#very OOC but yeah that’s how he is in my head

[akanothere]

Out of morbidy curiosity, how do you think Danny would be as a dad? Would he ever be?

I think:

He wouldn’t plan to be one coz he would hate to be one. Would be pissed at S/O (actually at himself but he wouldn’t say) if he had a surprise baby lmao. The picture of having a family wasn’t in his mind, he’s too caught up in his nighttime hobby.

Let’s say he liked (or love, if he’s capable of) S/O enough, he would stay around; if S/O wanted nothing to do with him, he would hold S/O and the kid hostage.

Coz he’s NARCISSISTIC, it’s always his pleasure came first, even he liked S/O, he would gaslight them into submission.

But I don’t think he’s gonna be a single dad, coz his work, his schedule and jumping states, it’s (1) hard to manage with a kid tagging along; (2) troublesome to making up more stories and fake IDs etc, kids were noisy, you couldn’t keep secrets with one around you.

So it’s either ducking them both behind, or keeping them with him forever. And what if S/O’s not around anymore? He would probably drop the kid off at orphanage. Remember, he might like (/love) the kid, but it’s always about himself first. If his child was considered a burden to him, he would abandon them. No babysitter at home btw, couldn’t have someone wandering in his house stumbling on his secrets.

If he lived with the kid (&S/O I suppose), definitely still a shitty dad by nature. At least in my HC & considering his canon backstory, he would treat his kid like a pet or a trophy… he could mimic loving the kid, the kid would never know their father was off, the love was off until they grew older& knew more.

He would not neglect them in this case. He would keep everything in this family perfect (especially to neighbours). I even think he’s a monogamous man tbh, coz as a psycho and a clever one, he would weight the pros and cons. He would keep his partner contented well expect in bed you can’t convince me he’s not kinky, keep his kid healthy and happy, the exact opposite of his childhood. I think this is the closest thing to love he can provide to his kid (or family in general) as a narcissistic psychopath.

Soooooo I don’t think he would train his kid into Danny Johnson 2.0. Wouldn’t do what his father did to him. He was way more horrible than Johnson Sr., but smarter. He would make sure his kid going on a successful trail, while himself continuing his business.

A normal 90s American family, happy partner happy kid= less suspicious. He’s the type telling a story, kissing his kid’s forehead, cooed and cuddled them until they were asleep, head out to stalk his next victim. Just like every horrible killer… all nice and normal until they were arrested.

🥶🆘

[scrivellc]

Planning on doing replies tomorrow. Tonight is for thinking about body horror AUs and Orin playing King Charlemagne in Pippin. Fair warning gonna babble about horror thoughts in the tags so uh...don't read those if you don't wanna hear my weird brain machinations.

[yueebby]

happy wife, happy life  — gojo satoru

synopsis. not fawning over his wife may prove to be harder than gojo thought.

contents. fluff, gojo is so whipped for his wife and everyone is tired (whats new), ooc gojo?

notes. this was pure self indulgence. i wanted to slander and coddle gojo all at once and this was it teehee :3

the first thing you hear when you stand up to leave the staff meeting is a wolf whistle.

“looking good,” satoru looks you up and down. you roll your eyes playfully, your husband’s behavior is not foreign to you. he taps your upper thigh, dangerously close to your butt as you take your leave. however, the others in the room don't take kindly to the action.

“highly inappropriate behavior gojo,” utahime mutters under her breath from across the table. beside her, nanami is giving your husband a hard stare. 

satoru pays no mind to them though, smiling up at you as you walk out of the room. you shake your head when he continuously blows a series of kisses. he ignores your rejection, opting to mouth crude comments instead.

the moment the door shuts, the strongest sorcerer immediately deflates, disinterested in whatever matters the rest had to discuss about. 

“i don’t know how she puts up with you,” utahime takes a long sip out of her cup of tea. beside her, shoko snorts.

“probably for his body.” shoko is not unfamiliar with satoru’s antics, having witnessed it since his rowdy school days. she applauds him for coming far with you, but it was still fun to tease him.

gojo crosses his arms, emitting a disgruntled sound. “and my golden personality?”

nanami sighs, “ieiri’s conclusion is most likely right.”

the limitless user wiggles his finger playfully. “nanamin, how scandalous of you to fantasize about my body! i’m a married man y’know~” 

nanami looks like he has eaten something sour. unlike you, nanami’s attitude towards gojo has not softened as the years passed.

“i’m surprised she’s still with you.” utahime snickers. “she’s a sensible woman and you’re–” 

satoru frowns at her statement.  he’d never thought about how you felt about his behavior. perhaps that was his fatal flaw. gojo satoru had a nasty streak of negligence. and the last time he failed to notice someone dear to him —   

“well i’m glad she ended up choosing me, yeah?” his frown is quickly covered up by the wide smirk on his face. he leans back on his chair that’s starting to feel less comfortable by the second. the chair creaks under the weight of his body. honestly, how old are these old wooden things? “as much as i’d like to keep chatting about my lovely wife, i’d like to get this meeting over with so i can see her again.”

the rest of the meeting ensues as usual.

“sensei has been weird… right?” itadori offers his hand after knocking megumi down during a sparring match. the black haired boy grunts as he is pulled up.

“if by weird, you mean normal.” megumi glances back at you and gojo who are watching intently at the first and second years practicing close combat on the training field. it was a bit peculiar to see satoru not throw himself all over you. gojo without pda is like a jigsaw puzzle missing its most essential piece, leaving the overall picture incomplete and lacking the electrifying energy that defines his existence. 

“i feel like i should be happy, but it’s unsettling to see him not initiating some misconduct. do you think they’re fighting?” nobara is panting on the grassy floor. she raises her hand in surrender when maki leaps in to take her head off with a spear.

maki retracts her blade, turning back to observe you and gojo, “nah, gojo would fold at her command.” 

“salmon.”

from across the training field, you turn to your husband nervously, “why are they staring at us?”

satoru hums, his blindfolded gaze focuses on the field in front of you, “hm, maybe they’re admiring their very beautiful [name] sensei.” the blindfolded man pauses. compliments should still be okay– right? satoru can’t imagine a life without lavishing you with love, yet he will content himself with gently sprinkling you with affection. 

you smack his shoulder playfully. to your surprise, your husband doesn’t reciprocate with some form of physical affection. you tilt your head, perplexed. 

quickly dismissing it, you yell at your students to continue their training.

you don’t notice the way satoru clenches his fists, keeping his eyes trained anywhere but you.

the next time satoru is tempted by your presence is when he comes back home after a mission. it was a walk in the park, but the heavy stack of paperwork that followed it had depleted his energy. all he wanted was to snuggle in bed with his wife, selfishly keeping you all to himself.

and you’re not making it easier to resist with the way you warmly greet him with a smile in nothing but a small cotton tee and those tiny pajama shorts. eyes up, eyes up, eyes up, satoru mentally chants.

he thinks he might actually die.

“toru!” you abandon the book you had been reading to pay your husband taxes (kisses that satoru demands he must have). “you’re home awfully late.”

“mission… paperwork,” his clipped response is mumbled as he hurries past you and to your shared bathroom, avoiding your touch. satoru silently prays to the heavens that you don’t notice his suspicious efforts as he makes his way to take a much needed ice cold shower.

you stand in your spot in confusion, letting your husband go. slowly, you start to connect the pieces of satoru’s strange behavior from his refusal to touch you to his sudden responsible disposition. gojo satoru never does paperwork– not unless you bribe him with a dozen kisses. speaking of kisses, you don’t even remember the last time he had demanded one. something was definitely wrong. 

without missing a beat, you quickly follow your lover’s trail into the bathroom.

to your delight, your husband had failed to lock the door. in the hush of your silence, you can hear the subtle rustle of satoru's garments.

his sky blue eyes go wide when he sees you walk through the door.

“toru… is there something wrong?” your voice is careful. 

the white haired man in front of you nervously laughs as he covers his bare chest, “geez, ask me out to dinner first.” 

“gojo satoru.”

your husband winces at his full name being used, but he puts on another mask. a faux smile plays on his lips as he shrugs. “i don’t know what you mean, gojo.” 

your heart drops at his insistence to shut you out, but you stand your ground. with sheer determination, you walk up to your husband, closing the gap between the two of you. you cup his cheek with a hand while you start to lean closer, your lips nearly brushing.

satoru shuts his eyes, inhaling a deep breath to regain composure. he even sucks in his lips, making him look utterly ridiculous. despite the dangerous allure of your proximity, he resolves to stand firm.

"you won’t even kiss me anymore! satoru, this is absurd. what's happening?" you distance yourself, seeking answers.

despite his towering stature, a snort escapes you as satoru resembles a mere child when mumbling something under his breath.

"come on, use your big boy words."

"i don't want to drive you away," he avoids making eye contact now that his blindfold is off. "i know i can be a bit overwhelming at times."

upon hearing his excuse, you snort loudly, “seriously?”

“seriously.”

“i can’t believe i married such an idiot.” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck.

satoru pouts, “you’re breaking my heart wifey.”

your lips softly kiss the corner of his mouth. like it was muscle memory, satoru’s lips chase yours even after you pull away. you smile.

“for such a genius, you really are stupid ‘toru.” you flick his forehead. he whines and you know it didn’t hurt, yet you entertain him by leaning up to kiss his injury. “believe it or not, i married you for reasons beyond your pretty face and body.”

“you think i’m pretty?” his eyes shine bright as they lovingly gaze into yours. you take one hand to cup his cheek. he nuzzles his face into it.

“of course you’d say that.” you laugh softly. “but honestly, i’m offended that you thought i would ever be annoyed by your affections. might i remind you that we have been madly in love since our youth? i found myself captivated by your ability to love effortlessly, and the way you hopelessly pined for me for years? i knew i was a goner. that… and your bank accoun–”

satoru kisses you with an intensity that leaves you feeling blissfully lightheaded. lost in the haze of the moment, he showers the rest of your face with tender, wet kisses, and you stand there, surrendering to the sweet assault.

upon withdrawing, satoru wears a broad grin. "i was an idiot today, wasn't i?" you nod, breathless. "how about i make it up to you tonight?" he proposes, drawing you close. you are all too familiar with that feral grin adorning his face.

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS

꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)

⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.

sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

⪩　 　  ₊　    🍪 　 　✧ 　 　⁺

“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”

“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.

“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.

“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”

“is your name toji fushiguro?”

“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”

the woman simply stares at him.

“..alright then…”

the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”

“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”

TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH

YOUR CAREER

“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”

toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”

“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”

“hm.”

the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”

toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”

“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.

toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.

“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”

“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”

he looks at the examiner.

“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.

“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”

“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”

toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”

the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”

“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.

toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”

“would you consider yourself fit?”

“yep. ‘hundred percent.”

“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”

“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”

he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.

“he is being truthful..again.”

toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”

POP CULTURE

“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.

toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”

“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.

toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”

“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”

“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”

the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”

“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”

LOVE LIFE

toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.

“do you want to get married in the future?”

“yeah, yeah i do.”

the examiner nods.

“have you ever been in love?”

“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.

the examiner nods again.

“are you in love right now?”

toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”

the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”

“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.

“is there someone you’re in love with?”

“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”

“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.

toji sighs. “oh, brother…”

“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”

“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.

“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”

“christ…”

the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”

toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”

“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.

“are you in love with any of these people?”

toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”

“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”

“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”

“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”

toji grumbles.

౨ৎ

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000

a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥

[awearywritersworld]

my very soul demands you

sukuna x reader summary: you introduce sukuna to cuddling and romance novels. meanwhile, he's still struggling to make sense of his feelings for you, despite wanting to commit murder because another man had the nerve to touch your arm (which earns him a lecture from yuuji). w/c: 2.5k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. jealous!sukuna. aged up!yuuji. features yuuji x reader. cursing. banter. hopefully not too ooc for sukuna. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it'd flow much better with the context of the previous two parts. lots of denial and begrudging softness from sukuna here. definitely more fluff than anything tho. this series has been fun to write, so thanks for reading<3 i appreciate reblogs or feedback! let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any additional parts. series masterlist // masterlist

when you crawl in between sukuna's legs and curl up against his chest, it's a foreign experience that makes his body stiffen.

he'd been with countless women during his lifetime, but while fucking is one thing, he never once found himself in a position that struck him as this... intimate.

"hold me," you whine as if you can sense his unfamiliarity with such matters.

he rolls his eyes, beginning to wonder if your habit of throwing orders at him is actually some sort of compulsive need. "didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"

despite his irritation, he acquiesces to your demand and once he envelops you in his arms, some of his rigidness dissipates.

you hum contentedly. "isn't that better?"

"it's tolerable," he asserts, his chest vibrating against your cheek.

"whatever you say." tangling your legs with his, you turn your attention back to the movie you've both been watching.

he doesn't understand this... tedious display of affection, nor does he particularly enjoy it... right?

and he only allows it because he can't rid his mind of the image of your tear stained face... right?

yeah, that has to be it. he figures he can endure this, given that he was the reason you were so upset earlier.

it goes without saying that he doesn't realize it when he begins to rub absentminded circles on your back.

and the way the warmth of your body forces his usually tense muscles to relax goes unacknowledged.

when the credits begin to roll, sukuna's wearing an expression of unimpressed disinterest. "that's seriously how it ends?"

you don't respond, so he looks down only to find that you're fast asleep.

"tch. you ask to watch a movie, force me to pick it, and then you don't even have the decency to stay awake." he's not sure why he's chiding you even though he knows you can't hear him, but he keeps his voice low enough that it won't disturb you.

sukuna's spent more time than he cares to admit watching your sleeping form, but this is the first time that it's actually him you're pressed against. it's the first time he can reach out and touch you.

your hair has fallen across your face, so he pushes it back behind your ear gently. the pads of his fingers brush against your cheekbone, a ghost of a caress, and his gaze lingers on your parted lips.

he lets out a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from you. "impertinent brat."

reaching for the remote, he flips off the tv and casts the room in darkness.

upon waking up in the morning, yuuji's confused once he notices that he's on the couch and you're sleeping against his chest.

he may have been half asleep when he arrived home, but he's still positive he went to bed. stretching his arms above his head, the movement jostles you from your slumber.

"mornin', baby."

"good morning, yu," you yawn in response, shifting to sit up.

"how'd i wind up on the couch?" he asks, though he's already got an inkling of the answer.

"oh," you blush. "sukuna kind of made an appearance last night."

"that so? how'd it go?"

you think there might be a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. is he teasing you?

"good," you offer. "we watched a movie."

"watched a movie with the king of curses," he muses before his face breaks out into a lopsided grin. "you sure are somethin', baby."

returning his smile, you lean in and press your lips to his. "hm. says you."

it's not uncommon for you to meet yuuji for lunch if his mission is short and nearby, and today is one of those days, so he eagerly makes his way to the cafe you agreed on.

he's still a few hundred feet away when he spots you through the window, chatting with a man he recognizes as your childhood friend.

his gaze drops to where his hand is wrapped around your forearm as you both share a laugh together.

it doesn't really bother yuuji, he trusts you implicitly and jealousy isn't an emotion that's really on his radar. the same can't be said for everyone, though.

sukuna watches on as well, his thoughts much darker than his vessel's. who does that wretch think he is, putting his hands on you?

you're not his to touch.

"give me control," sukuna growls, his mouth appearing on yuuji's cheek.

"and why would i do that?"

"so i can rip his heart out and gift it to her since he seems so interested in offering his affections."

"duuuude," yuuji begins, somewhat amused. "i don't think she'd be super crazy about you murdering her friend."

"fine," sukuna bites back, well aware that yuuji has a point. "but he can live without his filthy hands, can't he? perhaps i'll pull each arm from his torso—"

yuuji snorts. "you have some serious issues, man."

he can feel sukuna trying to take over and easily curbs the attempt, though that only fuels the king of curses' irritation. "my only issue lies in the fact you're allowing this to happen."

yuuji reaches the door, a bell chiming through the cafe as he pulls it open. "she's a big girl. she doesn't need either of us to dictate what can and can't happen to her."

once you see your boyfriend, your face lights up and you call out his name. you place a kiss on his cheek and snake an arm around his waist in greeting, and the space it puts between you and your friend is enough to keep sukuna from protesting further.

"you two have met, right?" you ask.

"yeah! hey, itadori! it's been a while."

"it has! good to see you, yamada."

"i'd love to stay and chat more, but i have to get going," he states, leaning in to give you a hug which you return. "we should all go out together soon!"

"absolutely not, you deplorable knave��" yuuji slaps a hand to his cheek before sukuna can continue and yamada gives him an odd look.

your eyes widen for a split second and you have to stop yourself from facepalming.

"what'd you say?" yamada asks, sounding a bit hesitant.

"i said absolutely, sounds like an enjoyable night!"

the men exchange a handshake before you and yuuji make your way to a table.

"sukuna, what the hell was that?" you hiss once yamada's out of earshot.

"i don't know what you mean," he responds smugly.

you meet yuuji's eye and he just shrugs his shoulders, but you swear the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

you can't imagine anything good coming from the two of them colluding with one another, but let it go anyway.

opening up your menu, you sigh in defeat. "if you say so."

"what do you mean you'd rather disembowel yourself?" you question the man sitting across from you.

it's becoming more commonplace to see those dark marks adorning yuuji's body during the nighttime hours. you sometimes wonder if he's letting it happen or if sukuna's just getting better at taking over, but you're too nervous to ask.

"do you need a dictionary? there's one over on the shelf—"

"no, asshole. i know what disembowel means! i just don't understand your refusal."

he raises his eyebrows at the obscenity, but doesn't comment on it. "i'm not reading some inane romance novel."

"but brontë's one of my favorite authors!"

"it makes no difference if it was penned by the gods. the thought alone is absurd. can we move on now?"

you don't respond. instead, you cross your arms and stare at the wall defiantly. your face is contorted into an expression that lets sukuna know you're clearly affronted.

"very mature, you silly little girl."

"sorry you find me and my interests so childish," you huff.

"oh, please. that's not what i said."

you continue giving him the cold shoulder, having no desire to argue further, but more than willing to die on this hill.

"fine, don't talk. it's no matter to me," he claims (despite it being the furthest thing from the truth).

as the minutes tick by, he keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye and exhaling dramatically.

eventually, he calls your name in an exasperated tone, and while it makes your heart flutter, you still don't spare him a glance. you just hold the book out for him and to your surprise, he rips it from your grasp.

"you're ridiculous," he grumbles, opening the cover to reveal the first page. "i hate you."

when he glances over to see you're beaming at him despite the insult, he adds (albeit half heartedly), "i mean it, brat."

the two of you sit in silence, each of you reading your respective books. a few chapters in, sukuna comes across the following conversation:

"do you know where the wicked go after death?" "they go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer. "and what is hell? can you tell me that?" "a pit full of fire." "and should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?" "no, sir." "what must you do to avoid it?" i deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: "i must keep in good health, and not die."

to your astonishment, you actually hear him chuckle, but when he looks over and finds your self satisfied smirk, any hint of humor disappears from his face in the blink of an eye. your hand quickly moves to your mouth to stifle a giggle.

"something you want to say?" he baits you.

"nope, nothing at all!"

two nights later, he's already nearing the end of the story and you refrain from commenting about how quickly he's made his way through.

you doubt he'd allow your current position if you had— you're laying on your side, your head resting comfortably in his lap, one hand occupying the space above his knee.

when you asked if it was okay, all he offered you was a clipped, "i suppose."

your hair is splayed across his thigh and your eyes fluttered shut a while ago. when he agreed to this, he didn't realize how distracting it'd be. his gaze flickers between you and the words on the page with embarrassing frequency.

he's decided what you call cuddling is absolutely suffocating. how anyone could actually enjoy it, he's sure he'll never comprehend. he can hardly concentrate on the novel that's right in front of him—

"read to me, 'kuna," you mumble, interrupting his thoughts. it surprises him that you're still awake.

he scoffs. "what do i look like? your personal audiobook?"

"you didn't even know those existed until like a week ago," you laugh. "c'mon, pleaaaaaase."

he stays quiet for a few moments, so you're under the impression he may just ignore your request. as such, you're exceptionally pleased when his voice fills the otherwise still apartment.

you think the sound of his voice is comforting, an idea that would more than likely make him cringe, so you keep it to yourself. after all, you don't want him to stop.

at some point or another, he begins twirling a strand of your hair around his finger whenever he's not turning the page, an action that seems to take place without his noticing.

occasionally he'll pause to ask if you're even listening. it's an odd feeling that blossoms in his stomach when you assure, "mhmm. every word."

as he reaches the second to last chapter, he reads a line that makes you question whether your heart's stopped beating. you're not sure if it's because of the tone of his voice, the words he's imparting, or some mix thereof.

"no—no—jane; you must not go. no—i have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence—the sweetness of your consolation: i cannot give up these joys. i have little left in myself—I must have you. the world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify."

he stops reading, as if he too feels the sense of unease that's invaded the air. against your better judgement, you turn to look at him. his eyes are glued to the page, almost like they're avoiding you, and his jaw is tense.

"my very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”

when his gaze finally lands on you, his expression is almost pained. it's a strange contrast to the warm fondness you spot in his eyes.

you quickly push that thought away, however. whatever you believe you may have seen, you're probably just deluding yourself. you know you aren't his least favorite person, but surely he'd never feel even half of that sentiment toward you—

your breath catches in your throat when his hand reaches up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. he still marvels at the fact you don't shy away from his touch, that you're usually the one to seek out contact with him.

perhaps the story is not as asinine as he expected it to be. rochester presumes jane will find him revolting, yet she still agrees to be with him, even after his selfishness has been made plain to her. after the sins of his past have caught up to him.

no, no, no.

to be so desperate for some woman's approval, or her devotion for that matter, is despicable. rochester's nothing less than foolish and sukuna isn't anything like him.

but you're certainly like jane, aren't you? fearless, passionate, and determined: all things he can't help but find endearing...

gods, what is this turmoil? it's making him feel pathetic and there isn't an emotion in the world he hates more—

you distract him from his internal monologue when your fingers wrap around his wrist and bring his knuckles to your lips. "you okay?"

"of course," he mutters, pulling his hand away. "just trying to get past all the mawkishness."

"really? you think it's that bad?" you question, the frown on your lips igniting that ache in his chest that appears whenever you're upset.

"it's not terrible," he sighs, realizing there may indeed be one thing he despises even more than feeling pathetic. "although i don't understand how jane is so taken with rochester."

you seem to ponder this for a moment before shrugging. "love is weird."

"what a clever analysis."

you slap his chest playfully. "oh, whatever. just keep going, you're almost finished!"

and you're right. he does reach the end of jane eyre that night, but not before you fall asleep on his lap. he closes the book, running a finger down the creased spine and setting it down carefully. it's obvious you've read it several times.

admittedly, he can see why, but he'd be caught dead before he'd ever tell you as much.

left alone with his thoughts, he considers the impossibility of jane and rochester: a charming, headstrong woman and a cruel, arrogant man.

leaning forward, he whispers your name to make certain you're asleep, then places a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"..sweet dreams."

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— fuck his brains out

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

In which you pretend not to know your boyfriend is Kick-Ass. maybe OOC characters, I got a little carried away, and maybe mixed timeline, I haven't watched the movies in a while... Also, Dave x Mean! reader because who doesn't love that?

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

“I think Kick-Ass is hotter,” you look over at Dave, licking your ice cream almost teasingly. “If I had the chance, I’d fuck his brains out.”

Dave blushed madly, rubbing his cheeks before you stand and tug on his arm. “Dave, I think we should start heading out. You’re walking me home, right?”

Dave nodded quickly, as you thought that it was best because you had been taking care of him since his injury or said that because it had been a while. “Y-Yeah! I will, I’m coming.”

He waved at his friends as you tugged him out, throwing away the napkin that previously held your ice cream cone away. “I mean it,” you said abruptly, smiling over as you held his hand. “I would fuck him so hard he wouldn’t be able to talk.”

“W-Would you?” Dave finally speaks, looking over at you as you smiled.

“Hell yeah I would.”

Later that night, Mindy stared at him as he fixed his mask. “This isn’t a good idea, Dave."

In all seriousness, he really thought she would fight him to make him stay. What he was doing was stupid, but he was about to get laid. By you. The most beautiful girl in the world.

"This," he grinned back at her. "Is an amazing idea. I'm going to get laid so fucking hard."

"What if she wants to take off your mask?"

"She won't."

"What if she recognizes your voice?"

He paused, then smiled. "When I'm nervous, my voice gets higher. She won't recognize it. I'll see you later!"

He ran out, quickly going to your home. How was he going to get in? Would he sneak in through the window you always had unlocked that was right next to your dresser? Or would he throw rocks at your window, begging for you to let him up so you could fuck him?

He started to panic, how the hell would he sneak into your house?

In nervousness, he paced in the back alleyway behind your house before his phone buzzed, your name blaring on the screen.

Y/N 8:57PM come in through the window ;)

It made him pause before he looked at your window, gasping as you stared at him with your body lit in light of your bedside lamp. He could see your bright smile as you gave him a small wave, a gulp echoing through the alley as you opened up the window a bit and leave it open with a hairbrush.

He inhaled deeply as he slowly jumped over the fence, climbing up the tree that led up to the window, easily slipping through after pushing it up before carefully pushing it down. He gasped as he looked back, staring at his reflection through the mirror from where you sat in front of your vanity.

"It's slightly... perverted to sneak into a woman's house, right?" Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into your face like he had seen you do in the nights he slept over. "Dave knows that, but I'm assuming Kick-Ass doesn't."

Dave cleared his throat, pushing his hands to cover the front of his suit, specifically over his crotch. He loved it when you said his name. "I-I uhm... you know Dave as well? I know Dave too."

He watched as you giggled. "I do know Dave, very well. But something's telling me you know him a little better than I do."

He swallowed, humming before making his voice deeper. “I-I’ve known Dave a long time… Y/N.”

“Have you now?” You stood, slowly walking over and swaying your beautiful hips before you stood in front of him. “How long?”

“M-My whole life.”

You giggled as he slowly stepped forward to meet you in the middle, your fingers trailing down his chest as you pressed firm kisses wherever your fingers went and you slowly got down on your knees, your skimpy lingerie-like pajamas. "Did Dave ever tell you what I want to do to you, Kick-Ass? Hm?"

He whimpers, his false persona of confidence never even giving the chance to rise as you kissed over the bulge that he tried to hide. "H-He did... oh fuck, he did."

"Oh, well he didn't have to tell you, right? You knew it because you are Dave, right?" You licked over the material of his suit.

His head lulled back as he nodded, groaning. "R-Right, fucking hell, please! Please, please don't stop."

You scoffed as you stood, pressing your finger to his chest. "I knew it! I knew it, you bastard, why would you keep that from me?! Did you like me gushing over your alter ego?!"

He gasped as you shoved him, a groan falling from your lips. "What? No! No, of course not!"

"For fuck's sake, Dave! What, you're such a virgin that you loved the thought of some girl talking about her fantasies with your alter ego?! Fuck you!" You groaned as you sat on your bed, covering your face to hold back your smile. This had to work.

"No! No, of course not, of course not! I'm sorry, I am so sorry," he whined as he kneeled in front of you, holding your knees. "Please, you have to understand..." He takes off his mask, whimpering as he stared up at you. "I did it to keep you safe. I didn't... I don't want you to be a target."

You inhale deeply as you pulled your hands away from your face, glaring down at him. "You promise?"

"I promise."

He inhaled deeply as you squeezed his face, raising a brow. "Well then, what are you going to do to make it up to me?"

He paused, clearing his throat as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Wh-Whatever you want me to," he whispers, swallowing loudly. "Whatever you want me to do."

Oh, you knew it would work.

Maybe that's how Dave got here, laying on his back as he sobbed underneath your touch, the vibrating cock ring settled right at his base and your tongue licking at his tip, lapping and sucking teasingly. You giggled as he squirmed underneath your touch, your hand pumping him slowly. "I don't know if you've done enough to cum, Dave. I don't think... you've made it up to me."

He whined, shaking his head as he covered his mouth. "No, no please! I'll do anything you want, just please! I need- I need to cum inside of you."

You hummed teasingly, pursing your lips. "Inside of me? You want to ask that much of me? Do you think that you've done enough to get the pleasure of cumming inside of me?"

"Yes!" He whined loudly, groaning. "Yes! Yes, I'll make you feel good, I promise!"

You hummed, pumping him even harder. "No... I don't think you can. A virgin like you? Please."

"I promise! I promise I will, I promise." He whimpered, his hips bucking into the air.

He probably could, to be honest. His cock was bigger than you could ever imagine, his girth barely able to fit into your mouth without making your jaw ache and could barely go down your throat without choking. He had the prettiest dick you'd ever seen, definitely the biggest and girthiest too, just because the last few guys you saw were fucking assholes.

"Maybe I will let you cum inside of me," you mused, humming as you sucked on his tip to make loud popping sound echo across the room. "Maybe, if I'm feeling... nice."

He whined, nodding desperately. "Fuck, please! Please, I'll do anything!"

"Where do you want to cum inside of me, baby? Dave knows I'm on birth control, but does Kick-Ass?" You giggle, rubbing his thighs as you gagged on his cock.

"C-Can I cum i-in your... in your-?"

"You can't even say it, can you?" You giggled as you switched the ring into the highest power, humming. "You want to cum... inside of me, right? That narrows things down a little bit... you want to cum inside my mouth? Or... my ass, that's going to take a minute though. Maybe my pussy? Hm? It's already stretched out for you, Dave. Inside my pussy, inside of my cunt?"

"Y-Your cunt! I want... I want to cum inside of your cunt."

You giggled. "Just don't cum as soon as I take this ring off, alright?"

He let out a loud whimper, nodding as you slowly slip it off, putting it into your mouth to suck loudly, groaning as his taste filled your mouth. He groaned as you take it from your mouth, straddling his hips and holding his cock up. You could feel your eyes roll back, humming as he whimpered. "I-I'm close, I'm so close!"

You giggled as you sunk down onto him, yelling out as he screamed out, groaning with a strong buck of his hips to bottom out inside of you and his cum filling up your stomach. You gasped loudly, whimpering as you held onto his chest, your nails digging into his skin. "H-How are you still cumming?!"

"I-I can't stop," he groaned flipping you over to hold your thighs as he pressed his face into your neck, thrusting his hips. Your eyes rolled back, groaning loudly as the loud slaps of skin against skin filled your room. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Better than I could ever imagine, fuck!"

You whined as your nails dug into his back, Dave pulling away for just a second with a grin. "Who's fucking who's brains out now?"

taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[dizscreams]

can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where hobie swings to his friends apartment and knocks on her window and the reader has to patch him up and hobie is just kinda quiet because he hates people caring for him (he doesn’t want to be seen as a burden) but reader assures him its fine and maybe hobie confesses to her? <4

COUNT ON YOU

— Hobie Brown ★

PAIRING: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

A/N: DISCLAIMER I’ve never read a single Spider-Man comic in my life, this is PURELY based off of what I saw in the movie. THIS IS VERY VERRRYYY OOC BUT enjoy! :)

You were finishing up on homework, even though it was 2 in the morning. It wasn’t uncommon for you to stay up late to finish your assignments. It also wasn’t uncommon for your best friend Hobie to knock on your window injured.

You took off your headphones and looked to see where the knocking came from. You saw the familiar Spider-Man mask with spikes staring back at you through the glass. He was holding his side and his mask was a little beat up. You quickly got up and opened the window for him. “Hobie? Are you alright?”

He climbed inside your room and ripped off his mask, throwing it somewhere on the ground. “Yeah, just peachy,” he said, his voice was low and very clearly sarcastic. You frowned and gently grabbed his hand, “C’mon lets get you patched up.” He stepped back and took his hand away from your grasp shaking his head. “No, it’s alright.”

“Hobie, you’re bleeding. Lets go,” you told him firmly. Before he could respond you grabbed his hand and started walking to the bathroom. You flicked on the light and pointed to the toilet seat, “Sit.” He groaned but didn’t argue against it, he knew better than to argue with you this late. He could see the bags under your eyes as he observed you grabbing the first aid kit.

He sat down and you walked toward him, placing all your supplies on the bathroom counter before looking over at him. His face was cut and he had a wound on his side. You grabbed a rag, you ran water over it before kneeling in front of him. “You’re lucky it isn’t that bad, I’ve definitely had to help you with worse,” you chuckled looking up at him.

He only nodded in reply which you thought was weird but didn’t question. You focused back on cleaning the wound, luckily it wasn’t deep, but you could feel his burning gaze on you. You knew he didn’t like getting cared for like this but he was your best friend, it was basically your job to help him. “You know I want to help you right?” You asked softly, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him seeing a look of confusion on his face. You explained further, “I mean you don’t have to feel bad about me helping you all the time. Your job is dangerous and I’ll always be here help you out.” You offered him a small smile and he snickered, “You’re corny.” You playfully hit his knee and the both of you fell into a comfortable silence with small smiles on both of your faces.

You took a dry towel and dabbed at his side. Once you cleaned it you put on a bandaid. You stood up and smiled proudly, “There!” He nodded and stood up, about to walk out until you stopped him. “Wait-” you grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down on the toilet seat. “You still have a cut on your face.”

“Just a small one, it don’t matter.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll treat it anyway.”

He glared at you but nodded, deciding that you might as well since you already cleaned his other one. He hated getting help and he hated people telling him what to do but he couldn’t help but let you. He wasn’t proud of it, honestly he was slightly embarrassed. But as long as he never admitted it out loud, he would be okay.

Except for the fact that he wanted to tell you how he felt.

He wanted to tell you he’s attracted to you and that he’s thought of being more than friends with you but he didn’t know how you felt about him. And it wasn’t like him to talk about his feelings, even to you. You began running the wet rag across his cheekbone gently. You made sure to wipe the blood off and clean the cut.

You noticed Hobie gulp and you looked at him, now noticing your close proximity. You smiled softly to yourself and continued your work on the cut. You grabbed a bandaid and put it on his cheek. Hobie slightly shivered at the contact but got up as soon as you were done. “Alright, cya later.” He walked out of the bathroom and went into your bedroom quickly.

“Woah woah woah, wait a minute,” you called out for him. He stopped in front of the window and turned around to look at you. “You’re just gonna leave? Not even a thank you?” You asked. He pointed at you, “Thank you, now goodnight!” He turned around to the window again but you pulled his arm and pulled him back to face you. “What’s gotten into you? You’re acting weird.”

“Not that weird.”

“Pretty weird.”

He tossed his head back and huffed out a breath. You raised your eyebrows waiting for him to give you a clear answer. He slowly lifted his head back up to look at you. He stepped a fraction closer to you, now close enough to able to feel your body heat. He examined your features for a moment before shaking his head.

“Nothing. Night.” He swiftly grabbed his mask off the floor and opened the window. “Bye Hobie,” you said quietly. He looked back at you and then forward again. He put on his mask and in a flash he was gone. You flopped on your bed and covered your face with your hands.

You stayed like that for a moment thinking about the interaction you just had. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and pulled the covers over you, ready to sleep. What you weren’t aware of was Hobie peaking his head to look into your window. It was too late to tell you about his feelings now, so he’d tell you another time! Probably in a year or two.

[workingbynyx]

Hi! I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing headcanons of Jason Todd as the reader's boyfriend? Probably like the general dynamic of the relationship, love language, etc. Whatever you think goes best! :)

of course! i can finally use my hcs of boyfie jason to good use oml i have so much in store for you loves 😚

(this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and now that its almost v-day i think its pretty fitting to post this <3 also pls remember that these are my personal hcs so some may be entirely ooc but this is how i imagine him to be okay 😭)

Very affectionate behind closed doors

Jason wasn't a very clingy person to begin with. in fact the first time you held hands you swore you saw drops of sweat drip down the side of his face, it's hilarious. it took him a while to get around giving physical affection but once he did, hugs and kisses are non-stop. he'll either give you quick or aggressive but gentle kisses or would simply ask you to climb onto him on your shared bed and lay your head on his chest as he sleeps. he'd search for your hand and give it a squeeze when the both of you are in a big crowd (ex; galas, parties) or just rest his hand on the small of your back— as intimidating he might seem, he's just a big baby in your hands.

A pretty decent cook, to say the least

Could be an unpopular opinion but i'd say Jason isn't all too bad in the kitchen, he can pretty much fix up a simple meal if he wants to. The man could either fuck up the microwave or invent a whole new recipe just to fit your cravings, there's no in between. He doesn't want to admit it but he has a secret folder in his phone of all the recipes to your favourite dishes from lunch meals to deserts; so now on every occassion, you can expect waking up to the fresh scent of your favourite food set on the table <3

Midnight joyrides are the best

Do y'all know those tiktok accs that own a motorbike and just drive around with their partners sitting behind them? That's exactly how i imagine what it would be like to be Jason's partner 👊👊 literally like; "bubs put on your helmet" "are we going out? at this time?" "what, you don't want to?" "well, yeah i do..." "good, i'll have the bike out front then" then you guys just drive around on his bigass bike zooming through the city. He'd also have his hands run down your leg that's straddling him from behind at every stoplight possible wkehwjhejwhd

Getting out of bed is almost impossible

The first time you two moved in together was really exciting, waking up finding yourself beside the love of your life sleeping peacefully to eating breakfast and dinner with them too. But as time went by, it became almost your mission everyday to get out of bed without being held back by Jason pulling you back under the sheets. You'd have to be sneaky to move his arm that's wrapped around your waist before his reflexes react soon enough; "mmh, going somewhere?" "jay, i gotta get to work" "10 more minutes love, i promise. I'll just drive you there it's much faster" "you said that 5 minutes ago— i'll be late again!" "are you saying you'd rather leave me alone?" "jace i–" "mhm exactly, so stay a'ight? you could just tell them you caught that flu" "i already did...two days ago..."

Absolutely adores your eyes, hands and waist

I'm a firm believer that Jason is a certified waist-grabber !!! you can expect the rough tips of his gloves glide over from your back all the way to your waist once he comes home from work. He also looooves looking into your eyes and see his reflection in them, the same eyes that showed nothing but pure love and kindness to him. And he also likes your hands; the size difference when you compare them, how they wrapped around his own, and how they cling onto him every chance you get. He thinks it's such a cute mannerism (if you have them too)

He asks for fashion advice, sometimes

Jason'll probably throw on a shirt, jacket, pants and boots then call it day before he met you— but he's even conscious of how colors looked on him now. You were his stylist, often picking out clothes and giving him new looks that you think looks best on him just because he once saw a photo of him and thought the shirt and pants he had didn't match at all. Jason always thought clothes only consists of hoodies, sweatpants, shirts, but now even knows what 'preppy' clothing is after you explained it to him.

His love language is words of affirmation and physical touch

This may vary to some people but i do hc Jason's love language to be words of affirmation and physical touch. Words of affirmation; only because he absolutely loves it when he tells you what he genuinely thinks of you at the moment. "You look great in red", "i'm proud of what you did there", "i love you, y'know that right?", "you look so gorgeous, i'm lucky to have you" and physical touch; because he's totally convinced he can't live without you by his side. Jason would want to be next or near you at any given chance, he'll have you scooted beside him while he reads a book or gently rub his hand against your thigh when he's focused on a movie. Your presence alone gives him the comfort he's always longing for in nights that he's away from home, and you'd glady give it to him.

Very protective over you

It's probably a known fact that Jason is a protective person but when it comes to you he can be over the top in making sure you're okay (especially when you're also a vigilante/hero working with him.) You'll always have to assure him that you're fine and not bleeding to death with a papercut or when you accidentlly stub your toe against the bed. But when you're also a crime-fighter like him, best believe he'll always have you stay and guarded behind him. You had to explain so many times that you could also take care of yourself like he can, though it's understandable why he acts that way most of the time.

Acts all tough, but melts when you're around

Around the times when Jason still had a lil crush on you, he'd never let his guard down and likes to appear cold or tough. But once you were dating he's an absolute shy babe even with the smallest gestures or compliments you give him. He'd only crack a smile at the side comments you make but is mentally falling apart. Or when he can't keep up the act he simply dips his head in the corner of your neck and stay there til he stops blushing like a teen getting his first kiss.

Is a part of the sassy man apocalypse

Sometimes, you question if this man is simply your bestfriend or your boyfriend of how many years. The amount of bickering the two of you end up having is like watching two friends fight over peanut butter vs chocolate. You'd suggest a book you've been reading that he absolutely despises and have a debate right there and then. It's almost like that one Friends scene when Joey and Rachel were giving spoilers back to back at each other LMAO. The man also has an unhealthy habit of popping a hip whenever he stands, your gallery would probably be filled with pictures of him in that stance alone.

[kaiser1ns]

𝘀𝗮𝗲/𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝘀𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲)

╹synopsis :: your boyfriend gets jealous because of your photoshoot with another footballer player

╹contents :: fluff, a little bit ooc, sae gets jealous of kaiser, kaiser gets jealous of sae, dramatic and sassy boys, 0.5k words for Sae , 0.5k words for Kaiser

╹notes :: just randomly thought of this, hope you liked!

ITOSHI SAE

He doesn't like social media for the sole reason that he can see something that he didn't needed to know about. And now he wants to delete every app he has on his phone and sue the company who thought that you being next to Michael Kaiser was a very good idea. Marketing strategy to put two very famous people who are liked all over the world so they can attract more attention and sales. He knew you had a upcoming photoshoot, but you didn't mention anything else about it and now as Sae scrolls through the Instagram page of the sport sponsor's photos, looking how you put your head on the German's shoulder, the other photo of him that has his wrapped around your waist, then you holding soccer ball all smiles and giggles. It makes him want to vomit and gouge his eyes out.

"I can't believe they paired you with Michael Kaiser," he mutters, his voice tinged with jealousy, narrowing his eyes as his grip around the mobile tightened. You know him better than anyone else including himself and for all of the years you have been together — he gets extremely sassy when jealous. His famous stoic and nonchalant demeanor, rarely revealing his emotions can't fool his girlfriend. You reach out to take the phone from his hands, you persisted, your fingers playfully poking his cheek. "Sae, it's just part of the job" you reassure him, trying to calm his racing thoughts, "Are you perhaps, jealous?" but he only rolled his eyes at this comment of yours, crossing his arms and not looking at you but straight to the TV in front of him.

In response, Sae grumbled, his tone dripping with sass as he attempted to deny his emotions. "I am not," he insisted, though the dramatic flair in his voice betrayed him.

"Yes, you are~" you teased him, knowing that he can't lie to you, and he too does know that.

"No," he protested, though his resolve was weakening under your gaze.

"Oh, you definitely are," you persisted, refusing to let him off the hook so easily.

"Absolutely not," he insisted, though the tension in his voice betrayed his facade.

But you knew him too well to be fooled. "No, you are not" you countered, your tone gentle yet firm.

"Yes, I am," he said without thinking, Touché Y/N. Your boyfriend always uses reverse psychology against you, so safe to say you learned from the best.

"I mean, what's next? You gonna be posing with Leonardo Luna for a perfume ad?" He turned his head and gave you a pointed look, he was so cute you wish you could take a photo of his face right now.

You laughed at his behaviour, for a man who was deemed very serious, sometimes he acted like a child being all pouty and sassy. Running your thumb over his cheekbone soothingly. "Oh, please, as if anyone could replace you," you tease, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "You're the only one who has my heart, Sae. Kaiser's just a prop in this grand show called advertising."

Sae rolls his eyes once again, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he concedes, finally relaxing against your touch. "But I will sue the company."

"Sae, no!"

MICHAEL KAISER

The German prodigy was always interested in the newest fashion trends, believe it or not, as he always spoiled you with the best quality designer clothes, jewellery, shoes, perfumes — you name it, you most definitely have it. He just adores you and wants the best for you, but right now he's wondering what he did wrong to deserve this?

Was he not enough for you, was he not the best boyfriend you ever had, was he just something temporary that you could so easily forget about?

As you walk through the door, you're met with a sight straight out of a soap opera. Your boyfriend, draped dramatically across the couch, staring at the ceiling as if it holds the secrets of the universe.

You raise an eyebrow, "My love, are you okay?"He turns to you, his expression a mix of betrayal and hurt. "Oh, nothing much. Just questioning my existence, like why did my girlfriend decides to do a photoshoot for the cover of a magazine with another guy?"

You blink, trying to process. "Wait, what? You mean the Versace shoot?"

He sits up suddenly, his eyes widened of you casually talking about it "Oh, of course, thanks for admitting your mistake. Because everyone casually poses for Versace with Itoshi Sae, right? It's just your average Tuesday activity."

You can't help but laugh at his overreacting theatrics. "It's not like I'm going to run away with him. Or do you want me to?" He crosses his arms, still pouting. "Hmm, maybe. Since you clearly don't love me anymore."

You playfully roll your eyes, moving to sit beside him, "When they called you to be the model, you were busy with the Euro finals." Kaiser was about to open his mouth to defend himself but he sure was busy when the photoshoot took place. "Besides it's just Sae, nothing to worry about. He couldn't care less about others." He sighs dramatically, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You smirked and wanted to tease him more, knowing how much he disliked a certain someone. "Exactly! Imagine if it were Yoichi instead of Sae. You'd probably start a protest outside the magazine headquarters."

He feigns offense, as he stood up from the coach. "My girlfriend and that sucker on the cover together? I'd have to kill him for real this time."

You grabbed his arm and pulled him to sit on the couch again, hugging him and kissing his temple as you played with the blue hair of the mullet. "Don't be silly now. You know I will never leave you, no matter what." He melted into your embrace, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I know. Just don't go giving me a heart attack with those Isagi jumpscares, okay?" You pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek. "You have my word," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "I promise no more Isagi jumpscares." He chuckled softly, leaning into your touch. "Good, because I don't think my heart can take it." With a playful glint in your eye, you added, "Unless you want me to revive you with a kiss every time."

"I would like to kiss you on different occasions, thank you."

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[saccharineramune]

Human!Alastor x Spouse!Reader

Just to be clear, this is my first time writing Alastor so he might be very OOC💔 also English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical errors during this… happy reading! <3

Content: Smut, Reader is Afab but gender neutral, vaginal sex, biting, Kitchen sex, implied aftercare, Needy Alastor, might be OOC(?)

❗️MDNI❗️

You were home washing the dishes you previously used. Waiting patiently for your husband to finally come home from his work at the radio station.

As you were finishing it up you don’t notice the door unlocking, nor the hands that somehow slithered their way around your waist.

“Ah-!” You let out a gasp, “Alastor! I didn’t even hear you come in..” you say, a bit flustered by his sudden display of affection.

“I’m sorry, Dear.. I hope I didn’t frighten you.” He answers you, rubbing circles on your waist as an apology.

A giggle can be heard from you as blush starts to dust your cheeks from his simple display of physical affection,

“Hehe.. not at all, honey. Just a bit surprised you didn’t call out first or anything. How was work today?”

“Mmh.. it was alright, nothing out of the ordinary.” Alastor plainly responds as he moves one of his hands down the front of your body..

“Well I’m-“ you accidentally cut yourself off with a gasp as you feel his hand slither under your garments and down to your bundle of nerves.

“Alastor..? What are you d-.. doing?” You try to ask him as his fingers rub soft circles on your clothed clit. Your hand start to shake as you hold onto the cleaned plate you previously were washing.

You quickly put the plate down and your hands grip tightly on the counter in-front of you.

You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.. and suddenly you feel him grinding against your ass, His other hand is tightly gripping your hip. He dips a finger inside your wet hole, his thumb rubbing circles on your sensitive bud.

You can’t help but throw your head back against his shoulder as your legs start to tremble..

“A-… Alastor..” you manage to say his name, even though it’s very quiet due to your moans and whimpers suppressing your ability to create coherent words.

Alastor groans as you moan out his name and starts kissing your neck. He graces his teeth against the sensitive flesh before biting down harshly, making you yelp. He traces his tongue on the new bite mark on your neck.

Your legs almost give out on themselves but before you can even hit the floor Alastor’s hands quickly grab you and pull you up, placing you on the kitchen counter.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him as his hands make quick work of your bottoms, pulling them down and throwing them to the side to later clean up.

He sloppily unbuttons his pants just wanting so badly to feel your warm gummy walls around him. With a bit of work he manages to free his member from his pants and underwear before lining himself up with your entrance.

He looks into your eyes.. he looks so needy today.. his hair messy and face flushed.. just the sight of him alone is enough to make your cunt clench around nothing, Eagerly waiting for him to fill you up.

“Is.. this alright, my love?” He asks as he lovingly gazed into your eyes. His eyes filled with desire and admiration.

“Yeah…” you softly respond, pulling him in by the collar of his shirt to plant a heated kiss on his lips. He grabs your sides and slowly but surely pushes himself inside of your hole, Alastor let’s out a moan at the feeling of your gummy walls around his cock.

Your nails dig into the back of his white button up shirt as he starts thrusting into you in a slow pace to get you both used to the feeling.

When your husband starts speeding up his movement, you simply can’t help but grab his chin and kiss him. The feeling of his cock sliding out of your hole before he thrusts it back inside has your toes curling.

“You feel amazing, Mon amour… I’ve missed you so much..” Alastor softly whispers into your ear as his thrusts start getting sloppy, indicating that his climax is close..

You move one of your hands from a the vice grip on your husband’s shirt down to your tiny bud and you rub harsh circles on it, trying to get yourself close to your peak aswell.

A particularly harsh thrust manages to make the building knot in your stomach snap. Your orgasm quickly washing over you and Alastor following you right after, cumming deep inside of you, painting your inner walls white with his seed.

Both of your breathing is heavy as Alastor eventually pulls out after you both bask in the afterglow of your respectable orgasms.

Alastor moves one of his hands and grabs yours. Bringing the back of it up to his lips and kissing the pretty ring sitting on your finger.

“I love you, Alastor..”

“I love you too, Mon ange.. now, let’s get cleaned up..~”

Alastor purrs as he picks you up bridal style and begins to walk to your bathroom.. the dishes beside the kitchen counter now long forgotten.

[azullumi]

“something about you” ; genshin men

summary — it hasn’t been that long since the two of you became a couple, first time in simple things occurs and how does he react? ; you call him ‘love’, accidentally or intentionally, for the first time, and he’s absolutely whipped for you.

includes — various genshin men (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, they’re very very inlove with their s/o, also might be ooc bcs in not sure if the others fit in one of the scenario ; scenarios/multiple in one

note — finally i got to write something 1! also another one coming later i just need tk sleep

“love, can you give me that?

“sure.” he’ll answer without a moment’s hesitation, handing you what you need and it is only then that he’ll process what you have said before he could even focus back on what he was doing earlier.

“wait.” he pauses, turning to you with a confused look on his face. he isn’t entirely sure if what he heard was correct or just his mind playing tricks on him but he hopes that he wasn’t dreaming. you hum, eyebrows raised at him and he opened his mouth, “can you say that again?”

“say what again?”

“like what you said.”

you furrow your eyebrows, baffed, “...can you give me that?” there was a slight intonation in your voice indicating your confusion in this matter. while he was out here in front of you with a mind completely jumbled and thoughts roaring in the lack of certainty, you were there standing in front of him with a perplexed expression on your features as you couldn’t understand him.

“no, i mean– before that.”

“before what? you’re confusing me.”

“you know what i’m talking about.”

“no, i don’t!” you immediately object. you don’t know what in the world is he trying to say. you’re just trying to finish some of your tasks and he’s trying to make you repeat what you said which you already did. “i genuinely don’t know what else do you want me to say. it’s not like i said something that–” your words from earlier played quickly inside your head, the first one, to be exact.

“oh.” you falter, “oh.”

he notices the realization trickling through your tone and expression, “yeah… so do you know now?”

“i just did that, didn’t i?” he nodded and you sighed. “and what’s the big deal?”

“it’s a big deal! that was the first time.”

“seriously, love?”

“you did it again!” his eyes sparkled, ears perked up as a smile beaming with joy was plastered on his face. excitement was evident on each and every corner of his being.

“oh, dear…”

“was that meant to be me or…” and you only made a small gesture at him for him to shut his mouth in which he did. although, you couldn’t contain the small curve that tugs on your lips.

“but will you call me that again?”

“no,” and he groans despite recognizing the deceitful timbre in your words.

childe, itto, kaveh, heizhou, kaeya

“okay.” 

it was just a single word, a four-letter one but you couldn’t ignore how his tone sounded rather… cheery and though in normal occasions, you wouldn’t mind nor even notice but right now, there was some hint of an unfamiliar feeling on it. it’s like he’s plotting something. then he spoke up once again as he brings you what you were asking for, “here it is, love,” adding an emphasis to the endearment that he just called you.

“thank you?” you failed to hide the bewilderment in your expression as well as your voice but he only smiled at you and replied with the same tone as the look on his face, “you’re welcome, love.” 

a brief silence ensued between you two as you nailed your gaze at him, trying to decipher his guise and take a loot at the inside of his mind and he seems to find amusement in your attempt; he doesn’t break his demeanor which infuriates you more.

you grumble and he chuckled, “what’s wrong, my love?”

“you.”

he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head for a bit. “why? what did i do wrong, my dear?”

but realization creeps up to you, albeit in a slow manner as if you were still taking it in and accepting it; it was similar to a snail climbing up your leg, uncomfortable and hateful. “did i just call you…” and he nods with the same smile that he has since earlier, an affirmation to your suspicion.

“i really did?”

“yes, you did, love.” and though it’s just one word, a single-syllable one word, with the way he uses it, it feels like a frying pan being repeatedly hit on your head. oh, so that’s why you were feeling off about his air earlier.

“why? is there a problem, love?”

“stop that.” you already feel embarrassed enough and yet he’s here prodding into it and making it worse by teasing you. he laughs, short and soft, then replies sweetly, “there’s no need to be shy now, is there?” he approaches you, hands swiftly wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him, closing in the distance between you two. you couldn’t speak, not like he was giving you a chance to do so.

“it sounds so pretty coming from your mouth.” so you should call him like that more often.

childe, ayato, kaeya, pantalone, wanderer

he stiffened up, processing what you said and you didn’t fail to notice it especially when you had your hand out and empty for almost half a minute–there was no sign of movement from him either–, expecting for him to place the thing that you’ve been asking for on top of your palm. you turned your head towards him, calling out to his name and snapping him out of it. 

“the book, please?”

“oh, right.” he laughs rather awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck before proceeding on doing what you had asked him. finally, he places the book in your hand but he still seems to be in a trance, eyes distracted, and you couldn’t help but to worry.

“are you alright?” concern drips from your voice and he hummed, eyebrows raised as he feigned a look on his face that says he’s fine. “oh, yeah. i am, i totally am. i’m just a little bit distracted.”

but you know him all too well that he wasn’t telling you the truth. you didn’t respond, gaze trained at his face in silence, seeking for a falter in his fake expression and he breaks; he doesn’t like how well you can read him as if he’s an open book–not like he hates it, however. sighing, he spoke up once again, “you just called me ‘love’ for the first time,” and it’s probably an accident, those words died out on his throat.

“i did, yeah but it wasn’t an accident.”

astonishment fills his face, “oh?”

you hum, nodding your head before you speak in a soft voice. “does it…” your voice trails out and you fidget with your fingers, “...bother you?”

“no, no, it doesn’t.” he’s quick to protest, shaking his head in a panic as if he’s afraid that he might have accidentally hurt your feelings. “it doesn’t bother me, it will not. i actually love it.”

“really?”

“really.” he spoke firmly but gently and he placed his hand on top of yours, fingers snaking through yours and perfectly fitting with your own as if it were two puzzle pieces. he whispers, “my beloved.”

honestly, you could call him with a sweet endearment or a horrible one and he’ll still get the butterflies.

thoma, kazuha, diluc, baizhu, kaveh

he hums, quick to finish the request you have asked him and giving you what you needed before returning to what he was doing prior. it makes you wonder if he really heard what you said, choosing to ignore some, or a single word or maybe he did hear it and he just doesn’t care. you tried to give it a try, calling him not by his name but by an endearment, a sweet yet simple one but there was no reaction from him. 

unbeknownst to you, however, everything was a complete opposite to your thoughts.

he’s thinking, like not just some thinking but deep thinking, deep, deep thinking as if he’s contemplating a decision that could cause the end of the world if he doesn’t think of it properly when it’s literally just a word, 4 letters and 1 syllable. god, you have him on such a tight hold that you have him losing his rationality over a 2 consonant, 2 vowel term.

“you okay?” he was pulled out of the train of his thoughts and he hums, nodding. “i’m fine. i’m just thinking of something.” of what you said. he distracts himself with something else, continuing the task that he left off earlier and trying to finish it–gods above, he just wants to hear you say it again.

“just call me if you need anything.” you say and he only inclined his head as a response. it was quiet once again, a little bit tense but you could manage, in some sense, it was also comforting and peaceful (honestly, you were doing everything you can to not think of what he’s thinking because he’s been oddly silent and you just couldn't understand him).

however, he’s thinking, still. i mean, aside from confessions and simple ‘i love you’s, it’s the first time he had heard you call him in an endearment and that one at that in a rather casual setting: you have asked him for something, that was it. the way you said it sounded so natural, so smooth, as if you have practiced saying it multiple times–in which, you probably did but he doesn’t know of. he just can't wrap his head around it and he fears that his thoughts are going to come out of his mind at this point, it was loud and muddling the insides of his head.

love.

he repeats it inside his head.

you’re going to be the death of him, at this point.

alhaitham, xiao, zhongli, albedo, cyno, tighnari

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[star-girl69]

Don’t Delete The Kisses

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

—-

synopsis: after breaking someone’s heart as apart of your initiation into the aphrodite cabin, you don’t think love is meant for you after your cruelty. clarisse thinks you’re ridiculous.

a/n: my friend was talking about how like insane this song makes her and i was like oh so this is genius

Don’t Delete The Kisses - Wolf Alice

warnings: insecure and very sad y/n ☹️, so like yeah all of that stuff, very ooc clarisse but IDC, i hate everyone but you trope fr, more talking about our feelings which we know is very hard for clarisse, the usual mentions of death and weapons, all that demigod stuff, more clarisse wanting, clarisse is insane as always i love her my ladybug fr, swearing, mentions of food, crap ton of violence, broken noses, whole bunch of blood, teeth get knocked out, yeah, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“Well, did you do it?”

You wanted to sneak into the Aphrodite cabin silently, hoping your pink jacket would blend into the walls and hide you. But that was just wishful thinking. That was just something you whispered to yourself on the walk back to comfort your shaking body, wiping away the tears.

This is your initiation. They’re all sitting on their beds, waiting with eager eyes, greedy for a taste of someone else’s suffering, the comfort of knowing it’s not their own.

“Yes,” you say, pretending tears don’t rim your eyes.

You stand stall, shutting the cabin door behind you.

“I did it.”

Your sister Drew stands up and grabs your hand. You think she might comfort you. You think she might tell you Carter was in it all along, you didn’t really hurt him, it was all some elaborate prank.

Instead, she raises your hand up in the air and turns towards the rest of your siblings.

“Y/N!” she says, “Daughter of Aphrodite!”

Your siblings clap and cheer, smiling widely- one of the younger girls runs right up to you and hugs you, face in your stomach.

“You played him so good,” she giggles, pigtails swinging in the air. She is so naïve, so young, so unknowing. You wonder if you can give yourself amnesia if you slam your head into the column holding up the cabin.

You would do anything to forget this night. To forget the look on Carter’s face. He fell in love with you and you let your siblings guide you on what to do, what to say, you let them dress you up and and put pretty bows in your hair that he reached out to touch.

He thought he would end the night with a kiss, but instead he ended the night with your hand in his face, scoffing animatedly and asking “How could he ever think a daughter of Aphrodite could like him?”

You could feel his heart break, and you could feel your mother ghosting around the wind, you could feel the muscles in your face strain as your eyes filled with tears.

You wrap your arms around your younger sister and force yourself to chuckle.

“His face was so funny,” you say, but there was an unintended action to your initiation. Your heart broke too. You saw the look on his face- if that is how losing love feels then you never want to give yourself the chance to lose it.

Besides, it’s not like you could ever deserve love after this. The love your siblings crave but never quite get. True, encompassing, all-consuming love. After this night, after the hatred coiling up in your stomach like a snake, it’s just not meant for you.

—-

Everyone at Camp calls you princess.

It made you feel like a baby, weak, like you were nothing but a pretty face. But no matter how much you flinched at the nickname, grimaced when you found yourself answering to its call, no one stopped.

Your siblings all cooed and said it was so fitting, saying with curled lips that you were most definitely Aphrodite’s favorite. Your hair always fell in the most beautiful way, your makeup always stayed and looked beautiful, you know you can’t walk through camp without someone looking at you.

Especially after your charmspeak developed, you became a shell of yourself, scared constantly like you are just a walking knife, doomed to cut anyone you come near.

You’re not that different from your siblings- the only difference is you won’t ever lead someone on. You won’t ever make anyone thing they have a chance. Because you’ll never break someone’s heart again.

You’re still Aphrodite’s daughter, you still like to look pretty. So, you do your makeup and your hair, you revel in the feelings of eyes on you but you choose your words carefully.

But other than that, you despise love, your mother, everything about the Aphrodite Cabin.

But you suck it up, you let boys fix your posture, let them teach you to fight while they dream of kissing you, and you work silently and you wait to get out of this hellhole Camp.

You stay silent and you let them realize that you’re just simply not interested in a relationship. They’re sad, but their hearts aren’t broken.

Everybody calls you princess. But Clarisse says it differently.

Clarisse La Rue is probably the bane of your existence. She’s drop dead gorgeous, you would kill to run your hands through her curls, and she is the most talented person you know in battle. You’re pretty good, after all this silent training and the tips and tricks shared in vain, but she is a force.

She’s the one guilty pleasure you let yourself have. If only because you know she’s too strong to get hurt. So you let yourself look, keep a secret crush tight in your chest- only bursting out when you can’t stand it, and you just have to stare at her and revel in that for a second.

The thing about Clarisse is that she likes you. Which would be fine, you just tried to stay away, but she kept coming back for more and more until it became impossible to ignore her. It’s like you two were just doomed to forever be in love with each other, and you have to live with that and eat it like crow.

It’s not like she outwardly flirts with you. She just says your nickname differently. She caresses the words and says it softer. She doesn’t stare at you like everyone else- she looks at you. It feels amazing, your one guilty pleasure is to revel in her love from far away, but you make it clear that you don’t want a relationship and you never will.

Clarisse seems intent either to ignore that or wait you out. You don’t let her get close enough. You won’t break someone else’s heart.

Everyone calls you princess. You only like it when Clarisse says it.

—-

“Hi, princess.”

You don’t look at him, focusing on tying your shoes instead. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, I thought I could help you.”

You finish tying your laces, taking your foot up off of the bench and onto the ground. You grab your sword, hair tied back, tank top and stretchy pants. He looks you up and down. You do the same.

“Uh… Van, right?”

“Funny name so you won’t forget it, huh?” he winks, and you very obviously grimace.

“Ha, yeah.” You set your sights on a dummy currently not being attacked by a sword or spear and take a step forward.

“I noticed,” he starts, arm in front of you, stopping you from moving. “That the only weapon you don’t know how to use is the spear.”

You finally look at him. He’s wearing cargo pants and the orange camp t-shirt. His hand is plain and blonde, cut short, and his cheeks seem to be permanently flushed. He’s a son of Ares, pretty good fighter, but nothing else to speak for. Clarisse, at least, is the absolute best at almost everything she does- and she puts in the work to show it.

Van looks like he trains the minimum amount and gets by on his natural abilities as a demigod.

“Okay?” you say, wanting nothing more than to get away from him and go back to training. “I don’t get what you’re saying. And don’t flirt with me, either- one of my siblings would be happy to make out with you in a shed somewhere.”

“I’ll teach you,” he says, slightly exasperated. You finally notice he is, in fact, holding a spear. “Huh?”

You squint at him.

You do have a reputation in this camp. Part of the reason you’re called princess is because you’re standoffish and cold- people mistake it as you thinking you’re better than them. Really, you’re one of the worst people at this camp. You’re saving them from being tainted by association.

But every once in a while, someone will get it in their heads that soulmates do exist, and they’re the right person for you- and you’re mean and you shut them down, but that’s way before they fall in love. It hurts them, but not as much as it hurts you, not as much as it would hurt them if you gave them any ounce of attention.

The only person who keeps coming back for more sticks her spear into the ground next to you, fingers drumming against the wood.

“Van, you look fucking stupid.”

“Clarisse,” Van hisses, glaring at her. She glares right back, unimpressed. “Can you just go? Fuck.”

She raises her eyebrows. His spear hits the dirt before you can even comprehend that Clarisse kicked it out of his hands, and you have to admit- Clarisse is quick. Clarisse is good at what she does.

She pours everything she’s got into training- and pursuing you. You think it might just be a joke at this point, or something she finds fun, been doing it too long that stopping feels wrong. You would be lying if you said it wouldn’t be weird for her to stop. For both of you to stop whatever this is. This silent wanting.

“First of all, you are mediocre with a spear. Second, if Y/N wanted spear lessons she would come to me, right?”

“I don’t know,” you huff, walking away.

“Clarisse,” you can hear Van groan. “She was going to say yes until you ruined it.”

“Bro, she was not going to say yes. You’re welcome for saving your ass from even more embarrassment, Gods.”

“You’re just mad she doesn’t like you after you’ve been pining for years.”

She laughs, loud and boisterously, but there’s an edge to her voice, one of doubt, something like she’s scared.

“Oh, you’re fucking funny,” she says, and you can hear her slapping his shoulder. You stretch, risking a glance over your shoulder- Van is walking off and she’s looking at you.

But when your eyes meet hers, she quickly looks away. And you notice. You notice, but you do nothing about it. The way it’s always meant to be.

—-

The strawberry fields is the most beautiful place at camp. It’s where you feel something for your mother, because while gardening and plants are Demeter’s thing- finding beauty in the way the strawberry sits in your hand, the way the sun turns the sky into purple and oranges, the way the bright green trees stand out against that- it’s all your mother.

You can appreciate beauty here.

You see beauty everywhere, and you see love everywhere, but not the kinds your mother is famous for.

You’ve been picking strawberries for what seems like hours now, but it’s bearable under the setting sun and when you think about how good it will feel to finally sink into your bed.

“Y/N!” someone calls. “Princess!” you roll your eyes but stand up, turning around and putting your hand over your face to protect from the setting sun.

“Yeah?!” you shout back, squinting. You realize you’re alone in the fields.

“We’re heading back!” a Demeter girl, Sasha, says.

Your eyes flick to your basket that will only take a few more minutes to fill up.

“I’ll go back later!”

“Okay!” she shouts back, running off after everyone else.

You crouch back down, taking a deep breath before you begin ruffling through the leaves of the strawberry plant to find the juicy berries. You sneak a few as you work, shuffling down the line of plants. It’s so calm here. There’s no one to hurt. There’s nothing to be scared of.

When you stand up, there’s four figures standing by the shed. You gasp, bringing your hand to your chest, but Clarisse takes off her helmet.

“Princess?” she asks. “What’cha doin’ out here all alone?”

“Collecting strawberries,” you snort, full basket hitting your knees as you walk towards her.

“I see that,” she huffs. You notice Van behind her, and another sister, Carrie, a brother named Matty. “But what are you doin’ out here alone?”

You shrug, coming to a stop in front of the little group of Ares kids.

“Everyone else left.”

“It’s almost dark.”

“Not yet, though,” you smile sarcastically.

Carrie and Matty continue walking after they realize nothing fun is going to happen. You’re not gonna entertain them, so why would they care? But Clarisse and Van stay. You stare at Clarisse for a moment longer before finally looking away.

“You don’t have a weapon,” Van notes. “Smart to be out here alone?”

“Oh, relax,” you sigh. “We’re still in the barrier.”

You tighten your grip on the bucket and turn left, walking towards the shed. Clarisse is hot on your heels.

“And how do you know that? What if it had spontaneously, like, failed and shut down, or something.”

“Then I think everyone would be running around and screaming, because monsters would be crawling through camp. I would know.”

You place the bucket next to all the other buckets collected today- you’ll keep the good ones here over night, away from the animals and bugs and someone will collect them in the morning.

You stand up, rolling your wrists, wiping the sweat from your brow. You take the small cutters for the thicker branches from your pocket and throw it into the bin with the others.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you can walk me back.”

“I jus’ think it’s stupid to be out here all alone,” she shrugs. You stare right past her, watching as the door slams shut. Was it windy?

Clarisse whips around, but sees it’s just the closed door. You frown, Clarisse steps forward.

“Sorry, Clarisse!” Van shouts from outside, and that’s when you hear the lock sliding into place. Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s done.

“Van, what the hell?!” Clarisse shouts, trying the knob. The door stays firmly shut. She slams her shoulder into it, but this place was built strong to protect from the elements, from all the little animals hungry for strawberries. “Let us out right fucking now, I swear, Van!”

“I can’t!” he says back, sounding sort of pained. “I just couldn’t get her alone!”

“Me?!” you yell, feeling increasingly trapped and claustrophobic. You shove Clarisse out of the way and rattle the doorknob, but it really is locked. “I didn’t do shit to you! Let me the fuck out!”

“For Carter!”

You take a step back. Your face falls from anger and anxiety into pure and utter turmoil. Your chest squeezes like it does every time you think about him. You carry the pain and the regret so heavily you doubt you’ll ever get rid of it. You’ll always be like this, rotting in your head, watching your beauty fade away and everyone give up on you.

Will you finally be free then? If you scream and take a knife to your face, make yourself unrecognizable, will everyone finally leave you alone then? Can you be something other than this stupid camp’s stupid princess?

But it’s wishful thinking. You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, and you were born to be beautiful, and you were born to be alone.

“Van, I’ll fucking kill you. Let. Us. Out.”

“Sorry!” he shouts, and you hear his footsteps in the dirt, running away while Clarisse screams for him to come back here.

You take a deep breath but it all comes crashing down like a dam breaking. All of the anger, the regret, the fear, it all comes pouring out until you’re sobbing into your hands in the middle of the shed.

Clarisse stops trying to break through the door. It’s painfully tense for a moment, nothing besides the crickets and the sounds of your sobs. You end up sitting on half-empty bags of fertilizer and mulch in the corner- although it’s not really used much, sometimes the Demeter kids like to experiment- it’s the most comfortable thing in this shed.

You’re 17 now, and you broke Carter’s heart when he was 13 and you were 12. You wake up and you feel your guilt like you feel the sun on your face- it’s your morning routine to stare at yourself in the mirror and know that you are the blessed one who doesn’t deserve it. You beg to be free, but this is your punishment.

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “How does he not know I’m sorry?”

You never said it to him, of course- your siblings had told you Aphrodite would curse you if you said you were sorry, and you were 12 and scared so you shut up and you stared at him from afar, your first love and your first heartbreak. Could he not see the way you hated yourself? The way you hated everyone?

Why couldn’t anyone see that you weren’t a princess? You were a demon, so wicked you were worthy of being Hades’ right hand minion.

Clarisse sits down heavily next to you. She doesn’t say anything. She waits until the sobs start to ebb like a wave, until the worst is over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, one final time. Maybe the wind will take pity on you and carry your words to him. You wish it would, but why? Why do you deserve it? Your nails dig into your palms, leaving blood red moons.

“Why are you sorry?” Clarisse breathes, seeming more genuinely curious then demeaning. “Who’s Carter?”

You miss the way her lip curls around the name.

“I can’t tell you,” you moan, because Clarisse is the only person who actually gives half a fuck about you, and it feels so nice to have her eyes on you- not in the way everyone else does. They admire you, despise you, she appreciates you. She stares at you from afar and you both know that you want more, but she’s content to stare and you’re content to let her.

She laughs. “Yes, you can. I wouldn’t even care if you killed someone named Carter. But seeing as you escaped punishment from Chiron, and you only got locked in a shed, it’s probably not that bad.”

When you look up at her you can feel the mascara streaming down your face. You’re sure you look like a raccoon, and you can see how unnerving it is for her to see you- always so calm and put together- reduced to tears by a single name.

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite, Clarisse.”

“I know,” she says, although it sounds like a question.

You stare at her, not able to say it, trying to convey to her with your eyes. You can practically see the cogs turning in her head as she thinks about the Aphrodite cabin.

“Oh,” she says. A few tears fall down your face. “The initiation thing- you have to break someone’s heart, right?”

“Yes,” you say, bitterly, resisting the urge to throw something and have a tantrum. You press your hands into your eyes, breathing heavily. “That stupid, stupid initiation. I hate being her daughter. I hate being like this.”

The hug starts out awkward. Clarisse places her arm lightly around your shoulders, starts mumbling apathetically that it’ll be okay. It’s not that she doesn’t care or anything, you’re both just foreign to what it’s like to feel this way for someone.

And it feels good to have someone touching you, so before you can stop yourself you’re shoving your way in her arms. She stiffens, sits up straight as your tears stain her orange camp shirt. But after a moment she hugs you back just as fiercely, with just as much desperation. She doesn’t say anything, probably because she doesn’t know what to say, and you can’t even comprehend your embarrassing, secret, unrealistic guilty pleasure of a crush is hugging you right now.

You’re too focused on the way she shushes you softly, her arm against your waist, the other around your shoulder- thumb drawing circles on your skin.

You’re too focused on the way she feels against you to even care about how awkward this will be later.

Finally, when night has really fallen and the wind starts to howl, you let go of Clarisse.

“Sorry,” you mumble, body locking up, staring firmly at the ground. Your face is caked in runny makeup- you feel as disgusting as you’re sure you look.

“It’s okay,” she says, hesitating for a moment before she stops touching you. “I, uh, I don’t think you should hate yourself.”

You scoff. Both at the ridiculousness of her stuttering and what she’s saying. “Whatever,” you mumble.

“No, I’m being serious.” She seems a little firmer now, like she really believes what she’s saying. But she doesn’t know you. “You shouldn’t hate yourself. Like, what do you even mean, you “hate being like this?’ What’s this?”

“I’m a monster, Clarisse. Literally, a fucking monster. I’m a horrible person, and yet everyone walks around and calls be princess because, what? I’m pretty? You can still be Aphrodite’s favorite and a monster. Maybe I am her favorite for a reason. Because of what I did.”

“A monster? Really?”

She looks at you like you’re the stupidest girl in the world. And Gods, coming from someone like Clarisse does that hurt.

You stare her down like you’re not about to cry. You squint so the tears won’t come, digging your nails into your palms to distract from the feeling in your stomach.

“I asked him to meet me at night. He told me he thought he loved me, and I laughed in his fucking face and said how could he ever think that I would love him? Who does that? Who is so fucked in the head?”

You look at her face, slightly twinged with disgust, and it feels good. It feels good to drive someone else away. To save them from yourself.

“This is my punishment. My life. And I hate it, but I know it’s what’s meant for me. I’ll never be loved. No matter how beautiful I am. I won’t let myself, I won’t hurt someone else. I don’t deserve it.”

She grabs your hand. You look at her, and she’s still so disgusted, so why is she touching you? Why is her face morphing into concern? Why does she still look at you like you’re this precious thing? Why do you like it? Why do you crave her like air?

“You don’t deserve this,” she says.

Why isn’t she listening to you?

“I don’t, Clarisse. Just- jus’ stop, please.”

But it finally hits you why she’s so disgusted. It’s not what you did, it’s the way you think about yourself.

“You came to camp when you were 12, right, so that’s when you completed your initiation? So, you were 12. You were 12 and listening to your older siblings. You were 12 and you made a mistake, and you’ve spent years and years punishing yourself over it. Most of the people at camp are blind, Y/N, but I’m not. I see the way you treat yourself, and that- you just don’t deserve that.”

“Fine,” you mumble, feeling a little breathless. “Maybe I was 12. But it’s too late. Everyone at camp thinks I’m a bitchy fucking princess.”

She smiles. “Well, you are.”

You throw her hand off of you and pretend to glare at her, but you’re smiling.

“You are a princess, Y/N, let me help you see it.”

Clarisse is your secret crush. She was a comfort for lonely nights, someone to think about when you were eating alone at dinner. And it didn’t help that she would stare at you while you imagined her sitting across from you. Clarisse is your secret crush, locked up in your chest and waiting to burst out like a cuckoo clock.

Clarisse is your secret crush, unrealistic and wishful thinking- but the way she looks at you right now makes it real.

The door clicks open.

“Oh,” Sasha, the girl yelling at you earlier says. “Sorry- I forgot my… uh…”

You quickly stand up, pushing Clarisse away from you. Sasha moves to the side and let’s you through the door. Against your better judgement, you stop and look over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, princess.”

—-

The next day, after waking up and realizing what happened yesterday wasn’t a bad dream, Clarisse is really doing something this sweet for you, you’re ready to forget it all ever happened and sit alone as you usually do.

You stand at the edge of the pavilion, searching across the tables for an empty one-

“Y/N!” Clarisse yells. She looks at you expectantly, and you notice the empty seat next to her.

Oh. She wants you to sit with her.

As beautiful and sweet Clarisse is, you still can’t let her be anything more than your secret crush. But you can sit with her for one meal. You can pretend, and maybe that will hold you over when you eventually succeed in pushing her away.

Your head was clouded by her touch, her smell, her voice- you weren’t in the right state of mind to be making decisions about “seeing Clarisse tomorrow.”

You stop at the fire pit in the middle of the pavilion.

“Please, Mom,” you mutter, dumping almost all of your plate into the flames.

This is probably the first time you’ve really prayed to her since the day you broke Carter’s heart.

You set your tray down next to her, swinging your legs over the bench and under the table, settling yourself in. Her siblings don’t even look up, all busy eating identical bagel sandwiches- you squint, resisting the urge to laugh at the cheese, bacon, sausage, and eggs. Ares kids are always eating the most gluttonous foods, seeing as they train 24/7.

Clarisse glares at your plate.

“What?” you say, shifting awkwardly in your seat.

“That is not enough food.” And while your plate mostly is empty space, you’re really not that hungry this morning.

You shrug. “I was in a praying mood today.”

“Don’t care, go get more.”

You roll your eyes, but you’d be lying if you said her concern didn’t make your stomach twist in a good way.

“Okay, I’ll grab something on my way out.”

She hums, turning back to your sandwich. All of her siblings are intent on eating their big sandwiches, a few people at the end of the table talk in between bites- but the Ares kids take breakfast very seriously. They’re a bit more rowdy at lunch and dinner, but breakfast is always such a sordid affair, like someone died.

Someone else sits at the table. You look up from your plate, watching as Van digs into his sandwich, sporting a black eye, a bruised cheek, and a busted lip.

“Oh,” you mumble, cringing at his bloody, messy face.

You look over at Clarisse, notice her knuckles are split open. She feels you looking at her and turns to you, a bite of half-chewed sandwich in her mouth.

“Wha-” she starts, but catches Van out of the corner of her eye. She giggles, just a bit, and it makes your stomach twist. “Oh, Van, you are one of the funniest people I have ever met.”

Everyone at the table turns to him.

A few giggle at his busted up face, Clarisse smiles at him in that demeaning way she’s famous for.

“Move.”

“I’m not fuckin’ movin’, Clarisse. Go fuck yourself.”

One of her siblings laughs loudly. Matty, you recognize him. “Dude, you’re seriously going to get beat up- again.”

“You are,” Clarisse shrugs. “I’m serious, move.”

Van rolls his eyes and sets his sandwich down.

“Listen, Carter’s my friend, he never wanted to get revenge, but I wanted to get it for him. I know it’d make him feel better. I was tryin’ to convince him to go fuck up her bed or something when… well, yeah. I didn’t mean to trap you in there with her, Clarisse, okay? I know you’re fuckin’ obsessed with her, whatever, but she’s a serious bitch. And not even that hot.”

Matty puts his head in his hands.

The table is deathly silent. He looks around.

“Come on. All those Aphrodite kids are stuck-up bitches, but she’s just got a particular rudeness about her, huh? And, really, I don’t think I could fuck her even if the world was ending.”

“What the fuck,” someone across from you, Max, mumbles. A girl adjacent to you coos softly, and you realize that there’s tears falling down your face.

Clarisse puts her hand on your thigh.

“Van,” she says, her voice calm and even. She breathes in and out. “I am going to fucking kill you.”

Van looks over to Clarisse, and that’s when he finally notices you sitting next to her.

“I-” he starts, but doesn’t get to finish, not when you pick up your tray and throw it across the table- hitting him directly in the nose. “Holy fuck!” he shouts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Gods, fuck-”

You stand up and make your way around the table, tears clouding your vision, and he quickly stands up as well. No one makes any move to hold you back or protect him.

“Bitch,” he hisses. “Huh? Come at me, princess.”

And you meet him, attacking like a feral cat, all scratching and kicking and hitting, a fury fueled fully by your anger and the beauty in letting it all go. He grunts and tries to hit you back, but they barely touch you.

You can see Clarisse out of the corner of your eye, watching closely, arms crossed over her chest. It takes you a second, but for some reason, you can see her face so clearly. She’s slightly worried. She watches the fight with an intensity, like she’s happy to let you fight him- but if he actually hurts you, then she’ll jump in. But more importantly, she’s proud.

Gods, does it make you feel good.

“Fucking- bitch!” he shouts. “Get off of me!”

He pushes you back, you steel yourself. When he sees you coming at him again, he punches you hard. You swear you see stars. You swear you almost met Hades, just for a second.

Blood runs down your face, gushing like a geyser- you groan, one of Clarisse’s siblings making you pinch your nose and tilt your head back. Matty puts his hand on your shoulder, and mutters something encouraging about keeping your head back.

It’s all a daze.

“Clarisse!” her sister Carrie shouts, trying to hold her back while Van scrambles away on the ground, yelling incoherently about his teeth. “Clarisse! Clarisse! You got him, you got him, c’mon.”

It all comes rushing over you. Adrenaline kept you sane just for moment, but all the pain comes rushing back, and you almost scream with how much it hurts. You double down, chest pressing to your stomach while Matty and someone else try desperately to pull you back upward.

“Oh, Gods, why does it hurt so bad?” you say, more blood gushing forward, even through your fingers. It’s running down your neck and chest, permanently ruining your shirt.

“Van has a good right hook,” Matty winces. “Ass at everything else, but.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. She’s in front of you in a moment, hands under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back. You can feel your face is absolutely covered in blood. “Hey, it’s alright,” she says, so softly that you’re the only one who can hear. “Okay, I’ll take you to the infirmary, okay?”

Matty let’s go of you, Clarisse replaces him, arm wrapping around your waist, fingertips still keeping your chin up. You walk in silence until you reach the infirmary.

She chuckles a bit. “You’re good,” she says.

“At what?” you groan, eyes screwed shut. “Getting punched?”

“No,” she says. “Just… you’re good.”

One of the healers rushes over before you can even think of an answer.

—-

After your nose was reset, your shirt was changed, and all the blood was cleaned- you sat in the empty infirmary. Van was in a private room with most of the healers who were having a fun time trying to fix his face and do something with the teeth Clarisse knocked out.

She finds you slipping your shoes on, face puffy, a bag of ambrosia in your hand.

“Princess,” she says. “I told them it was all me. So, you’re fine. I made up some shit about you getting caught in the crossfire.”

Your chest deflates a bit. You were sort of looking forward to the punishment. “You didn’t have to do that, Clarisse.”

She shrugs. “I wanted to. And I do whatever I want.”

You smile, and she sits down next to you on the creaky bed.

“What’d you get?”

“Oh,” she sighs, hands on her knees. “5 months no dessert. 3 months of teaching sword practice to the little kids, that’s gonna be like Tartarus come again.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “It’s all my fault.”

“I could have easily let the two of you beat each other to death. But I didn’t. You were too busy winning that fight to care about what I was doing.”

“I didn’t win,” you scoff. “If you didn’t jump in, the way he punched me, he got me.”

“You didn’t know about Van and his right hook,” she shrugs. “It’s okay. I fucked up his face a bit, but you did so much better.”

You’ve been permanently on the edge of tears because of the pressure in your nose, so when they spill over, it’s no surprise.

“W-why are you crying?” Clarisse asks, turning slightly towards you, placing her hand on your arm.

“Still a monster,” you remark, sarcastic smile on your face. “I shouldn’t have done that to him. I… I was just mad. And look, here I am escaping with no punishment yet again.”

You go to stand up, feeling like your heart is a hole in your chest.

She puts her hand on your thigh to stop you.

“I think… just the fact that you feel so bad means you’re not a monster. I don’t feel shit for Van. I’m glad he got hurt. I would do it again. I hope I get to do it again.”

“You’re horrible, Clarisse,” you smile. She smiles back.

“The only person I feel bad for is… you. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt bad for. Everyone else in this camp is blind, Y/N. But I’m not. Not when it comes to you.”

And it’s like you’re seeing her for the first time. The way her curls always stick up in that one place, the way her eyes reflect the sunlight streaming through the window, the way the rough skin of her hands is nothing compared to the bones inside that hold you so softly. The way her lips look. The way she calls you princess. The way she sees you.

You’re both leaning forward, you’re both just teenage girls learning to love themselves, because you’ve always loved each other.

When her lips finally meet yours it all comes rushing back to you. You gasp and pull away after just a moment.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that-”

Clarisse grabs your face and kisses you.

“You’re not deleting that. I don’t care what you think of yourself right now,” she whispers, lips against yours. “Because you’re wrong, and I’m going to show you.”

And against your better judgement, you let her show you. She shows you with her hands in your hair, her hands on your neck, on your face, her lips against yours. You let her teach you love with just one kiss, and you decide you have a newfound appreciation for your mother.

If love feels this good, this beautiful, then you’ve been missing out.

This goes against everything you’ve been preaching for years. But you’ve found a new religion in her, you promise to listen to her and to feel what she makes you feel- no matter how wrong you think it is. Clarisse shows you it’s not wrong.

She finally pulls away for air, searching your eyes, but you can’t breathe when she’s not kissing you. She seems to like what she finds, because she smiles.

“You’re beautiful, princess,” she mutters, and kisses you again. “You’re beautiful, and you’re so kind, and I’ll show you what I’ve seen for years.”

Everyone calls you princess. But Clarisse says it differently. Clarisse says it like she’s caressing the word, pretending to caress you. Clarisse says it in the way you want her to say it, in the way that selfishly makes you feel so, so special. Clarisse says it like she knows you.

You were right. You’re not meant for love, it’s not meant for you. You’re meant for Clarisse.

—-

carter watching literally everyone fight over smth ridiculously stupid that happened when he was 12 and he got over 2 weeks after it happened: uh 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

—-

clarisse when she realizes y/n hates herself: WHAT????? HOW IS THIS???? HUH????? like she just doesn’t even understand she can’t comprehend it

y/n after hating herself for like 5 years and pretending she’s chill: 🤗

—-

van after he loses his teeth: 😞

clarisse when van loses his teeth: LETS GO FUCK THAT BITCH

—-

clarisse being y/n’s new religion btw 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

[pray4byron]

After Reading the Proposal and Wedding One shot I think it's called?

Can I please request the same characters(Adam, Lucifer and Vox) react to there kid having there Powers and how GN Reader and Them deal with it in an everyday bases

oh my god my brain has so many ideas i’m doing this right the freak now

also i’m so sorry this isn’t necessarily gn!reader becuz this does talk about pregnancy 😭

Warnings: AFAB!reader, pregnancy talk, ooc Adam?(?), swear words, potential S1 spoilers, Vox being a bit of a shitty dad

Adam, Lucifer, Vox w/ kids who have their powers (+ extra)

Adam

You and Adam probably wait awhile after your wedding until having kids, he wants to have his party lifestyle a little longer, and cmon, who can blame him?

At first he isn’t so sure, I mean, a small ball of flesh that just cries wasn’t the most entertaining thing to him… But he’ll do it for you

But the moment you tell him your pregnant, something in him clicks.

He’s very invested in the kids before their even born, he’s reading all those cheesy and old baby books constantly, cause honestly, he’s not as prepared as he’d thought he’d be

Simply because I see Adam as both a boy dad and a girl dad let’s say you two have twins 😛

He’s a good dad not gonna lie, but let’s be real, he tried to make at least one of his kids say “feces” as their first word… yeah, you weren’t too happy. 😀

Growing up, he definitely spoiled his girl and roughhoused with his boy, maybe a bit too much…

He was definitely a baseball or softball dad

Considering Adam’s foul language, they definitely grew up at swearing at a young age, but it stayed in the house dw

As the kids grew into their early teens they discovered their shared their dads powers — and bitch was through the roof about it

Adam started training them on how to use their powers to their liking, but also taught them the safety of them. He was actually a pretty good teacher ngl.

Lucifer

Obviously, from his past marriage with Lilith, he already had his first kid, so he was ready — he was just waiting for you to be as well

So when you were, he was stoked !

He was very aware and attentive during your pregnancy, trying to not make the same mistakes he did the first time around

He’s also very understanding about mood swings and he WILL go out in the middle of the night to get you cravings, he doesn’t have to, but he will

But when you both bring another daughter Morningstar into the world, Charlie is thrilled to have a younger sister!

She definitely babysits a lot, and the child definitely spends a lot of time in the hotel

Luci dedicates certain times of the day when he can not and will not have meetings or projects to be working on so he can dedicate time to both of his daughters.

He loves asking your daughter how her day was, and how schools going, but he also asks how her friends are to stress that grades aren’t the only thing that matter

As your daughter grows, she starts to develop Lucifer’s powers, only a small fraction — considering how powerful he is, but he’s stoked that not one, but now both of his daughters have his powers!

He’s been through training them before with Charlie, so he’s pretty skilled on how to do it now, but he tends to stress to your daughter the usage of the powers and the rights and wrongs are far more important than the strength you have

Vox

Vox was in no rush to have kids due to the current workload for VoxTech, but if you wanted them, all you had to do was ask

Vox, like Adam, couldn’t really wrap his head (or screen ig??) around the concept of a child until they were in his arms.

Vox wasn’t really sure how to handle a newborn, older kids were different, but this..? Maybe this wasn’t right for him…

It broke his heart every time he heard his son sob as a new born, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure what to do.

It’d be late at night and Vox would get out of your shared bed to go make sure the baby would stop crying before you’d wake.

He’d try everything, singing, rocking, bottle, changing the diaper, toys, everything. And it wouldn’t stop.

It’s not until you stir in your sleep and hear everything, you go to your son’s crib and simply hold him and he stops crying immediately, you set your son down and go back to sleep. Vox is literally amazed.

As your son ages into the ages of 6 and up is when it starts to get easier for Vox, by the time Vox can even slightly have a conversation with the kid it gets easier, the communication is a lot more clear

He doesn’t have a lot of time to play with his son due to VoxTech, so usually Vox will keep his son in his lap as he works in his office, he’ll even ask his son business questions! Even when he only gets gibberish back, he’ll take it. Hey, don’t judge him, client feedback is important.

As his son ages into his teen years, Vox starts turning a bit strict, he needs his son to be the coolest fucking kid in school, so Velvette tailors him a shit ton of clothes and Vox makes sure his son always has the newest gadget. Vox also is strict about keeping grades up, he wouldn’t ever take anything away for a bad grade, but your son may get a bit of lecture..

All of this is building up to something though, Vox really wants your son to take over VoxTech in his adult years, so he wants to make sure his son is prepared and experienced in the new world he’d enter, if he doesn’t want, Vox gets it, he may be a bit pushy though, but Vox has been in that place so he won’t push too hard.

At around the age of 15, your son developed Vox’s hypnosis powers.

Vox teaches your son how to use this to his advantage, like for example, VoxTech, but he also stressed there’s a time and place, and to not use it on someone you truly care about. Strategy is everything.

Is Vox the perfect parent? No. But no one is. But he genuinely has so much love for his son, and tbh he wants more kids…

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hello again! I am that Anon that requested the Reader is a Smiling Critter and blah blah, I need more and thank you for making these, my heart is filled <3

This is gonna be quite detailed, feel free to change it!

Note: This might be a lil ooc or perhaps more of an AU?? Ah yes, Dogday's legs aren't gone, still attached just for the sake of the nature of the dynamics here.

The reader is a Smiling Critter once again, they had a dream about their old friends ( ex: Smiling Critters or maybe the other toys ). After they woke up in tears, soon they decided to go around the factory in hopes of finding the mini toy versions of their old friends, something to hopefully lessen the ache in their heart. Yeah, they also forgot to tell Catnap where they went and uh the living mini toys noticed their absence and reported it to Catnap 💀

Catnap ain't happy about it, he finishes up whatever he was doing and went on to find the Reader himself ( we're special jk- ). Later, he finally found them, whatever he felt at that time came to halt as he saw the Reader sitting down on the floor, in a pile of toy versions of their old friends, HIS old friends, their old friends, silently weeping to themselves. Without a second thought, he curled up around the reader, patting their head as if to silently reassure them it'll be okay, Catnap was actually genuine about it though the reader knew that it's not that simple ( with the whole prototype and how Catnap just listens to him 💀 ). But in their sadness and loneliness, they let their guard down and sink into the giant cat's affection, feeling nostalgic as they remember they always used to do this during naptime, with THEIR old friends.

After the reader fell into a deep sleep, Catnap decided to just stay where they were even with second thoughts in his mind, in this very moment, the old Catnap is back, not the one that follows the Prototype like a lost puppy. The Catnap his old friends know, the one Dogday knows, the one Reader knows. But he snapped back to his senses, deciding to rest his head on top of the Reader's in order to shutdown all those thoughts, purring while at it. This is ALL FOR THEM, FOR JUSTICE, TO END THE MADNESS, the Prototype promised him.

.....

Dogday is silent as he listens to his " former " friend talk about the events that occured a few hours ago. Catnap has decided to visit Dogday, free him from the belts to eat the food he brought. Dogday silently took the food and ate them as he listens Catnap's talk, understandably hesitant to butt in. It was more than weird, Catnap changed so suddenly and drastically, but recently he was softer, more like the old Catnap, albeit still threatening.

" Dogday... " That made the giant dog snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing his name, his eyes met with Catnap's. Before letting out a surprised yelp as the cat pounced on him, Dogday was terrified for his fate until he felt long arms curled around him. Catnap was hugging him tightly. Read that again. Hugging him. The so-called heretic. Dogday now knows what his friend ( Reader ) felt when Catnap helps them get back to sleep.

This is the Catnap they knew, the actions speak louder than words one, he wasn't truly gone after all.

Night Befallen

Note || I cast brain rot upon ye 🤲

WC || 1,384

Sypnosis || Maybe, just maybe knowing what one can know now—your old friend isn’t entirely stolen away from you.

You had found yourself immersed in a poignant dream, revisiting cherished memories of old friends. Awaking with tears lingering on your lashes, you felt an insistent pull to embark on a heartfelt quest. Determined to reconnect with the essence of your past, you resolve to venture into the depths of the factory, in search of the miniature toy replicas of your beloved originals. With each step forward, anticipation intertwined with nostalgia, guiding your path through the echoes of your cherished history.

You just wished things had truly stayed the same, why did it all happen before–this, Hour of Joy–whatever it had been. CatNap, the same cat you came to cherish and love had been completely twisted, viewing Prototype as a god?

It just made no sense to you, everything is madness.

For now, perhaps you could absolve in finding peace with your recreational little toys, shadows of former friends they may be of course. 

“Tch-” You snorted, trying to keep yourself from breaking down in the face of your tiny little friends that are piling up around you. Just like all the old times before, the times… before. All the tiny smiling critters were just plain adorable though, so that was advantageous. 

Beyond the shadows, some creeping figures watching you took notice of your absence. No, not in CatNap’s home, nothing goes one without CatNap knowing of anything. 

A small critter skittered away, you didn’t notice—you were far in too deep to properly take recognition of anything happening, only mourning your former friends. Who knew trying to take a look at the essences of your past, a past of once where you were happy, content. You were just doing your job as a fellow critter, you loved your job. You loved being a critter, you loved your friends.

“You guys are so cute..” You smile softly, hugging them close in spite of the few stray tears streaming down your face. Normally, you’d wipe them away, but right now you just wanted to stay in the moment. 

Stay with all your old friends, even if they weren’t your real ones. 

You could be allowed the peace of illusion, atleast.

To say he was furious was an understatement, what had the tiny critter meant by your absence? 

In CatNap’s eyes, this was unacceptable. 

One should remain where they are, they are not to derail from their paths. You shouldn’t be derailing from your path. No matter the reason, he will quickly finish his patrolling, and come straight to you to put you in your place. Mostly, being stern. 

Should he allow you that courtesy? Yes, CatNap should. You are his old friend, you were so kind as to work with the Prototype (even if you were completely against it), CatNap will be lenient with you. 

Suddenly CatNap had gotten lost in thought, and lifted his paw to see what he was doing. Oh yes, he was killing a human survivor for their incompetence – that is what was happening. He repeatedly shook his paw to get the remains of the human off his claws and paw as well, the blood remained on his fur unfortunately. CatNap can find some way to clean that off later.

As if he was sighing, CatNap’s mouth emitted a large breath of Poppy Gas, something of which he used sparsely; only when he wanted to block out people from areas he didn’t want them in. CatNap admittedly felt as if what he was doing here was wrong, but it was only in the name of the Prototype. 

CatNap finally went on his way once he cleared his head of these troubling thoughts, he was going to deal with you and he wouldn’t delay it any longer.

He always had eyes all around Playcare, did you really think you could get away with this so easily? Prototype is leader, god. He would not allow anyone to defile Prototype’s name, not even you.

No matter, he was going to make this quite clear.

It seemed the small smiling critters had felt his immense aura for bloodlust, causing them to skitter away from whence he came. CatNap without a shadow of a doubt, can be terrifying. 

CatNap simply paid no mind, and continued on making his way toward you. 

Even in all the rubble and dust, one clear distinction his keen ears could pick up was reminiscent of crying. To the normal ear, one would not be able to hear this. It was so silent, was it out of a fear that you were crying so silently?

No, it was because of the smiling critters, the smaller bodies. Merely replicas, but so well done for just being copies of the original critters. Shadows always danced in CatNap’s headspace, perhaps he could make it out the same within your case. He had always crossed his heart, locking it away in soul and key. CatNap deemed it all unnecessary. Yet, with you it was recurring.

Slowly enough, whatever emotions – whatever anger he had before was fading away. CatNap was overcome with a sense of sympathy, he wanted to comfort you, his friend. Now he just came to a complete halt, trying to figure out what was wise on what to do. 

CatNap felt pitiful, sounding low when he remembered those very screams. 

You have seen just as much as he did.

Hesitantly, he stepped forward, CatNap didn’t want to frighten you out of your stupor. His long elongated tail wrapped around your being, calmly re-adjusting you with a steady stance. CatNap laid down, folding his back legs and crossing his front ones. He so suddenly cuddled up against you, patting your head to reassure you silently. 

You nodded your head, snapping to the attention of CatNap’s presence. You knew otherwise that he wasn’t being as genuine, in spite of it being real in his eyes. 

Otherwise, you didn’t feel as on guard. You weren’t stressed or protesting in any case, you felt as if you were falling asleep. You began to fall asleep, CatNap sensed this, curling up against you to feel more comfortable. 

That was in your sadness and loneliness, had sleep finally claimed you – purely out of nostalgia that you had used to do this during naptime, with your old friends. 

Abornormally enough, he didn’t feel so angry. CatNap felt more as if he was at peace with you, even with these thoughts. How the Prototype had promised him justice, to end all the madness, just for you… for all of them. 

In a moment soon enough, CatNap had promptly followed you into sleep. 

If death was a choice, then he rejects it.

Silent and contemplative, DogDay listened as his "former friend" recounted the recent events, memories of comforting you when tears flowed and offering solace in the embrace of sleep. CatNap's unexpected visit and the subsequent act of liberation from his restraints were met with wary acceptance as DogDay consumed the offered sustenance, his attention captured by CatNap's unusual demeanor.

It was a peculiar sight, witnessing CatNap revert to a semblance of his former self amidst the oppressive atmosphere of their surroundings. Despite the underlying threat that lingered in CatNap's presence, there was a glimmer of familiarity in his actions, stirring a sense of unease within DogDay's battered psyche.

“This isn’t his usual behavior,” or “He’s just now had a revelation?” 

Lost in his thoughts, DogDay was abruptly pulled back to reality by the mention of his name, a sharp reminder of the precariousness of his situation. Anticipation coiled within him as CatNap lunged forward, bracing for the inevitable retribution that awaited him. Yet, to his astonishment, instead of aggression, he was enveloped in an unexpected embrace.

Stunned and bewildered, DogDay felt the weight of CatNap's arms around him, a gesture of affection that defied all expectations. In that fleeting moment of connection, DogDay experienced a revelation, a glimpse into the profound bond shared between you and CatNap, a bond forged amidst the chaos and strife of your shared existence.

As the echoes of their encounter lingered in the air, DogDay found himself grappling with newfound understanding. The warmth of CatNap's embrace, though fleeting, offered a glimpse of redemption amidst the shadows of his past transgressions. And in that moment, DogDay realized the profound impact of companionship, transcending the boundaries of fear and prejudice.

[s0ulryo]

König with a Medic S/O Scenario *:･ﾟ

[König x Reader] Synopsis: König getting patched up by his favorite medic —you. Tags: Soft, konig lovers we rise, established relationship (i forget to put this tag on a ton of things whoops), mentions of distress (?) Notes: Prolly ooc, not proofread, his voice is so mmmmm, also my brain blanked so many times while writing this so im vv sorry for the wonky formatting

Thank you @uselsshuman for letting me write about this!

(Reader is always gn unless specified otherwise.)

König dislikes a lot of things. He wouldn’t say he hates anything but the list of dislikes has grown over the years. For example, König dislikes crowded places, the smell of cigarettes, getting injured, having to go to a medic to treat his injury, having to see you — who is a medic to treat his injury, having to get chewed out by you for obtaining an injury — you get the point.

So here he sits, listening to you freak out about the injury he obtained while being deployed. He knows you don’t mean any harm by it; you’re just concerned for his safety — König appreciates it, he really does — but he’s also a little stressed out by your current commentary.

“Oh my God — König, how the hell did you manage to do this?”

He honestly doesn’t think it’s that bad; sure, the wound looks terrible — but it doesn’t feel too horrible, so it can’t be too bad, right?

Wrong.

“König, are you listening to me? König, are you alright?”

König’s very thankful for you. He thinks you’re awfully nice and very understanding about his feelings, and in all honesty, he’s not sure how he managed to get with someone like you, but he’s not going to question it — he’s just going to enjoy it.

“Sorry, could you repeat what you just said?” König mumbles out sheepishly.

He can’t help it. You’re exceptionally attractive, and König now realizes his arm is in an exceptional amount of pain — and bleeding tremendously. ‘Things like attractive S/O and immense amounts of pain due to physical injury usually make it difficult to focus,’ he reasons to himself.

Sighing, you shake your head. “König, please try to avoid getting injured — this is the second time this week….”

Nodding softly in acknowledgment, König continues to watch you gather the supplies you need to patch his arm up; his eyes flicker around in discomfort, bouncing his leg up and down to keep his mind occupied. Sure he’s sustained worse injuries than this, but getting patched up has always made him anxious.

Swallowing thickly, König tries to place himself out of this situation – somewhere nicer than your medical workspace that smells like antiseptic – anywhere else than here.

He watches you set to work, his eyes closely following the movement of your hands on his arm, cleaning the wound gently, trying to make the process quicker and easier on him.

He’s vaguely aware that his breathing got heavier or how he’s feeling light headed, heart in his throat – vaguely aware that you’re calling his name.

“…ig” “…önig”

He can see you talking, but he can’t hear you very well; bouncing his leg more rapidly, he tries to say anything to tell you how he feels, but he can’t get any words out.

“..ey…hey big guy – look, I’m here, you’re alright – okay?” You try to get him to focus on you, not necessarily your words but just on you.

"Try to take a big breath, big guy – yeah, just like that – breathe in, breathe out…You're doing great König.”

Following your instructions König (tries) to take a deep breath in and out, focusing on what you smell like and your voice. König feels a little stupid, he’s gotten shot – almost killed before, but he can’t take a little doctor's visit? So yeah, it's definitely a critical hit on his ego; he’s just glad it’s you with him.

After calming down a bit König bites the inside of his cheek, diverting his eyes to the door to the far left of the room. He considers bolting out of your office – he won’t have to get patched up, and he won't have to face you, so it’s a win-win situation—

“König dear, don’t try to run out of the room,” you tell him firmly, more so for you than for him – if he decides to make a hasty exit, you conclude that you would not be able to catch the injured man.

“…Am I that obvious [Name]?”

“Yes, dear…You are pretty obvious.”

The silence in the room was deafening, not super awkward – just a bit tense.

König sighs, visibly deflating in his chair; he mutters an apology, watching your figure look in the bottom drawer of your desk. He feels like he’s back in primary school when kids would make fun of him, leaving him all embarrassed.

Well, in this situation, he feels more ashamed than embarrassed.

He continues to watch you shuffle through the drawer until you find what you were looking for – suddenly, you turn to him, smiling triumphantly, motioning for him to stick out his hand to take what you were holding.

“What is it [Name]?” König asks, reaching out for the unknown object in your hand.

Upon further examination, König realizes the object is made of solid metal and cylindrical – resembling a car transmission.

“It’s a fidget toy! I like that one personally because I like the feeling of the transmission shifting gears – but I have some other ones if you would like.”

König stares at you dumbfounded. Diverting his eyes to the small toy in his hand, he starts to mess with it.

“König, I’m going to continue patching you up, alright? Please let me know if you need anything….”

Nodding, he continues to mess with the toy in his hand, gnawing at his bottom lip to suppress a smile.

König, a man that stands at six foot ten inches, just received a fidget toy from his medic S/O – how could he not smile?

“König, I’m done cleaning the wound, but you’ll need some stitches, alright? I’ll try to make this as quick as possible.”

König continues to watch you work while shifting the fidget toy from first gear to sixth gear, grateful for the newfound distraction from the distressing environment he’s currently in. He’s also immensely thankful that you are walking him through everything you do – even though he’s not entirely listening.

“Finished! All patched up, big guy – how are you feeling?” You say, tying off the final stitch on König’s arm.

“Better – I feel better,” König says, fumbling with his words, speaking with such haste, appearing as if you caught him off guard.

“Great, I’ll write down the care instructions for your stitches, so you don’t forget – come back here in two-ish weeks to remove the stitches, alright?

Standing up, he shyly extends his hand out to you, offering to return the toy you graciously lent him.

“Oh, you can keep that big guy – you seem to like it…So you can have it.”

König stares at you dumbfounded again, shifting his gaze from you to the small toy in his hand, back to you.

“…You sure?” König asks you quietly.

“Positive.” You respond, pushing his extended hand back towards him. “I want you to have it.”

König thinks he’s going to combust.

His awfully nice, exceptionally attractive S/O just watched him break down, patched him up, and gave him a gift. He’s not sure what he has ever done to be treated with such care, but if he thinks about it any longer, he might start to cry.

Bending down, he mutters a ‘thank you’ into your neck, tightly wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“König..?” He hears you say softly, “Can we stay like this for a while..?”

Humming in approval, he pulls you closer to him, slightly swaying side to side, putting more of his weight on your body to keep you in place.

You don’t know what injuries König will acquire the next time he’s deployed, but for now, your mind is here – at this moment, with König holding you in his embrace and the steady beating of his heart proving that he’s alive and that he loves you.

[darlingshane]

Professor Castle

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.

CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]

Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.

A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.

As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.

Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.

“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.

His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.

“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”

“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”

“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”

“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”

“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”

“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”

You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.

“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”

“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”

You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.

“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”

“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.

“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”

“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”

“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”

“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”

“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”

“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”

You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.

“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.

“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.

“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.

“Why are you so convinced I will?”

You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.

“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.

“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”

“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.

His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.

As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.

One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.

“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”

You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.

“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.

“Fuck yeah.”

Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.

“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”

He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.

“Yeah.”

For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.

“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.

Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.

The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.

“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.

We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.

To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.

You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.

“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.

“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”

You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.

“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.

“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.

“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.

“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.

You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.

“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.

“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”

“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”

“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”

“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”

“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”

“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.

“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”

“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”

“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”

“Yeah, you wanna come?”

“Only if you really want me there.”

“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.