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#and there was no way she would willingly help her
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How You Get the Girl (Emily Prentiss x Reader)
"And that's how it works. That's how you got the girl"
Summary: In which Derek and Hotch give you advice for your first date with Emily.
Warnings: None
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YOU STUDIED the chessboard in front of you, happily occupying your thoughts with the number of moves it would take to checkmate Gideon rather than your most recent case. If you played it right you would be able to take him down in five moves.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you." Gideon said, pulling your attention away from the board as he handed you a small, wrapped gift. "Forgot to give it to you at the party." He added as you took it from him.
"But you don't give birthday presents." You said as you looked down at the box and then back at him with a soft smile. He just nodded and gestured for you to open the gift, so you did.
You pulled the ribbon off and ripped the gift wrap before opening the box. When you looked inside you saw a sheet of paper with reservations to the nicest French restaurant in DC.
"Wow. Thank you." You smiled as you looked up at him. It was not what you were expecting but you were excited nonetheless.
"You're gonna love it," Gideon said with a rare smile.
"We are. You're coming with me right?" You asked.
"No. I hear someone else on the plane is a huge French food connoisseur." He answered.
"Who?" You questioned quietly.
"The only person that willingly watches those cheesy romance movies with you." He said with a chuckle which caused your eyes to widen. "Emily?" You questioned nervously as your fingers began to tap on the box.
It was no secret to anyone that you admired the brunette.
You were often caught staring at her which resulted in endless teasing from everyone else. The only problem was that you didn't know how Emily felt about you. Sure, she was flirty with you and very protective, but that was the case with everyone else. So it was safe to say you were in the dark about what the brunette felt for you.
"She spent the summers up there with her grandfather," Gideon said calmly, which was the complete opposite of what you were feeling at the moment, "Wh-what should I say?" You asked anxiously as your eyes darted from Gideon over to Emily, who was sitting in the window seat absorbed in her book.
When you looked back he just raised his eyebrows. You sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to help you. Gideon then gave you a small, encouraging nod, so you took a deep breath before standing up and walking towards Emily.
As soon as you sat down in the seat across from her, Emily looked up and closed her book, "Hey birthday girl," She said with a big smile. She had been calling you that even though your birthday was a couple of days ago. But you were in no rush to tell her to stop because, in all honesty, you loved the way her voice sounded when she said it.
"Hey," You said softly, matching her smile. "I- uh- wanted to ask you something.' You said nervously, as you rested your hands and the box on the table.
"Okay," Emily said softly she clasped her hands together on the table and leaned forward with an encouraging smile.
"I have reservations for that French restaurant downtown on Friday night. So, if you aren't busy I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? I mean, no pressure at all if you don't want to go but I just thought it would be nice and-" You rambled trying to avoid eye contact with Emily before the brunette spoke up, "Y/n!" She interrupted, causing your gaze to finally land on her.
"I would love to go with you." She smiled and your eyes lit up excitedly, "Really?!"
"It's a date." She chuckled.
"A date," You repeated, biting the inside of your check to try and hide your elation.
Emily reached across the table to give your hand a small squeeze that sent butterflies through your stomach.
"I'll pick you up at six?" You asked, trying to hide your nerves and surprise at the fact that she said yes.
"Sounds perfect." Emily smiled before removing her hand from yours and reaching for her book again. You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip to keep you from smiling as you turned your attention from Emily to the window. Although, if you had been looking, you would have noticed that Emily was more invested in watching you than the book in front of her.
●・○・●・○・●
It was Friday morning and you were tapping the kitchen counter waiting for your coffee to finish brewing. "There you are, lover girl!" Morgan said with a grin as he walked over to you. "You ready for your date tonight?" He asked, giving you a friendly bump on the shoulder as he stood next to you.
"Uh-huh," You said unconvincingly as you poured the coffee into your mug.
"What do you mean uh-huh? You've been following Prentiss around like a lost puppy for the last year and now you finally have your chance to win her over!" Derek asked raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know, I'm just..." You trailed off as you finished pouring your coffee. "Just what?" Derek asked confused.
"I want Emily to know how I feel about her." You said which only caused Derek to chuckle. "Trust me, she knows, you aren't exactly subtle."
You glared at him before stressing your concern, "But I'm not good at all the 'dating stuff'. I get nervous and don't know what to say," You continued with a sigh as you poured the coffee into your mug.
"Hold up! am I hearing this correctly?" Derek asked with a cheeky grin.
"Hearing what correctly?" You asked confused.
"Are you asking THE Derek Morgan for dating advice?" He said cockily as he pointed to himself dramatically.
"I- what?! No!" You spluttered.
"Ah ah, I think you were babygirl!" Derek said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder teasingly. You were about to protest when you realized that maybe Derek could help, even if it was by a long shot, probably a very long shot.
"Okay fine," You muttered as you removed his arm from your shoulder, "But if you tell Emily, I swear to god I'll kill you."
"My lips are sealed." He said pretending to zip his lips closed. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, "Alright, where do we begin?"
"Where do we begin what?" Your boss's voice said from behind you.
"I'm giving Y/l/n dating advice." Derek grinned and you sighed in embarrassment because once again your business was being aired out to the entire team.
"You're taking dating advice from him?" Hotch asked, only furthering the flush on your cheeks. "I- um." You started before Derek cut you off, "Of course she is! Who wouldn't want Derek Morgan's step-by-step guide on 'How You Get The Girl'?" He said cockily.
"Maybe you need to make a guide on How You Keep The Girl," Hotch said as he poured the coffee into his mug.
"Ouch, bossman," Derek said feigning pain while you laughed.
"I could give you some pointers, Y/n," Hotch said and you and Derek both looked at him in surprise.
"What? It's a slow day." Hotch said with a shrug. You knew the files on his desk would say otherwise but the fact that he was willing to help you despite being busy brought a smile to your lips. "Yeah, I would like that."
And that's how you found yourself sitting on Hotch's office couch while he and Derek stood in front of you, giving you pointers from the opposite ends of the spectrum.
"You don't need to rush anything, it'll come organically. Just enjoy yourself and don't put too much pressure on the night." Hotch said.
"Be bold. Women love that." Derek said.
"Just be yourself." Hotch added.
"You have to reel her in, but leave her hanging a little bit at the end so she'll come back on the next date wanting more." Derek said and your brain was starting to spin a little bit.
"Wait, so am I supposed to be bold or be myself? Because those two can't happen at the same time." You questioned.
"Be boldly yourself." Hotch said causing you to furrow your brows, "What does that even mean?"
Before anyone could answer the question you heard a knock on the door before Emily's head peaked through the door. "Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting but I have some casefiles," Emily said to Hotch as she walked in and looked at the three of you slightly confused. You immediately sat up straighter and Derek had to stifle a laugh.
"Hey, Emily." You said nervously. "We were just- um- you know..." You started, already mentally chastising yourself for your lack of words.
"We were just giving Y/l/n some pointers for her firearms requalification next week." Hotch said, easily lying and you let out a sigh of relief for his quick thinking.
"Uh huh." Emily said she put her files on Hotch's desk and immediately walked over to you on the couch. You could feel your heart rate pick up as she stood less than a foot away from you. "You know I could give you some pointers at the range this weekend. I find a hands-on approach usually works best for me." She said with a smile as she reached out to squeeze your shoulder.
"Yeah! I would like that." You said, probably way too quickly as you felt your cheeks go red at the thought of her doing a hands-on approach.
"Great, I'll see you later tonight. I'm excited" She said quietly as she used the hand that was on your shoulder to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face.
"Y-yeah me too." You stuttered which earned a small chuckle from the raven-haired women. She gave your shoulder another small squeeze before heading back to her desk.
"A Hands-on approach, huh? Can I join?" Derek teased, pulling you out of the trance that you were in.
"Shut up," You groaned as you fell back onto the couch, "Now back to the advice please."
Derek began to open his mouth but you held your hand up, "Preferably from the man who has years of marriage under his belt."
"You both wound me." Derek said as he mimed his heart being stabbed.
●・○・●・○・●
You blew out a deep breath as you stood in front of Emily's apartment door. Derek and Hotch's advice felt like they were moving a hundred miles per hour in your head. You tried to push them down as you knocked on the door.
Footsteps gradually got closer to the door before you heard the doorknob turn and were met by Emily's smile. You couldn't help but stare at her as she opened the door completely. "You look beautiful." You murmured as you admired the way her floor-length red dress clung to every curve perfectly. Her hair was curled and sat above her collar bones that were on display.
"And you look gorgeous." She said softly as she closed her door and grabbed onto your arm so you could lead her to the car. You had chosen to wear a suit to dinner, and you had never been more thankful for your intuition that you decided on a red corset underneath your blazer.
The car ride there was peaceful, chatting about work and other random things. That was one of the things you loved about Emily, even though she could turn you into a stuttering mess, she could also put you at ease better than anyone else ever could.
When you got to the restaurant you were shocked by how fancy it was. With your job you rarely had time to go out, especially not to somewhere like this. You both sat down but frowned as you opened the menu. "It's all in French." You stated with a small frown as you looked at words you didn't know the meanings of.
"Well, luckily for you, I'm fluent in French." Emily said with a wink and you decided that you truly never had been luckier.
After you both had ordered and almost lost consciousness at Emily speaking French, she reached over to grab your hand.
"Can I ask you a question?" She said.
"You just did, but you can ask me another one." You said with a teasing smile causing her to roll her eyes playfully.
"What were you doing with Hotch and Morgan, earlier?" She asked intrigued.
"Oh um, I thought we already told to you." You spluttered and the tiny hint of confidence you had two seconds ago was completely gone.
"You're a perfect shot, Y/n. If anything they need pointers from you." She chuckled and you just looked up at her, cheeks red from embarrassment.
"Well, the real reason is slightly humiliating." You muttered
"You could never humiliate yourself to me." Emily said with a small squeeze of her hand.
' I beg to differ' You thought.
You started to think back on Derek and Hotch's words from earlier, 'Be boldly yourself' was what Hotch said and you decided it was now or never.
"I really like you, Emily!" You blurted out and you saw Emily's smile grow so big her dimples were popping out. "Should I be offended that you think liking me is humiliating?" She asked.
"I- Oh my god! No! That's not what I meant-" You rushed out before Emily let out a deep laugh, "I'm kidding. Take a deep breath, honey."
The way the pet name easily fell from her lips almost made you forget what you were even talking about. Eventually, you were pulled back to your senses when you felt Emily gently playing with the rings on your finger.
"Promise me you won't laugh." You said seriously.
"I would promise you whatever you want." She smiled and if hearts could melt, yours would have in that moment.
"Well, Hotch and Derek were kind of giving me dating advice..." You said with a wince and watched as Emily fought off a smile.
"You said you wouldn't laugh!" You practically whined and Emily shook her head.
"I'm not laughing!" She said, "I just happen to find you so adorable I can't help but want to smile."
"You think I'm adorable?" You questioned, hardly believing that Emily could feel the same way you felt about her.
"I think you're a lot of things. And I happen to like all of them." Emily said with a smile so big her nose scrunched a little.
The rest of dinner couldn't have gone better. You couldn't remember the last time you had laughed or smiled this much. By the time you left the restaurant, you were both a little tipsy so you decided to take a walk in the park to sober up a little bit. It was spring time so the flowers were blooming and you two were surprisingly the only people out.
"Say something to me in French." You giggled as you clung to Emily's arm.
"Je n'ai jamais eu autant envie d'embrasser quelqu'un qu'en ce moment". Emily murmured as she looked at you.
"What does that mean?" You asked softly as you gazed up at her.
" I said 'I have never wanted to kiss someone more than I do right now.'" Emily repeated as she stopped walking so she could fully admire your features.
"What's stopping you?" You asked as you glanced down at her plush red lips.
You smiled as she pulled you closer, her soft hands cupping your cheek as your lips met. You could taste the champagne you both had from earlier and the smallest hint of her coconut chapstick as you deepened the kiss. You pulled her in by the waist, trying to get impossibly closer as you both smiled into the kiss. It was passionate, but soft, a kiss that took all of your worries off the weight of your shoulders.
Eventually, you pulled away with a smile on your lips. "You know," You started as you moved your hands from your waist and wrapped them lazily around her neck, "Derek said that I should leave you hanging a little bit so you'll come back on the next date wanting more." You smiled as she pressed a couple of quick kisses to your lip.
"Does this mean there's another date after this?" She asked as she wiped smudged lipstick off your bottom lip.
"Only if you speak French" You giggled as you admired the way her eyes shone in the moonlight.
"C'est un rendez-vous alors" (It's a date then). She said as she placed another kiss on your lips.
"I hope that was a yes." You murmured and Emily smiled, "Of course it was. How could I ever say no to you?"
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snootlestheangel · 17 hours
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This post has me thinking about Simon Riley and his mum again, but also him and his brother. Just the Riley family in general, really. This may not be the most accurate in terms of the timeline from the comics and stuff but I don't care, I'm tired, I need this, please let me have this
*tagging @stuffireadandenjoy and @deeptrashwitch just cause ;)*
Simon who has spent his whole life being a shield for his little brother. Simon who has always been told to keep an eye out for Tommy. Simon who has always stepped in the way of his father's wrath for his brother.
Simon who, as he got older, started stepping in the way of their father to keep his mother safe. Simon who has always been self-sacrificing. It's just always been a part of who he is. His mother watched him grow just knowing this man will one day walk willingly into his grave if it means his family gets to know peace for once.
Once he became a teenager, he learned how to disassociate. He learned how to shut off that part of him that led to emotional outbursts like his father was so prone to. He learned how to express everything he felt with an almost robotic nature. He was just barely thirteen years old when he became bitter. Just barely a teen when he became so indifferent to his feelings and emotions.
But his mother had always called him her "gentle boy". She saw him become disassociated and detached from the fatally human side of himself. She saw him take every hit with the same blank expression. She saw his amber eyes become haunted.
But she knew the truth. She knew he did this all to protect them. To protect Tommy. To protect her. His mother. He never should have gotten to that point. She saw that he was not "sweet" like Tommy. Tommy would tell her he loved her, would bring her little flowers he found on his way home.
Simon never did.
But Simon would quietly slip into the bathroom after one of his father's rampages with a wet towel and a glass of ice water. He wouldn't say a word as he gently dabbed at his mother's cuts. He would quietly whisper to her to drink the water to calm herself. She would watch as he would quietly pick up all the pieces of broken glass, all the overturned furniture. She'd watch as he'd gently tuck his brother into bed before crawling into his.
And so, his mum knew he was "gentle". That despite his newfound bitterness and detached manner, he was still her "gentle Simon".
But she also saw the change in him when he came home from the military. When he came home and quite literally threw the monster out of their home. When he helped her pack all her stuff and move across the city. She watched him as she had all those years; quietly picking up the pieces with a low voice and gentle hands. So far unlike his father, so far detached from the man she once claimed to love.
But Simon didn't stop there. Because he always took care of his mum and brother. Never just one or the other, always both.
And she watched him drag his brother into rehab, watched him stay by Tommy's side as he got clean. She watched Simon take on so many jobs, so many responsibilities all in the name of gently picking up the pieces and putting their broken family back together.
Mum's gentle giant.
So when she saw him in that hospital bed, nearly unrecognizable from the layers of bandages and the swollen bruises, the dark circles and bloodshot look of his eyes, it nearly broke her.
Nearly.
But when she looked into his eyes, his soft brown eyes, she knew she couldn't break. That for the first time in a long time, Simon was crying.
Her gentle giant, her little soldier, her guardian, in tears and lying almost dead in a hospital bed.
The doctor had told her he's going to struggle to speak for a while until the Glasgow smile heals. But they also told her he would have a hard time writing and moving his arms with all the damage from the numerous deep gashes in his arms and chest. So she had expected to see him in his usual disassociated state, expected to look into his eyes only to realize her Simon never came home.
But here she was, standing and shaking as she watches her fierce son break. But here she is, listening to his hoarse, broken voice do its best to call for "Mum".
And so she sat at his side for as long as he was awake, and even stayed to watch him sleep. To be his mother. To keep him safe and cared for like she should have been doing for all those years. Yet all those years, it had been the reverse.
She hated herself, but knew Simon would fight tooth and nail to prove her wrong. To prove that she was a good mother, that she had done her best in the circumstances she had been trapped in. Simon who would argue she was the best mother he could ever ask for because she had always been there. Had stayed and fought every day for him and his brother. Because she was always there to hold him when he needed it most.
Simon's recovery was a bitch to get through. He struggled with letting Tommy, Beth, and his mum take care of him. He had spent what felt like his whole life taking care of them, providing and fighting. And now he was practically bed-ridden, borderline useless as he healed.
Some days were easier than others. And some days Simon struggled to communicate what he needed, what he was feeling. And he would get frustrated, which would cause flare-ups of pain, which would make him angry. But he hated getting angry, hated the way he would huff and gesture when he couldn't find the words. He knew it was frustrating for his family; they shouldn't have to deal with this.
Simon expected pity. But he never got it.
Instead he got his mum soothing him with soft whispers and gentle hands. He got his mum quietly begging him to let her take care of him like she's supposed to; she's still his mum after all.
Instead he got Tommy being the strong one. Instead he got his little brother taking the time to pay Simon back for all those years of being the tough one.
His mother couldn't look at him without feeling guilty. Without knowing he had suffered and there was nothing she could do to magically fix it all, and it hurt. Here was her gentle, self-sacrificing boy laying here in pain and so dependent on her.
But his brother looked at him like he hung the stars. To Tommy, Simon was a hero. To Tommy, Simon was the one that literally shielded him from being beaten by their own father. Simon was the one that quite literally found him near death in a drug house and dragged him out and to rehab.
To Tommy, here was a man that should be dead and buried. Yet here he was. Breathing, bleeding. To Tommy, this was something Simon needed. Simon needed a point where he was cared for, to be repaid for all the things he had done for him and Mum.
The Riley boys have never been ones for tears, especially Simon. In fact, prior to all of this mess, Tommy could count on one hand all the times he had seen his older brother cry.
But now, in so much pain, physically and emotionally, mentally drained and tortured outside of their understanding, Simon was prone to tears. And Tommy could see this hurt Simon, made him uncomfortable and made the war he waged with himself so much worse. But to Tommy, he didn't mind. To Tommy, this was just proof that under all that bitterness, all the shoved down and bottled up emotions, his savior brother was still human.
There were only a few times Tommy cried during Simon's recovery. The first being when he saw Simon in the hospital, bandaged head held between their mother's soft hands.
The second was one Simon had gotten up and made himself a cup of tea and sat back down without any assistance, without showing any sign of unbearable pain or tearing any stitches.
The third was when they were enjoying a quiet Sunday evening as a family. They had Scooby-Doo on for Joseph, it being one of the toddler's favorite shows for some reason Tommy and Beth couldn't quite figure out. The episode playing had the gang running from a mummy, and Tommy could see the clear discomfort on his brother's still bandaged face as the monster appeared on the screen. Tommy could see tears well up in Simon's eyes as Joseph looked back at him from his seat on the floor, pointing at the screen.
Beth hadn't noticed the turmoil Simon was experiencing, and had explained that the creature was a mummy and the monster. Joseph's little face turned into a pout as he stood up and walked over to where his uncle was laying on the couch, unable to move much due to being sore from physical therapy. And Joseph reached out with his little hands and put them gently on his uncle's face.
"But he not monster." And at that moment, Beth and Tommy understood what the little tyke was trying to say: that Uncle Simon looks like the character on the screen, and that he didn't think a mummy was all that scary.
And to Simon, the pure innocent love from his nephew was all he needed. He motioned to Joseph to sit with him, and soon the two had fallen asleep together on the couch, Simon's arm wrapped around his nephew and his head resting on the little boy's.
That made Tommy cry hard enough he needed to step outside for some fresh air. He cried because there was his brother he shouldn't have anymore (Simon should be dead) with a son he never should have had (Tommy should have died in that drug house).
But they were both there, all of them alive and together, because Simon Riley was too stubborn, to committed to his family to let any of them die without first knowing what real love felt like.
So as much as Mum Riley would always call Simon her gentle giant, there would be Tommy calling him a stubborn bastard.
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fruitsyrups · 7 months
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Random yes but thank u for making that frusan art awhile ago it's adorable and i love seeing more art of this underappreciated ship :D!!!
ahhh thank you!!! frusan is so underrated FOR REAL, i guess it's probably because after Islands they all but disappeared (like i think they were only shown twice after that and that's including in Fionna & Cake (which i actually missed when i watched it bc its such a brief glimpse)) but like. still. I actually have a little idea for another frusan drawing (frieda and susan talking on a roof grown-up edition) but I have to break up the dialogue into parts & think of more Susan Reactions so it's not just Frieda monologuing at her lol
#frieda is such a compelling character to me augh because seriously living on the islands sounds like. idk. scary in an existential way#like if I lived on that tiny(?) island always with the same people and didn't have hope that I would maybe someday get to explore someplace#new and meet new people. i would explode i think.#and frieda HAS hope & the drive to follow through with it#but then susan goes robo-mode and like surely any hope is just GONE after that#thats such a crazy interesting dynamic can't believe everyone else on earth isn't also insane about this#obviously it's not susan's fault that she went robo-mode but it's still recieved as a betrayal yk. so sad :(#and then susan went after finn & they probably all assumed she was dead#AHHH??? i can't even imagine how that would have felt for frieda?? like imagine you're trying to get off the islands and your favourite#person won't go with you but she helps you. but then she betrays you (not her fault but yk) and then (i'm assuming its not even that long#after) she's sent off the islands and she goes willingly#like wowww way to rub salt in the wound susan omg (i love susan this is not susan negativity)#my little angsty hc about that is like. frieda still holds a little bit of resentment towards her for what happened but she knows she#shouldn't because what if susan was right? what if she left the islands and it wasn't safe and she DIED?#but then also what if she isn't? what if she just left and it wasn't worth coming back? what if frieda wasn't worth coming back for? yanno#stuff like that. AGHHH hhh i love frieda#and then they go adventuring together and work it out and kiss on the mouth#uhhh i'll stop myself there before i write a whole essay in the tags (or maybe i already have ahahah...) but yeah. i love frusan :3
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powderedshards · 3 months
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//Floating around the idea for a CG verse for Peacock. She'd hate it.
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queennymeria · 1 year
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having the audacity to make CJ go through wanting to die again with the others in the sink when joel lures a horde towards them in a attempt to save lydia and damien. making him fight his former lover to the death in order to ensure his last act of good will leads to lydia and damien escaping with two other people he happened to care about.
so, when he thinks he’s gonna die next to evan, he’s ultimately waiting for the infected to descend upon them only to have lydia save him for the second time, forcing him to follow her when she tells him there’s someone out there who he means a lot to (in his mind, he’s thinking of clover and savannah though he doesn’t know she’s been dead for years now 😭) which forces him to get up and follow her.
in a way, lydia is his good karma whether he wants to admit it or not — knowing that she’s someone he can call a friend, someone who actually gives a shit about him despite not liking himself most times and it’s something CJ didn’t know he desperately needed until she came along those years ago.
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cloudybarnes · 6 months
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Secret Admirer
Pairing: slytherin boys x reader
Summary: you never get mail in the morning, not until one day you receive a letter from an anonymous sender, a secret admirer. From that day forward, you’ve been getting letters, poems, and cute little notes each morning at breakfast. His words were sweet, and as you began to fall for them, your quest of figuring out who sent them only grew.
Word Count: 4.1k+
Masterlist
note: trying something new! basically I dont wanna spoil who her secret admirer is, so I’m gonna call it slytherin boys x reader hehe guess you’ll have to read til the end to see who sent her the letters ;)
✰  ✰  ✰
“Theodore Nott, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!” You shouted. 
You reached across the table in the great hall where Theo sat directly in front of you. He had stolen all of the bacon off of your breakfast plate and refused to give it up. Mornings were always quite hectic at the slytherin table, but this was downright unacceptable.
“Nope,” he smirked as he popped a piece into his mouth, “they were all out when I went up for breakfast. This bacon is mine now, sweetheart.”
You huffed, and sat back down in your seat. “You’re ridiculous. If you weren’t so damn late all the time, maybe you would have had some bacon of your own.”
“Here (Y/N),” Enzo smiled from his seat right next to you. “You can have some of my bacon.” He picked the best looking pieces and put them on your plate. 
“Aw, Enzo!” You grinned as you picked a piece up and ate it happily. “This is why you're my best friend.”
“Hey!” Pansy shouted from the other side of you. “Thought I was your best friend.”
“You didn’t give up a piece of bacon for her,” Draco smirked, “you’ve been demoted.”
Mattheo gruffed. “Enzo, you’re kind of mean, you know that? (Y/N) complains she’s all out of bacon and you jump to give her a piece, but when I say I need someone to do my charms homework for me, you don’t even try to lift a finger.”
“Mattheo, how many times do I have to tell you,” Enzo said, “I’m never gonna do your homework. And it’s not fair to compare that to giving up a piece of bacon! I don't even like bacon all that much!”
“Dude!” Blaise gasped from next to Draco, “if you don’t like bacon you should have passed that down this way a long time ago.”
Pansy scoffed and shook her head. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”
“Hey,” you whined as you ate another piece of bacon, “I’m the least idiot of the bunch, right Pans?”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, (Y/N/N).”
You grinned, about to rebuttal when the morning owl dropped an envelope in front of you.
“What’s this?” You questioned as you picked it up. 
“Uh, I think it’s quite obviously a letter, (Y/N/N).” Mattheo said as he stuffed his mouth full of bacon. “And, to think, you were trying to say you’re the least idiot of us.” He laughed.
“Oi,” Theo knocked his shoulder against Mattheo’s. “Leave her be. I’ve never seen her get a letter before, I’m curious.”
Draco shifted slightly in his seat. “Who’s it from, (Y/N/N)?”
“Nevermind who it’s from,” Blaise chuckled, “I wanna know what it says.”
“Why would you wanna know what it says and not know who it’s from?” Enzo asked, “That's like half the fun.”
You shrugged as you tore open the envelope. Opening the folds of the letter, your cheeks started to warm as you read what was inside. 
“What is it?” Pansy asked as she leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse. 
“It says, uh,” you cleared your throat, a little bit flustered. “It says ‘people love to stare up at the stars, glimmering as they might in the night sky, yet everyone is too scared to enjoy the beauty that is the sun. you are my sun, and I would willingly go blind to catch even just a glimpse of you each day.’”
You friends all stared at you in shock. Draco, Blaise and Mattheo had their mouths hung open in shock. Enzo blushed a little bit, Theo had his eyebrows raised like he appreciated the words written on the page, and Pansy all but squealed as you read the letter. 
“Oh my god, I think I’m going to combust,” Pansy swooned. 
“Who’s it from?” Theo asked.
You shrugged, “I don’t know.” You flipped the letter to the back to see if it was signed at all. “It’s only signed with a heart.”
“That is so romantic!” Pansy squealed as she clasped her hands around your arm. “Our sweet (Y/N) has a secret admirer!”
“Wonder who it could be,” Draco said as he flicked his fingers in motion to hand him the letter. 
You complied, and passed the note to him. 
“I don’t know,” he said as he flipped it all around. “The handwriting sort of looks familiar.”
“Maybe it’s someone you know?” Theo suggested as he grabbed the letter from Draco’s hands. He took it upon himself to check it out a time or two before passing it to Mattheo’s eager grasp.
“I think it’s kind of funny,” Mattheo chuckled. “What if it’s some first year trying to make their move on you?”
You shuttered. “Merlin, I sure hope not. I honestly don’t think a first year would be able to write something so beautiful.”
“Yeah, no way,” Pansy shook her head. “Mattheo, you’re just jealous you weren’t the one who sent (Y/N) this letter. Maybe she’d give you a chance if you did something romantic, or just not annoying for once.”
“First,” Mattheo said, “ouch. Second, who says I’m not the one who wrote (Y/N) this love letter?”
“Mattheo, you wouldn’t know romance if it hit you with a ten foot pole.” Pansy said. 
“Hey!” Mattheo complained. “Someone tell her I’m romantic.”
“Hell no,” Draco scoffed. “You’re ‘bout as romantic as bloody boil, mate.” 
You laughed as Mattheo scrunched his face up. The bells chimed signaling the end of breakfast and the start of first class. 
“I’m not too worried about it,” you said as you stood and started packing your stuff up. “It’s just a little letter. No harm in it.”
“But you don’t want to know who sent it?” Pansy asked as she grabbed her belongings as well. 
You shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I’m not silly enough to expect something to come from this; it’s just a note. It could be a prank for all we know.” 
“No one who writes like that is doing it as a prank,” Theo remarked. 
“Well, still, whatever the reason may be, I’m not gonna go out looking for this person. No matter how sweet the words are.” You smiled, “I’m gonna head to class, bye guys.”
On your way to class, you couldn’t help but recite the words written in the letter. They had made your heart flutter, as stupid as that sounds. You slightly resented the way it made you feel as it was only a few measly words on paper, but the romantic part of you couldn’t help but want to know who was behind them. 
✰  ✰  ✰
In your last class of the day, you finally were able to see your good friend Luna Lovegood. You had been waiting all morning to have class with her so you can inform her of the letter you received that morning. 
“And it was just so poetic, Luna. No one has ever said anything like that about me before.”
She smiled at you as you mindlessly drew on your assignment. “I think it sounds quite lovely. Do you have any idea who it may be from?”
You shook your head. “No idea. I don’t even think I know anyone who writes, well, anything.” 
“What about that boy Enzo you always hang out with?” Luna suggested. “I’ve got him in my literature class, he’s very talented.”
You thought to yourself for a second. Could it be possible Enzo was your secret admirer? You’d been friends for so long, and he’d always be especially kind to you.
Well, he’s especially kind to everyone, now that you think about it. 
“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I guess I just never would have expected it to be one of my friends, let alone Enzo.”
“I wouldn’t rule out your group of friends,” Luna said with a smile, “it could really be any one of them.” 
“You think so?” 
“Well, maybe not all of them, but I think it could be a good place to start if you were wanting to figure out who it is.”
As you pondered over Luna’s words, Slughorn made it a point to reiterate there was no talking allowed during the assignment. 
You rolled your eyes and got back to work, waiting for this class to be over so you could finally figure out who wrote you the letter. 
✰  ✰  ✰
Back in the common room you saw Pansy, Draco, and Enzo sitting on the couches. 
“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Pansy smiled as she scooted over and patted the spot next to her. “Find out anything new about your secret admirer?”
You smiled with a roll of your eyes as you sat with her. You kicked your shoes off and folded your legs under your body. “No, but I think I’ve got an idea brewing of how to find them.”
“Oh,” Draco smirked from the couch across from you. He folded his arms over his chest, “do tell, (Y/N), I’m very curious to see who it could be.” 
You shook your head, teasingly, “not a chance, Malfoy. I’m not giving up my secrets til I get to the bottom of this thing.” 
Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, doll, if you wanna be secretive about your already secret admirer, I respect it.”
Enzo shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. “It’s kind of strange though that they went out of their way to write something to you but kept it a secret. It just makes me a little apprehensive.”
“Oh, chill out, scaredy cat,” Pansy said. “(Y/N) will be fine, and if it’s someone weird at least she’s got us to look out for her.”
You grinned and wrapped your arms around Pansy’s neck. “Quit getting all sweet on me, Pans.”
She chuckled and playfully pushed you away. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not getting sweet, don’t get it twisted.”
You chuckled. “I think I’m gonna head up, got lots of scheming to get to,” you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 
You stood up from the couch and Pansy stood with you. “Farewell, boys, it’s been awful as usual.” She said with a smirk. 
“Thank Salazar you’re leaving,” Draco said to her. “Your presence was such a nuisance.” 
Pansy snarled at him and dramatically turned away to head up the stairs. You and Enzo shared a short laugh before you followed her up the stairs to your shared bedroom. 
✰  ✰  ✰
The next morning, you were last to the dining hall for breakfast. 
“Finally, she makes it,” Mattheo called out before taking a swig of his orange juice. 
You huff and settle into your seat between Enzo and Pansy. “I know, I overslept something horrible this morning.”
Since you were so late, the kitchen staff had already stopped serving breakfast meaning you were going without this morning. 
Theo glanced at you from across the table and pushed his plate towards you. “Here,” he said, “take anything you want.”
You looked down at saw scrambled eggs, french toast, and sausage links on his plate. 
“Really?” You grinned as you grabbed a sausage link from his plate. 
Theo nodded, “yeah, can’t have you go without eating. Lord only knows what a monster you can be without food.” He teased with a small smirk. 
You crinkled your nose up at his and grabbed a piece of french toast as well. “I’m gonna let that slide since you were nice enough to give up your breakfast. Don’t make me regret my kindness.”
Theo chuckled and pulled his plate back to him, glancing up at you before delving back into his plate. 
Mattheo tried to reach his hand over to Theo’s plate but was met with a slap on the wrist. 
“Ow!” Mattheo said as he cradled his wrist in fake hurt. “Theo, how could you? I thought we had something special.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “You got more food on your plate then the rest of us combined. I think you’ll be alright.”
You chuckled, but a thought crept into your mind. “Hey, guys, uh, did the post come today?” You asked. 
Draco raised his eyebrow with a smirk. “Waiting for another letter, are we?”
Your face burned as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna get to the bottom of who it is.” 
“You’ll find ‘em, (Y/N/N),” Pansy said, “even if I have to interrogate everyone we know. We’ll get down to the bottom of it.” 
Just as she said that, the morning owl came swooping down towards you and dropped a small slip of paper in front of you. 
Draco smirked, “Looks like someone really wants your attention, (Y/N/N).”
You tried to hold back your smile as you unfolded the small post it note. 
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read out to them, “'I love to see you smile, especially when you’re smiling at me.’ Aw, that’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“Don’t tell me you’re starting to get sweet for this mystery man,” Blaise interrupts. 
You shrug as you fold the note back up. “I don’t know, it is pretty sweet, no? And this must mean it’s someone I know personally because they said I smile at them.”
“Oh Godric,” Mattheo grinned, “you’ve fallen for a mystery man.”
“No I haven’t!” You protest. “I just think it’s sweet and now I know it’s someone I’m friends with and not some creepy first year.” 
“Wait,” Theo said, “how do you know it’s someone you’re friends with?”
“Because it says I smile at them,” you said obviously. “Who else do I smile at?”
“(Y/N), I hate to break it to you,” Pansy said as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “but you’re the most smiley slytherin I’ve ever met.”
You shrugged off her hand with a fake glare. “Hey! Give me some credit, I can be bad sometimes.”
Enzo chuckled, this is the first time he spoke all conversation. “You’re too sweet to be bad, (Y/N/N).”
You grinned and playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just know it’s someone I know. I can feel it. It’s not some random person, it can’t be.” 
The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. You and your friends stood up to leave. You couldn’t help but think about the notes you received, pondering on who it could possibly be. 
✰  ✰  ✰
“Post is running late this morning,” Draco noted as the clock struck 8:26 with no sight of the morning owl. 
You were a tad disappointed. You had pondered all day yesterday about who it could be. You’ve narrowed it down quite a bit, and you think Luna may be on to something. While you don’t exactly think for sure that it’s Enzo, you do think you’ve narrowed it down to your group of close friends. 
You really just can’t see anyone else knowing you well enough to be this fascinated with you. The only one out of your friend group that you completely had ruled out is Blaise. 
Blaise was definitely out because out of the whole friend group, he was the least close with you. Frankly, you guys just don’t talk nearly as much as you talk to the rest of them. 
“Great,” Mattheo gruffed, “how will I be entertained this morning without (Y/N)‘s secret stalker and his confession of love.”
Okay, maybe Mattheo was out too. 
“Oi,” Theo piped up. “Don’t knock it too hard, (Y/N) seems to be enjoying herself with the letters.” 
You blushed a little as you shrugged. “I don’t want to seem weird by how invested I am in it, but I just think it’s sweet. No one’s ever really expressed this kind of feeling for me, so… you know,” you shrugged awkwardly, your face definitely beet red by now. 
“Well I for one am extremely invested in this,” Pansy said. “I’m lowkey jealous that I’m not the one with a secret admirer. What I wouldn’t give for someone to think of me that way.” 
“Maybe someday someone will like you, Pansy,” Enzo said reassuringly. 
“We might all be dead by the time that happens, but who knows, it might happen,” Mattheo said. 
Pansy gasped with a glare. “Wow what crawled up your ass this morning?”
Mattheo shrugged and focused his attention back to his breakfast plate. 
“Anyway,” Draco said, “I’m intrigued as well. I think I’ve got an idea who it could be, but I'm not quite positive.” 
You parked up at that. “Really? Who’s your guess?”
Draco smirked, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He teased. 
You glared at him, “Malfoy, if you know who it is you better spill.”
“I’m not saying I know who it is, I’m just saying I have a hunch at who it may be.”
“Oh!” Enzo exclaims as he points up in the air, “here comes the owl.”
You grin in anticipation as the owl drops a little note down in front of you. It was a larger note than yesterday, but this time it didn’t have something sweet written on it. 
It had a clue. 
“It just says ‘being your friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, though I’d be lying if I said i didn’t want to be more.’” You read. 
“So it is one of you!” Pansy shouted as she pointed her finger towards everyone at the table. 
Draco smirked, “that was my hunch. ‘Had a feeling it was one of these blokes.”
“And who says it’s not you, Malfoy?” Mattheo questioned with a raise of his brow. 
“Please,” Draco scoffed, “if I wanted to woo (Y/N) she’d be mine by now.” 
“Oh big talk from down that end,” Pansy rolled her eyes. 
“I could get anyone I want,” Draco puffed his chest. “I don’t need to be anonymous to do so.” 
“Hey, don’t hate on my letters, Draco.” You complained. “Least they got the balls to say something.” 
“Barely counts as having balls when they won’t even say who they are.” Mattheo countered. 
You huffed as your table fell into somewhat of a silence. Conversations picked up without you as your thoughts trailed off. 
Theo had been extremely quiet this entire time. While he was never the chatter bug, it was odd having gone almost the entire breakfast without hearing from him. 
As everyone else was engaged in conversation, you stared at the boy sitting across from you. His head was down as he played with his breakfast, pushing it around with his fork. 
You lightly kicked his leg under the table. 
Theo’s head perked up. His eyes stared into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t remember what you wanted to say to the boy. 
His eyebrow raised in question as a small smirk glazed his lips. 
You blushed a little. “I-uh just wanted to see if you were alright. You didn’t really say too much the whole time we’ve been here.”
Theo shrugged as his smile dropped. “yeah, just don’t got too much input.” 
Your heart swelled. You really had turned each morning to revolve around you and your secret pen pal. 
“Sorry, Theo. I didn't mean to annoy you with all my talk of the letters.”
He shook his head. “You could never annoy me, doll.” 
Your heart beat like crazy. 
“Still, though, I feel bad about how much I’ve put into this. Let’s talk about something else.” You offered, “how’s class going?”
Theo chuckled and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Shit. I’m drowning in assignments and got two quizzes coming up that I’m just not ready for.” 
The bell rang. 
Theo groaned. “Got one next class. I think I might skip, though. Give myself some more time to prepare for it.”
As everyone started walking out of the dining hall, you grabbed Theo’s arm and pulled him back. 
His eyes widened slightly, but quickly reverted back to normal. 
“Maybe I‘ll skip with you,” you said, “if you’ll have me, that is. I can help you study. What class is it?”
Theo hesitated. “It’s, uh, herbology. ‘m not very good with plants and all that.”
You grinned, “I can help! I’m not too bad with flowers and plants.”
Theo nodded, “yeah, I could really use the help.”
“Okay, you wanna go to the library then?”
Theo shook his head. “I’ve got a good spot. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. 
You followed him all the way out to the courtyard towards the opposite end of the school. You walked until you reach a large bench with intricate designs on the backing and arm rests. 
Theo took a seat. “Figured this would be good as any. Least now we can look at some plants up close, eh?”
You chuckled and took a seat next to him. “Yeah, sounds great, Theo. You got your textbook?”
He nodded and dug through his bag to pull it out. Once he handed it to you, you started flipping through the pages to get to the important material. 
“I’ve got the herbology exam 4th period, so I can help you study and it’ll help me study too! Win, win.”
Theo grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sounds good, doll.”
Your cheeks blushed. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. “I like when you call me doll.”
Your smile dropped. “Oh, geez, I did not mean to say that out loud.”
Theo’s face remained blank. That just made you more nervous. 
“Great, now I’ve weirded you out.” You exasperated. “I’m really sorry, Theo, I didn’t mean to-“
“I’m not weirded out, doll.” He cut you off. “Was just a little stunned is all. Didn’t expect you to say something like that.”
You thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than it already was, but somehow it did. 
“Well, still,” you mumbled as you looked down at the textbook again, “sorry.”
Theo sat for a minute, watching as you flipped through the book. Your eyebrows furrowed a little in aggravation. You were annoyed at yourself for how stupid you were being. It was Theo for Salazar sake. 
Though, you couldn’t help but admire the boy. He was gorgeous, for one, but he was also charming and witty. He was sweet and generous. You couldn’t deny you were attracted to him, but you had never thought he would see you in the same light. 
“(Y/N)?” Theo called. 
You looked up into his eyes. 
Theo stared at you, taking in each one of your features. Your eyes, your lips, your nose. You shifted a little, way too aware of his gaze on you. 
“Theo?” You called back. His gaze shifted back to your eyes. 
Before you could say anything, he softly spoke, “I’m the one sending you those letters, (Y/N/N).” 
You stared at him in shock. 
No way. 
“Y-you’re the one who wrote me the letters?” 
He slowly nodded his head. Theo’s lip was drawn in between his teeth. “Is, uh, are you disappointed?”
“What?” you exclaimed. 
He shrugged, “I mean, you just really seemed to like the letters, and I know you wanted to know who it was, so I just hope I haven’t disappointed you in the revelation.”
You shook your head. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.”
Theo’s head shot up to look at you. “Really?”
You smiled and nodded. “Mhm, I like you Theo. I have for a while now, actually, I just thought you’d never give a chance.”
He laughed. “You thought I’d never give you a chance? I thought you’d never give me a chance.”
You laughed loudly together. When it finally subsided to quiet chuckles, you said,  “I really like you, Theo.”
Theo’s smile grew. In a quick moment, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. 
You gasped against his lips, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. His textbook fell off your lap as he pulled you closer by the waist. 
You kissed him until you couldn’t kiss anymore. Finally pulling back, Theo’s grin was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, even with his lips a little puffy from your kiss. 
“I really like you, Theodore.”
He grinned, “I really like you, more (Y/N).”
8K notes · View notes
hazelfoureyes · 29 days
Text
The Safeword is RadioApple (part 1)
I’m gonna go ahead and apologize right now
Lucifer x FemaleReader x Alastor
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱✨NEW✨
Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, fem reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, cervix hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main
Minors dni
“Sir.”
Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.
“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”
“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”
But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”
With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”
“Daaad!” She groaned.
“Yeah yeah, I’m going.” 
Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”
Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.
He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your silk sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”
Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.
“Luci.”
Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.
It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.
Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.
You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more. 
Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.
That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.
No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.
For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.
Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.
“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.
Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.
“You can say no.” You added quickly. 
“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.
“Many reasons.” You added quicker. 
“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.
You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”
He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.
“You what now?”
His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. 
“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed her.”
If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”
But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder. 
“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.
You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”
Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.
Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.
Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.
“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.
“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my girl.’
“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”
He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest,  hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.
Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”
He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you. 
Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission. 
Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises. 
You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.
Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest. 
You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”
A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.
Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.
He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. 
Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.
Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.
When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.
One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants. 
“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.
Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”
“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.
“Three’s a crowd.” 
“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, no preparation, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.
Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men. 
“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek. 
Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible. 
Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft.  He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.
“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.
Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—
“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?
“See? She can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself. 
With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.” 
Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your sopping cunt. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it. 
When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.
Tempting.
But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms. 
He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands. 
Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time– 
Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself. 
Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again. 
Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.
Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your clit with his middle finger. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your cervix with every kiss of his hips. 
You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your jaw lock. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. 
With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed. 
Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants. 
“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you. 
Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”
With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed walls. 
“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci. 
Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide between your folds with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it. 
With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your lips. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn. 
As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway. 
Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon. 
Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling doe. 
 What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.
What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?
Your nails cut into his skin, and you were sure you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your hole got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths. 
Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead. 
You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt. 
Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected. 
As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.
Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.
He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.
Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would wretch shut, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper. 
It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.
Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.
Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.
The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If she needs you to stop, she’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever she can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your pussy clenched around him earned you a hiss.
He began to move again, the new position causing him to rub against your clit as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more. 
“Are you sure she isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.
“Nonsense. Can’t you feel her? Or does she just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.
You tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back. 
Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.
He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before. 
He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were soaking wet, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock threatening to push past your cervix. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning. 
You could feel him spreading open your womb. The feeling of your cunt pressing down on him from all sides including the front was driving him mad.
You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Screams that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.
A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.
An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.
The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.
As Luci became lost in the sensation of your wet pussy trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.
Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”
Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.
The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”
Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”
Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised womb.
Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.
Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.
Second, rage.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you. 
“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”
Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.
“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.
You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.
Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”
But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”
Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.
There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”
༻Masterlist༺
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malkaviian · 1 year
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ive had a horrible idea actually
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flamingpudding · 25 days
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That's our baby hero
Protective Amity Park Au but maybe not like you would think?
Danny's identity wasn't as hidden as Sam, Tucker, Jazz and him thought. His identity was an open secret, in fact his whole town knew that Danny was their hero Phantom, well everyone but his oblivious parents but they were a case of their own. The thing was his entire town knew about his oh so big secret identity and that he was the one trying to save them from ghosts 90% of the time as well as from his own parents crazy inventions at times.
Dash shoving him into lockers like a bully? Danny didn't look good and Dash tried in crude ways to give him reasons to skip classes to rest. It also later was a good move to hide him from snoopy government agents also known as the Guys in White or GIW for short. Really his bullying played perfectly into him finding creative ways to get Danny to skip classes for rest.
Valerie hunting him and other ghosts? Well she was hunting him in the very beginning, but then it became an attempt to make him stop fighting the ghosts on their behalf but in the end it turned into her trying her best to be the support to him that Sam and Tucker couldn't be in a fight. Let alone taking 'night shifts' from him so Danny could get at least a good nights rest every now and then.
Sam's parents the Mansons? Sure they didn't like him that much from the start anyway but most of their anger later stemmed from the danger their daughter was willingly get into to help their reckless teenhero that shouldn't be a hero at his age anyway. Let alone shoulder the responsible for their entire town at the age of 14.
Tuckers parents? They were glad any time Danny stayed over with their son, even attempting to subtitle convince the boys to have more sleepovers at their home. Surely being a hero with ghost powers and living in a house of ghost hunting parents wasn't easy on Danny. They were glad that they could give him some peace at their home. They willingly ignored it when Danny showed up late night in Tuckers room, getting patched up by their son.
The entire town apparently hating him with all these negative newspapers and comments? All fake in a desperate attempt to get the 14 years old teenager with a bad sleeping schedule and powers to stop risking his damned life, half-life. Surely if they appeared not thankful the kid would get the hint and stop playing hero. Like seriously he was a kid! Who's bright idea was it to let a kid fight these dangerous appearing ghosts?! Oh right the poor kids parents were incompetent when it came to ghost hunting and it wasn't like they could just up and do it without destroying the kids confidence. Plus the GIW were no help either.
Vlad becoming Mayor was not exactly their plan but they thought maybe they could use that as some help to convince Danny more that he didn't need to play hero for them just because he got powers now. That didn't turn out like they hoped and THAT plan was dismissed quickly. Especially when the GIW showed up. They learned their lesson sort of quickly after that, at least when it came to people from out of Amity did not mean well.
Lancer, at first when Danny first showed up as Phantom, had attempted to get into contact with the Justice League several times, so that Danny would actually get the professional help he needed and get some sleep at night as well as the time he needed for his schooling so that heroing wouldn't be the only career path he would be forced into. The additional point of getting the kid training too for his powers was also very tempting, there are only so many chemical breakers they could allow the him to break before they HAD to sort of ban him from touching them again.
But when the GIW appeared in their town they stopped trying to reach the Justice League. Suspecting that that was the answer they sent in regards to their SOS calls. Amity Parks protectiveness over their teenheroes that sacrificed to much skyrocketed. They started to sabotage the Agents subtitle. Always working within the limits of the orders and finding the loop holes.
"Oh but we did comply, not our fault that you guys tripped and let Phantom escape."
"Wupp, sorry I got that from the Fentons for self defence, but it looks like I need to work on my aim."
"I am so sorry, my car is stuck! See my tire is popped I can't get out of your vans way."
The fact that Amity Parks weather report was more a report on the ghosts, the Fenton parents and the GIW was all a tactic for them all to keep each other informed so they could execute any step to ensure their -by now- towns sweethearts safety. Even if they still tried to turn the poor kid away from being a hero with all the unnecessary mean comments and articles.
So when one day a hero from the Justice League showed up it was predictable that they all were suspicious of it. Even more so when that hero came with a bunch of teenage heroes. Apparently they were here to investigate a bunch of ignored calls one of the teenheroes found in their call logs. Some of the adults eyed Lancer who in turn was glaring at the heroes fessed up, he hadn't attempted to call them ever since they decided to sent the GIW into their town. Which apparently was more of a cover as these heroes showed an interest in the Fentons research of Ectoplasm pretty quickly.
Well now Batman and his flock of bats and birds were confronted with a very unhappy town that was apparently very protective of their hero and 'accidentally' continued to manage to block them from making contact with said teenhero. And who where these Guys in white suits that tried to suck it up to Batman? Better question why was the entire town suddenly hostile towards them when they started to look into the Fenton Family that had a connection to Lazarus Water?
Meanwhile Danny is confused by his towns newfound favouritism towards Batman and his entourage and how whenever he went to find out what was that about everyone seems to deflect. Even Sam, Tucker and Jazz were confused by what was going on!
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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Monster AU where Konig’s new human pet is terrified of him, of all monsters, until he kills some lowly recruit who is groping her and making her cry. Now she won’t leave his side and calls him her hero
You were terrified. It's only natural - you are taken hostage to a monster who treats you like a pet, used for breeding purposes and kept chained to the nest like an animal. You're terrified, crying every night - begging for him to stop, to just let you go or kill you. The sex with him isn't painful, but you're terrified of the pleasure he and his eggs are bringing you. He is not eating you alive or forcing you to entertain his soldiers, but his possessiveness only scares you more. He is not sharing you with anyone, but he is marking you as his - as nothing but a little doll to his amusement. You hate him, you hate this whole situation, and you hate yourself for being weak. Then something changes. He is allowing you to go out sometimes - you're still in a tracked collar, of course, with little bells to help too, but you can stretch your legs. You're still terrified of him, and you enjoy being away for at least a few minutes per day - right before someone approaches you. A soldier of his, someone is low-ranked enough to not have his personal pet. Someone is desperate enough to think that the girl roaming around the base if a free game - and you're weak, pathetic even. In your attempts to fight the monster off, you can't think of anything but to beg Konig to come - to help you. You're terrified of him and yet, you beg for him to come. Konig is so glad about the mating connection - he can sense your distress immediately, the way your cries are reaching his ears and tugging on his soul. He is going to get you immediately, ripping apart the dumb recruit who decided to take something that didn't belong to him - and you're so, so thankful to him for this. You're crying and hugging him and pressing your head against his chest, thanking him so so profusely. This is the first time you had touched him willingly, and he can't wait to make you thank him properly - noticing how you suddenly stopped trembling around him. How you started to roll over in the nest to hug him, to kiss him - you're still scared, but you know he is the least dangerous thing to you. Konig is holding you as softly as he can, whispering that he would kill anyone who will try to take you away from him. That no one should ever dare to touch you again.
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queen-of-fanfics · 10 months
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Stay Away From Him
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.
A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!
Part 2
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“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, Peter!”
“Hey, Y/N”
“Oh hey, Peters.”
“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.
“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”
This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.
Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.
“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.
“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.
“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.” 
“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in. 
Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.
“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”
“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.
You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.
“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.
He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.
“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.
“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.
“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.
“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.
“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.
Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.
“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie. 
“What? You keeping her hostage now?”
All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving. 
“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie. 
“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.
“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.” 
“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.
“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”
“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.
“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”
“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”
“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders. 
Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises. 
“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.” 
“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”
Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out. 
“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”
“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.” 
Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”
“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.
“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else. 
You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off. 
“Come up here and help me look at this.” 
Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.
“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”
You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.
“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances. 
“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”
“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”
“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.” 
Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras? 
The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.
About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”
Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”
“You two have gotten close?”
Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”
A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”
“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.” 
Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues. 
“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. 
“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now. 
“I said ‘you should stay’-”
“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”
“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones. 
“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”
“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.
“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.
“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”
“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!” 
“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.
“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.” 
All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.
“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.
Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber. 
After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings. 
Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening. 
“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”
Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.
“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”
Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.” 
And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home. 
5K notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 3 months
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VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.
✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )
✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.
✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
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absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less. 
you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu. 
he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard. 
he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend. 
okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.
you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.
there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him. 
you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust. 
rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day. 
much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her. 
they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.
rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.
his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned. 
things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.
then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl. 
maki zenin.
you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.
it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.
your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call. 
yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul. 
but you were never strong when it came to him. 
and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.
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voicemail #1  - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”
this isn’t like him. 
even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood. 
you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.
but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call. 
to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord. 
panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.
even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?” 
you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to. 
you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.
when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you. 
but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him. 
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voicemail #2  - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.” 
oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together  and just…take in the quiet. 
be close to one another.
so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.
it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’ 
maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care. 
you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years. 
the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.
he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.
“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”
you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“
“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace. 
the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.” 
okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.” 
“yeah?” 
“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“ 
your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real. 
confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood. 
“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.
“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.
“really? you don’t look like it.” 
running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.” 
“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.” 
needs it more than he needs you.
“okay.” you say simply, blankly.
“okay.” he says back. 
the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten. 
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voicemail #3 -  “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”
yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect. 
you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.
its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.
“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“ 
you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.
“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”
without you.
you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.” 
your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”
the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat. 
“i’m always here for you, yuuta.” 
“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.” 
you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep. 
ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest. 
“i love you too.”
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voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”
for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy. 
but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart. 
even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.
“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”
kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.
he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.
okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name
“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”
“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”
the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.” 
he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone. 
you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold. 
but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.
“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“
“and?” 
“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”
hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice. 
through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.
his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up. 
“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness. 
he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.” 
he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”
there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.
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voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”
there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.
there were no secrets, no major ones.
until now.
“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”
the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.
with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.
your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.
as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.
and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.
he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.
“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”
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voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!” 
( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )
yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left. 
he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.
and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.
it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.
was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages  the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.
yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.
yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…
yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?
yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.
yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.
yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.
you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.
“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.
you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.
“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”
“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”
“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden…y-you’re different!”
you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”
he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!” 
“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“ 
“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?” 
“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!” 
the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening. 
“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”
your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”
yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.
before you can hear him say that he loves you too.
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voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.” 
the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.
after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend. 
gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.
sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you. 
so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person. 
it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.
and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.
tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot. 
his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.
yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.
he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.
your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.
you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth. 
his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.
“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!”  the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.
“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit. 
he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour  like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”
yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets. 
“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.
every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm. 
“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”
blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…” 
his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist. 
your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free. 
“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.” 
you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck. 
that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“ 
“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine. 
“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”
all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss. 
“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.
“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.
you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length. 
yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit. 
“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.” 
“never?” you ask, hiccuping.
“never.” he moans.
you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together. 
the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just  kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.” 
“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.”  you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.
yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!” 
you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine  and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all. 
“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.” 
“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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boiohboii · 3 months
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How would that keep us safe?
(Kimi Raikkonen x pregnant!wife!reader)
Inspo
When a formula 1 driver's car fails on them, they would a. be angry, b. go straight to their engineers, c. stay in the team's motor home.. but not kimi raikkonen, no sir, especially not with his pregnant wife on a yacht on her own.
or
in which Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber and Jenson Button make fun of the infamous ice man for being head over heels for his wife so he just decides to double down.
WARNINGS: not proof read (when do I ever proof read this stuff), no sense of timeline whatsoever, just a small crackhead fic that came to mind. Thank you insta algorithm for the Kimi edits, the man is so fine omg, solid dilf right here people.
Masterlist
"God," yn huffed as she, for an accurate description, waddled alongside her husband, Kimi Raikkonen into the Mclaren garage "if you don't keep it in your pants next time I will chop it off."
"Yes dear." Kimi replied with a smile on his face, hiding his laughter as best as he could to spare himself the lecture that would inevitably make him laugh harder- he can't help it, his wife is much more adorable trying to give him an earful with her puffed cheeks, stomping feet and her belly looking like it's about to pop at any second.
It hadn't even been 30 minutes before yn started to feel the heat getting to her, making her fan herself with the collar of her shirt while glaring at the fan that evidently did nothing to help her out.
"Everything alright dear?"
"No, no!" yn turned to look at her husband "it's so fucking hot i feel like my skin is melting off and your daughter wouldn't stop kicking my bladder so no, nothing is fucking alright!"
While the engineers around gulped, scared for their lives, Kimi bit his lips to avoid smiling at his very cute, frustrated wife. He had gotten used to her snapping at him whenever any little thing annoyed her, he knew it's the least he can do and she always apologises so no harm done really.
"It's okay, here, how about you go watch the race from the yacht? Will that be better?" Kimi whispered as he stood behind his wife with his hands underneath her belly, lifting it up to give his wife some rest.
"Oh my god," yn groaned in relief "I really needed that, I love you."
Staying like that for a few minutes, yn agreed that it would be much better if she watched the race from the yacht in her swimming suit, the atmosphere and the clothing would definitely make it much more comfortable for her. And just as she was about to leave, new company arrived.
"Ohhh, did he piss you off enough to leave him before a race?"
"Damn Kimi, don't make a pregnant woman that mad, especially not your wife."
The voices of Sebastian Vettel and Jenson Button joined the couple, along with the laugh of Mark Webber.
"Oh, shut up." As much as Kimi tells yn that he would rather eat chalk than willingly hang out with these guys, he is indeed fond of them.
"He didn't piss me off," yn pulled her husband down so she could kiss him, smiling upon hearing two of the three newcomers groan and a whistle (of course it's sebastian) "i just feel like I will burst any second so I am going to watch the race from One More Toy"
"What the fuck is one more toy?"
"Oh, it's kimi's yacht."
"Our yacht."
Placing one palm on her belly while his other rests on her cheek, Kimi smiled at his wife "be safe, yes?"
"Yeah, of course."
Giving her a kiss on her forehead, Kimi let go of his wife, watching her head towards his yacht with the help of one of the interns.
"Be safe." Came the mocking voice of Jenson Button
"I'll be so safe." Sebastian continued as they both reincarnated the way Kimi and Yn were standing a few seconds ago; Jenson's hands on Sebastian's stomach and cheek
"I'm going to kill you on this track."
Deciding to join, Mark stood in between Sebastian and Jenson, breaking up their proximity and placing his arms around their shoulders "but how would that keep us safe?"
"An engine failure, yet again from Mclaren."
"It seems like Raikkonen is the one who will retire this race, what a shame."
"Everyone was hoping for him to win this race, he had been phenomenal these past few races giving one stellar performance after the other, truly a waste to see him go this early into the race."
"Well, it looks like Kimi is going to walk to the garage."
"That is insane, it's like a 20 minute walk, no?"
"And we are back, and oh my god, there is Kimi Raikkonen in his yacht, he hasn't got a shirt on, with his wife on his lap, the father to be could not care less in this moment ladies and gentlemen."
"What a legend, the Iceman strikes again everyone, leaving the race to be on a yacht with his family. And oh my god, it seems that the couple are having the time of their lives on their yacht 'one more toy' with snacks all around and their hands all over each other."
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milf-lover42 · 11 months
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I’ll never be over how Shauna sees the group’s faces in her dream after they’ve eaten the baby. It’s such a fascinating insight into Shauna’s mind to me. Lottie looks practically childlike. She makes an attempt to wipe her face but not in an ashamed way, it’s simply a casual motion to wipe her lip, as if the actual amount of blood on her face doesn’t exist to her and it’s simply a crumb that rests on her lip. It seems like she has orchestrated this, but she’s unaware what they are really doing, as if she doesn’t understand this is Shauna’s BABY.
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Akilah looks terrified, she’s sorry she’s doing this but she can’t help it. She’s almost about to throw up thinking about what she’s doing but she’s just so hungry she can’t help but eat what’s been given.
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Van nearly snarls like a fucking wolf which I find FASCINATING. Van has never been aggressive toward Shauna, but she IS a strong ally to Lottie, and that seems to be enough of a threat to Shauna.
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Taissa is very clearly being seen as her sleepwalking self, with the quick movements, sloppy chewing, and animalistic stare. Natalie is desperately ashamed of what she has done, trying to wipe away the evidence and so sorry that she has betrayed Shauna in such a way but she just couldn’t stop herself. It’s as if Shauna knows neither of them could be consciously capable of this, even in her dream. These two have been her strongest allies and Shauna doesn’t believe they would willingly hurt her in this way, but it could still happen somehow. Natalie also has the least amount of blood on her, like she was the last to dig in, or ate the least and most carefully. Being as respectful as possible until the last second.
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And Misty. Misty looks at Shauna as if she wants to worship her. She looks for a moment like “ah shit, listen Shauna I know this looks bad” but the most prominent message from her expression is as if she is grateful to Shauna for feeding them again. Shauna has been the one keeping them fed for so long. First with Jackie, and now her baby.
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natsarrownecklacx · 4 months
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Ms Ceo And Her Assistant
Wanda Maximoff x Reader Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count- 1,475
Summary- Your Wanda’s girlfriend, her toy, but she’s too busy to play with you, so she asks her assistant for help.
Warnings- Smut, minors this fic is not for you, edging, dom / sub dynamics, mommy Wanda, mean Wanda, overstimulation, mentions of punishment, sharing, switch Nat
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There isn’t much in this life that Wanda Maximoff loves more than her job.
She gets to boss people around, call them on their half assed or lazy shit without fear of repercussions, make thousands of dollars each week and that’s not even a sliver of why she loves it so much.
In essence though, if she had to boil it all down to one particular thing, Wanda would say it’s the power that she loves most.
Owning and running one of the leading technology companies in the world comes with quite a bit of power, along with a reputation to enhance it.
She loves the confidence it brings her. The control she has over others, it’s exhilarating, it’s addictive. She’s not sure she’ll ever get enough of it.
That’s why, when she met you, she knew she would never leave you. Just a poor little baby in need of a mommy, a strong dominating hand to guide you through life in every way possible.
You offered her an outlet for all her pent up energy, a place for all her needs and desires to not only be fulfilled but deepened.
You loved the way she treated you. Loved when she would edge you for hours, under the guise of teaching you patience. Or bend you over her knee and spank your ass raw, her way of “teaching her baby how to behave properly.”
Or when she’d make you cum over and over again for hours, purely for her amusement.
You adored soft moments with her, when you’d curl up on the couch, her hand running through your hair mindlessly as you watched your favorite show.
Or then after care she gave you after each and every session, when she’d treat you so gently.
You took it all from her willingly, the good and the bad, knowing that you wouldn’t know what to do without her. That you love her. Need her. More than you could ever want or need for anything else.
Right now Wanda has you sitting next her in her office. Your legs are forced apart, tied to either side of the chair she lured you into with the false hope of a reward.
She’s had you spread open for her for hours, tears streaming down your face and your legs quivering pathetically as she edges you, rubbing her fingers tortuously over your bundle of nerves, pulling you right up to the edge each time before pulling away entirely and delighting in the desperate moans and whimpers that leave your mouth at being denied.
“Please.” You beg, after your eleventh time of being edged by the older woman.
Your slick has long overrun your folds, now spread over the inside of your thighs, down the chair and pooling below you, making wet noises as you try to squirm and grind into the plastic surface, desperate beyond belief for any sort of relief.
“Mommy it hurts.” You whine, feeling frustration build inside of you when she doesn’t so much as shift her gaze from her laptop screen to you. The entire time she’s been torturing you she’s been on a business call.
She has you sitting just out of sight of the camera, but close enough that her wandering arm doesn’t cause suspicion when she moves to touch you.
Her mic is muted, her role in this meeting being to mostly listen and observe, only having to drop an option here and there. You know better than to make any noise when she speaks, the spanking she gave you last time flashing in your memory every time she hits that unmute button.
“Quite, brat.” She snaps, turning her attention away from the screen for half a second. “Mommy is busy. I’ll deal with you later.”
And usually that would be enough. The promise of her undivided attention, good or bad, would be enough to placate you. But not this time. This time the need burning inside you is pushing you to beg for more, to demand more to sate the hunger inside you.
“Mommy, I need it.” You push, seeing the anger and slight surprise in her eyes at the fact that you didn’t quieten down when she’d told you to.
“Are you that desperate for it?” She scoffs, moving her eyes to the pool of arousal between your legs.
You nod feverishly, more pleas and promises to be good falling from your lips.
“Fine.” She answers and you swear you can feel yourself deflating in relief only for it to be replaced by confusion when Wanda calls for her assistant instead of signing off her call.
“You called for me miss?” The red headed woman asks, standing in the now open door of Wanda’s office.
You can see she’s trying not to look at you, so can Wanda, a smirk lining her face as she tells her assistant to enter the room and close the door behind her.
The redhead does so, keeping her eyes locked on Wanda as she crosses the room, intent on not getting herself into trouble by allowing her eyes to drift to you.
“Is there anything I can help you with Ms Maximoff?” She asks, and the sultry tone of her voice has you whimpering, so desperate that the slightest thing sets you off.
The sound takes the other woman by surprise, her eyes darkening as she instinctively snaps her gaze toward you. Only for her to realize her mistake when her green eyes meet your pleading ones and she looks away.
“There is actually, thank you, Natasha.” Wanda says, leaning back in her chair and nodding towards you. “As you can see my little pet here is quite needy. I am, however, very busy at the moment.”
Natasha nods along, thinking maybe she would ask her to untie you from the chair, allowing you to take care of yourself.
Or maybe to wheel you into the room conjoined with Wanda’s office, where she couldn’t hear you.
“I need you to take care of her.” Wanda says, so nonchalantly, Natasha thinks she must have misheard her.
“I’m sorry?” Natasha asks, doing her level best to seem professional, even in these circumstances.
Wanda narrows her eyes at the woman, only for them to round again when she hears you moan, having accidentally jerked your hips forward and rubbing your clit against the chair.
“My pet.” Wanda says, flicking her eyes toward you in recognition. “Is a desperate little slut.”
Natasha darts her eyes toward you, unable to stop herself from licking her lips as her eyes drop to the mess between your legs.
“I need you to fuck her.”
Natasha swallows and flicks her eyes toward you again. She can smell your arousal from where she’s standing.
You whimper when her eyes meet yours and you try fruitlessly to grind down on the soaked surface of the chair, unable to find the right spot to make it feel good.
Fuck. She wants nothing more than to touch you. Your thighs look so soft, so plush. She wants to feel them squeeze around her head while she eats you out like a woman starved.
She wants to make you moan so loudly, hear you cry out for her. Feel your body tremble as she makes you cum again and again until you’re pushing her away, begging her for a reprieve.
“Well?” Wanda say’s impatiently, her eyes back on her laptop and the meeting taking place on the screen.
“Ms Maximoff, I don’t think this is appropriate.” She says, in a last stitch effort to keep her professionalism intact.
“Do you like having a job here, Ms Romanoff?” Not bothering to look up from her screen, as though Natasha’s defense borde her.
“Yes I-“
“Do you want to keep your job here?” She taunts, keeps her voice scarily level.
“Yes, Ms Maximoff.” Natasha answers, looking away in embarrassment, feeling like a scolded child.
“Then get to work.” Wanda commands, flicking her wrist in your direction.
Natasha nods and makes her way over to you. Her eyes zeroed in on the mess between your legs. Fuck you look good.
“Don’t ask her what she wants.” Wanda orders, noticing how Natasha stands hesitantly in front of you for a few seconds too long. “Fuck her however you want, she’ll take it like the good little whore she is, won’t you baby.”
You swallow nervously and look toward Wanda. “Yes, mommy.”
“Good.” Wanda says, returning her eyes to her laptop. “Now be a good slut for Natasha, baby and do as she says.”
Natasha takes a moment to look you over, her eyes visibly darkening at all the possibilities running through her mind.
“Anything I want?” She asks over her shoulder, refusing to take her eyes off of you.
Wanda smirks as she replies, intrigue building inside her.
“Anything at all, Ms Romanoff.”
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A/n- My first WandaNat fic ( I think )
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evilminji · 6 months
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You know... >.>
My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.
Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?
Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.
So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.
Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.
Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.
So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.
Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.
Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.
They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.
Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.
They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.
Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.
Which she was.
Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)
They have Apology Bribes.
They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...
Maybe...
That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?
They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...
And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...
She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.
Fine.
"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"
And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.
The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.
But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?
It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.
Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.
Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!
But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?
Uuuuuuhhhh?
Hi?
That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!
Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.
Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...
Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.
Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.
Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...
@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter
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