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#1.7k event now
ghostgirl101 · 7 days
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I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
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You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
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silverstonesainz · 4 months
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five minutes
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─── its only five more minutes
lando norris x fewtrell!femreader warnings; none 1.7k words
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lando’s arms are crossed over his chest, nodding every now and again as he pretends to listen to the other person talk. you know he’s pretending because his head is tilted ever so slightly, so that his eyes can look just past the person and right at whatever is on the wall behind them. this time around, it’s a television playing a new advert starring the driver himself. he scrunches his nose when he sees himself pop up on screen, and forces himself to look back at the person who hasn’t noticed that he’d lost the driver three sentences ago. the conversation eventually comes to a close with an exchange of smiles and hopeful goodbyes. 
you watch his shoulders deflate the moment the person is out of sight, his eyelids drooping down to his phone. he taps away, clenches his jaw all the while before he slips his phone back into his pocket. but his jaw doesn’t let, you see the tendons moving about underneath his skin. you push around your purse as you make your way over to him. he sees you, you don’t see the moment he does, the way he smiles when he sees a familiar face approaching. 
you pull out a pack of gum, shaking it with a smile. “gum?”
he chuckles, straightening his posture as he reaches over to pluck the pack from your fingers. “am i doing it again?” you hum a confirmation, “thanks mins.” 
mins. he’d given you the nickname when you were six, he was eight. mini-max, is what he called you. you hated it, and he loved calling you it. he reveled in the scowl you’d give him every time, and it only encouraged him to call you that. and the longer he did, the older you got, the nickname evolved. mini-max, to mini, and now just mins. 
you pull out a piece of gum for yourself before popping the pack back into your purse. lando looks around the room, “where’s your brother?”
your head spins around, searching for a head of curly hair and a man of small stature. but you can’t see over the mess of people at the event. you tiptoe, crane your neck, but to no avail you don’t find him. so you shrug your response, turning to look up at your brother’s best friend, who is too busy looking around the room to see your response. 
“if i had to guess, probably taking advantage of the open bar.” 
lando laughs. he tries to soften the shrill sounds, muffles it into a soft chuckle as he leans his weight onto the cocktail table. “probably.” he agrees. 
he indulges in a bit more conversation with you. the easy kind, the kind that makes your swell and make you believe that for a second this could work. this. you and him. 
“lando,” his pr officer, harry, appears by his side, offers you a curt smile before looking back at the driver, “a potential sponsor would like to speak to you.” 
you try to hide the disappointment, put up a supportive front even as the british boy looks at you apologetically. he huffs a breath, looks over at harry to ask if it was really even necessary. but the man is stubborn, shakes his head as he stresses the importance of his next conversation. lando concedes, asks for just a second and sends his pr person off to wait for him a few feet away. the boy is apologetic, though he shouldn’t be. its work. this was work. 
“it’s alright, i’ll be right here.”
“promise?” 
“of course.” 
he smiles, relieved, “okay. i’ll only be five minutes. don’t move a muscle, mins.” 
he smiles at you, miserable and apologetic, as he takes careful steps backwards. he doesn’t quite take his eyes off you, ignoring the man in orange walking by him, playfully rolling his eyes as his companion continues to yap on about things he’d surely forget in the next ten minutes anyways. lando doesn’t turn away until he bumps into a table and has to apologize to the people standing by it. you laugh behind your palm, try to hide the all-too-wide smile and soften a giggle much too loud for the situation. he turns his head one more time, almost like could hear your amusement from across the room. he grins widely when he sees the inexplicable joy on your face over his embarrassment, grins because your laugh makes the night a little more bearable. 
at least you think that’s why.
“what are you laughing at?” 
your posture stiffens at the sound of your brother’s voice, hear beating quickly out of nerves. you turn to look at max, who is holding a glass of something in his hand and his eyebrow raised like he wants in on the joke. 
“lando uh, he bumped into the cocktail table.”
max nods into the rim of his glass as he takes a sip, “course he did. klutz.” 
lando is deep in conversation now, a little more enthusiastic than earlier. he’s moving his hands a lot more, and his smile had yet to fade away. there’s a bit of jealousy— or maybe neediness, when you see him like this. you wish you had five more minutes of his time, just five more before he had to be lando norris, mclaren’s golden boy. you just wanted five more minutes of just lando. 
but you always ask for five more minutes. you’d been asking for five more minutes since you were sixteen, when lando’s 100th goodbye hurt like it was the first. five more minutes on the phone, five more minutes at the family dinner. it’s only five more minutes. 
you miss his eyes, you miss his presence. it’s silly really, how much you can miss a person even if they’re only across the room. 
“stop that.” 
max’s voice takes you out of your trance, pries your eyes away from his curly haired friend who continues to wow the person before him, forces you to look over at him the disappointed look on his face.
“what?”
“you know what,” max quips, “don’t look at lando like you’re in love with him.” 
“shut up max.” the embarrassment rises to your cheeks, turns them red and makes the skin hot. 
“i’m being serious y/n, you can’t fall in love with him.” there isn’t a hint of humor on your brother’s face, not a tremor of amusement. he’s stoic, dead serious about what he’s just said. 
“you don’t really get a say over who i fall in love with max, it's really none of your business.”
it’s not a no, not a denial to the unasked question over your feelings for lando. you turn away from max, but even then you can still see the way his face contorts to one of realization. you try to ignore the way your brother puts together how in deep you are for his best friend, the worry turn to panic, then to a grimace you can’t quite read otherwise. 
max puts his drink down on the table, takes a step closer to you to add a pit of privacy to the conversation at hand. “it’s my business if it’s my best friend. it’s not a good idea kid, i could give you a million reasons why it isn’t a good idea.” 
“give me one.” you dare, words hissed through your teeth. “if you have a million, give me one.” 
there’s a bit of hesitation from max. he looks over at his friend, who has yet to notice his presence in the room, then back over at you, his little sister. “because he’s my best friend. and when he inevitably breaks your heart— because he will, it’s lando. when he does, i’ll have to hate him. i will hate him because i love you. and i will hate him even if you ask me not to.” max looks over at his best friend, who finally sees him and waves over. max returns the gesture, pretends he’s not breaking your heart for him. 
lando’s skin glows under the warm light of the room. curls are defined atop his head, trimmed and kept with purpose. he looks heavenly, and it hurts to see him this way. 
it hurts to be in love with him.
“he’s going to hurt you,” max whispers, “and i’ll never be able to forgive him for it. and then i’ll lose him too. and i can’t lose him.” 
tears sting your eyes, “you don’t give him enough credit.” 
“you give him too much.” 
you turn away before the tears fall from your eyes. you’ll be damned if lando catches you crying, damned if you had to explain why. so you turn away, the back of your hand coming up to swipe away the tears on your cheeks. 
“i have to go.” you mumble. max sighs your name, begs you not to, but you shake your head, “i’m fine. it’s fine.” 
it’s not fine. you’re not fine.
“i’m just trying to protect you.” max mumbles. 
maybe he was. maybe one day you’d thank him for saving you the trouble of getting involved with lando. one day, you’ll be happy with your version of mr. perfect and thank the heavens that your brother talked you out of a bad idea like lando. one day you’ll be okay.
but for now, you’re not. in that moment, it hurt. you didn’t feel protected. you feel exposed, stripped of security and left bare at the cold truth. for now, you’d revel in the heartache of realizing lando could never be yours, that he was always going to be as unattainable as the five more minutes you used to pray for. 
“just tell lando…” you start. you turn your head, look over your shoulder and over at lando who laughs at something in the middle of the conversation. you wish you could laugh with him, wish you were in on the joke. you wish you were by him, part of this great big world he’d created for himself. 
you turn away, shaking your head and pulling your purse tighter against you. “… never mind.” you finish.
you duck out of the room, ignoring the way your brother calls your name, or the soft sound of lando asking you where you were going as you slip out the door.
you wish you could go back five minutes, before the heartache and the bitter truth. just five minutes.
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d rambles. . . i have such mixed emotions about this one and i almost wanted to delete it but. here we are. lets just say i hate the first half, like the second. so ya. anyways. thx for reading! and saying it just to say it: don't be a ghost reader! i hope you liked this one & as always, feedback is always always appreciated.
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chaepink · 6 months
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DAY 12: OPEN YOUR MOUTH, PRETTY BOY | FINGER SUCKING & FOOT HUMPING
who knew that the nerd in your english class would be a virgin and that they would be so fun to corrupt?
⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ PAIRING ⸻ zenistsu agatsuma x reader
⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WARNINGS ⸻ dom!fem!reader (but def could be read as gn), mean!reader, nerd!zenistsu, corruption kink, degradation, finger sucking, throat fucking-ish, oral fixation, college au, foot humping/grinding, porn WITH some plot, overall cringe writing my bad guys 😭 not really proofread
⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WORDS ⸻ 1.7k words
⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ NOTE ⸻ beginning sucks but it gets better at the end i swear anyways its day 12 of kinktober! hows everyone feeling
KINKTOBER EVENT
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You've seen the stares he's been giving you and they're not subtle at all. Rather it seems as if he wants you to find out that he's been looking at you from the way its so obvious.
With his collared shirt so neat and ironed straight, supplies on his desk organized by size and color, and just the way he's sitting so straight and ready to learn has you rolling your eyes.
The aura that just screams 'nerd' adorning him tells you exactly the type of person he is too.
You've seen him around campus a few times, usually at club meetings or in the library studying his ass off.
You catch him looking at you again during a class you two have, making you grimace as you whisper to your friends.
"Who's he?" You nod your head to him with furrowed eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him look away from you, blushing.
"Oh him?" Your friends make a show of turning around to get a good look at him before turning around to you, to which you have to hold in a sarcastic remark about subtlety. "He's such a fucking freak isn't he?" Your friends giggle.
"Heard he's a virgin too, what a fucking loser." You raise an eyebrow. Now you didn't know that. "He is? Where did you hear that?" Your friend gives you an unimpressed look as if the answer is obvious.
"Look at him, who would want to fuck him? He's probably such a pervert too."
You turn your head around slightly to glance at him and notice him quickly looking away from you, his face turning red from being caught.
The bell suddenly rings and you tell your friends to not wait for you as you make your way to a certain yellow-haired guy. You add a little sway to your hips, pretending to not notice the small peeks he's taking at you or the way his face is turning redder the closer you get to him. You walk to him still taking down notes and place your hands in front of him, catching him off guard.
You hold back from rolling your eyes when you see him not so subtly glance at your body and how your clothes tightly hug your curves. He gulps when you let out a loud cough.
"Hey, name's..." You quickly glance at the name on the folder and return to his gaze with raised eyebrows. "Zenistsu, right?"
Slowly, he nods. You lean slightly towards him, shortening the gap between you two with a smile. "I heard you have good grades, is that right?"
You notice him swallow and play with his tie nervously.
"Y-Yeah, why?"
"I was wondering if you could tutor me on some subjects? I could really use the help since I've been having trouble with some work recently."
You notice his breath hitch. "Please?"
"Um s-sure. Should we do it in the library after school?"
Without answering, you steal his pencil to write your dorm number on one of his papers. "How about you just head to my room later? I don't have a roommate anyways."
He stares at the number with widened eyes but he hesitantly nods.
Now you just have to wait.
--
Hours later you're laying on your coach. The sound of pencil on paper and typing is in the background as you continue scrolling. Zenistsu turns around in your chair with furrowed eyebrows.
"S-Shouldn't I be teaching you how to do this-"
You scoff and send a glare towards him. "Shut up and just do the work. It's easy for you anyways, right?"
He nods and returns back to finishing your homework. He mentally slaps himself for being so stupid for thinking that something would happen when you asked him to come to your dorm. He quickly finishes the rest of the work before turning to you. You glance up from your phone.
"What? You're already done?" He nods. "Then leave."
You see Zenistsu freeze and raise a eyebrow. "What, do you want something in return?"
He shakes his head. "I-I just thought we were gonna…" He suddenly stops talking, realizing what he was going to say but you already know what the next words are gonna be, and giggle.
"Did you think we were gonna do something afterward?" He looks away in shame but nods. You sit on the edge of the sofa, now interested. "You thought we were gonna fuck or something as a reward for you doing my homework?"
Your blunt words make Zenistsu blush and he's quick to shake his head. "N-No I-I just..." You notice a bulge in his pants and laugh.
"Oh my god don't tell me you're actually hard right now." He quickly tries to cover his bulge there's no use, you already saw it.
He's so embarrassed that he could cry. First he thought you invited him over to hang out and now he's hard in front of you.
"Honestly," you say, dragging out the word to tease him.
"If you're really that desperate, go ahead and hump my foot then." He watches you place your foot out with a teasing grin and it only takes him a couple of seconds to think about it. With shaky steps, he walks towards you before sitting on his knees before you.
"Go on."
He gives your foot a experimental grind and he has to bite down on his tongue to hold back a moan. Though a voice in his head screams at him to take it slow and save him some embarrassment, he quickly gets addicted to the feeling and quickens his pace against you. Soon, he's panting heavily against your leg and you watch with amusement.
"How about you say thank you to me for letting you hump my foot, hm? Say thank you for letting me hump my dirty cock against your foot, [name]."
He flushes red with embarrassment but frantically nods. Thank you's begin flowing out of his mouth with your name added along with it.
"Thank you for l-letting me ah! hump my d-dirty cock against your foot, [name]!"
If anything, Zenistsu only speeds up his movements even more. He wouldn't ever think that the way you're so mean to him would turn him on or that he would actually enjoy but here he is: grinding against your foot like a bitch in heat as his sinful noises fill the room. Anyone could walk past your dorm and hear just how loud he's being but other more important thoughts fill his head, like the sudden need to cum.
"Fucking freak."
"s-shit fuck me!" You laugh, making him whine. "Oh you wish. A shoe hump is all you're gonna get from me. Though I bet you do want to fuck me, hm?" You tease, watching the way he shivers. The thought has his eyes rolling back. Just imagining being able to fuck you has his mind turning cloudy, his thoughts scrambling up.
His mouth drops open with a girlish scream when his orgasm hits him and it hits him hard. Your eyes stare at his mouth and the way drool escapes from the side. The growing wet patch on his underwear steals your attention and you watch as some leaks through the material, dripping onto the floor beneath him.
"You're so pathetic, Zenistsu."
Your fingers drop to the hem of his underwear before entering them, feeling the sticky mess where his dick is. You take your time scooping some on your fingers before taking them out, watching as the liquid drips down your fingers slowly and coats them.
You let out a disappointed tsk. "Look at the mess you made."
Zenistsu watches your every move and his heart begins to race when you look at him with something in your eyes that makes his breath hitch. He sees your eyes drop down to his mouth and he subconsciously licks his lips.
You grin at him. "Open your mouth, pretty boy." You say, moving the soiled fingers closer to his face.
Almost with no hesitation, you watch as he slowly opens his mouth, his tongue sticking out like a invitation for your fingers to enter. Hot breath fans them as they move closer to him.
The whine he lets out tells you exactly what he wants. He looks at you, awaiting your next move. He glances at your fingers with something in his eyes, almost like excitement.
When two of your fingers touch his tongue, his warm mouth immediately envelops them as he wraps his tongue around your digits. He shivers from both the taste of himself on his tongue and from the feeling of your fingers in his mouth, letting out a small whine.
You don't let him get used to the feeling as you begin to push them further in his mouth, making him let out a surprised moan.
You feel your fingers hit the back of his throat, making Zenistsu gag around him. Tears appear at the corner of his eyes and you coo at him.
"Are you gonna cry, Zenistsu? Is the feeling of my fingers down your throat too much?" He gulps at your words but shakes his head.
He begins bobbing his head with your fingers, letting out a noise each time they hit the back of his throat. You feel his tongue suck on them.
The sight is so lewd that it leaves you breathless. His drool drips down your hand and his eyes roll back as he chokes on your fingers. He has a hand on your wrist but he makes no move to stop you. Instead, he pushes your fingers in more with a choked moan. He stares up at you with hooded eyes.
You shove another finger in his mouth and Zenistsu is quick to cover it in his spit.
"Shit, I wonder what everyone would think if they heard how much of a whore you actually are."
Zenistsu can only shake his head in denial, tears welling up even more. He tries to answer back but it comes out all muffled.
"Can't understand what you're saying if you got my fingers in your mouth, baby."
He whimpers around your fingers. You don't notice him beginning to grind against your foot again and he comes with a cry, dirtying his pants yet again.
You take your fingers out of his mouth and he falls against your legs, breath heavy and eyes closed. But you grab his hair and yank him back, staring straight into his eyes.
"Oh we're far from done, Zenistsu. I'm going to use you till you can't think anymore."
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vivinomi · 2 months
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— bully!shoko x fem!reader, commander!toji x fem!reader
cw: dubcon/noncon, sexual assault, sexual harassment, pussy eating, spanking, both toji and naoya are bad people, naoya is a simp for toji, overprotective nanami, that's all i guess
a/n: pt3 is here!! i think this is the most hardest chapter i ever written and it's so rush sorry 🥹 my writing is getting bad :') anyways enjoy this new chapter and thanks for being patience
likes and reblogs are appreciated
masterlist ✨
1.7k w.c
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He shouldn’t be seeing this, let alone enjoying this- the view of you kneeling in front of a man with puffy eyes and your cute mouth trying its best to suck a cock turned him on. He's supposed to look away but not when you’re so pretty. He immediately left the scene wiping his eyes, mumbling apologize to himself as if it was towards you, making his way back to his dorm. Choso might have a slight crush on you because you’re so sweet and cute. He eagerly wanted to be your friend after you helped him find a book in the library as he was lost at that time- the campus library is so big. But whenever he wanted to approach you, this slight heat came to his face and his heart couldn’t stop beating so fast. Is he nervous? Storming into his dorm room with a red face and slightly heavy breath, he plopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling to forget all the events that had happened.
“Shh… Be quiet, baby. Don’t want anyone to find you like this hm?”, Shoko mutters as she snuggles her face to your wet cunt, licking and sucking onto your clit making you a trembling mess. Your mouth is covered by your hand to muffle all the moans. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, not until Shoko barged into your room, getting her permission from your roommates and tormenting you the way she wanted just like her best friends.
Shoko instantly inserts a finger inside your cunt while licking aggressively on it, moving her finger faster as your liquid kept spurting from your hole. Your hips were gripped to make sure you were not moving away from her face, Shoko enjoyed eating your pussy- she says it taste sweet and she wants to keep it for herself, doesn’t want to share it with Gojo and Geto. You on the other hand trying your best to not make a single sound or else you will get caught which is your biggest concern ever. Hours ago, you were scared of getting caught by sucking Gojo’s but now it’s Shoko's turn.
“Damn! I wanna fuck you so bad but I don’t have my strap”, Shoko pouted slightly. You let out a shaky breath and your vision blurred from all the pleasured tears. You squirm as Shoko embraces you with a hug and kisses your temple. Weird? Why are they acting nice all of a sudden?
“Here”, Choso shyly hands you a cute handkerchief to you which you tilt with confusion. Who is he? You didn’t have any memory of him.
“Go away”, Nanami said in a cold tone as he shielded you with his big muscular arm. Just now, you, Nanami, Haibara and Ino are eating lunch together until Choso walks to you and hands you a handkerchief with a red face, Nanami interprets Choso as a typical bully who just wants to make fun of you, without any thought, Nanami stepped up to protect you. While Haibara and Ino stand in front of you, crossing their arms, making scary faces as if they were your bodyguards.
To your eyes, it seems that Choso just wanted to be your friend. You pushed Nanami’s hand away which caused the male to be in confusion, you flashed your usual smile which made all of them melt and gladly accept Choso’s gift. “Thanks even though I don’t know your name”.
Your cute voice made Choso’s heart beat even faster than before and he gulped, gathering his confidence. “My name is Choso Kamo. Call me Choso”.
“Hi Choso. My name is Y/N”, you said which caused Choso to blush. This got Nanami's attention to which he gave Choso a surprised face. In Nanami’s eyes, he had a hard time accepting Choso as one of your friends, he was afraid that he might be plotting something bad to you but brushed it off.
“Hey Y/N, have you registered for the military marching programs?”, asked Haibara as he was chomping on his chicken sandwiches. You stopped chewing your food and told him you didn’t register it yet.
“You better hurry or else you will get a penalty”, Ino added and continued eating to which Nanami nodded in agreement. Military marching is a compulsory cocurricular activity in your college for semester 1 only. You didn’t know why your college had it and the benefits of it but your problem was that you were very weak and had a low stamina. You may had a hard time doing this activity as you heard a lot of news where soldiers fainted during the marching and some of them ended up in the hospital because of their bones dislocation.
That night, you register the cocurricular online on the college’s website. A few days later, you were met with bad news (that was what they thought). You, Nanami, Haibara, Ino and Choso were in different platoon which they considered were not good because who the hell gonna took care of you from getting bullied?
“Guys, it’s fine. I can handle it by myself”, you said, trying to reassure them not to worry about you. You were not some kid who needed someone to protect you, you were a grown up. They sighed in defeat and bid you goodbye. Haibara patted your head while Nanami couldn’t stop worrying about you, giving you some advice about what to do when someone bullies you.
You went to your platoon and saw a lot of people were already there, it was scary because most of them were men but you shook your head to ignore all those worries. You got on your position standing beside a male with blond hair with dark roots and sharp eyes. You glanced at him as you found him somewhere scary, he looked like a delinquent.
The man noticed your glance and looked at you with annoyance. “What’chu lookin' at woman?!”.
His tone made you flinch and you faced forward without daring to look at him any further. He laughed at your reaction, “guess being in this platoon was not so bad”, he thought.
Suddenly, everyone stood erect which caused you to do the same. A man with a huge build and black hair walked in front. He looked so scary with his piercing green eyes along with a scar on his lip.
“The name is Toji Fushiguro. You're either gonna call me commander or sir. Got that?”, the male said. His deep voice caused a shiver down your spine. He’s creepy. But the man beside you thought otherwise, everyone was afraid of Toji but his eyes seemed to sparkle whenever Toji was around. You later found out his name is Naoya Zenin while taking the attendance.
You felt uncomfortable. During the training, Toji can’t keep his eyes away from you, sure you made a lot of mistakes by not doing it properly and were always scolded by him for not doing it right. But you didn’t expect him to glare at you every single time. It was way worse when Naoya couldn’t stop insulting you or throwing any mean words at you, he looked jealous that you got Toji’s attention but not him.
“Oi, small fry!”, Toji called after the training ended. You froze and looked at him, bowing slightly to give him some respect. “Meet me at my office now!”, he instructed which you immediately followed him. In the corner of your eyes, you could see Naoya’s face burning in rage. You gave yourself an experimental note to not talk with him.
As soon as Toji closed the door, he instructed you to sit on the chair in front of his desk. His office was not clean but not too messy, it was a perfect example for an old man’s office. All of the furniture looked old too, it felt like you were in a five night at Freddy’s office.
Toji took a seat in front of you as he let out a heavy sigh. “You are really bad at this and I chose to train you extra time. Sound good?”.
You gulped and gripped your trousers to ease your nervousness. “I’m not sure, sir. I mean it’s just the two of us… Don’t you think it’s a bit-”.
Your words got cut off as Toji flashed his devilish smirk. “I don’t care. Plus, if you don’t pass this training ya have to repeat it”. A moment of silence passed as you frowned, thinking whether to accept his offer or fail the class and have to retake it. Toji was not a man with patience and grabbed your wrist to catch your attention.
“Is it yes? Or no?”.
“Y-yes sir”, you declared after some thoughts.
“Good girl”, said Toji and grabbed both of your hips to put you onto his lap, his hot breath fanning your mouth. Both of you were so close that you tried to shove him away by pushing his chest.
“S-sir, what is this?”, your face flushed as you stuttered your own words.
“Ya think I’m gonna let you get away from being punished?”, he grinned and lay your stomach on his lap.
“Sir please-! T-this is embarrassing…”, you plead when you felt his hand slide down your trouser exposing your panty with your plump ass. Toji ignored your begging and decided to land a hit your ass leaving a red mark on it. You yelped as tears started forming in your eyes. You bit your lip as another hit came to your ass. You gave up a long time ago when he kept spanking you, your ass was full of red marks and your face became a sobbing mess.
“Sir, t-too much”, you hiccuped. Toji rubbed your ass and kissed your temple to ease the pain. “Yeah yeah sorry but that's what ya get for being a bad girl hmm”.
“Sorry sir. Promise to do better”.
Toji smiled, helping you with your trousers and walked towards the door. He kissed your temple one last time before he shoved you outside, “See ya next week”.
After he closed the door, you walked towards your room while wiping the tears on your face. You hope your friends won’t find you in this condition. You didn’t want them to feel worried and enraged. But someone saw you, he saw your crying face and felt slightly worried for you but he brushed it away because Naoya was not the type to care about people other than himself.
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dolcettamagica · 19 days
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥
ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au
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tags: degradation, daddy kink, videocall-sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sexting notes: minors dni, one sequel to "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴" - you decided to text your boss Sukuna wc: 1.7k
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Finally you arrived home, your steps heavy with exhaustion yet tinged with relief. With each passing moment, the weight of responsibility seemed to lift as you approached your doorstep. Unlocking the door, you stepped into the comforting embrace of your sanctuary, where the warmth and familiarity of your home enveloped you like a soft blanket. Sighing deeply, you kicked off your shoes and let the tension of the day melt away. Settling into your favorite armchair, you closed your eyes, letting the tranquility of home wash over you, yet you were restless.
Your fingers reached into the pocket of your coat to pull out the cigarette Sukuna gave you, his number written on it. “Hm…”, you took off your coat, letting it fall next to you on the ground. “Should I really?” Flashes of the previous event came rushing back into your mind – the way his fingers wrapped around your neck and his hot tongue pushing into your mouth. That kiss alone made you incredibly wet.
You saved his number under “Boss (Private)” and stared at the texting icon. It would be so easy and besides, it's just a text. He couldn’t fuck you over phone anyway.
Hello, this is y/n.
Eager little girl. Texted me as soon as you came home?
Dumbfounded, your eyes analyzed his (instant) reply. 
Don’t worry, princess. Not judging you. Bet your pussy is still wet. My cock didn’t go soft either.
Excuse me? This is highly unprofessional.
No, me fucking you bend over your workdesk would be highly unprofessional. Answer me: Is your pussy still wet, little one?
You should've known that it would end up like this. You shouldn’t reply. You should tell him that this is inappropriate. Remind him that you are his secretary and some may deem this interaction as unethical and not to forget that you are years younger than him. Why was it so hard to stop though?
Yes, Mr. Sukuna.
From now on you call me daddy.
Yes, daddy.
The sudden ring of your phone shattered the atmosphere. Surprised, you glanced at the screen to see a Facetime call flashing urgently. Sukuna was calling you. The surprise sent a jolt of excitement coursing through your veins, igniting a fire within you. nervous anticipation fluttered in her chest like a caged bird. For a moment, uncertainty swirling in your mind. With a deep breath, you accepted the call, your heart pounding in your ears. The familiar face that greeted you was enough to send a surge of desire coursing through your body. Despite your nerves, the thrill of your virtual connection stirred something primal within you, heightening your senses and leaving you longing for more.
“Wish you could see your face right now. You look like a needy slut, princess”, Sukuna snickered. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way, exposing his upper-body. Your eyes widened in shock as you saw it. He had–
“Like my tattoos, huh?”
“I-I just didn’t know that you had any.”
Smirking his finger traced the black lines across his chest. His phone was probably leaning against something cause you could see almost everything up to his knees. Even the way he was sitting, his legs spread and a hand wide on his thigh, screamed dominance and sent shivers down your spine.
“Wanna see more of you, baby, put your phone somewhere. I need to see your face and what’s between your legs. Can you do that for daddy?”
Every bit of self-control and resistance left your body as soon as he called himself daddy. It’s no wonder that every woman and man wanted him buried deep inside their guts.
“Yes, daddy”, a simple good girl fell from his lips as he watched you propping your phone on the table in front of you against a water bottle. “Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect, princess. You’re such a good slut for daddy, aren’t you”, Sukuna’s hand, which was previously on his thigh, was now on his crotch, grabbing onto his hard on, “Undress, baby girl.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice. With a subtle yet deliberate motion, you reached behind your back, fingers deftly finding the tiny buttons that held your blouse together. With each successive button undone, the fabric began to loosen, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the soft skin beneath. As you slipped the blouse and bra off your shoulders, a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine, the cool air caressing your exposed flesh. In that moment, you felt an exhilarating rush of vulnerability, a silent declaration of self-assurance and desire. You weren’t going to stop now so you silently took your skirt off, wiggling it off your hips. The only thing you were wearing now was your thong.  And Sukuna’s eyes were sitting on you the whole time, taking in every little detail. Your trembling hands, your moles and freckles, everything.He could feel himself almost bursting through his pants. At first he wanted to make you beg to see his cock but he was hard ever since you crawled over to him. Swiftly he unzipped his pants, just to give his cock a bit more space.
"Obedient little slut. Look at you, just taking your clothes off, obeying my words. Makes me want to ruin you even more, little one.”
The plan to forever reject him and never succumb to him was already forgotten. How could you ever reject him when he gets your pussy this wet?
“...I’m your slut, daddy”, it was a mere whisper but Sukuna heard every word.
Growling he pulled his cock out of his boxers. It was massive. Sukuna spit in his hand before he wrapped his rough hand around his shaft. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets. His cock would destroy you, fill you up completely and turn you into a whimpering bitch in heat. YOu were certain of that.
“Come on, princess. Spread your legs for daddy, show me how wet your pretty pussy is”. His filthy mouth had you stifling a moan as you lifted one leg to rest against the back cushions of the chair and spread the other so that your foot rested on the floor. 
“Li-like this, daddy?” God, this was embarrassing and extremely hot at the same time. 
“Yes, baby, just like this”, he stroked his cock from tip to base, the other hand now palming his balls. “Now lick your fingers and rub that clit for daddy. Bet you wanted me to do that back at the bar, huh?”
You did as instructed, dragging the tips of your index and middle fingers across your tongue slowly before lowering them to your pussy, seeking your clit. Instantly your legs began to twitch – he was right, you wanted this all along.
“That’s it, little one. Fuck, imagine it being my tongue. I should’ve played with that sweet cunt after you crawled to my feet like the dirty slut you are.”
Breathy moans filled the air around you, your pussy clenching, yearning for something big to stuff it.
“Daddy…fuck, daddy”, Sukuna was still stroking his cock as he took in the alluring sight on his phone, “G-good…feels so good, Daddy.”
“Look at my cock, baby. I’m imagining that cute mouth wrapped around my fat dick. Like that, slut?”
“Yes, daddy, yes. I love it, daddy.”
His hand twisted around his tip, pre-cum leaking already. “Squeeze your tits, pinch your nipple,” he growled.  “That’s my fuckin’ teeth, slut. I can see your naughty pussy clenching through the screen. You need something in there, right? I should be pounding into that cunt, take what’s mine.”
“Please”, you started to beg, primal urges taking over you, “Please let me put a finger in, daddy.”
“Shove those fingers inside.  As many as you can fit. Tough it would never compare to me pushing my dick in that tight cunt of yours. You think you can take this cock, huh?”
Finally you pushed your fingers inside. Your pussy was wet enough that your fingers met no resistance at all. “Y-yours…yours is too big. Would break me.”
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. My cock would fucking break you, fuck you real good, make you my personal fucktoy. Look at me, slut!”
Sukuna was pumping his dick to the same speed as you were fingering your cunt. This was driving you insane. He demanded you to pick up the speed, both of you did.
“Keep fuckin’ that pussy.  Yeah, just like that.  Go faster.  Use your other hand – rub that clit again. Tell daddy how much you want his cock.”
“Want–Want daddy’s cock…I want daddy to–to fuck my slutty little pussy, please. Need daddy’s cock.”
Sukuna could feel his climax coming, his balls pulsating, something building up inside him. If only you were in front of him, begging for him to ram into you and choke you while you whimpered and cried for sweet, sweet release.
“How far are you, princess?”
You couldn’t reply with words, only strangled cries as you climbed higher.  You hooked your fingers to drag across your g-spot, fucking yourself so hard that the squelching sounds could probably be heard from beyond the door.  Your cunt contracted around my fingers once, hard.  “Ahh…cl–close, daddy.”
“Shit, me too,” he groaned.  “Fucking look at me when you cum, slut.”   Sukuna started stroking his cock faster and faster while he continued to massage his balls.  You swirled faster and harder as you pumped your fingers in and out of your wet cunt.  
“Oh fuck daddy!” you cried, rolling your eyes back to his face as you felt your muscles tense. 
“Good girl,” he breathed, looking directly into your eyes.  “Cum for me. Do it.”
And, then the tension and pressure released all at once, making you scream “daddy” as the waves rippled through your body.  Your cunt clenched your fingers rhythmically and you continued to finger yourself through the aftershocks.  
“Fuck – shit, here it comes!” Sukuna moaned seconds before thick white ropes of his cum spurted from his cock to land on his stomach as he bucked up into his hand roughly.  “Fucking finally.”
Moments later you were still panting as Sukuna gave you one last order before ending the call.
“Don’t wear any underwear tomorrow at work and come in early.”
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bby-deerling · 4 months
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floral & fading (law x reader nsfw)
18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.7k masterlist
a secret santa present for my lovely anie <3 @strawheart-pirate
cw: afab!reader, piv, rough sex, scratching, choking, hate sex kinda, law is bad with feelings, reader is also kinda bad with feelings, angst, bittersweet, hurt no comfort, you let this guy hit once and he's totally obsessed w/ you, strawhat!reader, messy relationship dynamics
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Law needs you desperately despite the fact he knows he cannot have you.
He hadn’t intended to get attached to you, not in the slightest.  Mind scattered, full of adrenaline, and buzzing with alcohol, he had meant for you to be nothing more than a late-night drunken distraction from the flood of emotions he felt after the events of Dressrosa.  Somewhere in the murky deep of the back of his mind, you had snuck in and sank your ragged claws into the sulci of his brain, to the point where he can barely close his eyes without picturing your mischievous smirk, or the contortions on your face as he fucked you, squeezing his tattooed hand around your throat.
For all intents and purposes, Law couldn’t stand you.  Brimming with intelligence and wit, you squandered your potential by wasting precious time goofing around with Luffy.  The strategic and combative skills you possess in battle make you an essential asset to your crew, but you were resistant to discussing any sort of long-term plan with him, insisting that wasn’t how Luffy rolled—it drove him crazy, and gave him the deep urge to break you until you finally relented and decided to use your mind properly like he wanted you to.
“Come on, Traffy!  Tell us who won!” you exclaim one day after a water gun fight, out of breath and nearly falling over as you slide along the wet deck in your flip flops, Luffy close behind you.
Law rolls his eyes and sighs, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading.  “How should I know?  I wasn’t paying attention to your nonsense.” he says in his usual dry monotone.
“Traffy, you were supposed to be watching us!” Luffy whines, putting his hands on his hips as he pouts.  Law ignores both of you, hoping you would eventually find another judge to determine the victor of your silly game; he thinks you’re finally discussing finding someone else to bother when you whisper something in Luffy’s ear that makes your Captain giggle maniacally.
“We decided to team up.” Luffy says proudly.  Law catches your grin in his peripherals, but continues to sit, eyes fixed on the pages in his lap, and ignores you, a mistake that would soon lead to his downfall. 
“So…You lose!” you shout with a grin.
With your words comes a stream of water straight to his face, followed by a second, less accurately aimed jet from Luffy that drenches his book and leaves Law fuming.  You keep that infuriating, mischievous grin plastered across your face, but he slightly smirks as he notices the way you swallow hard as he glares at you, a silent acknowledgment that you knew you were certainly in for it now.
“Shishishi—you’re in trouble with Traffy!  Not me though, I’m gettin’ away!” Luffy cackles, using his rubber arms to swing to the other side of the ship, leaving you to Law’s devices, and oh, did he have plans for you.  
Your idiocy had earned you a harsh quickie in the library, full of bites and dirty talk and nails dragging into his back.
“F-Fuck, Traffy—” you whimper as he bucks his hips harshly, filling you up so deeply his cock brushes against your cervix.
He yanks on your hair harshly and sinks his teeth into your neck, not caring in the slightest if he leaves marks on your precious, unblemished skin.  “Brat.  Say my name properly.” he hisses in your ear, wanting nothing more than to hear the word fall off your lips.
“Mmmf, ‘m sorry, Law…” you whine, tilting your head towards him to give him more access to your neck.  Law—hearing you drop the nickname and letting his real name drip off your tongue drives him wild and makes him drive his cock into you even harder as he bites and sucks along the column of your neck.  The familiarity and intimacy of it—even though it’s entirely manufactured, and he would never dream of displaying a similar vulnerability and dropping the -ya­ from your name—allows him to pretend you care more than you do.  It lets him pretend you care as much as he does.
“You better be.” he whispers, roughly clawing at your back with his jagged nails.  He wanted a string of apologies out of you before he was done—he’d already coaxed one out of you for spraying him in the face with the water gun, but burrowing your way under his skin and refusing to evacuate was the much more severe crime at hand, one with a sentence that ended up benefiting you both physically, but left him in a mental state even more frazzled and unfocused than before.
Irrationality began to cloud his judgement even more so as time went on, and he insists on you being in the group he brings to Wano with him.  Having you on the Polar Tang, even for a short time, is intoxicating to him—with the temptation of having you so close overpowering him, he finds himself uncharacteristically taking breaks from his work to use you for stress-relief.  He tells himself that’s all it is despite the fact he knows it’s a weak lie.  You’ve deciphered his feelings by this point; he can see it written on your face, though you cautiously say nothing.  Instead, you hang around after your unsavory activities, following him around the submarine and staying up late at his side, curiously and gently prying at aspects of himself that he thought he had locked away for good.  He’s furious at you for the way you’re able to unravel him, ripping him open emotionally just as he tears at your insides physically, and he takes his frustrations out on you accordingly.  However, you never seem to mind, and take all he gives you in strides; he’s mean, nasty, and rough with you in bed, but no matter how hard he tries to keep control, there’s a glint in your eyes that says you’re the one with the real power—you’re the one who can get the Surgeon of Death to snap and succumb to his base urges, and it enthralls you, much to his continued frustration.
He finds himself obsessing over you so deeply that he makes every excuse to keep you apart from your crewmates until the rest arrived with Sanji in tow.  He gives you a cover story to keep you close to him and continues his façade of this simply being sex to him, though you both know it’s more at this point.
“I like you, Law. I've gotten attached.” you said one night, words nearly drowned out by the chorus of cicadas hissing in the distance.
You were curled into his side, fingers tracing along his chest tattoos; it’s a rare moment where he lets you to show him affection like this, and your confession makes him deeply regret allowing you this luxury.  Despite the way your presence makes his heart contort and twist, despite all the hoops he’s jumped through to keep you close to him, and despite the fact that if he keeps his feelings bottled up for too much longer, he may never get the chance to vocalize them, he remains stubborn, letting a painful silence emanate into the night.
“It’s silly of me, I know, but I can’t help it.” you whisper, flinching at the way your voice cracks in the process. 
At times, Law saw you as obnoxious and silly, but you were also clever, compassionate, understanding, and strong, especially as you withstand all of his erratic mood swings as he sorts out his feelings for you—that’s why it cuts him to the bone when he causes you pain like this.
“Neither can I.” he whispers, unable to hold his sentiments back any longer.  He feels a touch lighter, but is not surprised when the melancholy resting between the two of you remains hanging in the air, coating you like a blanket.  After all, this could not and would not last forever, and once this alliance ends, the only glimpse he may ever get of you again might be on your wanted poster.
When all of the business in Wano ends, he has half the mind to take you for himself—to make you his and refuse to let go no matter how much Luffy begged him to release you, but he knows you would never leave your friends and go with him willingly.  Maybe that’s what infuriates him most—no matter how intimate and soft your half-lidded stare is while he fucks the daylights out of you, you would always love the sea, freedom, and your stupid antics with your crew more than him.  No amount of late-night conversations, full of hesitant divulgences and barriers broken, and no amount of physical contact would ever permanently tie you together, despite how much he wished that wasn’t the case.
Law knows this is the last time he’ll have you beneath him, close to him, and vulnerable for him, but he can’t bring himself to be gentle, overwhelmed by the violent storm in his chest.  Laid out and panting, your fingers curl into the sheets beneath you as his skilled fingers work magic on your clit.  Just as your thighs begin to twitch, he pulls his hand away, delighting in the way you whine and plead with him in frustration.  Inked fingers roughly squeeze the sides of your windpipe, making you squeak for him.
“You didn’t think I’d let you have it this easy, did you?” he taunts, using his other hand to grip your chin, smirking as he hovers over you before planting his lips onto yours.  Heated, deep, and full of longing on both sides, the kiss is enough to nearly pull his heart apart in two.  He takes great care to memorize the drag of your lips against his, the way the plush skin of your hips feels in his grasp, and the grip of your walls against him as his cock slides deep inside of you.
If this is the last time Law is going to have you, he is intent on drawing it out as long as he possibly can before he lets you go.  He just wishes things didn’t have to end this way.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 months
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୨୧ ʝαɯႦɾҽαƙҽɾ (σɳҽ) ୨୧
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୨୧ Pairings: rich boy!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!choi san x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!hongjoong x chubby!fem!reader, mentions of yunho
୨୧ Genre: graduate school au/smut/angst/a lil fluffy
୨୧ Summary: It was never your intention to infiltrate one of the most exclusive social circles at your new university, seducing rich boys to get who and what you want. Wait, no, it was.
୨୧ Word Count: 1.7k-ish
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୨୧ Warnings: reader's in her villain era, demon line are wealthy low key villains too, strong language, some dom demon line/sub reader dynamics, you sleep with everyone darling, oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing, pet names (good girl), obsession, probably a praise kink (who am I kidding? it's for sure a theme), jealousy/light possessiveness, sugar baby origins, unprotected sex, a lil drop of rough sex, marking, fingering, mention of multiple orgasms, public spicy stuff, light choking, scratching, nibbling, dry humping, & that's it, babes.
୨୧ A/N: This baby has sorta just been chilling in the drafts cause I kinda get nervous to post sometimes but I'm gonna let her be free now. This one focuses on Hwa moreso but Joong and San will get their time too. Yunho's also a part of this, just not quite yet. So, yes, I hope you like it!
୨୧ Part Two is Here ୨୧
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Observe a weekly study session held by three best friends. It takes place every Sunday, almost ritualistically so, at 3:00pm sharp in the apartment of ringleader Kim Hongjoong. Situated at the top floor of an old university office turned luxury apartment building, it has a vintage charm to it that somehow makes it feel more absurdly expensive than it already is. 
Observe that, despite their long held agreement that this is a “study” session, no one’s actually studying. Not Choi San lounging in the brown Italian leather chair, mindlessly chewing on one of the legs of his round rimmed glasses when he should be wearing them instead. 
Not Hongjoong painstakingly rearranging the shoes by the door. Seonghwa’s black Dior Oxfords can’t go near Hongjoong’s custom leather Prada sneakers. They are custom after all. 
Not Seonghwa who’s leaning by the window doodling on the crisp pages of his $200 copy of the Netter Atlas of Human Anatomy, an act that would be blasphemous to someone like him on any other day.
But no one’s doing anything they’d do on a normal day because this isn’t a normal day. They’re distracted, unable to peel their minds free from the events of last night and it’s all your fault. 
Staring down at the space between his legs, San can only think about the fact that you were there. You, the new girl with your pretty face and soft cheeks. Cheeks that were even softer as he gently cupped them, pressing the tip of his cock to the back of your throat.
The way that you whimpered, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth, is etched into his memory. If he could rewind time he’d do it over and over just to hear those same whimpers muffled by his cum filling your cheeks. You swallowed him so well, not spilling a drop.
“Such a good girl” he’d whispered, petting your hair as your head lay in his lap. Such a good, good girl. 
By the window, Seonghwa’s still sketching away. The level of intensity and focus on his face does wonders to make it appear as if the motion of his hand has even a shred of intent behind it. None of it means anything, just a half hearted attempt at busying a brain that keeps reminding him how he fucked you against the very window he leans upon. This exact spot actually. 
You, with your plush body and sweet voice had begged, as his lips met yours, “Please don’t stop.” It was pure bliss to have your nails digging into his forearms, the walls of your deliciously warm pussy clenching around him.
You were wet enough that your thighs were almost too slippery to grip when he parted them to sink in deeper. No girl has ever been that needy for him before, so desperate to be ruined by him. Fuck, he wants to ruin you. 
“I need a drink” Hongjoong huffs, rushing off to the kitchen. Drinking’s never been something he’s just done. He considers self medication through alcohol to be silly but what else is he meant to do? He needs something to overwhelm his palate and kill the nagging craving to taste you on his tongue.
You, with your bright eyes and innocent smile, had hopped your cute ass on the counter and let him drink from your pussy until he saw stars. How adorable you’d been, kicking your feet each time his tongue stimulated your sensitive clit, his fingers teasing your sweet spot. “One more for me” he cooed and you gave him exactly what he wanted. More.
It’s all any of them want now. More, more, more. They made a promise to each other that what happened last night could only ever happen again if you were all together. The four of you. Not three. Certainly not two. The boys would do with you what best friends do with all things, share, but sharing’s much easier said than done when you don’t truly want to. 
Seonghwa slams his book shut, snapping back to reality at a speed too dizzying for the others. “I need to go” Seonghwa announces, scrambling to shove his things into his bag. San sits up in the chair, popping his glasses back on.
“Go? Where are you going?”
“I, uh, I have to go look for something. I’ll see you guys later.”
Hongjoong steps back into the living room just in time to hear the door slam as Seonghwa exits. “Where’s he off to?” A question with only one logical answer that pisses San off the second it dawns on him.
“Where do you think?”
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The scholarships aren’t nearly enough. They were enough to get you here but being able to stay? That’s a different story. And so you find yourself here on a Sunday evening, picking up hours at the university’s library to make some extra money.
It’s a grueling schedule. Weekdays waitressing at a five star restaurant, weekends at the library, and every waking hour outside of that spent with your face buried in your books. Well, almost every waking hour. Lately you’ve managed to find time for other things.
Wheeling a cart full of books down one of the aisles, you nearly run over some girl’s feet. “Hey, watch it!” she shouts, shooting you a look that says she wants to tear your head off. “I’m really sorry” you apologize, slinking to the side to let her squeeze past.
“These shoes cost more than your rent, you know that?” she spits before storming off in the other direction.
Everyone’s like that here, always throwing their money in your face. Mommy and daddy’s money anyway. You don’t have what they do, it’s like they can smell it on you, and they’ll never let you forget it. “These shoes cost more than your rent, you know that?” you mock, picking up a book to slip onto one of the shelves. “They’re fucking hideous anyway.” 
“Uh, hey, everything okay?” a voice asks from behind you. You jump, nearly tripping over one of the cart’s wheels. Seonghwa grabs you by the arm before you lose your footing. Your knight in shining armor. Well, a cardigan really but close enough, right?
“Oh my god, Seonghwa. You can’t sneak up on me like that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”
“It’s a library” he laughs, straightening out your shirt, “I thought we were supposed to be quiet.”
“Not that quiet! What are you doing here anyway?”
That came out a bit harsher than you intended. Thankfully Seonghwa finds it cute when you’re sassy. “Yunho told me you work here on weekends and I thought…I wanted to see you.” “See me?” you ask, the book now clutched in your arms like a stuffed animal.
Seonghwa moves between you and the cart, pinning you against one of the shelves. This position feels familiar, a flash of heat rushing over your body and settling between your legs. Seonghwa toys with the hem of your short skirt, his knuckles brushing your exposed thigh.
“Do you like it?”
“Hmm?”
“Working two jobs. Do you like it?”
“Honestly, I hate it.” You draw in a sharp breath when his fingertips touch the marks he left behind on you last night. Sneaking both hands beneath your skirt, he traces your hips, relishing in the fullness of them.
Your thighs part and he carefully eases his knee between them, the moist cotton of your panties all that separates your aching core from his slacks. Seonghwa leans in to nibble at your bottom lip, “Then quit.” “Hwa, you know I can’t, ah…” you squeak, the book tumbling to the ground as he slowly grinds you along his leg.
He kisses you tenderly, angling you forward to stimulate your clit in just the right way. Seonghwa can already feel you soaking through his pants. You get wet so easily for him and it eats away at his self control. “Quit” he repeats, “I can get you a job at one of my father’s offices. His secretaries there don’t really do anything. You can kind of just sit there and be pretty. I know you can do that.”
Letting go of your waist, he pulls back enough to watch how perfectly your tits sit as you ride his thigh. “Look at you, doing so well already.” 
The quiet one. That’s how Yunho described Seonghwa before you met him. He’s quiet but no more innocent than the others are. Never let that innocent exterior fool you, he has a switch and when it flips he’s someone you won’t even recognize.
That switch, you can see it flipping on and off. His eyes bright with admiration one second and darkening with lust the next. There’s something dangerous about him but you aren’t exactly harmless now, are you? 
“You’d do that for me?” you ask, taking his hand and pressing it to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, taking his thumb between your lips. “Of course I would. I’d…” he loses his train of thought as you start sucking his thumb, the rhythm of your hips picking up speed.
“Anything you want.”
You can feel his pulse quickening. See his face taking on a pink hue. Your breathing grows shallow, the tension building in your core making your body shudder. “So close” you whine, running his hand down to your neck, “I want you to make me cum.” 
Anything you want. Anything for you. Seonghwa holds you by the neck, his other hand slipping into your panties. “Cum for me then like a good girl. Like my good girl.”
There’s a chance someone could hear you. Between the splashing of his fingers in your juices and the moans that spill out from your lips onto his, there’s more than enough noise to draw a little attention. That’s what makes it hotter. What has his cock straining against his pants and your eyes glossing over as the tension finally snaps.
Ruin you, that’s what he wanted to do, and look at you now, coming undone so wonderfully. How can he be anything short of obsessed with you? 
“So gorgeous when you’re falling apart.”
“Only when I’m falling apart?” you ask, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. Seonghwa wraps an arm around your waist, kissing you on the forehead.
“No,” he sighs, “And I think that might be the death of me.”
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dragonsholygrail · 3 months
Text
Brighter Than The Sun
Astarion x gn!Reader
a/n: I have no idea if this was a prompt I saw somewhere or if this was completely out of my brain, the idea was from months ago and I finally got around to writing it.
summary: With the parasite no longer in your brains, Astarion can no longer go into the sun. You try everything you can think of to help him experience the same heat but with no luck. Until you think to use yourself as a means for Astarion to feel the suns warmth once more.
word count: 1.7k
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From the shadows he watches you, his red eyes almost gleaming and noticeable through the darkness. He stands behind the door, watching you, waiting for you… He needs you and yet he knows you need to stay away, if only for a little while longer. Long enough to get what he wants.
Astarion stands behind the door of the home you two share together in Baldur's Gate. With the parasite long gone and his ascension a trickle of a memory, Astarion has long since been unable to walk in the sun. It spurns him once more as if his mask had been unveiled and even the sun could see what he truly was. While on the other hand, darkness has greeted him back like an old friend and he remains cursing it.
More than anything he yearns to once more see the color in the world, to feel its warmth on his cold skin. But even after years of searching, he feels as though you two aren’t any closer to finding a cure, from ridding him of the curse forced upon him so long ago. Even so, his mind stays focused on the task and it touches him deeply that it remains in yours as well.
Which is what has brought along today’s events. When reality had first set in, Astarion couldn’t ever explain the despair he felt toward never being able to feel the sun’s warmth again. But he didn’t have to explain. He knew you understood, he knew you saw him for all he was. You have for probably much longer than he gave you credit for. Always the one to try and fix things, Astarion wasn’t surprised when you tried thinking of clever ways he’d be able to feel the sunlight again. You had tried creating the hottest of fires and yet it didn’t feel the same. Nothing ever felt the same. Astarion had given up and urged you to do the same. He should’ve known you well enough by now to know that wasn’t something you were capable of.
So this morning when you began guiding him toward the door, Astarion briefly questioned if he was being led to his demise. If you had finally gotten tired of him and decided to end it all. Of course you hadn’t. Wouldn’t. Who’d ever get tired of him, after all… He only resisted briefly until you ended up explaining your entire plan to him. To have you stand in the sun and then shut the door and hug him. So that way, he may once again feel the heat of the sun against warm flesh.
Astarion’s heart swelled, lips parted as he struggled to react and while he still couldn’t quite express his gratitude and affections out loud, he knew he could show you them through his actions and it would always mean just as much. He may have thought the plan ridiculous, silly even, but it was your attempt that moved him. The way you never gave up on him. Now here you two are, you out in the sun as he lurks in the depths of the shadows. Astarion’s lips part as he watches you bask in the sunlight's rays, your eyes closed and a soft smile on your face.
Whilst always beautiful, Astarion remains even more assured that you are most beautiful in the sun. His feelings toward you both similar in the weight you hold in his heart. His eyes trial over your form, looking on as the sunlight highlights your complexion, the sun shimmering across your skin. The way it flickers off of you, making you appear even more brighter and full of life. Astarion watches it all, his attentions never having been more focused. He couldn’t dare look away from you and miss a moment of this.
You were so close and yet so far and as Astarion looked upon your beauty, memories from before starts flooding through his mind of him out there with you. Astarion couldn’t help but step forward, reaching out to you. He didn’t think, too caught up in how much he wanted you near. Not because of the sun but simply because you were you.
As his hand falls into a faint sliver of sun, instead of the comforting warmth he has shamefully become accustomed to, the familiar burning radiates across his skin. The sound of his skin sizzling rang in the quiet air and instead of peace the sun now brings panic, causing Astarion to release a high-pitched hiss. You jump, opening your eyes and looking over at him as Astarion quickly draws his hand back. You take a step to him but he uses that same hand to motion for you to stop.
“No! Don’t come closer. Just stay out there… for a little while longer,” Astarion pleads, brows furrowing deeply. It wasn’t until this moment, this instant where he’s reminded of the pain the sun has the power to inflict upon him, that he thinks your once silly idea may actually be important.
“Astarion-“ You try, tilting your head, eyes on his crackling hand that already starts to heal itself. But it’s one shake from his head that has you quieting. The softness in his gaze that has you stopping from stepping into his darkness. You look over him before giving a tentative nod. Your body turns back toward the sun within the space of the open door, but your eyes occasionally flicker over to him.
His fingers press into the flesh as it returns to its original smooth texture, the only trace of it being the faint throbbing that was already starting to fade too. As Astarion stares at you as you stand in the one place he could not reach you, despair flowers in his chest like a plague. You two are so different. While dealing with the parasite, while able to walk into the sun, Astarion could simply ignore it, not think about it because there were so many other important things to think about. Could push their differences aside in order to use you, then eventually love you.
But all that was gone now. You could walk in the day while he was stuck in the shadows. Even while only inches away, to Asatrion, it was like he could see an invisible barrier set between you both. A force that stops him from being with you, touching you. Something he could never cross so long as he was like this— a vampire spawn.
He was not good for you, he knew. All this time, Astarion allowed himself to be greedy, convinced himself that you need him as much as he needs you. But his love was doing exactly what the dark was doing to him. Trapping you. He was sure that if your heart wasn’t so big, you’d be out in the sun more often. Like you deserved.
Then you did the most peculiar thing. In a flash, you were closing the door, objecting yourself to the dark, and you reach for him. One hand wrapping around his waist as the other grips the nape of his neck. Both use their strength to pull him into you. Before Astarion can process what’s happening, you’re hugging him.
Warmth radiates off your skin and spreads over his. You guide Astarion’s head into your neck, letting him feel all the heat the sun left on you. Now, after this time being with him, Astarion doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. His arms wrap around you firmly as he exhales a shaky breath.
“I could feel you thinking from all the way over there,” your smooth voice washes over him, making warmth spread within him as well as across his body. He burrows closer to you, soaking up everything your skin was offering. He could imagine the fierce sun and how it must have felt upon first contact. But somehow, when it was you providing it instead of the sun, it was better. So much better.
He finally had you in his arms and the fog that moments prior were tormenting him now clear away. As you imply, he was thinking too much. He was spiraling and second guessing himself and even worse, you. He knows that you would never truly do something you didn’t want. You wouldn’t be with him unless it’s what you wanted. He didn’t have the power to trap you and he would never want it. While he can’t deny your differences, he also can’t say they’re a bad thing. He likes that you’re not the same person. Although, Astarion would dare say he’d make a lovely suitor for himself if the chance arose.
“What ever are you talking about, darling?” Releasing a light-hearted chuckle along with the question. Astarion’s hand brushes along your neck as well, the skin feeling even warmer here. Everything in him tells him to hide his feelings, to brush them aside and offer a short quip. While he knows he’ll end up telling you everything later, right now he can’t help but evade the vulnerability that was controlling him.
“Oh, I must be seeing things, then,” you tease right back, understanding Astarion and playing along with it. Astarion closes his eyes, gratefulness filling his body and pouring out in his physical contact with you.
“Hmm, must get that checked out,” he shoots back, not able to stop the words from slipping out of his mouth. You both end up laughing together and the peace that spreads through the atmosphere around you two reminds him why he never ends up keeping anything from you anymore. He learned his lesson once before.
The two of you fall into a peaceful silence as you remain hugging in the darkness. Your skin quickly grows colder again, losing what your time in the sun left you with. Even so, neither of you step away from the hug.
“You know, out of all the ways you’ve attempted to give me back sunlight, I have to say, this is by far my favorite,” Astarion admits, moving to rest his forehead against yours. The warmth he feels with you blazes hotter than any sun could ever supply him. He hears as your heart picks up and your neck once again becomes warmer than the rest of your body. Astarion does not hold back his grin, informing you of his awareness, yet remains still as he enjoys what he can get.
Astarion keeps you close as he realizes that any lack of sun is worth it when he gets moments like this in return.
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1800jjbarnes · 9 months
Text
𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬
【Synopsis】 : You were the youngest of three princesses, and your parents were being paid off from another kingdom in order to marry the cruel, cold king. But the upside, he doesn't seem so cruel...ish
『Word count』 :  1.7k
-> Genre: Suggestive, Fluff, Angst. Royal Au.   
Paring: King!Bucky x Queen!Reader   
[Warnings] : Steve touching Readers Thigh to rile up Bucky. Mentions about past, fingering, making out, pet names. Use of the name slut. Dom Possessive Bucky with a side of Bratty Reader.
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It was only the biggest event in the history of the kingdom. The lonely prince that became king from a tragic event, James Buchanan Barnes, finally is wedded. His uncle finally persuaded him to get married. Married for money, that is. James still remembers when his mother would tell him stories about finding his true love as she did with his father. The love was unbreakable and unconditional. But time caught up, love became a myth, and James was alone. That was until he saw you. You were like an angel amongst men, as cheesy as that might sound. You were perfect, and then you were with him. But not the way he wanted you. He wanted to court you first, swoon you, pick you up off your feet. Have real love, but an arranged marriage doesn’t really scream true love.
So here he sat, on one of the garden chairs, watching as his brothers. Well, his knights that serve under his court. A bond fire blazing, wine, and food arrayed over the large marble table. James ordered for no one to bother him or his knights while they were out, leaving him in peace and quiet for a moment. You, his wife, sat on your chair, alone, away from everyone, watching the knights dance and sing. He watched you from afar, his heart was beating so fast, he wanted to get to know you, to really love you. But you definitely weren’t happy about the marriage, then again, you weren’t happy with your life in general.
Your kingdom was small but had power. Your parents were strict, rude, and cruel. They didn’t care about anything but the kingdom. You were the youngest of three, so you were never going to be queen in your kingdom. But that made you happy. You wanted to run away, live in the woods, be free, and being the youngest made that possible. That was until your parents sold you, so your kingdom could grow. You hated James because he agreed. You hated James because even despite all the weeks you’ve spent as his wife, you were falling in love with him. His smile, his charm, the way he would do anything to please you even if he doesn’t directly say it or do anything.
But you still hated him, and for that, so you sit alone, watching all the boys have their fun. Steve was the first to move away from the group, taking a seat down next to you. You could smell the moonshine on his breath. His smile was gloriously plastered on his face. You smiled back as he picked up a conversation. You were vaguely listening though, as you catch your eyes on Bucky. He was staring directly at you and the flirtatious male that sits beside you. You turn your attention completely on Steve, touching his shoulder, giggling at his stories, giving James a show.
His hand landed on your thigh. It was merely innocent, but to James, it was like Steve just declared war. You continued this array of flirts and quiet whispers, making sure to glance over at Bucky every now and again. He was furious, holding his drink tight in his grip. His knuckles turn white, and his strength gets the better of him, shattering the glass in his grip. Silence fell seeing the glass everywhere.
“Y/n…” His voice was low, filled with anger. You’ve never heard him like this before, and it turned you on. But you stayed strong, not moving an inch from your spot. The others, however, moved away from you quickly, standing behind the king. Even if they were brothers and Bucky treated them like equals, they knew not to get in his way when he was mad.
“Y/n….Now!” He stormed past you towards the garden entrance back into the castle. You gulped, maybe you went over the edge. But you were here now. So you got up from your spot and quickly left the knights without a goodbye. Since spending your time exploring the estate, you already knew where James would be. Coming face to the dark spruce door, you knock before entering. You see the fireplace was lit. The room was warm from the flame. He sat on the deep blue velvet couch, sipping a neat glass of scotch.
“Your grace…” You whisper, stepping closer.
“I’ve told you before, call me James. I’m your husband, not some god for you to worship…” He spat out the last bit of his sentence, feeling tired of people grovelling at his feet.
“But you are my King, James.” Your words hit him straight in the gut, making him have a low growl. You sat down on the end of the couch, leaning against the arm of it. You place your legs up, feeling the velvet on the souls of your feet. He watches you like you were his prey, placing his glass down, he chuckles lightly.
“I’d watch what you say, doll face. You’re on thin ice after the stunt you pulled tonight.” His eyes were red, filled with rage, or was it desire?
“Ah My lord got his panties in a twist because he’s not getting his way.” You giggled, slipping off your shall that sat on your shoulders, no longer needing it to keep warm. He clicks his tongue before grabbing your ankle, yanking you towards him. You yelp as he situates you on his lap, gripping tight on your ass under your loose nightdress.
“You don’t want to piss me off, my Queen. I don’t think you’ll like me when I’m mad.” He grunts, his lips, mere inches from yours. You feel his breath pool on your skin, shivering at his touch. Butterflies burst in your tummy, forcing a whimper to spill from your mouth.
“Oh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I can feel your body burning. My, My, you’re just a slut. A brat needing to be put in her place.” He grunted, feeling your hips slide long his clothed crotch. He bites your ear, licking your hot skin down your jaw to your neck. A gasp leaves you as he roughly bites on your flesh, leaving a hot, red mark. You grip his shoulders as his arms snake around your waist, trapping you on him. Your hips move faster, and the need to feel pleasure tugging with great force.
“J-James…” You mewled, gripping the fabric.
“I thought it was Lord? Or King? Where did my Bratty doll go?” He chuckled, pleased with how obedient you’ve become from only just a small amount of pleasure.
“Bucky…” You replied, whimpering. He gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks before letting them go to give it a hard slap.
“Oooh Bucky? That’s a new one.” He laughed, sounding like he mocked you. His hand lifted up your dress completely, exposing your bottom half. Your skin prickled at the air, hitting it while his hands massaged the flesh. His mouth attached to your neck again, falling down to the top of your exposed breast, leaving marks to contrast your skin.
One of his hands glide up your thigh until it sat in between your bodies. His long fingers, press down on your clit through your panties, making you whimper. He chuckled as he rubs circles, feeling a wet patch growing on the pink lace.
Before he continued, you sat up, placing your hands on his chest. Looking into his eyes, he looked up at you. You looked so vulnerable, so innocent, so….sad… He suddenly felt guilt, placing his hand that sat on your ass to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb over your lips. You lent into his touch, feeling safe with him. Your past was filled with lies, hatred, and yet the minute you were forced to be married to someone you didn’t even know. It was the happiest day of your life.
“I-…I do love you, James.” You spoke up, making him wide-eyed. “The moment I saw you I knew you were kind, loving…I might not have wanted to marry you at first, but I don’t regret it…” This was the first time you had a conversation about your marriage with him. Normally, you both brushed off the conversation, not wanting to make each other uncomfortable. He let out a sigh, dropping his hand from your cheek, leaning his head back on the couch before sitting up to look at you again.
“I feared you’d hate me for what we went through…..” His voice became soft, no longer the grunt, gravel that it was prior, “You are the most caring person I’ve ever met, I didn’t nor do I ever want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me.” You placed your hands on either side of his face, looking at him with a slight panic. He could see the stars in your eyes up close when he could only look afar. This made him smile, feeling a sense of relief. You lent your forehead on his, closing your eyes. He rubbed his nose against yours, feeling comfort in the silence.
���Can I kiss you?” He asked, whispering so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. You replied with a soft yes, feeling a tear fall along your cheek. His lips slotted with yours, the hot pink flesh fitting perfectly together. This is the first time you’ve kissed one another, not even sharing a kiss on your wedding day. He sighs into your lips, feeling all the tension, all this hatred for his life, all the sadness, washing away from just a kiss. His world seemed so much brighter, the love that his mother would talk about finally finding its way back. You were the one to break the kiss, grabbing air as you pulled away. A smile left on his face as looked at you with adoring eyes.
“Just so you know…” His voice was soft, but hidden with lust, leaning forward to your ear he whispered, “You’re still getting punished for what you did tonight.”
And like that, he lifted you up, carrying you to his bed, keeping to his promise.
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roosterr · 8 months
Text
white flag ✹ interlude
note: this chapter is a lil shorter than usual, I just wanted to include a lil bonding moment for reader and ghost before the events of next chapter :)
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pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 1.7k
no use of y/n reader's callsign is 'stingray'
summary: you and ghost go people watching in the local park, plus a little heart to heart
warnings: just some much needed fluff :)
ao3
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one warm shower and a couple of ibuprofen later, you're feeling mostly human again with a manageable headache and a reasonable amount of regret for how pathetic you’d acted. with time you’d get over that, especially now that ghost had finally seen the light and started treating you with some decency. admittedly though, his change in attitude threw you off earlier; you were bracing for a stern lecture and he essentially brushed it off as though it didn't matter, but you’ve decided not to dwell on that fact.
small victories, as they say.
for the very first time, the pair of you were both sitting across from each other at the tiny kitchen table, in your own worlds; the radio was faintly playing some classic rock station in the background as ghost had his nose in his book and you played some mindless game on your phone. you’d honestly prefer to be reading a good book too, but your collection was currently ash in the wind, so this would have to do.
you're tempted to try starting a conversation, the quiet was giving you far too much room to think, but on the other hand the atmosphere is so peaceful it would be a shame to ruin it.
so you set your phone down on the table and turn your eyes to ghost, watching him scan the pages, his head tilted slightly in concentration. he's washed most of the paint from around his eyes – that was probably done yesterday, not that you noticed – so only a few smudges mark his skin. with the black paint gone, you notice the raised bumps of old scars around his eyes, something you'd never paid much attention to before. you know better than to ask, but you do wonder, in the back of your mind, the stories behind all of them. examining them gives you inexplicable urge to run your fingers over them, to soothe the ache having so many of them must cause.
his dark eyes are like black holes, drawing in your attention and refusing to let you escape their grasp. you're vaguely aware of how long you've been staring at his face, but you don't care to snap yourself out of it until he speaks up.
"what?" he grumbles, not bothering to look up from the page. you quickly look away, down to where your hands idly fiddle with your phone on the table.
"question."
"hm?" he hums in acknowledgement, but still doesn't look at you. normally you'd give up at this point, assuming he was completely uninterested in what you had to say, but this time you decide to push your luck.
"you fancy a walk to the park?"
finally, he meets your eyes, looking up through his light eyelashes and blinking once as he contemplates his answer. you resist the urge to break eye contact as he stares right through you.
"...alright." he says, wedging his bookmark between the pages and sets the book down on the table.
you weren't expecting him to say yes, but you're pleasantly surprised that he did; it felt slightly surreal that after all this time, you were finally becoming friends with ghost. your eyes follow him as he stands, leaving the room to, presumably, change his mask while you sit there with a bewildered look on your face.
a minute or so passes before you hear his voice again. "you comin'?" he calls from the entryway, bringing you back to the present.
"oh– yeah, one second!" you jump up from your chair and rush to get ready as well. the grin you wore as you rushed past him to fetch your jacket was unconscious, the feeling lighting up your features and overshadowing and lingering thoughts from the night before.
a few moments later you're tugging your boots on and you're both walking out the door together, side by side. for once it's actually a nice day, so the short walk to the park is a pleasant one under the blue sky and warm sunlight.
"sorry again, for last night. i think that's gonna haunt me for the rest of my life." you look over to ghost with an apologetic expression, and you can't help but feel that the expression he gives back is one of amusement despite not being able to see half his face.
"that's twice you've screamed at me now." he says, keeping pace with you for a change rather than marching ahead as he usually does.
"i didn't scream at you!" you attempt to defend yourself, but thinking back on it you change your mind. "alright, the second time maybe i did,"
"maybe."
"but the first time, i was very collected." you continue. "it was quite satisfying, to be honest."
"i suppose i deserved it." his gaze falls to the ground and, even though he's right – he did deserve it – you do feel a little bad.
"seriously, though," you continue, "thank you, for looking after me last night. you didn't have to, and i know you didn't want to, but i really appreciate it."
"anyone would'a done the same…" he mutters, bringing a hand up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. you get the feeling he's not used to people showing their appreciation for him, which only encourages you to carry on.
"and thanks for taking me in, i know having some random idiot in your house is the last thing you want." you give him a warm smile as he looks at you from the corner of his eye.
"well, you're not just any idiot, are you?" he says, earning a questioning tilt of your head. "you're sting. the idiot."
a genuine laugh escapes you, the first one in a long time, and you gently nudge ghost's arm with your elbow.
"oh, lovely, thanks mate." you chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. you see his eyes lift in a barely noticeable smile, the sight causing a warm feeling to bloom in your chest.
you arrive at the park fairly quickly, finding yourselves an out of the way bench to occupy under the partial shade of a nearby oak tree. you're enveloped by a comfortable silence as you both simply observe the beauty of nature and bask in the feeling of the sun on your face.
you're not sure how long the two of you sit there in each other's company, but you find yourself subconsciously drifting closer to him, close enough that your knees just about touch. you're sure he notices – there isn't much that gets by him – but he doesn't show it.
"did you hear they figured out how the fire started?" you keep your voice low to preserve the peaceful quiet, turning your head to look at him as you ask.
"oh yeah? how?"
"ugh…" you groan with the annoyance the memory bring up. "my stupid neighbour left a fucking candle burning all night, the twat."
"what a fuckin' idiot…" he glances briefly in your direction, a sympathetic frown on his face.
"i can never look at candles the same way again, they're tainted now." you drag a hand over your face and shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.
there's another pause in the conversation as you stare ahead, watching the trees sway in the breeze and all the people going about their lives, everything cast in a golden glow from sun.
you don't want it to end, the way the two of you are now. this is the most you've ever spoken to echother, outside of arguments, and you really want to make the most of it.
"nice weather today, right?" you try to keep him talking to you, and you're considering the fact that he hasn't told you to shut up yet as a good sign.
"hm." ghost hums and leans his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. "you gonna ask me what my favourite colour is again?"
"c'mon, throw me a bone here." you turn your body to face him more. "actually what is it, though?"
"...green."
"i knew it!" you exclaim, a triumphant grin pulling at your lips. "it makes sense, you just have 'dark green' vibes."
"i'll take your word for it."
it's difficult to know what to talk about with him, seeing as you've never actually been friendly before and you've already used the only small talk question you could think of.
"hmm…" your eyes roam over the park, looking for something to give you an idea. eventually you land on a scrappy little white dog, with possibly the worst haircut you've ever seen. "look at that woman's dog," you point it out to ghost, snickering at the way it was resisting its owner as she pulled it along. "i feel bad for the little guy."
"is that a dog? thought it was an oversized rat."
"oh my god!" you snort a laugh, covering your mouth with a hand and throwing your head back. you hear ghost chuckle lightly beside you, and when you turn your head to look back at him you find him already looking at you.
all other thoughts leave your mind when you see how his eyes glow a golden colour in the light of the sun. you feel the tips of your ears heating up and quickly face forward again before he has a chance to notice.
luckily another distraction presents itself almost immediately, in the form of a well-dressed office worker sprinting past you at full speed.
"wow," you mutter, your eyes following him as he disappears around a bend in the path, "he's not hangin' about."
"maybe he left a candle burnin'." ghost looks back to you, a playful glint in his eyes you're not sure you've ever seen on him.
you can't help the grin that pulls at your lips at his terrible joke. "aw, ghost," you groan, gently shoving him as he chuckles at your reaction, "you're wrong for that one."
ghost slouches into the bench as you both look back out across the park, shifting so his thigh presses against yours ever so slightly. you're careful not to react, afraid that he'd pull away if you draw attention to the gesture, and resolve to just enjoy the rare closeness of his presence.
eventually you'd have to head back, but for now you were more than content to sit here and watch the world go by with him.
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taglist: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling
if your name is crossed out, it means i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry! ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ
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back2bluesidex · 9 months
Text
Monitoring Duty - JJK
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Pairing: Idol!Jungkook X Managerial staff!Reader
Theme: Fluff, f2l (kinda), coworkers to lovers (kinda)
Summary: You are tasked with monitoring Jungkook's weverse live tonight, which starts with you trying to shove ramyeon down your throat and ends with Jungkook confessing that he likes you too.
Wordcount: 1.7k+
Warnings: None.
A/N: trust me, I had no plans of writing this one but couldn't really get this idea out of my head... so, please suffer with me. thank you very much. and it's really stupid so please forgive me.
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Weverse: 🌟JK started a LIVE  - I am tired..
Your phone dinged with the notification. You know what it can be and you are prepared but currently you are struggling to chew and swallow the last bit of cup ramyeon, so that you can finally get into your monitoring duty. 
Drinking the water in a breath and debunking choking possibilities, you reach for your work laptop. Opening the application while putting down the password doesn't take you more than 10 seconds. 
And finally you are in. Now all you have to do is to monitor Jungkook and take appropriate actions when there is an inappropriate situation such as, he falls asleep, or he spoils his upcoming schedule, or he gets repetitive calls from a sasaeng etc. 
You melt on the hotel couch. Your limbs feel like jelly due to all the workload you have been through since 4 am in the morning. Being a managerial staff of a Kpop idol is neither fancy nor pleasant. While thousands of fans dream of being at your place, you want nothing more than a year long break. But then again, the pay is good and you are in need of money as well as a strong professional profile. 
And another reason for you pursuing this gruesome job is, the man you are currently monitoring. 
It has been more than two years since you joined Hybe. For the first year you worked with the entire team and for the last one year, you have been appointed as one of the managerial staff of the maknae.
You don’t know when in this last one year, you started to grow and harbor some kind of fondness towards Jungkook. Not that you don’t know the rules and regulations of the company (most of which don’t apply in terms of BTS), you can recite those better than your phone number, but still… staying immune to Jungkook’s charms, and especially the way he treats you with all the kindness of the world (which makes you wonder at times whether feelings are mutual or not), wasn’t possible for you. 
You know it’s foolish, you know there will be no return to your affection but you still like to enjoy this feeling of liking him, adoring him from afar, praying for him in silence. You will move on someday, but as of now, your focus is trained on him and only on him. 
“Oh the festival? The festival was crazy! You know it’s the first time I have performed in a festival all alone without the members, so it was scary and I was nervous. But seeing the other artists enjoying themselves and watching you guys cheering for me helped me a lot. Hope you guys liked it.” Jungkook giggles. You mirror his actions while watching him through your laptop screen. 
If you put your ear on the wall, you could probably hear his mellow voice piercing through the thin cement of the overpriced hotel room. You are given the room beside him for handling emergencies quickly and he doesn’t even know that. He doesn’t even care, does he? 
You shake off your thoughts as you try to focus on the live.
Jungkook restlessly talks and tries to interact with the fans despite being dead tired. You have been with him all day long and you know how hectic things were. He has hardly got any sleep since the day he landed in the US. Interviews, performances, event invitations, everything was lined up one after another. It all ended with the Summerfest performance today. Just this one live and after that he will get to rest for a couple of days before catching a flight back to Korea.   
You roll your eyes as Jungkook starts to sing to comply with the request of a fan. 
“He just performed for an hour and twelve minutes! And you people still want him to sing? Even when he is clearly tired?” you groan at the screen. Most of the time you respect fans’ love for Bangtan but sometimes their nonchalant demands really piss you off.  
Jungkook finishes signing and starts coughing immediately. You follow the live stream as he leaves his chair and starts looking for water in the refrigerator. 
He coughs some more and then with a very choked voice, says, “ah! Guys! I’m running out of water. Should I drink water from the faucet then?” 
You grab two bottles from the nightstand as soon as possible and run towards his room. 
Within a few moments of ringing the bell, Jungkook appears at the door. At first his eyes go wide seeing you standing there wearing an oversized tshirt and a pair of sweats, then his eyes fall on the bottles you have in your hold. He coughs again and you hastily open the cap of one of the bottles and thrust it towards his lips. He grabs it immediately and drinks until he is satisfied.  
You try not to stare at the way his adam’s apple bobs when he chugs water down or the way he wipes his lips to get rid of the remnants of water, but fail miserably and you guess Jungkook notices that too, otherwise there is no apparent reason for him to smile sheepishly. 
“Thanks” he says, closing the bottle, “so… you are on monitoring duty tonight?” 
“Yeah. Are you okay though? You have been coughing since morning.” You reply, neglecting the way your skin heats up because of Jungkook’s intense stare at your smaller form. 
“I am fine, Y/N. Much better now that you are here…” Jungkook pauses, your eyes widen at his statement, “with the water I mean.” both of you chuckle nervously. 
“Umm.. I will wrap it up quickly okay? I don’t want to overwork you. Just give me ten more minutes.” 
“Jungkook, it’s alright. Take your time. I like to watch you doing silly stuff anyway.” you smile and he giggles. 
“It felt nice… hearing you say that.” Jungkook gives you one of his bunny smiles as his dark orbs find yours. You two stay there staring at each other, without giving a damn about the 10 million people that are currently staring at a chair, until reality finally seeps into your veins again. 
“Bye. Good night.” you murmur as Jungkook nods. 
He is already back at his seat when you come back to your room and sit on the couch. 
“Jungkook-ah, I wish I had a better word than love to explain how much I love you.”
Jungkook reads a comment. 
“Umm… better word than love? Is there anything like this?” He thinks for a moment, squirting his eyes, placing his index finger on his chin and pretending to think hard, “I watched a drama where the male lead confesses his love for the girl he likes saying something like ‘the moon is beautiful’ and I think that was really romantic. So, from now on if you want to say that you love me beyond explanation, use ‘the moon is beautiful’ and I will understand right away. Okay?” 
You see as the comment section goes wild with “moon is beautiful” comments rapidly. Fans really love him a lot and he too, is so dedicated to his fans that sometimes you get jealous. 
Within five more minutes, Jungkook is saying bye and turning the live stream off. You leave a sigh of relief, nothing went wrong under your watch and now you can finally sleep. 
You hit the bed with a thud, wrap the duvet around your body and close your eyes only to be startled by the vibration of your phone that is kept on the nightstand. 
You grab your phone with an annoyed huff, which vanishes when you see it’s a text from Jungkook. 
“Do you wanna grab a beer? If you are not asleep yet?” 
And the next moment you are bolting towards Jungkook’s room, fucking your sleep and nighttime rest. 
You two settle comfortably at the balcony, talking about nothing and everything at the same time, while staring at the night sky. Gradually you forget that you are tired and you haven’t got any sleep for almost 20 hours now. But who cares. If having no sleep exchanges a bit of quality time alone with Jungkook then you would gladly stay awake night after night. 
“Jimin hyung texted me earlier, saying I did a great job.” Jungkook says, sipping on his beer. 
“See, you were panicking for nothing. You always do a great job.” You reply, he chuckles and then for a minute or so, you two fall into a comfortable silence. Until Jungkook decides to break it.
“The moon is beautiful.” Jungkook whispers and you hear it loud and clear. Your heart stops beating for a moment. You stare at the said moon blankly. You don’t know if it is what you think it is. Maybe you are wrong, the moon is really beautiful tonight and that pact he made, is between him and his fans, it has nothing to do with you. On the top of that there is no way he feels something for you. You are just a nobody, nothing in front of him and his grandiose life. 
So you reply, “yes, it is.” 
“Y/N… You have been watching the live and you know what I mean right?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly feels closer to your body. You don’t know if it’s really happening or is it just a fragment of your dream, so you stay silent. 
Jungkook grabs your arms and turns your body to face him. 
And then within a moment you are caged between his muscular body and the balcony railing. 
“Don’t I deserve an answer?” Jungkook breathes on your lips. 
“Do- do you really..?”
“Yes, I do. And I wonder why you didn't notice it when I am always giving you heart eyes, when I am trying to be as close to you as possible, when I am always looking for chances to converse with you, to spend a little bit of time with you.” 
“But- Jungkook..”
“What’s your answer, Y/N?” 
“Jungkook, my answer doesn’t matter. Not when I am one of your employees. It’s prohibited for me.” you try to make him understand. 
“You just need to say yes, Y/N. I can manage the rest.”
“I will get fired.” 
“You won’t. Don’t you trust me?” 
“I do.” “Then let me take care of things okay?”
“Okay.” You smile at him, as he connects his forehead with yours. You breathe in him, his scent, his warmth and his affection for you. You don’t know about the future, you don’t have a clue about the struggles you are about to face. But you know you love him and he loves you back. So maybe things will be alright. You will let Jungkook take care of things as he wants, as for now, when he reaches down to lock his lips with yours, you taste euphoria on him.  
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A/N: The idea of "Moon is beautiful" instead of "I love you" is derived from the KDrama "Romance is a bonus book.
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @soraviie @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch
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dilatorywriting · 5 months
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Congrats on the milestone! It's always a delight to see your stuff pop up on my dash ^.^ I'd love to see prompt 19 from the dialog that makes your reader swoon with the guy of your choice (smut welcome). Hope the bot infestation takes a chill pill!
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Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 1.7k
Prompt 19: "If you don’t stop looking at my lips without doing anything about it, I will take you right here on this counter."
🌶️ Warning for Mild Spice
[EVENT MASTERLIST]
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Vil was drunk.
Or well, Vil was as inebriated as he would most likely ever allow himself to be in any sort of public setting to speak of. Which was still above and beyond what you had ever seen of him up to that point. Which was of course to say that he was still walking effortlessly in his sky-high heels and maintaining every bit of the decorum with which he so usually prided himself. The only reason you could tell the difference at all was because you knew this stupid man better than the back of your own hand. And the loose-limbed ease about him combined with the lolling smirk on his lips was as telltale of a sign as any. Not that you could blame him. Winning any award was certainly an honor. Beating out Neige Leblanche of all people would probably have had him drunk on success even without the literal booze to help him along.
He rolled the half-empty flute of bubbling champagne between his fingers and tipped it towards you like an offering.
��Care to try some?”
You huffed, far too fond to be properly exasperated. “At least one of us needs to be able to drive home.”
And your tolerance was, unfortunately, not great. At least, not for the horrifically potent nonsense that this magic-infused world called ‘wine.’ The last time you’d drank during one of these events you’d wound up nearly beating a rude reporter with his own camera, but thankfully had only had the coordination to call the prying ass all sorts of colorful and very impolite things. (‘Secretly fucking Neige Leblanche’ indeed. Vil hadn’t even asked his PR team to spin that one. Just loudly demanded that your indignation should speak for itself and that any such inquiries into your private affairs would be handled personally in the future.)
Vil snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll be calling for a car either way.”
He tilted the glass again, and you were forever grateful that he wasn’t a sloppy drunk. You didn’t care if he spilled booze all down your front and stained the stupid, too-expensive outfit he’d all but sewed you into, but the fussing that would ensue would be torturous.
“Just a sip,” he coaxed. “I promise you’ll like it.”
You scrunched up your nose and sighed, plucking the flute from his hand. You went to take a small sip and one of those perfectly painted nails reached up to tap irritably at the rim.
“What?” you frowned.
He turned the glass until the other curved side sat at your lips and gave another pointed tap tap tap.
“From here.”
You went nearly cross-eyed trying to stare down at the rim, and with a bit of determination were able to finally pick out the traces of an imprint from the actor’s otherwise impeccably maintained lipstick.
“Are you serious?” you snorted a laugh.
Those perfectly lined lips of his pursed into something that you would dare to call a pout.
“If you’re not going to let me kiss you in public, then you can at least give me this,” he huffed.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, lips still twitching far too much in amusement. “That was your rule. ‘For my privacy,’ you said.”
He waved you off with a scoff. “Please. That was only when we were keeping entirely out of the public eye. I could hardly complain about it now.”
Now, he said. Like he hadn’t graduated from NRC less than a year ago. Like your introduction into his world of stage lights and red carpets hadn’t all been meticulously curated and released only a month or so prior. You blinked, a bit owlishly. And then decided to indulge his petulance and took a neat, slow slip from right where he’d tapped. Vil was always honest, brutally so. He had no compunctions about telling you what he wanted, when he wanted it, and how it was going to happen. So it wasn’t like the touch of alcohol swimming through his system was going to make him more truthful, just… perhaps more loose with it, it seemed. Less manicured, in his speech.
The model looked endlessly pleased and reached out to snatch the glass back. He lifted it back to his own lips—carefully placed, just as he’d demanded of you—and took a long drag.
“There,” he grinned, all smug satisfaction. Like tricking you into an indirect kiss was any sort of accomplishment to begin with. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You were going to burst out laughing, and someone was going to get it on camera, and Vil’s stupid assistant would never let you live it down.
“I guess not,” you hummed. “How much longer, do you think. Until we can go home?”
Vil took another sip, drinking down the last drops of the sparkling concoction. He deposited the empty glass on a passing server’s tray and turned on you with a sharp smirk that was far too wide and far too wine-warm.
“That anxious to get me alone, darling?”
Oh he was really gone.
You grabbed his hand and hauled him towards a more secluded alcove. Because he hadn’t exactly shouted that, but enough curious heads had turned your way that you weren’t going to chance it. ‘Exclusive after party,’ your ass. No reporters didn’t mean no wandering eyes and ears. And he may have been punch drunk enough not to give two shits, but his PA would certainly make the two of you ‘care’ come morning.
“We’re in public,” you hissed, cheeks dark and ears warm. “Don’t say things like that!”
“Oh?” he crooned, stopping in his tracks. You gave another tug but it was useless. Stupidly towering height aside, Vil was all lean muscle and stubborn determination. If you were moving him at all, it was only because he was humoring you enough to step to your demands. “But that’s what you are, isn’t it?” He leaned forward and you could smell the pop of alcohol off his tongue. “Or at least, you certainly act the part of ravenous lover well enough.”
“Really,” you snapped, hushed. “If you’re going to be like this, do you have to use those stupid lines on top of it?”
“Stupid?” Vil frowned, and his fuzzy gaze focused into something sharp. “Your reactions don’t normally imply that those ‘lines’ leave much to be desired.”
You could feel your ears going hot as coals. “Yeah. Well. In the moment is a lot different from—we’re not talking about this right now!” you squawked. “Your assistant is going to kill me if she finds out I let anyone hear you like this.”
Vil snorted and pulled you the rest of the way into the alcove. “She would never. And besides, it’s my prerogative to say whatever I wish,” he finished on something that was nearly a pout. His lips pressed into a firm line, determined. “Should I try again then? If you thought that one was so stupid.”
“Vil—” you hissed.
“Hmm,” he mused, deliberate. And then, “How about this one, then. All of the accolades in the world couldn’t compare to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”
You squeaked and ducked your head against his shoulder, fingers digging into the too-expensive fabric of his suit.
“No?” he cooed, a bit of that familiar, mocking, edge curling over the word. And you were left to wonder if he was really that drunk after all. “Let me try another. As much as I enjoy those cries, I think I like the whispers even more—every part of you of that whispers temptation,” he recited, far, far too warm, “as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”
“Would you please just—” you squawked, mortified and melting from head to toe. You were about to remind him again, plead nearly, that they were still very much in public. But then a thought shot off in your head like a lightbulb clicking to life. “You like this,” you hissed at him, accusatory.
“Like what?” he droned, crowding you against the wall. It was dark in the little corner, quiet, but not nearly enough to blot out the low hum of conversations and clinking of glassware just a couple dozen feet away.
Vil dug his fingers into the fabric over your hips.
“It does have its appeal, doesn’t it?” he hummed against your neck and you could feel your blood buzzing beneath his curling lips. “No one to see you, certainly. But everyone will surely know,” he drawled. “That’s the world of show business, I’m afraid. All subtle implications, people whispering about us under their breath.” His hands twisted, bunching up the edges of the crinkling satin. “I’m sure even Neige will hear, eventually.”
“Is that it?” you hissed, biting back a horribly, high pitched little squeak. “You’re still mad at what that reporter said?”
“Of course not,” Vil said, with all the cadence of a well-seasoned liar. “The gossip mongering of one, moronic pest is hardly a problem.” He leaned closer, pushing a leg forward to slot between your. “But I have eyes, darling. And I can see that little rat’s lingering far too long where they shouldn’t.”
You reached up to slap a hand over your mouth and bite into your palm to quiet whatever embarrassing nonsense you would have tried to reply with. Or, well, if you’d managed to reply at all.
“I know you’re anxious to get home, darling,” he droned against your collarbone. You could smell the fizzy remnants of champagne all in your nose. “But this is my party, after all. We’ll have to wait to call for a car for at least another hour,” he apologized, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “That said,” he continued, grinding harder, “if you don’t stop looking at my lips like that without doing anything about it, I might just have to take you right here against the wall.”
A pause, as he canted his head. A soft mess of pale bangs falling over his lidded eyes.
“And there is a very lovely private changing room with a lock just down the hall.”
“…okay,” you squeaked, and Vil grinned—pulling back to wrap an arm around your waist and lead you along. Gait steady and composed as always, and just the barest hint of the wine-warmed-boldness curling over his lips.
.
.
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yurislilygarden · 1 month
Text
ʚїɞ Self Aware! Hazbin Hotel
ʚїɞ Their reaction after becoming self aware and first thoughts about reader! part 1
ʚїɞ Alastor and Lucifer Morningstar
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ Word count: just about 1.7k
ʚїɞ I planned for all hotel characters first but then I realized how much I'm thinking on each paragraph and its details that I decided to just do 2-3 charas per part😭
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Very few characters would notice something wrong on the first watch of the show, but wouldn't realize, nor become self-aware until the 2nd or further watch. 
While everyone's reaction would be different with different amounts of stages before total acceptance of the situation, they all would share the first emotion, simple disbelief. They would first need to even process the fact that they're not real, that they were created solely for the purpose of entertaining… something? Someone? In a completely different Universe. That everything that they thought had happened to them before they died didn't actually happen, they were never alive in the first place. Only after that did the emotions and reactions differ. The very first emotion or actual personal reaction would be:
ALASTOR
Irritation with a hint of madness.
His first thoughts about the situation would be how ironic it is that he seeks entertainment for himself while his own person, no, character, was a source of entertainment for whatever was watching them from time to time. It was quite ironic how he said that his face was made for radio when the truth couldn't be further from that. He was literally created solely to be watched on that funny colored box by… whatever was watching him and the others.
He was irritated at not noticing that something was wrong immediately, now he thinks about how blind he was, how obvious everything was. The city is actually quiet, too quiet when the noise and demons aren't needed, when they're not meant to be heard. Nothing actually happened that one time when he was out for a fix of his coat, it just got magically fixed, he went and came back when someone else decided he was to do so. They didn’t have much actual free will when he thought about it and that's what he was mad about. He thought that his deal was a massive problem to him, oh how wrong he was because the problem was you.
He doesn't know how he or the others didn't notice the small, glowing butterfly flying above their heads from time to time. They couldn't be that blind, could they? The little crystal thing (could he break it?) must have done something to be unnoticed for so long. He wondered how long they were watched for, the little thing above their heads seemed to be speaking sometimes, seemingly knowing what would happen… at least he thought so, the words would cut out so often that he was left with a pure guess at one point.
He didn't want to accept that he wasn't real, that he was just a 2D character with the sole purpose of entertaining someone. He was meant to be the one entertained, not you. But he couldn't actually do anything, could he? For sure not until more of the people he knew were aware. 
That's also something that he noticed. When it came to the hotel staff and guests, he seemed to be the only one who realized the situation at first. It took a few times of some events repeating before he noticed that someone else from the hotel was noticing the little crystal butterfly above their heads as well. 
Alastor seemed to be the first, or one of the very first people who noticed that something was wrong. He wasn't sure if someone realized before him, and if they did then who, but he was somewhat glad that he could finally discuss the topic at least a little once the other hotel patrons found out about the truth. He isn't one to really open up in any way, but this was a matter where he had to communicate with the others.
You. He didn’t know what to think of you at first. He did see you in a more negative light at first, under many emotions hitting him at once which he hated but after he calmed down, he started thinking. At first, he was sure you were some sick person seeking entertainment from the suffering of others, and yeah he was doing pretty much the same, but were you really alike when he wasn’t even real and you were? He was pretty sure that he’s never gonna get used to saying that.
Over time, when he stopped overthinking (he’s gonna deny that he was doing that till the day of his 2nd death), he noticed a few changes. The less negative his posture and thoughts were about you, even if neutral, the more he was able to find out. Alastor was able to pick up more than a few words whenever you talked, he was able to hear you talking clearly enough to recognize a possible gender, and something he wasn’t sure that he wanted to think about, it was way easier to pick up your emotions in your words.
I feel like he would be more lenient towards you if it turned out you were a female (or identified as one), but that would be the mama’s boy inside of him talking. There wouldn’t be too many differences of course, but those who spent enough time around him would be able to tell there's a difference after finding out your gender if it turned out you weren’t a man (again, not too much but it IS noticeable).
He would go from lowkey hating you at first to being mostly neutral with a hint of positive light as you seemed to do nothing but watch, up until later on when everyone is self-aware as well and would talk about the whole thing. Only then would the feelings towards you, the little watcher, as he first called you, turn more positive.
LUCIFER
Massive inner conflict and a complete mix of emotions
He didn’t know what to think. It was hard to comprehend that he didn’t actually live for as long as he thought, that all the things that supposedly happened, in fact never were even close to happening, they were just… a scripted past. 
Was all his suffering for nothing? Was it there just to entertain someone? Did those things who watched them enjoy seeing them sad and hurt? He was simply lost on what to think about the whole situation, it wasn't something that he could prepare himself for in any way beforehand. 
He was disappointed in himself for not noticing immediately or at least faster that something was not right. He's the literal King of hell! Even if… only in a show apparently… but he still is. No one better say anything about that because he's already on the brink of a yet another breakdown. He cannot take much more.
Should he try doing something about this? Or should he stay quiet and go with the script as he's supposed to? He wasn’t sure about the answer himself and had no one to answer his questions. The thought that what he thought were eons of life was actually a lie was… a little terrifying. Who knows just how much can someone force them to do without caring for their opinions because they don’t know that he and the others are aware of everything now, how much can you cause without their consent? He wasn’t sure if you or anyone else knew about them being self-aware or not.
He would actually try to ignore the little butterfly whenever he would see it, but at the same time, many questions were swirling in his mind.
Why were you around? Did you like to see them suffering? Did you have any control over what you saw? Did you have some sort of control over them? Did you have plans regarding them? Did you-
Yeah, again, he has a lot of questions and absolutely zero answers.
His personal feelings about you were all around at first. Not sure whether he should hate, dislike, or be generally negative about you, be more neutral, or be on the more positive side, especially since you didn't seem to do anything but watch them. Like it's all that you could do when it comes to them, but he couldn't be 100% sure.
Similarly to Alastor, he would be one of the characters who noticed something wrong on the first watch of the show before becoming self-aware quite soon after that. I don't think he, nor Alastor, would notice the other knows too fast, since both try to act like nothing's wrong around others. He did not want to be just a 2D character, something to be watched on a screen. It was… humiliating, in his eyes. He could tell that Charlie and the others weren't aware of anything at first so he didn't speak about it until later on when he was sure that they came to their senses, as he would like to say.
He wondered how long were you actually there before he, or anyone else, started to see or notice you, especially since he could literally hear you. Both as the small insect and the occasional words he was able to pick up. And that's if he was to forget the butterfly was literally, softly fucking glowing. Yeah, they're all blind.
I think that if you’re on the younger side, (which technically is any age a human can be alive at compared to him lmao) he would be a little softer, especially if you're similar to his daughter in character. It would come from the paternal side of his, you would probably remind him of Charlie so much :(
He would be more on the negative side at first, as much as he wishes he didn't straight up assume how you were as a person, it took some time but he went into the more neutral zone before being positive about you after being able to hear more of you talking, as he was able to at least have more idea about your character and wasn't completely clueless like at the start.
Your nickname also got changed to something else, something cuter over time, as Alastor’s name for you, little watcher, was deemed not good enough by everyone (Lucifer's words)
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c0pkiller · 7 months
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. ゚。 ₍ 𓆩 NOAH'S KINKTOBER 2023 𓆪 ₎ 。゚.
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𖤐 ━━ RULES + INFO
this is my first time writing for kinktober and I've always avoided it bc it's too much of a commitment and i'm a flakey lil thing but we're gonna give it a shot this year! i'll just write one fic per each week of the month and if i get any more ideas during oct, i'll write those too. in the end, there will probably be six or seven fic on this mlist. this mlist will be available in my pinned post indefinitely as well.
i'll be sticking to jjk men for this since that's where i'm most comfortable at the moment.
i also made a playlist for this event. each fic will have it's own respective song to get you in the mood though. each respective song is in the ₆⁶₆ next to the title! all the links are for Spotify, so sorry! – kinktober playlist!
this goes without saying but i'm gonna say it anyway. no minors are permitted to interact, consume, or share anything i've written, republished, or posted here or anywhere else on my blog. leave this post right now if you're underage.
if you want to be tagged in any of this upcoming work, feel free to submit a form on my taglist. please read my rules before submitting. you must be 18+ to be tagged. if you only want to he tagged in the kinktober fic, only select the Kinktober option!
sneak peaks here
mdni banner credit @kithsune
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𖤐 ━━ WEEK ONE (10.03)
₆⁶₆ THE LOVE WITCH ft. KENTO NANAMI — You're still a baby witch. What made you think you were capable of performing a love spell on your crush without somehow messing it up?
⚀ brainwashing (?), masturbation (f), possessiveness, seduction, multiple orgasms, service dom nanami, slightly dominant reader, gagging, wc: ~ 4.3k
𖤐 ━━ WEEK TWO (10.10)
₆⁶₆ BLOOD ORANGE ft. TOJI FUSHIGURO — After spending Halloween night watching horror movies with your best friend, you wake up at 1 AM to nurse a headache; but instead, you find his father having a glass of wine... without any clothes on.
⚂ dilf! toji, sneaky link, drunk sex, cunnlingous, face fucking, rough sex, wc: ~ 7.1k
𖤐 ━━ WEEK THREE (10.17)
₆⁶₆ SUCKING SOULS ft. KAMO CHOSO — You've existed as a succubus for more years than you could keep track of, haunting sexually frustrated men's dreams and they're all starting to blend together... except for this one. This one is too cute to let go of.
⚁ demon fucking, somnophilia, blowjobs, sub! choso, wc: ~ 1.7k
𖤐 ━━ WEEK FOUR (10.24 & 10.31)
₆⁶₆ GHOST GONE SOLID ft. SATORU GOJO & SUGURU GETO — Your friend Suguru invites you over to play with a oujia board he found in his attic and the two of you accidentally summon the spirit of an international playboy whose hell bent on showing the two of you a good time.
⚃ ghost sex, threesome - f/m/m, making out, oral, anal (f receiving), spitroasting, double penetration, wc: ~ 6k
₆⁶₆ ₆⁶₆ FINAL GIRL (GONE WILD!) ft. SATORU GOJO — A mysterious man with a distorted voice calls you while you're having a chill night in on Halloween, demanding you put on a show for him through your window or else he'll have to come inside and do it himself. He thinks he's being threatening but, little does he know, you get off on being bossed around.
⚄ blackmailing, threats, masturbation (f & m), phone sex, ghostface! gojo, fuck or die, public sex, wc: ~ 2.2k
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topguncortez · 4 months
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I Still Love You - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey
opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist
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synopsis: Y/N goes out on her first date in. . . in a while. She struggles with her feelings as if it is time to start moving on, or if she wants to fight for things with Jake.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: mentions of cheating
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Y/N didn’t know what she was doing. 
She couldn’t remember the last time she went on date. Things had changed a lot since she was active in the dating pool. Dates were no longer big events where you shaved every crevice of your body, went out and bought a new dress, spent hours doing your hair and make-up, where picked up at your house and greeted with flowers and taken to some fancy restaurant across town. No, dating now was going to a local bar for a drink or two with some guy you had matched with on some dating app. 
Y/N felt her hands shake as she looked over her shoulder as the bell above the door rang. She was extremely early to her drink date, a whole half hour early to be exact. But the nerves had gotten the better of her, and she didn’t want to show up late. Now she sat looking completely out of place in this swanky bar on the east side of San Diego. It was far enough away that she knew it would be safe from anyone she knew catching glimpse of her. 
It wasn’t that she felt guilty about being on date. . . well, she felt a little bit guilty. Jake hadn’t signed the divorce papers yet, but they were making way with setting up visitation days. Y/N was currently living in the house while Jake was staying in an on-base house. Y/N hadn’t even thought of getting out into the dating field, wanting to wait until the divorce was completely over, but Val had set her up with one of her co-workers and Y/N didn’t have the heart to say no. Who knows, maybe she was going to meet her second husband. 
A small huff left her lips at even the thought of marrying another man. Having another man raise her kids. Having another man in her bed. Jake had been the one for her, and he’d always be the one for her, even if he broke her heart. She could entertain the notion of getting drinks with someone, but it wasn’t going to go much farther than this. 
“Y/N?” A masculine voice called out to her. She lifted her head, “I’m Miles, it’s nice to meet you.” 
Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile, reaching her hand out to greet him, “Nice to meet you, Miles.” 
He was clad in a black dress pants and baby blue button up. The top buttons were undone, showing the faintest gold chain around his thick neck. He sat down on the barstool next to you, his scent of oranges and hospital drifting to you, making your nose scrunch. You hated oranges and the thick smell of hospital disinfectant. 
“Sorry I’m late, got held up at the hospital,” Miles said. 
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows looking at her watch. It was 7:01 and they agreed to meet at the bar at 7:00, “A minute late is hardly late.” 
“In my book. . . it is,” He smiled, flagging down the waiter to order himself a drink and some appitizers, “I don’t like showing up on time, it feels like I’m late.” 
“I’m the same way. I like to be atleast 10 minutes early to everything,” Y/N sighed, “But having kids, I’m lucky if I’m even 5 minutes early.” 
“Val told me about your children,” Miles said, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered, “Three of them right?” 
Y/N nodded her head, reaching for her phone. Her favorite thing about being a mom is getting to show off pictures of her kids. She showed Miles pictures of Alex when he first got his glasses, Ella winning her first soccer game, when Eli rolled over for the first time. Miles smiled along with her the whole time, asking questions about her kids; what they liked to do, what their favorite colors are, what their favorite bed time stories are. 
“They look like they are some fun people,” Miles said, sipping his drink. 
Y/N wasn’t sure what it was that snapped in her, but she suddenly felt embarrassed. Was she talking too muc about her kids? Did this guy even want kids? It wasn’t just her he would be getting if they ever decided to go past this one date, it was her and three kids. Three kids that had cried when their father moved his things out the door. Three kids that had been fighting and acting out more since the divorce process had started. Three kids that were waiting for her to come home. 
“Hey?” Miles asked softly, putting his hand on her knee, “Did I lose ya?” 
Y/N blinked a couple of times, plastering a fake smile on her face, “No,” She shook her head, “It’s just I-” 
“Thinking about your kids?” Y/N nodded and Miles set his glass down on the bar, “Val told me this is your first time out since your divorce. . . It’s my first time out since my wife died and I. . .” Miles shook his head, “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong, meeting you here.” 
Y/N’s heart broke a bit in her chest, seeing his sad brown eyes look at her. Val had mentioned that he was previously married, but she never disclosed the details on what happened. She shifted on her barstool, placing her hand on top of Miles’ giving it a squeeze. 
“This doesn’t have to go very far tonight. . . If anything, I’m not ready to go very far tonight,” Y/N spoke honestly, “I’m still hurt and dealing with everything, but I could really use a friend?” 
Miles nodded his head, turning his hand in Y/N’s so their fingers were intertwined, he squeezed her hand back, “I can use a friend too.” 
The two of them stayed in the bar for only another hour, before going to find something to eat on the east side. Miles had picked out a local seafood place that he swore had the best fish tacos. The conversation flowed easily as they ate. They talked about everything under the sun; what he did for work at the hospital, Y/N’s plan to go back to work at the flower shop in a couple weeks, Miles’ most recent travel to Switzerland for a pediatric board conference, how Y/N finally got to visit the USS Midway museum. It truly did feel like Miles was the perfect friend for Y/N. He understood what it was like to lose someone you love, only difference was Jake wasn’t dead. 
“I should really get back,” Y/N sighed as they walked down the sidewalk to where she parked her car, “I gotta trade off with the kids’ dad, he works early in the morning.” 
“Don’t gotta explain anything to me,” Miles shrugged. He had been totally respectful when Y/N talked about everything with Jake. She didn’t go into full detail about it, mainly because the wounds were still so fresh. She still felt a pang in her heart when she walked through the front door and his boots weren’t there. 
“I think we should do this again, I really enjoyed getting to be with another adult,” Y/N smiled and Miles returned it. 
“I would love to,” Miles responded and opened Y/N’s car door, “Let me know when you get home, please.” Y/N nodded her head, “Good night, Y/N.” 
“Goodnight, Miles,” She whispered as she shut the door. 
The whole drive home it felt like Y/N was in a cloud. Her feelings were a bit conflicted on what she felt towards Miles. He was a good guy, with a nice smile. He had a sense of humor and had made her laugh several times throughout the night. Y/N could tell he had manners from the times he pulled out her chair and switched sides on the sidewalk so he was near the street. But all those little things were also things that Jake had done. Jake always sat so he was facing the door, or in the isle. Jake always opened the door and walked next to the street. Jake always knew how to make Y/N laugh. 
Y/N had just pulled into her driveway, Jake’s black truck parked in it’s normal spot when her phone dinged. 
‘Valeria Bates: how was it!? Did you kiss!? Did you do more than kiss!?’ 
Y/N’s face paled. Was she supposed to kiss him? They had agreed to just be friends, for now, but what was supposed to happen on the next date? Y/N hadn’t ever kissed another man besides Jake. And she sure as hell hadn’t slept with another man. Even though Miles was attractive, the thought of him touching her the way Jake had made her feel queasy. She didn’t respond to Val, tucking her phone in her purse and heading towards the front door. 
Quietly, she pushed the door open, coming face to face with Jake sitting alone on the couch, only the light of the television illuminating his face. When Y/N first asked Jake if he could watch the kids tonight, she hadn’t felt bad about it, but now, seeing him sitting there alone, she felt nothing but guilt. 
“How was it?” Jake asked. 
Y/N sighed as she took off her coat and hung it up, “It was good.” 
Jake nodded his head and stood up from the couch, “Will there be another one?” 
“Too soon to say,” Y/N mumbled and turned to face Jake, “How were the kids?” 
“They were fine. Eli was a bit fussy but he’s got some teeth coming in,” Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets and Y/N nodded. 
“Well, You should probably get-” 
“Don’t go on another date,” Jake said, cutting Y/N off, “Look, I know I fucked up. I know what I did is something that is unforgivable, and I beat myself up for it every day, but please. . . Please. . .” He walked towards her, and grabbed her hand in his, “Please.” 
Y/N wasn’t sure what to do, as he stood before her, his green eyes with a tint of red to them. 
“Goodnight, Jake,” Y/N muttered, squeezing his hand before moving towards the stairs to go check on the kids. 
“I love you,” Jake whispered as Y/N’s frame disappeared down the hallway.
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crvptidgf · 6 months
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Luckiest
Hazel Callahan x Reader (fluff)
➸ summary: reader takes it upon themselves to watch over hazel when the worst happens
➸ warnings/notes: mentions of a physical fight, mentions of blood and injuries, slight mentions of medical drugs
➸ requested?: yes! ↴
- something where reader takes care of hazel after she gets the shit beat out of her by tucker
word count: 1.7k
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THE CLUB WAS disbanded for the time being. Nobody had spoken to PJ since last morning, and there was a chance that the club was shutting down anyway. Hazel felt betrayed by the way she was treated. So, in solidarity, you all decided to keep your distance from PJ until she apologized.
Recently, Hazel had been acting a bit off. Of course you knew that she was upset over what PJ said, but your words provided little comfort to her. Something else was on her mind.
You say next to her on the bleachers, the gym slowly filling to the brim with students and teachers. Hand finding Hazel’s you squeezed it tightly three times, hoping to cheer her up. She merely smiled at you, her eyes flickering nervously around the room.
Deciding to not stress her out further, you didn’t ask what was wrong. She would tell you in her own time.
Quickly diverting your attention to the footballers running up, you rolled your eyes at the sight of Jeff. Everybody was cheering - their hands holding up posters and signs of his stupid face.
After the cheerleaders started off the pep rally, you watched as Isabel smiled and ran up to Josie. You were happy for them. They seemed cute together.
Hazel eyed them up briefly before her attention was back to the events below her. She held your hand in both of hers now, her knee bouncing as she seemingly waited for something. It was like she knew something was about to happen.
“Hazel-“ you began, but the speakers interrupted you.
“Thank you all for joining us here today, folks,” said Tim. “There’s been some… exciting stuff happening at Rockridge Falls recently.”
You furrowed your brows. Glancing at Hazel, you noticed that her eyes were trained on the boy speaking. She swallowed hard as he continued to talk.
“How many of you,” he said as he walked forward a little bit, “know about that little girl fight club?”
Everybody began to clap, their cheers mixing in as well. You didn’t like this. Something felt really weird, but you couldn’t pinpoint what.
As Tim’s voice blared throughout the gym, your stomach churned.
“Well do we have a surprise for you! We’re gonna bring…” he trailed off as he scanned the crowd. He mumbled a ‘where is she’, before he found what he was looking for.
He smiled as he snapped his fingers and pointed upwards. “Hazel.”
You locked eyes with the girls as they looked up at you, confused. Shaking your head and shrugging, you turned to Hazel. Her hand was slowly slipping out of yours as she walked down to the pep rally.
“Where are you going?” you asked, but she was already long gone.
When you found out what was about to happen, your heart dropped. What was she thinking?
Gaze trailing after her as she descended the steps, you couldn’t help but get increasingly nervous. As soon as the cage was revealed and you understood what was happening, your stomach completely flipped - you felt like you were going to puke from anxiety.
A sharp gasp left your lips as Hazel was shoved across the gym, the sound of her back hitting the floor making you flinch. You watched as she slowly got up, sprinting towards Tucker at full speed. She threw a punch straight to his face and kicked him in the stomach. The whole crowd was in awe, and you felt slightly more relaxed once you saw that she was handling herself well.
Hazel jumped up onto Tucker’s back, clawing at his face. Her nails left deep indents in his cheeks, and you winced as you saw blood pour from beneath her fingertips.
All of a sudden, she was flung face first back to the floor. Her mouth was pooling with blood as she tried to sit up, but her arms were too exhausted to push her weight up.
You got up from your seat, shoving past the people next to you. Whatever Tim was saying seemed to be shocking a lot of people, but you didn’t bother listening. Everything that he said went in one ear and out the other. All you cared about right now was getting Hazel somewhere safe and comfortable.
But your plans were cut short when you watched as Tucker advanced towards Hazel. His footsteps were heavy and quick, and you couldn’t get to her fast enough - it’s as if you were moving in slow motion.
Hazel’s head was kicked backwards, the back of her head banging onto the floor as she groaned, slowly losing consciousness.
“Hazel!” you screamed, letting out a noise of fear that you had never been able to produce before. You mumbled to yourself in a panic, hoping and praying that she would be okay.
Your knees slammed painfully onto the floor next to her as you slowly lifted her head up. She looked absolutely terrible - you could already see bruises and scars beginning to form on her perfect face. The other girls ran up to help you stand Hazel up, your arms wrapped around her waist as you held her right arm around your neck.
Leaving Isabel behind to talk to Josie, you made your way to Hazel’s car as quick as you could.
She was going to the hospital. There was no way you’d bring her home immediately; especially since you had no idea what you’d tell her mom.
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Hazel had been pretty concussed when you reached the hospital. The doctors gave you some pain medication to give her for when she woke up, and told you to not let her fall asleep for a little while.
By the time you were done she had already stirred awake, wincing as she reached her hand to her beaten face. She had a huge bandage on her nose, and her eye was swollen shut. The doctor’s ran some more tests and discharged her fairly quickly.
The drive home was silent since her meds were kicking in pretty harshly.
You thanked God that her mom wasn’t home when you got there. Fumbling through the car keys to find the key to her front door, you made your way over to Hazel’s side of the car to help her out.
“I can walk, don’t worry about me,” she said, her voice hoarse from the lack of use the past few hours.
“I am worrying, Hazel. You got beat to a pulp right in front of me.”
You gently helped her stand up before locking the car. Hazel leaned against you, her head finding refuge on your shoulder as you patiently walked to the entrance.
Sighing, you unlocked it as you urged her inside.
She didn’t object as you lead her upstairs to her bedroom before making her lie down on the bed. You began to untie her shoelaces silently. Hazel didn’t move - whether it was because she was tired and in pain, or just embarrassed, you didn’t know.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
You placed her shoes at the edge of her bed before you crawled next to her. She could barely open her left eye, and her right one was so bruised that you could just barely make out the blue in them.
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re safe now,” you said as you patted your legs for her to lay on you.
She made a subtle noise of pain as she rested her cheek on your leg, but eventually settled in as she draped her arm across your thighs.
Hazel hummed as she felt your hands begin to thread through her hair. All her previously tense muscles relaxed under your touch.
“Oh Haze… What were you thinking?” you said solemnly.
Her eyes scrunched closed. That’s exactly the question she hoped you wouldn’t ask. Honestly, she didn’t even really understand it herself. Clearing her throat, she moved to lay on her back so she could look up at you.
“I thought I’d be fighting PJ.”
That was all she needed to say. You nodded your head, immediately sympathized with her. What PJ had said to Hazel was pretty rough, and you knew that she was already pretty ashamed of how her mother acted so it hit her harder than it should’ve.
You wanted to scream at PJ when it happened. Hazel had friends. Friends who rushed by her side when she got beat down, friends who stuck by her when the group disbanded.
Speaking of your friends, you decided that Hazel should be with them right now.
“How about we call up the girls? We can have a movie night,” you said as you pushed her hair from her forehead.
Hazel smiled as much as she could, her face still stiff and painful. “Yeah. I’d like that,” she whispered, closing her eyes at the feeling of you caressing all her sore spots. Your feather-like touch could make her fall asleep if she wasn’t heavily advised against doing so.
You shot the girls a quick text, letting them know that Hazel was some-what okay. They said they would arrive soon with snacks, and you smiled.
Hazel deserved this. She deserved to have so many people who cared for her, and wanted to see her happy.
“Haze,” you muttered, your voice gentle as to not startle her daze. She opened her eyes, lids drooping as she stared at you.
“They’ll be here in 30. Is that alright?”
She nodded before turning to face your stomach, her head burying into your jumper as she hugged your torso close to hers. “Thank you,” was all she said.
Hazel breathed in your scent. You always made her feel at home, and she was so lucky to have you. She felt this with everything in her - she was the luckiest woman alive. And that’s exactly what she told you.
“I’m so lucky,” she said, her voice muffled by the cotton jumper.
“How so?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at her. Your fingers still massaged through her scalp, your other arm laying on her waist.
Hazel peeked through the fabric to glance at you, a small grin playing at her lips.
“Because I have the most caring girlfriend ever.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you sank further down onto the bed, ushering Hazel to cuddle into your chest. Arms wrapped securely around her, you silently agreed with her.
You also felt like the luckiest person ever. And you couldn’t be more grateful that you met Hazel at the perfect time.
- - - - -
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