#but i feel like this post is getting long enough

[fairy-angel222]

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏✶𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

GETO SUGURU X FEM! READER

✶⋆.˚cw: smut, choking, pussy and face slapping, praise, degradation, recording, breeding, dumbfication, i love you’s

✶⋆.˚a/n: first one shot in a line set up for this whole concept ;) requested by anon.

Geto was a kinky man when he wanted to be. Loving the idea of recording each time he fucked you. Balls slapping noisily onto your wet clit as his hand curled in your hair. Lifting your face up into the camera with a degrading coo.

It was a fit of pure boredom that brought him to take it one step further. Convincing you that you two should share the videos. Make everyone see just how good he was destroying you in bed.

When you had agreed, you had never expected the millions of notifications you received within the first week. The comments on how hot you two were as a couple. How hot Geto looked fucking into you. How hot you looked getting fucked by Geto.

You even received some suggestions on videos your new “fans” wanted to see. Hundreds of thousands of people willing to watch, to get off to, anything that you two decided to post.

It was scary and amusing, but Geto was all for it. His chest swelled with pride knowing that so many men now wanted you but couldn’t have you. Knowing that he was the only one who could fuck you so damn good.

You never expected to find yourself agreeing, your lip between your teeth as you read through the comments. Some of the bold suggestions making your thighs clench at the thought of your boyfriend doing these things to you.

The account quickly rose to the top as the weeks went by. And you never got tired of the many positions Geto would flip you into, fucking into you meanly while praising you so degradingly. Showing the world how fast you turned to putty in his hold.

You attracted many different audiences. Your favorite were those girls who swooned not at him, but at you two on a whole. The way he held you, the way he checked up on you when he was done being rough. The aftercare. They thought your relationship was perfect, and would never fail to let you know.

It wasn’t long until people began demanding more of you two in a non porn setting, your other social medias blowing up with those who just couldn’t get enough of your lives. How much cuter Geto was with you out of bed. The many dates he took you on, the gifts he bought you. Everything.

It became something that your fans loved to see. Your relationship on a whole. Their little comments like ‘so cute!’ , ‘i love them so much’ , ‘you guys need to get married’ , ‘my favorite couple ever’ never failed to make your heart swell.

They respected your privacy of course. But would take anything that was put out for their consumption. Porn or otherwise.

—

“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃’𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊”

Was what the title of your latest video read, your fans quick to click on the thumbnail the second it got posted. Many already positioning themselves on their beds. Others plugging in their headphones around coworkers or friends. They knew from a mere four seconds in that they already loved what they saw.

Your hands and knees were trembling as your back arched. Fat tears flowing down your cheeks as you begged your boyfriend to touch you. “Please Sugu— please touch me. Wanna feel your cock so bad.” You moaned, wiggling your ass towards him with a needy mewl.

“Does my greedy girl want me to fuck her dumb? Is that what you want pretty?”

“Mhm, need you.”

He was more than happy to comply, not taking long until he was fucking into you roughly from behind. Your body jerking forward each time his hips hammered against your ass.

“S-suguu. Feels so good,” You mewled, Geto’s hand snaking around your throat to pull you up against his chest, forcing you to make eye contact with the blinking red light in front of you.

His breath fanned your ear, lips ghosting over your skin as he groaned deeply. “If only you could see what they see baby. See yourself moan like a slut in heat while that pretty lil’ pussy sucks me in.”

You let out a loud hiccuped moan, Geto’s cock slamming meanly into your g spot before fucking deep inside you. The small outline of his tip barely visible to the device’s lens. “See how much of a mess you are f’me.”

He felt so good. And your head was spinning as he fucked into you with no mercy. Your shaky whimpers echoing throughout the room as Geto molded your pussy around his cock.

“Nngh— sugu ‘m so full. Love your cock s’ muchh.” Your words were slurred as his other hand reached around to rub small circles on your clit. Your sopping pussy leaking lewdly onto the sheets below as he continued to roll his hips up into you.

“Tell them who’s fucking you so good baby.” He grunted, hand on your throat landing two soft slaps onto each of your teary cheeks before settling right back into place on your neck. The light sting pulling a string of whiney moans past your drool filled lips as you pressed further into him.

“You are. You are Sugu. You’re f-fucking me so good ‘nd i love it— haah. Wan’ you to fuck me like this forever.” You babbled, words muffled by an incoherent cry as your hands gripped his muscular arm. Using him for support when your head grew fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you.

Geto smirked, “That’s my girl.”

You yelped when you were shoved into the mattress. Your back arched deeply with your torso flat on the sheets. Geto’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay cheek down as he switched up his pace.

The new position allowed him to hit so much deeper. Your needy cries going straight to his cock as you drooled messily. Eyes rolling back with a loud moan every time he gave you a harsh thrust forward, sensitive nipples rubbing on the bed till you were clenching down repeatedly. Loud squelches filling the air as your pussy coated his cock in its slick.

“Sugu, ‘m gonna cum.” A trembling cry. “‘M so close.” You could feel your stomach tightening, breathing getting heavier as you gripped the sheets tightly.

“Yeah? Gonna make a fucking mess for me. Show them how good i fucked you today?” He cooed, watching as you nodded dumbly before letting out a choked moan. “Mhm.”

Geto groaned, palm landing onto your clit so he could watch you jerk with a whimper. Your body quivering when he pulled back you up, arms hooking under your legs to lift you off the bed. Body being moved up and down as he used you as his personal fleshlight. Bouncing you on and off his cock till you were crying uncontrollably, his harsh kisses to your sweet spot shooting to every sensitive nerve in your pussy.

“Suguruu. I- nngh, you’re— ahh.” You didn’t know what you were trying to say, your body being manhandled however he liked for your tight pussy to stroke his length. Your toes curling as your head fell back onto his shoulder.

“Shhh baby, it’s okay. Just take it yeah? Doing so fucking well.” Your legs remained dangling over his arms as he used you to both your delights, feeling yourself ready to let go with another shrieked cry. “F-fuckk. ‘M gonna— oh god.”

“You know they love to see that pretty face when you cum baby, look up at the camera f’me.”

You did as you told, head spinning as you attempted to keep it up right. Focusing on the delicious stretch of your walls to accommodate your boyfriend’s girth.

“Go on baby. Let go. ‘M right there behind you.”

Your mouth hung open in what your fans liked to call an adorable scream as your legs shook. Glossy eyes making content with the camera as you squirted messily. The force of the clear liquid making Geto grunt when it threatened to push his cock out of you.

“There you go.. fuck— that’s my good girl. ‘M gonna fill you up so good now. Gonna stuff that tight pussy to the brim with my cum.” He husked, movements getting sloppy as his abs tensed. Lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back, something that your audience loved to see.

His cock twitching within your warmth with a string of cracked groans when he buried himself deep. Allowing himself to pump you full of the creamy liquid, painting your insides in sticky white.

He pulled out slowly, still holding you up so the camera could pick up the way your little gaped hole fluttered around nothing. His cum running down your puffy folds in thick spurts. “Look at that baby, sopping pussy’s making a big mess.”

Geto set you down with a smile before kissing you sweetly, taking you into his arms and rocking you back and forth in a hug while placing tiny pecks all over your face. “You did so fucking amazing. That was hot.” Leaning into your ear so that his next words wouldn’t be picked up. “If they don’t jerk off to this i promise you i will.”

You could only hum with flushed cheeks , falling into his chest with a small giggle. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, “Ya hear that? She can’t feel her legs.” He grinned at the camera making you both laugh, his attention turning back to you with another passionate kiss. “Don’t worry, i’m gonna get you all mice and cleaned up okay? Gonna take real good care of you.”

“M’kay, love you Sugu.”

“I love you more sweetheart.”

—

It was no surprise the amount of love you got for the video. It was hard to believe that your account could grow anymore than it already had. The comments seemed to be hooked on how Geto could go from fucking you relentlessly to being the sweetest boyfriend telling you that he loves you.

That amongst thousands of men making it known that they came to the sight of you squirting, that one made Geto a little angry. And the thousands of women begging your boyfriend to be next, like that would ever happen.

You refrained the urge to respond to all the demands for more with the fact that you had loads of others coming up. Some with your boyfriend alone and others with.. guests. But they would have to have the patience to see for themselves.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #geto x reader smut #geto suguru x reader smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3

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Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it

A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

------------

Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

------------

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @yannvi @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @identity2212 @pricescontroversiallyyoungerwife @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon @xxkay15xx @cosmic-nuisance4 @danielle143

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

hello 🩷recently found and loved your account so i’m here to ask from you!!

criminal minds SSA aaron hotchner x reader

i’d love any explicit smut 😋

ideal trope(s) would be jealousy, established but secret relationship due to workplace like the whole thing stems from AH being jealous af that you’re getting hit on or smth and he can’t do shy about it in public but oh when ur home.. 👀👀👀

hahaha sorry the brain rot is real

thank you if you do this!!

and i hope u never stop writing i’ve been reading ur other posts too i love them sm

༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: your new relationship brings out a side of aaron that he had never seen before.

— warnings: established relationship, jealousy (obvi), unprotected sex, rough sex, teasing, couch sex, aaron lowkey bends you like a pretzel, heavy praise, he taps you on the cheek (lovingly ofc), implied creampie, consent king aaron!!, slightly insecure aaron, implied age gap but not specified, body massages and an implied size kink!

— wc: 2018

⋆ a/n: WOW a long smut fic, who would have thought? anywho, i'm trying to break free from posting headcanons because i just know they'll overtake this account. thank you for this request!

masterlist | AO3

Aaron felt his eye twitch. 

His eye never twitches.

The culprit? The maintenance man that won’t stop talking to you. 

He had so much paperwork he needed to complete, the stack of it had begun to tower, but Aaron couldn’t manage to get himself to focus on anything else but you. 

Your relationship was fairly new, so you both had just agreed to keep it low-key for now. It wasn’t like you guys were lying, how could you when you were constantly surrounded by nosy profilers? 

With new relationships came new feelings, and one of them he hadn’t felt since he was a young man somehow managed to resurface right under his nose: jealousy.

Yes, he had his moments of jealousy when he had first gotten with Hailey, but this? This was different. The age gap between the two of you wasn’t that large, but it was considerable enough that when he saw men closer to your age creeping around you, it always put him in a foul mood.

Like right now he just wants to storm down there and kiss you right in front of that stupid kid. The urge was primal and unfamiliar, and quite frankly it drove him insane.

Aaron was sure you hadn’t meant to come off as flirtatious, and who were your colleagues to step in if you looked genuinely interested in the guy? For all they knew you were single.

Oh, yeah, this was going to drive him over the edge, and it was all your fault.

It was safe to say you were excited when Aaron had decided to call it an early night, you just hadn’t expected him to jump on you as soon as you breached the threshold of your home.

He didn’t give you time to think or even put your things down, his briefcase followed along by your purse collapsed to the floor with a surprisingly loud thud!

Your lungs burned and your face was hot, heated between the two furnaces that were Aaron’s large and work-worn hands. You desperately clung onto the sleeves of his suit jacket, the material twisting between your fingers to keep yourself sturdy as he walked backwards.

“A- Aaron wha - what’s going on?” You pleaded breathlessly. You had to slightly shove the man away even though you were met with his uncharacteristic resistance. He just stood there and stared at you like a wild man, pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with every hastened breath he took.

He shook his head and blinked, like his thoughts were escaping him. Aaron couldn’t think when you looked at him like that; your lips kiss swollen with a light sheen of spit, your blouse covered breasts grazing his firm chest.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Was all he could say before reconnecting your lips. 

He continues to walk backwards before the back of his calves meet the couch. He allows himself to drop down with a slight oomf, his needy hands tugging on yours encouragingly until you clambered onto his lap.

He didn’t give you time to show him any hesitancy, his palms gripping your hips firmly and all but holding you down against him. You gasped at the feeling, your fingers scratching at the shaved hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Aaron! What has gotten into you?” The question was a flustered giggle. Aaron’s eyes casted to the side in a rare show of nervousness. 

“It’s ridiculous.” He mutters. “I can bet you a million dollars that whatever you’re going to say isn’t as silly as you think it is.”

“It was that guy. The one that wouldn’t stop talking to you.” It took you a moment to think back on it before you finally understood what he meant. “The maintenance man? What about him?”

“He was flirting with you, and - I don’t know, it made me feel things I haven’t in a long time.”

Saying the actual word jealousy seemed so juvenile to Aaron; he was a grown ass man with a grown ass man job, so what right did he have to be acting like this?

“Oh.” It was long and drawn out. You felt a smirk begin to form on your face and you gently coaxed his eyes to meet yours. Aaron’s gaze was unsure. 

“You know I’m yours, right? I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, no matter how young, rich or tall.” Your hips begin to grind down on his and Aaron chokes back a groan. His grip on your flesh gets stronger and it draws a whimper out of you.

“Yeah?” He asks sensually, his voice a low purr. He aids in your grinding and your head grows fuzzy. “Yeah.”

He’s quick to reposition the both of you, your back now resting on the couch cushions. He kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. It sends a shiver down your spine and your lower half canting up, desperately searching for friction. 

Your hot cunt meets his knee. “Ah! Aaron.” You whined, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your boyfriend has one foot on the ground and the other wedged between your legs.

Aaron rises from your chest for a moment, shoving off his suit jacket and working the buttons on his shirt. You take it upon yourself to take your blouse off, arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra with learned precision. 

His eyes fall on your breasts and you could have sworn his movements gained a bit of franticness.

“Like what you see?” You couldn’t help but tease, your hands now working to shimmy your pencil skirt down your thighs. “Very much.” Aaron agrees with a lazy half smile. “Here, let me help.” You lift your hips up and he takes both your panties and skirt off at the same time.

The casual show of strength made your stomach clench, and you all but snatched Aaron by the back of his neck back down to your level. A noise of surprise escapes him and you take it as a chance to slip your tongue in his mouth.

Your body begins to heat up, his taking grabs and grips driving you insane.

“Fuck me.” You heave. Aaron pulls away from you, “Are you sure? You aren’t prepared well yet, and I don’t want to hurt you.” You smile softly. “As much as I appreciate your concern about me, I’ll let you know if there’s any discomfort, okay?”

Aaron thinks on your words for a moment, mulling them about in his brain before relenting at the feeling of your sweet, tempting hands stroking his bare chest.

“You always have to keep me on my toes, don’t you?” 

“That was in the agreement.” You bite playfully. He snorts and rolls his eyes, but sits up once more to unbutton his pants. 

With what feels like forever, he’s finally bare for your hungry eyes and clambering on top of you.

Resuming his old position, he wraps your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock poking at your slit. The two of you shiver at the feeling.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You know I don’t mind eating you out; I’m in no rush.” Your cheeks turn warm at his crudeness. “I’m sure, baby. I need you. Now.” With one final search of your face, he begins to push forward.

Your breath catches in your throat and you hold on to his muscular biceps. Your eyes flutter shut at the full feeling of him, your legs trembling and stomach tightening. 

The first initial stretch hurts of course, but with a minute of laying there adjusting to Aaron’s size as he delivers very stimulating circles on your clit to distract you from the discomfort, you find yourself loosening up.

“Move.” You grunted quietly. 

Aaron’s jaw is set tight, the vein in his forehead slightly bulging when he proceeds to thrust experimentally. Your lips roll in between your teeth to hold back the whorish moan that threatens to practically barrel out of you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until all of his self control is thrown out the window and the only thing he can think of is you; of how tight you are around him.

“It feels so good, baby. So, so good…” You babble, your hands reaching up to grip the armrest of the couch for more leverage. “I know honey, I know. ‘M gonna get deeper, okay?” Aaron groans. You nod wildly, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face.

He steadies himself on the knee placed on the couch, lifting your legs up so either one sits on his big, broad shoulders. 

The change in position caused your back to arch, your mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ shape as you struggled to keep your head on straight.“Mphm! You’re so - you’re so deep.” You cried out, tears brimming on your eyelashes. “I know I am, baby. But you can take it right?”

“Mhm! I can! I know I can!” 

“You can take it because you’re mine right? Because you’re my good girl?” 

His praise pushes you dangerously close to the edge, and you’re honestly convinced that the crescent shape of your nails will leave an imprint on the material forever. The couch cushions stick to your skin like glue, the so of skin hitting skin resounded throughout the room lewdly.

A hand lightly slapped your face, your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, puckering slightly.

“I asked you a question, didn't I sweetheart?”

“You did, you did! ‘M sorry. ‘M your good girl, please.”

What you were begging for, you didn’t know; was it mercy? Was it a desperate call for your sanity? Whatever it was could wait, because you were going to cum.

“Gah! God, Aaron, ‘m gonna cum! Help me cum, please.” You begged again. “I got you honey.”

Aaron’s hand slithered down your body before landing on your clit, a calloused thumb drawing it around in firm circles. Your body moved and convulsed violently, your moans growing in volume – you’re sure you’re going to receive a noise complaint in the mail later.

That coil in your stomach threatened to snap, and all you could think to say was, “Cum with me?” 

To be frank, Aaron was ready to cum a few thrusts before, but he was always one to prolong his pleasure if that meant satisfying you.

“Of - of course.” He stuttered, his dominance slowly slipping away from him.

Aaron bent forward just a little more to test how far he could push you, and though you were sure your muscles were going to ache when everything died down, but God, this was so, so worth it.

“F- fuck!” You swore as you came.

Everything disappeared for a moment besides the sound of Aaron’s guttural groan that sounded more like a loud, long-drawn-out whimper than anything when he came too.

You were slowly brought back to reality by Aaron massaging your sore muscles, gently twisting them and rubbing out any potential knots that threatened to form. You knew he'd disappear in a minute to grab something to wipe you down with, but you couldn’t seem to find it within your post orgasmic bliss to care.

“Mm, that’s nice.” You rasped, your eyelids fluttering open to face your disheveled boyfriend. His hair was all out of place in the best way possible, his bare body shining in a clear sheen of sweat. If you weren’t so tired, you think you’d jump straight to a round two.

“I’m sure,” Aaron’s voice was just as hoarse as yours. “I think I pushed your body a bit too far.”

“Don’t get started, Aaron.” You chided lightly. “It was perfect, okay? You were perfect. Now get up here.” 

You dragged him from where he was and laid his body on top of yours.

“Down.” You demanded playfully. “I’m heavy, honey.”

“Don’t care.” You exaggerated the ‘don’t’ and pulled the rest of him down.

“I want to lay like this for a minute.”

“Alright,” Aaron nodded to himself. “I can do a minute.”

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[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 5)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 6 Posting Thursday April 25

Part 5 Too Much

Actions famously speak louder than words, so what did you say, exactly, to Alastor with your actions that night? You were briefly rattled by what happened in the park but not for the obvious reasons. Despite everything, despite your fears, you found the situation deepening between you two when he suddenly invites to stay the night at his home. Perhaps he had fears of his own?

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! That’s next part because this part was already super fucking long 😭 , but we do flirt our asses off and get taken by the hand, crying, panic attacks, discussions of murder, dead bodies, you really have to stop smoking, deer, adorably nervous Alastor, this man owns more than one mug you fucking know it」

19 days later… 😩 please don’t kill me. 5000 words here, Another like 6000 words are posting this Thursday, also tumblr wouldn’t let me post this for like an hour , just gave me error messages, I had to copy and paste 4 times so there may be some errors in here so let me know if you find spelling or format issues🙏

When he came to, momentarily either unconscious or just incapacitated as his brain started up again, he was frantic for his glasses. He could hear the sounds of a brutal death, the crunch of anger, the squish of rage. 

His eyes focused now, slightly askew and smudged glasses helping him see you clearly. 

Leaning over the man, hands red and face twisted in a marriage of fear and wrath, you were bringing a large rock down on the man’s unrecognizable face over and over and over and—

You flinched when Alastor’s hands delicately slipped down your arms and peeled your fingers from the rock.

Full body shaking, “He was going to kill you!” You said it too loud, too fast. “He was going to—,” Your breath got caught in your throat, “He wanted to— He was trying to kill you, Alastor.”

Wet with mud and blood and the rain still left on the grass, you were pulled into Alastor’s lap. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck with a small wince and hugged you. “He was. He almost did.” Low and slow, his chest rumbled when he said it. “You did such a good job.”

You looked down at your hands, but he pulled your face back up to look at his, “Always surprising me in the best ways.”

You’d forgotten already, how when adrenaline wanes you’re left with terrible tremors and a suddenly clear head. Alastor almost died. You hadn’t thought at all when it happened. Everything had taken place so fast, faster than your brain could process.

You had seen Alastor stop struggling against the man, his body went still and your eyes were blinded with tears, there was a horrible sound that may have come from you, and then there was nothing. A flash of running Colors. Distant muddled sounds.

Maybe you saw someone grab a rock. 

You might have hit the man on the back of the head. 

You think he fell down and something didn’t stop moving against him. 

Perhaps you thought if you hit him enough you could make it have not happened at all. If you killed him fast enough, Alastor would have been fine and standing.

But you weren’t sure. You blinked and Alastor was touching you and underneath you was a pulp of a man’s face. 

Alastor’s heart was racking against his ribs. Arms tightening around you unconsciously as his eyes landed on the dead man.

He’d gotten too comfortable. He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. He was too much.

He felt himself spilling over and staining your hands metaphorically and now literally.

You didn’t feel anything. Not during. Now you felt too much.

Your mind was filled with an echoing chorus of, ‘He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost died. He almost died.” 

There was a strange fear that Alastor had died, and any second you’d blink again and be alone in the trees with two dead men. You twisted in his lap,  hands rocketing to Alastor’s face and gripping the sides of his head. You were staring into his eyes, panting.

“You can’t die. I’ll—,” tears poured down your face in streams not drops. Your throat closed around the words. Short and fast, your breath ran wild. Hands tingling, your lips felt like they were pricked with a hundred tiny needles. 

Alastor pushed down his own mess of emotions, “One deep breath in.” His hands settled on yours,  still on his face. He could feel the familiar stickiness of drying blood in his hair. “Keep breathing in.” You coughed, shaking your head no. “You can, I promise it. Would I lie to you?”

You laughed, managing to catch your breath for a moment, “Y-yes.” 

“Well, now you’re adding insult to injury.” He made a show of rubbing his neck. You smacked his chest lightly, breathing in twice in a row.

He held both of your hands in both of his, “Name a time I’ve ever lied.” He distracted you but wounded himself. He could name a time.

You tried to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just a really good liar.” Your voice was hoarse. 

Alastor nodded, “That’s true, there’s actually nothing I can’t do well.”

Another laugh, a cry, “Stop it.”

His warm, clean hands wiped your tears. “You’re being aggressive again, sweetheart. You know I prefer soft spoken women.”

The laughter helped break the cycle of hyperventilating. As your breathing finally got to a manageable speed you felt exhaustion deep in your bones.

All at once the sensations became prominent. Your knees were red and muddy, your hands bloody, your left side and back wet. You were sticky and sore and cold. “Alastor,” his legs were framing you, yours now folded under yourself and digging into rocks, “I wanna go home.” You adjusted his glasses, “Together.” 

If he had a reason to say no, he ignored it. 

“I thought I was the messy one.” He washed your hands with the water cans and settled you into the passenger seat of his car. Alastor took care of filling the trunk and cleaning the ground before sliding into the driver's seat.

He turned to you, his face dirty and clothes worse. You looked down at yourself; knees a color of wine, and blue dress now dyed brown.

“I know you have to get rid of him. So, I won’t ask you to sleep over. Just,” you felt sleepy, mind asking you to let it catch up, “let me take care of you for a little bit. Okay?”

His hand slipped onto your leg, he wanted to make a joke about sex or murder hoping to make you laugh again. But it was obvious he needed to be quiet, so he just nodded.

Alastor left the car on a side street behind your building. The man whose name you never asked concealed under canvas and red oil tins.

Luckily everything was clean in your apartment. It was small, just one room and a bathroom. The other apartments you’d seen had communal toilets and showers so you were quite proud of your space. You’d made it yours, gifted trinkets here and there, walls decorated with hanging dried flowers you'd had thrown at your feet. A shrine to your abilities.

You peeled off his clothes, tossing them in the kitchen sink and wiping off as much dirt as you could with a damp rag. 

Clothing hanging over the radiator, you both got into the shower. Cold and wet now hot and soaking,  you took his hands and sat you both down in the tub while the water ran down. Taking your time, you gently scratched the blood and mud from his hair and let it all wash away.

When fully cleaned and dried off he slipped on the only bit of clothing he had left, a loose pair of boxer shorts. You had a slip, silky and soft, to comfort you. Your mother wore silk, and it always made you feel safe. The way the fabric slid around its self and others, never catching or bunching up, was something you always hoped to emulate; smooth and cool, but always in need of a little caution and care.

A small bed meant for one, but you offered it. When Alastor motioned for you to slide in too, you didn’t hesitate.

Nose to nose, the room was quickly heating up with the radiator's help. 

You hadn’t been in a bed with Alastor in nearly two months, not since that first time. His words stuck to you like embroidered messages lovingly stitched into a handkerchief you didn’t want to lose. So you kept your hands between your thighs, still and away, to make sure he had space to exist in your bed.

“You saved my life.” Alastor whispered, one of you finally bringing up the obvious.

A hummed acknowledgment, “That makes us even.” He saved you before, you did the same in turn. A little piece of you worried the contract was done and he’d disappear.

“No, my dear. I owe you so much more.” A kiss to your cheek.

A terrifying thought took hold of you. “Roll over.” He looked confused but did. You were always asking him to turn away, always trying to hide your face when you said things that scared you. You hooked your arms under his and held tightly. 

“If I wasn’t there, there’s no one to have told me. How long would I have waited,” another torrent of tears into his back you couldn’t keep in if you tried, “at the phone booth for you to call in the morning.”

You were crying like a child, uncontrolled and with your entire body. Pathetic. 

He had never had someone to worry about those details. Everyone truly close to him was dead. Until now, of course. 

Of course.

What a natural addition you provided to him. He thought it like that it was a long standing fact.

He hugged your arms tighter to his chest. 

A shiver of fear in the warm bed as you continued, “I want to be there. With you. Always.” You gathered your courage. Shields completely down, if just for a moment, “I know there was nothing right about tonight but,” you wiped your tears off his back with your palm, reabsorbing that pain before he could soak it in, “Please. Don’t shut me out now. I’ll go to hell tomorrow for you but please don’t damn me to picking up a newspaper and seeing your name in the headlines; Learning you died in block letters for a nickel. I wouldn’t survive it.”

You didn’t want to meet his eyes, worried rejection was waiting for you there, so you’d asked him to turn so you could hide. He picked up your hands and kissed your knuckles one by one. “Please don’t say things like that outloud. Things like ‘go to hell’ and ‘tomorrow’ so close together. The spirits can hear you.” A kiss to your palm, “And I wouldn’t dare shut you out.” He couldn’t. The very idea of going back to how he was before, alone and mumbling to the dead, made his heart race with his own panic. If you disappeared tomorrow he was scared to think what would happen to him. “Plus, I know you’d just find me anyway. You always do.”

Had you not been there, he would have still tried to kill the man. Waiting in an alley or for a walk home through an empty space. You weren’t at fault. He’d been hurt before, but this was by far the worst situation he had been in. But he would have been in it regardless of your participation. Alastor pressed his lips into your hand, smelling the soap you’d washed him with. 

You hadn’t hesitated. He had thought you would run, that he’d slip away into death and you’d book it to safety. Something he never planned to ask you to do, to kill someone, you’d done it for him when it was the most selfless option. Did he mean so much to you? He wanted to ask, but if you said anything other than an immediate yes he feared he would turn to a pillar of salt and crumble.

If you both could find the courage to just look at each other you’d have all your answers. But you couldn’t. The fear still too strong. So you changed the topic for a chance at an escape.

A small confession, to turn the conversation away from death. “After our dates, your cologne always lingers on my clothes. Sometimes I just fall asleep in them. When I wake up, my pillow smells like you.” Your body formed against his back, pressing as tightly as you could. How was that less embarrassing than everything else you’d said when it was arguably more pathetic?

He was quiet. You worried you’d pushed too far. Alastor worried he’d already hurt you too much.

“If you asked me,” he spoke slowly, hands resting on yours above his heart, a deep breath, “I’d stop.” He would. 

But, “I’d never ask that of you.” You said it so quickly, like blinking or yawning it happened without you needing to think about it. Alastor did something he felt he needed to do, you saw that look in his eyes before and understood this was Alastor at his truest. And the people he killed weren’t good people. He provided a service to New Orleans that no one appreciated.

He smiled against your palm, making sure you felt it, “Why are you so good to me?”

Without hesitation, Because I love you.

After a beat of silence, “Because you know where I live, obviously.”

A huff, “And where you work.” 

“And the park where I like to get fingered.”

Finally, his unburdened laugh, “I didn’t expect you to say that.” That sound of his joy bounced off the thin walls around you both. He rarely expected anything you said or did. It was part of your charm. Normally he could predict what people would say like reading a bad story, but you were something else. Effortlessly entertaining, was that a compliment? He was sure you’d say no and make that face you always did, something between a pout and a glare, between sad and angry. 

He had been asking genuinely. Why were you so good to him? Why so patient? Why care at all? 

“Can you sleep? Or do you need to go?” 

Alastor thought about it, if he left early enough he could still get home in time to empty the trunk. He hummed an affirmative, when he didn’t move you understood it was the former. He didn’t want to go. He needed more time. He needed to feel you nearby. An odd sense that if he pulled away now the thread holding you two together would pull him apart at the seams with the distance. 

You would think nightmares would plague you after killing someone in cold blood, but no. You practically killed Tommy, when you considered it thoroughly. And while this night was not a joy, you had defended yourself and Alastor. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t regret it. You were just scared you did a bad job. That you’d get caught. 

The kind of dreams you had were different kinds of scary. Of Alastor always leaving a room when you entered, of falling off the stage and landing too far down, of waking up to feel Alastor cold beside you. 

When you did wake, your arms were still tight around him and he was warm. Your forehead rested between his shoulder blades. You didn’t feel different this time, you didn’t feel changed like after Tommy.

Alastor always had nightmares so he wasn’t surprised to have them in your bed. He dreamt he awoke on the ground, the man was gone but you were there broken into several pieces.

Had it been a dream though? 

After he dressed, you brushing his hair over a shared cup of coffee (you only had the single mug), you walked him to his car. The sun was nearly up and luckily no one else was. You had just wrapped a coat around your slip, not exactly acceptable clothing for being in public.

A shared kiss, small and chaste, Alastor’s mind elsewhere. He opened the door but stopped and turned back to you. It was always in these moments before you two parted that he felt the most frantic. 

“I know we love talking in circles and making jokes, but I have to ask you, bluntly. You killed a man. Are you alright?” When you only blinked, he quickly added, “It’s okay if you’re not.” His expression was pure worry, furrowed brows and flat mouth. “Nothing will change if you say you’re not.”

When you started to smile, Alastor thought he had lost his mind. The sun was rising behind you, making the shadows on your face slowly shift. He took a second to take in the scene. Ankles naked with sockless shoes. To your right was a trunk full of a dead man. And you just smiling like he’d made a joke. Which he explicitly said he wasn’t going to do.

“I don’t feel like I killed anyone.” You said it with a levity that made him glance around, wondering if you’d hit your head a little too hard earlier, “I feel like I stopped someone from killing you. Which feels,” you fought to suppress your smile from growing any further, “kinda good. Like I’m strong. I’m just scared I made a mistake and police will find out. I’m terrified we’ll be seperated. But I don’t feel bad.”

A normal man would be deeply concerned. You didn’t feel bad? For killing a man with a rock? Arguably one of the most brutal ways to murder a person. A normal man would worry he would be next.

Luckily for you both, Alastor was not a normal man. He stared at your face, trying to discern any hints of deceit there before he fell into the comfort of trust.

Your pinky came out, “I’m fine, and if I’m ever not, I will tell you. Promise.” His eyes left your face to stare at the tiny digit, “If I break the promise, you get to break the pinky.”

“Pinkies are useless, we should use a finger that matters.” He offered his index. You let yourself laugh, hooking your pointer finger with his.

Smile to smile, he exhaled his stress and slipped into his normal demeanor, “No worries, darling! No one will ever know what happened to him.” He leaned beside you and patted the trunk. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor drove away with the man, ready to disappear the body and try to sleep before work if possible. A nagging still sat in his stomach, a little pull that maybe you’d change your mind. 

He asked you the next morning, on your routine call, if he could stop by the theater when he finished with work that night. No reason in particular. He’d pull into the side street, and you could run out to see him.

When he arrived, you were in your stage outfit waiting to greet the crowd. Alastor smiled, “The prettiest bird I’ve ever seen!”

“A bird? Alastor just ‘pretty’ woulda been a fine compliment.” 

He offered an apology by way of kiss, soft hands coming to your cheek as he leaned against the door of his car. “I just wanted to see you. Steal a kiss before you stole some hearts. May I return tomorrow?”

Ah, that feeling again. Stupid school girl with her first crush, her first taste of love. “I wouldn’t complain.” 

That flow of conversation eased Alastor, things felt normal already. For you, they were. A small worry remained he may begin to act differently but the only difference was he seemed to be embracing you deeper. 

After your delivered kiss, you took the stage like a woman reborn. The warmth of the light felt like the sun. Pointed toes as you moved along the stage, hips loose and smile coy. 

As you looked around the backlit crowd you didn’t search for a good mark. The times you did play a man’s attention for Alastor were different, it felt like art when you lured men into Alastor’s claws.

A shake of your feathered fans, a very controlled lowering of your head, you let a hip rock out into view. A little flash of inner thigh. Then, your favorite part. One hand gripped your fans as you them with the aide of practiced fingers. Free hand undoing your still remarkably heavy and glittering bra and handing it behind the curtain.

Surprise reveal, a naked magic trick done behind distracting whirling feathers. Arms open, fans high, you waited for the applause to die down. Deep breaths were not possible, adrenaline and the weight of your costume keeping you from hiding the heaving of your chest. 

The whistles were your favorite. You couldn’t imagine Alastor whistling but you were sure it would be flawless in its ability to capture your attention. 

“Anyone wanna smoke? I don’t want to go into the alley alone.” You asked the room, several girls glancing your way and shaking their heads no as you hurried back in from your set.

“Just take the fire escape to the roof. That’s where we’ve been smoking since Mr. Brady said it was dangerous at night.” Florence was normally a perfect smoking partner, never talking too much. The name Brady made your stomach flip though, you had forgotten about him for a second. You’d managed to avoid him until Tommy’s bloody trail went cold, but you knew he still stalked around the jazz and music district.

A dancer laughed, “Nighttime has always been dangerous for women.”

Someone you didn’t see added, “Fuck, daytimes not safe either.” 

You climbed the creaky and seemingly forgotten-about fire escape to the roof. The breeze hit your face before your feet even left the metal railing. 

It was… a roof. Grey painted floors and brick sides. Nothing special, but you could see the bowl full of discarded cigarettes near the front of the building. You looked over the short wall that edged the front, you were able to see the pigeon shit covered marquee. What an unattractive view, the lights flashing out from beneath actual shit.

There was a metaphor there, you were sure. 

Looking around, there were a few wicker chairs hidden in the shadow of the street’s lights, thankfully upside down to keep them clean from the birds.

If more people used roofs instead of alleys Alastor would be out of luck. Tommy was difficult enough with a staircase, the fire escape would have been the nail in that coffin. 

It had been a lovely night, absolutely jarring compared to the night before. You leaned back in the chair, you knew you weren’t the best at saying what you meant. Especially when the words you offered could be used to hurt you. Words of affection and love, when true, were daggers given handle-first to someone else. 

So you hoped Alastor could guess how much he meant to you. You shouldn’t need to say it, right? Actions speak louder than words. You bludgeoned a man to death for what you had thought was a lost cause. It had seemed Alastor was already dead when you first brought down the rock. 

Diamonds are rocks, you considered. The most expensive costume the theater had was peacock feathered with shining crystals. You wanted to say you felt like a peacock, spirit large and wide and colorful. But those were males. Of course they were. The animal kingdom had males compete for mates with pretty colors and lovely songs. Now ladies pranced around in painted faces and short dresses. You didn’t feel pale or small like the ‘fairer sex’ peacock.

You felt like the swan. Vicious and beautiful, not out shone by anyone.

Well there was someone you’d allow to shine brighter. Someone you’d happily let take the lead. You’d thought letting a man walk in front of you was a sign of subservience. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that there could be respect in trusting someone else to go ahead. That the act of going first could be for protection and not power.

“Hey!”

You hurried to the fire escape, “yeah?”

“There’s a man asking for you. Tall guy named Frank?”

Frank?

Oh, Frank.

You’d forgotten about him. He’d left months ago. He was a whale, rich and generous. You took a moment to consider sitting down with him, smiling and laughing at his jokes, letting his hand settle on your thigh. It had been weeks since you entertained scamming anyone, and now you couldn’t even stomach the idea of faking interest in another man. Frank wasn’t one to scam, he just liked having a pretty lady on his arm to make him feel young and wanted, and in exchange you got into private parties and were gifted jewelry and clothing.

“Tell him I’m busy and send him off.” You hollered down. You could buy your own clothes. 

“Did he leave?” Alastor asked you the next morning, you leaning against the glass phone booth in the early morning light.

Your finger wrapped around the phone cord, “No of course not! They never do. I snuck out the back.”

There was a hum, “Well my dear, you’ve offered me a wonderful transition into my next question.” Alastor was sitting at his kitchen table, nervously turning his coffee cup around in circles, “Would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can pick you up after your show.”

Like a glacier drifting away from shore, you very slowly crouched down in the booth. “To your home?” 

“No, to Alabama.” He waited a beat, “Yes of course my home. I can show you what happens after I drive away.” A cheeky smile evident through his voice.

You pressed the phone receiver into your chest, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. What happens when he drives away? So…where the bodies go. But most importantly, the biggest part of this—where he lives. So much can be gleaned about someone from their home. A bookshelf alone could make or break an attraction. You brought the receiver back to your mouth. “Lovely! Sure thing— Alastor. Yes.” you almost added on an awkward nickname like daddy-o or mister man, like an idiot, because your brain was misfiring like you’d seen him in the sunlight again.

Ah, you could see his bed. 

Where he slept.

Did he ever dream of you?

What if it was terribly dirty? Could you still love him if he was a slob? 

“I’m quite far from downtown, pack an overnight bag, okay?” He stopped fidgeting with the mug. When the call ended he sat at the table for some time, staring around the kitchen. The home was large by city standards, but it was old. His mother’s charm was evident through every part. A finger scratched at the wooden table, heavy and solid. Why was his heart racing? 

He walked to the screened back door, looking from the weathered patio steps to the greenhouse. 

No one had ever been to his home. Ever. A teensy part of him was panicking. Was this a mistake? Was he going to fuck up the budding relationship? Throw off the peace of his safest place?

Budding. Okay that was ridiculous even for him. The kind of intimacy gained through murder did not allow any union to be called budding. He’d shared pieces of himself no other living soul knew of. Your image of him was possibly even more complete than his own mother had held, even though he tried to always be the most sincere with her. Even people he did care for and consider close friends had never knew where he lived. Never heard what kept him up at night. Never learned his distaste for a random lay.

Opening the screen door with a signature creak, the sound many southerners could call comforting, he walked to the greenhouse.

The newest part of the property, the glass walled structure was built shortly after his mother’s death. Double doors: locked. Just beyond the glass was a forest of plants and potted trees. They had no need for a greenhouse, but Alastor had a need for them.

He set about preparing his home for another occupant, a task that brought him such a shock of joy and anxiety he began to wonder who he was. New sheets on the bed, extra pillows set against his wooden headboard. Large glass jar in the backyard full of water and tea bags.

It was also unexpected he was thinking so much of his mother. In a perfect world she’d be there to greet you. Though if she was alive, he wouldn’t have been in that alley that night. He made a mental note to not mention his mother, at least not as much as he was remembering her as he walked around the two story home tidying.

Would he have met you if he wasn’t a killer? 

A flicker of fear was quickly extinguished by romance. Definitely. You both ran in the same scenes. He’d seen you before that night, he just never approached you. He hadn’t anticipated how much more you were than the facade you put on. Nothing about your sweet face said, ‘I have a high tolerance for murder.’

Alastor spent the day at work physically present but mentally pacing his living room. He nodded along to discussions of who was to be live on set next, smile never faltering as he worried if he had breakfast foods. He rarely ate breakfast, did you? How had he not thought to ask. Sloppy.

The only outward sign he was feeling any stress was the tapping of his finger on his desk, which he hadn’t even noticed until the stage manager commented.  

“Alastoooor,” her voice was high, like it seemed many women’s voices were recently. Was it a trend? “Impatient? Hot date with a young lady this evening?”

While she meant well, she always pried, always asked questions he didn’t appreciate. 

Alastor shook his head, smile strained. A perceptive person would have picked up on it, but Brenda was not perceptive.

“Oh.” A noticeable disappointment, “That’s boring.”

Actually on second thought maybe she didn’t mean well.

“I’ve had too much coffee, is all, Brenda.” He pulled his hand into his lap. “Was there anything you needed?” 

“No,” she pouted, much less endearing than you.

If he murdered purely for fun Debra would be dead before sunset. Unfortunately her only crime was being remarkably annoying.

Alastor waited behind the theater, where it was less likely any staff would see him. It was still important to avoid connecting the two of you together, at least at your workplace yet. 

He was quick to grab your bag for you.

“Not the trunk, please.” You said, it took him a second to catch the joke. He set it on the back seat after opening your door for you. You’d only been in his car a few times but he never failed to be a perfect gentleman. 

Your palms were sweating, when his hand rested on your leg while he drove you resisted the urge to hold it. Instead you slipped yours under his. Alastor asked you about your day, about work, about if Frank came back. Typically as soon as you left the theater you were in a cone of silence until your phone call with him the next day. It was kind of nice, having someone to speak to. Before meeting him there were times you worried you’d forget how to talk naturally, how to sound like yourself.

The glowing eyes of deer popped up from the side of the road, startling you. Eerie. You held your breath, would they run, stay still, or sprint into the road.

“Is it true their antlers can break car windshields?” You asked not breaking eye contact with a doe as you drove past.

Alastor nodded, “If a buck hits your car the wrong way, not even the car will make it out of the accident.”

“Are there a lot of bucks around?”

“Will be soon, as fall— wait why am I telling you this,” he laughed, “Miss Autumn Hind already knows what makes the bucks run wild.”

You shouldn’t be smiling, it was a dumb rut joke, but it felt like a compliment. 

The car lights passed over the home as he turned into the dirt driveway. Powder blue. It wasn’t a color you associated with Alastor. He was caramel, honey, midnight blue, red. His sometimes sinister smile didn’t look quite right against powder blue. But, for a home, it was lovely.

“Is someone home?” You saw a light on in an upstairs room.

Alastor reached behind you for your bag, “No, I leave it on when I’m gone. Gives the impression that the house isn’t empty.”

A minor bit of acting, Alastor opening the door and offering to bring your bag upstairs before a tour like a good host. His anxious energy was barely contained by that grin of his. For your part you played the appropriately impressed guest.

But deep down you were very impressed. An actual house. Your mother struggled to keep apartments rented. Alastor had a home. With stairs. That went to more home, not a neighbor. What a lovely thing. What did he do with all this space?

He could probably hide quite a few bodies in there.

Alastor opened his bedroom door and motioned for you to enter.

You took in every detail as shrewdly as you could. Two circular nightstands, a wide dresser with a few framed photos and a radio. One large window facing the yard, you could see the car outside from where you were standing. “Wow a man’s bedroom. I tend to avoid these.”

“What a coincidence, so do I. Bedrooms in general, really.” He placed your bag on the dresser, offering to unpack it for you. Your smile screwed up, shaking your head no. You couldn’t imagine Alastor folding your panties and setting them into a drawer. 

Well.

“Yes please.” You took a seat on the end of his bed, watching him tenderly empty the bag before beginning to put things away like you’d come home from a trip. “A bed big enough for two people. You didn’t tell me you were a fancy man. Ooh la la.”

Alastor laughed, “Your bed was quite comfortable.” He set your dress onto a hook attached to the closet door, hands running down the fabric to straighten out the wrinkles, “But I have a feeling that had more to do with you than anything else.”

The floor was clean, the rug beneath the bed a simple but pristine white. What an odd color for a rug.  

You truly did avoid men’s homes. The power dynamic shifts too much.

“Are all men so clean?”

“Oh god no. Have you really never been to a man’s home?” Without a moment of hesitancy his long fingers flattened out your underthings and neatly folded them. You could call it erotic, knowing what else his fingers could do.

A hum, you swayed side to side, “Too much risk. I don’t know where the knife drawer is, which locks stick, what windows open all the way.” 

He set the empty bag into a reading chair in the corner, “That sounds stressful.”

You shrugged, “My mother taught me to always have an escape. From situations, from rooms, from people. Not terrible advice.”

That was true, he thought. If the few women he killed had considered that, he would be less prolific. Women tended to be easier in some regards.

Alastor finally let himself look at you sitting on his bed. Were you wearing the black garters today? He liked those. He appreciated the red dress you’d worn.

Taking off his jacket and vest, he hung them up while his eyes kept returning to you. Your legs were crossed, thighs soft and pressed together. He remembered feeling them against his ears. A little cough to clear his throat and mind.

“Are you hungry?”

You werent, but you weren’t ready for sleep either, so you asked for some bread and butter. Alastor sat beside you at the table, watching you look around. It didn’t look like a killer's home. 

“Ya know, I was going to rob you. I had been wanting to talk to you, before that guy caught me off guard when I was smoking.” You said it easily. 

He smiled, “Oh, why’d you change your mind?”

“Well, you slit a man’s throat in front of me.”

“Tsk tsk, you give up too easily, my dear.”

Salted butter, soft bread. Simple. Happy. “You were so handsome-,”

“We’re?”

A snort of a laugh, rolling your eyes dramatically, “and you looked well off. I was searching the room for the lights reflecting off of your glasses all night.”

Alastor grimaced, fighting the well of his ego, and leaned on his elbows, “Is it too morbid to say I’m glad that man tried to kill you? I like this timeline more than being robbed and never seeing you again.”

“That’s very selfish. I would have enjoyed chasing you down and finessing your wallet off you.” You set the glass lid back over the butter dish, content with the snack. “Some men come back actually and confront me at the theater.”

He howled. The idea was ridiculous, “Seriously? Why not just tell the cops.”

“Men don’t like telling other men they got taken for a ride by a dame.”

Alastor stood, “What would you have done if you had robbed me and I marched into the theater demanding my cash back.” It took a second to realize he was being serious in wanting you to play along. 

You popped the last piece of bread into your mouth and stood too, “You rake!” A fake smack to his chest, “I booted you to the curb! You had more hands than an octopus!” 

Alastor tried to stay in character but his smile kept cracking through his serious face. “And my wallet? None of my hands can find it.” You took a few steps back, feigning shock at the accusation.

“Sir! You were so drunk I’m not surprised you lost it.” When Alastor closed the space between you with two wide steps and pulled you into his chest you giggled, hitting softly at him, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Trying to take advantage,” his hands wandered down your hips, making your voice catch in your throat, “of a good woman like me.”

His mouth came to your ear, “Well, miss, I think you owe me the opportunity to try again.”

You went stiff against him, the sudden turn of his voice into seduction taking you by surprise, “If you were a real mark, I’d punch you in the face for saying that.”

“But for me?” Breath against your neck.

Your hands slid up his chest and to his collar, pulling him down and into a kiss. His smile spread across your lips. 

His mouth stayed against your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “Ready for bed?”

“Are you sleepy, hun?” You pulled away, a sincerely worried face. Two nights now you’d interrupted his normal routine.

Alastor’s eyes seemed to sparkle behind his glasses, head shaking, “No, not at all.” You felt the heat rise up your face. Wanting to avoid assumptions, you tried to temper your expectations.

His hand pulled you toward the stairs, you dragging your feet, “Did you want to show me around?”

“In the daylight.” He led you up the stairs and to the right.

“Oh okay….”, your mind was reeling, mouth dry. No dead body in sight. No blood. You hadn’t pressed him or asked for anything. Maybe he just wanted a good cuddle, or some kisses. You often enjoyed necking near the car before he would go home. Right. Let him lead.

You followed him, letting him guide you hand in hand back to his bedroom.

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar,@straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove@saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , @sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re , @asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp , @angelxx7 , @katgirl05 , @impulsivethoughtsat2am , @sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor #alastor smut #alastor x you

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 6

pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader, Grid x Reader

summary: you and lance have a talent for traumating the grid *insert emotional damage meme here*

requests open masterlist

———————————

It was safe to say that that you and Lance were still very much in your honeymoon phase when you got to testing. Both of you very tan from your weeks spent on the beach.

“Y/n! You surprised the world when you announced your marriage and name change, Anything you want to say about it?” One of your favorite interviewers asks you as you walk hand in hand to the paddock with Lance.

“Sure, yeah. Lance and I have been together for a long time, so getting married was just the natural next step. It was a small wedding with close friends and family. Regarding my new name, alittle over a year ago, Kimi offered to mentor me and we forged a very close bond. He is basically my father and his kids are my siblings, so with the blessing of the family I wanted to honor the relationship the best way I knew how. Racing under the Räikkönen name is such a huge honor and I can’t thank my dad and family enough for the honor,” you beam, more than happy to talk about your family.

“How did Kimi react when you told him you were taking his name both legally and when racing,” she asks, your joy infectious.

“He was so happy, I told him at the wedding, yeah. We are such a tight family, I can’t thank them enough for bringing me into their family and allowing me to take their last name. And Lance has been wonderful about it, he actually suggested hyphenating the names,” you tell her. Usually you are pretty tight lipped, but you with happily talk with her.

“Alright, onto what actually matters. How are you feeling going into testing with Red Bull?” she asks and you take a step back into your normal interview style.

“Good. I certainly miss Checo here, but the car feels good. We will see how testing goes and work from there,” Lance gives you a look that says you will be late and the journalist notices.

“Thanks for chatting, and congratulations,” she says and you nod in thanks before walking away.

“You look very hot today, Mrs Räikkönen-Stroll,” Lance says kissing the side of your head.

“Maybe so, but nothing compares to you post race,” your cheeks flame a little. Lance pulls you into a small alley between motorhomes. You are pressed against the wall as Lance kisses you, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

“OH MY GOD!” you hear Daniel shriek.

“MY EYES!” Valtteri screams. Lance quickly pulls away from you as the four of you look at each like deer in the headlights. Daniel and Valtteri quickly walk away, leaving you and Lance giggling like school kids.

The club atmosphere was off when you walked in, taking a seat beside Logan. Valtteri can’t look you in the eyes while Daniel isn’t sure whether his is proud or scarred for life.

“Fernando, I was not aware of your taste in books,” Nico says, a little flushed thinking about what they had to read.

“Yeah, a smut book? We do have innocent eyes here,” Kevin looks at you and Logan.

“Innocent?” Logan asks, a breathy laugh behind it.

“The beach scene?” Lewis suggests you all start on.

“The writing was phenomenal, the author really captured the emotions and sensations. It read so raw, so lifelike. It was one of the few times that art imitated life. She captured every intimate thought and feeling that a woman gets when she is having sex. I remember during the honeymoon when Lance and I did something similar on the private beach and wow, the author really nailed it,” you say, not quite realizing what you had just revealed to the group.

“Damn, Y/n, I didn’t realize you and Lance were freaks like that. Respect,” Daniel says, never being one to shy away from sex. Your face twists in mortification at what you unintentionally revealed. The guys look at eachother mortified as well.

You were an adult, they knew that, but in their subconscious mind you haven’t done anything more than kiss a boy. That’s how you end up following them as they storm across the paddock.

“Logan! Help me stop them,” you look at him with panic in your eyes as the group nears the Aston Martin garage.

“Hell no, this is so funny,” he says and you huff. You see the guys cornering Lance.

“YOU RUINED OUR DAUGHTER?!” Fernando yells at his teammate. You just want to sink into a corner and die, similar to how Lance appears.

“Our precious, innocent, child. What’s next? Logan has slept with a girl?” Valtteri says.

“HEY!” Logan yells in offense. The guys’ faces drain of more color.

“You too? This isn’t ok,” Kevin says and you spot Max and Lando trying not to laugh, the two of them having seen the commotion and wanted to check it out.

“I think you guys are forgetting that the three of us are consenting adults, we aren’t kids anymore,” you say softly, Logan and Lance standing by you, the latter still scared.

“Tell that to Kimi,” Nico chuckles and you groan at the mention of your dad.

“Alright, stop harassing my teammate, we have meetings,” Max breaks everyone up, leading you away.

“Thanks, Maxie,” you let out a breath of relief.

“Do I want to know?” he laughs.

“No, I don’t think so,” you return his laugh. You just hope that your book club meeting will be smoother tomorrow morning.

The next morning, you walk into the room happy and perky as usual.

“You okay, Fernando?” Logan asks when he notices Fernando on his third cup of coffee and the tiredness in his eyes.

“The hotel has thin walls. My hotel room shares a wall with Lance’s,” Fernando says, giving you a look that makes you blush in embarrassment, wishing the earth would open up and eat you whole.

“It is natural. They are young and in love, maybe we will have a baby Stroll soon,” Lewis says and your eyes light up.

“We will!” you say, quickly pulling out your phone. The older drivers hearts sink, all slightly panicking. “Oh my god, I’m not pregnant guys, we are just getting a puppy,” you laugh at their faces.

“I would like to make a motion to kick Y/n out of the book club due to the amount of emotional distress she has given the members this weekend,” Valtteri says, and your jaw drop.

“Alright alright, but you don’t understand the almost of trauma I went through having rooms that neighbored all of you during my first year here,” you point your finger at all of them.

“Motion denied,” Daniel sighs, knowing he was probably one of the main culprits.

“So, this dog?” Nico says, changing the subject.

instagram

y/username EVERYONE MEET MY BABY!

since I’m too young to have a baby (according to the club) here is my baby holding our baby, Milo Stroll ❤️🐾🐶

logansargeant look at how big his paws are! he’s gonna be a big boy 😍

y/username his favorite uncle 🥰

danielricciardo @y/username I take offense to that

user1 y/n really had me in the first half

nicohulkenberg she had us too the first time she brought up Milo in conversation

lancestroll what a hot mama 😮‍💨

y/username nothing compared to the absolute DILF holding my sweet puppy in the picture

georgerussel MY EYES! MY INNOCENT EYES

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #f1 grid x reader #max verstappen #checo perez #f1 grid #george russell #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll #nico hulkenberg #fernando alonso #kevin magnussen #valtteri bottas #lewis hamilton #lando norris #logan sargeant

[wcbblife]

Post loss Paige hc

a/n: This has been in my drafts for a bit. Fair warning this was my way to cope with the Uconn vs Iowa game so yeah… Sad hours. Also sorry for going MIA. I just can’t seem to write anything lately :/ also this is not edited so there might be some mistakes

After a tough loss, Paige really tries her hardest to act tough, especially with all the freshmen around looking up to her and the media. But at the end of the day she’s human and she just needs to release her feelings. You feel good that Paige trusts you enough to show this otherwise hidden side of herself.

You remember the nights after the Uconn team fell just a little short of winning where she would collapse on the floor, uniform still on, and just break into silent tears. You searched for her everywhere and once you finally found her the only thing you could think of doing is just offer a silent embrace, knowing that your words wouldn’t help. She holds on to you like a lifeline, holding and pulling you closer and her sobs get a little louder.

She breaks down in your arms and she can’t stop replaying all the errors she committed in the game in her head. You know this because every now and then she’ll just grab the sides of her head and groan or she'll just rant about all the dumb little mistakes that added up.

Paige gets shockingly weak after a loss, wincing from even the slightest movement she does. It’s like her body flares up from even the slightest touch. You have to basically help her walk off the stadium, offering your shoulder to lean on. When you get some alone time with her she constantly asks you to just take care of her. Whether it’s giving her a sweet massage or putting ice on the sore parts of her body or even helping her wash up because she’s just too tired, Paige is eternally grateful for you bc you just take such good care.

She falls asleep instantly after getting to her dorm room but she doesn’t stay down for too long. She’s constantly tossing and turning and groaning around in the bed. She gets up for water, sits down, walks around but nothing works to get her calm. These nights are long for her but she knows she has you when she needs help to calm down and she knows you would never turn her down. Paige apologizes and you constantly have to remind her that you don’t mind bc of course you get what she’s feeling.

Paige literally just needs to be in your arms without speaking. She instantly melts if you just caress her.

The morning after a loss is slow and quiet. Paige is puffy from the crying and her movements are pretty sluggish. But that’s when she’s the clingiest. Like she’ll just want to spend the whole day in bed with you.

You constantly have to stop her from going straight back into the gym. She’s super stubborn about it but you constantly have to remind her that she needs to at least recover. She'll turn into a huge baby about it but gives up at the end, knowing that it's probably best for her to rest.

After a few days or maybe just a few hours, she’ll slowly start to regain herself back. To pay you back from all the help you bring to her when she’s at her lowest, she’ll basically smother you with kisses and hugs and gifts and dates while constantly reminding you that she loves you.

#wcbb #women's basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader

[sergle]

Every time YouTube nonsense happens I'm always like "I can't wait to see what Sergle says about this" because you're the only person I follow that talks about YouTube nonsense.

Please take this is an invitation for you to talk about the Watcher's apology video lol

I am a filthy youtube enjoyer so you can absolutely count on me and GODDDDDDDDDDD... I mean the apology is not NEARLY as funny as the blunder, so it hasn't kept my attention as much but like the obligatory upfront thing is that, like, it is good that they posted it, they apologized for being insensitive and whatever, they're not scraping their channel clean or going forward with their old plan to only post their shows on their own platform, and these are technically good and correct things, because they could have pretended not to notice all the negative feedback. So like, responding is good. BUT LIKE I HAVE QUESTIONS NOW... Because they took SO LONG to film and upload a video that basically is just "we fucked up, we're sorry, we're not gonna do that anymore", which doesn't exactly take a writer's room several days to cook, but I DIGRESS... They were quiet for long enough for everyone to LOOK REALLY CLOSE. After the initial reaction, people had time to do some pretty comprehensive cost breakdowns for their stuff, and for what they have to be pulling in from adsense, sponsored segments, patreon, merch, and touring Like, they'd need to be really mismanaging their finances, because they're doing very well for themselves, making good, stable money, and the vids they make are super duper advertiser friendly. SO... you take long enough without putting out a holder statement or a quick heel-turn apology or anything, it gives people more time to get comfortable with not liking you, and also to dig around and google things about you, or scrape up info/trivia about you to corroborate their new opinion of you. It gets personal, is what I mean. So pulling this move has still, at BEST, caused some permanent damage to their relationships with fans, in both directions. They all got a huge flood of negative feedback, and even a perfect, emotionally mature, non-entitled person would have a negative reaction to people being upset with them at such a high volume. But now they're gonna remember the things that people have said about them, and there's no way that at the very least, Steven isn't gonna feel spiteful about this. People TOTALLY unloaded on him (funny) (valid) about his evangelical christian conservative leaning tesla privileged out of touch boy gold flaked ice cream eating ways. He definitely is going to remember that ppl said they never liked him in the first place. As for Ryan and Shane, people didn't have any dirt on them, but they definitely still received a lot of angry messages from people, most of which will have been reasonable, but they're gonna remember the really really mean and intense ones. Anyway, they made a booboo dumb enough for jack to want to make a skit about it, so for that I'm very grateful, because I thought it was really really fucking funny

#it's no big deal and it's whatevs because it's Low Risk youtube scandal which is why I like it so much #but it still never fails to amaze me how much this didn't need to happen #like this would have been a totally preventable blunder. I can think of a million different ways to increase profit before trying this move #personally I think it's funny to mess up this badly because the Second Messup would be to respond REALLY quickly #You see it trending and you immediately need to act bc it will only get worse the longer you stay quiet #sergle answers #long post

[fuctacles]

A tale as old as time

For @subeddieweek Day 7 | M | 2696 | cw: age gap (about 25-30y difference, Eddie's age is not stated, Steve's aligns with canon) | camboy Eddie, transmasc Eddie, kinda sugar daddy Steve?, modern AU, simp Steve, virgin Eddie, chatfic, pre-anything, gray ace Eddie

"Hawkins High '86? How old is this guy?" Eddie asks himself, his eyebrows raised. There is a letterman in front of him, a gift from one of his top subscribers. Hell, his top subscriber. His number-one fan, who was responsible for about half of his revenue.

He's opened a PO box recently, with no little amount of worry about what kind of stuff he might get. He only gave the address to his top subscribers but he knew that the ones with the most money were usually the most unhinged. He went to the post office with his heart in his throat but all he got was a set of lingerie, a toy, and the letterman he was now holding.

He tried not to think about what kind of people would pay for his content. As long as he was making money he didn't care. But now he got a piece of one of them in his hands. Staring back.

1986.

Meaning the guy must be nearing 60. Double Eddie's age. 

He tries to imagine that. An older guy, with wrinkles, maybe a beer belly, a gross old t-shirt, and his hand permanently in his sweats, beating it to his photos. 

It was gross. And in a way, alluring.

Though someone with so much money to spend on a camboy must have a well-paying job. Some rich asshole, exploiting others to do the work for him. That's a more likely scenario. He tries not to think about big, rough hands on him when he puts on the jacket and takes pics for Shar.

He edits them a bit before sending them, knowing the guy will get a kick from seeing him in his jacket. The appeal of wearing your boyfriend's letterman eluded him in high school, but being claimed like that gave him a heady feeling. The fact that the guy could be his father apparently worked for him too. 

He doesn't put his phone away fast enough and sees the message that pops up.

Shar: So hot. You look like every repressed teen jock's dream

Shar: Definitely like mine

Eddie thinks a moment about his response, channeling the persona he takes on for the camera. 

PuppetOfMasters: Would I be your dirty secret?

PuppetOfMasters: Would you fuck me in the locker room behind your girlfriend's back?

Shar: I'd make YOU my girlfriend

Shar: Wait no

Shar: NOT LIKE THAT

Shar: A girlfriend but in a manly way

Eddie snorts.

You're good, he types. I know what you mean, don't worry.

He wouldn't keep around someone who didn't respect him. Besides, he made it clear he's saving for a transition with his Only Fans.

Thank god, Shar types. I respect who you are 

Shar: In fact, I spend so much money on you because of it. 

Eddie rolls onto his other side, his mood souring. One of those trans fetishists, then. That's fine, as long as he's being respectful and paying... Even if it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth. 

Ah, a connoisseur! Well, I hope I'm your favorite tranny, then, he jokes. He waits for an answer, but it doesn't come for a long while, so he flips his phone screen down and turns away, hoping for sleep.

A response is waiting for him when he wakes up. 

Shar: I guess it sounded that way, but I'm not that kind of pervert. You're the only trans sex worker I follow, but not the only trans person I've sent money to.

Eddie sauntered to the bathroom, not taking his eyes off his phone. He wonders if continuing the conversation is even the right move. He's talked to one too many guys who thought sending him a dick pick was okay after ten minutes of small talk between a content creator and a fan.

But he's kind of curious. When he has money to spare, he sends some change to other trans folks to help out, because he knows how hard it is from his own experience. But why Shar, a seemingly loaded old guy, would spend his money on queers instead of, let's say, starving children?

PuppetOfMasters: So you're just an ally with cash? Or is there more to it? I'm curious.

He goes through his morning routine, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, not expecting Shar to get back to him any time soon. So he's surprised when he picks his phone back up and a response is waiting.

Shar: Long story short, I hope my father is rolling in his grave while I spend his inheritance on people he hated so much.

That's not what Eddie expected at all. 

PuppetOfMasters: So I'm a means of rebellion against your bigoted dead father? I'll take that. I hate rich assholes

Shar: Me too

They don't talk for the whole day after that, but when Eddie's done running errands and editing in the evening, he looks back at the letterman hanging on the door of his wardrobe. 

How is sending me your letterman an act of rebellion? he asks. Because he's a curious little shit. 

The response comes fast like the guy is glued to his Only Fans chat. Gross. Eddie wonders briefly if he's talking with other sex workers there.

Shar: A souvenir of his precious high school fetishized on a queer ssex worker? He'd die if he hadn't already

So it is a fetish thing! Eddie smiles triumphantly at his phone.

Shar: Okay, fine

Shar: Sticking it to my father is just a bonus for you being really hot. 

Shar: And I do love seeing you in my letterman, I've jerked off to it three times already

Shar: is that what you wanted to hear?

Eddie grins, rolling on his bed.

PuppetOfMasters: Yes 

Shar: So yeah, I'm an old man who peaked in high school, laugh it up

PuppetOfMasters: I'd rather you peaked in me

Shar: Insufferable

Shar: Menace

Shar: Yeah, I'd love that. A man can dream, right?

Eddie bites his lip. How far is too far? The guy seems genuine and after the amount of creeps that's been chatting him up, he thinks his creep radar is quite good. Tentatively, he starts typing.

PuppetOfMasters: I don't know. I think people would like seeing me get railed by an older guy

Shar: An old guy, you mean

Shar: You'd make a video with me?

PuppetOfMasters: I record most of the sex I have, yes

Shar: Huh. I've never seen one before, then

PuppetOfMasters: warm, warmer

Shar: ... There aren't any?

PuppetOfMasters: din ding ding! ya boy is a virgin

Shar: shit

Shar: fuck

Shar: that's so hot

Shar: you'd let me?

PuppetOfMasters: Would I let my best-paying subscriber be my first time on camera? Probably

Not necessarily to be released but he couldn't lose the possibility of such golden content in case it was watchable. 

Shar: I'd better keep my spot then. Just in case.

PuppetOfMasters: No worries, you seem the most trustworthy so far anyway.

But as he types it, a new notification appears. Shar sent him a hefty tip on one of his photos.

PuppetOfMasters: That's really not necessary

PuppetOfMasters: But I hope your father is kicking and screaming in his coffin

Shar: I fucking hope so

----

It takes Eddie another day to google Hawkins High's yearbook photos. He'd thought about it before but didn't want to break the bubble of anonymity between himself and his fan. But the thoughts of big hands on his hips, and beard rubbing against his neck, took root in his brain and were tainting his mind.

Not fully in tune with his body and distrustful of others, Eddie has been single for most of his life. And now his stupid horny brain was drooling at the thought of losing his virginity to a grandpa on the internet. 

Hoping it would help his thoughts calm down, he looks through the photos from the year 1986, in search of a Harrington. And he finds him.

Steve Harrington. Basketball captain and swim team co-captain. His hairdo was magnificent and his smile was self-confident. Eddie would hate him in high school. Should probably hate him now. So he expands his search further, beyond the Hawkins High memory lane.

He finds one single photo on a LinkedIn profile. 

The current Steve Harrington's hair is no less magnificent, just peppered with silver. He wears glasses now, which accentuate the line of his jaw and make his neatly trimmed facial hair pop out. He's wearing a yellow jacket and a white golf, which should be hideous but weirdly, works for him. Eddie doesn't get to see his eyes, unfortunately. The photo looks like a candid photo shoot take-out after someone told him a joke. His head is tilted down, eyes scrunched and lips pulled in a smile, as a bubbling laugh got immortalized on camera.

Eddie shouldn't be finding a sixty-year-old man this endearing. 

PuppetOfMasters: I like your LinkedIn photo

PuppetOfMasters: Well, I hope it's you. 

PuppetOfMasters: Steve, right?

He can't forget about this for the whole day, not as he budgets his income, and especially not when he records a short video jerking off in the shower. He tries not to look at his phone but it's his only one, so he does while trying to budget in a second one, just for sex work. Maybe then he wouldn't be feeling so insane about not getting a response from a stranger who is an old pervert spending loads of money on him. 

He tries to be normal when a chat notification finally pops up. 

Shar: If you saw the golf and yellow jacket photo, that's me

Shar: though please don't make me type my full name in here.

no worries, Eddie types back so fast he should be embarrassed. It's a good photo.

Shar: Thanks. My best friend took it 

PuppetOfMasters: Your friend has a good eye

Shar: I'll let her know

Shar: I'm surprised it took you this long to search me up

Eddie's surprised too. Usually, his curiosity would take over him sooner.

PuppetOfMasters: I tried not to pry. But I had to in case we were gonna meet up one day

Shar: So you were serious?

Shar: I've been wondering if you sweet-talk all your followers like that 

PuppetOfMasters: Only the ones that don't send me dick pics

Shar: I knew holding back would pay off

Eddie snorts at his phone. 

Though I might need one before we meet up, he types. Gotta know what I'm working with

Shar: Right. Of course

Shar: So how would that work?

Eddie hasn't thought about it this far.

PuppetOfMasters: I need to read about OF's policy on collabs. Never had to before, since I work solo. Would probably have to hire you, well, sign a commission/gig contract or something like that. So it's all legal and shit.

Shar, Steve, doesn't answer for a long while, and it might be the end of his devirginizing journey. Well, if the guy doesn't want to make this legal, put his name on some paperwork, then he isn't trustworthy, and that's the end of it.

It's half an hour later and Eddie's bitten all his nails off trying not to follow up with any messages and focus on anything else when an answer finally comes.

Shar: Sorry my friend was bothering me

Shar: this sounds more complicated than I anticipated. So I would be like, a co-creator, then?

PuppetOfMasters: Precisely

Shar: Holy shit okay

Shar: Thought I'd be you know, less involved

Though you could hit it and quit it, huh? Eddie scrunched his nose. What was he getting himself into? Gods.

Shar: If that's what you wanted I'd take it

Eddie shouldn't be blushing over this one. It's like he's throwing the man scraps and he's licking them up.

PuppetOfMasters: Simp

Shar: I am what I am

Shar: With that said, I'm willing to make it work. Do all the paperwork you need

PuppetOfMasters: Doing paperwork just to fuck me? so romantic

Shar: I suck at paperwork so my friend would be doing it anyway

Shar: If that's okay

PuppetOfMasters: I think it's best if someone looks it over, yeah

Eddie hesitates for a moment.

PuppetOfMasters: That friend doesn't happen to be your wife?

Fuck no, comes the immediate response

Shar: I'm perpetually single and she's as gay as they come. 

PuppetOfMasters: Good. Wouldn't want to be the other girl

Shar: If I had the chance you'd be the only one

PuppetOfMasters: Jesus.

Eddie squeezes his legs together unconsciously.

PuppetOfMasters: Stop sweet talking me, I've already agreed to fuck

Shar: But we haven't signed anything yet. Even then, I'll keep sweet-talking you. It's what you deserve. 

For the first time, Eddie thinks he might not survive their meeting. And not because of the possible killer scenario. Thankfully, Steve gets back to business talk.

Shar: How would this work, legal stuff aside? Do you script this?

PuppetOfMasters: Do I look like I script shit?

Shar: I'm not the one with Only Fans

PuppetOfMasters: Fair. I think we could just set up cameras and do whatever we feel like. Then decide together if the footage will be released or not. 

Shar: Sounds reasonable

Shar:When would you want to do this?

When?

Eddie hasn't thought that far. In fact, he felt like he hadn't been thinking for the past couple of days. 

I'm the sole god of my schedule so I'm open to anything, he types evasively.

Shar: I have some time off next month, could fly to wherever you need me

Next month seemed close. Extremely close. Or maybe it wasn't? He never worked with anyone before. Hell, he didn't even have that many friends to meet up with. 

Next month works I guess, he answers despite his nerves.

Shar: Wanna face time before we start the legal work?

His nerves escalate, making his mouth dry. He reminds himself he's done this before, he's on camera all the time. 

PuppetOfMasters: Like, right now?

Shar: Yeah?

PuppetOfMasters: Ok, give me five minutes.

Eddie shoots up, checks himself in the mirror, and finds a good angle for his phone to set up. He lowkey hopes Steve picks up with his dick in the frame so Eddie can block him with a clear conscience and forget about the whole thing. When six minutes from his last message pass, he hits 'call'.

"Hi," Eddie squeaks when the video connects. Steve Harrington's arms are in the frame, crossed on the desk, and toned where he's leaning on them.

"Hi," he greets him with a dazzling smile. 

It is the guy from the photo, so at least he's not being catfished. And he has none of the creepy simp energy Eddie feared. He's just... a guy. It's both a relief and a disappointment. 

"Well?" the guy asks.

"Well, what?" Eddie frowns. 

"Are you disappointed? Am I too old?"

Eddie looks at him properly. His hair is lighter on the sides, but not grey yet, and the video quality doesn't make any wrinkles stand out to him. Maybe some worry lines, crow's feet if he squints. He looks like he keeps in shape, too. Eddie wouldn't call him old. Mature, maybe. A DILF slowly transforming into a Silver Fox. 

"You look fine. Good. You look good. Attractive," Eddie fumbles with his words and barely stops himself from facepalming. This is why he mostly texts.

Steve smirks at him. And holy shit, a dude twice his age smirking at him shouldn't be doing things to his body.

"You sure? You're not gonna block me after we hang up, are you?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"I stand by our plans. You're passing my creep radar so far, but uh..." He scratches his cheek nervously. "I'd like to keep in touch in case, you know. A red flag pops up. I hope you get it."

Steve nods, his expression growing serious.

"Absolutely. We're strangers, after all."

"Yeah." Eddie nods, relieved. It would give him ample time and opportunities to back out.

On the screen, Steve leans more on his arms, closer to the camera. 

"So I think dick assessment is next on the checklist?"

Eddie might not even survive video calls with this guy, after all. 

#subeddieweek #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #cj x subeddieweek #mine #steddie #cw: age gap #camboy au #modern au #transmasc eddie munson #this story got away from me as soon as it started #i just wanted to write some online domming but no #some mmmm older guy touching me???? kinda hot #b u t NO

[spacesodaa]

Hi there! I saw that you accept requests! So, I was thinking about Wriothesley having a special person who is basically a sunshine, who loves nature, seeing the sky, singing and basically being a darling, but who has experienced very traumatic situations. But despite this they don't lose their innocence and warm smile.

I would love to read something like that.

Thank you, and take care!

Helooo, this sounds absolutely adorable! I will do my best!

Sorry if this took a bit long, I hope you like it ^^

Wriothesley x Reader - Brighter Than The Sun

Characters: Wriothesley, Reader

Summary: Reader is a little sunshine and Wrio is down BAD

Warning: unadulterated fluff bro

A/N: I posted this without text by mistake lmao

Wriothesley sighed heavily as he read the same sentence for the third time. He had been on the same stack of papers for about an hour with scarce results. He couldn't seem to focus and the more he willed the clock to go faster the slower the hands seemed to move. Tea break felt ages away.

He let his head fall into the desk with a thick thud and groaned in frustration. What was this? The fourth break he took? Today there seemed to be no way to get his work done.

Oh how he wished he could hear you sing, maybe it would reset his brain. Unfortunately for him you had gone out to the court of fontaine to run some errands, his valiant attempts to keep you glued to him in bed proved to be futile.

Sometimes he struggled to believe you were real and right at his side. You always had a soft smile on your face, eyes shining. To him your eyes weren't the only part of you that shone, in fact he saw all of you as a star. You went about your day shining with the force of a thousand suns, comforting whoever was around you simply with your reassuring presence. The first time he had experienced this quality of yours was also the first time he had met you. He was having a bad day and he was this close to punching whoever rubbed him the wrong way first, you on the other hand were happily chatting with a friend of yours at the reception desk. You didn't belong there, instead having come to visit said friend at her new job. Hell he wouldn't believe you belonged in the fortress even if he saw you commit a crime with his own eyes.

The receptionist had gone in fight or flight mode as soon as she had seen him, stammering a greeting. You turned and met his gaze, following with a polite greeting and that warm smile of yours. There wasn't any fear in your shiny eyes, nor pity for him being there for that matter. Your relaxed demeanor intrigued him, he was used to people feeling tense around him, yet you didn't seem to be. You then asked him about the fortress, roping him into a conversation he didn't think he needed. He realized at the end of it, that he was much calmer than before and even though the conversation was one he had had many times, he felt refreshed.

Later he had summoned the courage to ask the receptionist about you and the rest became history. He still looked back fondly to that day, as he did with every memory he had of you. There was this warmth about you and everything you did, he simply couldn't get enough of it. It wasn't surprising he had fallen head over heels for you. You had accepted every part of him without question, even the darkest corners, so much so, that your light had made those corners a little less daunting. What had surprised him though, was that you yourself had dark corners. He struggled to believe someone who shone so brightly as you did, had such big of a baggage to carry around.

Later he had witnessed when your light dimmed as you cried in his arms about the same reoccurring nightmare, about all the blood you had seen spilled, about the fear you had faced. Yet even if dimmed, you never stopped shining.

A knock at the door made him almost jump out of his chair. He was so engrossed in the details of your radiant face in his mind that he had gotten distracted. Wriothesley sighed yet again. He figured he couldn't get more distracted than this at that point so he answered.

"Come in" he absentmindedly ordered the stack of papers on his desk, swearing to himself he would get to them at some point.

What he hadn't expected, was for you to show up into his office, at least not at this hour.

"Wriooo" you sang cheerfully as you skipped towards his desk with your hands behind your back.

"Welcome back, I wasn't expecting you to be back so early" he got up from his chair, maybe a little too eagery, pulling an amused chuckle out of you.

"I finished all my commissions" you said "missed me?"

"Of course I did" he admitted and pulled you in for a hug. You responded right away, burying your head in his sculpted chest. When his muscles were at rest he made a damn good pillow and you loved it.

"I brought you something!" You beamed, letting him go briefly to hand hin a small green bag "I hope you don't have this one yet"

"Thank you darling" he took the bag from your hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek, followed by one on your lips. You hummed contently in response.

"Well, lucky for you I don't have this tea yet. I've actually wanted to order this for some time" Wriothesley studied the tea bag intently "how about an early tea break? I want to try this with you" he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

"Absolutely, I've also brought pastries!" You gestured to a colorful paper bag you had left by the door when entering.

"Oh how lost I would be without you" the duke said in a rather dramatic tone.

"I bet" you poked at his nose, grinning.

Your light was almost blinding. Nonetheless he would still keep staring at his sun even if it blinded him.

#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin impact x reader #wriothesely genshin #genshin fluff

[emeraldkniight]

Older bat! Damian with super or wonder reader who's like sheltered and oblivious to the real world and they go on a mission or smith together and the whole times she's just doing whatever he says because that's what she's used to and he's just like damnn and finds that really attractive

— 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ! ☆

older!damian wayne x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble smut. porn with a plot. dirty talk. fingering. Damian uses Arabic nicknames.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I don't know how I feel about myself today, but I decided to write this for you anyway. I hope you like it. <3

It was one of the first times you, a young girl exiled from the real world and born on an island paradise inhabited only by women, had contact with what was considered 'the real world.' You were not yet accustomed to many things, especially the existence of men, or perhaps men like Damian Wayne.

On Themyscira, you were used to following orders. When the Queen or your trainer told you to "do this," you knew exactly what to do. But when you joined the Justice League and met Batman, you initially believed you were supposed to act the same way. You soon realized that maybe you should have listened when Jon told you to ignore him completely.

At that moment, Damian Wayne, now known as Batman, was the last person you wanted to be trapped with in a situation like this. The two of you were locked in a reinforced room with no way out, where neither your strength nor your wits could help you get out. So you found yourself trapped with the one man who liked to bark orders like he was the king of Gotham.

— You really don't know what to do? — He asked, annoying you again. — Before, Wonder Women were effective.

However, you tried to heed Jon's advice; thus, you responded to him without intending to participate in his game.

— Yes, and in my land, men didn't even exist. So I'm just getting used to working with the inefficiency of one.

Damian slowly approached the box you were sitting in with an annoying grin on his face.

— In fact, I am a detective. Of course I know how to get out of here.

Your confused expression made him smile even harder at your confusion. You weren't sure if it was fair to feel like a complete idiot, but that was exactly how you felt at that moment. Besides, you didn't like him at all.

— And you never thought to open the door, or are you just trying to annoy me by making me live with you?

— Actually... — He replied, moving even closer to you. — I'm testing you. Go and open the door as best you can — He finally ordered.

And as if it were a sacred word, you stood up, determined to open the door to the room at any cost. At first, you tried to break it down with blows, but your strength wasn't enough. It was probably made of some incredibly strong material, possibly of alien origin.

— Try pulling the doorknob with your lasso — he suggested, and once again, you listened.

Damian couldn't help but find the way you obeyed like a trained dog incredibly attractive. Deep down, he felt that he had you at his mercy and that no matter what he asked you to do, you would listen.

Totally exhausted from the effort, you knelt on the ground, but you didn't give up. Feeling sorry for you, he reached over to stroke your hair, trying to calm you down.

— Pretty obedient little thing. — He flattered, lifting your chin so you could look him in the eye. — You don't know how to say no, do you?

A wave of intense heat enveloped you. Perhaps it was the first time you had ever found yourself in an intimate situation with someone, as you had always believed that your body was trained solely for an impending war. Yet, when Damian was around, that was the one purpose of your training you occasionally forgot.

— If I asked you to take off your underwear, would you be so obedient, habibati?

Your cheeks reddened immediately. You knew you should avoid this kind of situation, but having been trained on the island, you understood that you had to follow the orders of a superior. Batman was more experienced than you, making him your superior, and you felt obligated to obey him.

Immediately your panties fell down under the metal skirt of your suit, exposing your pussy to the man in the room.

From what you knew about men, you noticed they often looked for specific qualities in women. However, Damian had never shown any boldness towards you. As time passed, the 'sexual tension' that Jon had mentioned began to feel more like an annoyance.

When he saw that you were listening to him, he smiled as usual. But his smile was not one of despair; it was one of desire.

He knelt down to be at the same height as you. Gently, he slid a finger down your soaked pussy while keeping his eyes on yours, watching for any reaction on your face.

You understood what he was doing and how he was touching every part of the anatomy between your legs with precision. What you didn't understand was how he was so skilled at it.

You couldn't hold back your moans as you felt him gently pinch your now throbbing clit. His touch drove you crazy as you felt waves of pleasure crash against you.

— Damn, what a good girl. Sorry to tell you, Habibati... I have a weakness for obedient women.

#dc comics #dc universe #damian wayne #damian wayne smut #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x reader #batboys #smut #batman

[phyrestartr]

Icarus Drabbles (Pt.2) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3.7k [#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, cheating, zenin family mentioned, lightly edited lmfao]

Note: There will prolly be a third drabble thingie lol I just wanted to post SOMETHING

tag: @better-imagination-9

1. Restless

Sukuna finally bagged you, the omega he pined over and hunted down for over a decade, and knocked you up, made you move in with him to ensure he could keep an eye on you and that growing baby bump. His alpha had rejoiced, running its victory lap around Sukuna’s chest, but then it slowed, yawned, and curled up, satiated. 

Now, his human side was left to its own devices, and it was bored. 

Probably because you were boring. Or, well, you’d become boring–you and your omega seemed more in-tune with one another, both settling down as soon as you both agreed on staying with Sukuna, with your mate. To Sukuna’s human instincts, that meant you were about as exciting and fun as doing his taxes. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t fathom letting you go. Whenever the hypothetical crossed his mind, that second set of eyes would open and stare, tear bared, anger rippling. And Sukuna would agree with it. He didn’t want to lose you, yet he didn’t always want you either. 

And he was bored. 

“Hey,” you cooed, leaning over his shoulder as he stared into space on the couch. “You okay?”

Sukuna blinked a few times and rubbed his face tiredly, finding himself growing pissed off at the dull delight your presence brought him. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Need something?”

“Well, Christmas’s coming up,” you reminded. “Wanted to make sure we were still–”

“Can’t.” Bitterness rose in the back of Sukuna’s throat. God, he didn’t even want to look at you right now. “Gotta work.” He finally spared you a glance, but only after a long stretch of silence. You didn’t look perturbed or mad, not really sad or disappointed, just…placid. 

You looked at your phone, staring at something just for a moment before returning back to him with a slight nod of acceptance. “Alright.” 

Sukuna's other bristled. “Alright.” 

“I knew you couldn't really be taken ‘n tied down, Sukuna-sama,” Yorozu cooed as she cozied up into the spot between the man's legs, her hands smoothing up and down his thighs before deftly unlatching his belt and ripping it off. “You're too good for that sort of life.” 

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do with that mouth?” The nice part of Sukuna asked. The less nice part of him wanted to rip her head off and punt it at the stupid fucking moon. Luckily for her, he was trying not to throw as many things at the horizon these days. 

Yorozu's eyes shone with pure delight. “Oh, of course, of course.” She unzipped his slacks expertly quick and pulled free his half-chub, excitedly stroking it to get him to full-mast. 

Sukuna sighed and sank back in his chair, trying to focus and enjoy the attention and spice he so sorely missed, but it was hard. Well, not hard, which was the problem–his mind wasn't finding this (cheating, getting a blow job at his desk, having a woman with tits on his knees for him) exciting. Thankfully, though, his body reacted in his mind's stead, and decided to not embarrass him. 

He closed his eyes and focused on the small hands grasping his base and holding his thigh–but your bigger, stronger hands held him better, digging in without the lethality of acrylics threatening harm. At least her mouth was warm, her lips soft--but your lips were soft, too, and you knew where he liked to feel your tongue press down. Her hair was silky and thick enough to fist his hand in–but yours was just…better. He couldn't describe it, but–

Knock it off, he growled. He needed a break from you, from how mundane you made everything, that was the whole fucking reason he ditched you in the first place. You were boring. You were making life boring. You–

What were you up to, actually? 

Sukuna sighed, this time in defeat, and snatched up his phone while Yorozu gave him head. He scrolled through whatever socials he knew you had, but saw nothing new, nothing Christmas-y. 

Who the hell is he visiting again? He looked to the side, gazing through the huge windows looming behind his desk as he thought, and then remembered. 

Sukuna tapped open your text thread and grimaced–it was so blatantly one-sided. The sight of his flippant convo-killing responses hit him with a wave of psychic damage that probably couldn't be fully healed for as long as he lived. He wasn't a fan of texting, but he was a fan of you. But-wait, didn't he loathe you?

5:05am went to see my mom for christmas

5:05am getting picked up dw

5:06am hope work doesn't suck too much

Right. You went to see family. Right. Sukuna was supposed to meet your mother. 

Damn.

“Fuck's sake,” Sukuna muttered moments before fisting his hand in Yorozu's hair and pulling him off his softening cock. “We're done.” He stood and tucked himself away, ignoring the indignant scoff the woman sent his way. 

“Sukuna–” 

“Leave.” He sent a text your way instead of tuning in to whatever Yorozu said as she picked herself up off her knees:

10:49pm When should I pick you up?

Of course he was gonna pick you up. He wasn’t about to let someone else take care of you for a second longer. 

“Clearly you're unhappy,” Yorozu finally cut in. 

Sukuna saw a read notification pop up in the chat. 

“Clearly that other one isn't satisfying you fully.” 

He watched the three dots pop up as you replied back. 

“After he has your pup–”

10:52pm you can come now

10:52pm if you're free 

“--you should reconsider your choice in mate–” 

Bang.

10:53pm Send me the address.

He stepped over her and the pooling crimson on his way to the door, texting Uraume to call the cleaners to take care of a mess in his office while he went to pick up his baby mama. 

Picking you up had been eventful.

Firstly, Maki and Mai had refused to open the gate for Sukuna in favour of mocking him and exclaiming, “are you kidding me? You're the baby daddy?” while incessantly prodding him for information. You'd managed to bat them aside to let him up to the house, though it took some effort on your part. 

Next, Toji Zenin himself was waiting at the front door, arms crossed, totally unbothered, dressed in his hideous Christmas jumper that his woman had apparently made him wear as punishment for something. Sukuna ribbed him, hiding just how confused he was about the entire thing–he didn't fucking get why there were so many Zenin assholes here. The outcasts, sure, but what the fuck was that about? 

“Oh. Toji's my stepdad,” you said when you had finally squeezed your dragon's hoard of gifts into the car and got in the damn thing to go home. Sukuna left it at that for the time being–he didn't want to think about what the fuck that meant now that the two of you were together. He had time to ask a thousand questions another day.

His mind still whirred in the elevator, though, and when he helped carry your only-child gifts into the penthouse like a servant put under a spell. You said something to him that he only realized a solid fifteen minutes later was, “I'm taking a bath. There's room for two,” and a fire suddenly lit under his ass. 

“Huh, so you can bear to look at me,” you hummed from the bath. It was large and oaken, filled with yuzu thanks to Uraume's thoughtfulness, and it overlooked snowy Tokyo and all its bustling, light-filled glory and–wait, what.

Sukuna scoffed as he pulled off his clothes methodically. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

You watched him undress shamelessly. “It means you still have lipstick on your dick.” You poked away one of the yuzu that bumped into you. “It's not really my colour.” 

Sukuna clenched his teeth and kicked aside his clothes before grabbing the showerhead to wash off before joining you because he was going to join you. No matter the case. No matter the objection. 

But you never objected. You leaned back in the tub and watched him while you rolled another yuzu between your palms. “Did you have fun fucking her?” Fuck, you could be so scary sometimes. And you didn't even have to try.

Sukuna found it hard to answer. He found it hard to even speak. Christ, was this shame? “Look–I didn't fuck her. Didn't even get close.” 

“So she just sucked your dick.”

“Tried. Didn't finish. Couldn't.” 

“So sad. Why not?”

“‘Cause she's not you.” Sukuna finished with the shower and slipped into the bath, sitting across from you with a content sigh. “You give better head.” 

“That went from being somewhat meaningful to annoying,” you grumbled. Still, you scooched over to him and pressed up against his side, clearly in the mood to forgive his stupid little attempted fling. “So. Then you're sure about this.” 

“Sure about what?” Sukuna wondered, suddenly feeling more at ease with the rich scent of you pooling through his senses. He leaned into you when you carefully smoothed his hair out of his face with that usual, simple gentility he'd come to desire so desperately every day. “Sure about you?” 

“Yeah. Us. Everything.” You nuzzled at his neck, dutifully scenting him up with kisses, nips and licks. “You started pulling away like a pussy, so I figured you regretted it.” 

Sukuna had to laugh. “You're callin’ me a pussy?” He half-growled before yoinking you into his lap and squeezing you up against him. His grin widened when he saw you hold back a smile. “I think you should apologize.” 

“You cheated on me with your stalker. Why do I need to apologize?” 

“You hurt my fuckin’ feelings.” 

“Oh. Hm. I see.” Your fingers, bigger than a woman's yet still elegant as a piano player's, danced across his firm shoulders in thought. “I think you need to have feelings for me to hurt them.” 

His hands found their rightful place (on your ass) and kneaded your skin thoroughly, squeezing and pinching wherever he felt most enticed. “You know I have feelings, sweetheart. Why do ya think you're here in the first place, huh?” 

Your scent flared with bashful approval. “Guess that's good to know. These days, you've left me wondering.” 

Sukuna grew placid gazing upon your features, listening to your words. If he really tried, behind that diamond mask of nonchalance most Zenin brats wore, there existed soft, vulnerable skin--tired and ragged, worried and creased. He'd done that to you. Why had he done that to you? 

He lifted a hand from your curves to cup your face gently, his touch breaking through the shields you so bravely put up to tell the world to fuck off. And you leaned into that touch so eagerly, so hungrily, with a sigh that sounded like you just remembered how to breathe. 

“‘M sorry,” Sukuna mumbled. The word felt foreign on his tongue. He didn’t know if he even said it right.

Your eyes squeezed shut just a little tighter, holding onto whatever you could of your crumbling shell as your hand rose to rest on his. “You know I love you,” you said while diamond dust turned to quicksilver.

Sukuna wiped the glimmer from your lashes. “Love you too, runt. Mean it.” Those words still felt strange, too, but he loved those words. He loved the way they made you glow from within, how they solidified you and stopped you from collapsing into a melted mess in the face of his betrayal and swift try at redemption. 

You nodded a little, the hard line of your mouth softening. Sukuna relaxed and hugged you close to him, purring deep in his chest in rhythm with you as you wholly accepted him in return and buried your face into his neck. He did the same, scenting you the way you had him, enjoying your company and weight against him. Because he loved you. He really did. 

So, he said once again, “Sorry.”

2. Family Matters

“Sukuna,” Wasuke warned. The attention of the younger alpha, leaning against the counter, was on you as you yapped on about this and that with his little brother.

Sukuna grunted and looked over his shoulder at the old man, though, silently and curtly asking, what? even though he already knew what was coming.

“Leave that boy alone.” 

Sukuna stared at his grandfather. It'd become more and more common, the way the young man challenged his elder, maintaining hostile eye contact that threatened the beginning of the end if the older broke first–but he never did. The old fuck was too tough. Molded by whatever his own colourful irezumi put him through. 

Once, when he was younger, Sukuna wanted to know how to break his elder. He wanted to crack him open and rip those secrets from him, find out how he could use that knowledge to his advantage to never feel so small in the eyes of another ever again. He hated it. He hated the dominance held over him, the humility that came with it. 

But, like always, Sukuna broke first, looking away with a grumble, reinforcing his place in the food chain.

Sukuna sighed. The old house was the same–far too traditional, too plain, too normal. It irked him to his core. Here, amidst all the boring normal shit of his past, his status in society no longer mattered; here, he forfeited first place, and took up second.

“Hey,” came your voice, muffled by the car window separating you from your lover. When Sukuna looked over at you, he saw his little nugget tucked safely in your arms, only half-awake as she nuzzled into the warmth of your chest. 

But then there was you. A face full of confusion, annoyance, and exasperation greeted Sukuna. You went for the door handle to wrench your man out of the car, but he locked it, watching you yank on the handle a handful of times before you knocked on the window incessantly. 

“Get out of the goddamn car, you little shit,” you hissed, looking between Sukuna and the front door of the house frantically. You stared at him hard, then, your frustration building every second your alpha refused to budge and end the embarrassment crashing down on you. 

A terrifyingly calm expression took over your face, before you adjusted the little pup in your arms and fished something out of your pocket. Sukuna didn't realize what it was until you leaned over and slammed your fist into the hood of the car, tearing into it easily with the fucking key in your hand. 

“You gotta be shitting me–” Sukuna scrambled to unlock the door and swing it open. He hopped out and slammed the car door closed. “You little–” 

“Oh, good, you found your balls.” 

Sukuna groaned as he looked at the damage you left. “Baby, you know how expensive this is gonna be to fix? Fucking hell, why're you such a crazy bitch?” 

“Well, look who I'm stuck with,” you said lightly. “Obviously you've corrupted me. It's not my fault.”

Sukuna grumbled and turned to you, grabbing you and pulling you close; but instead doling out a punishment as his past self was so accustomed to doing, he aggressively nuzzled the top of your head, viciously scenting you up and squeezing you against his solid frame while he grumbled and growled. 

“I'm splitting you in half when we get home.” 

You sighed, dramatic. “Oh no. I'm so afraid. But I guess I deserve such a brutal punishment. Sigh.” You nuzzled him back before tiptoeing up to kiss his chin, then his lips when he leaned down to meet you the rest of the way. “Ready?” 

Sukuna took a deep breath and looked over your face, running the back of his fingers against the rise of your cheekbone. He loved touching your face these days (more than usual). You still held onto a bit of pregnancy plushness that filled in the hollow angles of your handsomely beautiful face and other once-bony parts of your body. You'd never panicked about it, but you bitched and moaned, loudly lamenting about the way your clothes fit a little differently or how you just had to keep stealing Sukuna's shirts to replace your own. 

Touka, your little one, mewled from her spot smooshed between her parents. Sukuna sighed as he pulled back to look down at her, hoping she'd take most the heat off of him when he faced his grandfather again. 

“Let's just get this over with.” 

Yuuji was the one who answered the door. He lived with Wasuke, claiming it was just easier and cheaper than getting his own place, but most knew the younger was a worry wart; he couldn't stand by and let his grandfather get put in a home or quietly tough out everyday life on his own in his elderly years. Yuuji stayed for the sake of family, and Wasuke quietly welcomed it. His brother's goodness nearly struck Sukuna with guilt. 

But any chance at guilt died the moment he met the old bastard's stony gaze. 

“Itadori-san,” you cooed pleasantly, a far cry from the demon that'd keyed Sukuna's car. “It's good to see you again.” 

Wasuke quirked a brow and walked up to you, nudging Yuuji aside so he could get a good look at you and the pup nestled to your chest. Sukuna took a breath and looked away. He didn't need to see the critical stare of the old man while he processed the fact that Sukuna had indeed not stayed away from you. Ugh, the idea of being scolded made the alpha itch. 

“We're far beyond honorifics, boy. You know that,” Wasuke lightly scolded, and you beamed. Sukuna could imagine a little shiba inu tail on you, wagging fast enough to take flight. “I'm glad to see you in one piece after taming my grandson. It must've been a damn ordeal.”

Yuuji cackled impishly, pointing at Sukuna. “Oooh, burn.” 

“Sorry, who got the omega in the end?” Sukuna quipped back, making Yuuji sprout a grumpy look and cross his arms with a mumbled you suck. 

“Quit the fighting and come in,” Wasuke ushered. “And you,” he snapped, looking at Sukuna with chronic disapproval, “Take off those sunglasses. You're trying too hard. Look like an idiot.”

You stifled your laughter as Sukuna grumbled and plucked his shades off. His very cool, very neat, very fancy, very expensive shades.

Wasuke ushered you all inside, gesturing to the kotatsu prepared with food and drinks and starting off on a grumbling rant about the shitty cold mornings and warm afternoons that came with Spring. Obviously, he'd complained to break the ice, and it worked. 

Small talk turned into easier conversation. Whenever Sukuna seemed to struggle with being cordial, you would lean into him more, squeezing his hand tightly whilst purring under the radar. That worked, too. As much as Sukuna was an asshole, he didn't want the afternoon to fall apart. Better he stay quieter than say something to regret. 

“They've calmed you down,” Wasuke said, snapping Sukuna's mind to attention. It was then that he finally noticed Yuuji had effectively kidnapped little Touka and was giving her a tour of the house like she actually gave a shit. 

“Hm?” He grunted, so eloquent. 

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, leaning into your partner more with a sigh. “Words, not grunts, Sukuna.”

He huffed. “You grunt at me all the damn time.” 

“Not at our elders.” 

“Tch.” Sukuna rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Whaddaya mean they've calmed me down, huh?” 

Wasuke, for once, looked somewhat amused. “Your pup. Your mate. They've made you human.” 

“Ha? You're actin’ like I was some four-armed, two-faced freak or some shit.” 

“Some days you acted like it,” Wasuke scoffed. “Doesn't matter if you agree or not, I can see the change in you, kid–that wild thing inside of you is finally settling down.”

You hummed and looked up at him. “I've noticed, too. You're less pissy. More tolerant. Still annoying, but that's just a personality flaw.” Sukuna growled and nipped at you, but you faced him so very bravely and suffered no such nip. 

“I'm glad for you, kid,” Wasuke interjected, breaking up the petty fight that was about to go down. The two of you looked back to the eldest. “You were a real pain in the ass, and you fucked up a lot along the way, but you made things work out. You should be proud.” 

Sukuna would never be able to put his feelings, the utter rush he felt getting his grandfather's approval, into words. 

“So where does this end, kid?” Wasuke asked. 

“What?” He asked before he could properly think it through. 

“This life. Your ‘profession.’ How long're you gonna keep that up, huh?” 

Sukuna could feel you lean into him more, letting more body weight ease your shared worries about the life you shared and the professions you'd taken up. Both unpredictable. Both in the crosshairs of dangerous beasts.

“You think we'll end up six feet under like mom ‘n dad, that it?” Sukuna rasped. He looped an arm around your waist and squeezed you against his side in reassurance as Wasuke's expression grew gloomier.

“You're more like your mother than you know, kid. You don't–”

“‘Course I don't know,” Sukuna interrupted, firm but not vicious. “Mom was a fucking moron ‘n knocked up whoever the fuck she could to get an in into one of those big-name clans. No shit they'd get pissed off and kill the bitch.” 

Wasuke scowled, but didn't argue. It was hard to when his daughter in-law was in the wrong, when she dug her own grave with every child sired before slipping and falling in on her own. A sad story. An incredibly stupid one, too. 

“That won't happen,” you offered mildly. Sukuna looked down at you, suddenly feeling the urge to shoot another baby into you as you spoke up on your own. “I trust Sukuna as much as I trust myself; he's worked hard to create an untouchable empire, and I have the connections to supplement it.” You glanced up at him. “If it's not Sukuna, then it'll be someone else running Tokyo. I couldn't think of a better king.”

A beat of silence passed before Wasuke asked, “And you, kid?” You afraid? 

Sukuna willed his mind out of R-rated territory to look at his grandfather. “You know me,” he started with a troublesome grin, “I can't stay away from what I want.” 

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[fiddleleafedfig]

@wolfstarmicrofic | April 23:rd Teacher AU | Also inspired by this incredible post | 971 words

“It’s because I’m gay.”

Dora’s words had echoed in his head for the better duration of two years.

Two years.

Jesus Christ.

It sounds more clear now that there isn’t an ever pressing haze of alcohol clouding his brain. But alas, he frankly can’t afford to be an alcoholic anymore. He wasn’t even that good at it. A bottle of wine every evening and Remus just turned into a weepier version of his otherwise quite bleak self and watched old rom-coms on tv until he fell asleep on the couch.

But an English teacher’s salary isn’t hefty enough to really support a proper addiction and Remus hadn’t ever been the type of person to steal a car or break into someone’s house just to fuel his habit. With his luck he’d get caught right away anyway.

“This can’t come as a surprise, Rem, we never even had an active sexlife.”

Sure, fine, maybe they hadn’t. But they had been married for years; university best friends turned adult lovers and confidants turned married at twenty five and divorced at thirty three.

The divorce had at least been simple, easy, just like anything else about their relationship. One second she was there, dying her hair in the tub and staining it all bubblegum pink — the next she was moving out and downloading lesbian dating apps.

Remus munches salad from his little packed lunch. He should be planning his classes whilst having lunch — he refuses to, he’d rather sit here all bent-backed and pretend that the salad actually tastes better, that he isn’t regretting moving across the country to get away from it all. That his new life isn’t sinking his mood just like the old one did.

There’s a knock on his classroom door.

Remus looks up from his sad salad. “Come in?”

The door, covered in prints of Shakespeare plays and old illustrations of Of Mice and Men and other English class classics, opens to reveal the knocker.

Sirius has his hair in a bun today, black strands tied back and into a scrunchy that could rival the cheekiest of cheerleaders’. Other than that he is in his usual all black attire, all except his rainbow colored lanyard which holds his keys and the miniature periodic table keyring.

Sirius smiles. It’s all gray eyes that look like they’re sparkling under the hideous fluorescents and can make even the toughest lunch lady blush.

“Hi Remus, is this a bad time?”

Remus tries to swallow the tightness in his throat.

He can’t really deal with Sirius popping by like this, he’s done it quite frequently since Remus’ first week.

“No, not really,” he says, trying to keep his hands from fiddling and his eyes from darting around the room. “What can I help you with?”

Sirius shrugs, careless and relaxed. “I was just wondering if I could borrow your stapler. Seems like mine’s wandered off.”

Sirius drives a motorbike to school.

Remus saw him get off it in the parking lot not too long ago. It felt like the world stood still or maybe moved in slow motion when Sirius removed his helmet and shook his hair out, kitted out in leather. Then his neck got all hot, for some god forsaken reason, and he had to go splash cold water on his face before facing his students in the first period.

So many of Sirius’ supplies have gone missing in the short time where they have worked together.

“Erhm… Yeah, sure— absolutely,” Remus stumbles through sentences as he stands to go fetch the stapler in the supply closet. He turns the little key and quickly looks over the closet, a bit too aware that Sirius is coming closer; if he isn’t misinterpreting the scuff of boots on the floor.

He grabs the stapler, turns around. “Here.”

Sirius is right behind him, right in front of him now. Looking up at Remus with his easy smile and rows of lovely black lashes and… and… and pink lips.

“Thanks, I’ll give it back as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Yeah…”

Sirius leaves. Remus has to go sit down, he’s feeling dizzy.

“Are you even attracted to me, Rem? I mean— it’s fine if you aren’t. Maybe I’m not your type or something.”

There was always something hidden in Dora’s words, at least in those words. Remus hadn’t come any closer to figuring them out, not even two years later.

He just sits in his darkening apartment, playing those words over and over whilst watching-but-not-really-watching tv. He should really go over to Sirius’ classroom tomorrow. You know, just to make sure he remembers to give the stapler back. And it has absolutely nothing to do with what Dora said those years ago, nothing at all.

In the following morning, Remus dresses in his good shirt and wrestles with his hair for a touch longer than usual. Why? Don’t worry about it.

He goes into work with a determination and anxiety churning in his belly.

He walks up to Sirius’ classroom, a print of Neil deGrasse Tyson on the door, and knocks.

Deep breath.

Sirius opens the door. Light eyes and smiling lips and an overall undeniably beautiful face.

Stapler, that’s what he’s there for.

“Will you go out with me?”

What?! No!

Remus was supposed to ask about the stapler!

Fuck!

Sirius just looks back up at him, glittering eyes and widening smile. He doesn’t say anything.

Remus tries to backpedal. “The stapler — I really need my stapler, that’s what I meant.”

Sirius just smiles. “So I just missed the point two second window of going out with you?”

There’s cotton in Remus’ ears, ringing in his brain. “No— I mean… Wait— Did you want to go out with me?”

Sirius’ smile looks like it’s almost too big for his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #writing #fig’s venturing out into the world of microfics #anything to procrastinate my actual large writing project

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

#PHEW THIS IS LONG. i wrote some extra footnotes and tidied it up a bit. but uh. here you go! my personal headcanon baseline for postcanon. #i could probably elaborate more but that would get unwieldy. like i have opinions on loop's dynamics w each party member but. LONG POST... #lucabytetalks #isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time #isat loop #isiloop #sloopis #WONT be tagging everyone thats absurd. loop centric post though with a chunk about nille at the end #isat act 6 spoilers

[zipper-ghost]

From chapter 2 and 3 of my fic where Kim and Harry go to a gay club for a case

You can read the uploaded chapters so far here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55229812/chapters/140088478

First part of chapter 3 is under the cut. Waiting for my friend to finish beta reading it for consistency and general unhingedness before I post it.

The smoking section is a small square patio with exposed brick walls on all sides, a couple of chairs, and a trellis with a brown drying vine. A string of fairy lights drapes the walls and provides the barest illumination. Kim is relieved to find it empty. He can still feel the bass of the music inside through the walls. Lighting his cigarette he leans against the exposed brick wall and inhales a lung full of smoke. 

He reaches for his notebook which isn’t in his jacket. 

Tonight is more stressful than Kim expected it to be. It’s been nearly a decade since the last time he’d been at a gay club and he’s no longer used to the atmosphere. He can’t believe he used to find the loud music and crowds fun. 

Harry is having fun, at the very least. As Kim expected, he is very popular. 

“I can’t believe him,” Kim mutters. It annoys him, more than he likes to admit, how pleased Harry is at getting attention from those two young boys. They are twenty-five at most. 

Kim exhaled the smoke through his nose, the scent of chestnut engulfing him. He glanced down at his hands, for once without driving gloves. The skin is tight against sinew and bone, with blue veins visible underneath. He isn’t young anymore. He isn’t spritely, wide-eyed, enthusiastic, adventurous, or full of wonder. Kim isn’t sure he has never not been jaded. But now he gets pain in his back and neck randomly and he can’t sleep as easily as he once could, he can’t drink as much without getting terribly hungover. 

Kim shouldn’t be surprised that Harry is enamored with them. He always had a thing for young, pretty, whimsical things- people unlike Kim. 

Kim takes a deep drag of hot air and then watches his cigarette balanced between his fingers thoughtfully. His body relaxes, and the jittery feeling in his hands eases. A part of his dreads going back inside and seeing Harry dancing with Lucas. 

That boy has no shame, rubbing himself against Harry and mewling like a kitten. Kim could never- 

Kim shakes his head. He’d never want to act like that, crawling all over Harry and shamelessly flirting with him for all the world to see. 

Of Harry’s many flaws, the one that bothers Kim the most is how clouded his judgment becomes under the fugue of sexual attraction. It was bad when Klaasje used Harry’s obvious attraction to her to manipulate him but somehow this felt worse. 

It’s different when it’s a woman, Kim can’t compete with that. If Harry can love a man why not him? 

Kim groans, he wants to slap himself. It’s not a competition, he isn’t competing for Harry’s attention. 

Again he reaches for his notebook. He wants to get this jumble of thoughts out of his head. He wants to write everything down and burn the pieces. 

He knows he shouldn’t like Harry like that, he shouldn’t want Harry. Harry doesn’t see him like that. 

They are coworkers, partners, and friends. They’ve saved each other, again and again. Kim shouldn’t want anything else, anything more. It would make work complicated. 

One cigarette might not be enough today. 

Kim tilts his head up and looks at the sky. The city lights drown out all but the brightest stars.

It’s hard not to find Harry loveable. For all of Harry’s tragedy and dysfunction, when he says something deeply insightful and intelligent he leaves Kim in awe. When Harry’s eyes are full of joy as he exposits about some newly acquired niche fact, when he glances at Kim for approval and reassurance, and when he looks so pleased to make Kim laugh, when he looks at Kim like he hung the stars in the sky, Kim feels his resolution crumble. 

Sometimes Kim catches a heated look in Harry’s eyes, a predatory hunger that borders on longing, Kim wonders if–hopes maybe Harry too desires him. 

But Kim can’t be certain. He can’t trust his eyes, or his judgement clouded by desire. He can’t ever risk being wrong about this. 

If tonight was any lonely sleepless Saturday night, Kim would be in the safety of his bed spinning inane fantasies, where Harry, unable to contain his desire pushes Kim against a wall, or on the hood of his kineema and kisses him. Harry’s kisses are terrible at first; wild and messy. 

He’d tear off Kim’s orange pilot’s jacket and push his hand under Kim’s white t-shirt. Kim takes off whatever mismatched outfit Harry is wearing, ripping seams and buttons in the process. Harry growls Kim’s name in his low gravelly voice and leaves bite marks and bruises on his wake as he trails kisses down Kim’s body. Kim knots his fingers in Harry’s hair as Harry takes him into his mouth. He'll lick the tip and stroke the rest with his hand too intimidated to take Kim down his throat. 

Kim will guide him and praise him and Harry will do his best to please Kim. 

Kim sighs out a lung full of smoke, again grateful to be alone. 

Then, as if his thoughts manifested it, Harry burst out through the doors.

Unconsciously, Kim licks his lips when he sees Harry, the wisps of his fantasies still lingering in his mind. 

“Kim, he’s here!”

“Who?” Kim takes another drag from his cigarette, barely paying attention to Harry’s words. He watches Harry’s lips, the way his throat bobs as he swallows. Kim wants to reach out and touch his face, feel the roughness of his beard between his fingers, making out the crooked shape of his jaw beneath. Harry is more handsome each time Kim sees him. Kim wills himself to look away.  

“Who else!” Harry whispers-shouts at him. “The suspect. Red hair and a tattoo on his arm, exactly like the witness said.”

The suspect, of course. Kim half hoped he wouldn't appear tonight but it is good. They are here for a case, not to flirt and fantasies. 

“Alright,” Kim says. His dark jeans are tight and unforgiving, constricting his half hard cock. He straightens his posture in hope of some relief without making Harry suspicious. “What do you suggest we do?” 

“We should go talk to him.”

Kim taps his cigarette to shake off the ash. 

“That’ll be risky, we might scare him off. We should just watch him for now.”

“But he is here! Now!”

“We can’t be 100% certain it is him. The witness didn’t give his name, just a vague description. We need to confirm he knows the victim and was with him last night.”

“We can do that by asking him,” says Harry. 

Kim narrows his eyes. “No, not you. I’ll do it.” 

“What?”

“Your interrogation techniques are effective but we can’t let him know we are interrogating him. I’ll talk to him, you’ll scare him off.” Kim admires Harry’s wild, throw anything against the wall until something sticks method but it has a high chance of scaring people or pissing them off. Neither option they can risk tonight. They need the name of the suspect at the very least, ideally confirmation that he knew the victim and met him last night. 

“I wouldn’t,” Harry insists, furrowing his brow. 

“Yes, you would,” Kim says firmly. “I’ll go now, wait a few minutes before coming out.” 

God, Kim wants to kiss him. He wonders if Harry would be shocked or pleased. If Kim slips in his tongue would Harry suck on it?

Kim walks up to Harry and places his half-smoked cigarette between his lips. 

Harry’s eyes widen as he searches Kim’s face, bewildered, trying to figure out what he's thinking. But he accepts the cigarette in place of Kim’s tongue, taking a deep inhale of the cigarette. 

“Finish this for me alright?” Kim says. 

Harry nods dumbly. Kim itches to kiss Harry now, to breathe in the smoke from Harry’s lungs. Harry staggers back and leans on the brick wall for support. 

Kim goes back into the club before he does something he shouldn’t.

Close up on their faces incase Tumblr chews up the quality again 😭

#disco elysium #digital art #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #de #kimharry #harrier du bois #de fanfic

[sxcret-garden]

2nd Desire ღ Tie Me Down [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ feat.: Yeosang ღ words: ~5.1k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, reader masturbating and asking to be punished for it, reader’s hands tied together, he’s a bit mean but goes soft dom when reader shows signs of discomfort, strength kink, fingering, some body worship, teasing, begging, unprotected sex) ღ warnings: (him running his hand through reader’s hair)

Desc.: Lost in your excitement over the recent development in your relationship with your boyfriend Jongho, you try to tickle more of his dominant side out of him. When he shuts down that attempt with only the best of intentions, he makes sure you won’t stay flustered by your miscalculation for long.

Author's note: chapter 2 and I'm STILL nervous about posting kasjdfölksa I hope you guys enjoy though~ alsoalso I decided to do a taglist for this fic, so if you want to be added, just drop me an ask about it <3

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You drop your bag beside the entrance as you walk into Jongho’s apartment, the little melody resounding when the door falls into its lock that’s usually just another background noise to you manages to annoy you on this day. It’s only half past 4, yet you feel like you’ve been awake for more than 20 hours. 

You slip out of your shoes and step inside, the sofa in the living room being your destination. With a groan you let your body flop down onto it, the cushioned surface softening the impact. You’ve been at university since morning, your first class of the day being quite an interesting one and almost making you forget about the dreadful events that would follow suit. For lunch you met up with other students from your major to work on your group project, and these people really remind you time and time again why you absolutely hate group projects. You’re a group of seven, yet somehow the only ones taking the whole thing seriously are you and Yeosang, a guy you’ve done a course with before and who you luckily ended up being in the same group with. You know from back then that he does his work diligently enough - what you didn’t know was how badly the other five would do. One of them ran late, claiming he was convinced the meeting would start at 2 and not at half past 1, one of them didn’t show up at all, the others half-assed their parts and one girl only did half of what she was supposed to do. It’s a mess, and it’s stressing you out, because you’re getting a shared group grade for the paper. If you were being graded individually, you would’ve already decided to just do well on your own part, and make sure to precisely document who worked how much, but since you can’t exactly do that here it eventually came to the point where you decided it would be better if you took over the lead. As the person who has assigned herself the role of scolding the others into doing their work properly, you didn’t exactly gain their sympathy, but thankfully Yeosang was right there to have your back. Sharing their disdain was still better than having to shoulder it all alone, so you made a mental note to thank him with a cup of coffee or a meal later on.

But for now you want nothing more than to get this stupid project out of your mind, and lying motionlessly on the sofa and staring at a wall without any kind of distraction from your angry thoughts running wild isn’t exactly the best way to go about that. So you get up with a heavy sigh, peeking into your boyfriend’s room through the gap in the door standing ajar, before walking inside. He isn’t home yet - you assume he must be on his way, because his last class of the day should’ve ended about 10 minutes ago. Walking over to his closet, you open the side where he made space for some of your clothes, and you grab some comfortable pants and a t-shirt you haven’t worn in a while. There’s the logo of a game printed at the front - coincidentally a game you both used to play when you were still in school, and one of the topics you bonded over as you were slowly becoming closer.

You trod over to the bathroom, figuring you should take a shower in an attempt to clear your mind first of all - maybe you could magically find a way to wash off all the frustration the day has drenched you in. Either way, at least the warm water raining down on your skin has a calming effect on you, and so for a few minutes you merely stand there, doing nothing. You reach for the soap eventually, and as you’re cleaning yourself your thoughts slowly drift elsewhere.

Until you remember the conversation you had with Jongho about establishing a different kind of dynamic between you two. Your fingers dance up your body to your throat, and padding them onto your pulse reminds you of what it felt like to have his hand in this position instead. The thoughts of the project are quickly forgotten, yet your cells have not quite let go of the frustration yet - but that’s nothing a quick orgasm couldn’t take care of, right?

So you let your hands wander, allowing them to map out your own body wherever instinct leads them, and as your fingers find your core, you let out a long sigh. This feels like just what you need right now, so you don’t hold back, beginning to draw circles onto your sensitive bud. Feeling your limbs relax from the sensation, you lean your back against the wall, and eventually you reach out for the shower head, changing the setting to the highest pressure and letting it do the work for you.

You don’t think of much at all, simply enjoying the pleasure coursing through your body, until you can sense yourself coming closer to the edge, and you buck your hips up against the water jet.

“Fuck…” you whimper, as a scenario crosses your mind. “What if he finds out…” You gulp at the thought of Jongho figuring out you got off without him, in his apartment, and your mind begins to wander as you fantasize about all the ways in which he might punish you for it. Another curse escapes you through gritted teeth, and soon you feel your high crashing down on you, walls clenching around nothing as his name falls from your lips.

You step out of the shower feeling refreshed, purposely not changing back the setting of the shower head. You want him to catch you, want to know about all the things he would do to you that you haven’t seen him do before. Slipping into fresh clothes and wrapping a towel around your head to let your hair dry a bit before finishing the process with a blow dryer, you grin to yourself and you walk out into the living room. 

Your boyfriend comes home about half an hour later, just as you’re putting the blow dryer back to its original place in one of the cabinets in his bathroom. You suppress the excited grin that just won’t leave your lips, and instead greet him as per usual.

“You’re late,” you remark as you catch sight of the time displayed on your phone screen.

“Yeah, the subway was crowded. Should’ve taken the bus,” he mutters as he walks up to you, his hand patting your head in a gesture that’s supposed to say “I’m home.”

“Right, it’s starting to get bad at this time,” you continue your small talk.

“How did your meet-up go?”

“Don’t ask…” you brush it off quickly, hoping to ward off the stress creeping up to you again upon him mentioning it.

“That bad?” Jongho asks as he lets out a short laugh while he furrows his eyebrows, telling you he feels at least a little sorry for you.

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes. “And you? How was your day?”

“Don’t ask,” he answers, and now you’re the one chuckling. “I’ll go wash up real quick, and I think I’ll need some time to decompress afterwards.”

“Sure,” you mutter, before reaching up from where you’ve made yourself comfortable on the edge of the sofa, hand snaking behind his neck so you could pull him in for a quick peck on the lips. 

And so he disappears in the bathroom, you hear him turning on the water and you hear him turning it off again after a while, and with every passing second, the excitement for what’s to come is only growing. Except when he’s done, he simply informs you he’s going to game for a bit, and then he walks into his room. You’re confused to say the least, and a bit disappointed as well. This is not going according to the plan you had in mind, and you wonder if it’s just because he’s had a bad day or if maybe he just isn’t in the mood today. Trying to brush it off, you grab a book you started a while ago, staying out in the living room as you attempt to read a chapter or two, but somehow your mind just won’t let you focus on the story unfolding on the pages in front of you. So eventually you get up, deciding to sneakily follow him instead - you’re not sure why you’re being so secretive all of a sudden.

Your boyfriend is certainly good at reading the room, and it’s helped you leave behind your own awkwardness more than once. So today as well you decide to simply sit at the edge of his bed and watch him play his game, hoping for him to notice something’s off as you’re trying to find the right words to say. And without doubt, he doesn’t disappoint.

“What’s with you?” he asks in between rounds, his voice soft in contrast to the serious stance he tends to take on while playing his games. 

“Just…” you’re not sure how to start, how much to hint at what you want - you sure as hell aren’t thinking of just saying it straightforwardly, now that you’re beginning to feel a bit embarrassed about it.

“Hmm?” He drags out the sound a bit, then the image on his screen changes, and he adds, “Let me finish this and then we can talk?”

“Alright.” You’re suddenly more anxious than you would’ve expected yourself to be as you watch, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt the entire time. The time spent waiting for him to turn his attention to you feels like half an eternity, even though once he’s done you’re sure it can’t have been more than five minutes. He exits the game to the main menu, and as he takes off his headset, he turns to you in his chair.

“What is it?” You see worry on his face, and you immediately feel the need to let him know it’s nothing serious, really.

“Nothing bad!” you say. 

“That’s good,” Jongho answers, relief behind his words.

“Just… didn’t you… notice anything?” You rub your legs together as you avert your gaze from him, but even in the corner of your eye you can tell he’s thinking hard about your question now.

“Notice anything?” he repeats, and then suddenly his eyes narrow, and there’s an amused smile about to creep onto his lips. “Like what?” At this point you’d have sworn you could see the exact moment the dots connected in his head, so his question throws you off a little.

“Like… uhm… I showered earlier.”

“Good,” he chuckles, and you press yourself on to continue.

“And uh…. maybe got off…”

“Oh. That’s nice,” he replies, and once again you’re thrown off, this time by the way the tension in the room drops right away, and he’s now showing you a genuine smile. “Why are you telling me about that though? Want me to come watch next time?” He tries to throw in a joke, but the confusion radiating off you makes him think again, and well, now you’re sure he understands what you’re trying to get at, because he raises up his chin just a little, giving you that look that’s supposed to say “I found you out.”

“Were you maybe thinking I would punish you for that?” he assumes correctly, and you nod, heat rushing to your face now. 

“Yes…” Jongho laughs. It’s more of a giggle, actually, and the amusement in his expression only adds to your confusion. And then he becomes serious, though his features keep their softness.

“Look… I’m sorry to disappoint you but… I’m not going to do anything we haven’t discussed beforehand,” he explains, making sure to be clear about his thoughts. “My first impulse isn’t to punish you for masturbating. But if you want me to, we can talk about it.”

“O-okay,” you stammer, and once again there’s this endearing smile on his face, spreading from ear to ear. You know it’s meant to reassure you, but right now all you can focus on is the embarrassment burning in your chest from making such a severe miscalculation. This isn’t how things go in real life, of course it isn’t. You should know that, and yet-

“Hey,” he calls out to you, hand reaching for yours, giving you a squeeze to tear you out of your thoughts. “Let’s talk about it.” 

He’s also good at that - saying the right thing at the right moment. Or at least he tends to say the things you need to hear in moments like this, and once again you feel unmistakably that you’re safe with him, and that you’re in this together.

“Okay.”

“So…” letting go of your hand, he leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and you feel the dynamic shift ever so slightly as he won’t divert his eyes from you. “What kind of punishment were you thinking of?” You raise your eyebrows, and you begin to ponder on his question, but somehow your head is suddenly empty.

“I… don’t know…” you admit, and he grins at your words again.

“You didn’t think about what you want me to do to you now?”

“I mean… I did… but more… in a general sense,” you stammer.

“Like what?”

“Like… you fucking me…” And there it is again, that laugh that’s really more of a giggle than an actual laugh.

“You didn’t think about what comes before that?”

“Not… really?” you admit, and he clears his throat.

“Then how about I tell you what came to mind for me, and you tell me if that sounds okay to you?” You nod okay, and he continues, “So what I was thinking is that I could restrict you in some way… putting you in handcuffs maybe, or blindfolding you.”

“I don’t think I’m okay with the blindfolding,” you respond. “Handcuffs sounds… nice though.” 

“See? This is just why I didn’t want us to rush into this,” your partner says. “Because if we move too fast, misconceptions about what the other wants, or just about how this whole thing works are bound to go unnoticed.”

“You’re right,” you agree, being able to see where you went wrong with your assumptions clear as day now. “Then… let’s take it slow. Talk before we do stuff.” An awkward laugh escapes you as you’re speaking those words, because after all you were the one trying to rush into this, and now you can’t help but feel thankful that he stopped you just in time.

“So…” Jongho gets up from his chair, walking over to his closet and rummaging through one of the shelves, pulling out a dark red tie. “I think this is gonna look pretty on you. That okay?” You nod, merely watching as he walks over to you, and when he tells you to take off your clothes first of all, you don’t hesitate. Placing yourself on top of the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, he sits in front of you, and you hold out your hands for him to tie them together. “Not too tight?”

“No, it’s fine,” you answer, the soft texture of the fabric feeling quite good around your wrists, actually.

“I don’t have actual handcuffs, unfortunately…” he explains as he checks the knot one more time, and then he lifts one of his hands to run his fingers through your hair, eyeing you thoroughly. There’s a serious expression on his face now, he’s concentrated as he lets his fingertips brush against the side of your throat, but the way he allows for a smirk to creep onto his lips when you instinctively lean your head back to give him access tells you he’s very much having fun with this.

“You really like that, huh?” he mutters, wrapping his hand loosely around your throat, the warmth of his touch alone causing your heart to beat faster.

“Yeah…” you mouth, and to your disdain he moves on. His fingers draw imaginary trails down your body, moving slowly and deliberately, and his eyes follow their every move.

“So beautiful… too bad I’m gonna have to wreck you.” He speaks silently, and whether it’s because of the tone in his voice or his words you don’t know, but it’s giving you shivers all over and you gulp. His hand eventually finds its way to your side, snuggly fitting into the space between your waist and your arm, and he leans in to brush his lips against yours. It’s a short kiss, yet he lingers there for a few seconds before pulling back merely a few inches - the kind of kiss that’s meant to make you want more. “Want me to punish you, hm? Then, what if I push you a bit? Be a little less nice than usual and not give you everything you want right away.” You suck in a sharp breath at his words. “You’d like that?”

“Y-yeah,” you say, tension building up. You’re not sure what exactly he has planned, but you know he wouldn’t push you too far… right? He wraps the fingers of his free hand around your wrists, and as he brings them up above your head he pushes you back into the mattress, carefully, gently. And yet you don’t miss the dangerous glint in his eyes as he’s now gazing down on you, hovering above you as he pins you against the bed. Lowering his head, he makes you mewl as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he scatters a few nips here and there.

“What’s your color, dear?”

“Green… very green,” you sigh, feeling his weight on top of your chest. 

“That’s good,” he speaks quietly as he comes back up, his face now being right in front of you and the tips of your noses touching for one short moment. You think he’s going to kiss you, but then he sits up instead, letting go of you to rid himself of his shirt. With every movement of his you can see the outlines of his muscles working underneath the skin, and the urge to touch him, to run your nails down his chest and his stomach, makes you bring your hands up. For a moment you forget that they’re tied together, and you frown at the restraint, and before you can do anything more, your boyfriend is quick to click his tongue at you as he reaches for your hands and pins them back down above your head.

“Wanna touch me so bad, hm?” he assumes correctly, and then he adds, moving closer to your ear, whispering sharply, “No touching unless I allow it.”

“O-okay,” you mutter. You can unmistakably feel the power he has over you now, both in the way you don’t have the strength to free yourself from his physical restraint, and in the way you feel yourself immediately submitting to his verbal restraint. 

“Stay like this,” he then says and you nod as he sits back up. This time he lets his palms run down your upper body once as he kneels on top of you, going over to dragging his nails down your skin once he reaches your hips and doing the exact thing you would’ve craved to do to him. But you obey, waiting patiently for his next move. “So pretty…” he mutters, his intense gaze burning on your skin, and after having his hands wandering all the way back up, he leans in to leave a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. And again there’s this urge to move your hands, to throw your arms around his shoulders as his lips are mapping out your features, but you can’t. You shouldn’t, and so you resist.

He kisses his way down your stomach, biting your flesh here and there without applying too much pressure, and the way he’s taking his time with it doesn’t help your case as you’re having an internal battle against your own impatience. Rubbing your thighs together as he’s hovering just above your core and he’s touching you everywhere but where you need him the most, you reach your breaking point.

“Jongho…” you call out his name. “Please.” He merely chuckles at your plea, not even looking up at you now.

“What?” His voice is low, quiet. Calmness radiates off of him, like he knows that he has all the time in the world for this.

“T-touch me please…” you mewl.

“Hmm,” he makes a noise as he appears to be thinking about your request. “But do you deserve that?” You let out a whine at his question, and you frown when he crawls all the way back up, only to press a teasing kiss to your lips. “Do you deserve my touch when clearly you decided that you can also just do the job yourself?” He moves up further, his lips brushing against your wrists just below where he tied them together, and then against the knuckles on your fingers. “Can’t get yourself off now, can you?” He places his hand over yours, pushing your wrists into the fluffy blanket as if to put an emphasis on his words. 

“Please…” you start another attempt at getting him to do what you want, but he merely sends you a smirk. 

“You’re choosing the shower head over me and now you think I’ll give you what you want so easily? That’s naive.” You frown, and you pout up at him, and for a second his features soften, before he moves his hand from your wrists to your chin, tilting it up slightly. Then he places a kiss onto your jaw, and he asks, “Color?”

“Green…” You idiot - you add in your mind, and when he comes back up to get a good look at your face, you can undeniably see the amusement on his face.

“Didn’t think you’d like being treated like this so much,” Jongho comments, and then he lets his hand wander from your chin down to your lower stomach. “Really makes me want to do this all day.” Fuck. You gulp at his words, thighs pressing together just as he slips a finger in between, dragging it up your folds once, and you don’t expect a singular touch to affect you this much, but you find yourself arching your back as you moan in response anyway.

“Relax,” he says, tapping your thigh once, and you do, spreading your legs apart just a little to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate to make use of that, watching for even the tiniest of reactions as he gathers your juices on his fingertip, moving it back up and making you whimper as he begins drawing circles onto your clit. You buck your hips into his hand once, causing him to sit up so he could use his other hand to press them back down, immobilizing you. “So needy…” he breathes as he continues on, watching you, and granting you a few teasing touches to your wet pussy. He slips a finger inside, drawing another moan from your lips, and when he adds a second one, pumping them in and out of you at an unhurried pace, you think you could cum on the spot. And he notices the way he’s affecting you, because now he asks you with a cocky smirk on his face that bodes no good whatsoever,

“You like that?” You nod, whimpering, and when he pulls out, the feeling of deprivation that overcomes you makes you whine with anger - though you don’t sound nearly as angry as you would’ve liked. “Too bad.”

“Keep going, please…!” you try to beg, and it seems to strike something deep within him, because now he raises his eyebrows at you, listening intently.

“What was that?”

“K-keep going… please… please…” you add, the desperation in your voice being obvious. “Don’t stop now… w-wanna cum on your fingers…”

“I’m sure you do, dear,” he whispers, leaning in to place a soothing kiss onto your tummy, but it just makes you more furious.

“Please!” you cry out, balancing on the edge between pleasure and frustration, and you know that you wouldn’t want him to push you any further. For a second you wonder whether you should tell him, ask him to go easier on you even though you were the one who wanted him to punish you so badly. But he seems to notice your inner conflict, and his smirk softens into a benevolent smile as he brushes his lips against the inside of your thigh now.

“Is that where the line is?” he asks, and you hesitantly nod. He comes up to comb his fingers through your hair, brushing away a strand that’s sticking to your forehead. “Then let’s not take it any further than this, okay?”

“Yeah.” He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing against your lips, and he questions,

“What do you want me to do, love?”

“Fuck me… please…” you say with furrowed brows, and he chuckles at the sight in front of him. Caressing your cheek as he slowly takes his hand away in order to rid himself of the remainder of his clothes, he retorts,

“I can’t believe someone could say something so dirty with such an innocent expression on their face.” And now that you’re becoming aware of what you must look like right now, you find it funny too, and you let out a short laugh.

Your boyfriend places himself on top of you, one hand wrapping around his length in order to give himself a few strokes until he’s fully hard, while he has the other placed next to your head to support his weight on top of it. “Wanna hold onto me? Or…” You shake your head. “Want me to pin you down?” Adrenaline rushes through your veins, making you tingle all over from the thought of it, and you nod. Again, he seems amused by your reaction. “After all that you still want me to manhandle you, huh?” Him saying it out loud fills you with bashfulness all of a sudden, and still you feel the need to confirm that he’s right.

“Yes… please,” you mutter. He positions himself in between your legs, aligning himself with your core.

“You good?” he asks, and when you give him the okay he pushes into you. 

“Fuck…” The feeling of having him finally filling you up makes you hiss a curse as you’re throwing your head back from the overwhelming satisfaction. Jongho reaches for your wrists, pinning you down just like you had asked, and he leans in, his nose brushing against the skin right in front of your ear.

“Can you do me a favour, then?”

“Wh-what?” you stutter, impatience building up inside you again.

“I want to hear you beg for me again… can you do that?” You whine as he rolls his hips into yours once, and without hesitation you grant his wish.

“Please… please fuck me…”

“Mhm… that’s right…” he mutters, and from the way his voice changes as he begins slowly thrusting into you, you can tell he too has been exerting himself holding back from touching you properly more than you thought. 

“Please… feels so good… b-baby please…” you keep going, your moans turning into mere whimpers when he reaches down between your bodies in order to tend to your clit. “F-fuck… w-wanna cum on your cock… wanna cum so bad…!” you whine, racing towards your high at lightning speed. 

“Shit, you’re perfect,” he utters, his hips beginning to stutter, and the groans falling from his lips becoming more frequent. “So fucking perfect.”

You cry out when your high comes crashing down on you, hands formed into fists and your nails digging into your palms. Once again you try to instinctively throw your arms around your boyfriend’s shoulders, and when you meet resistance as he’s still pinning you against the bed, your mind is flooded with that much more pleasure. He cums with a broken moan as you’re beginning to come down from your high, whining from the overstimulation as you let him thrust into you a few more times, and then he collapses on top of you.

Both panting, he lets go of your wrists and you immediately bring your arms up to put them around his frame, and this time he lets you. Eventually, after catching his breath, he rolls over onto his back, sitting up and undoing your restraints.

“You feeling okay?” You nod at his question, your eyelids too heavy to open, but you smile at him.

“More than,” you mutter, and when he lies back down beside you, you snuggle up close to him. Reaching for your hands, he holds onto one of them, thumb rubbing circles against your wrist, and when you look up you find worry in his eyes. “I really am okay, baby,” you whisper one more time, and he instinctively brings your hand that he’s holding onto in closer to his chest.

“Okay…” he just says, trusting your words, and you send him a sweet smile. Freeing your hand from his grasp, you bring it up to his head, fingers combing through his hair.

“Thank you…” you say, slurring your words a bit as the blissful afterglow of your high lingers in your mind. Your boyfriend lets out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation of you massaging his scalp. “For being careful. And for taking care of me so well.” And now there’s this smile creeping onto his lips. It’s barely noticeable, and yet you can tell how your words are affecting him. And in the next second he throws his arm around you, catching you by surprise as he pulls you on top of himself and engulfs you in a tight hug. He says nothing, you know that sometimes it’s hard for him to speak his mind in moments like these, but by now you know him well enough to know what he’s trying to convey with his actions. You giggle at the way he presses a kiss to the side of your face before having you rest your head atop his chest, loosening his embrace a bit to allow you to lie down comfortably. You too snake one arm around his waist, and with your heart swelling with your love for him that seems to know no end, you bury your smile in the crook of his neck.

#ateez smut #jongho smut #ateez x reader #ateez x fem reader #ateez fanfic #ateez series #ateez scenarios #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #jongho imagines #jongho x reader #smut

[nothing-tolose]

Foolish One.

warning: reader being so dumb bcs she always ignores every signs and dreaming too much <3

if you have criticism and suggestions to me, you can just knock my dm or send it to inbox <3

a/n: this whole fic was messed up like REALLY REALLY MESSED UP please bear w me ;) have fun anw

wc: 6K

daily click

Cards are on the table. It's way past midnight, yet the living room is bathed in light, and laughs from your friends all over the room. Here you are, having a sleepover for four nights with your friends and now playing UNO cards with them. None of you all can sleep, that's why now you were sitting on the dining chair, with three cards on your hand.

"Ellie! It's your turn!"

You glanced at Ellie, who was sitting across the table, as Sophie called out her name. God, you couldn't help yourself but screaming inside your heart as you saw her smile on her face. Those freckles on her face, green emerald eyes, and the scar on her eyebrow, she literally got your attention.

You knew that you were already fell in love with her, ever since you saw her on Aimee's instagram story 3 months ago. Head over heels even. But one thing you can't help it from yourself everytime you fall in love, you were too afraid to reach her out. Of course, your friends giving you a lot of advice so you wouldn't be afraid to start a conversation with Ellie. You already tried on their advice, such as texting her through direct messagw but always ended up you delete it before you could even send the text.

So many negative thoughts when you tried to reach her. What if she doesn't like me? What if she call me a freak? What if she hates me? A countless what-ifs lives rent free on your mind. And it explains why you weren't close enough with Ellie, you were too afraid and too shy to start a conversation.

You knew all about her from your friends. They'd tell you what's her interest, what she likes and hates, what she afraid of, and so much more. You do realize that you can't just got her news only from your friends, so you've been following her instagram account by your not really a suspicious fake account named @/16candlesf00l. Thank God her account isn't a private account, and thank God she didn't block your account!

You've also been following her TikTok with another fake account since she was pretty famous there with around 8,000 followers she has, and that makes you can easily leave comments on every video she posts without worried about she's going to confused, you usually leaving comments like, "Oh, you're really pretty!" and other flirty remarks. Then one day, you comment, "Did you cut your hair?" and she responds with just "Yeah." Despite her brief reply, you respond enthusiastically with "Should we get married?"

A single word, 'Yeah,' had already sent you into an hour of rolling on your bed, giggling, and playfully kicking your feet against the pillows.

She didn't reply to your comment after that, and you didn't mind. At least there was a bit of interaction with you, right?

"Hey!"

Snapped back to the reality by Cassandra's tap on your shoulder, she leaned in and whispered to you, "Girl, I know you're head over heels for Ellie, but how long are you going to just stare at her, huh?"

"What-" You cast a quick glance at Ellie, unable to believe what Cassandra had just said. Yet there she was, looking back at you with that slight smile on her lips, her fingers idly playing with the cards in her hand. It was clear she had been watching you for at least a minute or two.

You quickly turned your head left and right, let out an awkward chuckle to Cassandra. Oh really, you lost your words.

"Uh- Cass- I.. Uhm, what color-" You stuttered, you started feel like this situation was fucking embarrassing especially when Ellie still looking at you, not moving even for a second. Cassandra and the others waiting you pull out your cards.

And for God's sake, you really wanted to hide yourself in a closet right now.

"Hey, why did you stuttered? It's blue, go pull out your card, babe!" Cass slapped your back (not in verbally way obviously. Immediately you pulled out your card, you didn't see the number first but the color.

You saw Ellie suddenly get up from her chair, she handed her cards to Chloe who's already won the game first, "Chloe, can you play my cards for me? Em—" she stopped, clearing her throat before she continued, "I have an emergency, I'll be back later,"

Chloe just nodded without giving her a glance, hands taking the cards. Meanwhile your eyes were never leaving her gesture leaving the dining room to backyard porch.

3 hours passed after the moment where you got caught by your friends for staring at Ellie for too long. Everyone was asleep, except you. It was really really boring because you're being the only one who can't sleep, meanwhile everyone is drowning in their own sweet dream.

The silence in Sophie's bedroom was so quiet that the ticking of the clock feels so loud here. You get up from the bed really slow and careful as you didn't want  to disturb Cassandra's sleep, as she was a light sleeper. As you made my way out of the bedroom, you cast anxious glances at Cassandra, concerned that the door might creak loudly upon opening.

You turned your heels towards the backyard porch, then leaning your back against the fence. Your hands grabbed a cigarette and lighter from your pocket. As you took a drag, you sighed, your mind replaying the moment from two hours earlier. After revealing your cards, Ellie had turn aside her gaze, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that she was stealing glances at you every few minutes.

Okay, maybe you're really delusional.

"I thought I'm the only one who couldn't sleep?"

You fixed your position and looking around to find where the voice came from, an that's when you spotted Ellie from the house, pulling on her gray hoodie as she stepped to you. Did she just talking to you? Like, for the first time ever?

Jesus, 'No fucking way,'

You chuckled, "I guess my eyes weren't in the mood for sleep," you said. She joined you, resting her arms on the railing right beside you. "So," you said as you turned and tossed the cigarette into the trash bin below the porch, "What keeps you awake from sleeping? I mean, it's three in the morning and everyone else is asleep except us."

"I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders, and you tilted your head, "You don't know?"

"Yeah, I just… I don't even know what I'm doing before I realize it's already 3 AM. I guess I was thinking about something, getting lost in it, and then I forgot it once I realized I'm still awake," As she spoke, her smile broadened and she turned her head towards you, her gaze firmly fixed on yours.

You nodded in response. You couldn't look at her directly for fear of blushing, even as you sensed her gaze from the corner of your eye. Deep down in your mind, you found it hard to believe what had just happened. The girl you had a crush on since three months ago, the girl you always adored from afar because you were too shy and afraid, the girl you've been flirted on her TikTok post comment section are the same girl who just talking to you a few seconds ago.

The atmosphere turned really awkward when neither of you continued the conversation. The only sounds were from the insects on the ground and the occasional car passing by on the street. You humming, for at least the situation wouldn't be too awkward if you do that.. maybe.

Ellie opened her mouth, "How did you met Sophie?"

"Hm?" you glance at her and gasped the next second, "Oh, Sophie! I thought you were speaking some words," you fall silent, hummed, and let out a little chuckle from your lips, "I've known her since the first year; she was my first friend at school before she introduced me to Aimee, Cassandra, and Chloe. We've gotten along ever since… until today. And.. what about you?"

"Sophie has been my friend since childhood, we were on the same school when I was 7, her dad was my father's fishing buddy for years and we were on the same neighborhood. Now she's more like my.. older sister," she stopped, before pull herself away from the railing, "But whenever I'm with her, it feels as though I'm speaking to an old woman who lives for a long time. She told everything to me, the dos and don'ts, and even offers five minutes of advice whenever she thinks I need it!"

You groans between your laugh, "Really? No way, she did the same thing to me all the time! She's truly the mom, isn't she? Oh, you know what? One day I was scammed by someone claiming to sell tickets for my favorite singer's tour. I ended up losing about 200 bucks, they blocked my numbers and didn't say anything! And she—"

"Wait, 200?!" Ellie interrupted, her tone a mix of surprise and shock. You nodded and chuckled as you saw her mouth fall open. "That's… quite a lot," she added.

"I know! Jeez, I was so dumb at that time, and Sophie was the first person I told, and she really scolded me for an entire day. She keeps bringing it up in the middle of any conversation, as if I didn't hear her the first time," you paused for a moment, taking a breath before continuing, "She even said things like 'I told you so, I damn well told you!', 'If only you had been patient, you wouldn't have been scammed', and 'With that money, you could've bought your precious expensive book,' ugh, I wasn't born for those words!" you imitated Sophie's voice, laughing lightly as you did.

You both laughed, the conversation continues as you both found a lot common in each other's interests when you mentioned your favorite comic book. You swore she's the sweetest when she's talking, eyes always locked on you, the funniest jokes she tossed, it all raises your hopes too high. Two hours flew by, until you started feeling sleepy and decided to head back to the bedroom, but when you were already laying down, the sleepy instantly gone.

You were talking to yourself in whispers before you asleep, mind keep thinking about Ellie and there was no any signs to stop thinking about her. So many wishful thoughts and imagines if you were dating her. Yet, no matter how long you could keeping her in your mind, there's always some voices showed up in your head and saying such things like;

'You really never learned from your past,'

'There's so many girls out there who maybe caught her attention,'

'It'd seem so sad if you're the only one who fell to her and she's not.'

'Aren't you afraid if she end up with someone who's not you like how the last time you fell in love?'

And you really hate those voices, trying to block them all out without giving a single damn to it. Instead, you tried to believe that things will work out with Ellie, unlike the last time when you fell for Robin—the girl who started dating someone else the day after you confessed your feelings to her.

No, you're not going to end up the same like that. Not now, not with Ellie.

"What if she confesses her feelings to me?" you mumbled, biting your lower lip as you began giggling and buried your face in the pillow, "God, I'm so fucking delusional!" although you said that, you couldn't stop for imagining if she were tell you about her feelings, going on a date to somewhere, chilling at her house or yours, and discussing about every novel you both likes.

It was so.. cute, you thought. However, you didn't realize that you were projecting those images as hopes onto yourself and it'd lead you to breaking down if you weren't aware.

You push the pillow away from your face, shifting into a side-lying position. A smile remains ever-present on your lips. You breathe in and out slowly, then closed your eyes, it's literally five in the morning and you haven't sleep.

"Have a good sleep, Ellie,"

Ugh, you did not.

Two months down the line. Returning home from Sophie's holiday house was quite late, a full day after everyone else had left. You had the option to ride with Cassandra or take up Ellie's offer, but you were waiting for your mom, who had promised to pick you up. She didn't show up for four hours, then she texted you that she would be a bit late, and you ended up waiting her until the next afternoon.

You've called her phone countless times, but she never answers. You can't turn to your dad for help either, as he's been in Greece for three months. And your brother? He would never waste his time just for drive ten hours from his place to Sophie's home and then take you to your apartment.

So, how did you managed to get home?

Ellie came back the next night after Sophie mentioned you to her. You were overwhelmed with guilt for having declined her offer to drive you home the day before, especially since she returned just to take you home, facing a five-hour drive. She knew you weren't really in a mood after waiting literally a night for your mom who texted you that she couldn't pick you up after you were already with Ellie. She knew that. That's why she made a stop at convenience store, bought a lot of foods and drinks before taking you to the closest beach for some relaxation.

You've been getting along with Ellie. Ever since the day she made sure you got home safely by driving you home, there hasn't been a day without texting, talking, and even meeting up with her. And indeed, for heaven's sake, she made you fall deeper for her, more than ever. The way she acts around you, the way she talked to you, the way she is paying her attention at you every time you tell her your story. She really keeps your hopes still high.

She always asks you to go out at least three or four nights a week, and you've never said no. After all, it's not a waste of time when the girl you have a crush on—the same one you always comment on her posts—is asking you out. Every time you went out with her, she was incredibly sweet, as if you were girlfriends. But sometimes, she'd leaving you too soon, she would be saying sorry because she had an emergency. And it wasn't just once. But you didn't mind at all since she still brought you out to any places.

Ellie would purchase everything for you; even when you babbled thoughtlessly, she would disappear for a bit and come back with an item you had mentioned in her hand. You have always warned her against purchasing such items without your consent-literally all the time, and although she agreed, she never heard your warning.

"I swear to God, Ellie. I just told you an hour ago to not buy me some things I babbled about!"

She smiled, "Oh.. really?" you scoffed, couldn't hide the smile from your lips, "You're smiling."

"Shut up, Williams!"

A couple weeks had gone by, you started to questioning yourself about what were you to her? Girlfriend? Or were you just trapped in situationship? The worse, you were only a friend to her. You couldn't find the answer. It seems like she might have the same feelings towards you. She made you flustered, made you felt like you were the luckiest person alive. On the other hand, she never mentioned what relationship you both are in right now. You couldn't even tell if you were deserve to feel hurt or not.

Despite everything, you know how to pretend you're fine when you're hurt, right..?

Now go back to the present, you found yourself resting your head on Ellie's shoulder, half-watching the netflix show on the TV. Instead of watching the show, you were busy on your own thoughts. Confused. Who are you to her? Just friends? Situationship? You knew it too well, it felt like you can call her as yours but in reality you were not.

"Everything's alright?" Ellie interrupted your thoughts as she spoke. You nodding your head in response, lied. And unfortunately you weren't good at hiding expressions. She can feel that you were far from alright.

"Are you sure?" she asked, paused the show. Then she pinched your cheeks, leaving you laughing and grabbing her wrists as you pleaded with her to stop, "You know, you can tell me if there's anything wrong. I'll help you," she added, her fingers stopped pinching your cheeks now.

You chuckled, "That's so nice of you, Williams. But trust me, nothing's wrong now."

You keep resting your head on her shoulder, your gaze wandering around her apartment. Three minutes later, you find yourself sinking back into your daydreams. About someday, when you both are older, these moments would be the things you always laugh about over the tea every morning while Ellie watching the news.

"It was so funny back then,"

"Yeah! Oh, remember when you drove me home but the you stopped at the beach!"

You huffed, realizing once more that it was all just a dream.

"Ellie," you called her name all of the sudden, with you playing with your fingers, "Yeah?"

"Do you ever... believe that if we were patient enough to wait someone we had a crush on, they'll coming to you?" you don't know, why the question was suddenly came out from your mouth.

She hummed at first, and laughed, "No.. I guess. Because, what if you were already waiting them patiently but apparently they weren't the one for you?"

You went silent, she tilted her head to you, "Why did you asked suddenly though? Did someone caught your attention for a while and you're waiting for them?" and you nods.

"Who?"

'It's you, dumbass.' you secretly rolled your eyes.

"I won't tell you," you sigh out, "I've been waiting them for these past 5 months, and for God's sake, she's too hard for me to reach!" you slammed your hands into your thighs, inviting her laugh.

"It's almost half of a year, and you still waiting?" you nods to her question, biting your lower lip and avoiding her gaze. You heard her letting out a heavy sigh, "What if they never come to you? As if their love were never gonna come either?"

You froze, losing all your words. Why was she asked you like she knew you were talking about her?

Thereafter her phone buzzed leading Ellie quickly flipped her phone like she doesn't want you to curious, "I'm going out for at least ten minutes, you don't mind?"

And who are you to said no and pleaded to stay here? You were her guest on her house, nothing more like that. In the end you answered okay, almost whispered.

You were spying her through the corner of your eye as she walked out onto the balcony and closed the door. You could see her from inside when she walked back and forth with a big grin on her face, occasionally laughing. You really wanted to know what was going on, what the conversation was about that made her laugh so freely. But you knew your boundaries; you weren't supposed to ask her personal questions.

At one time she talked too loud you could even hear it from where you sit, "You'll come back? You're kidding, right? I swear to God, Emma, I missed you so much!"

Wait, who's Emma?

Ellie looked so excited on conversation with someone she just called Emma. From what you've heard through friends, Ellie didn't have many friends, and they mentioned only Jesse, Dina, Aimee, Chloe, and Sophie when you first confessedyour feelings about Ellie to them. So.. who's Emma then?

What if she were Ellie's girlfriend? No, there's no fucking way. Five months ago your friends said she was single, so that.. can't be. You immediately get rid all your negative thoughts about the girl Ellie mentioned on her phone call.

Enough staring her too long and overthinking. You shrugged your shoulders, act like you didn't care at all, 'I shouldn't think about this.. No. Please, please, please, try to think how sweet Ellie when she's with me..'

You changed the show into the romance one, you cannot stop smiling, you dream up if those romance scenes you watched right now was you and Ellie. The thought from you think about when you were couldn't sleep at Sophie's holiday house came back, 'Will Ellie ever open up about her feelings for me?'

It was so dumb. Do you ever think like that? The answer is yes, but who cares?

Your phone buzzed, and as you glanced at the screen, a notification was displayed.

911 sophie

hiiiii babe let me tell u i'm at aimee's rn

You

helllooooo what r u doing w her?

911 sophie

aimee was about to inviting you to her house tonight, and the others too. but her phone was DEAD RN she's planning on making a whole fucking meal like.. for 6 people??!! anyway wya???? she told me to buy some foodstuff at supermarket but i'll be fucking bored if im alone since she cant go out she's too busy with her other food creation or idk whatever she called it sooooo do you want to accompany me say yes i'll pick you up RIGHT NOW

You chuckled as you saw her text. Aimee was definitely too focused on what's her doing right now. You could tell how bored Sophie was there.

You

does she invite ellie too? anw pick me up pleaseeee ms. torres;))) at ellie's house love u!

Your gaze went to Ellie's, seems like she already finished the call. It's been 4 hours since you got here, and maybe it's enough for today even though you haven't finished the show you're currently watching.

911 Sophie

yeah she invited ellie too why? huh you were at what??? ellie?? GIRL HOW

You

mmmm i'll tell u later ;p JUST PICK ME UP ALREADY

911 sophie

OH CMON okay i'll be there in 10 xo

You paused the TV show and rose from the couch, reaching for your sling bag on the floor. At the same time Ellie, had came back from the balcony, you could tell how good her mood is by her smile.

"Where are you going?" she asked, noticing that you had already slung your bag over your shoulder. She made her way over to you, her fingers were scratching her back neck.

"I… Uh… Sophie asked me to go out for buy some foodstuff.." you pointing your thumb to behind before falling silent for a moment. "Is… is it okay if I leave now?" you ask, feeling a wave of regret wash over you immediately after, cursing on yourself for even questioning why she wouldn't be okay with you leaving.

'God, I'm so weird!'

"Oh… Okay," Ellie glanced back before turning her head to stare at you, "I was about to leave as well. Where will she meet you? And maybe I can drive you—"

You cut her off, shaking your head, "Actually… she said she'll pick me up here in ten minutes." Ellie nodded in response, her mouth forming an 'O'. She made her steps into her bedroom after she smiled at you and came back with her wearing her green jacket.

Your other side was sooo curious. Where is she going? Why did she smile so happily after the call? And what made her so excited during the call earlier? Will she be with someone, or will she be alone? You don't know, and you want to know. You really want to know. Curiosity inside you feels like started to eat you up. You immediately shook your head, pushing away your curiosity. You started talking to yourself in a really low voice, as if you hadn't said anything, "I should stop doing that."

"Ellie, I…" you were staring at her as she hummed, her gaze was met yours, "I think I'm gonna wait on the front porch." You were about to make your way to the front door, but her hand grabbing your wrist stopped you. "Ellie?"

Your eyes locked on hers; her expression was different from a minute ago. It was... guilty? Sad? You couldn't even tell. What's going on now? Was this related to her call minutes ago?

"I just... want to say sorry,"

You tilted your head. Seriously, what's going on?

"So, did you mean she was saying sorry to you without explain everything?"

Now, you were in Aimee's kitchen with Sophie, picking up the conversation that had been put on hold hours earlier. Aimee was in her bathroom, and here it's only you and Sophie whereas the rest on the dining room. You did tell her everything what happened today, once you asked her who's Emma, but Sophie wasn't sure if she know that girl because Ellie never told her about Emma. You already asked Aimee too, and all she said was, "I think I've heard that name.. I don't know." they literally left you all disappointed.

"I was about to ask her why she was apologizing to me, but I couldn't because you came to pick me up," you said, rolling your eyes at Sophie, which was followed by laughter from both of you.

"Whoa, so it was my fault, young lady?" her tone was changed along with the tip of her lips moved down shaping like upside-down 'U', "Maybe she did something wrong and you didn't notice it. Don't take this seriously because I'm just trying to speculate."

You scoffed at Sophie, "I don't know, Sophie. As far as I remember, she didn't do anything wrong that would make me mad or upset," you said, turning your shoulders down and positioning the knife between the apple slices you had cut earlier.

"Try to ask later, babe. I'm pretty sure she'll tell you later," Sophie placed her hand on your shoulder, before she moved to your left side. You gave her a disagreement gesture, huffed so loudly, made her expression was changed in seconds.

"She haven't talk to me since she arrived here, Soph," head down as you resting your hands to the counter surface, "What?"

You huffed once again. Indeed, Ellie hadn't spoken to you or even glanced your way since she arrived. It was as if you had done something to pissed her off, but you hadn't. She didn't text or call you like she always did after you left her apartment, the last message was when you told her you were already at her house. You were too desperate to find an answer or even to asking her. She seemed like a different person, completely changed from when she last spoke to you hours ago.

You both went back to dining room, sitting right next to each other while Ellie was sitting in front of you. She didn't give you a single glance, as if you weren't there. It's not like what she did when the night at Sophie's holiday house back then. She checked her phone every 10 minutes like she's waiting something important.

Your eyes were never left her gestures during the dinner. Even when your friends tried to talk to you, you just answered them briefly because you weren't in the mood to talk. Twenty minutes later, Ellie excuses herself and leaves everyone else, including you. She takes her steps to the kitchen. You see her hiding her smile by biting her lip.

Does she even realize you're here?

"Is everything okay?" asked Chloe, sitting next to you. "You seem a bit off, and I noticed Ellie haven't been talking to you either. Is there something wrong between you two?" she moved her chair so she can move closer to you.

"We're fine," you claim, but it's not entirely true. You might be pretending, yet you're actually okay with Ellie since you've never argued before. Chloe grunts, sensing the dishonesty in your words.

"I know you're lying. C'mon, you can be honest with—"

You shake your head, you don't want this conversation to continue too far. Enough for tonight. "We're really fine, Chloe. Believe me."

Chloe nods, she's back to her position, "Okay then. But still, tell me—no, I mean, please tell us if something's wrong with you two, we can help."

You excused yourself to the bathroom, but Ellie's voice in the kitchen halted your steps. You never realized what are you doing in front of the bathroom door, until you found yourself leaning on the wall right next to the kitchen where you heard her voice. She sounded so happy, laughs between her words, saying jokes that she had already told you.

The ache in your heart was undeniable. Who could she be talking to on the phone? Emma, perhaps?

You bite your lower lip, your hands wiping away the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. You enter the bathroom and sit on the toilet, head bowed.

"Why does it hurt so much? I'm just her friend, right?"

Right, you had no right to be jealous or hurt when Ellie never thought about you being her girlfriend even though she treated you like one.

The next day, neither Ellie nor you started the conversation on messages like you two always did every morning. It felt so empty to you as you woke up and didn't find any signs of Ellie texting you.

You did your morning routine as usual without giggles and smiles. Everything went too quiet. You didn't mumbled or even talking to voice notes that you'e always sent to Ellie.

As night fell, time passed quietly. You didn't venture out, choosing instead to isolate yourself from the world, turned on the do not disturb mode on your phone even though Ellie hadn't sent any messages. The conversation remained where it was left off yesterday morning.

You couldn't resist the urge to text her, yet it all seemed no use when you deleted every word you were about to send.

You walked back and forth in your bedroom, hand holding the phone as your fingers scrolling through TikTok. None of the videos you watched, all you did was scroll and scroll, not really in a mood though but you were bored. Really bored.

Fingers stopped as you saw the profile picture, recognizing it too well, more than your own profile picture. It wasn't a video, but photos with a song called 'The Perfect Pair'. You knew who the figure in the photo was: auburn hair, sitting in the driver's seat, wearing the same jacket you saw yesterday, and the gray baseball cap she always wears.

Your eyes caught the other figure: long wavy ginger hair, sitting in the passenger seat, her hand holding the person you recognized before. God, your heart was beating faster than you could pant.

Slowly you sit on the floor, leaning onto your side bed.

You saw the caption, 'Soft launch' with some hashtag she always put in there. And the user she tagged, @/user3291emms.

That was the time you felt like something crashed your heart and broke into hundreds pieces. You know if you were too curious, you'll get the consequences. You opened the comment section, there was she commented on her own post, 'Welcome back to Boston, sweetheart.'

You feel like you're the most foolish girl who ever lived. Suddenly, you remember something that you had forgotten when you had a conversation face to face with Chloe.

"I heard from Dina, Ellie had been talking to someone for a while, the girl named Emma or something."

You didn't listen to Chloe that day because you were too busy adoring Ellie, who was playing her guitar far from you. You cursed yourself, mind repeating all those moments you always thought it meant nothing to you and her. All those moments became signs that Ellie wasn't the one.

The moment when she excused herself in the middle of UNO games, the moment when she always left too soon after she took you out, the moment when she was on the call on the balcony and she got too excited. The moment she was about to go, she was going to pick up Emma from the airport. And when she left the dinner party earlier than others, she was going on a date with Emma.

You were crying so hard, you put your phone right beside you while you buried your face between your arms.

"How could I not see the signs?" you spoke between your tears.

The voices in your head were right; you never learned anything from the past. Now, the voices were telling you why did you always ignore the signs. Because you were too busy loving someone, which led you to forget the worst-case scenario if they weren't loving you as you did to them.

Maybe you'll finally learn your lesson.

You sit there alone on the bench, at the park that Ellie always used to take you. Eyes never leaving two figures from afar, they seemed having fun on their own. Ellie hugging Emma tightly, giving her a lot of kisses while laughing at something. Thoughts of imagining if Emma were you came, which immediately you push away.

Ellie never texted you again or called you, or even talking to you, and you were trying to get used to it. Every single day, you tried to resist the urge to check the messages that had started to be abandoned.

You smiled slightly, you stood and picking up your bag, ready to leaving the park soon. Taking a small step into the exit.

You didn't know, Ellie noticed your existence right after she's done hugging Emma. Her eyes locked on your gestures, she didn't move even for an inch. As you get up from the bench, she did the same thing like she was about to take her step to you.

Oh, she did it anyway. Your wallet dropped without your knowledge. Ellie told Emma to wait for a minute and hurried over to you. She picked up your wallet and noticed the Polaroid of you and her from when she took you to the beach before. Something stirred in her chest as she wondered why you still held onto the Polaroid despite her having hurt you by avoiding you like a completely stranger.

"Hey, your wallet dropped," she tapped your shoulder twice, before you turned around.

You were surprised, Ellie was right standing in front of you. After all these months of being a stranger to each other, she showed up suddenly. You cleared your throat, took the wallet immediately, and put it in your bag. "Thanks," you said.

Everything went quiet again between you two, none of you were talking or leaving.

You felt like the goodbye was screaming in the silence. You seeing the visions of the past, maybe you just got her longing glances while Emma got her rings. You huffed, doesn't know if this was the last time you'd see her or not.

"Ellie," her smile disappeared as you called her name.

"Is it okay if I tell you that I still love you even though we haven't talk since Emma came to Boston? I'm sorry, Ellie. But I couldn't bear my feelings," you confessed to her, all those words just out from your mouth.

With furrowed eyebrows, she averted her gaze before fixing it on yours. "And would it be too late if I told you that I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for these past few months, even after avoiding you? God, I wish I could have told you sooner."

Your eyes widened. Just before you could say something, she left, leaving you all alone with her words lingering in your mind until God knows when.

a/n: i made this because i just found out that the girl that i had a crush on for months already have a girlfriend <3 (i've been crying nonstop) ANYWAY big thanks to taylor swift for the names <33333

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