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#*note: tags shown are not the final ones*
slavhew · 1 month
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Hello!
If you're not too busy, would you mind listing some of the things you think count as death flags for Mr. Spender?
There's the obvious fact that he's the "old" mentor to group of young protagonists, but what else do you think would count?
OHH BOY ok so I'd think I'm a crackpot for this but since we're talking about Zack "Foreshadowing" Morrison. I have some thoughts
No harm in leading with the (chronologically) first thing that jumped out at me:
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This one IMMEDIATELY made me antsy whenever I came back to it after my initial read, and considering Zack has referred to it on twitter in the past as one of their favorite jokes it's definitely not been forgotten about.
Second, the sheer amounts of near-misses, jokey or not, of Spender narrowly avoiding specifically lightning
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Again, not much, but it's weird that it happened thrice, latter two of which had real gravitas rather than an one-off joke.
And third, Spender himself. He's repeatedly shown himself to be kind of a self sacrificing idiot, as well as prideful to a fault. Granted, it's both him and Mina trying to take on all the responsibility of saving Mayview and its inhabitants from their fate.. But Spender is exactly that right measure of doesn't-value-himself-enough (chest footprint aftercare or lack thereof), having an obscene amount of power (enables his loner act + pride) and poor judgement that has the capacity to put him at great risk. And it has!
Spender has not only shown low enough self-esteem to view himself as the de-facto scapegoat for the safety of the town, but also prideful enough to make very bad calls that end up in people, often himself, hurt (COUGH FORGE INCIDENT COUGH)
This is all conjecture, but it's definitely enough to make me worried about him :') Even if all this doesn't mean he'll necessarily die he's definitely getting (even more) seriously injured at some point. I love the guy but he's so far doing a horrible job of convincing me he wants to live bad enough to circumvent at least that
#not art#admin answers#paranatural#pnat#richard spender#pts-fic-notes-and-blog#before i continue on with tag ramble i just want to say tysm for leaving an ask!#none of my friends read this so ive been stewing on these thoughts for some months and i loved finally sharing them#this isn't exactly proof but the hijack possession seemingly being the final nail in the coffin for his and isabel's relationship.#idk it feels significant to me. thats one more tether to support kinda gone. someone who knows him well enough to know he's unwell#he seems not exactly content but fr incapable of not burning bridges as he is now. and considering how rashly he acts he REALLY needs those#to not do stupid shit all the god damn time with no buffer other than Lucifer. who for his measured approach to rick's hotheadedness#has honestly shown himself to be pretty lenient and kinda bad at controlling spender's more (self) destructive tendencies? so he dont count#to be clear i love spender to bits but he is dumb as rocks and has all the self preservation of a fruit fly. it needs to be said#also the lightning man... idk its WEIRD like especially on the reread its the thing that most consistently threatens him! it repeats#sure he gets chewed by a bat and banged up by forge but?? he somehow always comes back to lightning. catnine has it out for him#its something i didnt even really put together until i continued reading the flashback chapter AFTER getting this ask and went OHHHGNHF#which the only reason lightning is such a non issue is lucifer's powers. which belong to his sunglasses and not to the spirit in him#so its not like they can't be taken away he's just got a really good excuse for having those on all the time#TAGS GETTING SO LONG. ANYWAYS. i hope this is comprehensible lol
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osaemu · 4 months
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GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE
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✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW
contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.
author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)
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“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.
“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far. 
also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.
you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.
“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”
satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”
“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.
“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”
“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”
satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”
you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.
“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”
“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”
satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”
“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.
so you decide to bide your time.
“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”
“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”
“well, it worked.”
he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”
you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission. 
satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”
“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much. 
“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”
you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”
satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”
at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.
“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”
“thought you liked your girls feisty.”
“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.
“what the fuck?”
“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.
“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.
satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”
oh, fuck it.
“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?
as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”
yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.
which, for tonight, includes you.
“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.
satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”
within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact. 
“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”
“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?
“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.
“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”
“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”
although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.
and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense. 
“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.
“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”
soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”
you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?
the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.
“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.
satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.
“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.
“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.
“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.
he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.
12K notes · View notes
kentocidal · 9 months
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lucky winner
users: piercer!bakugou x afab!fem!reader x tattoo artist!kirishima
internal warnings: descriptions of needles/tattoos/piercings as they occur, long fic, wow there's plot in this!, consensual threeway, established krbk, oral (m and f!receiving), piv, spit, size kink, light dacryphilia, spitroasting, inaccurate positioning, ask to tag
internal notes: three way won the poll so i went ham. my fault og. final word count somehow came to 5.2k ish.
new notifications: @kaedescara
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you stared blankly at the notification on your phone, wide-eyed and jaw agape. you blinked slowly, rubbed a hand down your face, and then clicked your phone off and back on again. the screen lit back up to your screensaver and the single notification that sat covering it. ‘@sincitytattoojp tagged you in their story! check it out!’
you looked up from your phone to your friend, who you now realized was calling your name and snapping her fingers. “uh, hello? earth to y/n? what’s going on? did your ex message you or something?”
“i think i won something.” you mumbled, turning your phone to show your friend. she furrowed her brows together and took your phone from your hand, studying the notification before cracking a grin. 
“is this that tattoo parlor in tokyo that you keep talking about hypothetically going to?” she laughed as she punched in your passcode and opened up instagram, pressing on the icon to the parlor’s instagram story.
you were quick to snatch your phone back to watch the story yourself, raising the volume on your phone to hear it. it was a video of someone’s hand reaching into a very full fishbowl of printed instagram handles, pulling out a tiny piece of paper and unfolding it to reveal your instagram username. the caption read in big red lettering, “congrats to @[y/n] for winning the human canvas raffle. reply to this post by midnight to schedule your slot.”
you swallowed thickly and looked up at your friend. “i won the fucking raffle. i won the nine hour session.”
your friend sucked in a breath before laughing and lifting her glass to you. “godspeed, soldier.”
you looked back down at your phone and clicked back to rewatch your name be pulled from the bowl. you had entered the contest on a whim – you hadn’t expected to win. you had reposted the parlor’s picture and tagged your three closest friends to enter a bid into becoming a human canvas for a day, i.e. getting tattooed and pierced until you tapped out. the parlor owners couldn’t seem to decide on whether to call it the human canvas contest or the no mercy challenge, not that it mattered. both fit the bill to describe what you had just won.
you swiped up on the story.
you: i dont know whether to be terrified or excited.
@sincitytattoojp: both, sweetheart. sign this and get it back to us [1 attachment]
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you had gone through an extensive back and forth that night, printing and signing and scanning different waivers and papers to ensure that you would be able to handle an entire day of sitting in a chair getting poked and prodded with needles and getting art permanently printed on your skin forever. you were grateful that they took so much precaution in ensuring you were well aware of the situation you were putting yourself in, and getting ample consent confirmed ahead of time. you already felt comfortable as you stepped off the train in tokyo and started towards the shop.
sin city tattoo and body art. the small tattoo shop had garnered a massive following around the globe for the gorgeous work that consistently poured from the studio. the artists had never shown their faces on their page, but it was clearly just a two man show. sometimes one of them would film the other doing their newest piece on a client they handpicked from the waiting list, and it was clear that the two were a little more than close friends. 
you trusted their work. you were a new client, obviously, but after following their page for over a year, you knew you would be okay with going through with this. you were just… inexperienced. you had a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on your ankle and your ears double pierced in the lobes, but that was it.
you rounded the corner and saw the neon sign over the glass doors to the shop, the shutters pulled down. you took a deep breath and tried the door, mildly surprised that it opened up. a tiny bell chimed over your head as you stepped inside.
the shop was small, but it was clean. absolutely pristine. for a tattoo shop called sin city, you were expecting a bit more of a grunge theme, not exactly the creamy white walls littered with black picture frames of flash art available for purchase, a tall cabinet filled with various jewelry for fresh piercings, plants in the corners surrounding two chairs that were supposedly for a waiting area. there was a tall partition behind the front desk, and the shop stretched backward, most likely leading to a tattoo chair and then a piercing table, respectively. 
you stood awkwardly by the front door, gripping your bag in front of you. you had brought a few little snacks and some water in preparation for being there all day. you shuffled your feet as you heard footsteps coming up from the back of the shop, and suddenly you were reconsidering your outfit choice. you had tried to be helpful by going with a tight spaghetti strap tank top and a high riding skirt, knowing that you would probably need to shuffle clothes around during the course of the day.
your thoughts got clogged almost immediately when a brick wall of a man rounded the partition, scratching the back of his neck and staring down at you with big red eyes that looked curious, almost playful. he had to have been at least six-five, looming over you with broad shoulders and bulky arms that were covered in tattoos that went all the way down to his knuckles. his red hair was tied half-up half-down, the black roots at his forehead showing through.
you gaped at him like a fish out of water, face starting to feel warm as he glanced you up and down, and then smiled, revealing a wide set of sharp sharklike teeth. “aye, kats! i think she’s here!” he called over his shoulder before stepping behind the front desk. “you’re our pretty contest winner, right?”
“uh-”
“my name’s eijirou kirishima. i’m the main tattoo guy here.” he grinned at you, boyish and peppy, and it stifled your nerves somewhat as you returned the smile, but you were flustered beyond belief. you had seen the videos of him tattooing, you knew at least that his hands were big, but not the rest of him.
“ah, yeah, hi. i’m y/n. it’s nice to see your fsce for once.” you giggled nervously, and he laughed and nodded.
“yeah, we’re not all about showing who we are online. the page got too big, tokyo’s a big place, we don’t want the extra attention, yknow?” he smiled warmly at you as he bent down and shuffled through some paperwork under the desk, pulling it out and gesturing for you to come closer. “i know we already got a lot of your stuff online, but this is the last waiver. pretty much a final agreement that we get to do whatever we want to your body until you either tap out, or the clock hits six, whichever comes first.” 
you made a little squeaking noise at his phrasing, glancing at his face as he just continued to smile. he fumbled around for a pen and held it out to you, and you reached to take it, but he snatched it back and leaned across the desk. “just so you know, you can say stop at any time. we’re not forcing you to be here. if you say no to an idea, we won’t do it. stuff like that. okay?”
you blinked at him. he seemed so genuine, really making sure he was thorough in his explanations of the paperwork and of your position in this. it helped you take a deep breath and nod. “i know. i’m all good.”
“awesome. you seem like a real trooper.” he chuckled in a deep, rumbly voice, and finally held the pen back out to you. 
you took it, your soft fingers brushing over his rough skin and making you feel like your hand was alight in flames. you signed your name at the bottom of the form, dated it, and slid it back across the desk to kirishima. he just grinned at you and shoved the paper into the desk again.
“bakugou! come on, man! she’s all good!” kirishima leaned his head around the partition, and you jumped slightly when the familiar voice of kirishima’s partner sounded from the back of the shop.
“i fucking heard you the first time, i’m not fucking deaf!”
“well, just hurry up!” kirishima laughed and turned back to you. “sorry, he’s a real stickler for making sure his spot is all clean. i’m clean, but he’s a neat freak.”
“who’re you calling a neat freak, red?” a slightly shorter man stepped out from down the hallway, and again you felt your breath catch in your throat.
he was still tall, but far more intimidating in his black wife beater and jeans. he took off his mask that had been covering the lower half of his face, revealing a nose piercing and snake bites around plush lips. his fluffy blonde hair was standing up in all the right places, piercing red eyes looking your form up and down as he cracked his knuckles. his arms were littered patchwork-style, much different than kirishima’s full sleeves, and he clearly liked to hit the gym seven days a week.
you gulped and shifted your weight as bakugou’s eyes drifted over you. “name’s katsuki bakugou. you’ve already met red. didya sign the form?”
“uh, yes. all of the forms.”
“great.” his eyes locked on yours. clearly, this guy was all about professionalism and business, at least while he was on the clock. then he turned his head to kirishima. “so, where did you want to start her?”
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you found yourself laid down on your chest, head turned to the side to stare at bakugou’s back as he organized something off to the side. music was playing, but you could hardly hear it over the buzzing of the tattoo gun and the weight of kirishima’s hand on your back.
you chewed on your lip as you felt the needle trace over the skin of your lower back, occasionally lifting to get more ink, only to return and start the ministrations over again. it wasn’t an easy spot to get ink done; tramp stamps were adorable and sexy, but the skin on that part of a person’s back is notoriously thin. despite this, however, you always found the pain to be… enjoyable. 
you felt kirishima’s free hand slide over to the middle of your back, splaying out, applying some pressure to get a better angle as he leaned over you. if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you would be able to feel his warm breaths fanning out against your sensitive skin. your eyes fluttered and you did your best not to move as your neurons fired over the sheer size of his hand against your back. splayed out like that, his fingertips were on one side and the heel of his hand almost felt like it was on the other. perhaps your perception was being warped on account of the buzzing needle poking your back, but you couldn’t be entirely sure.
kirishima added more pressure even as the needle lifted away from your skin, pushing you down into the bed, making you squeak softly. bakugou’s head turned briefly to you, glinting in the white overhead lighting almost devilishly, before turning away again.
“so,” kirishima’s low voice made you flinch slightly, having been entranced by the weight of him looming over your form, “i don’t really see any ink on you. is this your first time?” you heard him chuckle into his mask as he waited for you to relax again, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down, before pressing the needle down again. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, hun.”
you felt like some kind of high schooler talking about her virginity. “it’s- it’s fine. no, it’s not my first, but it’s my first big one. i’ve got a little one on my ankle.”
“your ankle?” he repeated, still pressing the needle to your skin and definitely coloring a shape in. “who did that for you? wasn’t us.”
“right, yeah.” you giggled slightly, really trying not to move as you wiggled the foot that held the little tattoo. “just an old friend who was an apprentice somewhere else.”
“ankle’s a rough place for a first tattoo,” grumbled bakugou, finally turning towards you and sitting down in a chair a little ways away, manspreading in your peripheral. “how’d you sit for that?”
“it hurt, but i liked it.” you mumbled back honestly, glancing back when you felt kirishima put the tattoo gun down and reach with a gloved hand towards your ankle, bending your leg at the knee to study the work.
“hm. it’s real cute on you, but i would’ve done it a little different.” his thumb brushed over the tattoo, over the thin skin of your ankle, sending a spike of heat through your body. “i could touch it up later.” he guided your leg back down and brushed his hand over the back of your thigh briefly before picking his tattoo gun back up and reapplying that heavy pressure to your back again.
“yeah, okay…” you murmured breathily, feeling small underneath kirishima’s weight and the power of bakugou’s gaze where he was staring at you, at kirishima, at how kirishima’s hands left indents in your skin as he worked.
your mouth felt like it was full of cotton, your head feeling like all the blood had drained from it and gone south. you shouldn’t be thinking like this, feeling like this, not while effectively getting stabbed thousands of times per minute.
bakugou hummed as he stood up again to get within your line of sight. “you said you liked the pain, huh? you one of those weird people that gets a high off of getting ink done?”
you felt your face burst with heat, unable to move as you opened your mouth and stammered. kirishima chuckled behind his mask.
“don’t tease, kats.”
“‘m not teasin’. i was just sayin’ that i agree with her.” bakugou smirked at you before stepping around the wall to go get a water from the fridge.
kirishima’s free hand slid from your middle back to just above your ass, his thumb rubbing into the fabric of your tight skirt as he worked.
“you’re sitting really well for this, doll. ‘m proud. probably one of my favorite things to do is back tattoos. especially these.”
you hummed softly in the back of your throat, probably mumbling a thank you that just made him laugh again.
you didn’t say anything when his free hand squeezed your ass as he leaned back to get more ink in the gun.
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kirishima had spread the second skin across your pretty new tramp stamp with precision, making sure it wouldn’t wrinkle or peel away until your tattoo was healed. you were given a snack of chips and a bottle of water to recuperate while bakugou prepped his area, pulling on a mask and snapping black latex gloves over his hands. “so, how ya feelin’?”
“good,” you took a breath as you capped your water, sitting quietly on the tattoo bench and waiting to move to the piercing table. “ready to move on, i guess.”
“hope you don’t mind, but i took some photos when red was doing you.” he glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled and waved it off.
“i don’t mind at all. my friend didn’t believe me when i said i was actually gonna come.”
“that so?” bakugou cocked a brow, his mouth hidden behind the black mask. “anyway, what’re you thinking for this next bit? industrial? nose?”
“ah.” you shifted on the bench, glancing away from him as kirishima rounded the corner. “i was, uh. i was thinking i could get my… i could get my nipples pierced first? get the worst ones out of the way?”
kirishima blinked once and immediately shot a look to bakugou, who made eye contact. it was like telepathy; there was a silent exchange between them before bakugou nodded and waved for you to step over. “sure, whatever. it’s definitely not the worst pain, though.”
“really?” you stood on jelly legs and walked over to the piercing bench, sitting down in front of bakugou, who pulled a chair over to sit.
“mhm. worst i would say for a girl is the clitoral hood.”
you flushed and shook your head. “no thanks. i think i’ll stick to this for now.”
“okay.” bakugou sat back in his chair, staring at you. you stared back, tilting your head. bakugou furrowed his brows and clicked his tongue, making an ‘up’ motion with two fingers. only then did it click that you needed to take your shirt off.
you looked around as you started to tug your tank top up, looking over at kirishima, who was leaning against the wall with fascination. “ah, sorry! if you really want, i can leave.”
“no! no, it’s fine.” you shook your head, and finally got the courage to lift your tank top up and over your head. in preparation for this, you had simply forgone your bra in the morning.
you were left in just your skirt and panties, essentially. kirishima hummed low in his throat, earning him a glare from bakugou. you felt like you were on fire when bakugou reached a hand out to your shoulder. “lay back. slow.”
you shuddered under his grasp and laid back on the table, bringing your feet up and bending your knees to be a little more comfortable. your nipples pebbled and hardened from the cold air of the parlor.
bakugou studied your tits with an intense gaze, clearly focused on his job in a way that kirishima was not. where kirishima was flirty, groping and grabbing, bakugou was cold and practiced.
“so this is gonna go something like this. one of these is gonna hurt more than the other. when i tell you, you gotta breathe in, and then breathe out all at once. it’ll make the pain a little easier to handle.”
“okay.”
“i’ll be quick, but we gotta do one at a time.” he grabbed a skin safe marker and finally his hands reached for one of your tits, rubbing his thumb into the skin as he marked where the needle would enter and exit. you felt like you were shaking, being grabbed and examined in such a professional manner.
“you can’t have any fuckin’ saliva or jizz or whatever touch these till they’re fully healed, you got that?”
you squeaked, almost jumping in surprise at his words, before laughing and shaking your head. “no worries there.”
“you sure?” bakugou tilted his head, eyebrow raised, and kirishima laughed as he walked over towards the bench.
you didn’t get a chance to answer bakugou, because kirishima was by your head, offering his massive hand to you. “you can squeeze my hand so you don’t pass out.”
you looked up at him through your lashes, squirming on the bench as bakugou squeezed your tit. you didn’t answer, just reaching your hand up to hold onto kirishima’s. his hand was large, warm, and so rough. you wanted to feel his-
“alright sugar. take a deep breath in for me.”
you sucked in a breath through your teeth, and then suddenly a white hot pain shot through your body, something never experienced before. your vision whited out and you may or may not have cried out and dug your nails into kiri’s hand, gripping it tightly.
your head swam as you were encouraged to breathe, and then to breathe in again as the wide bar was slipped through the new piercing. you yelped and jerked on the table, making bakugou put his gloved hand flat between your tits to try and ground you. “relax, brat. stay fucking still. gotta get this stupid ball on.”
“aw, she’s cryin’.” kiri chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. your cheeks did feel wet as the pain subsided slowly. you whimpered as bakugou leaned away from you and reached to grab another needle package and the second bar.
“one more, drama queen. you can do it. just one more.”
“already?” you whined, shaking your head at him as he scooted his chair closer to get a better angle on your other nipple.
you did not get a chance to beg for mercy. “breathe in deep, good fuckin’ girl.”
you screamed this time. bakugou had been right, one hurt more than the other. your head felt so light all of a sudden, your vision blurring as you gripped kirishima’s hand like a vice and shook. your breath punched out of you when the bar was pushed through and the little ball at the end was screwed on.
you stared up at the ceiling and tried to get your bearings as kirishima let go of your hand to pet your hair and keep it away from your tears. “you did it, pretty girl. you got it. just breathe. did such a great job, yeah?”
you gathered your thoughts together as you listened to bakugou get up and take his gloves and his mask off, tossing them away, ever the professional. he walked back over to where you were laying and held up a mirror over you to show you your new jewelry. the sight made the pain worth it; your nipples, perky and red and hard, glittering with bars pushed through.
“what do ya think?” bakugou cocked his head at you, and you let out a deep breath.
“they look… really nice.”
“really sexy, more like.” kirishima chuckled over you as he openly ogled your chest.
you made a noise of surprise, which was immediately followed by your voice getting caught in your throat when bakugou’s free hand moved to start rubbing up and down your thigh. “you okay?”
“y-yeah.”
“you need a break?”
“i think so.”
bakugou nodded and looked to kirishima, who broke into a grin and bent over you just a little, his voice dropping an octave. “let’s take a nice long break, then, huh doll? you think you might wanna relax a bit with us? take your mind off the pain?”
“what?” you shifted to sit up on your elbows, wincing from the pain in your chest, looking between them.
kirishima laughed, “come on, doll. i know you didn’t come in here wearing just that tiny skirt for nothin’.”
“you can say no.” bakugou’s hand moved off your thigh, clearly the more level headed of the two. “we’ll take a break and come back in a half hour to keep going-“
“wait.” you flushed and put up a hand to make him shut up, glancing between them. “you’re not- together?”
“well, yeah, fucking obviously we are,” bakugou rolled his eyes at you while kiri chuckled, “but if we see a hot chick, we’re not gonna say no.”
“true.” kiri was practically purring.
they were standing over you, broad shoulders and tattooed hands and muscle, red eyes honed in on your shirtless form, and for some reason you allowed your inhibitions to fall away.
you took a deep breath and pouted. “just don’t make me get an infection on my new piercings.”
“never.” bakugou cracked his first real grin, foxlike and dirty, already moving back down towards your legs to start pushing your knees apart. you sat up a bit more, onto your hands, sucking in a breath when the bench dipped under bakugou’s added weight as he pushed your knees far apart and revealed your plain cotton panties with an obvious wet spot in the crotch, your pussy throbbing with the realization.
bakugou hummed as he slid rough fingertips down the insides of your thighs. “look at that shit, red. she’s already soaked. got this pretty pussy all needy even after pokin’ her.”
“figured as much. she was all spaced out during her tat.” kiri’s meaty hand slipped around the column of your throat, practically engulfing it in one palm as he turned your head to make you look up at him.
you gasped, and kirishima’s mouth came crashing down onto yours; he had to practically crouch to get even close to you where you were sitting. your hands flew up to his hair, body twisting slightly as bakugou started to work his fingers along your hips to further push your skirt up around them.
you felt yourself start to whimper as bakugou pushed your panties to the side and slipped two fingers through your wet folds. you shook and moaned as his fingers skillfully rubbed slow circles into your clit, making your hips jerk.
kiri laughed against your lips and squeezed his hand slightly around the column of your throat, pulling away from your mouth to look at your dazed expression. “lay back, doll.”
he guided you back to lay on the bench again, letting go of your throat only for a moment to start unbuckling his belt. “kats, i’m takin’ her mouth first, mkay?”
“hm?” bakugou glanced up from where he was licking his lips, about to press his nose to your pussy. “oh, yeah sure whatever. i’m getting a taste first.”
“someone’s got an oral fixation.”
“shut the fuck up, you red-haired loser.”
you felt yourself start to giggle at their interactions, but suddenly there were lips wrapped tightly around your cliff and a fat cock hanging over your face, drooling with pre.
you swallowed as your mouth practically started to water. your head was spinning as bakugou worked his tongue against your clit, a finger starting to push its way into your right, wet heat. you moaned and felt your eyes flutter, fingers curling into the sides of the piercing bench. “ah, i-i don’t know if i can fit-“
“shh. all you gotta do is swallow. can you try just the tip?” kiri cocked his head at you, suddenly all puppy eyes as he stroked his cock to his boyfriend eating you out.
you whimpered and nodded. how could you say no? you ground your hips against bakugou’s face as your lips parted, and kirishima pushed just the fat head of his cock past them with a low groan.
you felt full. bakugou started to push a second finger into your weeping hole, drool and your juices dripping down his chin and dotting the bench as he ate you out and found the spongy spot within you that made your back arch off the bench, knees attempting and failing to snap shut around his head. bakugou growled against your pussy, unhappy with you disturbing his meal.
you couldn’t respond what with kirishima shallowly thrusting into your mouth, working inch after inch into you. you felt his heady tip hit the back of your throat as your head hung down over the edge of the bench, and you coughed and sputtered.
“shh, careful, careful. breathe.” his hand returned to your throat, feeling the way he slipped further and further in. his balls hung down in your face as he started to effectively fuck your throat, groaning when you whined around him.
you did your best to suck his cock, slobbering and drooling down your cheeks as your eyes rolled back when bakugou removed his mouth and rubbed circles into your clit with his thumb. “she tastes fuckin’ good.”
“yeah? y’think so?”
“yeah,” bakugou breathed out, almost like an offering, and as he pulled his fingers out of your wet pussy, he shoved them directly into kirishima’s mouth.
kiri groaned loudly and sucked on bakugou’s fingers with the eagerness of a dog, gripping your throat with one hand and bakugou’s wrist in the other. he made sure bakugou’s fingers were clean before letting go and rolling his hips against your face. “shit.”
“mhm.” bakugou was panting as he hurriedly fussed with his jeans, shoving them down enough to get his cock free. it was difficult, positioning himself on the bench, but he made it work as he slapped his tip against your clit.
you cried out and gagged again on kirishima’s fat cock, gurgling pathetically while they both laughed at you.
“poor babydoll,” bakugou hissed, pressing his tip to your entrance, “she can hardly breathe, eiji.”
“she’s doin’ a good fucking job. i can feel how deep i am in her throat.”
“i can fuckin’ see that.” bakugou snapped right back before taking a deep breath and sinking so slowly into your pussy.
your walls fluttered around his cock as he sheathed himself inside you, one hand gripping your hip dangerously tight and the other reaching to grab for kirishima’s free hand. “fuck, red, she feels so fucking tight.”
“if- if you think her pussy’s tight, wait till you feel her throat.” kiri panted lowly as he grabbed his boyfriend’s hand over you.
you felt like an object, a plaything, lightheaded and so, so full, almost screaming when they both started to fuck into you at once; they were slightly off pace, both focused on their own pleasure, chasing their highs and smothering you all the while.
kirishima’s hand slid from your throat to the middle of your chest, a compressing weight that left you truly breathless as his balls practically smacked into you. you did your best to try and suck his cock, really, you did, but it was so difficult when bakugou was bullying your pussy and making you shake and cry out.
kirishima was the first to falter, his hips starting to jerk erratically as your vision blurred from tears of pleasure. “oh fuck yeah, fuck, ‘m gonna cum-“
“already? pathetic.” bakugou snapped, only egging kirishima on and making him whine as he tossed his head back and came deep in your throat, making you gag and choke.
he didn’t pull out until the thick, heady ropes of his cum were seated on your tongue, taking a step back to let his fat cock slap wetly against his thigh. it was clear, then, that his refractory period was short; he was already at half mast again as he watched bakugou fuck you into the bench, hiking one of your legs up around his waist to get deeper.
you cried out loudly, voice ragged and ruined as bakugou’s thumb returned to your clit.
“come on pretty girl, lemme feel you cum around my fuckin’ cock first. come on. i know you’re close. i can feel ya squeezin’ me in. shit, baby, fucking cum for me.”
your back arched off the table and your eyes rolled back as you came hard around his cock, your vision going white as you jerked and spasmed on the table. bakugou moaned and dropped his head forward, holding on until the last second when he could pull out and cum all over your twitching cunt, jerking himself off all the way. thick ropes of cum splattered against your skin and made you shiver, all parts of you sensitive.
kirishima, cock still out and hard again, stepped over to swipe his fingers through your pussy and get a taste of yours and bakugou’s cum, groaning deep in his throat as he pressed an almost chaste kiss to bakugou’s cheek. “you wanna fuck her throat next?”
“fuck yes i do.”
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sttoru · 3 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. zayne is quite the early bird and loves to appreciate the sight of your sleeping self next to him. he might even tease you a bit.
wc. 1.2k
note. first love and deepspace fic, kinda nervous. lmk what you think of my characterisation of zayne.
tags. zayne x female reader. fluff. just zayne being a secret softie for you. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, dear / pretty, beautiful’.
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it’s early. way too early for your body to properly function. the birds haven’t chirped yet and neither has the sun shown itself—it’s early, but zayne is up. he couldn’t fall back asleep once he had awoken and thus decided to stay up.
“hah, sleepyhead,” zayne comments through a deep sigh. he’s laying on his side, facing you. his eyes are completely focused on your appearance; from your messy bed hair to the drop of drool forming at the corner of your mouth. it’s all rather endearing.
your boyfriend reaches a scarred hand towards you, though is quick to retract it after some hesitation. he does not want to interrupt your slumber. you need your rest; especially after your hard shift as a hunter the day before.
and because you finally decided to follow his advice as your primary care physician. sleep is important for your health.
zayne’s protective instincts are begging him to embrace you—to protect you against the cold. you just look so vulnerable next to him.
though, his heart doesn’t agree. there are risks to such an action; you waking up this early and not getting your recommended seven hours of sleep is one of them. he decides not to do anything. . . for now.
zayne checks his phone to kill some time. no missed calls nor texts. it’s unusual for the surgeon to not be bombarded with calls and such, though it’s a pleasant change of pace.
his eyes dart back to your face again. no matter how many times he tries to distract himself from you, his focus always finds its way back to you. it’s like he’s subconsciously checking to see if you’re up or not.
zayne wishes to witness your face as it lights up the moment you lock eyes. to see your adorable smile that makes his heart flutter. to hold you close, cuddle with you and kiss you.
“mph,” a sudden yawn from your mouth interrupts zayne’s train of thoughts. you stretch your arms and move to lay on your back, however your eyes stay closed. you look even more adorable like that—with your hair even messier.
your lover can’t help himself like this. a slender finger reaches out to your lips, gathering the small droplet of drool at the corner. zayne’s neutral expression remains, but his eyes subtly soften once he gets to touch your skin.
“what a messy girl,” zayne mumbles to himself. he nearly makes himself chuckle, however is quick enough to bite back that short laugh. he takes his chance and subtly traces the shape of your bottom lip.
there’s no going back now that he’s touched you. his attention is now fully on you and you only.
zayne is too busy tracing your facial features to notice that you’re starting to wake up. your eyes flutter open and - to your surprise - you find your lover’s face hovering above yours.
you feel the pad of his thumb on one of your cheeks, his index and middle finger holding the other. he gently squeezes your cheeks together so that your lips form a pout. it’s secretly his favorite thing to do—makes you look silly.
“zayne?” you whisper in a groggy voice.
zayne lightly jolts in place and takes his hand away. he clears his throat awkwardly; his gaze darting back and forth between the objects in your bedroom. he purposely avoids all eye contact while maintaining a stoic expression. as if he wasn’t just caught admiring you.
“oh, you’re awake,” your lover mutters. he attempts to change topics by looking at the digital clock on your nightstand, “it’s still too early. you should go back to sleep, dear.”
you still feel flustered whenever he refers to you as ‘dear’ or any other affectionate nickname. your relationship has come so far and it warms your heart. you grin and reach your hand out to place it on zayne’s jawline.
“mm, what were you doing when i was asleep?” you ask in a teasing tone. your fingers trace his jaw gently, trailing down his neck. it makes the dark-haired man gulp lightly. there’s not much left of his self control.
zayne allows you to lead his face back to yours. the tender touch he missed so much—your warm palm meeting his cold skin—it drives him insane. he sighs, though does not admit the truth, “nothing much. just checking my schedule for the day and such.”
that gains him a playful scoff from your side. you know that’s a lie just by the memory you have of his face hovering above yours from earlier. he was admiring you. you poke the tip of his nose, “riiiight, then why were you staring at me so lovingly? touching my lips so delicately?”
you giggle as you recall that faint softness in zayne’s eyes when you caught him admiring the view of you. his fingertips treated your skin with such care. maybe you should’ve pretended to be asleep and see how things would have played out.
“ah, you see,” zayne replies in a low tone, his hand moving once more to tap at the corners of your lips. you could’ve sworn that there’s a faint grin on his face as he continues, “it’s hard to ignore the sight of you when you’re drooling all over yourself in your sleep.”
that shuts you up. you immediately try to wipe away any leftover drool from your lips. your hands work quick, but you don’t find anything to wipe off, “l-liar. i’m not drooling, thank you very much.”
zayne shakes his head with a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair. he leans in and his breath on the skin of your cheek sends shivers down your spine.
“because i got rid of it all before you woke up, sweetheart,” he mutters lowly and lets his lips graze against your cheek, “i was kind enough to help my messy little girlfriend out and save her from the embarrassment.”
you sputter an incomprehensible excuse, but fail at defending yourself from that. you know zayne is a pro at teasing when he’s in a good mood. you’re absolutely no match to him. you huff and eventually give in, “whatever.”
zayne knows he won that one. he only jokes around with you like that in hopes to seeing your adorable ‘angry’ face. that frown and pout on your face makes you look all the more pretty to him.
he sighs and spoons you—arms cradling you to his chest from behind once you turn your back to him. neither of you complain about your current position. there’s a yawn coming out of your mouth again;
“go back to sleep, i’ll be here.” zayne whispers to you and you nod.
before you close your eyes, you turn your head and stare at zayne. he gazes back down at you and that tender look in his eyes makes its appearance once more. that look which is reserved for you.
“promise me you’ll sleep too,” you mumble. your lover stays silent for a couple seconds, not knowing whether he can promise you that or not. though after seeing your little pout again, he can’t help but give in.
zayne leans in and places a reassuring kiss on your forehead, “i promise. i will.”
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tojirights · 2 months
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❛ you taste like heaven. ❜
Alastor with angel!reader omg. I imagine that reader was Alastor's wife back when they were alive, but didn't see eachother again after death because Alastor is in hell and reader is in heaven. I imagine that after Sir Pentious got redeemed, Sera sent reader (because she has experience with demons(? Ur choice) and Sera trusts her a lot) down to hell to investigate this 'hazbin hotel'.
a/n: AHHHH i almost didnt want to write smut into this because it was so precious 😭 ooc alastor again but its so CUTE. i added my "alastor speaks french" agenda to this as well lol.
buy me a coffee? 😇
tags: 18+ smut nsfw, fem! receiving oral
heaven was in shambles after the last extermination, no one knew what would happen next now that souls could be redeemed from hell. it was then that sera approached you in private, all but begging you to go be an "ambassador." you were hesistant at first, not only thinking that this was a lot of responsibility, but also that your... husband had to be down there. he wasn't a "good man" after all, but your heart still fluttered at the thought of seeing him once more. with a sigh, you accept sera's plea and prepare for your trip down to the hazbin hotel.
there to greet you, was charlie morningstar herself, bright eyed and bubbly just like you heard all about. she leads you into the foyer of the hotel before you stop dead in your tracks. charlie is still speaking a mile a minute in your ear, trying to welcome you as best she can, but you're not listening. your eyes meet alastor's, immediately recognizing him even in this new form of his. and when his smile almost fades, you know he recognizes you too.
there's another brief pause before you're running towards him, your wings unfurling on their own as you're quickly wrapped up in his embrace. the other inhabitants of the hotel watch, confused, seeing as alastor hasn't really let anyone but niffty get close enough to touch him, let alone embrace him. your wings fluff up and cover your faces as you lean up to kiss your estranged partner. "oohh, sweetheart.." he sighs against your lips. "its been..."
you smile between kisses, your heart racing in your chest. "too long." you finish his sentence, earning a chuckle from the demon. his lips kiss a trail to your ear, a low growl to his voice as he whispers to you. "you taste like heaven, darling." your cheeks go red, not quite prepared for such a comment, especially in front of company. "alastor!" you hiss, hitting his chest gently but he just pulls you closer in response.
finally, he addresses the group behind you who are all standing with their jaws hanging open. "now, if you're all done gawking, i believe my wife needs to be shown around..."
husk spits out his drink as alastor speaks, covering angel in alcohol. "your WHAT!?" you hide your face as calamity ensues, everyone trying to speak over eachother at the insane news. "your wife... is an angel?" charlie asks gently, trying to get to the bottom of this. "well, i couldn't have known for sure but she was always more a saint than i." alastor hums, running his hand down your back. you shudder when he touches your wings, to which he notes in his head for later.
"o-oh! well then! i guess you should show her around, yeah?" she smiles bashfully, still taken aback by everything happening since your arrival just a few minutes ago. you look up at alastor, your cheeks aching from smiling so wide. "i think i'd like that." you whisper to him, enjoying the way he pulls you closer to him. "hold on tight then, my love."
you're not sure what he means by that until you're slipping into the shadows with him. its an odd feeling, but you don't think much of it until you're reappearing in what you assume is his bedroom. alastor is careful with you, like he's afraid the wrong touch will burn you, but he craves the feeling of your bare skin against his hands more than he can admit. you smile, reaching your hands up to cup his face. "touch me, al. i'm not fragile..."
your words light a spark deep within him, forcing him to restrain himself from ripping your pretty clothes into tatters. he groans inwardly, large hands reaching around to pick you up before fumbling his way to the bed. "corrupting an angel wasn't on my bucket list until seeing you again, my dear." his tone, its not what you're used to hearing, but that gravelly undertone shoots straight through you. "oh please, you can't corrupt me more than you already have." alastor's lips find the sensitive skin of your neck and you feel him smirk.
"i hope that's not a challenge." he tests, tugging at the hem of your dress. you all but giggle, lifting up so alastor can free your body of clothes. "and what if is it?" you challenge, knowing full well that alastor wouldn't let your teasing continue without proper punishment. his eyes darken red, and there's a tinge of fear in your gut. because this may still be alastor, but its been quite a while, you don't know how he's changed.
but as he kisses down your stomach, you're reassured that the man you married is still there somewhere, underneath this 'radio demon' persona. "your lips tasted of heaven, mon amour, does this taste so sweet as well?" alastor's words alone are enough are enough to make you whimper, then the feeling of his hot breath against your clothed cunt makes your core pulse.
your hands naturally fall to the top of his head, feeling the softness of his ears and the rough points of his antlers. "c-can i..?" you start, timidly holding onto the horns. alastor's body shudders as he shoves his face into your thigh. "yes, ma chérie. please do." he breathes, tugging on the thin fabric of your panties until they rip in half.
alastor wants to be patient, wants to treat you like the angel you are, but he is a demon after all. and he hasn't gotten such a delicious meal in far too long. after he feels your grip tighten on his antlers, he lets loose his self control. his first taste of your sweet pussy sends him into a frenzy, eating you like a man starving. his tongue swipes up your slit before circling your clit in quick flicks. your legs are shaking already, breathy moans leaving your lips with reckless abandon.
there's a part of you that is concerned to be getting your cunt ate by a demon, but this demon was your husband, after all. sera made you come down here and you might as well enjoy yourself, right?
your hips arch up, craving more and more, and alastor is happy to oblige. "this is heaven, my dear. not some palace in the sky, but here, between your legs." your eyes well with tears, overwhelmed in more ways than one. every pass of his tongue has your release teetering on the edge while his sweet words make your heart flutter. its almost too much, and when alastor sucks on your clit, your walls burst.
"a-alastor i'm..." you mewl, every nerve on your body screaming as your orgasm rolls over you. you're almost sure you're hurting him by how hard you tug at his hair, but alastor doesn't stop. the intensity is something you've not experienced in many, many years, and the tears stream down your cheeks. alastor coaxes you through it, licking slow and soft circles around your sensitive bud until your shaking stops.
he's quick to climb up, wiping the tears from your puffy eyes. "such a good girl, mon amour. there's plenty more where that came from."
3K notes · View notes
theyluvkarolina · 2 months
Text
𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
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· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` he saved my goldfish from a burning house. trust. ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Sometimes love makes you act stupid. luckily, the f1 community has Logan’s back to help him with his crush.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Logan Sargent x Supermodel!Reader
𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ some photos are of the beautiful madison beer!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ none!
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INSTAGRAM
therealyn_ln
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therealyn_ln I’m so honored to be a part of Williams this race! Looking forward to more in the future! 🫶🩵
1,234 comments
username1 wtf bro she's stunning 😭
username2 they could have picked someone actually important but noooo they chose some model 🙄
username3 I came be the only one that saw how mesmerized Logan was looking at her...
williamsracing So happy to have you! You're welcoming anytime!
*liked by therealyn_ln!*
logansargeant happy to have you join us! come back anytime, I'll be happy to show you around Miami! 🙂
→ username4 LOGAN SHOOTING HIS SHOT??? → username5 bro sounds too proper 💀 → username6 I know he was shaking while typing that → therealyn_ln is that an offer or a promise? → logansargeant why not both?
IMESSAGES
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**correction: “IT’S HARD ENOUGH WITH HER BEING SO PRETTY, BUT HER BEING SWEET TOO? I WAS SO NERVOUS
TWITTER
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IMESSAGES
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INSTGRAM
therealyn_ln has added a new story!
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therealyn_ln
📍 miami, florida, usa
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therealyn_ln It’s fun having your personal tour guide :)
2,143 comments
username7 WHO IS THAT MAN???
username8 we lost her guys 😔😔
username9 logan and y/n collaboration????
logansargeant should have used sunscreen
→ therealy/n_ln hey, it’s not my fault the nyc weather got to me :((
TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
therealyn_ln
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therealyn_ln back to the paddock! 🏁 as logan promised, I was in fact shown around the miami track! (ps. I took his sunscreen advice!)
tagged ; logansargeant
1,783 comments
username10 they are so sweet :((
username11 pls tell me they will date
logansargeant glad you learned from the original florida man
→ therealyn_ln correction, florida BOY → logansargeant rude 🤕
logansargeant
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logansargeant Not the result we wanted.. but we will bounce back! 👊 Thank you to all the fans for the constant support!
tagged ; therealyn_ln
1,694 comments
username12 “fans” it’s just y/n lol
therealyn_ln i thought we talked about using these kinds of photos bestie logan…
→ logansargeant never call me that again… → therealyn_ln can’t make any guarentees 🙃
TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
therealyn_ln
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therealyn_ln pasta night was a flop… so we got chick-fil-a!
tagged ; logansargeant
1,853 comments
landonorris @therealyn_ln logan let Max win the season, trust 🙏🙏
→ logansargeant i did??
username13 @therealyn_ln he saved my goldfish from a burning house. trust. 🙏
username14 @therealyn_ln logan saved my family from an airplane crash, trust me fr 🙏
oscarpiastri @therealyn_ln logan gave america it’s first f1 points in 30 years, he’s that good 🙏
→ logansargeant not you too oscar pastry 😞 → oscarpiastri i take that back, you killed my koala 👎 → username15 HELLO????
therealyn_ln
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therealyn_ln guys, logan stole my heart and still hasn’t given it back 😞
tagged ; logansargeant
1,990 comments
username15 OML FINALLY A FIRST DATE
username16 OUR PRAYERS WERE ANSWERED 🙏
oscarpiastri thank god, i had enough of logan’s fan girling every day
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AUTHORS NOTE : first post ✔️ thank you sm for reading! Definitely not my best, but not bad for my first post! always hoping to improve :)
also, sorry about all the spelling mistakes! i really need to improve on them 😅
have a wonderful day lovelies 🩶
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surftrips · 3 months
Text
SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE
pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader
summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.
word count: 2.1k
author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3
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i. i think you have a type, and it's not me
Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset. 
She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance. 
Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.
The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to. 
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?
Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together. 
Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen. 
ii. mold me how you want me to be
Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet. 
Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?
At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?
Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.
Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat. 
And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.
iii. kill anyone if you ask me to 
A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.
Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. 
After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag. 
As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her. 
“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.
Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.
“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post. 
“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously. 
“Why?”
“Why…. am I sorry?”
Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy. 
When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”
“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.” 
“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything. 
“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.
“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence. 
“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse. 
“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.” 
Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—” 
At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly. 
“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself. 
“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close. 
“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it. 
“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground. 
“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke. 
“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.” 
The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down. 
“Clar, come on, I’m fine.” 
“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you. 
Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?” 
“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now. 
“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly. 
You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.” 
“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—
“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up. 
“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume. 
“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses. 
Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.” 
“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness. 
Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it. 
“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around. 
Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.
That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.
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kenjakusbraincum · 6 months
Text
Feathers
Sukuna x Reader
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Synopsis: Master Sukuna establishes a safe word with his favorite pet, to prevent hurting them again!
Word count: 0.8k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, fluff, mentions of violence, hurt/comfort, mentions and implied nsfw
Author’s note: Another in a compilation of drabbles with pet reader and Master Sukuna <3 This is basically a bunch of scenes I want to eventually incorporate into my bigger fic/series Reverence!
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There was a time when soft moments with Sukuna scared you as much as they excited you. You were so used to rough handling and bruises that as little as gentle touch would come as a surprise. It was a completely new territory with no clearly set rules. So many times you'd hold your breath or avoid moving in fear of angering him. But Sukuna warmed up to you. Little by little he would silently expand the things he'd allow you to do without consequences. It started with you being forbidden from touching him at all. Then he'd let you feel him up during your nightly encounters, snuggle up to him afterwards, sleep in his bed... All the while mumbling vague threats and giving you scary looks. "Careful with your hands.", he'd say when you'd run them from his chest to his stomach, feeling his muscles and stumbling upon his belly mouth. You pulled your hand back and opened your mouth to apologize. But he just gave you a look you couldn't read and put your hand back to his belly.
With time you've come to understand that there were some things Sukuna would never say out loud. "Keep caressing me", was one of them. "Sorry", was another. And a big one.
Sukuna was violent, it was simply in his nature. He's pushed your bounds before, he enjoyed it, but he wanted to see how far he can take things too. Naturally, slip ups happened. Hell, the first time you remember him ever being nice to you was one night when he roughed you up particularly bad. He would always leave to get dressed or refreshed, and expect you to be gone by the time he's back. But this time, you were still there, with your head in the pillow, muffling sobs.
Your heart nearly stopped when you felt the mattress dip with his weight by your side, thinking finally you have met your end. You didn't expect him to gently brush sweaty strands of hair out of your face, and look at you with brows furrowed in confusion.
"Why are you crying?", he asked, and you thought that he was mocking you. He's never shown you kindness, beyond providing you with bare necessities in life. So why would he be concerned with you now?
"H-hurts...", you say quietly, and try your best to stop sobbing. You spend so much time keeping Sukuna company at his throne. You know how quickly (and brutally) he deals with people who annoy him. You were so sure you were going to share their fate. Any second now, you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut.
"Where?", he asked. When you opened your eyes, he looked as docile as you'd ever seen him. And then his hand was in your face, and the back of his finger brushed your tears away. You blinked at him a couple times just to make sure you were processing the situation right. Then you shuffled around to touch the places that ached on your body.
And on his side, Sukuna was quite shocked to see how untrusting you were of him. For once he thought that he striked too much fear into you. Or maybe he was just under the impression, because his most obedient pet was crying. Either way, his hand followed yours, light against your sensitive skin. Careful not to cause any more pain for the night. You were stiff under his fingertips at first, still anticipating violence, but slowly relaxed as you felt the pain subside.
"There.", he says, instead of "Sorry". But he felt sorry.
The next time he brings you to his chambers, he stops you in front of the bed. "Pick a word. Any word.". You stop and think, not knowing where he's going with this.
"Feathers.", you say. Angels. His hands on your waist urge you to turn around, facing your back to him. He brushes your hair over your shoulder and kisses you, from the back of your ear trailing down. Your hand meets his and you think you'll melt into him. You've never experienced such tenderness, and to know it's coming from him...
"Only use it when you can't take it anymore. I'll stop.", he whispers against your skin. And just as you thought of how suspiciously nice he was starting to sound..."I wouldn't want to break my favorite toy".
Then he nudges you onto the bed and joins you. You don't have enough time to process the words, before he's on top of you and your focus is shifted back to him. And you don't think you've ever been so relaxed laying in bed with a monster. Later that night, when you were alone in your room, you felt butterflies at the thought of being his favorite. Even if you were nothing but a toy. Even if tomorrow when you stumble upon him in the hallway, or when he calls for you to make him company in his throne room, he'll be as distant and cold as the moon.
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bitchlessdino · 6 months
Text
take a seat (m)
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Pairing: chan x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 2.9k tags: house mates au, couch sex, spitting, thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem. receiving) Summary: Who knew your favorite seat would someone else’s lap, let alone Lee Chan of all people. author note: hi. yall don't know how hype i am to see all of dino variety appearances, not only that. i am so proud of how far he's come. i only can say this was all him. finally his merit is being shown and appreciated. this is all so amazing. what an great time to be alive.
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch
It was the dead of night, long hours past hours of dusk and you were hitting the liquid fire too carelessly. You were starting to see things not clearly and started seeing people that you wouldn’t otherwise think about look more breathtaking than the rest. Every sway, every gaze, every lock of hair. He moved with both precision and ease, so effortlessly perfect in every light that hit him.
He even had you bewitched, probably the last person that would’ve ever thought these things about him. He’s charming—no doubt about it—but young and bright wasn’t your type. Lee Chan had to be the youngest and brightest. You knew one day you’d drown that brightness until that light would turn dim. That’s what you’ve always said, now you could feel your dribble coming from both ends.
You picked up remnants from your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes not once led astray away from his body that moved like shadows. Your legs stayed clamped together, twisting and turning in your seat. ‘Maybe it was the alcohol’, you thought, but that churn in your stomach and that shiver down your spine made it undeniable. Every time his eyes went as far as lingering in your direction, you’d flicker your gaze elsewhere in fear of being caught. You were ninety-seven percent sober at this point, and that mindset hadn’t changed.
“Okay, let’s wrap it up! 2 am. Time to get going. Uber everyone!” Seungcheol rounded up all his friends, pulling his phone out of his pocket to grab a ride.
You stood off to the side, silently observing as most of your friends tried animatedly convincing Seungcheol that the night was still young. He was still in your sight, so crazy mesmerizing that it made you claw up your own thigh. Your feet tapped anxiously against the concrete, pretending to think about anything else, and soon enough an SUV with a big logo on the windshield.
“Get in, children!”
“Wait,” you stopped them in their tracks, “there’s only enough for four extra people. We have five.”
Seungcheol shrugged, “I figured we could squeeze, or have someone sit on someone else’s lap.”
“We’re five fully grown adults,” Wonwoo interjected matter-of-factly, “There’s no squeezing. Any volunteers?”
You sighed, “I guess I will, since I’m a last minute addition tonight.”
“Alright, Chan will be the sacrificial lamb.”
The rest of your friends stared back at the young man expectedly, a puzzled expression on his face. “Uh, sure. No problem with me.”
You offered him an awkward smile before mouthing ‘sorry,’ to which he nodded, giving you silent reassurance that all was okay. 
Everyone else made themselves comfortable and you made do with the painfully awkward situation, feeling Chan’s smooth and toned legs as you sat down. Like heaven underneath you,  you almost melted into the durability of his thighs, nearly audibly moaning upon contact. You shifted your weight in his lap cautiously, attempting to find a less than comfortable position with no signs of success, having you internally curse to yourself. Like you were doing to your sanity, you gripped the bar above the car door to keep still, shallow breaths escaping your lungs. You glanced back at him apologetically; (1) for practically using him like a chair, (2) for enjoying it immensely.
“Am I heavy? I am, aren't I?”
He shook his head reassuringly, kindness in his eyes. “You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”
One fast run over a speed bump and the lack of a seat belt caused a bounce against your fleshy seat. Chan instinctively found purchase around your waist, guiding you back to his lap safely as he locked his arms around you like an automatic safety net. His groan rose the hairs on your arms and the sensation of his toned chest hitting your back in his embrace made you swallow back audibly pleasure.
“Chan,” you softly moaned, sounding more sexually charged than you intended.
“Still good,” he repeated in a rasp, a subtle but noticeable flush on his cheeks. “Nothing I didn’t expect.”
Your other housemates chuckled like silent observers, keeping to themselves. The eldest passenger of all cleared his throat before making his announcement. “Sit tight, guys. We’re almost back at the sharehouse.”
No sworn word of Seungcheol could drop your elevated heart rate. Every passing minute you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were held for all those two seconds, feeling the pool of your heat dampen the thin fabric of your underwear. You avoided his eyes the rest of the trip, ignoring the burning churn in your stomach.
You couldn’t run out of that car fast enough when you reached the sharehouse lot. Your heart pumping out of your chest, you were ready to absolve all unchaste sensations to save face by locking yourself in your room for as long as you could. The others were quick to follow behind and you heard their footsteps a beat after yours up the stairs.
“Hey wait!”
Chan’s voice at the end of the hall could stop you from swinging your door for it to shut, sparing you a moment of peace. That moment didn’t last all that long before there was a knock on the other side of the door. Through the wood, you can hear the heavy panting of a man who ran too many flights of stairs too quickly to get there, you know because you were hyperventilating the same way getting away from him.
“You ran…so fast…barely caught up.”
You softly cleared your own throat, taking your time to speak through the door. “Sorry, Chan,” you croaked. “Really tired. Couldn’t wait to knock out. Maybe I can help you out with whatever you need tomorrow?”
“Oh, nothing like that. You ran away—I mean off—so quickly you dropped your wallet in the car.”
“Oh. Okay, uh.” You opened the door, viewing his relieved smile stretched across his cheeks. “Thanks, Chan.”
He handed it to you, his gentle touch slipped past yours and the sensation tensed against your skin. “No problem. Oh hey, are you coming to the event tomorrow too? Should be fun.”
You shook your head. “Oh, no. I mean tonight was great, but I’m probably just gonna recharge tomorrow.”
He nodded agreeably. “Ok. Sounds good.”
“Mmh,” you lingered at the door a moment too long, unsure of what to say next. “Well, good night, Chan.”
He politely smiled. “Good night.”
The door closed, shutting out the outside world, peace—finally—in its wake. That’s what you thought anyway.
The reality was that the following day took forever to come when you could hardly sleep, finding it in you only when the sun was an hour from rising. Most of the morning was spent in bed, listening to the rustle behind the very thin walls. 
It was still the weekend but somehow the other people you lived with managed to keep themselves busy, probably because it was that much closer to Halloween. Even leaving your room, you see the house full of festivities from fake skeletons and sticky spiderwebs. They were nice to look at but not something you found a reason to go out for. 
And for once, it looks like you aren’t alone. You weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing yet.
“You didn’t go to the party?” you plainly pointed out.
Chan shrugged from down the stairs, flaunting his Ironman tee shirt and sweatpants. “Thought it wouldn’t be as fun without you.”
“Yeah,” You smiled amused coming down the steps, “because I’m the life of the party, right?”
He chuckled, complexion somehow glossy and radiant in the darkness of the stairwell. “Those guys can be a lot and you’re chill. It’s a nice change of pace.”
The silence in the house was deafening. Had it been any other day before yesterday, this would’ve been fine—civil even—but the back of your head told you things. Things you wanted to do him from front to back, head to toe, sideways, all of the above. Chan had this vice grip on you that escape didn't even seem like an option.
“So we’re just like, the only people at the sharehouse right now?”
“That alright?”
“…sure.”
You ended up sharing the common room together, pretending as if inner demons wasn’t grinding your gears. The first thirty minutes went up in silence and silent chuckles while Halloween Town played, a healthy distance in between you both. Even if you didn’t celebrate the holiday that much, you enjoyed the movies.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much of a better time are you having than yesterday?”
You waved your hands defensively, laughing. “It’s not like that.”
He scoffed, watching you from his peripheral. “You were sitting at the bar all night just watching. You must’ve been bored.”
“I had fun, it’s just…staying home is nice sometimes. Not so suffocating.”
“Like that car ride, maybe?”
You let out quiet laughs, crossing your arms. “Ha. A little bit Kind of a bumpy ride.”
He looked for signs of any discomfort, memories of the night prior flashing in his head including the weight of your body against his. “If I startled you last night, sorry.”
“No, not at all. Your lap is actually comfortable.” The realization hit you like a bus and suddenly you had flying saucers for eyes.
He smiled at your expression, pressing it into a thin line to suppress the laughter threatening to erupt. “Really? I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I didn’t—I slipped. You kept me from flying out of my seat and out the window, you know? I just say dumb shit. Ignore it.”
“Noted, but since you said it…having you sit in my lap was an experience I didn’t think I’d enjoy as much as I did.”
You stared at him for a while, a thousand and one things running through your mind, one being the theory that he didn’t seem to hate what he was put through either.
“You can go ahead and ignore that if you want.”
Then your hand landed on his, wrapping around his digits as you lifted off the couch and in front of him. He quietly watched you turn around with your back towards his and slowly drop into his lap. You familiarized yourself with their warmth, your legs softly parted to embrace both his sides. Turning your head, you met eyes in sultry ponder, anticipating his reaction.
“Like that?” You asked, feigning innocence.
He gazed up at you in soft wonder, lightly shifting in his seat and pressing his back into the couch. “Yeah…just like that.”
You hummed contentedly, stabling yourself against furniture. Naturally, desire took a form inside you and you found yourself putting your full weight against him, causing the tension of his muscles. “It’s a lot more comfortable than yesterday actually. Maybe because I can—“you coughed before you let the words leave your lips.
“Feel me through my pants?” He finished cheekily.
You softly chuckled. “No comment.” 
He matched your smile, teeth finding the flesh of his bottom lip and biting until he tasted metal. He cursed under his breath, hands finding purchase on your hips and ingraining your shape in every wrinkle of his brain. His moans vibrated against your skin, garnering every ounce of power in him to take things slow. These were the kinds of things meant to be savored.
Your body then moved like waves, crashing into him like a brewing storm. Your legs clamped around one of his thighs, rolling your heat at the girth of his leg and admiring the sensation of it flexing underneath you. Chan let out soft grunts, quietly expelling air through his nose. You mused back at him. “You like that? That feel good?”
He only moaned in response, to which you smiled. You let your back connect with his chest, grinding down his lap as the print of his cock hugged between your cheeks. “You’re so big, Chan…”
His hands ran over your thighs, finding the hem of your shorts before his fingers delicately hovered over your clothed arousal. He felt your breath hitch and he pressed a single digit before he dragged it through your covered folds. You moaned loudly in his ear—the TV not standing a chance of drowning it out—while your breath burned his skin and pebbled his skin. You spread your legs to give him more real estate, noticing already how the fluid layered on your inner thighs.
“I can feel how wet you are,” he purred, “how do you feel about taking these off?”
You swallowed. “Yes, please…”
He helped to lay you bare, touching you as his hips dug into the plush flesh of your ass. He only grew bigger under your touch all while you grew wet under his. Body and sweat fusing into one, your chest heaved as Chan’s fingers circled around your slit, squeezing clit between two digits.
Then he stopped himself, a thought popping ingeniously in his head, and he brought his hand up to your face, “Spit in my hand.” 
You looked back at it hesitantly, seeing the film of your remnants on every single finger. Nonetheless, you did as he requested, noting the size of the splatter. His hand went down to find you again, rubbing the moisture in until you were coated all over. His fingers hooked inside and stretched your walls to split you open. He made room to plunge deeper between your molten walls at a practiced pace. You mewled like a feral animal, coming apart with your legs occasionally elevating off him in defeat.
Your legs hooked on either side of his thighs, shaking. You felt his breath on your neck, teeth grazing the skin, voice indicating his focus on your pleasure and how it came to fruition. You were transfixed on his moment, seconds away from cumming, and you weren’t afraid to let him know. “I’m gonna, Mmh, Chan, I’m gonna cum…”
“Do it,” he breathed, shuddering, “I wanna feel you cum in my hand.”
You cried when it happened, falling back against him to the point he held your thighs against your chest. He slapped the back of your thigh every time you jumped, oh well, his fingers jackhammered you into submission. You bucked around them, squirming for release and Chan’s encouragement was more than enough motivation. “Cum for me, hmm…”
Your face grew hot, your legs weak as they bounced in his grip. You clenched around his fingers, stuttering your hips as your vision of light turned into shooting stars. “Yes, yes, shit!”
Chan pulled out of you to look at their milky sheen, practically dripping liquid gold before they entered his mouth. His tongue swept over every finger, sucking them like milk from a bottle. He pushed them in knuckles deep and noticeably his eyes rolled back in his skull in response. His moans deepened into praises, licking every drop until they were nearly squeaky clean. He glazed over you in contempt, mischief on his lips before smiling sweetly as if not a dark thought in his mind, although that was far from the truth.
“Bend over for me.”
You blinked back at him in a daze. “Huh?”
He pushed you until your hands reached the ground and he buried his face between your cheeks. His tongue lapping up your climax, the hug of your flesh around his face bringing him to enlightenment. That time you screamed, screamed loud enough that if anyone were here at home they’d hear but no it was just the two of you, so you screamed louder. Your hand planted against the wood boards, buzzing, moaning as you felt the wetness from his tongue circle around your folds to then taste what was in between. 
He sounded hungry. As If he hadn’t been let out of his cage until now. His hands spread you apart, the full length of his tongue fucking you stupid until you could taste ecstasy on your own tongue.
“The prettiest fucking pussy…” he sucked out every last drop as his thumb rubbed against your swollen clit, “I’ve ever fucking seen…”
Your heart was going at a million beats a minute. You felt tied to a post flinching in and out as he rutted you with his mouth. Sweat beading your already clammy body. Drool and cum running down your thighs. You convulsed around his tongue as tears brimmed in your eyes. “Chan, ngh, too much—fuck, you’re gonna make me explode—“
“Can’t,” he said between breaths. His fingerprints stained your flesh, gripping you so hard that he could see the marks he made into your flesh as he took you in rapid and needy strokes. “So good…you taste so fucking good…”
You whined helplessly, lifting your face from the ground. “Chan—oh fuck—please...”
Having you claw at the floor it wasn’t until he made you cum again that he’d stop, feeling you pulse around his tongue. A hearty moan escaped him tasting your climax in real time, savoring the release until what’s inside of his mouth was painted a solid white.
He came up to the surface with half his face covered in your arousal like a gold medal for the clean plate club, licking away whatever remained on his lips. He pulled you back up against him, resting against the sound drumming of his chest.
You took his clean hand, locking yours through it. You kissed his cheek, briefly tasting your salty tang. He glanced back at you, a soft gentle smile on his face before connecting your lips for the first time, the familiar taste now pungent and enticing from his lips. “You felt and tasted,” he added bashfully, laughing, “incredible. I hope you’re not too tired, I’d really like to know how it feels you riding me with my cock inside you.”
“We can have that arranged.”
1K notes · View notes
miss-hyoko · 1 year
Text
Privileged One
Character(s): Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus
Summary: What if you were his childhood friend?
Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff, platonic but can be read as romantic, reader is NOT Yuu, a bit depressing for the character's part (not too serious)
Note: I initially plan to make you two a normal pair of childhood friends, but my stupid brain is acting up midway and makes it seems like he has a one-sided crush on you. I still hope you enjoy, though (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ
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1. Riddle Rosehearts
Most of the Heartslabyul students are jealous of you. You are the only person who can (accidentally) break the rules of the Queen of Hearts and then get away with only a light scolding from the Housewarden.
There had once been a student who dared to say that Riddle played favorites on you, but then the red tyrant got angry and they ended up getting collared for a whole week. The punishment actually could have lasted much longer, but you who heard the news took pity on the student and asked Riddle to release him. That student is now a living example of what can happen to people who dare to comment on how Riddle treats you. Now, almost everyone knows how important you are to Riddle.
Every time you come to visit Heartslabyul, the students there will automatically lead you to Riddle without paying attention to your reason for visiting. You find it a little amusing, the way their faces light up whenever they see you before trying to get you to Riddle as quickly as possible, it's as if they have found a savior who can save them from a calamity called Riddle Rosehearts. You can't blame them, they became like that after noticing that every time Riddle's with you, he will be a bit lenient in giving punishment to the rulebreaker because his attention is too preoccupied on you.
When an Unbirthday Party was being held, you would definitely be invited and there's a special seat that has been arranged just for you, which is right beside Riddle's own seat. There's an unwritten rule that says the first slice of cake belongs to the Housewarden. But, since the cake belonged to Riddle now and that rule wasn't exactly written down on paper, then there's no harm in letting you have the first bite, right? In his defense, Riddle claimed that he didn't break the unwritten rule. The first slice of cake was indeed his, he just let you have the first bite.
If you have trouble understanding a certain subject, fret not because you have Riddle to tutor you. Once school was over, you two would have a study session in Riddle's room. Accompanied by tea and Trey's handmade cakes, Riddle will teach you with the patience he has never shown to anyone but you. Every time you answer correctly a question he gives, Riddle will give you a spoonful of Strawberry Pie from his plate. And if you answered wrong, Riddle will explain it again from the beginning until you fully understand it. This pattern will continue to repeat until finally all the questions are answered or the strawberry pie on his plate runs out.
Amidst his busy life as Heartslabyul's Housewarden, Riddle would always try to spend more time with you. Like; accompanying you to walk to school, talking briefly with you when you two pass each other in the hallway, having lunch together in the cafeteria, and when school is over, he'll wait for you so both of you can go back together to Heartslabyul and have a private tea party.
Whenever he's feeling stressed and exhausted, somehow you always show up at the right time and give him the comfort he's looking for. The two of you would spend time together in his room, with Riddle resting his head on your thighs while your fingers trace the soft strands of his hair. Accompanied by your gentle hum, Riddle then decided to rest for a bit together with his childhood friend before continuing his work later.
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2. Leona Kingscholar
Rather than calling yourself Leona's childhood friend, you actually feel more like his personal assistant, considering how much work you have been doing for that lazy lion.
Together with Ruggie, you two were entrusted by the teachers to bring Leona back to class every time he skips class. But knowing Ruggie, he will surely let you handle it all while he himself returns to class to study (he would rather not waste his school fees, okay?). Left all alone, now start your journey, trying to find Leona. You already know where Leona is, but first you need to go to the cafeteria to buy some meat which you plan to use as an 'offering' so (hopefully) he will go back to class with you.
Every time you pick Leona up from his napping place, usually there will be two possible endings. The first one was that he will accept your 'offerings' and go back to class with you, although begrudgingly and full of complaints all the way to the class, then continue his nap in class, which makes you heave a long, weary sigh. While the other one is, he pulls you to accompany him to take a nap together, where you will be his pillow and also his partner in crime considering now you also skip the class together with him.
Even though he never shows it, Leona secretly loves watching you bustle around doing things for him. From cleaning his room, cooking for him, doing his laundry, and other menial work. Ruggie would do all that work for his money, meanwhile, you do all of that out of concern for your lazy childhood friend. It makes Leona feel as if you put him in as your priority that's more important than anything else, it makes Leona feel smug.
Every beastman in school knows better than to pick a fight with you. Never mind fighting, they shouldn't even talk rudely to you. If they dared to do so, then they should be prepared to face Leona's wrath. In Leona's mind, you who are his childhood friend are a part of him. Offending you means offending Leona as well, and Leona won't take it well.
But no matter how your patient is, sometimes you can also get annoyed with Leona's endless laziness. So, you will wake the lion up from his sleep and tell him to do his own business himself. And since it's Leona, of course he refuses and will try to go back to sleep, but you're not going to let him have that peaceful sleep until he finished all his works. The two of you then will start squabbling about it for a bit while the other Savanaclaw students will stare at you in amazement, for you're the only daring one to scold their lazy of a Housewarden. If it were anyone else, their Housewarden would probably kick that person away the moment they disturbed his sleep.
In your eyes, Leona is no different from an overgrown cat. Whenever Leona's mood gets worse, he will look for you and take you to his room to accompany him to sleep. You didn't try to cheer him up, you knew all Leona needed now was just your company, so you started telling him about your daily life and other interesting things you encountered today. And whether you realize it or not, Leona never sleeps even though his eyes are closed. He listens to all your stories in silence without missing a word. For him, your voice is far more effective in calming his nerve than sleeping.
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3. Azul Ashengrotto
In the Mostro Lounge, there is one special table that no one is allowed to sit on, no matter how much they are willing to pay for it. If someone tries to occupy it by force, then they would come face to face with one of the Leech brothers and be banned from entering Mostro Lounge again. That table was specially prepared by Azul just for you, his most beloved childhood friend. Every time you visit Mostro Lounge, Azul will drop anything he's currently doing just to greet you personally and help you order your favorite menu.
Contrary to what people think, Azul doesn't give you free food just because you're his childhood friend. You still have to pay for your meal, but Azul doesn't mind giving you a little discount. And when I say he gives you a little discount, it means he will give you several discount coupons that you can stack with other discount coupons with a maximum of 100%. But in exchange for the coupon he gave you, you have to keep this nice thing a secret from the other customers. Because truth to be told, Mostro Lounge doesn't accept stacking discounts, but since you're his childhood friend, Azul doesn't mind making a little exception for you.
At school, you were always seen together with the three infamous Octavinalle's students or at least one of them, mainly Azul. Because of that, there are rumors going around saying that you are also involved in some kind of shady business alongside the three. You aren't concerned with the rumours, but Azul does. He would send the twins to find the person who spread the rumor and teach them a lesson or two about how one should not just jump to conclusions without any real evidence. People can talk shit about him and he couldn't care less. But talk shit about you, and Azul will take it personally.
Every time Mostro Lounge wants to add a new menu, Azul will call you to be the taster. If he sees you enjoying the new menu, then that same night the menu will already be on the Mostro Lounge menu list.
Since you're Azul's childhood friend, it's not surprising that you're also good friends with the Leech brothers. Together with Jade and Floyd, you three have fun teasing Azul. But different from the Leech brothers, who will be given additional work if Azul manages to get angry, you will only end up with a long scolding from the businessman.
Even so, you still feel a little guilty for making Azul angry. You know Azul usually has a fair amount of patience, but if he gets angry, it means the jokes you three makes have gone a bit too far. Hence, you volunteered to help out at the Mostro Lounge. Azul is a little touched by your sentiments. You have always been very caring and concerned with his feelings, ever since childhood. Well, that side of you is the main reason why you're Azul's favorite person.
But as a businessman, who is Azul to turn down the chance you're giving him? Since you asked for it yourself, then he won't be lenient in giving you orders. This resulted in you ending up in the VIP room, sitting on one of the soft sofas, cookies and tea served on the table in front of you, while Azul sits at his desk and goes through his documents. Azul has indeed given you one task, which is to sit quietly and accompany him to work until the closing time.
Azul is the type of person who is full of preparation and planning. It made him feel secure, knowing that he was ready to take on anything. But if something goes wrong and out of his expectations, Azul will become very frustrated and all he wants is nothing but to crawl back into his octopus pot. It was times like these that the twins would turn Azul over to you. Their childhood experiences have taught them that once Azul entered his octopus pot, only you can persuade him to come out. You won't blatantly coax Azul out because the first time you do it, Azul actually hides deeper into his octopus pot. So to solve this problem, you're going to sit outside his octopus pot for a few moments without speaking a word, giving him alone time while still reminding Azul that you're there for him. After a long enough silence, you will start talking about random things to completely turn his attention to you and forget his frustration. For a while, you will continue to talk alone, but you keep telling stories until finally, Azul starts responding to your words one by one. Azul realizes that all the topics you choose to talk about are completely useless, but oddly enough, he doesn't mind hearing all your ramblings at all. When he is finally back to normal, he will pop himself out of his octopus pot and act as if nothing happened. But the next time you visit the Mostro Lounge, Azul will treat you to a free meal as his token of gratitude.
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4. Kalim Al-Asim
Even though you are not a servant of the Asim family like Jamil, but you still insist on taking care of Kalim because he is a sunshine boy who must be protected at all cost.
Usually, people will see you hanging out together with Kalim, with or without Jamil. You are the only person Jamil trusts to look after Kalim when he is too busy doing other things.
Kalim loves to tell you numerous things, from the big news he heard from Cater in club-meeting to the little things like how sleepy he was during Professor Trein's class. You always listen attentively to him, while occasionally giving a response as a sign that you pay attention to his story.
Kalim also likes to gift you random objects he found at shop. He said they reminded him of you, so he reflexively bought them and wanted to give them to you. Because of his habit, Jamil often scolds him and constantly tries to remind him not to buy things spontaneously. But did Kalim stop? No.
Everyone knows Kalim likes to throw parties, but when it comes to you, Kalim hopes to always throw a party for you if Jamil doesn't forbid it. Did you get a good grade on Professor Crewel's pop quiz? It's time to party! Did you get coach Vargas' praise for doing a zigzag flight? It's party time! Are you sad because your favorite novel character died? A party will make you feel better!
Look, Jamil is grateful that you often accompany Kalim so that he can focus more with another work, but can you stop agreeing to all of Kalim's requests?! What do you mean you can't say no to him?! What do you mean his twinkling eyes look so mesmerizing that you forgot to say no?! Great Sevens, please give Jamil's more patience to face your and Kalim's stupidity.
Kalim is the epitome of the sun itself, he is always optimistic and cheerful. But that doesn't mean his life is always smooth, sometimes Kalim can also feel down. If that's the case, Kalim will usually sneak out of the dorm using his magic carpet and then go to your place to invite you to join him. Flying his magic carpet and spending time with you is Kalim's best way to relieve stress.
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5. Vil Schoenheit
Initially, little Vil didn't want to be your friend because he thought you were ugly (you're not, it's just Vil's standards that's too high). But the little you have been fascinated by his ethereal beauty, so you constantly try to pester him. Being a child, you can only praise Vil's beauty with a limited vocabulary. Like how clear his eyes are, how pink his lips are, how beautiful his hairstyle is, how melodious his voice is, and other little things you like about Vil. No one has ever praised him like that, so little Vil accepted you as his friend on the condition that you have to constantly compliment him, honestly and sincerely.
And that's what you've been doing until now. But even as a grown up, you still prefer to compliment Vil's beauty with straightforward words because you think it sounds more sincere than long poetic words. Vil says it's a stupid thought, but deep down he'd rather you keep praising him like that because your simple compliments are always better to hear than empty flattery people give to him to curry his favor.
As a result of having Vil as your childhood friend, your beauty standards have been greatly affected. When other people compliment someone as handsome/pretty, you can only awkwardly nod your head, even though in your heart you are trying to find which part of that person is handsome/beautiful. They didn't even have a thousandth of the charisma that Vil had! How can people call him handsome/beautiful? Do they have a problem with their eyes? (No, it's just your standards that's been raised very high by Vil).
Every time Vil becomes a model for a brand, usually he will share the products he got with you. And if the film he's starring in is coming out soon, he will invite you to attend the film premiere together.
You are Vil's first and number one fan, while Vil is your personal stylist and makeup artist. Every outfit and makeup that you will wear must pass through Vil's strict selection. He won't force you to look perfect like him, but he will make sure you look outstanding in any style of fashion that you choose.
With other people, Vil has this Untouchable Queen aura who is difficult to approach. But with you, he's just Vil, an ordinary young man with extraordinary ambitions. When both of your schedules are free, you and Vil will meet in his room to do beauty treatments together while exchanging stories. Vil tells you about what's going on in the entertainment world, while you tell him about the stupidity that some NRC students did when Vil was away.
Vil has one big secret that he doesn't even tell you. And that secret is the fact that you are his emotional support that always cheers him up whenever he feels down. When he gets frustrated every time he gets a villain role, you always stand for the character he plays instead of the main character. When people started to leave him for Neige, you still chose him. When you have seen all the bad sides that he has always buried, you remain by his side. For Vil, you are the most beautiful thing the world has ever given him.
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6. Idia Shroud
Apart from Ortho, you are the only person who can freely enter Idia's room as you please. But before entering, please don't forget to knock on his door in the rhythmical order that you two have agreed beforehand, so he knows that it's you outside and not the normies that he constantly tries to avoid.
Just like Leona's childhood friend, you're also entrusted by the teachers to bring him to class. Together with Ortho, the two of you will spend nearly half an hour persuading Idia to attend the class. Faced with your and Ortho's pitiful faces, what else can Idia do but to man up and do the shit? At least, that's what he said to himself. When he just come out of his room, his anxiety gets the better of him and he will immediately scurried back to his room. In the end, you managed to bring Idia to class, but it's not the person himself and rather his floating tablet.
It is common knowledge among students that Ignihyde has a private Wi-Fi network with excellent signal. So, whenever you have homework to do, or you simply want to play online games, you will come to Idia's room and borrow their dorm's Wi-Fi. In exchange for giving you Wi-Fi, Idia will 'borrow' your hand to do his game's gacha. Apparently, you have this 'golden hand' that every gamer would kill for. The card with the highest rarity will come home in just one pull or the first ten pulls every time you gacha.
The limited time event just started a few minutes ago, but thanks to your 'golden hand', you immediately get the SSR event character, whose spawn rate is less than 1%, in just one pull. He will immediately jump around while squealing like a child, and then subconsciously hug you while thanking you many times. After that, he immediately posted the gacha's result online and starts being salty to other players who have to hit the pity system just to get it.
You spend more time in Idia's room than your own. His room just has everything, okay? Cool air conditioning, smooth internet network, comfortable bed, and various kinds of snacks. Every time you visit Idia's room, you will usually fall asleep in his bed listening to the sound of keyboard typing that's created when he plays his games or programming stuff that you can't really understand. Of course, Idia initially is a bit unhappy with that habit of yours since he only has one bed. But when he sees you sleeping so soundly in his bed, Idia can only sigh and decided to sleep somewhere else, maybe in his chair or just straight up lay himself on the floor. He'll be kind just for this time, the next time you fall sleep in his bed, Idia swears he will really kick you out of the bed (he lied, he still lets you hog his bed while he himself sleeps on the floor).
You may not know, but Idia is the envy of every gamer in his online circles. He often shows off Ortho and you to other gamers, saying how lucky he was to have a younger brother who is very considerate and also a childhood friend who has a 'golden hand'. How many introverts can have the same thing as he does? ALMOST NO ONE, SUCKERS!
When Idia's anxiety becomes worse and he starts being pessimistic about all aspects of life, Ortho will immediately go to you and take you to his brother. You both will find him huddled under the blanket on his bed. He asked you and Ortho to just go and leave him alone. But you two know better than to leave. So, you and Ortho will sit on the edge of his bed and start trying to coax him out, telling him about all the good things this world has. It would take a while for him to calm down, but that was better than letting him sink deeper into dejection.
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7. Malleus Draconia
Becoming a childhood friend of Malleus means accepting Lilia as your father figure. And accepting Lilia as your father figure means being prepared to be chased down by Lilia who wants to hear you call him father.
You are the first friend Malleus has ever had, so he tries very hard to maintain your friendship. Something caught your interest? Next time you meet Malleus, he'll give it to you as a present. Are you having trouble learning magic? Worry not, Malleus will help you master your magic. Are you amazed by his status as a prince? Hmm, maybe Malleus could ask his grandmother to adopt you? (His grandmother also likes you, but she can't adopt her potential grandchild-in-law just anyone)
You've once tried to stay away from him because some people say you don't deserve to be a friend of Malleus, the crown prince of the Briar Valley. As a result, Malleus's mood became so bad that it threw the palace into a turmoil. His mood finally returned to normal when the two of you were reunited again. After that incident, Malleus became quite protective of you. Someone spoke badly of you? Malleus will meet him personally to have a 'friendly' discussion. Someone wants to pick a fight with you? The next second, they all suddenly fell to the ground for no apparent reason.
You and Malleus are basically one package deal. NRC students will often see the two of you walking around the school hand in hand like two little children, you talk to him and he listens to you. Those who saw that sight dared to swear by the name of the Great Sevens, Malleus had this very rare gentle smile graced his handsome face when he's looking at you.
Malleus loves spending time with you, even if all you both do is just sit quietly under a tree listening to the sound of birds singing in the distance. When the soft breeze starts to blow, you start to get sleepy and unknowingly end up falling asleep leaning on Malleus. Seeing your peaceful sleep expression, Malleus couldn't help but gently trace your face using his finger. He just wanted to make sure that all of this was real and you're not an illusion his mind created.
Having a Malleus as your childhood friend makes you get free bodyguards. For the starters, Malleus himself is quite protective of you because of what happened in the early days of your friendship. And because Malleus is practically glued to you, his two retainers, Sebek and Silver, will also stick to you for the sake of guarding Malleus. Then, there's Lilia, who doesn't want to miss the fun, so he will always appear suddenly and join your group of four. It's kind of complicated, but at least now you have four free strong bodyguards.
Even though he looks young, Malleus has actually lived quite long. Therefore, he's quite mature despite having a seemingly teenager's body. There are only two things that can affect his mature mind, namely anything related to you and not being invited to an event, usually it's the letter one because he always makes sure nothing bad happens to you. When he starts to sulk because he wasn't invited to an event, Lilia will call you to cheer Malleus up. As soon as he saw you, Malleus was practically beaming with excitement. You don't need to bother coaxing him, just doing any activities together with him like walking in the park, eating ice cream, taking care of Roaring Drago, or trying new things is enough to make Malleus entirely forget his sadness from earlier.
3K notes · View notes
haetrack · 2 months
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HOW IT ALL GOES | MASTERLIST
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there are millions of love songs in the world. though they all speak of the same thing, they’re not all the same. love can be happy, sad, exciting, or just shown physically. love is different for everyone. there’s a song for every story, for every person who experiences love.
starring: haechan, mark, jaehyun, jaemin, and renjun!
general warnings: fluff, angst, and smut (not all fics will contain smut, so minors be aware!) fics will be tagged with their specific warnings! general yearning, heartbreak, happy and sad endings
note: the fics are not connected to each other! they can be read as stand alone fics but i hope you stay to read them all! synopses and tags might be changed during the writing process!
side note: if you would like to be tagged, please send in an ask or comment on this post!
I. (lucky for you) we’re just friends
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best friend!haechan x reader
synopsis: haechan is someone who always gets what he wants. he’s willing to do anything, but now, he realizes, he doesn’t know what to do. will you, his best friend of many years, let him step into your life where he hasn’t before? do you think about him as much as he does you? or will it all slip away, along with all his memories with you. (angst, little fluff)
side a: like a friend - pulp
side b: now playing
II. no clue
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one night stand!mark lee x reader
synopsis: when mark realizes how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid, he rushes out to a party. he’s quick to find someone, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. when he sees you laid under him, it clicks that he might just like you, a stranger. he tries looking for you all over campus, wanting to talk to you. how long will it take for you both to meet? do you even want to meet him? (smut, fluff, little angst)
side a: tongues - the frights
side b: now playing
III. your fate, my karma
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fwb!jaehyun x reader
synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you, more importantly, the friendship he has with you. he can’t help it, not with how you look at him, how you smile, how you feel. it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret. (smut, angst, little fluff)
side a: somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra
side b: flip over?
IV. can it last forever?
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boyfriend!jaemin x reader
synopsis: after many successful dates, jaemin finally asked to be your boyfriend. you were so happy in the beginning, but doubts begin to fill your head. jaemin is a loving boyfriend, but you can’t help but wonder if you deserve him. did you go into this too fast? what if this is all you have? will you be able to make him happy? (fluff, angst, suggestive)
side a: valentine - laufey
side b: flip over?
V. all to myself
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acquaintance!renjun x reader
synopsis: renjun hates how all you’ve been doing is talking about another man. usually, he wouldn’t really mind. but now, he realizes the only reason why he hates it is because he likes you. you’re a friend of a friend, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to get closer to you if all you’re thinking about someone else. (fluff, smut)
side a: eastside - daisy
side b: flip over?
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a/n: im so excited for this series HOORAY!!! i hope u guys are as excited as i am when i start releasing them :3 i also recommend listening to the songs i put!! the fics were inspired by them and lay out the overall feel i want the fics to have! enjoy reading :p
546 notes · View notes
hisui-dreamer · 3 months
Text
we are one
Characters: Trey, Ruggie, Rook, Sebek
Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?
Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions
Word count: 4.5k+
Notes: im sorry this took so long lol, but part 4 is finally here!!
Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 3✧Masterlist
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A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.
Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.
On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—
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Shizuka (靜菓) with 静 meaning "quiet, still, calm" and 菓 meaning "confectionery, sweets, pastry"
your daughter had silky green hair the colour of fresh matcha and golden yellow eyes that were reminiscent of fresh honey
you named your daughter after her father's dislike of noise and his culinary abilities that never failed to amaze the whole of Heartslabyul
she's rather a quiet child, not very loud but too quiet either
she gets along with other kids perfectly fine, and she doesn't mind sharing or taking a step back at all, always choosing to go with the flow and not get worked up over small things
honestly she's really a mature kid
also just really good at being a peacekeeper and stopping other kids from getting into big fights
buut she does have a mischievous side and may tease her friends when she's in the mood to
at home, she's pretty obedient and will listen to you, but there are moments when she sneaks around
loves helping you with cooking, and her eyes sparkle when she's baking with you
she loves sweets and desserts, but thanks to your warnings about her dental health, she does stop herself from eating too much sugar
is slightly freaked out about cavities so don't you worry, she'll never need any reminding about brushing her teeth or late night snacks
when it comes to school, she doesn't put in too much effort, but you can tell she'd be excellent if she cared more about her grades
which is clearly shown when fixates on learning magic, always so focused that you'll have to call her twice before she snaps out of her trance
you can't blame her for giving it her all though, after all, you've never seen her more excited than when you told her how amazing a person her father is, calm and soothing like a gentle summer rain
once she puts her heart to it, there's really no stopping her
so on another normal evening, as you were cooking dinner while she was studying on the kitchen counter, you found yourself enveloped by a soft light
when you open your eyes, you find yourself standing outside a charming bakery, the fragrance of roses engulfing your senses
and peering through the bakery windows, was the man you had yearned for all these years
It was just a normal day of running the bakery for Trey. With the sun on the verge of setting, he began preparations for closing, when the soft chime of the bell announced a new customer's arrival. He turned around, catching sight of you. His eyes widened in surprise, mirroring the disbelief in your own.
Before words could be exchanged, Trey rushed past the counter. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you as he pulled you close. The years melted away, and the two of you were transported back to a time when you always had each other.
"Is this real?" he wondered aloud, your hearts pounding in sync.
You nodded into his shoulder, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. He pulled back slightly, brushing away your tears as his gaze softened, a warm smile gracing his lips.
"It's been a long time," he whispered. "I missed you so much."
he's just holding you tight, crying as he thanks the heavens for being so lucky to have you in his life again
trey returned to his hometown after graduation, helping out and eventually inheriting the family bakery
he loved incorporating your favourite foods into the store's selection, adding some new desserts from your world that you taught him, and always reminiscing on those tender moments when it was just the two of you in the kitchen
he always knew you had to go home eventually, but that didn't stop him from wishing you could be his life-long partner, supporting each other through thick and thin
so he's beyond grateful and excited to know you and his daughter(?!) shared the feelings even though you were apart
he's rather surprised about said daughter, but there would be no denying how similar they looked
shizuka is a bit nervous, tugging your skirt as she stares curiously at her supposed father
but Trey very quickly makes her feel at home, his warm smiles and even warmer hugs melting away all her nervousness!
he closes the bakery for a few days to help the two of you settle down a bit
this involves reunions with friends and of course, the clover family, who welcome you and their granddaughter with open arms
the clovers are just really really glad their son finally has someone in his life and that he seems a lot more energised now
Shizuka is very quickly introduced to uncle riddle!! who is very surprised but delighted by the behaving little girl who seems to stick to him a lot
uncle deuce and ace also get along with her wonderfully!! especially when Shizuka wants to play around with riddle for a bit hahaha
don't forget uncle cater who flies instantly to meet his new adorable niece and show her off on magicam!!
the three of you settle into a nice rhythm and you help out trey at the bakery now
Trey is very very affectionate with you always, pecking you on the cheek or nuzzling into your neck any chance he can get
Shizuka loves helping out whenever she can too!! she loves learning from her papa and sometimes will just spend hours watching him work
all in all, a blissful, simple family that Trey had always dreamed of, but never would he have believed he was so blessed to have the two of you come back to him
Trey gazed at the young girl, her silky green hair catching the light in a way that seemed surreal. With a heart full of emotions, he approached her hesitantly, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"Shizuka, was it?" he spoke softly, the name lingering on his lips like a prayer. "It's so nice to meet you."
Shizuka's gaze flickered from Trey to you, seeking reassurance. With a gentle nod from you, she turned her attention back to him, her eyes studying him intently.
Trey knelt to her level, his heart racing. "I know this might be a lot to take in, but I'm your father."
She took a small step forward, cautious but curious. Trey extended his hand tentatively, offering a warm smile. Without a word, Shizuka reached out, placing her small hand in his.
A soft smile graced her lips, mirroring the warmth reflected in Trey's eyes. With a tentative but genuine embrace, Trey enveloped his daughter in his arms, tears cascading down his cheeks. Shizuka, feeling the sincerity in his embrace, wrapped her arms around him as well, a sense of belonging beginning to bloom within her.
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Kenji (賢至) with 賢 meaning "intelligence, wisdom, cleverness" and 至 meaning "to arrive at, to reach, to come to"
Kenji (賢至) with 賢 meaning "intelligence, wisdom, cleverness" and 至 meaning "to arrive at, to reach, to come to"
your son had the softest hair the colour of wheat, and blue eyes that reminded you of cloudy skies
you named your son after how clever his father was, and his endless determination to reach his goals
he's a really sweet kid, always eager to help around and even others when he notices they're in need
you've heard about the many experiences his father had when he grew up, so you've tried your hardest to make sure Kenji wouldn't have to go through them, knowing it's what your hyena would've wanted
but even then, he's never complained about not having enough, there's a subtle wisdom to him that really mirrors his father
though he differs from him in that he's always willing to share, because he knows not everyone can be so lucky
he may not be too good at haggling prices, but his puppy dog eyes work just as well!
he loves doing chores with you, always smiling and laughing that familiar laugh as he helps you sweep the floor while he tells you about his day
he loves cuddles and kisses!!! his favourite part of the day is climbing into your warm bed to wrap his arms around you, asking you for a goodnight kiss and sometimes even bedtime stories
his ears and tails are a bit of a problem, so you keep his hair a bit long to hide the ears, or just say they're fun accessories
you've told him how his father's determination to support his family and community shined through even in unfortunate circumstances, the resourceful and intelligent man he became and you fell in love with
his blue-grey eyes almost resembled a clear sky when he listened to you, asking you more and more questions about this amazing person
he'll try learning more to be like him, but his kind nature stops him from being too schemey
he's not exactly academic weapon material, but he's pretty quick at absorbing information and putting it into practice
and with lots of determination and practice, he somehow manages to manifest the very thing the two of you wanted, and before your eyes was the man who never failed to make you laugh with him
As Ruggie's eyes adjusted, your figure slowly came into focus, revealing the very person who took his heart with them. "Prefect...?" He whispered, his voice a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy.
His usually carefree expression shifted to one of disbelief, and then a bittersweet smile spread across his face as the tears welled up in his eyes. Without a second thought, he rushed towards you, sweeping you into a tight embrace.
"You're here... You're really here, right?" Ruggie mumbled, his voice choked with emotion.
You nodded furiously, comfort washing over you at his touch. "Yes, Ruggie, it's real. I'm really here."
His hand reached up to thread his fingers through your hair, cupping the back of your head. "I'm so glad... So, so glad..."
he's holding onto you as tightly as he can, so afraid that you'd disappear into the light if he let you loose for even a bit
after graduation, Ruggie followed leona to become his official attendant, what with him knowing how leona likes to get things done, and his ability to pick up etiquette cues
he's also a great information gatherer, so he's perfectly able to assist leona with his foreign affairs
it's leona's voice that finally breaks the two of you out of your trance, him rushing over to investigate that weird light
the two of you pull back and you almost wouldn't notice it, but leona's smile has softened a bit from the image you had in your memory
Ruggie never expected himself to be a father, and things are going a bit faster than he'd like, but there's no denying he's absolutely grateful to have you and your kid at his side
almost immediately the next day, he takes you back to his hometown so you and Kenji can meet grandma and the neighbourhood
grandma bucchi welcomes the two of you so warmly, she even gets a little teary eyed when she sees Kenji, with him looking so similar to the very hyena she raised
leona and Ruggie delegate a room for you in the side palace, where they also live, so you'll be able to see familiar faces often
Kenji loves following his father around, picking up his mannerisms and wanting to learn more about being more schemey
Ruggie's a bit conflicted his angel of a son wants to learn his ways but even he can't deny those puppy dog eyes
uncle leona and guard jack also love spending time with him! though one of them pretends it's annoying
leona shows him magic tricks and jack will teach him how to fight! he'll be getting great lessons all around
Kenji is very eager to learn more and explore this world, so sometimes you'll have to hold him back a bit just in case he gets hurt
but you suppose with the splendid man his father is, you don't have to worry too much
Ruggie's schedule can be a bit hectic and he pulls a lot of late nights, but he always tries to make time for his family
they're the most precious thing to him in the entire world, did you think he'd let them go that easily?
"Dad!" Kenji exclaimed, darting over to grasp at the fabric of Ruggie's pants. "You're my dad, right?"
Ruggie blinked in disbelief, shifting his gaze towards you. "Is... Is he?" he asked, hope saturating his voice.
You affirmed with a nod, and Ruggie redirected his attention to Kenji. "Yeah... I'm your dad..."
Instantly, Kenji wrapped his arms around Ruggie's legs. "Yay! I've always wanted to meet you, Dad!"
Ruggie couldn't help but marvel in awe at the bundle of joy now clinging to his legs, realizing that this spirited kid was the product of your love.
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Ayaka (斐佳) with 斐 meaning "elegance, beauty, grace" and 華 meaning "flower, splendour, brilliance" 
Ayato (斐斗) with 斐 meaning "elegance, beauty, grace" and 杜 meaning "forest, grove, woods"
maybe a part of you should have expected it, with how unpredictable your beloved hunter always has been, but you ended up having to raise twins
the two had luscious golden locks that rivalled sunlight and sharp green eyes akin to the forests in the summer
you named the two of them after their father's love for all things beauty and his love for forests and nature
the two are well-behaved children, though they can be surprisingly sneaky and mischievous
Ayaka is more outgoing and is always fascinated by the pretty things in her vicinity
while Ayato is more introverted and quiet, often silently following his younger sister and nodding along to her ramblings
he definitely appreciates beauty, but he's less vocal about it
and whereas Ayaka is more fascinated by gems and cute plushies, Ayato is more interested in nature, finding beauty in the moss, the trees and the insects
the siblings are just really really curious about the world and they love observing the little details, from catching beetles to keep as pets, to planting flowers they found on a hike
they really do reflect your hunter's wide range of appreciation
the twins love sticking to each other and they're rarely arguing
though they do fight a bit over who helped you more with chores or who you love more
they're very helpful and efficient, and though they may complain about not wanting to work because the other twin is lazing, they'll still get the job done
they love watching tv shows and dramas, often acting out scenes in the shows or in fairytales
and oh the way their eyes sparkled when you told the fascinating man their father was, a man who could control his own heartbeat, keep track of time so accurately, and with such incredible eyesight, who devoted himself to spreading joy and beauty
almost immediately they doubled their efforts in studying, wanting desperately to meet the man to learn his ways and see for themselves just how interesting he is
and just like that, the dazzling light gradually subsided, unveiling a world that you thought only existed in your dreams
you remember the villa, it's where he took you on vacation for the first, and supposedly last time
You hesitantly knocked on the weathered wooden door of the villa, the echoes of your anticipation mingling with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. As the door creaked open, memories flooded back to the first time you entered this place with the man who had captured your heart.
Rook's usual stoic expression shifted, replaced by a mix of surprise and unspoken emotions. "Mon amour... You're really here," he murmured, his voice a tender whisper that hung in the air. Without uttering a single word, he enfolded you in an embrace, as though afraid you might slip away like a fleeting dream.
"I missed you so much," you whispered back the tears flowing freely now that you've felt as you savour the warmth of his touch and the comforting scent of his cologne.
He pulled back, soft brushes of his fingers wiping your tears, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to capture the essence of the time that had passed. "I missed you too, so dearly..." he admitted as tears threatened to spill from his eyes, a rare vulnerability in his gaze.
this was the most emotion you'd seen from him, even when you said goodbye he kept a smile on his face
he's holding you so delicately, as if you were going to fade away if he applied just a bit more pressure
he's surprised by the children, but he instantly warms up to the idea!
he's remained a pursuer of beauty even after graduation, sponsoring artists while he makes a living through hunting and his film critique
he was taking a break in the family villa for old times sake, but it's almost as if the universe planned it all along
he's very affectionate with you, even more so than before, which you didn't even know was possible
always a warm hand on your waist, an occasional peck on your cheek, and every once in a while he'll feel the urge to pull you in for a hug
he tries to do everything for you so you don't even have to lift a finger, breakfast in bed, waking the children, even cooking and cleaning
he loves spending time with the twins!! teaching the two of them how to hunt and explore the forest safely
he'll show them pretty plants, and interesting fungi, all while explaining what properties they might have and whether or not they're poisonous
the twins are so fascinated by everything, their excitement and energy are seemingly endless
and who's a father to deny his children? he spoils them rotten
he also loves showing the kids a certain idol he's supported...
as well as films of vil!! occasionally talking over the movie to express how perfect a scene is or how flawless his acting is
and when the twins get to meet the vil schoenheit, they're beyond thrilled
asking questions, throwing compliments, all directed towards vil, but they're quiet the moment he tells them to shush
uncle vil loves talking to his niece and nephew, but only when they're... calm
uncle epel also loves popping by and giving the twins some apples so they'll get proper nutrition!
really, you'll have to step in to prevent your kids from being spoiled rotten
but you'll indulge Rook for a while, he's just blissfully happy with his family after all
"Are these...?" he began, his voice trailing off as he looked at the children with a mix of awe and wonder.
"Ours," you answered, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you delicately wiped away the tears that had welled up in your eyes. "Meet Ayato and Ayaka."
The hunter knelt down to their eye level, his usual face softening into a loving. "Ayato, Ayaka," he said, his voice gentle, "It's so nice to meet you. I'm your father."
The children exchanged glances before Ayaka stepped forward. "Hello father!" she exclaimed, throwing her tiny arms around him.
Ayato, the quieter one, followed suit with a nod, a shy smile on his face.
The hunter embraced them both, a warmth in his eyes that spoke volumes. "Such angels... Mon amour what a blessing you've granted me...," he sighed as he held them close.
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Atsuki (惇貴) with 惇 meaning "sincerity, loyalty" and 貴 meaning "precious, valuable, honourable" 
your son had curly hair with the softest shade of light green, and piercing golden eyes with slits that reminded you of reptiles
you named your son after the chivalrous values his father had devoted his life to
he's a rather loud and excitable child, always forgetting to control his volume when he gets too emotional
doesn't really get along with other kids, but it doesn't affect him much, he's just happy to have his mama with him
if he's done something wrong, you don't even need to yell at him really, most of the time he's already holding back tears at the thought of disappointing you
very into sports and is also really good at several sports, he's earned a couple of medals and trophies already
he's not the best at magic, and you're also not too sure how his dark fae blood affects that, but he's still pretty good at making progress
he really is just a good kid who tries hard at everything and tries to make the right decisions, but he's quick to get disappointed when things don't go his way, and suddenly you're faced with a very familiar and endearing puppy dog face
so a lot of times, you'll just have to pull him in a hug, and remind him things almost never go the way we plan, and it's okay to accept defeat and learn from it
but there's nothing he's more motivated about than learning more about his dad, who in his mind, is an honourable, talented knight straight from the fairytales who devotes his life to protecting the people important to him
so much so, that you'll find him swinging around the toy sword you got him for training
he'll also start putting even more effort into learning magic, wanting to connect to his amazing papa in a way
and then on one night, you're not sure what triggered it, but he's incredibly emotional and crying about how he can't help you and you're always taking care of him and he just wants to have his dad in his life and it's all so unfair why his mama is alone and-
he starts emitting bright light, so bright you can't keep your eyes open, but you reach to hold him in your arms
when you no longer feel the bright light, you tentatively open your eyes, only to find yourself standing in the dark, spacious throne room of Briar Valley
and standing there, right next to the throne, was your knight in shining armour
Standing next to the grand throne, was your knight in shining armour, Sebek. He, along with Silver, stood in positions of defence, but the moment his eyes met yours, the mask of composure crumbled, and he rushed toward you with an urgency that mirrored the longing that had lingered in his heart during your separation.
He enveloped you in a fierce embrace, his arms securing you but also gentle to not hurt you with his armour.
"I thought... I thought I lost you," Sebek's voice was a shaky whisper against your ear, his grip on you tightening as if trying to confirm that you were indeed real.
"I'm here, Sebek. I found my way back," you reassured him, feeling the softness of his hair against your cheek.
"I never thought I'd see you again," he admitted, his words a whispered admission of the fears he had harboured, pressing his forehead gently to yours.
he's a mess the instant he sees you, and he melts completely when you're finally in his arms
malleus and silver are also immensely happy that you're back, calling lilia to join the family reunion
Sebek's pretty overwhelmed with your presence on its own, so silver and lilia have given him a gentle push to actually function and introduce himself to Atsuki
he's grown to be less awkward with his affection, and particularly with how long you've been away, he doesn't hold back too much
his hands are always inching closer to touch you, his forehead resting on your shoulder every once in a while, it's all really endearing
but his parenting style is a bit awkward
Atsuki really admires him, but that also makes him ever so slightly afraid of him
meanwhile, Sebek is nervous because he doesn't want to do anything that ruins the image of a perfect knight for his son
so they're a bit awkward, but with you as the middle person they can get along pretty well!
they bond over training, with Sebek teaching him sword fighting (with you reminding him not to push him too hard)
Atsuki also really enjoys sparing with uncle silver, who always lets him him, but Atsuki just wants him to fight for real, so it's just silver being "this is real??"
uncle malleus taking him out for gargoyle studies (Sebek is jealous lmao)
and of course, uncle lilia who cooks extremely nutritious meals that always end with Atsuki puppy dog eying you to save him
sebek's family is also very very happy to have you two!!
grandpa baul grumbles around a lot, but he keeps note of Atsuki's favourite foods to prepare them when he visits
also comments on his sword fighting and stance when he feels like it
mom and dad also adore you guys!! mrs. zigvolt loves giving you gifts and talking about sebek when he was younger haha
all in all, sebek's so incredibly grateful you could come back to him, and though he's still awkward with his affection sometimes, he'll never stop trying his best to love the both of you
Atsuki's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his father, the mythical figure he had only heard tales of until now.
Sebek's gaze shifted from you to Atsuki, and his breath caught. His eyes softened as he knelt down to be at eye level with the child who was undeniably his son. "Hello," he said, his voice trembling with a mix of joy and uncertainty. "I... I'm your father."
Atsuki's eyes flickered with a mixture of awe and excitement. "Papa?" he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sebek nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to gently cup Atsuki's face. "Yes, little one. I'm your papa."
The room seemed to hold its breath as father and son locked eyes for the first time. Atsuki, still processing the enormity of the moment, broke into a wide, joyful smile. "Papa!" he exclaimed, launching himself into Sebek's arms.
Sebek, overwhelmed with emotion, held Atsuki close, a mix of laughter and tears escaping him. "I've missed so much, haven't I?" he murmured, his heart swelling with love for the son he never imagined to exist.
Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 3 ✧Masterlist
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jiminjamms · 3 months
Text
sex therapy :: 25. messed up
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chapter tags/warnings: naoya fucks toji's ex-wife again. aggressive sex. creampie-ing. misogynistic! naoya. hurt/comfort. naoya views women as nothing but a hole. broken marriage. heavy angst. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. manipulation undertones. corruption. 
word count: 4.1k
notes: thank you always for all the support! on to the plot for our final arc! this beginning excerpt is a rewording from a line in “spy x family” (any fans out there?) that i believe captures the dynamics in our characters as well. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo
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fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.
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❝ Every person has a self that one conceals, a side not shown to anyone else. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family. Behind lies and painted smiles, individuals shield their true natures and desires…and, in doing so, the world thus maintains its thin veneer of peace. ❞
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Who in the world was Toji Zenin?
The Toji that you had always known was Toji Fushiguro, so what was your husband’s cognomen doing besides your sex therapist’s first name on the latter's university diploma?
Even Google seemed to deny that Toji Zenin existed.
Showing results instead for ‘Toji Fushiguro.’
No, that was not what you wanted! 
One step forward in understanding this enigmatic man might as well be three steps backward because, each time you thought you had learned something about him, you only come to the realization that nothing much had been discovered at all.
But as investigations via search engines, social media sites, and Wikipedia pages proved futile, sources that could quell your curiosity dwindled.
So, you turned to your last resort.
“Who’s Toji Zenin?”
“What—”
Across from you, the raspberry macaron in Mai’s hand stopped by her lips as the girl snapped her focus from the pastry to your unanticipated question, with Maki visibly turning stiff in the adjacent chair. The three of you sat surrounding a small table in the twin’s private lounge, located in the northern wing within the Zenin residence. 
Visiting the central family property was not uncommon ever since your engagement and wedding earlier this year, but the architecture would never fail to impress you. The mansion itself resembled the Imperial Palace more than anything—an edificial centerpiece defined by the elegance and simplicity inherent in traditional Japanese design, with latticework embellishing the wooden exterior and, inside, carefully painted doors opening into tatami rooms.
Given that Mai and Maki were back in Tokyo for their summer breaks from universities abroad, the sisters established themselves as your close friends and had brought you into their tea room, adorned with European furnishings that would come off as atypical compared to the Japanese heirlooms elsewhere in the residence. On the table sat an imported tea set from England, at the center a French-inspired pastry tower prepared with caramel-topped croquembouches, chocolate-covered profiteroles, and the like. 
In great admiration, the sisters had been barraging you with inquiries about your life back in your bachelorette days, asking about your volunteering trip to the Philippines or the charity auctions in Dubai.
Now, with the shift in discussion, the sisters exchanged an uneasy look.
An entire conversation appeared to be held in the way they traded glances. The usual sparkle in their eyes faded, which must mean the girls were remarkably uncomfortable, but Mai forced a polite smile as she placed down her macaron. 
“Y/N,” she began carefully, “May we ask how you know Toji?”
Even though she tried to spin the question as casual curiosity, her apprehension could not be more obvious. 
“I don’t know him, really,” you lied. While dishonesty went against your morals, watching the twins’ shoulders fall with relief was enough to assuage the guilt. “He’s just…” My friend, to put things in the mildest terms. “He’s just a name I have heard. That’s all.”
Maki dabbed at her mouth with a lace handkerchief, not making a big deal as she added, “Toji’s a cousin.”
So, the Zenin last name on his diploma was not a coincidence at all. 
Such a groundbreaking discovery should have thrown you into a whole whirlwind but, to be frank, the realization did not come off as too surprising at all. If anything, Toji as a member of the Zenin family was the perfect explanation to why Toji seemed so astute, why he would talk like he knew more about Naoya than you, and—as Geto had once said—why Toji was ‘not where he could possibly be.’ 
While Toji’s reason for opting for the Fushiguro name remained a mystery, what you did know now was that he was indeed affiliated with the twins before you by blood, which—by extension—must mean that Toji would also be a cousin to…
…your husband. 
Wait.
An unsettling chill ran down your spine.
“Cousins, as in,” part of you didn’t want to know the answer, “distant cousins? Or…?”
“No,” the older twin interjected matter-of-factly, not knowing the full background behind your seemingly innocuous question. “First cousins.” 
Ah, so the closest type of cousins possible, which was exactly what you had hoped not to hear. With this additional information, you tried to hide the clamminess in your palms. What would be the best word to describe this void now? Did you feel disappointed? Misled? Betrayed? Toji certainly had known that you were wed to his younger cousin, yet he willingly chose to hide his background as he kissed you, touched you, and fucked you.
A reversal from your sentiments before, you currently felt both disgusted and hurt.
Why did Toji keep this information from you? What sick person derived satisfaction from having sex with his first cousin’s wife? You were so damn stupid for placing all your trust in him. Looking at the situation now, he was just another iteration of the same manipulative and disrespectful man you had been trying so hard to avoid. 
“Are you close with Toji?” 
Mai shook her head. “No. We don’t talk to him anymore.” Her comment struck as odd. Anymore? Had they once been, then? Before you could ask, her gaze darted around in caution before she leaned forward and said lowly, “For your information, Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.”
That’s quite recent. 
You understood that Mai and Maki had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped as they did not want to slander the family heir in front of his wife. Blissful ignorance was what the twins must be thinking, hoping to preserve the peace between you and your husband. However, what you had yet to reveal was the broken marriage that had been masked for everyone’s sake, disguised by a pretense that all was well.
Which was why, on that note, the timing could not have been more perfect as a tall young man with ombre hair and hazel eyes flung open the door in one unforgiving slam, rattling the fine china and startling the seated individuals inside.
“There you are, you whore!” 
Your eyes widened with shock upon seeing Naoya Zenin in the entryway, your husband’s scowl icy and malicious. He came stomping toward you as his eyes held a dangerous hostility that was impossible to ignore, and you could oddly sense an impending doom when he stormed with zero regard for anything in his path, kicking aside a potted plant and toppling over a ceramic vase.
Standing up, you tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mashed brain. 
Today was Tuesday.
Was he not supposed to be at work?
“Naoya,” you began calmly, cognizant of the onlooking sisters behind you, “this is not the right place to—”
“You’re such a fucking desperate bitch, aren’t you?” His words were sharp and bitter, his glare filled with hatred like a fire doused with gasoline. Before you could request clarification, he stopped steps away and swung his right hand up, pressing a black business card to your stunned face, the paper crinkled from his intense grip and rendering you petrified in your stance. 
No, this couldn’t be…
From your peripheral view, you watched Mai and Maki place their hands over their open mouths as they read Toji Fushiguro’s calligraphed name on the business card that also had in obvious words: 'sex therapist.' Shame racked your stomach. Merely minutes ago, you convinced the twins that Toji was to you nothing more than a name, and now, karma bit you back like a bitch. 
With your voice evaporated, you croaked.
“Where did you find that?” You had been sure that you placed the badge away.
Naoya used his anger to crumple the card and tossed the now useless paper ball to the side. “In your purse,” he gritted, “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”
The ensuing guilt suffocated you. “I—” I don’t know.
Sensing the weakness in your will, Naoya burst into a maniacal laughter that cracked through the air, creating a disconcerting symphony. He bent forward, shoulders convulsing with every diabolic and mirthful guffaw. 
“You’re so god fucking pathetic, woman. Do you have any idea who Toji Fushiguro is? That bastard is Toji Zenin, you ignorant slut—he is my cousin. Well, I guess I never told you about him, though, because he doesn’t fucking matter anymore anyway. I don’t know how you ended up crossing paths with him, but this is hilarious!” The man kept cackling and roaring like he had gone insane. “Were you two brewing shit about me? Actually, let me guess since you’d gotten hold of this business card: did you have sex with him? Did you have sex with Toji? Going around fucking your husband and then your husband’s cousin is nothing to be proud of. Tell me, did you meet the other sex therapists as well? Did you get stretched out by them, too? Whose dick did you like best? Whose? Whose? Is that what you like, being passed around and used like some sick trophy? What a fucking animal! How dare you disrespect our marriage. How dare you disrespect your own hus—”
Your hand lashed out before you could suppress the impulse and delivered one resounding slap across Naoya’s face. You watched him shut up and stumble backward, clutching his cheek. 
"Ow!"
For a moment, the world seemed frozen still: the sisters gaping in complete stupefaction, your husband staring at the ground wide-eyed, and you heaving from the incoming emotional onslaught.
”How dare you…How fucking dare you disrespect me!” The coalescence of anger, agony, and resentment—bottled up in your heart for months upon months—was now being released as you dissolved into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you say such messed up things? You are sick in the head, Naoya, you know that? Out of respect for myself, how could I possibly respect you?!” The only sound echoing in the room became your uncontrollable cries, sobs that escaped past your lips in raw and muffled bursts. Torn apart by sorrow, you could hardly breathe from how constricted your throat had become, your knees wobbling and weak. “Y-You have no idea how lonely and miserable I have been since I walked down that aisle. For the past six months, you—as my husband—have done absolutely nothing but make me feel like a rat in my own home, a mistress in my own marriage!” 
“Fantastic! Exactly what I wanted to hear, I am glad I have made your life horrible!” Naoya snarled, not caring for how everyone else’s eyes widened at the scathing statement. Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. Did your husband really just say that to your face? He could not give a shit that you wept pitifully, instead catching your shaky wrist in the tightest grasp possible as he added on, “My only regret is that I had not made your life even worse.” 
“What the fuck!” you heard Mai gasp as a gut reaction.
What the fucking fuck, indeed.
While you had been subject to Naoya’s verbal harassment during these many weeks, for him to tell you that he wished he had tortured you further was beyond heartless. The searing ache that burned your skin might as well be fatal because your respiration turned erratic like someone had trapped you inside a bubble.
Hyperventilating, you subsisted on shallow gasps.
“Don’t go around thinking that you’re any better, alright? You’re calling me pathetic for sleeping with your cousin, but have you considered that I had been placed in that position because, since the start, you’ve been cheating on your wife?” 
Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears from your lachrymose eyes. Now, Mai and Maki must truly be appalled at all these revelations. What happened to the fairy-tale marriage you had told them about? Well, that never existed to begin with, and with these thoughts in mind, you found a sadistic satisfaction in watching your lawful spouse fume with deep-seated rage. 
“That’s right,” you mused with derision, “we’ve been two sides of the same coin all along.”
Naoya clenched his hands at his sides, disgusted to have been compared to you. “Do not put me on the same level as—”
“No. No, you don't get to talk! All you have done since we have been married is for you to talk and complain and bitch about everything, but now, this is my turn,” you screamed in return. “I…I hate you!” and you pointed right at him, “In fact, I despise you. You never tried to see what I had to tolerate to stay with an asshole like yourself because you had been too busy sticking your dick into another woman while you could hardly look at me! No wonder your cousins worried about me. No wonder Toji told me to file for a divorce. Because you, Naoya Zenin, are a total piece of shit!”
His momentary pause hinted at the tiniest self-actualization that flickered within him. Perhaps he finally realized how you had been feeling now that you freely spat out all the turmoil that had been chaining your soul. He took one additional step toward you, torn between whether he should keep up with his anger or succumb to remorse for hurting you.
But, knowing this man, he—of course—opted for the former. 
“I never,” he seethed lowly, “wanted this marriage.” 
Maybe you truly have become deranged or maybe you genuinely found his statement funny, for you began to emit tearful cackles in your laughter.
“Now, that is one big fucking lie.” Since your earliest encounter, Toji had suggested that Naoya solely regarded you as nothing more than ‘a sweet, innocent fuck,’ and the longer you had stayed with your husband, the more you began to acknowledge how these accusations were all true. “We all know that you’re going to be nothing without me. A CEO who could hardly keep his wife for half a year? What a loser. What makes you believe that I wanted to be married to you? Who do you even think would want to do business with you after this? You never had respect in the real world because all that respect rests upon me.”
While you never fully understood Naoya, your words must have snapped a particular chord in him because he suddenly lunged forward.
“Fucking cunt—” 
But before he could get too close, you darted away from him. “Don’t touch me!” you shrieked, voice shrill from the top of your lungs. “Do not ever touch me again. If you want to lay your dirty hands on someone, go touch your girlfriend instead!”
That’s right, he had another woman who he doted on far more than he could appreciate you. This wedding band, this engagement ring on your left hand meant absolutely nothing. Toji had been spot on—why the hell did you cling onto stupid shit like this, twisting the jewelry as if that would save your messed-up union? Without further empathy, you slid off the two rings and hurled them toward your husband’s chest before the circlets clinked upon hitting the ground.
At first, Naoya scoffed. He watched the ludicrous scene with a comical gaze, and when his brain processed what he just saw, he quickly fell onto his knees. All at once, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle—a full-bodied cachinnation that took the room completely aback—as his hysteria mounted.
“Good, good, good!” His screeches were like those of a maniac, his chuckles haunting, throaty, and lacking in sanity. “I’m glad that you’ve come to show the witch that you have been all along! Look at yourself! No wonder no one wanted you!”
Unable to be a bystander any longer, Mai stood up and hurled toward her cousin. “Shut the hell up, Naoya!” 
But the said man was quick, using one powerful movement to punch the older twin first. “You shut the hell up, scum. Unless you want to be pummeled to the point where people will feel sorry to look in your direction.”
“Watch what you say!” and when Naoya turned to the new voice, the evil glint gleaming from his brown eyes appeared ablaze.
“Oh? Someone’s bold, too. Shall I bully you first then, Maki?” the timbre in his disdainful laugh crescendoed into unhinged amusement. “Say one more word, little girl,” he taunted, his imp-like face riddled with mockery. “C’mon. I dare you. I will throw you into the courtyard and beat your ugly face up. That’ll bring back warm memories from the good old days, huh?”
The younger twin gritted her teeth, her sister reaching for her arm as a signal to back down and stay levelheaded.
Meanwhile, once Naoya rose from the floor, he nonchalantly kicked at the rings because those emblems of your union had always been meaningless garbage anyway.
“If wanted to leave this badly, then fucking leave,” he deadpanned, his tone the calmest he had been this whole time. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.” 
Those were your husband’s last words as he walked away, leaving you sobbing and shuddering with a lost soul and sore heart. While weeping and gasping, you had to endure watching his figure fade from view, all while wanting to stop the uncomfortable distress that heightened with his departure. You were huffing, panting, trying to stop your trembling.
The second Naoya slammed the door behind him, Maki ran up to your side and embraced your shaking form, all while you bawled and clutched at yourself. Her expression remained strong, but her palms were damp as they pressed onto your back, her arms quavering slightly as she soothed your cries.
“Sh, don’t cry. My sister and I are here, okay? Mai and I will protect you. Everything will be alright.”
Despite her reassurances, she sounded nearly as broken as you appeared, especially when your hand violently trembled because nothing could save you from the agony that drowned your tattered soul. You felt the disgusting urge to throw up—you were completely broken inside. In a futile attempt, you sought to regulate your breaths with one deep inhale.
Yet, at some point, Maki peeled back and she mouthed something.
Was she talking to you? 
Why…why could you not hear her?
She sounded so muffled, as though you were underwater.
Why did everything sound so far away?
With your throat constricted, you could not breathe. Gagging. Gasping. Big, huge gulps of air, but the oxygen failed to enter your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You could not fucking breathe. 
You gripped the fabric by your chest and your other hand sought for something else to hold, but you ended up on the ground anyway. Choking. Coughing. Was something foaming at your mouth? Something warm and wet spilled from your orifices. Were you vomiting? Why were you vomiting?
Holding your body upright, Maki was the only reason that you had not remained on the floor like a fool, but even she stared at you with concern and…horror? Why did she look so scared? Was she screaming? She looked like she was screaming, but her face appeared all contorted like you were looking at her through a fish-eye lens. 
After a while, you could not even see her or her sister anymore because your vision turned spotty and then black. 
See! 
Open your eyes, and see! 
Why could you not see?
When your hearing returned to some degree, the sounds that filled your ears were frantic shouts and endless clamor.
“Call Toji! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, where is your phone?” It was Mai. Scrambling. Bags were being opened. Items being tossed. “Call Toji, now!”
A phone started to ring.
Buzzes and buzzes and more buzzes as the waiting intensified.
Then voicemail. 
Hello, this is Toji Fushiguro.  
“He is not picking up!” 
Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up the phone right now. 
“Get…”
But please leave your name and number—
“Get Megumi.” 
—and I will return your call as soon as possible.
“What about Tusmiki?”
“Tsumiki is still in London at university, idiot! Call…Call Megumi!”
“Okay. I know, I know! I’m calling him already!” someone screamed back. Was this Mai? Was this Maki? You could no longer tell, but the same person shouted, “Wait, wait. He is calling back. Toji is calling me back.”
“Then pick up the phone!”
“Toji…” one of the twins started, the cracks in her tone making her sound like she was weeping too, and her words composed your last bits of memory before the world dissolved completely. “Please…help us.”
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Even labeling Naoya Zenin as ballistic would be far too much of an understatement.
The rage, wrath, and sheer indignation that swelled in his every capillary surpassed the twenty-five years' worth of virulent rancor that he had for his fucked-up family.
Since when did you get so goddamn arrogant? Naoya wanted to hurt you, ruin you, and do everything in his power to sabotage you. 
Not just you, though. Because that would be too easy.
But also his father, his cousins, his ex-coworkers, and—most importantly—Toji. 
Such ill feelings were what led the Zenin CEO to practically leap into the Mercedes-Benz that awaited him at the entrance to his family home, and he immediately ordered his chauffeur to press on the pedal toward a very certain condominium several kilometers away.
Fifteen minutes later, a very surprised Mari opened her door and an enraged Naoya greeted her, shoving her against the wall and colliding his lips into hers for a fierce kiss. His actions lacked passion, only charged with aggression as he stripped her and threw her onto the living room sofa. He could hardly care that he treated the woman as though she was nothing more than a prostitute, while the latter mistook her boyfriend’s rage for desperation, and she begged for him to pull at her hair and force his tongue down her mouth. 
At some point, Naoya drove his mistress’s face into the couch cushion and dragged her hips to have her ass raised high. He was too clouded by fury and too blinded by anger to think twice before he forcefully penetrated the woman. He fucked her raw and held her close, jostling her body as though she was a ragdoll, eliciting her loudest mewls that cried for his name. 
“J-Just like that!” she whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pummeled into her dripping hole, paying no mercy for destroying her with his ruthless pace. Her knees gave out from under her, and she crumbled from the sofa and into the carpet, only for him to tumble too to follow the socket he needed to keep his dick soaked. 
“I need to break you,” he hissed.
Fuck, he was going to come soon. 
His nails left crescent marks on her flesh, his hands burning her scalp as he tugged her strands and met her buttocks with hard thrusts, and he knew he was going to come. 
Feeling the first of his seed trick into his mistress’s life-giving cavern, he toyed with the idea of giving Tsumiki and Megumi a baby sibling. That would be fun. He could then imagine the subsequent mortified reactions from his deplorable cousin and from his wretched wife (whom he would hardly call himself married to anymore, anyway). The fantasies, everything that he would do to spite those who had wronged him, had Naoya cackling as his viscous cum spurted from his tip and deep into his mistress’s womb.
He pulled out once he made sure that every single drop had been milked from him, his ejaculate dribbling from her pussy like someone had taken a bite from a cream-filled donut.
Rolling into the carpet and onto her back, a panting Mari took two fingers and pressed his precious seed back into her cunt. “That was so hot.” A lazy smile pulled across her face. “Thank you for the unexpected visit.”
Naoya completely dismissed her comments as he tucked himself back into his pants, not in the right mood to respond. 
“Cool. Clean this mess up,” he demanded instead, “I’m leaving for work.” 
He ignored the woman’s ensuing pleas to stay at least five minutes longer. Unlike her, he had better things to do, and he rushed out as he fetched his phone from his back pocket and surveyed for any messages he might have missed while he had been away. 
But when he turned on his screen, his most recent notification had his blood turn cold.
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last chapter || next chapter
end notes: The absolute fury in the argument, the complete panic between the twins, and the maniacal temperament in our husband…so much packed in this chapter! If you can’t tell already, my favorite POV to write from is Naoya’s, ha. Also, I took some creative liberty here to convey the intense emotions, so let me know what you think! Hugs to all.
taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network
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beforeimdeceased · 5 months
Note
I’m actually in LOVE with crybaby!!! It’s so good😫😫😫
CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT8, FINAL PART!
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pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.
synopsis: you weren’t you anymore.
a/n: it’s so over…thank you all for the love you’ve shown crybaby! i’m happy to say i’m actually proud of something i’ve written, for the first time in a long time. thank you for reading and for all your comments and support! tags: @skylerwhitwyo
you’re a crisis of my faith
masterlist.
you weren’t you anymore. you weren’t you when abby opened the door to find you and ellie tangled together in an illicit affair. you weren’t you when you looked into her eyes, saw the pain and agony, and asked her if she didn’t mind closing the door. that you were busy doing something.
you weren’t you because you didn’t chase after her when she left. because you didn’t apologize, you just went on as you were. forgetting. you went on forgetting all the way home in her car. melting the pain away, filling the silence with meaningless conversation she was too upset to engage in. knuckles white while she gripped the steering wheel.
you’re not yourself.
at first it was fun to let go with ellie. she liked that you didn’t care anymore. that you could joke around with each other. that she didn’t have to walk on eggshells with you. or atleast, that’s how she felt. until she was missing you on tour one night.
alone in a bar, waiting for dina and jesse, she came across someone that looked as doe eyed as you used to be. her heart started to sink when she skipped over.
another bar, years ago. when you’d caught her after another show in which she’d made a mistake. you came to her with flowers from a fan and a note. “hey ellie this is—“
“fuck i’m such a fucking idiot.” she blurts. you sigh, anticipating a string of curses and insults, but she sees the note and the flowers. “what’s this?”
“it’s a note from a fan, she didn’t get to catch you before you ran off.”
she holds her hand out and you place the piece of paper in it. standing as you hold the flowers. watching her read it.
this is the first concert i’ve been to in a while and i just want to say thank you so much. i struggle a lot with social anxiety and big crowds and stuff but i really wanted to see you. i’ve been a fan since i found your guy’s cover of take on me on soundcloud and it struck a deep chord within me. you’re amazing, you know that, but i just wanted to tell you that. just in case you forget.
— your biggest fan
you hand her the flowers, pretending not to see her tears. pretending not to feel teary eyed yourself. because you’d never seen her sad cry. you’ve seen her angry cry plenty of times, but never fix her face into a frown and let the strains of tears overflow. you look away as sadness fills the space between you.
“you’re ellie williams right?” the doe eyed girl brings her back to the present. she nods. “in the flesh.”
it only took a couple drinks and ellie’s charms to lure her away from the crowded area. nestled in the corner of the bar, ellie latching her mouth onto the girls neck. imagining your body in place of hers. pretending her moans were yours. wishing that she was you.
she’d felt dirty after she finished, a feeling that was entirely new to her. you both weren’t obligated to only be with each other after that night in the bathroom, but she couldn’t get you out of her mind. maybe it was because the girl reminded her of you? then she remembered that you weren’t like that anymore. that you had completely changed.
when tour ended and the group returned home, you took it upon yourself to throw a party. the old you would have gone for a small get together at your house, with the three of them and donuts, but the new you was leaning towards some club soirée.
you were excited to show everyone more of the new you. a new style to match your new personality. a new way of living to replace your old one. completely killing the girl you’d been before.
you met them at dina and jesse’s place, ensuring you’d be there the second they got off the tour bus. excitedly rushing over to give them a hug, and ellie an awkward handshake. they look you up and down, taking in your changed appearance with concern. “new clothes?” jesse speaks up.
“new me.” you shrug, helping them carry their bags up.
when everything is settled in, they all grab a seat on the couch. you slump into their loveseat, sighing. “so there’s this party...”
dina shakes her head. “no no absolutely not. i love you, but god we’re exhausted. no party tonight.”
“it’s tomorrow. it’s your welcome back party.” the corner of your mouth twitches. “i want to sleep for atleast a week.” dina huffs. “i need to go shower right now actually.” she gets up, placing a kiss on your forehead when she passes by. jesse does the same, following behind her.
you don’t take offense to it. this might’ve hurt you a little bit in the past, feeling stupid for planning a party when it’d make sense that they want to rest. now, you didn’t care. you could party by yourself. you could party with ellie.
you look over at her, and she looks like a wounded stray. like she’s guilty of something she didn’t do. you get up and join her in place of the lovebirds. a wide smile on your face. “are you gonna come to the party?”
she breathes. “maybe. i don’t know yet.”
it’s silent for a beat. you pull out your phone and she remembers the day she took it. the agony in your voice when you were asking for it back. the day she made you cry. she shakes away the thought.
“how about we play a game?”
the peace you were experiencing in the moment felt foreign. it’s been years since you had a chance to have quality time with ellie. without her ruining it, ofcourse. it was almost like those first few weeks back when you met. playing all the board games lodged in the bookshelf of jesse’s parent’s place. before him and dina had moved in together.
these were those very same games. monopoly, sorry, connect four, and more. you settled on connect floor, crisscrossing your legs on the floor. she joins you, getting comfortable.
“i’ll keep score!” you offer, going to your phone’s notes. before you can do much about it, you realize that it’s shutting off because the battery is low. you lodge it into your back pocket and shrug, grabbing an empty envelope off of the couples counter. “my phones dead, i’ll just write it.”
then you’re making a t chart, and ellie feels as if all the air is being kicked out of her lungs. your handwriting is the same as the one that was on that letter.
but that can’t be true, right? this is the same fan who’s been writing her for years. this is handwriting that’s been on signs held up at shows. the handwriting on a small cluster of loyal groupie’s handmade tshirts.
but surely she’d have noticed this before. you’d written in front of her before, right? memories were fuzzily being put back together in the moment. your unfiltered and unconditional love for her. your kindness that you’d extended even when she was mean to you. even when she was cruel.
even when you’d had enough of the tear filled nights and decided you needed time away. you still asked how ellie was, she could hear it on the other side of the fucking phone. when you were talking to dina and jesse. when you were communicating love through them to her.
you called all those rehab centers to get her help, that’s how jesse had found one so fast. you left her meds on the table for her the next morning, not dina. it was your voice telling her she’d had enough. it was you, being brave enough to take her verbal lashings because you knew if she didn’t take it out on you, she would take it out on herself.
it was you, it was always you. she was remembering now.
“ellie?”
you look away from the paper to find her crying. crying because the you that was always there, had slipped between her nimble fingers. had melted into the cracks of hatred. she was crying because she realized why she was feeling out of sorts. she hadn’t gotten a letter this week.
a letter from—well, you.
she wanted to yell at you. to scream at you. to call you stupid for staying around when you know how she is. she wanted to curse herself for getting you to let your guard down with a fake apology, and fucking it up all over again. for pushing you past your breaking point.
“i don’t wanna play anymore.” she felt disgusting. she felt like she was going to be sick. “ellie what’s the matter—“
she’s hyperventilating now, watching as you slowly slide towards her. extending your arms while you try to catch her in a hug. she thought back to the days she called you useless. called you pathetic. called you a crybaby.
you hold her, and it’s the first time she’s ever truly felt held. the first time she’s in your arms and she’s sober. the first time she’s in your arms and she feels sorry. truly, terribly sorry.
you pull her in closer to you, turning her onto her side so you can rub your thumb across her cheek. wiping some of her tears away. she begins to cry even harder, but you don’t push her away. even when your pants are soaked and snotty. you let her lay there, and cry into you.
479 notes · View notes
timdoubleyou · 5 months
Text
i found jay’s black jacket (an ID guide)
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This black jacket is worn by Jay about 9 times throughout Marble Hornets, including his final appearance. And after some weeks of on-and-off research, I think I know the exact make and model.
This post will detail exactly how I found it, and serve as a guide for anyone that wants to find the jacket, whether that's for cosplay purposes, or if you're just keen on collecting items related to MH.
Main post under the cut
Intro
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The first step to identifying the jacket was to gather as many references as possible.
I went back to the web series and took screenshots from any entries the jacket makes an appearance. (shoutout to mg549′s very comprehensive MH wardrobe guide, without it this would’ve been much more of a pain)
Jay's jacket is, for the most part, very plain. It's a solid color, full-zip jacket, without any particularly eye-catching logos or other details. I had to look for moments where even the slightest distinction appeared clear on camera, at least as distinct as it can be. Even if it was just close-ups to get the shape of a zipper, or how many buttons are on a sleeve, it was the best I got. While I did manage to find a decent amount of these, there was just one crucial detail that would've made finding it near-impossible; the brand is never shown. Thankfully, I had another resource.
In 2018 Troy Sold a Lot of Stuff
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In early 2018, Troy officially announced that MH would be continued in a comic series. To fund the first issue, he held a number of auctions for production items used during the web series on Ebay.
These included items such as Jay’s camera, Brian’s hoodie, A Masky mask, and Jay’s black jacket.
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Lo and behold, the jacket listing includes a picture with the brand in clear view. It's from Gap.
Ebay does not archive sold listings older than 90 days. However, Worthpoint, a website for valuing and pricing collectibles, does. Using Worthpoint I was able to find all of these items, (and a lot more, which can be found in this doc I submitted to Archive Hornets)
Identification
With the picture from the listing and the series screencaps, I had a complete ID list.
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(Top image is from the Ebay listing, with the contrast adjusted a little for easier viewing. The bottom two images are from Entry #79)
The Gap logo (This specific logo dates the jacket being made anywhere between 1986 and 2009, when it first appears).
Front Zipper (Note the shape)
The two front pockets
The two buttons and pointed cuffs on each sleeve (Second one is a little hard to see but it's jusstt peeping out at the side)
The blue piping in the inner lining
The zipper in the right side inner lining
The gray mesh inner lining
With these in mind, I could now go to the next and longest step-
Finding the Jacket
I combed three resell sites; Ebay, Depop, and Poshmark. My main goal wasn't to actually purchase the jacket, (although, I would like to at some point) but to find a jacket listing that had every identifier, and have a more definite baseline for finding others. I needed to be sure what I had was enough to properly ID the jacket. The references I had stitched together were decent enough, but I wanted to see if there was something better out there.
After tons of page scrolling and tab-switching and comparing and contrasting, I finally got lucky.
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(first two images are from crashthecloset's listing on poshmark, last six are from shannfo-76 on ebay)
I haven't bought one myself as of posting, but I feel pretty confident this is it. The jackets were already sold, but every marker seemed to be accounted for. It also revealed new ones, like the reflective pattern and pockets on the inner lining, (zipper on the right side pocket, button on the left pocket) and the materials tag.
With that, here's some final notes that may be helpful if you try looking for the jacket yourself:
Online sellers often describe it as a light jacket, a windbreaker, a 2-in-1, or 3-in-1.
"Gap Mens Black Jacket" is the search phrase I used the most since it yielded a (very) broad result pool.
Most of the jackets I found came from Poshmark or Ebay.
The exact size of Jay’s jacket is unclear. My best guesses are either a US Men’s S or M, since Jay was pretty skinny and of average height. I’ve only been able to find maybe 2 jackets that are a size M, one of which is the first pic in the photoset above.
Gap has sold other black jackets that look remarkably similar to Jay’s, and they do pop up on resell sites. One of these was so similar, the only discernible difference was the style of the logo. I highly recommend making sure it matches the exact one Jay had before purchasing. (It's also more than fine to ask/msg me if you have any doubts!) As long as you know what to look for, you shouldn’t have a problem finding at least one.
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One detail that confounded me was this sleeve poking out of Jay's jacket. At first I thought he was wearing a long sleeve underneath, making this shot a continuity error since he appeared to Only be wearing the green short sleeve under the jacket.
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@hivemite pointed out that this might be a two-in-one jacket, which has multiple layers for different types of weather. While I have not been able to see the sleeve outside of two shots in entry #79 and #80, one listing I found did describe it as a 3-in-1.
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that's about it! hope this helps :)
423 notes · View notes
tripleyeeet · 6 months
Text
WEAVED TOGETHER (SAY IT'S FOREVER)
SUMMARY: After faking your death years ago, Astarion finally finds you in Waterdeep.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 5,128
WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, fingering, orgasm denial, sex used as a manipulation tactic, biting, blood sucking, descriptions of past/current abuse, Ascendent Astarion (feel like I need to tag this just in case), a whole lot of angst.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic gave me so much grief. I really hope my labour translates into something good because man, if it doesn't I might fucking cry. :') Also, fic title is inspired this bop!
MASTERLIST
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You’ve never been particularly keen on parties. Favouring quite possibly anything above the stuffy insides of a ballroom packed with people, it’s a miracle that you haven’t already left Gale’s side for some air. To take even the shortest of moments to allow yourself some alone time. 
Feeling the fabric of your dress uncomfortably stick to your skin, you can’t help but squirm at the thought of having to stay any later. Considering you’ve been here for a good few hours already, you’re tempted to ask Gale if maybe now’s the time to part ways.
At this point you’ve been well and truly shown off to the entire party, gawked at by countless of his old academic friends, so surely he wouldn’t mind if you up and left now, right?
Before you can think to ask, he’s already wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a friendly kiss to the cheek. “I really do appreciate you coming,” he tells you, drunkenly swaying as he speaks, letting out a chuckle as you hold him steady. “I would’ve been terribly embarrassed to show up at such a renowned event without a date.” 
“So you’ve mentioned.” You shoot him a smug look, watching him roll his eyes and take a sip of wine, debating whether or not to take the glass from him, knowing just how much he’s had.
“I mean it, you’ve been nothing short of wonderful to me in my time of need, so thank you.”
Despite the urge to play down his thanks, to remind him of all the things he’s done for you as of late, you merely take it, offering him a quick you’re welcome in return, knowing just how persistent a drunken Gale can get. How the man hardly pauses to breathe in the midst of a conversation —his endless string of words seeming to lose you almost instantly every time. 
Even now, as he begins to go on some long-winded speech about the importance of your friendship, you’re already miles away, longing to drift towards the balcony that rests just across the room, taunting you with its open air and lack of people. 
“Anyways, would you care for another drink? I’m in need of one myself thanks to the hole at the bottom of my glass.” Pulling you back in, Gale lets out a joyous laugh, throwing his head back while you merely shake your head.
“I’m uh, no I’m fine Gale. You go ahead and get that drink. I think I’m going to head outside and get some air.” 
All he does is give you a tight hug before he leaves, stumbling across the marble floors, bumping into various bodies that suddenly get caught up in his inebriated storm, allowing you a moment to yourself. 
You let out a sigh of relief then, turning your attention to your desired spot, gathering up the skirt of your dress so that you can race to its opening, breathing in the scent of fresh air once you step past the threshold.  
Somehow once you’re out there, you notice that there isn’t a body in sight. No couples having late-night trysts in the corner or other lonesome individuals stood painfully reflecting on their night. It’s just you by yourself, walking slowly towards the railing, gripping it tight as you allow your mind to settle. To shut down for just a moment after being on for so long.
It feels like forever since you’ve felt this calm. After years of endless journeys —of fighting and running and, as of late, hiding away— you feel that old sense of ease wash over you. Like the waves of Waterdeep’s coast, they gently lap at your feet, rising and falling with each breath you take, watching from afar the bustling city streets below as they begin to die out for the night. 
It reminds you of home, a bit. Of the nights you used to spend wandering around Baldur’s Gate, your belly full of the cheapest ale and your mind empty of anything other than the prospect of fun. Back then, you were always full of reckless abandon, constantly getting into trouble only to talk your way out of it not long after and unfortunately, you can’t help but begin to miss it all. The life before the war. Before you were taken in the dead of night and forced into a life you never wanted to live. 
Things were simpler then. You didn’t have the scars of clashing swords or the kind of memories that often shook you awake each night, covered in sweat and gasping for air. Devoid of anything truly awful, all you had was the blissful ignorance of a fool. One hellbent on solitude in a world of constant interaction. 
Honestly, if it weren’t for the people you’d met along the way you’d be jealous of that life. The one where you were seemingly untouchable, your mind vacant of regret and resentment and—
Before you can continue, you shake those same feelings from your mind, forcing out a heavy breath as you try to maintain the calm. The ocean of waves of Waterdeep pooling between your toes, knowing it’s the only way you’ll move on. If you focus on the positives —if you refuse to look back even for the slightest of moments you’ll forget all about those other lives you lived. All the chapters you spent haphazardly scribbling down, trying desperately to get to this moment.
It seems impossible sometimes, remembering how much shit you had to go through to get here. Not only did you have to survive countless wars involving mind flayers and cultists, but you also had to die to get it. And not die in the metaphorical sense, either. No, you had to literally die —to off yourself in front of countless people and hope to god the Necromancer that you hired actually turned up. 
It was a whole process. One that you refuse to think about as you let out a scoff and raise your hands to your head, pressing two fingers to either temple to relieve yourself of the sudden ache that hits. 
“Remember what we said about thinking,” you remind yourself then, allowing your eyes to slowly roll back, savouring the alleviated pressure your fingers provide.
Repeating the mantra in your head, you rub your skin and hum aloud, standing for a few more minutes as you listen to the sounds of the bustling party behind you. How the music swells into a crescendo of excitement, various strings and woodwinds all playing in time with one another. 
Alongside it, a calming voice echoes over, rising and falling with each passing note that carries through the air to your ears. At first, it’s soft and silky —comforting in a way that wills you to drop your hands and take a few steps towards the entrance of the building, watching as a beautifully freckled bard strums her lute and smiles at the crowd. 
Suddenly intrigued, you move to your previous spot inside the ballroom, spotting a rather awestruck Gale who’s holding onto two glasses of red, staring with widened eyes.
“She’s rather pretty.” You grin wickedly and bump your hip against his, hearing him grunt as he blinks and glances at you. 
“I’m sorry?”
Taking the glass nearest to you, you then use that same hand to motion to the bard that’s begun to erupt in an upbeat chorus, her voice lowering to a wild growl as she kicks up her feet, dancing around the stage with some of the other musicians. “The bard. Fancy a taste?”
He narrows his eyes at you, a grin of his own peeling across his face as he shakes his head. “I think a conversation would suffice. Least, for starters.” 
Biting your bottom lip, you jokingly wrap your arm around his shoulders and shake, pressing your face against his cheek to make obnoxious kissing sounds that leave him laughing and shoving you off. 
“Unhand me, you harlot!” 
“What? Afraid she’ll see?” 
He opens his mouth, almost offended, staring for a moment as you wiggle your brows and take a sip of the wine. “Excuse you, that was my drink.”
“You got yourself two drinks?” You raise your brow.
He scrunches up his face in response before subtly craning his neck towards the other side of the ballroom. “No, it’s for Astarion.” 
Your stomach sinks at the mention of his name, filling you with the kind of dread you’ve only felt one other time in your life. All at once it sends you into a panic. Your chest aching and your throat tightening. Even your hands, once carefully wrapped around the vessel of liquid seemingly shifts to a close, resulting in shattering glass that pokes and prods your skin before it falls to the ground. 
Crying out in surprise, Gale’s previously mischievous expression quickly fades. Replacing it, an air of worry envelopes the both of you. As he reaches for your arm, allowing his hand to carefully slide down to view your newfound injury, you try to swallow and scan the room, picking apart face after face to no avail, wondering if somehow he’s already found you. If perhaps, instead of where Gale assumes he is he’s instead directly behind you, lingering like the creature of the night he is, waiting to strike. 
A shaky breath escapes you then. Peeling away from Gale’s cautious grasp, you take a minute to blink and look him up and down, noticing the growing fear in his eyes. How his lack of understanding only spurs your head to whip behind you, to find more curious eyes staring back. 
“Are you alright?” 
The question comes from a voice you’ve never heard before. So, instead of entertaining it you merely turn back to Gale, suddenly catching an unfortunate glimpse of pale skin and ivory hair quite a ways back. 
Immediately, it strengthens the dread inside, ripping the breath from your lungs as you press a nervous hand to your neck, realizing that somehow it’s already been years since you’ve last seen him. Months and days and hours all collectively bundled together, only to be completely ruined by this one moment.
As you stand there, staring —watching as he does nothing but the same, you feel your mind yelling for you to run. To discard whatever reservations you may have left to push violently through the crowd because, at this rate, it’s the only option left. Having already tried hiding beneath the freezing hands of Death himself, it’s obvious you’ve exhausted all other options. No matter what you do —what you say— nothing will be deemed feasible enough to grant you the escape you so foolishly desire. You’re too vulnerable now, standing there in your ballroom gown, bleeding from your injured hand, trying not to have a full-blown panic attack as he takes that first stride forward. 
Matching his step, you feel your body waver backwards, everything suddenly swirling across your vision as Gale reaches out to grab your arm, asking if you’re okay.
“I’m aware the breakup wasn’t amicable but maybe if you two just talk?” he suggests, his voice bouncing off your ears like a war drum, reminding you that Sufferance is coming. And that he’s dressed in his fanciest suit to mark the occasion, practically gliding through the room with knitted brows and frowning lips, pushing aside everybody who gets in his way. 
“Gale, we —I need to go.”
Suddenly your palm, still filled with glass pushes against his robes, staining the fabric as your blood begins to drip, reminding you of his hunger —of the way he used to feed. How he took and took, ignoring your starvation for something other than submission. Refusing to acknowledge the withering of your soul each day you spent wrapped around his pretty little fingers.  
As he shoves a woman to the ground, you can feel the emptiness within your stomach start to grow at the memory. The shuddering of your limbs driving Gale to look behind him, noticing the wild look in Astarion’s eyes as the crowd begins to part in fear, watching as he bares his teeth. 
It’s a look that makes you instantly flinch. Closing your eyes, your shoulders rise to touch your ears in anticipation. Waiting for the moment to strike, you all but freeze in place, holding your breath as the steps of his boots draw near, reverberating through the air until they suddenly stop.
In fact, everything stops. The sound of him —the sound of the party. All of it falls onto deaf ears, creating a new fear that has you so terrified you merely stand in place until you eventually hear the clapping sound of a hand on someone’s back, followed by the swirling of your head again, forcing your eyes to jolt open. 
“Oh, hello darling, didn’t see you there.”
Once again trying to breathe, you glance between the two men in confusion, watching as they share a lengthy embrace before Astarion’s pushing himself onto you. Gentler than expected, his arms slowly wrap around your shoulders as he does it, pulling you to his chest in a way that feels both frightening and familiar. A mix of home and hell encased around your nervous frame as he lowers his head to yours. 
In response, you reluctantly raise your hands and place them on his back, applying a bit of pressure at the centre as you mutter out a muddled hi, looking to see that the commotion he so violently caused before seems to have evaporated into thin air. 
“You’re awfully far from home, aren’t you?” His voice is barely above a whisper, ghosting against the shell of your ear as you force out a shaky breath.
“So are you.”
“I wonder why that is.”
You hum in response. Using the short moment of silence that’s granted to stare. To watch the way he looks you up and down, the edges of his lips pulling into a smirk of amusement. 
It’s obvious then that he’s thinking of playing tricks. Of taunting and teasing —using all the usual charming tactics before he decides it’s worth it to raise a little hell. 
Because of this, you merely swallow hard and spare Gale a glance, watching him magic away the bloodstain on his robes before looking back towards the stage. 
“How did you find me?”
Astarion reaches for your chin. Taking hold of it with his thumb and forefinger, he then waits patiently for you to share his gaze, looking your face up and down until he can finally see the fear in your eyes. “Does it really matter?” 
It does, but you know he won’t tell you so you move on to another question. “Why are you here then?” 
Immediately he scoffs, the smirk on his face falling for a split second. “Do you really have to ask?” he says, letting his thumb run across the length of your bottom lip. “Obviously, I’ve come to enjoy a spot of red with old friends.”
“Hm.”
“Among other things, of course.” 
“Like?” 
“Reclaiming my dead consort, for one.”
“And two?” 
He shrugs his shoulders as he taps your chin. “Not sure. Depends on how the night goes.” 
You’re not sure what to say then. Growing increasingly lost to the feeling of his hands and voice —remembering all the moments shared when it was just him and you and the power imbalance of ascension hadn’t yet existed— all you can do is pull him in a bit tighter. 
Knowing that Gale is probably growing more curious by the second, you suddenly feel a sense of protection. An urge to get rid of him so that he’s no longer at risk. 
Well aware of the power Astarion now holds within his grasp, you know it’s hardly worth it to try and get him involved anyway, especially considering how much alcohol he’s consumed. The poor man couldn’t be helpful even if he tried, so instead of asking you merely hold on. Tightening your grip as the other parts of you desperately try to rationalize just how much you’ve missed this. How even after years spent fleeing his hold —years of constant moving and hiding and watching your back for signs of his presence— his touch is still the only thing that makes you feel safe.
Which is a fact that makes you sick to your stomach, discovering that, regardless of being able to name a million reasons why you should be fleeing rather than falling, suddenly you’re able to name just as much for why you’d stay. Why you’d more than willingly follow his footsteps if he asked. 
And not because you fear him, no. Despite having just been found out —despite that growing uncertainty of how you’ll inevitably be taken back— it’s as if your mind resets on impact. As he holds you close, speaking in obvious threats to your safety if you don’t listen, you can feel the defiance in you quickly dwindle. Evaporating into thin air as he leans away to give Gale an overly friendly smack to the shoulder. 
“Gale, darling, you wouldn’t mind giving us a bit of privacy would you? Seems we have much to discuss.” 
The hold he has on you tightens as he speaks, reminding you that such a conversation is anything but optional as Gale almost immediately buggers off, drunkenly mumbling something about drinks and fun before Astarion’s whisking you away. 
Leading you through a crowd of bodies, you quickly find your hand gripping his shoulder absentmindedly. All splayed out, your fingers nervously caress the fabric of his doublet, feeling the texture shift beneath your skin, reminding you that he’s here. That’s he’s present and real and not just some illusion conjured up to scare you into coming back. 
“Your entrance back there was…” 
You’re not sure what to say anymore. Not with the underlying rage you can feel radiating off of him. Given the fact that it’s been so long, you’ve almost forgotten how to please him. To make his mind ease into those old spaces of pity where sometimes he’d grant you reprieve amongst the punishment. 
Knowing this, he looks at you with feigned innocence, taunting you with his still raised lip as though he’s having fun despite slowly inching towards the blowout. “Did you like it? I figured, it’s been so long since I’ve last toyed with that little mind of yours, best to give it a proper show.” 
He wipes his thumb across your forehead and watches you frown; your head suddenly darting back only to be ripped forward when that same hand tightens around your throat.
All at once the action leaves you gasping for air. As his thumb presses down on the centre of your neck, applying just enough pressure to pull from you a nervous wheeze as the two of you stop, he can’t help but lower his face to yours. 
“I’d consider yourself lucky that the temperament I showed back there was merely an illusion,” he tells you, pressing his forehead to yours.
Swallowing to no avail, you feel the lump in your throat become pressurized by the growing frustrations in his hand. Prompting you to panic, another airless sound emits from your lips as your eyes begin to dart around, looking at all the curious eyes that seemingly look away the second you make contact. 
You realize then that nobody cares. Whether it’s due to the intimidating presence he exudes or the potential word of mouth of his ascendance circulating the room, you don’t care, knowing it doesn’t really matter anyway. He’s untouchable regardless. A force so unmovable that all you can do is pray that he’s merciless. 
As he grips your throat amongst a sea of avoidant faces, unwavering in his efforts to patronize your past behaviours, you know then that this marks the end of your freedom. That from this moment on his control over you has been reenacted without discussion. 
“Now, are we going to obey and have a nice evening or are we going to do something we might regret?” 
Looking back at him, all you can do is nod, feeling that alleviation slowly come. Granting you the chance to breathe again, you cough quietly and reach for your throat, rubbing the pain away as you watch his previously aggressive demeanour fall into amusement, once again stringing you along. 
At which point you effectively zone out. Still feeling his hand flush against the small of your back, it’s as if suddenly your mind becomes null, avoiding all thoughts as he leads you through the main entry of the ballroom, turning down a seemingly endless stream of corridors until you find yourself face to face with an ornate door. 
Once there, he peels away from your frame and begins to pick the lock, wickedly grinning at you once that familiar click rings out, reminding you of the old him. Of how he was before the ritual, all doe-eyed and excited to experience the world and all its gifts. 
It makes your lip pull between your teeth nervously, seeing him unbend the length of his back to look at you. To smirk in a way that feels so real and him that you almost forget that he’s changed. That, instead of picking the lock to loot the room and make charming little jokes at your expense, he’s doing it so he can get you alone. So that he can do unspeakable things the old Astarion would never think to do.
“Shall we?” 
His voice rings out like a request even though you know deep down it’s a command, secretly telling you to hurry up. So, doing just that, you brush past him without so much as a glance, taking in the endless wall of books that greets you as you enter, opening your mouth in slight awe until the door closes behind you. 
Turning back, you’re then given all but a second before he’s on you. Grabbing you with such violent desperation, a hand snakes around your waist, claiming you like he used to do when you were still devoted to being his. When this idea of free will was nothing more than a passing thought that barely grazed the surface.
Back when he was still yours. 
Immediately, the familiarity of it wreaks havoc on your chest. Your heart, once filled with longing and fear now radiates nothing but need. Demanding that old sensation of flesh brushing against flesh as his other hand takes hold of the base of your neck.
The second you feel it, all thoughts are lost. Every previous reservation you once had melting into nothing against the hot feeling of your mouth pushing against his, prying open both lips to taste his tongue. To remind yourself of what it felt like to be wanted in the simplest sense. 
Deepening the kiss, he moans and somehow pulls you closer, forcing your chests together as he maneuvers you backwards, stumbling over a raised edge of a rug before practically tossing you onto the floor. 
“Years,” he groans then, pulling away to stare down at you with knitted brows and swollen lips, distracting you with that pretty face as he begins to rip the bodice of your dress. “I’ve spent years without this flesh —without this blood.” 
His fingers pry at the fabric, peeling back the only layer you have to hide behind until you’re left exposed from the waist up, anxiously breathing at the sight of his hunger. 
A sight that leaves you helpless beneath his grasp as he quickly leans forward, palming one breast while holding your face with the other. Beneath him, all you’re able to do is take each touch as it comes, savouring the uncharacteristic softness as his thumb brushes against your nipple, teasing it with gentle swipes as he goes in for another kiss.
Similar to his hands, there’s a strange feeling that comes along with it. As he nibbles your bottom lip, choosing to give you control, you know that something’s off. That instead of displaying the softest version of him you’ve felt in years, he should be punishing you with reckless brutality. Taking what’s rightfully his without so much as a thought.
Because of this, you reluctantly pull away, gasping for air as he hovers above you, still stroking your chest and face. 
“Why are you doing this?”
Normally, such a question would result in some sort of punishment. A night of solitary confinement. Perhaps the silent treatment for up to a week. 
Back before you realized just how fucked up everything had gotten he used to isolate you for things as simple as this. Forcing everyone around to ignore your every waking move, he found that loneliness was the key to your obedience. The only way to control whatever reckless thoughts entered your mind. 
So, it’s surprising when he answers —when he lowers his mouth to give your lips one final kiss before flashing that smirk. “What do you mean?” 
You raise your brow and move to sit up, leaning against your elbows as your face contorts in confusion. “Why are you acting like him?”
“You mean me?” 
You open your mouth to respond —to fight against his words, knowing now more than ever that you should. Considering the door’s already open for conversation, you might as well get all your thoughts out while you’re able. Because after this it’s apparent, you’ll be stuck all over again, wasting away at the foot of a God who’s anything but forgiving. 
“You aren’t punishing me.” 
“I’m not.” 
“Why?”
His hand explores your face, swiping across skin that hasn’t felt a single touch since your departure. “There’s always time for punishment —for penance,” he tells you, tracing your features with featherlight strokes that have you begging for more as you push yourself upward. “Now that I have you again, there’s far more important things I want before I subject you to what you deserve.” 
“Which is?” 
He pauses for a while, continuing his ministrations in a way that has you forgetting why you left in the first place. Why, instead of subjecting yourself to the torment of his hand to feel the grace that often coincides, you decided to give it all up. 
“I haven’t quite decided yet.” 
It’s a simple statement, yet it holds far too much weight against your ears. As he speaks, your heart flutters in your chest nervously, reminding you that this thing between you is nothing more than an imbalance. A tipping scale so unevenly distributed that you’ve lost all hope for rebalance. 
Because of this, you don’t fight him when he inevitably leans forward. Nor when he presses a slightly rougher kiss to your lips, biting down with a newfound vigour that splits your lip in half. Feeling the blood pool out, you hardly react when Astarion’s lips begin to suckle the wound, lapping up whatever spills through as he rips away the rest of your clothes, tossing it all aside.
Suddenly cold, you find your arms rising to hold him all over again. Wanting to feel the fabric of his clothes pressing against your bare skin, you grip him tight and groan, relishing in this moment. Enjoying the familiarity of it as something warm blooms across your aching core, fuelling the need for your hips to slightly buck up, making him laugh. 
Light and airy, the sound filters through your mouth like smoke, taking hold of your lungs in a way that leaves you addicted. Wanting to chase that past feeling, your hands swiftly lower to his waist, your fingers tucking themselves under his clothes to touch the texture of his scar —to feel the old him amongst all the new. 
Realizing this, his movements become suddenly erratic. Forcing himself up with a grin, he then begins to quickly trail down your body, pressing his mouth to every exposed bit within his sightline, making sure to glance up at your heavy eyes and parted lips along the way. 
“Mm, still as desperate as ever, my little consort,” he tuts. 
Between the kisses he places to your freshly bruised flesh, he releases another laugh that lingers in your mind, further reminding you of him. Of the man you fell in love with. Of the man who swiftly slips between your thighs with little notice, raising the backs to rest against his shoulders. 
A sound of shock escapes your lips at the new position, craning your neck to watch him latch onto your inner thigh, suckling the plush through such a guttural moan that it forces your jaw to drop.
“Fucking hell,” you mumble then, prompting his lips to curl into a grin before he’s biting your thigh, forcing his teeth through the tender flesh before you can even think to object.
It feels better than you remember. Almost like a hot flash of pleasure before that familiar coldness kicks in, numbing the space that he suckles with haste. As his lips hollow out to drink whatever he can get, you feel his hand slip against your entrance, knuckles grazing the outer folds of your sex just right. 
Bucking your hips again, you feel his movements become one. Each time his tongue licks up, his fingers raise to the top of your cunt, flowing back down in such delicious unison you’re already ready to submit. To surrender yourself to whatever pleasures might await through the pain of your punishment.
So much so that you’re already begging for it. Through gasps that barely hit his ears, your voice whines for more. For more pressure or movement or frankly, whatever the hell he’s willing to give despite how undeserving you are.
“Please, Astarion.”
The moment he hears that little please he’s pulling away, grinning at you with teeth and tongue all covered in your blood. 
“I’m sorry, you want me to please you?”
He gently pushes two fingers into your entrance, curling the ends ever so slightly while keeping them still, watching as you press your lips together, unable to speak.
“To pleasure you?”
Slowly, he angles his head to suck your thigh again, dragging a fresh wave of blood through his hungry lips before shifting towards your cunt and licking a tentative strip directly above his fingers. 
“To taste you, perhaps?”
His voice is low, droning on in that teasing way that has you looking down annoyed, taking in the way he goes back and forth, debating whether or not to relent. To give in to the indulgence, watching you squirm beneath him. Forcing you to stir in your own prolonged pleasure until he all but sits back up, digging his fingers into the holes in your thigh, telling you you’ll get what you deserve once you’ve come back home.
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