pressed against each other and you fell forward, leaning your full body weight against him. 
The both of you sat in silence for a moment, the sound of your breathing filling the room. 
Slowly, you sat up pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 
“I win.”
Kidd’s brows furrowed, “No, ya fuckin’ don’t. You came in here begging for-”
“So? I walked in and you were already hard, so I won.”
“That’s definitely not how this works, love. You walked in wetter than water-”
“HA! I did not,” you lied, “I wasn’t even wet until I sat on your lap. You’re such a sore loser-”
Kidd laughed, and pressed kisses all over your face, “You’re a terrible liar, love.”
You rolled your eyes. 
“Fine. What do you want as a prize?”
Kidd pulled you closer to him, your breath getting gently pushed out as your chest pressed against his. 
“I want more.”
law
You flipped through the pages of a special Valentine’s Day magazine, dog-earing the pages of clothing shops and restaurants you wanted to visit with your boyfriend when he had time. 
He was sitting at his desk, just a few feet away from you organizing medical files and equipment into his drawers. 
His music was playing in the background, out of a small speaker you got him for his twenty-fifth birthday. 
A smooth saxophone melody danced over a relaxing, steady drum beat. 
He loved jazz.
Helps me concentrate, he’d said. 
It had grown on you after a year of listening to it every night and there were few things you found yourself enjoying more than these late nights with your boyfriend, each of you doing your own thing while still enjoying the other’s company. 
You were the cutest, sweetest thing in the world to Law, and on nights like these, he liked watching you when you thought he was completely absorbed in his work.
He watched as you’d read, play a video game, or map out your next course. 
Laying on your stomach, you swished your feet in the air behind you, gently rocking them to and fro- a sign Law knew far too well.
“Bored, baby?”
You stilled your feet, feeling guilty that he noticed.
“A little,” you admitted, “And this magazine is making me sad.”
He quirked an eyebrow, asking for elaboration.
“It’s full of cute romantic stuff to do, but who knows if we’ll even get a chance. What with being outlaws and all.”
He smiled and put away the rest of the mess in front of him before sitting on the bed next to you.
You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, and laid your head down against his shoulder. 
“If you want to go to any of these places, you just let me know and we’ll go. Any marines or bounty hunters that try to intervene will be sorry.”
You giggled, “Should we plan out our Valentine’s Day then?”
He nodded.
“But first, I have something for you.”
You sat up at this, looking up at him with your big doe eyes.
He pulled out a small piece of chocolate from his pocket. 
“Oh! Thank you! Is it dark chocolate ‘cause I don’t like the other kinds-”
You reached for it, but Law pulled back before you could grab it.
“Tsk, tsk- Hold on, my love. 
We’re going to split it.”
You found it somewhat odd that you’d split such a small piece of chocolate and furrowed your brows, earning a laugh from your boyfriend who was unwrapping the candy.
“It’s an aphrodisiac.”
Oh! Your eyes widened, and eagerness pooled into them.
He froze for a second, “Shit- wait! Should I have waited until Valentine’s Day? This would’ve been a good surprise, dammit.”
You laughed out loud at his sudden change in demeanor and quickly reassured him that it was perfectly fine.
“Good to have a test round anyway, no?”
He kissed your forehead and handed you a piece. 
As you ate he continued, “To make it a little more interesting, you’re gonna go to the library and I’ll go to the operation room. Whoever gives in first loses.”
“What constitutes giving in?”
“Asking for sex.”
You stood up, stretching your body out, fingertips extending toward the roof. 
Walking out you stood at the doorway, turning to look back at your lover.
“You’re gonna lose.”
“I am? Oh, but what if I do this,” he said before he suddenly stood up and walked toward you, “Please, Y/n.”
Your panties flooded upon hearing these words, so sickly sweet and needy, and you pressed your thighs together.
Law slowly knelt on the floor in front of you, placing a large hand on the outside of each of your thighs.
He sank lower before you and pressed soft kisses up your legs, stopping at your knees.
Your heartbeat quickened and you could hear your breathing, now made up entirely of fast inhales and exhales like your lungs were trying to catch up with the frenzied, eager mess between your thighs. 
A hand made its way between your knees and Law looked up to you, as though asking for permission to part them. 
Your lips were parted and glossy, you looked so sweet and cute that he could feel his cock throbbing in his pants, the denim tightening around it. 
This kind of eagerness, this lust that filled him had been completely unknown to him before meeting you. 
He pushed your legs apart and his tongue attached to your left thigh, licking a long, wet stripe up it, stopping right before your pussy.
It took immense willpower to not give in right then and there, to not sink his tongue and lips into your wet, dripping heat. To stop himself from indulging in that feeling of the fat of your pussy smothering his face.
But he instead turned to your right thigh, licking and biting his way up it, marking your legs with love marks. Littered hues of dark browns and purples mixed with vibrant reds and pinks covered your thighs. 
Your bottom lip trembled as you ignored every sensation traveling in and on your body. Your nerves were aching, screaming for you to ask Law to touch you. Beg him, if you had to.
But you resisted- blinking back the tears that pooled on your lower lash line in an attempt to refocus. 
The surgeon took note of your resolve and decided to make it crumble.
He lifted your shirt up and over your head and unhooked your bra.
He watched, with an unnerving intensity as your tits jiggled around and softly pinched at your nipples.
Your cheeks were hot to the touch and goosebumps flooded your skin. 
“A-ah-,” you moaned as he started to lick and suck your nipples, getting rougher and rougher. He held your breasts in his hands and pushed them against each other, sloppily licking over any and everything he could reach with his tongue. 
You openly moaned now, completely overcome by the euphoric sensation you were feeling.
His tongue was soft and warm and wet and sticky and felt so, so good over your aching breasts that had been eager for his touch. 
“L-law, please- Oh, my god, yes! Yes,” you whined and writhed under his touch.
He pulled away with a pop, “You like it that much, bunny?”
You fervently nodded and your hands found their way onto his head, tangling themselves in his dark black hair. 
“C’mere, baby,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss.
You snaked your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, savoring how he tasted. 
Pressing a hand against your chest, he laid you down on the couch and grabbed your legs placing them over his shoulders.
Your stomach tensed up, and you could feel your desperate pussy start to twitch. 
He lowered himself so he was level with your soaked panties and placed a kiss right on top of your clothed clit, earning a series of pathetic whines from you. 
You reintroduced your hands to his hair, gently pulling and tugging him toward your needy heat. 
“This is what you want?” 
He ran a long finger up and down your slit.
“Yes! Please, please Law. E-eat me out, ‘m so so wet for you,” you begged.
He pushed your panties to the side, and with a pointed tongue, licked up and down your slit- never quite touching your clit. He gathered the slick pouring out of your hole on his tongue and spit it back onto your pussy.
The teasing continued as he sucked and softly bit your lips, licking everywhere but the aching bundle of nerves that you could feel throbbing.
“Don’t tease!” you cried, desperate for him to give you what you wanted. 
 He laughed and with torturous slowness, started to lick your pulsing bud.
It was euphoric- waves of hot, warm pleasure flooded your body as you sunk your nails into the couch cushions, moans spilling from your lips.
He knew exactly what he was doing, where you liked him to apply more pressure, and where to ease off. 
He had an iron grip on your thighs, dimpling the flesh where his fingers held onto you.
Your moans got less consistent and more strained as you got closer.
“Just like that, baby,” you panted, “Gonna cum!”
As he heard this, he pulled you even closer toward his mouth and your back slid down the wall.
His grip tightened on your thighs and would have been painful if not for how sweetly he was eating you out. 
The obscene wet sounds of licking and slurping and sucking echoed off the walls of his room and you felt your core tightening as you got closer, your hips bucking up into Law’s face out of desperation. 
In a split second, the winding cord snapped and you gasped, digging your hands into the tangled mess that was Law’s hair. 
He slowly pulled his face away from your pussy completely soaked.
He had a drunk look in his eyes and you could already feel yourself wanting more.
Law picked you up, palming your ass, and carried you back to his bed. 
The clock read 6:34 a.m. when the two of you finally went to shower. 
Law did most of the work for you, as you were about ready to pass out. 
He pressed soft kisses on your soapy shoulders and dried you off when you were done. 
He went and grabbed your favorite pajamas for you and tucked you into bed with a soft kiss. 
“And by the way, my love.” 
You turned to look at him, lips still puffy from his assault on them. 
Law took a moment to appreciate the way your nipples poked through the thin silk of your nightgown, and how gently your chest rose and fell as you started to fall asleep. 
He sat next to where you lay on the bed, running a hand through your hair and rubbing circles on your back.
You turned up to look at him, beckoning for him to kiss you.
He bent down, your lips practically touching. 
As a sly smile spread over your face you told him, 
“Technically speaking, I win.”
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macabr3-barbi3 · 1 month
Text
CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)
Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282
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The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes
Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers
<3<3<3<3<3<3
Your new boss seemed stressed. 
Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.
You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 
Right over his head. 
He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 
He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 
“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”
“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”
God, but you wanted to be.
He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”
His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”
“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”
Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.
You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.
“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.
The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.
You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.
He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.
Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.
You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.
You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 
You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.
As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”
You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”
He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”
“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”
“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”
You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.
“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.
A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”
“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”
You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”
He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”
You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.
You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”
You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 
After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.
Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 
There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 
Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.
“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”
This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”
“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.
You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.
“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”
One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”
“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.
His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.
“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”
“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.
“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?
He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.
“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.
Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.
“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.
With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 
“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 
“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.
“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“
Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 
It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.
“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”
He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”
“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“
“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”
“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”
The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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not sure if you’re taking requests buttttt poly!marauders but they’re kinda overprotective bfs and she sneaks out to go to a party with marlene or her girlfriends but they find out and show up at the party 💞
Hi don't worry, I am! I think it should show on the requests page linked in my pinned post, but please let me know if it doesn't, I'm still figuring tumblr out and often mess up! I hope this is alright honey, I tried to go for the angst but honestly the more I write the more suspicious I become of my inability to write our boys being anything other than soft with reader! I'll try to work on it but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this <33
cw: mention of concussion symptoms, including nausea, nothing intense or even very descriptive though
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 906 words
You’re aware that the internet had said you were supposed to avoid bright lights, loud sounds, and movement when Remus had looked it up after an unfortunate fall that morning. Just like you’re aware that when your boyfriends left you at your apartment a few hours ago, they’d been trusting you to follow those instructions. But you’re also aware that the internet had led you all to believe your concussion was mild, and that Marlene only has one birthday a year. Damned if you were going to miss it. 
So yeah, you feel a bit queasy as your eyes struggle to track the movement and voices around you, but that’s nothing compared to the contentment of being with your friends. Lily has assigned herself the role of your caretaker, checking that you’re alright every few minutes and shushing anyone who raises their voice too loud around you, and Marlene has attached herself to your side, telling you how much she appreciates you in between beer-scented hiccups. 
“And you’re so nice to come tonight,” she’s saying now, brushing her fingers clumsily but sweetly through your hair. “I can’t tell you how much—uh oh.” 
You have a premonition of ill fate even before the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you follow Marelene’s unfocused gaze to the curly-haired boy coming towards you.
“Happy birthday, Marls,” he says, his smile only appearing slightly strained, before he turns to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”
“Jamie,” you say quietly, and Lily and Marlene leave the couch to give you as much privacy as a party allows. “What are you doing here?”
“Everyone here’s been posting, and you’re in the background of half the pictures.” His smile slips as he crouches in front of you, disappointment in his eyes. “You know you’re supposed to be resting,” he says softly. “C’mon, let’s go.” 
You’re glad that he’s here instead of Remus or Sirius, who surely wouldn’t be as careful about not embarrassing you. James is less stern than the others, and though you feel a bit guilty for doing so, you press that to your advantage. 
“I haven’t drank anything but water,” you say. “That’s gotta count for something, right? And look.” You brush your hair behind your ear, showing him the earplugs you’d put in before arriving. “I’m being careful, see? I’m alright, Jamie, and it’s Marlene’s birthday. Let’s just stay, both of us, okay?”
James looks nearly apologetic. “Remus and Sirius are waiting in the car.” 
You groan, but allow James to pull you to your feet, waving goodbye to your friends with a pout. He supports more of your weight than you really need him to as he walks you outside, where Remus sits in the drivers’ seat of the idling car. Dread settles, along with dull resignation, in your stomach. 
Sirius is in the backseat and you hope James will get in first, but he lifts you in before him, placing you between two of your three upset boyfriends. You can’t look at any of them, allowing James to buckle your seatbelt for you as an oppressive silence, worse than the bass that had brutalized your head inside Marlene’s, stretches out between you. 
True to form, Sirius is the first to breach it. 
“What the hell were you thinking?”
You sigh. “I’m sorry.” 
“You have a concussion! All you had to do was stay home and rest. That website said that lights and loud music—say, the sort of things you’d find at a party—would only make things worse.” 
Normally, you’d argue with him. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how obvious it is that Sirius is going to win, you can always meet him head-on and at least make your point. But tonight, with your head throbbing and something about your very being feeling fundamentally wrong, you can’t muster up the energy. 
“I know,” you say. 
Sirius goes silent at the acquiescence in your voice, and he looks at Remus in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to proceed. James puts a hand on your knee, a tiny gesture of comfort even though he’s upset with you too. The motivation that had driven you to Marlene’s and through the party is wearing off, and you feel suddenly, embarrassingly teary. 
“Do you feel sick?” Remus speaks for the first time, and though his voice is calm, the absence of his usual terms of endearment leave no doubt that you’re still in trouble. 
You clear your throat of the tears that are trying to clog it. “A little.” 
“We’re bringing you to our place to rest.” It’s not a question. “We can go get some things from your place tomorrow, but tonight you can just wear our stuff. Think you can eat something before bed?” 
It’s worse that he’s being kind to you. You’d been prepared for a lecture, but being taken care of is worse. It brings the vulnerability you’ve felt since the frightening pain and dizziness of that morning to the surface, and you keep your face turned towards your lap as your eyes become wet. “Yeah, I think so,” you say, and your voice cracks slightly when you add, “I’m sorry.” 
Sirius makes a sympathetic, pained sound from beside you, and James abandons all pretense of anger, tucking your head under his chin. 
“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus says, a bit more gently. “For now, just try to relax.” 
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priniya · 10 months
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📸 BETTER THAN REVENGE
synopsis. after a fight with sirius, regulus comes to his girlfriend sulking and she decides to have a little talk with his older brother.
notes. regulus black x malfoy!reader
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you and regulus had many more similarities than anyone could guess just by simply looking at the two of you. the most obvious included your background — ancient, pureblood families, who were nuts about purity, both in slytherin, both richer than most of the hogwarts students together, and in everyone’s eyes you were petty, stubborn and pretentious.
you two were petty and seemed pretentious, but it wasn’t all that. the two of you both had siblings, who maybe cared about you in some way, but never showed it well enough for you to be sure they cared. you were sure sirius cared, but you weren’t sure if lucius did. your brother was far from being a family guy.
both you and regulus were also painfully ambitious, and it kind of made the two of you so close as you were paired to one group in slughorn’s classes, and to secure yourself a top spot, you had to work together. and so half a year later, you were planning a trip to france, lying next to each other on the bed in his dorm.
after that one summer everything has changed, and now you two were an official couple, though not many people knew since neither of you wanted to make a big deal out of it. the amount of classes you shared had shrunken since you took different ones, but it just made your bond stronger.
it all happened on a week before both of you were supposed to return to your respective houses (though, regulus would be staying at potter’s), you were wrapping your present for barty, when your boyfriend stormed into the room. pandora, who sat there with you, claimed she would leave you two alone and left. you could easily see that something happened from the look on his face.
“reg,” you began, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden appearance. “is everything alright, love?” a soft ask left your lips as he just laid down on your bed, face buried in a pillow.
silence filled your room right after you finished your sentence. it was time for you to just sigh quietly, putting a hand on his back and scratching it gently. “you know you can talk to me, right?” your soft tone and the sensation of your nails on his back made him grunt.
“i’m not leaving for christmas.” he stated, catching you a little off guard. you were sure it was about the upcoming christmas ball that slughorn threw and since you were invited, regulus was ought to go with you. “i… got into a fight with sirius, so either we make up or i’m gonna go to my parents.” now, he was looking at you with misery and sadness flickering in his eyes.
“he thinks james is more of a brother to him than i am.” regulus adds, his head now resting on top of your laps as you play with his hair, trying to comfort him at least a little. “and he says it’s not that big of a deal, since i consider evan and barty my brothers and i’d probably say that they’re more of brothers to me than he is, but that’s not true.”
his words made your heart ache. it was clear to everyone in your friend group (including remus, who often just tagged along) to know how much regulus needed sirius’ validation, how much he needed to be reassured that he doesn’t hate him as much as regulus thought he did.
“i know we haven’t talked until he moved out, but it still hurts.” he whispered, not even looking you in the eyes. “and he doesn’t even recognize how much he means to me. he’s the only one in our entire family that matters more than everything. i got his initials and constellations tattooed and he thinks i would choose barty and evan over him?”
“you’re brother is an idiot, and i mean it.” you murmured, showering his head with kisses. if regulus was in his usual mood, he would say he just acts like an idiot, but now? he didn’t even want to defend him. “i’ll stay with you. i’d go nuts if i had to spend a minute with lucius.” you say softly, fingers running through his hair.
it took you a few more minutes to comfort him enough to leave your dorm for his evening practice, and even though you were supposed to finish packing your presents before christmas. you had to talk to one, annoying gryffindor, who was no other than sirius black.
getting into their common room was easy, lily, friend of a friend of yours, let you in after hearing your explanation, showing you how to get into sirius’ dorm that he shared with james, remus and peter. “one of you better hold me or i might kill your friend.” you let out, looking specifically remus, who looked at you with a glint of surprise.
“what did he do again?” lupin asked, his expression scolding. “what’re you doin’ here, malfoy?” peter began, but before he could elaborate, remus put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head as you looked for the perfect words.
“how can you be such an asshole, black?” you hissed, the end of your wand pointed at his throat. “one time you’re all on being the best older brother you can, but next time all i see in yourself is my brother, and believe me, that’s the furthest from a compliment.”
“i’m not done, yet.” your teeth gritted, eyes narrowed at him. “he’d never choose anyone over you, yet you’d always choose him —” you looked at james for half a second, then turned your eyes to sirius, again. “— over your own brother, who’d jump into flames just if you asked him to? unbelievable.” you sighed, putting your wand down, sliding it into your boot. “and you know what’s the worst in all that? that i wish he’d pick anyone else over you, but he won’t, because he can’t even get mad at you for not choosing him, he’s just sad.”
the atmosphere in the room is so tense, someone could cut it with knife. “you’re an idiot for making regulus feel so little about himself, and y’all are idiots for letting him.” another sight left your lips as your eyes were locked with sirius. “maybe even regulus will let you treat him like shit, but i won’t, black. i’ll make sure to haunt your dreams and turn them into nightmares, i can promise you that.” you gave him your most ironical smile. “i’m a malfoy, don’t underestimate me, cutie pie.” you sent him a wink,
“protective girlfriend, huh?” remus chuckled as you passed him, giving you a high-five. “oh you bet, lupin.” and you left, sirius almost shamless at your sudden outburst, but… it was quite impressive — though, he’d never admit it.
you haven’t seen neither of them till the next morning at breakfast, when they walked to the great hall together, talking about something until each of them got to their respective tables. “what did you do?” regulus asked, sitting on the bench beside you.
“what?” you asked with a sweet smile, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “just had a small talk with sirius, why?”
“a small talk? with the tip of your wand pressed against his throat?” you nodded at his words, sending him a fake-puzzled look. “you know i love you?” he bit back a smile, leaning closer to whisper those words right to your ear.
“oi, malfoy.” barty started, interrupting your somehow intimate moment with regulus. “theoretically, if i paid you, could you do that to me as well? that must’ve looked bloody hot.” crouch grinned, getting a light punch on the shoulder from your boyfriend.
“i would rather not touch you, crouch. i don’t know where the hell have you been.” you laughed, your head resting on regulus’ shoulder as his arm was wrapped around your waist. “don’t worry, baby. if any of them bothers you, i can fight.” you winked at him playfully.
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seeingivy · 3 months
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heart to heart
ryomen sukuna x f!reader
**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic
previous part linked here
--
sukuna realizes that he’s falling in love with you on the anniversary of his grandfather's death. it’s rather morbid, but he deems that it’s fitting. 
the more that he lingered on it, the more he realized it. that family – good and bad – was always going to hum in the background to the two of you. though he supposes that’s just because you grew up together, that somehow you were intertwined in all of each other’s firsts. 
first day of school, first basketball game, first funeral. 
the day itself isn’t one that sukuna likes to dwell on – a memory colored dark, pushed so hard into the deepest, darkest spots of his mind, that sometimes he only realizes the day has passed a week after the fact. regardless, whenever the realization comes to a head – on time or not – the regret is so suffocating he can barely breathe. 
it’s why he makes every effort to avoid you when the day comes to pass. it’s something that he does with everyone – ignore them like he has the plague. but it’s a little bit different when it comes to you. it’s not personal, he muses, but at the same time, it most definitely is. 
you’re central to the memory. 
sukuna’s sitting up, an idle text being sent to both yuuji and his mom, when the knock on the door comes. and he can feel pressure increase in his throat at the sight of you – his brain feeling heavy, this time in a different way – as you balance two mugs in your hand. 
if it was any other day, sukuna would have found it very difficult to contain himself. the messy bedhead, glasses perched on the edge of your nose, and the fact that you’re drowning in one of his dress shirts. 
sometimes he wondered if you did it on purpose. tried to rile him up just to see how he would react. though on second thought, he almost knows for a fact that you hardly understood what exactly it was that you did to him. how you made his skin feel like it was on fire. 
you sit across from him, setting both of the mugs down on the nightstand, before you press your fingertips to his collarbone and push him back on the headboard to use his body as a pillow. you can hear a scoff before sukuna’s hands tangle around your waist, his fingertips ghosting the waistband of what he recognizes as his boxer briefs. 
“you know, part of your whole freeloading in my apartment agreement was that you’d steal my shirts. not my underwear too.” 
you poke his chest. 
“freeloading? need i remind you, that you basically beg me not to leave each time i’m here. and i’m sorry. i spilled the first batch of hot chocolate i made all over my pajamas and my spares are in the laundry.” you state. 
hot chocolate. 
sukuna knows for sure that you must be doing that on purpose. and that maybe you watch him as keenly as he watches you, because you catch on to his discomfort just as fast. 
“i’m sorry if it’s too much.” you whisper. 
you watch his adam’s apple bob in his chest, as he leans his head back against the headboard and shuts his eyes. you trace little stars into his skin, right under the tattooed flesh as you try to talk, as softly as possible. 
like he’ll run off if you push too hard. 
“sukuna. i-i know that this day can be hard. but we can do whatever you want today.” 
“i have work.” he states. 
“no, you don’t. satoru told me you took the day off already. that you always take it off. and suguru asked me to take care of you.” 
sukuna rolls his eyes. idiots. 
“what about yuuji? knowing you two, you’ve probably got some whole orate tradition you do. probably use my headshot as a dartboard.” 
“it’s actually your yearbook photo.” you defend. 
sukuna smiles. 
“megumi and nobara have got him covered. i’m here for you.” you state. 
sukuna looks down at you, before quickly looking away. he can’t stand your eyes. 
“s’just another day, y/n. if anything, you should get the fuck out of my house. make sure my sensitive brother is fine.” 
sukuna watches your eye twitch. he feels bad, but swallows it down. 
you lift your hands up to cup the sides of his cheek, lightly rubbing your thumbs under his eyes until they open. his light brown eyes flicker to yours and the message comes off just as he intends it. 
don’t. 
sukuna should have known you’d be stubborn about it. 
“sukuna. s’not really fair if we have a power dynamic.” 
“i’m two years older than you. you are well of age.” he deadpans. 
“i mean. when i tell you about what’s on my mind – insecurities or-or my fights with yuuji or even mazzy – it’s not just spilling out of me because you’re my boyfriend. like i’m so emotional that i rant about my problems to everyone. it’s actually more natural for me to put it away. and i purposely don’t for you.” 
sukuna’s intrigued. 
“i’m trying to do this right. like, not withhold things from you because i know that you would hate that. the same way that i would hate it, if that’s what you were going to do with me.” you respond. 
you rest your cheek against his collarbone, before bending down to press a kiss into his skin. 
“s’not a nice feeling. the conversations we have make me feel like i’m standing naked in front of a classroom on display sometimes. but it’s –” you start. 
“that sounds like an ideal situation to me.” 
you pinch his bicep. 
“i mean. it’s not always easy to feel so bare. but i know it’s the right thing to do. and you kind of have to let me in too. i know it might not seem like that to you, because you fell into the caretaker role so quickly with me, but – i’m usually the one who does that type of thing, with everyone else. and i’m not half bad at it.” 
sukuna watched you take care of yuuji his whole life. in the moments that sukuna wasn’t there, he knows that you were the one sitting at his side. especially when he took off so fast like he did.
it’s partly the reason that he was able to do it. because he knew that yuuji would be taken care of – and well, too. but it almost feels wrong, too immature of him to go to you with his problems. 
how are you ever supposed to come to him again? 
“c’mon, baby. anything you want today. we can go back home and eat at the diner. or go to his grave. stay in the entire weekend…” you hum. 
it’s the first time that sukuna’s ever heard you use a term of endearment on him. he was never short of them, a constant cycle of his favorites – pretty girl, doll face, angel. it almost seemed wrong to call you by your name at this point, not when he could so openly express his affections and watch you smile at the fact. 
but sukuna likes it more than he wants to. being called baby. he never wants you to say anything else again. 
he always thought it was a little stupid, an infantile or immature nickname when he watched satoru call suguru as such. especially the way satoru always seemed to beam whenever he did it. he’ll be sure to swallow his retorts the next time. 
“i want to go to the sushi place. back home.” he states. 
you scoff. 
“oh my god. i went on my first date there. got felt up near that fountain.” you respond, scrunching up your nose. 
“i got a handjob near that fountain.” sukuna states. 
“ew. don’t tell me you….in the fountain?” 
he only grins in response. 
“ew, sukuna! you’re such a dog.” 
“i’ll have mai bring me a nice dress. we’ll go the whole ten miles on a fancy date, like everyone from high school. if you’re lucky, i might even let you touch my butt.” 
“could i be so lucky?” he asks. 
you pinch the side of his cheek. his response is pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 
“do you have a pink dress?” he asks. 
“sure do. i’ll have her bring that one, okay?” 
--
sukuna drives you to the sushi restaurant. the ride into town is quiet. you’d almost think that sukuna was mad at you for pushing, but his warm hand resting on your thigh silences almost all the qualms in your head. 
when you make it there, the mere fact of being there with sukuna leaves you with an odd thought. that if things were different beforehand, you would have been fifteen standing there with him, instead of leaving the restaurant feeling oddly dissatisfied from a guy who really wanted nothing to do with you instead.
“sukuna. party of two.” 
“it’ll just be five minutes.” 
sukuna gives a kurt nod before dragging you to the other side to lean against the wall, his hand warm on your waist. you pick your brain at the best thing to say – his uncharacteristic silence brimming you with anxiety and making you particularly hyper-vigilant in choosing the right thing to say to him. 
"you're beautiful, you know that?" he whispers.
you fight the urge to smile so hard.
"thank you, sukuna. you're beautiful too."
he glares at you.
"you're shitty."
you smirk, before pinching the side of his cheek. of course that was his reaction.
"you're such a cutie pie little baby sometimes I just wanna-" you coo.
"shut the fuck up before I make you." he responds.
"ooh. so scary!"
“i came here for the first time with my grandpa. i'll even tell you about it if you stop being a little bitch for a second.” 
you stop.
“yes, sir. ” you respond, saluting. 
sukuna smiles in response and it makes your heart skip a beat. that and the fact that you swear you've never seen his eyes so soft.
“so basically –” sukuna starts 
“sukuna, y/n? is that you?” 
you look over to your left to find one of your old neighbors – so old that you can barely even remember his name – standing at your sides, excitedly waving at the two of you. 
“god, it’s been years! you two are so grown now.” 
“mr. soma.” sukuna responds.
you find yourself grinning ear to ear at the fact that one, sukuna’s tone is entirely displeased. and two, that there’s no pleasantry laced in with his words. 
“y/n. how is your dad? i haven’t seen him around in a while.” 
the taste in your mouth is metallic. 
“couldn’t tell you! i haven’t seen him either.” you state. 
his face pinches up, the pitiful expression that follows causing a subsequent clenching of your jaw. 
“sukuna. how’s your father?” 
“still a dick.” he states. 
you smile. the way he seems to flinch at the bluntness, at sukuna’s demeanor, is solace enough for the double dose of shitty dad comments. he gives you both a polite smile before skirting off, after an awkward round of small talk. university, work, yuuji and sammy and he's off.
you turn to sukuna, placing a hand on his shoulder. 
“you okay?” 
“obviously. a dumbass with a shitty attitude won’t ruin my mood when i’m here with you. are you?” 
“me too.” 
sukuna smirks at you. 
“really? you're not internalizing every awkward experience that happens to you? have i entered a parallel universe today?” 
“i’m a mystery, idiot. you can spend forever trying to figure me out.” 
“planning on it.” he responds. 
sukuna splits all his sushi with you. if you like a certain plate, he almost refuses to touch it afterwards, just to let you finish all the pieces. and after you say you’re too full, he’s does the job for you – only because you say that you feel bad leaving it to waste when they took the time to make it.
it’s strawberry ice cream afterwards and he makes it very clear that it's only because it’s your favorite. you swing by the store when you get back into the city and eat straight from the tub on the kitchen island.
and over your shared spoon of dessert, sukuna’s voice is almost so quiet you can barely hear it. you think that the ice cold sensation curbs any warm anxiousness that would stop him normally from talking – and you thank your cravings for it.
“my grandpa was the first person who took care of me.” 
you press your cheek to his shoulder in response, rubbing circles into his palm as he talks. 
“I know it's a natural thing. that when you have a younger sibling, that it takes the attention away from you. i know logically that i had that attention, that i required it when i was a baby too.” 
"but?"
"but yuuji's so fucking likeable. i love the idiot and it feels like shit to admit, but i fucking hated that everyone almost forgot about me just because of him."
you pause.
“it’s hard not to like you too.” you state. 
“but you know what i mean. i liked taking care of him, until i didn't. he got older and...and sometimes it felt like he didn't even fucking care about half the things i did for him. at one point, i got sick of watching everyone fawn over him so much that it made me upset. i told my mom but...you know how she can be. didn't really register for her. ” 
you hum in response. 
“my grandpa must have noticed that i had a little bit of resentment towards him, especially when i was in eighth grade. started getting in fights and acting out and all that. and he brought me here. and-and i was pissed at him that i just started fucking yelling at him. about how he didn’t care about me and how i felt unwanted and under-appreciated and…and he agreed with me.” 
he pauses, bringing one of his hands up to your hair. 
“i like feeling appreciated. valued enough that someone will listen to me and actually believe it. that he wanted to be around me too.” he states.
you pause, your heart clenching so hard in your chest. your stomach nearly drops at the sentiment, at the memory that you can feel tears in your eyes. you’re murderous hatred for sukuna and yuuji’s dad only grows tenfold with every consecutive day – but feels particularly potent now. 
you immediately tilt your head up, in efforts to curb yourself from crying – when you’re the one who should be strong for him right now. he, of course, notices right away. 
“eh? what’s wrong with you?” 
“allergies.” 
“did you miraculously get stung by a bee in the past few seconds while we were sitting here?” 
you scoff. 
“you’re so obsessed with me. you even memorized my medical history!” 
“that was in no way romantic. god forbid i know a basic fact about you so you don’t like, literally die on me. now tell me what it is. you basically have to because my grandpa is dead, you know?” 
“are you really playing the dead grandpa card?” 
“the fact that you called it that was fucking offensive. now you have to tell me.” 
you roll your eyes. 
“i was just thinking about that day. it makes my heart break that you lost someone who made you feel understood. that you felt alone, even though we were all right there. i hope you know that i find it hard to drag myself away from you sometimes. you're like the only place i want to be." you murmur. 
the year before sukuna left, he got into fights often. you remember it vividly – the fact that his mom always seemed to be at your house crying to your mom, while you and yuuji lingered by the doorway for too long listening when you shouldn’t have. 
and he’d shuffle in hours later, a purple eye or bloodied knuckles – a wall of silence with zero explanation. 
but the worst part is that the one time he got in serious trouble, enough to constitute needing to be picked up from the police station, was cosmically the worst possible day it could have happened. 
because sukuna’s grandfather was already dead when you guys got the call. you had all been phoning him for hours and unbeknownst to you, the reason he didn’t pick up is because his phone had gotten taken away. and his mom, yuuji – they were so struck in their own grief that your mom had taken you and sammy with her to go get him. 
and now when you think of it – the thought of him sitting there all alone when you found him, the fact that he was sitting there feeling misunderstood made you cry. it was enough to know that you had all unleashed horrible news on him, but even worse to know you were the one to rip his grandfather away from his life. 
“i remember that you were the one who told me.” he states. 
you nod, affirming his memory. 
“you…you were all quiet. was kind of expecting your mom to give me an earful, about being responsible for my mom and yuuji. but she was just quiet. sammy didn’t even look at me. and when i saw you, you were crying. came up right by my side and apologized. you were the first person to give me condolences. made me hot chocolate when you got home because you didn’t know what else to do.” he states. 
“yeah. i wish i was more composed or…or could have at least said something better to you. and i still kind of suck with words but i…i hope this helps? at least a little?” you mumble. 
sukuna leans forward, curbing any follow-up sentiment you could have had with his lips. you can still taste the strawberry. you murmur against his lips – him pulling you back in every time you try to pull away. 
“did you kiss me to shut me up?” you ask. 
“do you want a cookie for figuring that one out, genius?” he responds. 
you lightly push his chest. 
“you’re such a dickhead! let me do the whole supportive, caring girlfriend thing. i can’t just leave you hanging, you know.” 
sukuna rolls his eyes.
“doll face.” he deadpans. 
you glare at him. 
“you are perfect.” 
you’re caught off guard. 
“i’ve never told anyone any of that before. never even met someone i’ve wanted to tell. quit fucking worrying yourself over whether or not it was good or bad. i’m half convinced that you could be my remedy to anything.” 
you can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks at the praise. you bundle the fabric of his collar in your shirt before you pull him forward, pressing your lips to his as softly as you can. 
“someone feeling bold today?” he murmurs against your lips. 
his hand is warm on your face, cupping the side of your cheek. and when you lean forward, the warmth that surges through you is so deep that you think you might have kissed sukuna too hard. because now you’ve backed him up against the wall, your fingers quickly rushing down the buttons of his shirt. 
sukuna’s quick to stop you. hands warm on your wrists and brown eyes widened. 
“what are you doing?” he whispers. 
“oh. oh, i don’t know. it…it just kinda came over me. sorry. just like..felt super close to you there for a second and i felt it like…rumbling in my chest.” 
sukuna’s brings his forehead against yours. his eyes are pinched shut, almost straining, his breaths quiet. 
“i want to do something. but you have to tell me if it’s going to make you feel uncomfortable.” you ask.
“okay.” sukuna responds.
“don’t even think about fucking lying to me. i’ll know.” 
"yeah right."
“i mean it.” you grates. 
“just tell me.” he responds.
“okay, but-” 
“y/n l/n.” 
you pause.
“can you take a bath with me?” 
he pulls back. 
“what?”  
“a bath. suguru gifted us these bath salt and stuff. he said it was a gift for you. told me you like that kind of thing.” 
“he's always gifting some weird therapy shit to me.” he states.
"therapeutic." you correct.
“one day i’m going to curb your fucking attitude and you’re not going to like it one bit.” 
you smile. 
“i hate you. i’ll take my bath on my own then.” you respond.
he yanks hard on his arm. 
“okay. if it's uncomfortable, we get out.” 
you nod. you get in first, quickly leaing against the wall and hiding under the warm bubbles, as he follows suit. weirdly enough, sukuna's first instinct is to go to the other side, the farthest from you, but you stop by pulling on his wrist.
"c'mhere. just lean against me." you murmur.
it’s a little bit awkward at first. because sukuna's the one wound up instead of you.
“can you relax for me?” you whisper.
“right. sorry.” 
he leans back, your skin prickling, as he settles his head against your chest. he's looking up at you, his eyes fixed on yours, but you can’t help but stare at his skin - freckles and moles that you’ve never had the opportunity to notice sparkling his skin. 
“thank you.” he whispers. 
“for?” 
he scoffs.
“y/n.” he chides. 
“use your big boy words!” you coo.
“shut the fuck up.” 
“c’mon. you've got it in you.” 
“you know what i want to say.” 
“of course i do. i know you’re really glad that i have an innie belly button instead of an outie.”
sukuna nearly chokes on his spit.
“i beg your pardon?” 
“i know that outies freak you out. you don’t have to say it.” 
sukuna stops himself from saying it. 
that he's falling in love with you. 
it’s right on the tip of his tongue. but he knows that it’s too fast so he swallows it down. that and the fact that it would be fucking insane if he said that to follow up your stupid joke about inne and outie belly buttons.
“baby, we should really donate your brain to science. i think you could advance neuroscience fifty years into the future.” sukuna states. 
“take that back, asshole.” you respond.  
“make me.” 
you yank hard on his hair, before fixing your hands back in his locks and pushing the matted wet hair off of his forehead. sukuna leaves a kiss in your hands, before he seems to wander off somewhere else, almost like he's deep in thought.
you grant him the quietness. sukuna loves you even more for it.
--
next part linked here
an: ICK CHAPTER BUT WHATEVER
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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months
Text
Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One
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No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear
3,516 words
Part Two - Part Three
–-
The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.
So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.
So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.
“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”
“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”
“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”
He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.
“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.
“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.
And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.
You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.
“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”
He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.
“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”
It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.
“You think you can handle it?” he asked.
You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.
“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”
Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.
“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.
---
It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.
Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.
“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”
“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”
Vox had stormed over to your desk.
“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.
“T-that’s not it! I just-”
Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.
“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”
“Of course, sir,” you said.
You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.
“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.
You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.
“What was that?” he said
“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.
A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.
“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”
Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.
“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”
“Um… yes?” you said.
“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”
“F/N,” you said.
“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”
You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.
---
Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.
Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.
He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.
It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.
Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.
You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.
“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.
“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.
“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.
“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”
What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.
“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.
You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.
“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”
“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”
That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.
“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”
He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.
“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”
“If you say so,” you said.
As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.
“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.
You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.
---
It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.
And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.
You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.
So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.
“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.
“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.
“I’m sorry… your what?” he said
“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”
He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.
“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”
“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.
As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.
“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”
It was awkwardly silent for a minute.
“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”
“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”
“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.
You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.
“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.
“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”
He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?
“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”
Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.
“I think I should go back to work,” you said.
He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.
This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.
Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.
“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.
You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.
“What the hell is going on?” you asked.
“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”
“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”
“Or?” he asked.
Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.
“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.
He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”
Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.
“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”
“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.
“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.
“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”
You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?
“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”
He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.
It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.
He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.
“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured
He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.
“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.
You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.
Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.
“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”
You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.
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