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altruisticalastor · 3 months

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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Vox proposed a deal of sorts. Your soul in exchange for keeping you safe. At the time, you didn't feel like you had any choice other than to accept. So, you did. You pawned your freedom over to the man who hated your husband most in this world. What could go wrong?

☒ Warnings: gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, angst! established relationship between reader and alastor, lots of cursing and hard feelings, not a happy ending, vox has a strong attatchment to the reader, one kiss (between alastor and reader), lots of tears

☒ Word Count: 2,158

☒ Part Two Part Three

Ever since the day Alastor disappeared, life has been a living nightmare. Your lover left without a word. Which placed a gigantic target on your back as his spouse. You hoped that Alastor had a solid reason to go without telling you. But more than anything, you wished that wherever he was, he was safe.

It would be a miracle if trouble didn't find you. But there were no such things as miracles down in hell.

It didn't take long for Vox to find you. The surveillance cameras spread around the outskirts of hell were undoubtedly against you. You couldn't say you were surprised when being shoved into a van. Leading you directly to Vox Tec Headquarters.

Vox proposed a deal of sorts. Your soul in exchange for keeping you safe. At the time, you didn't feel like you had any choice other than to accept. So, you did. You pawned your freedom over to the man who hated your husband most in this world. What could go wrong?

Well, your new living situation was difficult to adjust to. The other Vee's were cutthroat and heartless. Trying your hardest to get along with them proved to be useless. They didn't care to know you in the slightest. Not Velvette nor Valentino. However, Vox was an entirely different story.

The man was uncharacteristically kind to you. Vox set you up with a private room specifically tailored for you. How he knew your favorite soaps and scents was beyond you. You figured it was best if you didn't know how exactly Vox came to know you like the back of his palm.

Vox always held a chipper tone with you. Going as far as disagreeing with the others to defend you when they spoke ill of you. You hardly understood why. What was his motive? A stranger's guess was as good as yours.

As the years flew by, his kindness only grew. Vox made sure to check up on you at least once a day. He took pride in remembering the little details about you. Going so far as to bring you gifts after his outings, 'Just because.'

As much as you hated to admit it, you began to let your guard down with Vox. You started to accept his kind gestures with a smile on your face. Agreeing to hang out in his office while he worked. It became almost comforting to be in his presence.

You hated yourself for it. You knew it was wrong. Alastor was your lover. But he also left you without a word, which caused a hint of resentment to grow within your heart. How could he drop you after everything? For a while, you hoped it was for a good reason. But seven years came and went, and not a single word from Alastor.

That was until you overheard a spat between Vox and Val. It was hard not to hear Vox's voice booming through the building. Your heart sunk into your stomach when you heard that your long-lost lover, Alastor, had been lodging up with the Princess of Hell for months now.

He's been back for months. Months, and he hasn't had any concern to look for you. It stung worse than any other pain you've ever felt in life and death. How dare he discard you like a piece of trash? The resentment only flourished further in your bleeding heart.

The moment Vox stormed out of Val's room after hearing the bad news, he was met with your teary-eyed countenance. His harsh glare softened the moment he saw your distressed state. In an instant, Vox surrounded your senses. His large palms rubbed your back in a comforting nature as he cooed at you. Vox whispered soft apologies into your hair as he allowed you to sob into his chest.

Your tears of sorrow quickly turned into tears of vexation. You begged Vox to get a car ready for you. You had to go to the Hazbin Hotel immediately. You just had to. It took lots of pleading to get Vox to agree. Your reminder of being on his leash eased his mind somewhat. Alastor may have owned your heart, but that was meaningless now that Vox proclaimed your soul.

The deal was no Vox Tech allowed on your person when you confronted Alastor. Vox grumbled in irritation from your stipulation, but he ultimately caved. It's not like you could flee from him even if you tried.

Your hands shook as your knuckles came up to bang on the hotel door. Within a matter of seconds, the door flung open. You were greeted by the Princess of Hell herself. She had seemingly mistaken you for a demon who wished to be redeemed. Your frustration grew as she pulled you into the foyer, babbling nonsense.

That's when a familiar voice rang through the open space. "Holy fuckin' shit. There's no way it's really you." Husk exclaimed before taking another swig of his cheap liquor. You immediately stormed toward the bar, ignoring the pretty fellow sitting on one of the stools. "Husk, where is he." Your voice was low and laced with malice.

Charlie was so confused as she asked how you two knew each other. As was the spider demon that asked you who you were talking about. That's when you heard it. The familiar radio static crackle, calling your name. Something in your heart ached at the sound of Alastor calling out to you. It once brought you so much joy, but all that was left now was bitterness.

"Uhh... how the fuck do they know, mister fancy talk creepy voice?" The effeminate fellow whispered over to Husk, who just shrugged him off. Not wanting to get involved in the slightest. You stormed over to Alastor, who stood at the base of the hotel steps. Before your mind could catch up, your body was quick to act.

Your hand came up to strike across Alastor's face. But to no one's surprise, he caught your wrist before your palm collided with his cheek. "Careful now, my dear! That's no way to greet your husband after all this time!" An audible gasp filled the room. You heard the little whispers from behind you. But all you could focus on was the rage that bubbled up inside you.

"You fucking asshole! How could you disappear without a word?" Your other hand balled into a fist before slamming against his sturdy chest. A small grunt escaped your husband from the harsh contact, but his crimson gaze never left yours. He slowly released your wrist, allowing you to beat your frustrations out on his chest until the adrenaline wore off. Quickly, that anger morphed into complete and utter sadness.

Your balled-up fists shook as your body slumped forward. Your head sunk down, forehead colliding with Alastor's shoulder. "I waited for you, I..." A sharp sob wracked through your body. Your vision blurred as the tears spilled freely. Everything else melted away in that moment for you. The years of loneliness, anguish, and bitterness all came crashing over you at once.

"Why don't we take this conversation elsewhere, my dear." Before you knew it, Alastor's shadows enveloped you. The scenery changed right before your eyes. Now, you were greeted by a large hotel room. Half of the space was overtaken by a beautiful woodland. The sound of the crickets chirping flooded your head.

"I deserve an explanation, Al." You spoke through gritted teeth. Hastily wiping your tears. Alastor let out a deep sigh as he turned to face you. His signature smile wavered slightly as his eyes averted from yours. "It's rather complicated, my darling." He muttered, approaching you cautiously.

Your eyebrows knit in frustration as you scoffed. "Really? That's your sorry excuse? You left me for dead. The least you could do was send a fucking postcard." You chuckled bitterly, crossing your arms. Alastor stepped closer, large palms grasping your shoulders. "I did not have a choice! Do you truly believe I haven't thought of you every second of every day since we last saw one another?"

Alastor's voice was rigid as he met you at eye level. His look was pleading as he continued on. "I'm bound by my constraints. Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn't! I still can't!" His radio static fizzled out toward the end of his sentence. The look of stress spread across his face sent a pang of pain in your heart.

You couldn't help but soften. You knew Alastor was being genuine, and it killed you to know something terrible had happened to him. Your shaky hands rose to your husband's cheeks as tears brimmed at your lash line. "Oh, my love... I should have had more faith, but-" The blood in your veins ran cold as you cut yourself off. The recollection of selling your soul to Vox suddenly flashed through your mind.

Alastor knew something was wrong. He slowly brought his hands down to rub your sides soothingly. "But...? What's troubling you, my dear." You could hardly look at him. Shame coursed through your veins as a sob escaped you. Alastor's crimson orbs swirled with worry as he awaited your response with bated breath.

"I did something terrible..." You confessed, sniffling before you continued. "I... I made a deal with Vox. My soul in exchange for protection." Alastor's lips twitched, nearly foiling his smile. His grasp on your waist tightened as he took in a deep breath. "This is all my doing. He only targeted you to get under my skin..." Alastor muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

More tears trickled down your regretful face. There was no getting out of this. You knew Vox would never let you go. At that very moment, you heard a call of your name. Coming from the window. You read the clock, dread flooding your chest as you realized your time was up.

"I-I have to go. Vox put me on a curfew." You stuttered, slowly retracting your hands from your husband's face. You smoothed out your clothing and wiped away the last remaining tears. Trying to mentally prepare yourself for the ride back to Vox Tec Headquarters.

"Please, I beg of you- don't go..." Alastor pleaded, clutching your hand with his. Your lips trembled as he continued on. "I just got you back. I don't plan on giving you up this easily." Your heart ached. You hated yourself for making a deal with Vox, for letting your guard down, for ever doubting Alastor.

Your eyes fluttered open as Alastor's lips collided against yours. The kiss was desperate, pleading as your husband tried his hardest to convey just how much you meant to him through the embrace. He pulled back slowly, admiring your face from close up. "You're just as exceptional as the day I left you, my darling. Chin up, my dear. I'll get you out of this deal no matter what!"

All you could do was nod in agreement as a call of your name repeated. A bit more pointed this time around. You slowly pulled away from your lover, giving him one last look. "I love you, Al," You whispered as your back faced him. Your confession was barely audible, but your husband heard it. Loud and clear.

"I love you, my dear. More than anything."

You ignored the hotel patrons as you quickly took your leave. You emitted a shaky breath before opening the car door. Vox welcomed you with a smile as you sat beside him. The chauffeur wasted no time pulling away from the run-down place. You meekly peered out of the car, catching a glimpse of Alastor from the second-floor window.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces from the rare sight of your husband frowning as he watched you descend down the bleary road with a man he had not a care in the world for.

"Well? What did that nobody have to say for himself?" Vox chuckled, grasping your hand with his. Your head whipped in his direction. It took everything in you not to yank your hand from his grasp. You had to play it smart, or you would be sorry.

"Excuses on top of excuses... this was a mistake. I never want to see that liar again." It pained you to utter those words. You just hoped your act would be believable enough. Vox captured your chin with his thumb and forefinger. A wide grin spread across his monitor. "Your wish is my command, sweetheart. I'll do everything in my power to make sure Alastor never crosses your path, for the rest of your afterlife."

A cold sweat blanketed your skin from his words. Anxiety spiking in your veins. Vox pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into a hug, soothing his large palm over your back.

"That fucker needs to understand that you belong to me now."

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx

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springtyme · 2 months

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Hi Sage, congrats on the milestone, honey!

I would love to request number 10 from the fluff prompt with Spencer ✨

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐃𝐨𝐜 ♡

Thank you so much, dear! This was so lovely to write ♡

Spencer Reid x reader || Main masterlist || Spencer playlist

10: “I just want to lay here all day” for the 1k follower celebration. Waking up next to you is Spencer's favorite thing in the world.

word count: 1k

As the warm sunlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow, you slowly open your eyes. Slowly stirring from your slumber, you let out a contented sigh, stretching your arms before turning to find Spencer, lying peacefully beside you. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you admire his soft features and tousled hair. It’s so rare that you wake up before him, but you love when you do.

You carefully prop yourself up on your elbow, gently tracing the contours of his face with your eyes. His relaxed expression fills your heart with warmth, reminding you just how lucky you are to have him by your side. Gently, you reach out to brush a wavy strand of hair away from his forehead, reveling in the softness of his touch against your fingertips.

As you bask in the tranquility of the moment, fond memories of your journey together begin to flood your mind. From the first time you met, you knew there was something special about Spencer Reid. It was a fateful day at a small bookstore three years ago. You were both reaching for the same book and your hands accidentally brushed against each other. The spark of connection was instant, and from that moment on, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards each other.

As you reminisce, you can’t help but remember the nervous excitement of your first date. Spencer had taken you to a small café, where the two of you spent hours engrossed in deep conversations about your shared love for literature, psychology, and everything in between. It was clear that you had found someone who understood you on a level no one else had before.

Each day with Spencer is a new discovery, and waking up beside him feels like unwrapping a precious gift.

You trace the outline of his lips, recalling the tender kisses shared in this very room, sealing promises of love and devotion. The way his eyes light up when he catches a glimpse of you, the way his voice intertwines with yours in whispered conversations late into the night – these are the cherished moments that make your heart dance with joy.

Lost in your reflections, you slowly lean down, pressing your lips against his forehead in a gentle, loving kiss. His warm breath brushes against your skin, a sign that he is beginning to wake, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. A sleepy smile graces his lips, mirroring the way you felt only moments ago.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you whisper, leaning in to press a tender kiss on Spencer’s forehead.

“Mmm, morning,” he mumbles, his voice still laced with sleep. He shifts closer, instinctively seeking your warmth, and sneaks his arms around you.

“Did you sleep well?” you whisper, your voice filled with tenderness.

Spencer’s eyes widen with delight, his voice layered with affection as he replies, “With you by my side, how could I not?”

You feel your heart swell at his response, a warm feeling spreading through you. The love you share with Spencer is something truly special, and these little moments of intimacy and connection reaffirm that bond.

As you lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you relish in the comfort and safety of being with someone who truly understands you. With Spencer, you feel seen, heard, and valued in a way you’ve never experienced before. His presence in your life has brought a depth of joy and meaning that you never knew was possible.

“I just want to lay here all day,” Spencer murmurs, his voice filled with contentment. You nestle closer to him, a grin spreading across your face.

“That does sound good,” you reply, your voice filled with equal parts longing and satisfaction. Time seems to lose its meaning as you both lie there, embracing the beauty of the present moment. “Let’s stay like this for a little longer,” you suggest with a chuckle, wrapping your arms tighter around Spencer’s form. The two of you entwine in a blissful embrace, savoring the intimate comfort found in each other’s arms.

The room is filled with a sense of peace and serenity, as if the world outside ceases to exist. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the moment, feeling the rise and fall of Spencer’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a state of tranquility.

As you lay there, you can’t help but think about how happy you are to have met Spencer. His intelligence, compassion, and unwavering support have been constant sources of strength and inspiration in your life.

With a soft smile, you lean up to press a tender kiss against Spencer’s cheek, a silent expression of gratitude for the love and happiness he brings into your life. He responds by turning his head, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss that speaks volumes of the love you both share.

As you pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling, and you whisper, “As tempting as lazing around for the rest of the morning is, I’m kind of starving. How about I make us some breakfast?”

“How about we make it together?” Spencer suggest.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, running your fingers lazily through Spencer’s soft waves. A smile spreading across your face, feeling a surge of excitement at the idea of embarking on this simple task together.

“But you know the rule. I’m in charge of coffee,” Spencer says.

You grin playfully, planting a quick kiss on Spencer’s nose. “Sure.”

You both slowly untangle yourselves from each other's embrace, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed. As you make your way to the kitchen, a sense of domestic bliss fills the air.

While he brews the coffee, you gather ingredients for a hearty breakfast. The sound of sizzling bacon fills the room as you simultaneously crack eggs into a bowl, your gazes occasionally meeting and exchanging a knowing smile. It’s moments like these that make life feel so simple yet so beautiful.

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lastoneout · 10 months

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I def agree that Nimona's story was a major trans allegory for sure, but also as a queer person in general the whole "maybe I wouldn't die, but I sure wouldn't be living" thing resonated so hard, and like especially as a bisexual person.

Cuz being bi+ there's a lot of pressure from both sides to pick one, either be gay or be straight, and it gets way worse when we're in a relationship, bcs people will say shit like "oh well you're a woman dating a man, so you're straight now, why do you keep talking about being bi?" or vice-versa, like people don't understand why recognizing my indentity is important outside of the context of a relationship, and it's so frustrating bcs yeah like, maybe from the outside it looks like I'm straight, and maybe I could just be quiet and ignore my identity and I'd wouldn't die, but...I wouldn't be living.

And it was wild too bcs a few months back I was talking with my fiancé, who's also bi, and kinda venting cuz I'd seen some of that kind of biphobia in the wild and it'd upset me, and I remember saying something so similar. Like "I could probably just shut up and pretend I'm not bisexual, but that would feel like a death, like some part of me had died, I wouldn't be able to really live" so to hear Nimona say basically the exact same thing? Instant tears. I've never felt more understood.

And even with the other parts of myself, being asexual and trying to figure out what sort of relationship I want to have to my gender, so often I see people say stuff like "why do you have to tell other people that you're ace" and "if you're not going to transition at all why does your gender identity matter" and it's like because this is my authentic self and expressing that is the only way I can feel like my life is worth living!!

It's just so nice to hear that put into words, and I have a feeling a lot of queer people of all identities could relate in that moment, bcs we all hear the refrain of "why can't you just keep this to yourself and pretend you're normal" over and over again from ignorant people, some who mean well and some who very much Do Not, and Nimona is right! Maybe some of us wouldn't die outright, but for a lot of us a life spent hiding who we are, stuffing ourselves in boxes for the comfort of others, trying desperately to seem normal, it simply isn't a life where we're truly living.

Anyway rambling over, this movie is just so good and so queer and ough I can't stop crying about it T-T

#nimona #pls watch nimona #nimona spoilers #queer #bisexual #bisexuality #bi+

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drak3n · 4 months

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THE LOST LOVE

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: two lovers who went seperate ways years ago… one of the cases we love most!

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, age gap (reader was in college & toji in his thirties when they met), dad!toji, breakup, implied divorce, insecurities, smut, unprotected sex

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i like to think that meeting each other was like a breath of fresh air. for both of us. wouldn’t you agree?”

wake up. go to work. get home. eat. sleep. repeat.

toji’s life was a vicious cycle, one of a middle age man with no goals in life. it was funny to him how people would actually call that a life.

the only times he truly felt like he was alive was when he was seated on the bleachers watching a good old horse race. or a boat race. or whatever it was that he had bet money on.

no one understood him.

toji knew that life rarely gifted him anything. he was no lucky man. in the many years of betting and gambling, he seldomly won. and the money he had won those few times was enough to cover the ticket and perhaps a nice dinner.

and although knowing he was probably going to leave empty-handed, he did it for the thrill. it made him feel youthful again. like he hadn’t wasted his years on useless things that aged him faster than he had hoped to. like he was still the same old teenager he had been years ago.

it wasn’t until one fated day that he found out that there were other things that could bring him back to his youth, other than doing useless crap that only burned a hole in his pocket.

said thing being you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“the way we met wasn’t really romantic. it wasn’t like a scene out of a movie or a novel. looking back, it was quite comedic, even. i’m sure you felt the same way.”

there were a lot of terrible things that came with being a busy person, one of which you were facing right now. standing in front of a ridiculously long line at the grocery store.

you ran out of basic ingredients for cooking, it was a saturday evening, and you really did not want to order takeout again for a third time this week.

standing in front of you was a group of drunken kids — by kids you meant they were around your age, maybe in college like you — but they were different. they seemed carefree. they used their time to have fun and laugh instead of constantly grumping and punishing you with more work than you had.

you wished you could be like them, too. at least sometimes.

what made you get out of your train of thoughts was the sound of an item being placed on the conveyor belt, the rattling sounding too familiar for your liking. another person who hated cooking, so it seemed. and another person who barely had enough change to get a cup of instant noodles.

it was a man — you heard from the occasional sighs and grunts leaving his lips, and the way his cologne wafted over to invade your senses.

why did you suddenly have the urge to turn around and bond with this random stranger? perhaps hit him up with something like ‘heck, youngsters these days, right?’

absolutely not. that would be goofy as hell. and judging by how slowly the like progressed, you were likely going to stand here for at least ten more minutes. you would rather die than make a fool of yourself and then proceed to stand here for even longer afterwards.

oddly enough, the huffing stranger beat you to it. your breath hitched in your throat at the gruff voice sounding.

“s’cuse me, little lady.”

a bulky arm shot forward from behind you, making you step aside to grant him access to the side of the conveyor. you cleared your throat, turning around with an apologetic smile— and damn was he hot.

he looked quite a bit older than you, and he looked quite… distraught. sleepless, deep green eyes, unruly jet black hair that looked like he hadn’t gotten cut in a while, and a stubble gracing his jaw and chin.

you hated romanticizing people who weren’t feeling their best. so, you quickly snapped out of it.

“sorry for hogging the conveyor.” you chuckled, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere as everyone else in the line was quite angry. the man gave you a halfhearted smile, scar on the right side of his mouth stretching. you wondered how he’d gotten that scar.

“don’t worry ‘bout it,” he waved your apology off, slightly motioning at the impatient woman huffing and puffing behind him. “someone’s just very fuckin’ annoying.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his words. then, your eyes wandered to the conveyor, staring up to meet his again. “you can get in front of me, sir.” you offered kindly, already moving to make some space in front of you, “don’t have to wait even longer for a single item.”

the surprise in his eyes was a dead giveaway that no one had been polite or nice to him in a long time. before he could make it obvious, he shook his head, uttering, “s’fine. thanks.”

but you insisted, for some reason. it wasn’t until he was standing in front of you, cup of ramen placed in front of your groceries, and the seething woman now standing right behind you, that you were happily smiling.

the man walked off after paying for his noodles when the line finally progressed what felt like years later, not even sparing you a glance. you were barely able to contain your disappointment as you bagged your groceries and shuffled outside of the store, ready to take the train back home with full hands.

just to see the man from the line in the grocery store thumbing at the instant noodle cup’s lid, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

his hands wordlessly approached yours to take your bags of groceries, not even frowning at the heaviness of them, as he let out a puff of cigarette smoke.

“i’ll drop ya off, little lady.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“our love was fierce. characterized by sleepless nights, stolen breaths and undying passion.”

ragged breaths filled the air of your small bedroom. it was dark, perhaps around nighttime, and the air was thick with sweat, arousals and the sinful smell of sex.

a lazy kiss was exchanged between you two with swollen, trembling lips as you settled down in each other’s arms. your eyes were shut as toji moved a little to light a cigarette.

your fingertips traced over his bare, built chest, post-orgasmic glow making his handsome face look even prettier. you were convinced he was the prettiest man you’d ever seen in your life.

“are you staying for dinner?” you asked, voice hoarse and quiet from how he had formerly railed you into your mattress. toji wasn’t a gentle lover. the word soft was very foreign to him. but you didn’t mind that. you didn’t mind him squeezing your hand too tightly whenever he held it. he didn’t know any better.

he exhaled the cigarette smoke away from you, large palm settling on the tender, bruised flesh on your hips. his thick, rough fingers traced over the softness of your skin that he had grabbed and kneaded mere minutes ago while manhandling you.

“sorry, baby,” he mumbled into your hair as you already knew what was coming, “gotta go. i’ll stay over next time, promise.”

you wanted him to stay, you really did, but with a sigh, you watched as he got dressed and left — not without pulling you into another kiss. missing the way his eyes twisted with a hint of guilt as he shut the door to your apartment behind himself.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you weren’t a man of many words. you didn’t like talking too much about yourself. but you’d always listen to whatever i’d say. and whenever i wasn’t up to talk, we’d relish in each other’s silence. it was calming.”

“how many girlfriends have you had before me?”

the silence surrounding the air on your balcony after your question made you reconsider if it was a smart thing to ask.

it wasn’t. since when was it okay to talk about exes? you remembered it as one of the most off-putting conversation topics to ever come up with.

toji’s bare arms were propped up against the metal railing, gaze wandering from the unspectacular sight below him that consisted of old, run down buildings and sketchy streets, to you.

he knew it was too late to tell you the truth. he pressed his scarred lips together in regret, before opening his mouth to respond to your question.

“many.”

he saw the way your nose scrunched up at the ugly word — he wished it had been the truth. much better than hurting you with a fucking lie. made him wonder how you’d react to the truth.

“c’mere.” when you didn’t make a move to approach toji, he pulled you into him, dwarfing your body in his form. “you’re not mad, are you?”

“how could i ever be mad at you?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“there was just one thing i wish you had just told me from the beginning. you know, i actually knew the entire time. i was just waiting for you to tell me.”

“dad, the show’s about to start.”

toji was now a couple of years older, about to celebrate his fourth decade of living in a few weeks. he wouldn’t admit that he was getting older. he had just plucked another gray hair from his scalp this morning, but no one had to know that.

sock-clad feet padded from the kitchen to the living room, bowl of salted popcorn in his hand as he placed it in front of his college-aged kid. toji was in awe at how the brat was becoming more of a carbon copy of himself the more years passed.

the only difference being his spiky, wild hair and blue eyes he had gotten from his mother.

“we’re not watching a match today?” toji sounded rather bored as he leaned back on the couch with a can of soda in his hand, legs finding the surface of the living room table as the younger man munched on sweets.

megumi shook his head, eyes focused on the screen that was still playing some shampoo commercial. “have you ever heard of TATMYLB?” the green-eyed man beside him narrowed his eyes at the obnoxiously long abbreviation, .

“kid. i don’t understand your language,” he grunted, “i’m headin’ out if it’s another high school rom com.” said boy only snorted as he pointed at the tv that happened to be playing a trailer of what was going to be playing next.

“reading today… TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE’s 26th letter!” toji kissed his teeth. of course it was going to be some sappy ass show. why was it so popular anyway?

he raised from the couch, scratching his belly lazily under his sweater as he pointed to the door with his thumb. “gonna check the mail,” he uttered, “we haven’t emptied our mailbox in days.”

megumi hummed, too immersed in what today’s live episode was going to be about. just as toji approached the door, curiosity got the best of him, and he found himself listening.

“unfortunately, she won’t be joining us today, but we have received a beautifully written letter by her! what a lucky man to have been loved like this.” the host spoke gleefully as the audience erupted into cheers and applause.

“our writer is a 29 year old lady from tokyo, a journalist for a very popular newspaper, which explains her splendid writing,” the co-host added, “she has met a man she refers to as her LOST LOVE nine whole years ago.”

toji set his keys down on the shoerack and walked back to the living room. megumi took notice of his dad walking back and smirked. “caught your attention, old man?” he only scowled at his son and placed his hands on the back of the couch.

the stage was beautifully built, and one could tell how much budged was spent on it all. it was a hell lot of pink, too much for toji’s liking — then again, any amount of pink was too much for his liking. the hosts were dolled up to the max, host dressed in a baby pink, frilly dress with her hair done up while the co-host was dressed in a pink suit.

“adding on to that… we have not received an answer or a reaction from the recipient.” a glum round of oh’s echoed across the studio, which made toji snort. “which doesn’t have to mean anything, of course! perhaps he’s just terrible at checking his mail.”

megumi stopped mid-chew as he side-eyed his father, who shot him a look. “old man, you don’t think—” megumi might have been young, but he had a very good memory of his father’s past lovers. especially that one woman who had changed him forever. you.

although he had never met you, he could tell it was you who had a huge impact on his father. and he figured that toji never opened up about having had a son.

“don’t be silly, bud,” toji laughed, reaching over to steal a handful of popcorn from the bowl in his son’s lap. he didn’t even like popcorn, why the hell was he eating it? it had to be the most annoying snack in the world with how the shell of the kernels always got stuck in one’s gums or throat.

you must have moved on years ago. it’s been almost a decade, for fuck’s sake. perhaps you were married already. had kids. he hated how the thought made his jaw clench. it was none of his business anymore, after all.

“mistakes. we all make them. so far, we have had a lot of letters speaking about wrongdoings,” the host clapped her hands together, “but how about keeping secrets? crucial ones?”

of course they were going to drag it on. what a bunch of clowns the audience was for eating it up. he totally wasn’t, not with the way he was clutching the couch cushions in anticipation.

he just wanted to know it wasn’t you, so he could move on in peace. because if you have moved on, then he shall do the same.

the audience was then asked to talk about their experiences with secrets in a relationship, before they started guessing what the person might have done.

eventually, an elderly woman received the mic and laughed. “it wasn’t another woman, so,” she paused, “i’d say hiding a child.”

the two hosts opened their mouths before knowingly looking at the audience, and toji cleared his throat. by now, megumi was fully facing his father, a look of disbelief on his face. before he could speak, toji raised a palm.

“i said don’t be silly,” he warned megumi, “it’s not me. jesus.” megumi shook his head before raising his palm to invite his father to a handshake, challenging him to a bet, “fifty bucks if it’s you, then.”

toji could never say no to bets. maybe he should have checked his mailbox first, though.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

the show was halfway through, currently on a commercial break as you found yourself in the kitchen to prepare yourself a cup of instant noodles. the sight of the cup still brought you back to day you had met toji.

before you could open the lid of the cup, you were halted by the sound of your doorbell ringing. leaving behind the sounds of your kettle whistling, you approached tye door to look through the—

your hand immediately flew to the handle to fling the door open. to stare right at the man you hadn’t seen in over seven years.

there was a lot both of you wanted to say. he wanted to apologize for having disappeared out of nowhere, for having abandoned you when things had been going so well between both of you; while you wanted to slap him, cuss him out and scream at him.

alas, all that came out was a choked sob on your behalf. a sound forced out of your throat, displaying the despair you had felt out of the lack of closure.

toji watched with wide eyes as you broke down in front of him. he wanted to make you happy. or get yelled at. anything but you crying. fuck, he was terrible at this.

toji was only ever good at leaving. that’s what he had done back then when his family no longer served him; that’s what megumi’s mother had spat at him before she left.

screw the past. screw all of his fears. he had waited far too long to come clean. you didn’t deserve this at all.

“i’m sorry.” he breathed, taking a step closer, now partially surrounded by the warmth of your place that hadn’t changed in the slightest. “i hid him from you because—”

you shook your head, trembling hands raising to wipe at your reddened eyes, “i don’t give a damn, toji.” he shut his mouth, because respectfully, you had all the right to be angry.

what he didn’t expect was for you to chuckle through tears. “stop looking at me like that,” you pointed at his lips, “that stupid pout of yours…” he had a habit of pursing his lips whenever he was distressed. you hadn’t forgotten about it.

when you stepped aside to welcome toji inside, he was baffled. “‘course you didn’t read the letter,” you sneered, which made him look down grimly, “if you had, you’d know that i could never be mad at you.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

you didn’t ask toji to, but he told you everything. how he had just gotten divorced when he met you, and who had fought for split custody the entire time. who couldn’t have you over at his place because of the child’s room he had.

it wasn’t like he was ashamed to have had megumi. he considered him one of the very few good things in his life. but, he couldn’t risk scaring you off. not when he had found someone as perfect for him as you.

and when things got serious, he did what he knew best. which was to bolt.

it wasn’t a surprise to him that you already knew. he had the wrong idea of you by thinking you’d push him away just because he had a son. now he knew that you could have been the best stepmother megumi could have asked for.

if he hadn’t blown it all.

“so he’s in college now?” you were smiling as you were both situated on your couch. toji feld oddly calm looking at you. you hadn’t changed much.

“this was us at his high school graduation,” he couldn’t help but smile too as he showed you his phone wallpaper. the thought that you could have been on that picture too made your smile fade for a second before you found yourself melting at how proudly he glanced down at his son in his crinkled button-down shirt, one arm lazily slung over the boy who looked at the camera with an irritated, forced smile.

you wondered if megumi would have liked you and already accepted you as his stepmother if toji hadn’t left. wondered if you two would have been married by now—

thoughts like those were useless now.

it happened so fast. like the force of two magnets attracting each other, it felt like you were pulled towards each other. a mumbled ‘i missed you’ left your lips before they planted themselves on his, both of you getting lost in the sensation of the other’s lips.

toji’s lips tasted like salt and popcorn, whereas yours tasted of the peace of candy you had popped into your mouth while waiting for the water to boil.

ah… right. the water. the kettle had stopped whistling a while ago. but both of you were busy sucking each other’s faces to notice that.

you were sat prettily on toji’s lap, hands running across his muscles hidden by his clothes. the only sign of him having aged were the tiny wrinkles on the corners of his eyes. other than that, he still looked like the 31 year-old toji you had met in the line of the grocery store.

he was the same man you had given your heart to. and you were eager to do it all again.

your clothing was shedded in a matter of minutes, hastily and in a rush. it felt like you were being intimate with each other for the first time all over again with wide eyes and shaky hands.

toji pressed you into his chest as he slid inside of you, and it seemed like the world stopped for a while. toji didn’t do soft, he wasn’t gentle. but you could swear you saw nothing but softness and adoration in his eyes in this very moment.

once he started thrusting up into you, your hands straddled his face, fingers digging into his skin as if afraid to let go. toji saw and felt the fear in your eyes, and he took both of your hands to place soft kisses on them.

“‘m not leaving again,” he grunted, relishing in the tightness and warmth he was buried inside of, “promise.”

you whimpered, nodding as you pulled him into yet another sensual, messy kiss while you worked each other through your releases. out of all the times you and toji had sex, this had to be the rawest, most intimate time.

it wasn’t fucking. it was love-making. the kind you’d never expect from a man like toji.

he stayed inside of you after both of you came, buff arms trapping you as you listened to his slowing heartbeat as both of you trembled. neither of you wanted to move, if you could, you’d stay like this forever.

toji’s lips against your temple pulled you back from your daze, and you reached for your underwear to avoid a mess, sighing softly when he pulled out of you. “shower?” he asked, to which you nodded lazily.

before he could lift and throw you over his shoulder, you placed a kiss on his collarbone.

“let’s eat instant noodles and rewatch the episode after that. since you haven’t read the letter—”

oh, toji was never going to hear the end of this.

but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

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thecuriousquest · 4 months

Text

Princess (Daddy Loves You Part One)

Yan!Step Dad Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @murderofravens

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, spanking, guns mentioned, praise kink, Daddy kink, consensual vaginal sex, hair pulling, all characters are 18+

Master List

Part Two

My Ask Box is currently closed while I catch up on requests. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

—————————————————————————

Yan!Step Dad Toji who wears those tight black boxer briefs and an open robe while drinking coffee on the front porch.

Toji doesn’t get mad at you over much. He lets you dress how you want, doesn’t really care if you come home past curfew. Hell, he doesn’t even give a fuck if you’re dating.

Just as long as he can’t see you, his precious princess, with the guy, but that’s where you fucked up because why would you think there’s a problem? He never told you that you couldn’t bring boys over, never told you that you couldn’t date.

Why is this an issue? Because Daddy wants to make it an issue. Daddy’s been craving the perfect reason to punish his princess. He didn’t want to come off as a jerk and be the strictest father ever imaginable. Oh no. He wanted you to dote on him, he wanted to build a solid foundation and a great relationship with you before he showed off his darker nature.

He catches you on the couch watching tv with some guy in your class. A guy with no brawn and probably too much brain for his own good. He catches the dude with a hand on your knee, mindlessly thumbing the ripped fabric of your jeans.

Toji knows what he’s thinking about.

“Kid, get your hand off of her and get the fuck out.”

Both heads snap at Toji. Your eyes are like an owl. His mouth is parted slightly, forming the question “why”.

They weren’t doing anything wrong.

To Toji, you two were doing everything wrong. He can no longer live in his little fantasy about you being just his. He’s not sharing you. He’s not going to share his princess with anyone.

“I said-“ Toji starts as he puts the coffee down and removes his gun from the waistband of his boxer briefs. “Get your hand off of her-“ click goes the safety. Soon to follow, he cocks the weapon, “And get the fuck out. Or are ya heard of hearin’?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him run that fast in his life, and you’re about to run just as fast to your room when his arm shoots out and grabs you by the hair.

“Princess, Daddy’s real disappointed in ya. Gonna hafta punish ya real bad.”

You’re belly-down on the couch in an instant, your ass jiggling in those tight jeans with each spank from his large paw. You whine and writhe, but his knee on the middle of your back holds you still.

You can’t see the scar on his lip quirking up as he really lays into you, flaying your bottom a nice cherry red. He tugs your jeans down, giving you the real what-for a few more times on your bare ass just to really let the lesson sink in.

Toji flips you over on your back, pointing a finger in your face. “Never again, am I understood? I never wanna see ya with any fuckin’ creeps around here again. Ya got me?”

You blink up at him through bleary eyes, nodding to his stern command.

“You…you spanked me?” You can’t help but question. He’s never done anything like that before.

He drops his finger and stands up, jacked body on full display with his revealing robe.

“Yeah, and I’ll fuckin’ do it again if I see you disobeyin’ me or some shit.”

He sits down on the couch, man spreading, and pulls you in close to his side. You wriggle around, trying to get your jeans back over your hips. When you finally do, you rest comfortably against your step dad.

You honestly don’t know how to feel about him punishing you, but you can’t help squirming as you try to relive a tiny tingling feeling in your clit. Toji attempts to ignore you at first, but he finally breaks and puts you on his lap.

“Fuck,” he huffs, unable to bear it anymore.

You can feel his hard on poking your thigh as your hips wriggle.

“Ya really like gettin’ spanked that much? Like havin’ yer ass beat by a guy who’s stronger than ya?”

He chides and tsks, making that buzzing between your legs grow even further as he lets you break down right in front of him.

Adverting your eyes, you lean into the crook of his neck, mumbling against sensitive flesh, “Only when it’s you.”

You didn’t realize just how strong he actually is because he rips your jeans off of you. They’re tattered heaps of fabric by the time he’s done freeing you of your denim cage. He cups the fat of your swollen cheeks, fingers digging into beaten flesh as he spreads them.

You busy yourself with working his cock free from his boxer briefs while hovering over him, and your step father can’t help but laugh as he watches you struggle. But you’re determined, and somehow, with him sitting down and you trying straddle his lap, you get the damned thing off of him.

He plants you right on his fat mushroom tip, a little pearl of pre coating the head. You throw your head back, crying out for your daddy as he praises you for being so fucking tight.

“Knew ya were a good girl for Daddy. Always such a good fuckin’ girl.”

He really wants to see you bounce on his cock with your tits free, and Toji gets what he wants. You’re not surprised when he rips your shirt and bra completely from your body with one tug. It’s like an effortless motion for him. All nice and naked, he buries his face in your chest while squeezing the dough of your round bottom.

Up and down, up and down, your thighs soon grow tired as you learn of this man’s stamina.

Not liking you slowing your pace, he slaps your ass to get you moving. You yip, bucking your hips into him as you try and steady your breath. But as soon as you relax, your quaking thighs can’t help but start to seek out a more stress relieving position.

Toji, tired of how long this is taking, flips you on your slightly bruised rear. He fucks into you on the couch, thumping between your plush thighs.

“There’s an angel face. So fuckin’ pretty,” he compliments while brushing your locks back.

He slams his cock deep into you, making your pussy feel so cute and small. You end up gushing all over his cock like a sensitive little bunny, and Toji praises you for coming all over him.

“I really lucked out with you, huh?”

Soon after, Toji floods your pussy with his own. The show on the tv has changed to something else as he adjusts his boxer briefs and settles back down next to you.

“Clean all this up and change before your mom and Megumi get home.”

He smacks you on your ass to get you going, and you don’t want to refuse because you’re such a good girl.

“Yes, Daddy,” you tell him as you hurry to obey.

After this, Toji’s definitely going to have to start implementing more spankings into your life.

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spdrvyn · 11 months

Text

parched — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( I FINALLY WATCHED ATSV AAAGHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD !!! not gonna say anything because if i ramble it will 100% go into spoiler territory but it was probably the best movie i've ever seen no exaggeration. anyway, here's a small miguel one shot? drabble? spoiler-free :3 ))

READ PART 2 HERE.

You and Miguel led nearly entirely different lives.

He was constantly out and about. Putting his body, his mind through strenuous lengths for the sake of the people. For the sake of everyone. He sacrifices a piece of himself, bit by bit. Everyday. Just for everybody else's peace.

Your job almost felt a little silly next to his. After all, you were quite sure that being Spider-Man didn't offer a week of paid vacation. Which you were extremely grateful to have, by the way.

In all honesty, you felt the smallest piece of pity for him. You were able to catch up on your hobbies, enjoy shows that were put on your list for so long, and get more than 5 hours of sleep.

You knew that Miguel was barely getting a shred of that. How did you know? Even in two in the morning, while you were resting on the couch and catching up on yet another show, you hadn't heard him come in through the window that you normally keep open for him.

Worry seeps it's way into your brain as you try to focus on the pixels in front of you. Of course, you were scared for him. Everyday that he went out, the unexpected could happen and well... You didn't want to think too deep into it.

At least, your mind was distracted when you were working but now you were relaxing, the thoughts that you tried bury deep down under to the crevices of your mind were all coming back again.

It only concerned you more when throughout the week so far, you'd seen him less and less. On occasion, in the middle of the night, the click of a lock would alert you awake but before you could sit up and investigate, strong arms locked around your waist and a head pressed into your shoulder.

You sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing your show.

The worries, the yearning. It all gave you a swirling, growing feeling in your gut that you hadn't really familiarized yourself with. You weren't sure if you liked it, you weren't sure if you hated it. Though the way that it pierced into you like a newly sharpened spear just confused you even further.

Trying to focus on another feeling growing inside of you. Hunger and satisfying it, you hoped it would get all of this off of your mind as you lazily walk into the kitchen.

A reoccurring theme whenever you wanted a snack was once you actually made your way to the pantry, decisions were a foreign concept and your cravings were like trying to read binary code.

Instant ramen? Cookies? Chips? Ice cream?

Felt even worse this time when you hadn't particularly been exercising your brain recently, a mental note to yourself to be just a little bit on edge when you get a break like this.

You opt on giving up entirely, you slam the cabinet door, and turn around to get back to the couch until—

There's a weight against your back and waist, keeping you against the counter.

As you look down, you see the familiar shades of red and blue. Sighing, you look to a little over your shoulder and take a little peek. To see closed eyes signalled by Miguel's mask. The marks trembling shut, you feel his grip on you get tighter.

In a volume as close to a whisper, you break the silence, "Miguel? You okay?" Like you expected, he takes off his mask. Eyes screwed shut, brows furrowing as you can see the stress lines and deep circles under them.

He sighs but not out of being content, thumb tracing small shapes into your stomach. "Been so lonely, mi cielo."

Your heart clenches as that. That was right, you understood what kind of lover that he could be. Needy, clingy, these qualities festering even more each moment he spends away from you. You noticed how much he was holding back right now.

He normally liked to fix himself up before getting all comfortable and relaxed with you. Showering, brushing his curls, general self-care but the moment he came inside his first instinct was to go to you.

Those thoughts from a while ago that were nearly going to absorb you came back. To think the cold that Miguel had to endure out there from how tightly he wanted to absorb your warmth.

"I missed you so much. Me sentí tan solo, don't wanna let go."

You were going to respond but your mind practically short-circuited when he started pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You let him indulge himself, just a little while.

Of course, his job terrified you sometimes but seeing him like this. Seeing him let his guard down, talking about how much he missed you, calling you his darling.

Perhaps Spider-Men had their own charm but Miguel's just got you wrapped around his finger like nobody else could.

For a brief moment, he nibbles on the flesh at the back of your neck. Pressing one last kiss, "Will get fixed up, then voy a demostrarte cuánto te extrañé después de todo este tiempo."

Shamefully, you didn't pick up learning Spanish yet from how much Miguel speaks it to you. Yet through context clues and bashfully asking him what the things he said meant sometimes.

You knew exactly what was going to come next.

#lmao get cliffhanged loser #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #fluff #romance #end sounds like sexy times are gonna happen but #i promise you this is a gona be a fucking fluff fest #dw theres gonna be a part 2

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onirique-amaranth · 1 year

Text

⎮Feeling you through these walls⎮

⏤ Characters: Diavolo⎮Barbatos⎮reader (separated)

⏤ Including: nsfw (-17)

⏤ Warnings: bottom/sub characters, top/dom male amab reader, use of fleshlight, dub-con in Diavolo's part

⏤ Summary: After being 'offered' a fleshlight, you did not expect to enjoy that overly pleasurable and realistic toy to this extent.

⏤ 2.600 words

Part 2: Diavolo & Barbatos

✧ From what most people saw, Diavolo is a serious and busy man, rarely being seen outside the Demon Lord's Castle. As someone being close to him, you knew he never had the time to take care of himself or have some time alone.

✧ Sometimes, you would pretend an important matter just to have a meeting with him, and relax together. At first, you were just sitting in silence and not doing anything, but after a while, you both got more comfortable. Diavolo would doze off on your lap, letting you touch his hair or wings, it became one of his only moments of rest.

✧ You were someone he trusts, but also someone he grew interested in. Diavolo would excitedly wait for any new meeting with you, becoming annoyed or tensed when it started to take too many days. And now, it has been two weeks since you last contacted him, and the Future King was growing fidgety.

✧ On your side, you were not avoiding him because you wanted to, but you were getting too attached to Diavolo and did not want to cross the line. Unholy thoughts and urges were taking over your rational mind, and being near him would only make you go insane.

✧ Out of desperation, you went to buy something in a sex shop to get over this problem. Except that you may have forgotten to read everything written on the box, and earned yourself a good surprise.

✧ As you used the fleshlight innocently, oblivious to the effect it could have on someone else, you don't question the strange feeling overpowering your mind. The pleasure crushes anything else inside you, any rational thoughts reduced to ashes as your delusions became your only reason to still be conscious.

✧ Your pace was powerful and unforgiving, almost violent, trying to extract every last drop of your sin. Everything was blurry around you, colours mixing in a chaotic mess, light burning your eyes as you closed them and got lost. Such pleasure was out of this world.

✧ And on his side, Diavolo was certainly not expecting the surge of pleasure, piercing through his body. The sudden feeling of something entering him from behind was absolutely insane… Who in their right mind would do this to the Future King of the Devildom?

✧ For an instant, he thought he may have imagined it as he checked if he did not sit on something strange. But unfortunately, it was not the case, as someone was really fucking him right now, while he was in the middle of working.

✧ It felt nice, he could not deny it, but he didn't want to feel that way. For a long while, he has been aware of his attraction towards you, so someone else touching him was not as interesting or entertaining. Closing his eyes, he imagined you and no one else, uncaring if the person on the other side was into him.

✧ Barely able to focus on what he was doing, Diavolo suddenly felt a wave of heat coming from the magical object that the other person was using. Diavolo was able to guess what it was about since he overheard a few lower demons talk about this toy once, praising its effectiveness.

✧ One particularity of this magical object was that it was not a one-sided link, even if the attraction was one-sided, the other could still feel it. Another amusing thing was that if the other person was always attracted to them, the pleasure could be multiplied by two.

✧ At the same moment, he understood what it meant when the pleasure spiked up, the link was created and the pleasure followed accordingly.

✧ Diavolo was attracted to only one, which could only mean one thing… It was you.

✧ After the truth hit him, he started to enjoy himself even more. While keeping his composure, he sat down more relaxedly, spreading his legs and bashing in the attention. He knew Barbatos would come to check on him soon, so he kept the noises in, remaining serious and fake focused.

✧ After his loyal butler left, his mind stopped functioning, as he whined under his breath, pushing his fingers into his mouth to muffle them. His legs shook violently as he felt his core tighten, his stomach burning, his hole clenching around nothing while inhaling sharply.

✧ Diavolo came embarrassingly fast, biting onto his hand to silence himself, definitely not wanting Barbatos to hear him. His eyes rolled back, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he painted the inside of his pants white.

✧ Calming down, he only thought about one thing… you. Diavolo needed to see you, soon.

✧ The next day, he was on his way to the House of Lamentation, desperate to have a word with you. Yet, it was not noticeable on his face, he couldn't let himself show how much he was missing you. Lucifer opened the door for him, and he tried to cut the polite small talk short, not wishing to waste more time.

✧ As he went to the first floor, he caught you discussing with Asmodeus, which seemed entertained and could not stop giggling. Diavolo listened amused as you externalized your amazement for the recent toy you bought in a dubious sex shop.

✧ Both of you froze when you heard someone clearing their throat, turning to see a serious Diavolo. Asmodeus flew away as fast as he could, sensing the tension between you two. And even though he was curious, he wasn't ready to die yet or piss off Diavolo, which seemed rather possessive around you.

✧ Embarrassed by his strong gaze, you tried to leave quickly, apologizing for being in his way but Diavolo stopped you. Ordering you to stay here as he had to talk with you, urgently.

✧ You thought you were in huge trouble until he murmured in your ear that you should check what you buy exactly, and the details about it. In a low and deep voice, he told you that the item you bought was enchanted, and was created to perceive the user's feelings, creating a link between the person they fantasize about and the object.

✧ The message was explicit, and you got it immediately, not knowing if you were going to be scolded or if he was just telling you. Your question was answered just after, as he smirked at you and told you that he had nothing urgent to do for the next few hours. Seeing your doubt, he said he dismissed Barabtos for the afternoon and the poor butler needed a break anyway.

✧ Without wasting a second, his arm was wrapped around your waist, and he led you away. When Lucifer asked what was happening, he mentioned that he had unfinished business with you and had to bring you back to the Demon Lord's Castle for the rest of the day, explaining that you will stay there the same night.

✧ To say you were exhausted and almost did not sleep was an understatement, your body was aching, and your energy has been drained out of you. Diavolo acted as if nothing happened, but his legs were shaking as he walked, he almost gasped when he saw down on a chair, and his back was screaming for help.

✧ You ended up spending the next few nights there, ignoring the brothers' complaints.

✧ You and Barbatos were not in a relationship, but you were close enough to share some intimate touches and thoughts. As a well-known sorcerer in the Devildom, it was not rare for you to visit Diavolo, and you ended up getting closer to Barbatos at the same time.

✧ After a good evening spent with Diavolo, drinking and partying, you had no idea how it happened, but you woke up next to Barbatos. Since then, your relationship has been more intimate, but both of you never bothered to find a label.

✧ One thing was sure, Barbatos' duties towards Diavolo would always come first despite your closeness. But it may happen sometimes that he would push his duties to the side to have some fun, at least if it did not impact his work or responsibilities.

✧ Barbatos tend to not take care of his needs, but after that night with you, he couldn't help but be more needy and frustrated than usual. That led to him trying to finish his work faster to see you, but it was almost impossible, so he found another option.

✧ On a calm afternoon, sitting in the garden of the Demon Lord's Castle and enjoying the perfect tea that Barbatos would prepare, the butler surprised you before you left. He did not say much, only gave you a bag and asked you to use the item inside the same evening after 9pm.

✧ You didn't expect to find a champagne-pink fleshlight, covered in magical seals and marks you could not recognize. On a small piece of paper, was written who could use this item and who could feel it, with a seal covering the back. Barbatos' name was already scribbled onto it, so you added yours, and the paper burned, reduced to ashes within seconds.

✧ A small noise was heard, and you watched with wide eyes as the inside of the fleshlight changed, the whole colour of the item changing to a light tone. You had no idea how advanced was this thing, but you were extremely curious to learn how reactive and useful it was.

✧ Glancing at the clock, it was already 9:30, so you guessed that you could test it now. You wondered if it was really working, but you'll get your answer the next day since you needed to review some details about the Royal Academy of Diavolo.

✧ Without wasting a second, you grabbed a lube and almost delicately squirted it inside the toy, humming in amusement as the inside closed, swallowing the fluid. Knowing the demons of the Devildom, and especially demons of lust, you knew preparation with this kind of item was not needed, as you put it to great use immediately.

✧ Meanwhile, Barbatos was serving dinner for Diavolo when he felt it, the fluid sliding inside his hole, cold and thick. A shiver went up his spine, but he had to hide it from Diavolo, he could not let him see his reactions to such an act.

✧ He knew he gave you a certain time, but he didn't expect you to be so enthusiastic, and jump to it immediately. Within the future that he saw, it was the less probable one, and yet, here he would be fucked soon and just in front of the man he was serving.

✧ His grip tightened on the plates, making sure to not drop any as he felt something thick inside of him, slowly loosening him and pushing past the resistance. A moan almost sneaked through his lips when he felt your tip graze that spot, rubbing against it teasingly.

✧ For a second, he prayed that Diavolo would let him go fairly rapidly, so he could take care of that aching need growing inside his pants. How many times did you make him do impossible things for a demon… it was starting to get annoying. You made him pray, also hope Diavolo would give him a break, space out while working, just like he was doing just now.

✧ Feeling Diavolo's gaze on him, he acted as if nothing happened, hoping the way his cheeks were heating up was not too visible. Barbatos didn't miss the amused smirk Diavolo sent him before dismissing him, telling him that he could take his evening, while oh-so-close to laughing as he did.

✧ He left slowly, trying to not make him more humiliated than he already was, shuddering as he felt you move. As you went slowly, he was so thankful that you gave him time to adjust to the sensation, and possibly isolate himself before picking up the pace.

✧ In the middle of a corridor, only a few steps away from his room, he felt you slam back into him with so much force he had to lean against the wall. Panting, each step Barbatos took was more difficult than the other, he was suffocating in the intense pleasure and how quick his orgasm was coming.

✧ Now rushing to his room, he slammed the door and sat on the ground, forgetting every manner. He didn't even undress the slightest before starting to jerk off, throwing his head back with a loud bang. Swearing and cursing himself for not buying this item before, his grip tightened around his dick, moans turning into whines as he felt precum coat his fingers.

✧ His heart was beating wildly in his chest, so strongly he thought it wanted to jump out and escape. Minutes flew by, and he lost track of time, not knowing for how long he has been here or how many times he came. His hand was drenched, the front of his pants was ruined, his usual clean and serious demeanour was ravaged.

✧ Barbatos was a mess.

✧ Completely lost in the pleasure, he did not feel the power surging through his veins, hands glowing as a portal appeared in front of him.

✧ As your thrusts got messier, lube and precum getting fucked out of the fleshlight, your mind became blank. In the dark of your room, you suddenly saw a bright light, and you disappeared within it.

✧ That's how you found yourself on a bed, Barbatos' bed, naked and still using the toy he gave you. You froze on the spot, staring at a blushing and oh-so-close Barbatos, who certainly did not expect to have made you come here.

✧ There was a moment of silence, none of you moved, both from embarrassment while your lower stomach was still burning in desire. It took you by surprise, and you had no idea what you were supposed to do, so you take off the fleshlight. Barbatos whined loudly and glared at you, waves of frustration radiating out of him.

→ “Fucking stay inside.”

✧ The way Barbatos gasped when you slid back in was especially sinful, and how the fake walls tightened around you was vicious and outrageous. You stared at each other with wide eyes, and slowly, you drew back before plunging back in, watching as Barbatos' back arched with a loud moan.

✧ Before you could comprehend his movement, he was in front of you and holding your face, kissing you messily. He ordered you to move, holding the fleshlight for you while you thrusted up, driving Barbatos insane. While being fucked open, he had to focus on holding the item right, so you could hit the most perfect spot, sometimes changing the angle just to test how it would feel.

✧ You don't know how long it lasted, nor how many times both of you came, your brain stopped functioning after the second orgasm. The only thing that you remembered was the pleasure paralysing your members, the glint of lust and craziness in Barbatos' eyes as he kissed you.

✧ With a smirk, he murmured into your ear that he will join you in a few minutes. And before you could understand, a light blinded you, and you were back in your room in the Cocytus Hall.

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

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httpsleclerc · 6 months

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☾you've got a 9 to 5☽

in which sebastian and his ex-wife are still in love with each other

c/w: angst, mentions of an absent father (not intentionally), divorce

w/c: 1k words

based on this request

You hated that you still loved your ex-husband, your first love, your first everything - He was everything to you. You had taken the heartbreaking decision to file for divorce from Sebastian when he had signed for Aston Martin, you couldn't bare to spend more time alone than you already did due to the nature of his care, as much as it broke your heart to make the decision that you did, you knew that you had to; otherwise you would end up in a vicious cycle of loneliness, spending nights upon nights sleeping in what felt like an empty bed without your husband.

You sighed as you sat down on the couch, the days events finally catching up with you since you didn't have a minute to rest. Between work and your other commitments, you found yourself rarely having a moment to yourself these days - and it was on these days you found yourself missing Sebastian, missing the way that he would make all your worries disappear in an instant and missing the immense comfort he provided. As if adding salt to the wound, you turned the TV channel from some kids channel and you saw his face.

Up upon the podium stood your ex-husband, his trademark mile wide grin on his face as he held the first place trophy, raising it up above his head in celebration. Watching him broke your heart all over again, you remembered his red bull days when you were both young, head over heels in love with each other, barely married and dumb with love - He dedicated every podium win to you, claiming that you were his good luck charm wherever he was, even if you couldn't be with him. You felt your eyes welling up with tears as you watched him pop the bottle of champagne, of course the first race you managed to watch following your divorce, he would win, just your luck, right? Right.

For some reason, you felt like torturing yourself even more than you already were by even just watching the race, and decided that you would watch the post-race interviews, just because you felt like driving the knife already deep in your heart, in even further. You watched Sebastian talk with an interviewer about how the race had gone, how he felt about winning.

"And it was never any secret that you always dedicated your podiums to your wife, Y/N, is that still something you do?" You felt your heart stop at the question. You and Sebastian had been very quiet about your divorce and had managed to keep it under wraps, neither of you wanted something as heartbreaking and difficult as this out in the world, no, that was your business, no one else's. Sebastian gave a nervous chuckle and then a smile, he knew he had to be honest, and he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, hoping that if you were watching that you would see how sincere he was being.

"Yes of course, I love Y/N very much," He stopped there for now, feeling himself well up at the fact that he still held so much love for you, yet his career had driven you away from him. He understood though, your decision had torn you apart and you knew that he loved you, you just couldn't handle him being gone more than he was around. "I dedicate this, and every podium to her, I love her so much." Sebastian smiled, tears in his eyes as he finished up with the interviewer.

You couldn't hold it together any longer, feeling your strength dissolve, you burst into tears at his confession - He still loved you and probably always would. Over your crying, you missed the sound of the footsteps coming towards you, only looking up when you felt two small hands patting your hair.

"Mama?"

You looked up at your daughter, who was her fathers spitting image - curly blonde hair, the same stunning blue eyes, she was all Sebastian.

"You okay?" Her small voice was laced with concern as she saw your tear stained face, a small pout on her face as she feared what had upset her mama. You sniffled as you nodded, lifting her up for her to be sitting on your lap, leaning on your chest.

"I'm okay, baby, I promise," You assured her, smoothing her hair down. "You're not sleepy, huh? Too much sugar at your birthday party I think, princess," A small smile graced your face at her small giggle and the shake of her head. "Mhm, yeah, I think so."

"No, mama," She replied, giggling as you tickled her sides. You swore hearing your little girls laughter almost made you forget how much you missed her father. "Why wasn't papa at my party, mama?" She turned her big blue eyes up at you, a sad pout on her face at the absence of her beloved papa from her 5th birthday party. You swallowed the lump in your throat that appeared at the sudden emergence of her question. "Did he not want to be there?"

"No, Meine Liebe, your papa had a race this weekend, but I promise you when he gets back on Monday he'll here to pick you up and you get to spend the whole week with him, doesn't that sound fun?" You told her, watching as she perked up a little at the mention of getting to spend a whole week with her father. "He is really sorry that he couldn't be there today, honey, he can't help it." First you were making excuses for him to yourself, and now you were making them to your daughter, the tiny human that you had created together.

"I miss him, mama," She said, giving you a tired yawn as she rested her head on your shoulder, sleepiness finally catching up with the small girl. You sighed sadly.

"I know, I miss him too baby girl."

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 angst #sebastian vettel x reader fluff #sebastian vettel x reader angst #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader #dad!Sebastian Vettel #formula one x reader

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pureastrologywisdom · 4 months

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𝔄𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬 𝔒𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 - 𝔖𝔶𝔫𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔶 𝔈𝔡𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

Something I haven’t seen talked about a lot is the north node in synastry. The north node helps us connect with our higher selves. Having aspects in synastry with other planets can show how someone can aid us in our journey, as a comrade or teacher figure. This synastry makes the north node person feel deeply understood by the planet person. This can be difficult sometimes as the planet person can reveal things to the north node person that they need to work on in order to fulfil themselves. You do need a tight orb with this aspect!

Moon conjunct mars creates a spicy relationship! There is an instant attraction, and this creates an intensity to the connection. Very fiery. Often the dynamic is that the mars person wants to protect the moon person. They are both trying to provide a safe space for each other in different ways. Think fit as the mars person being like ‘I will burn the whole world for you and destroy anyone or anything that hurts you’, whereas the moon person just wants to be a comforting and safe space for the mars person. The softer aspects have a pretty good time with this one, but if you have a hard aspect between the two your relationship could be quite turbulent at times

I have found that people who have the same Planetary house placements can can have similarities. We know that if someone has the same moon sign they will be similar, but I have also seen how people who bae a different moon sign but in the same house within their charts are similar too for example, both having the moon in their 9th house.

Another thing is if people have planets or luminaries in the same modality they can share similar traits. For example people who both have fixed rising signs and a Mutable sun. Obviously the sign and house is the first thing you look at, but this can add an interesting flavour.

Sun - Jupiter synastry adds a liveliness to the relationship. It’s rare that you will get bored in this connection, even when doing nothing together it’s exciting, which is very sweet.

I would love to know if you have experienced any of these!

Pureastrowisdom x

#astro notes #astrology #astrology blog #astro observations #astroblr #astro community #love astrology #synastry astrology #astrology observations #astrology opinions #moon synastry #mars synastry #north node #jupiter aspects #sun synastry #synastry #synastry chart #astro placements

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iamallergictopeanuts · 1 month

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why is the tcc so rude. why have they become so rude. I feel like its now a community of edge lords, rather than people who understand the bust in alleviation through the internet. that’s what made the tcc so great. stop being judgemental on a platform where we’re all meant to be care free. now the tcc is just a mirage, when you first join it’s like everybody understands you, people you can look up too. But then they become all mean n judgemental, and in an instant your back to restricting yourself, to become the perfect carbon copy. I think we should quit calling each other “cringe”, or “new gen” because come on now, we’re praising fucking mass murderers here, why should being cringe or new gen even matter at this point?? the only thing that makes you a new gen is thinking you have the right to ruin a such a comforting community. This shit community was my only fucking escape from reality and all you pathetic losers ruined it for me. you dumb bitches were the only fuckers that actually understood me, and now I’m the weird one?? What the fuck??

I cant even kill myself with a gun anymore cause it’s not original, now I have to find some weird ass gymnastics move to do while I’m hanging myself, while painting the Mona Lisa with my fucking toes, with a gun clenched in my ass-cheeks and my only way of pulling the trigger is by farting, and the gun HAS to be pointing at a kitten because apparently I’m not edgy enough if I won’t kill a kitten , CAUSE THATS ALL THE FUCKING TCC CARES ABOUT NOW. HOW EDGY YOU ARE?? THE WORST FUCKING PART IS THAT I WOULD KILL THE KITTEN, BUT SAYING THAT I WOULDNT KILL THE KITTEN WAS MY ONLY WAY OF GETTING MY POINT ACROSS, THAT ALL THE TCC FUCKING CARES ABOUT IS HOW EDGY YOU ARE. ITS PATHETIC!!!! oh and you also have to have 911 on the phone, so your last words will have good audio quality!! But you also gotta do it on an Instagram live stream, so that way you’ll get posted onto wpd and twitter, oh and you can’t forget to do THIS and do THAT AND ALL THIS USELESS FUCKING SHIT BECAUSE THE TRUTH IS THAT THIS STUPID COMMUNITY IS MAKING ME SEEK VALIDATION AFTER DEATH AND ITS PATHETIC.

in conclusion quit being a judgemental pain in the fucking ass. The tcc isn’t another biased society where you can express your half assed opinions. Judgemental fucks.

#tcc tumblr #tcctwt #teeceecee #columbine 1999 #dylan columbine #dylanklebold #eric columbine #tccblr #academy maniacs #artyom anoufriev #nikita lytkin #rebandvodka #reb vodka #im going to kms

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paymechildsupport · 21 days

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Redeemed!Bully!Satoru Gojo x AMAB!Reader // "Gonna give you a Real Reason to Cry.."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

-He was a huge fucking asshole to you and he knows it, -- now he'll do anything to make things right again, -- and he means anything.

(I will die on the "Gojo shows heavy signs of autism" hill and I will defend it with my life)

-!! CW: Themes of bullying, harassment, -- ANGST, --> to hurt + comfort --> to smut

-!! Slight dacryphilia ; mention of overstim ; semi-public --> pretty public sex ; body worship

-!! Reader is implied [AMAB] --> having male genetalia, but of course you may use your own creative freedom for it to fit your pref. better (ex. strap- on, dildo(?), etc).

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ * 。° 。 • ˚《

Satoru has always been the cocky type: instinctively putting himself on a pedestal above everyone

His days at Jujutsu Tech were when the golden snowy haired blue eyed little brat excelled, his easy victories and impressive fights gassing his ego up to astronomical levels

Of course, it gets quite lonely at the top; no one could understand Satoru, no one could understand why he was the way he was— why he was so discontent at the very top. He was so untouchable he was unable to properly keep in touch with his humanity— his humility— both figuratively and literally with that damned infinity of his

Then he met you, Second Year of Jujutsu Tech, and the first time in his life where Satoru felt threatened. It was as if you could see right into his soul,— you saw him, you understood him,— and you absolutely terrified him. You were the only person who could genuinely touch him, touch his heart— his mind, and empathize with the all powerful sorcerer. For the first time, Satoru felt vulnerable

You were dangerous, powerful, the fact you could somehow be up to par with the mindset of such a divine being like him meant you were compitetion. A rival. You could take everything away from Satoru; his distance from society, the ‘strongest’ facade he put up,— his place as the “strongest” entirely. Without that, Satoru had nothing— if you somehow surpassed him, he’d have nothing, he’d be nothing. There was only one solution in Satoru’s mind: you needed to be stopped, he had to beat you, at any cost.

How dare you be so cocky, so arrogant: asking him if he was ‘alright’ or if he needed someone to ‘talk to’. How dare you mock him like that. Shame on you, for telling him it was okay to show his emotions, to be openly vulnerable. He saw right through your guise, — he knew you only meant harm. He was not to be so easily fooled by your charms. You were a stuck up pain in the ass, trying to get him vulnerable all so you could swoop in and attack. You thought you were so strong, huh? You thought you were sooo much better than him? He oughtta remind you of your place, he ought to re-establish himself as the “Strongest”, show you that you weren’t all that hot shit you claimed to be.

And he did just that: every little mistake,— every lil’ slip up,— every lil’ wrong step or wrong word and he’d be on you in an instant. He was unreasonably cruel, berating and belittling,— telling you how “worthless” you were or how “absolute shit of a sorcerer” you were. He tormented you for the next two years, reminding you of exactly where you belong,— gravel, beneath his feet. And like gravel, he’d stomp and tread on you, spit and swear at you,— treat you like the tiny, insignificant thing you were. Think you’re hot shit for sympathizing with him? Satoru would make you regret the day you ever got the gual to walk up to him and ask about his “feelings”

But you’d just smile; after all that,— all those insults and snide remarks, the cruel words and name- calling, you’d just sit there and take it. And you had the audacity to fucking smile at him, to pretend to be patient and ‘understanding’. It made Satoru sick to his stomach,— the higher ups and teachers wouldn’t do shit. They’d never do anything to somehow anger the all powerful Satoru Gojo— no one would ever help you. You were all alone… and fucking still… you just looked at him with that STUPID. FUCKING. KINDNESS that choked his heart every. Single. Time. In your eyes.

He was going to fucking ruin you. By the time he was done, Satoru would make sure you’d be valued as less than the dog shit beneath his boot. He’d double down on his belittlements,— why wasn’t that working? He’d just insult you more,— tell you how damn horrifying you were how horrid you were to look at with the way you made his heart want to beat out of his chest and his face heat up, his entire body shaking, craving your attention like a drug,— what the actual SHIT was going ON?! Fine then, he’d just compare himself to you more: shame you for how you barely made it out alive scrapping with the dozen curses Satoru easily slaughtered with a flick of his fingers. You were a dead man, you hear him? A gorgeous fucking drop dead fleshblag of a—

Wait… we’re those.. tears? Were you crying? … no, nonononono no no… why were you crying? No, it shouldn’t have happened like this… no no no no no no, NO! Look at him goddamnit, say something. Don’t just stare up at him with those… defeated, teary eyes,— lip quivering, face flush, body racking with silent sobs… fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Those tears fucking ended him— Satoru couldn’t bear to see you cry.. couldn’t bear with the idea that he was the thing to make you cry. It felt like his heart, which always in the end belonged wholly and solely to you,— was ripped from his chest, squeezed and shattered. He reached out to wipe those god awful tears from your face, only for you to flinch, flinch from him.

You had looked right through into his heart: his ugly, worm eaten heart, and coveted it with such reverence, even when it bared its teeth, snarling and biting your flesh. And what could Satoru do in return when presented so lovingly to your heart? He killed it. Shattered it. Chocked it,— blew it up into oblivion.

Now, there really was an infinity of space between the two of you, and Satoru felt alone, truly alone,— because with you he was never really alone, not like now. Not when he so ferociously chased you away.

You’d given everything to Satoru, and he fucked shit up. Now, with you pushed away, with Satoru the most distant he’s ever been from humanity,— now: he as willing to do anything to fix it— to mend your heart. He’d do anything,

... ANYTHING.

—————————

Now as an adult, and as a teacher at Jujutsu Tech himself, Satoru is grown. Matured.

Every night he’d visit you, and just about every night he’d be rejected.

But on those few nights you did let him in, seeing the pitiful look in his eyes, the slight quiver in his lip, the ever so slight glisten of a tear— he was totally and completely yours. Like a sad puppy, he’d just sit there at your feet, whimpering, uttering apology after apology, each and every one from the heart

He’d offer to provide for you: buying lavish things and offering the finest dinners. But, you weren’t one to be bought out— which you told firmly to Satoru, who’d then instead offer to cook for you, clean for you,— love and praise you. Breathlessly whispering everytime you stole the air from his lungs how handsome you were,— how beautiful,— how absolutely ethereal you were,— even with the scars you’d had acquired from your years in sorcery. Something he’d shame you for in the past, tell you how they showed your weaknesses, the same man only a year later on his knees for to worship

The nights would become more frequent, and soon every time the sun would descend and fall from the sky, Satoru would come pawing at your door.

He’d get down on his hands and knees, crawling to you, like some kind of dog,— his legs shaking like a pathetic mutt’s. The so called “Strongest” sorcerer would sink to his knees and grovel, beg for your forgiveness,— for even the tiniest minuscule fraction of your time, for you to just look at him,— look him in the eyes, pay attention to him. You wouldn’t even need to touch him, Satoru would begin to sob, crying as tears streaked down his pale cheeks.

He's naked, completely bear and vulnerable in front of you,— physically unable to seperate himself even if he wanted to, his infinity weak. You owned him, the cockiest, most powerful and revered sorcerer a messy, sniffling wreck at your feet. Sometimes he’d come in bloody, the guts of his enemies still dripping from his snowhite face. Bloodstained hands trail up your body, wet lips placing the gentlest of kisses up your thighs. His big, beefy arms wrapped around your waist, head in your lap, mouth tracing and kissing wherever you’d allow him.

Only when he’s fully submitted, laying himself completely vulnerable before you,— physically and emotionally, would you finally touch him,— take him.

Just like all the way back when,— you’d give him a reason to cry: bending him over your kitchen counter, the dining room table, the fucking balcony of his apartment— you’d bury yourself deep inside, rolling hips filling him up with your seed,— relishing in his breathy whines and whore-ish moans:

-----☆。*。☆。

“G-gah-! Ngh-!.. b-baby— what if they s-..see us??!” Satoru groaned, back arching like a porn star while you continue to hit him from behind.

“G-good… le-let them.-“ you ground out, struggling to pound into him with the way Satoru’s ass clenches desperately around your cock, “f..-fuck ‘Toru, — yer’so tight-! Aha.. -ha-.. relax.”

“M’ sorry-! Ya just feel… so-so ..good! MMM~! Yeah, just like th..-that-!! G-god..- I can feel you baby! So good, so good!!—“

You choke him off, grabbing his legs and forcefully spreading his plush ass cheeks, drilling into the new opening with a renounced vigor.

Satoru fucking squels, hands flying forward onto the balcony railing. You bend him forwards, sending his front off the side entirely, cackling at the way his perfect, naked body shakes violently from the cold. You’re still halfway dressed, a button up concealing your chest and a tie to keep yourself professional.

“Mmm..- don’t like the cold?” You coo, relishing in the way he clenched harder around you, desperately trying to milk your cock for additional heat. “Louder. ‘Taro. Let them hear, let them all see you absolutely whoring yourself out,— let them see how pathetic you look around my cock—“

He whines pathetically, having already came twice before while inside, overstimulation on the horizon

You snake an arm around his torso, propping him up more, fingers gliding over his muscular chest.

He screams when you squeeze his nipple, the cold biting the stub solid. You chuckle,— always loving how sensitive he was around his chest area,

“Good boy, look at you,— taking my cock so well~ what a beautiful sight for the neighbors you are, so pretty, face already looking so dumbed by my dick”

Satoru moans, ass bucking against your pelvis as you pinch his nipple again. He’s beyond words at this point, having fully lost all sense of self a while ago. He looks every bit the fucked out little whore he was,— your pretty lil’ boy toy. You snicker, starting your thrusts up again, knowing you coming in his ass would bring him back down more than anything

Not missing the way his hardened cock started leaking again, him half-mindedly humping the air, you take him on your fist, suddenly jerking him back to his body.

He tenses so hard you’re surprised his muscles don’t snap entirely. You pump his cock mercilessly, hungrily awaiting that wave of white cum. Satoru releases with a scream, bending over the railing.

“Fuck, ‘Toru, that might be your biggest load yet”

He heaves, sobbing as his dick twitches painfully, the last of the warm liquid pooling onto the balcony floor. You come near after, filling him full of your seed.

You look down, admiring your work; Satoru panting like a dog, eyes rolled back so far he was seeing heaven. He takes shuddering breaths, accidentally skipping a beat when you pull out, cum dripping out of his ass. You keep him upright, lest he fall head first over the balcony railing.

You bend down, placing a gentle kiss onto his neck, licking the sheen later of sweat accumulated on his skin, savoring the salty taste.

You take satisfaction in knowing only you can reduce Satoru to such a state,— not even his torment from your student years putting you in such a pathetic position.

You’d given him a perfectly good reason to cry.

And you weren't even done yet,

“You wanna pay me back from how you treated me like shit in high school, yeah?”

Satoru nods vigorously, unable to really do anything else, and you chuckle,

“Good boy, I’m not remotely done with you yet…”

The arousal mixed with pure fear in his eyes is enough to have your cock hardening again.

—————--- ☆。*。☆。

[A/N]: Istg Gojo is so fun to write for he's my favorite blue eyed king

I absolutely ADORE how @yunymphs writes Gojo, ONGGGGGG HOLY JAJAHSHHSHHS had me FERAL reading that smut between Gojo and a crying reader and it inspired me to write this so thank you so much for the yummy food, @yunymphs !! <33

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frvnkcastles · 4 months

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hello my love!!! i was wondering if i could request a fic with a reader who finds it hard to accept affection (even though she loves and craves it), especially in public getting super embarrassed and thinking everyone is staring and judging because why would someone like FRANK be with someone like them??? but frank is just determined at all times to show how much he cares and knows to respect boundaries but also how to push back a little and open the reader up to accepting open affection more. idk if that makes sense? i'm sorry if it doesn't

WITH MY TUNNEL VISION ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You struggle with affection, but Frank is determined to give it to you.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, anxiety, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.3k

Author’s note: I loved this request so much and I was so worried about not doing it justice, but I tried my best!! I hope you like it :)

Even months after you and Frank had more or less officially started dating, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. He saw himself as someone damaged and broken, but you thought he was the greatest man you had ever gotten to know, and admired him from inside out. He was caring and protective and no doubt easy on the eyes — and most days, you appreciated that wholeheartedly. Some days, you felt insecure. Full of doubt and wonder that he would choose to be with you, and that only heightened whenever you were out in public together.

So, when Curtis and his girlfriend invited you and Frank to a bar for a night out, you were stressed to say the least. You felt completely out of place, like you had no business being by Frank’s side, his arm casually over your shoulders as he laughed at whatever Curtis had just said.

”You okay?” Frank’s deep voice cut through the buzz in your head, and when he ducked down to brush his lips against your forehead, you instinctively dodged — and in an instant, guilt rushed into your system and you could physically feel the air getting awkward. ”Hey, what’s wrong?” Frank added with a frown, unsure where the hesitation was coming from. You had been fine before going out, not a single sign of being mad at him to be seen, and his kisses well-received.

”I’m gonna get another drink”, you evaded the question, and as you turned for the bar, you could feel their eyes on you. That was the feeling you had wanted to avoid — like you were being watched and judged, and here it was, anyway.

You weren’t by yourself for very long. As soon as you were seated by the bar, Frank was following and leaning against the counter to catch your wandering eyes. ”Sweetheart”, he grunted, tilting his head to meet your gaze, ”talk to me.”

Inhaling sharply, you glanced at him before returning your eyes to the bartender mixing your drink. ”You know what’s wrong”, you insisted, but when Frank just stared back at you, you sighed. ”It’s the… affection. Feels weird in public”, you explained further, and with realization dawning on his face, he slowly nodded.

Hell, he hadn’t been the most touchy person, either. But something about you had made it feel safe and secure again, like it was okay for him to be happy and show that to everyone else.

”Baby… ’m sorry, I… shit, yeah, I do remember you mentionin’ that”, he cleared his throat, watching you closely and aching to touch you. ”How come you don’t like it?” Frank wondered with a tone of sincerity, not trying to push your buttons but to understand you better — and as much as you wanted to be frustrated, you understood that.

”I dunno”, you shrugged, but you already knew he wasn’t going to take that for an answer. ”I guess I just feel like people will stare. And—and judge me”, you went on, and with an incredulous chuckle, Frank knitted his eyebrows together.

”Judge you?” he repeated with confusion, and nodding, you drew a generous sip from your drink.

”Yeah, you know, just… you’re… you. And I’m just me. And why would you choose to be with me, right? Everyone can see it. You could do so much better and I swear, if people see you kissing me, they’ll just wonder what you’re doing with me, wasting your time on me”, you rambled, and by the end of your rant, you were flustered and looking around to make sure you hadn’t been too loud. Even now, with Frank only inches away from you, you were sure eyes were on you.

Frank processed your words for a moment. ”Hey, you know that’s total bullshit, right?” he spoke finally, giving you a grave look, his curious smile long gone. ”If anything, people will wonder what a stunner like you is doing with an ugly mug like mine. And even if that were the case, I don’t really fuckin’ care what other people think. You’re my girl, and no one else matters”, he defended you, seething at the mere idea of someone looking at you wrong.

”Did ya see someone starin’? ’Cause you know I’ll fight ’em”, he changed his tone suddenly, glancing around to pinpoint any lurkers, but you quickly placed a calming hand on his forearm.

”I didn’t. It’s just my anxieties, that’s all”, you sighed in defeat, and taking in a breath, Frank turned back to you and nodded.

”And you know it’s all lies, right? Just your head tryna mess with my girl”, he pointed out, and as much as you wanted to justify your fears somehow, you couldn’t help but admit he was right.

”So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna agree on a safeword that you can use if it gets too much. Until you say it, I’mma dote on you ’til you’re spoiled rotten, ’cause I wanna show you how much I goddamn admire you and I don’t really care who’s around to see”, he proposed, and with a smile curving your lips back up, you stared at him in disbelief — here he was proving yet again that he was everything.

”Deal.”

You tried your very best to tolerate the public displays of affection, because truthfully, you wanted them. You craved his touch and his attention, and behind closed doors, you were hungry for it. So you tried to extend the same courtesy out and about, pushing your own limits because deep down you knew he was right about other people not mattering.

And the greatest part was seeing how happy Frank was. You were the first serious relationship he had found himself in since Maria and it had taken him a long time to relearn how to be in one. But slowly, he had unraveled what worked for him and you, and discovered that he really, really wanted to show his girl off.

So whenever you were out, he made sure to hold your hand or have his arm around your shoulders. Every now and then he would lean in to kiss your forehead or cheek, sometimes even lips, and you were learning how to lean in instead of pull away.

A month later you were back at the same bar with Curt and his girlfriend, on a night when it was especially busy. Frank could tell you were nervous, but trusting in the progress you had made together, he kept you close to him.

”So, things are good?” Curtis queried while Frank was getting you a new drink, and with a beaming smile, you nodded.

”Things are great. He makes me really happy”, you chuckled sheepishly, and just in time, Frank appeared from behind you, handing over your drink.

”Who’s the lucky guy?” he grinned, and softly nudging him, you snorted.

And then, as if it was the most natural thing, you thanked him for the drink by giving him a kiss, and as soon as your lips left his, you could see the amazed stare in his eyes. Immediately, you realized what you had done, and you opened your mouth to say something, but panic washed over you and you were rendered speechless.

”No, no, baby, it’s okay. You did good. You did perfectly”, Frank breathed out, his eyes full of love as he leaned down to cup your cheeks and kiss your nose and jaw and forehead. ”No one’s lookin’, I promise. It’s just you and me, right?” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

You caught your breathing and managed a nod, and when you glanced at Curtis and found him preoccupied with his girlfriend, relief washed over you. ”Yeah, it’s okay”, you swallowed when you looked around, confirming that truly, no one cared. No one was judging.

”Love you”, Frank spoke quietly before leaving a kiss right next to your ear, and squeezing his hand, you dropped your head on his shoulder.

”Love you.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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Exactly as you are

Next chapter

a/n this has been sitting in my notes for a while and I was going to delete it but then was like you know what let's just post it. So here we are. 🙃

summary: when two broken souls meet something is bound to happen

warnings: mention of past trauma, sexual assault, forceful behavior, touch aversion, murder.

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You moved around the buzzing club swiftly. Picking up glasses and stopping to listen to new orders being barked at you by already half-drunk males. A light smile on your face, regardless of the tone that people used to order you around. No matter the tone or the words that left their mouths, this was so much better. So much better than what you had been forced to go through in the past. What you had known for so many years. What you had no hope of escaping. There was no hope until a cold stone face showed up in your owner's house.

It was a last-minute decision on Kaz's behalf. One look. It took him one look, and he knew he had to do something. Had to come up with something. Kaz couldn't seem to draw his eyes away from the chains around your hands and ankles as you carried up the tray with whiskey. Eyes empty. It seemed like you didn't even notice him or Jesper in the room as you walked in. Like a possessed creature. Calculated moves. No emotions. And then it was the way your whole body suddenly tensed when the old man moved his hand to run over the curve of your body as he pulled you closer to him. Your eyes darted up. They didn't meet Kaz. You looked past him. But right there and then, Kaz knew that he was going to walk out of this place with you, or he wasn't going to walk out at all. And since the second option didn't please him, he picked the first one.

Three bullets. One for each hand that the old fuck touched you with, and the other neatly placed right in between the eyes. You didn't flinch as the shots rang out. As if this had happened so many times already in your life that you, in a way, were waiting for it. Yet another abuser down in the dirt, with another one ready to claim you. There was not a single word exchanged between anyone afterward. Jesper understood his boss with one glance. Kaz's eyes spoke volumes. The anger seemed different than ever before. More primal. Lingering. In any other situation, Jesper would have said something or teased, but this felt different. Something felt different as he picked you up right as Kaz limped out of the building. Your hand clenched Jesper's shirt as he walked through the dark streets. Jesper, too, realized that something was about to change.

You didn't speak. No matter what any of the crows did, you didn't say a thing. Emotions were rear flashes on your face. At first, only the movement of your eyes scanning the place was a shred of evidence that you were indeed alive. Or it was Nina, who occasionally checked on your heartbeat before nodding to herself. You had no shackles bounding you here. For the first time in years, they weren't weighing on you, but the demons from the past lingered.

"Fill the last glass up, and others will replace you", your eyes darted up in an instant, yet you didn't even need to look to know who the voice belonged to. Nodding your head, you placed the last glass on the table before Wylan disappeared with the tray in his hands. Quickly wiping your hands onto the apron, you moved towards the backroom. Kaz's room. A place where no one was allowed in without a reason. But you were quite a frequent visitor there, and in no way were you complaining.

A glass of water and a warm meal was already waiting there for you, and you couldn't help but feel your heart beat a bit faster. You had heard stories about dirtyhands; you had seen his cunning ways in action. But never with you. Yes, cold and harsh at times. But that's how Kaz was, and you had grown to find comfort in his cold demeanor. Take comfort in the silence that lingered between you two as you sat together.

"I know you haven't eaten, and quite frankly, I am disappointed that you are wasting your potential by starving yourself", Kaz said without paying attention to you as he too sat by the table. You narrowed your eyes at him, shooting him a stare that he was quick to return, but you knew you weren't going to win this, so you stepped closer to the table. This was never a fight you could win. Not with Kaz at least.

In moments like this, you often thought about the first night at the slat and how different everything was now. Jasper had left you in Kaz's room shaking, promising to get the girls to help you bathe afterward. That it was okay, that Kaz just liked to be extra, and that soon it would be over and you could rest. You stood there, clenching your fists, until you heard footsteps from outside. The broken-up pattern lets you know in advance that it is indeed your new owner. Or you assumed that he was going to take full ownership of you just like everyone else had before.

Kaz had hardly stepped through the door when his eyes landed on your shaky hands undoing your skirt, with your top already on the floor. And if he wasn't in some way thankful for the cane before, he sure as hell was now as his eyes landed on your naked, scared body, chest exposed, and his knees seemed to buck. "What are you…", he managed to mutter before quickly turning his gaze to the side. Somehow your face had managed to get paler. "I can turn away if I'm not to your liking", those had been the first ten words that you had said, and they had plagued Kaz's mind ever since.

It wasn't about you or if he found you pretty or attractive. Of course, he did. You were the prettiest girl he had seen. It was the fact that you had assumed that he was just like all the other males. That he was going to use you just the same. That you were here to be the same rag doll. To be tossed around and asked to stay quiet while someone forced you to do things you didn't want to do, "Get dressed and just… sit", Kaz had muttered, leaving the room quickly, pressing his head to the door as he tried to get his breathing steady.

None of you talked about that night. It was never brought up, and in a way, it soothed you. It was strange to you how different Kaz's behavior was behind closed doors. When you sat on his bed with a book in your hands while he looked over new plans and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. When he ushered you into the back room and you would just sit in the chair in front of his desk. It brought you peace because you felt safe with him. It brought peace to Kaz because, for the first time in his life, he didn't feel alone.

Just like Kaz, you hated being touched. It was a different kind of discomfort and fear that laced your body, but still. Touch was something you both avoided. Something that held so much pain and past trauma. As sad as it was, it was something that made you both so much closer. That allowed you to communicate without having to say a word. Kaz finally knew that someone understood. That there was someone who knew how horrible it was to be afraid to the point where you felt like dying. Where there wasn't an ounce of self-control. And even if Kaz wished that he could have saved you from the pain like that, it gave him hope that he wasn't that alone after all.

"I've got something for you", Kaz said casually, while you were in the middle of your stew. You gave him a puzzled look, but he just opened the side drawer and pulled out a neatly wrapped box. It wasn't an unusual thing. Kaz almost always brought little things back for you. Mostly books or some random trinkets. "Don't give me that look", he warned you. Even if all Kaz wanted to do was look at your sparkling eyes. Oh, how he had grown to love seeing your face light up slightly. And just for him. Just because of something that he had done. Because they never sparked like that when you were with others. No, because he had watched you ever since he brought you here.

Pushing the box towards you, he waited for you to take it out of his hands. You blinked a couple of times. Usually, if Kaz was to give you something, he would just push it across the table, but that didn't seem to be the case tonight. You reached out, taking the box, careful not to touch him, waiting for Kaz to tell you what this was about, but he only motioned for you to get going.

So you moved the bowl with stew to the side and pulled on the delicate white ribbon. A breath hitched in your throat, and you quickly drew your eyes back to Kaz, who had a slightly smug smile on his face. "I thought it would suit you well", he said, and you bit the inside of your lip. You had been eyeing the silk hair scarfs for a while. Stumbled across the shop by accident while looking for supplies for Nina. And ever since that day, every time you went out into town, you always walked past it. Stopping to peek through the window. Admire from afar, but never let yourself walk inside. The finest silk was too expensive for you to allow yourself a purchase like that.

You quickly shook your head, right as that thought settled, pushing the box back towards Kaz. "Don't you dare", his tone carried a warning yet was calm. "It's a gift from me. I add bonus pay for the crows after a good job, and you had been working hard in the club, so it's just the same". But it wasn't. You knew it wasn't, and you just couldn't let yourself accept this. So you shook your head once more. Kaz's lips finned out into a tight line. "You are allowed to enjoy things", and when you lowered your eyes, he knew that he had hit the target.

You shied away from things like that. Kaz noticed how you cringed at the sight of fancy clothes. Nina had managed to squeeze you into one of the fancy dresses she enjoyed, and the look on your face was enough to let everyone know just how much you hated it. So Kaz never pushed you. Simple grays or blues, a dash of yellow if the day was good, but nothing fancy, nothing big. And if Kaz was being honest, you didn't need any of it to look breathtaking.

And he had gone out looking for you that first day you had seen the scarfs and had taken way too long for his liking to return home. Kaz saw you with your palm pressed to the glass, looking inside. Even more so, he knew what it was like to want something but not be able to get it, and it wasn't just the material things he was referring to. But you were under his care now. Not his as an object. But his to protect. To keep safe. To make happy.

Kaz watched as your fingers carefully moved to touch the delicate material. He could only imagine what was running through your mind. Too unworthy. Too dirty to enjoy something so delicate. Or maybe you didn't like what he picked. Kaz had only assumed you would like this. Although he had never really gone out and bought anyone anything, then your fingers moved to Kaz's gloved hand, running in the same careful way over his fingers. Not grasping it. Leaving him enough space to move away from your touch.

But he didn't. Kaz's hand did stiffen beneath your touch, but only for a moment, and then his eyes met yours. Slightly glassed over by the tears that had picked up. Eyes that saw him. Saw through him. So Kaz didn't back away, even when the water started to drown him. He turned his attention to your fingers and how carefully you grazed them over the leather of his glove.

"Thank you", the whisper was so quiet, yet Kaz heard it. And if you only knew how much it meant to him. How he had been craving to hear your voice again. But he swallowed the desire and happiness down. Nodded his head and pulled his hand away from under your touch, "Finish the food and go rest".

You quickly wiped the tears away with the back of your hand. Kaz wanted to reach for you again. But a part of him kept him frozen in his chair. Frozen and stuffed in the box of fear. But just now, Kaz could no longer determine if the fear was from the touch itself or if it was because he was afraid that touching you would mean something. That it would mean that he cared. And Kaz Brekker never cared.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone x reader

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cielelyse · 3 months

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Favourite 5 Saezuru Scenes

I recently reread Saezuru for the umpteenth time and just needed to gush about it like a crazed person who constantly hallucinates about Yashiro being happy and soOooOOooo.................

1. Why now? (Chapter 25)

These 3 panels kill me always... although it's the entire chapter 25 actually, and not just these panels. This broke me when I first read it nearly a decade ago, and it breaks me every time I reread it. I recently just listened to the drama CD for the first time and wanted to hear how this scene played out (a.k.a. wanted to hear Yashiro moan wkegh;ghwle) and I did not expect to start bawling and sobbing uncontrollably when his flashback appeared. WITH THE MUSIC AND EVERYTHING. THEY DID NOT SPARE ME. FUCK. What was supposed to be a tender and gentle and loving and intimate scene between them turned into Yashiro facing the effects of his childhood trauma -- that will never cease to hurt me. Doumeki saying "kashira, kashira, kirei" right before that broke me in a way reading that scene in English couldn't. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS and if I keep writing about it I'm gonna cry again so:

2. Car ride back from Kageyama's clinic (Chapter 4)

This is mostly for nostalgic reasons, really. I first read Saezuru in 2013, and I wasn't used to Yashiro at first. I didn't know what to make of him.

So what happened was that I read "Don't Stay Gold" first and was like... there's a manga about this mildly threatening and unreadable yakuza dude who's Kage's friend…? Who played cupid for him in a weird way? HMMMMM dubious, dubious. Would I even like him? It took me a while, but I finally gave Saezuru a shot anyway, and I remember feeling uncertain about Yashiro up until those panels. I remember it so starkly, because this was the instant I fell in love with him. I think it was because this was the first time I understood the depth of his loneliness (since I hadn't read his high school oneshot yet at this point).

There's just something about how Yoneda Kou-sensei draws these kinds of pages that just resonates with me so well. I CAN'T EVEN DESCRIBE IT. It just connects with me the way Yashiro connects with me, and that was pretty much it for me. Obsession sealed. Life signed away. For the next 10 years I would follow the story closely and routinely check every few months for updates. Yashiro became one of my only 3 comfort characters, and rereading Saezuru always gives me a catharsis and sense of peace that I didn't know how to find elsewhere.

3. "To go on living this strained existence... no longer holds any meaning to me." (Chapter 34)

This scene is one that I come back to every time I'm down. AM I A MASOCHIST? I really like the June translation too: "To go on living this strained existence no longer holds any meaning to me." I think the way the panels divided up those thoughts were brilliant!

This especially hurt me because for the entire manga up to this point, Yashiro has stated that he completely accepts himself and he's happy with who he is. It wasn't until his realization during the sex scene with Doumeki and how much he's said/done hurtful things to Doumeki afterwards -- who he considers pure and sweet and good -- that he thinks this.

4. "Falling in love feels like this" (Chapter 33)

The first time I read this, I had to set my PC down, go out to my apartment balcony, and just silently stare out into the night and resist the urge to smoke (that was half a joke) (I did feel a pang in my chest though) (and I did have to fight very hard not to smoke lwkehg;hge). I love the dialogue right after these panels too, when Yashiro said, "Your sister was lucky that you were there." That, along with Doumeki's reaction, hurt.

This was such an intimate scene between them. Yashiro was so vulnerable. So was Doumeki. I hadn't realized this until I reread Saezuru this year, but these two have always had such intimate scenes right from the start. It was a slow burn, yes, but they had always been instantly drawn to each other: Doumeki thinking Yashiro was beautiful and captivating, and Yashiro doing something he doesn't normally do with his subordinates the first time he met Doumeki. And it didn't clue in for me back in 2013, but their conversations with each other were much more intimate than the conversations they'd have with anyone else, right from chapter 1. I find that so precious.

5. Dream (Chapter 40)

I couldn't not include a scene from post-timeskip, BECAUSE I LOVE POST-TIMESKIP. I love Darkmeki and I love Yashiro and I love that the theme of post-timeskip centers around "change". Wish I could include that conversation Yashiro had with Tsunakawa about it, because I thought that drive-home was brilliant. I really appreciate that Yoneda Kou didn't have Yashiro and Doumeki get together right away after they have sex, and I really appreciate that the question was raised of: Do people change? Can people change on their own, or would you have to force them? Or are we always the same at our core? And I think the answer is of course a mixture of all of it, and that it's very much circumstantial and subjective, but I love how we're able to see the shifts in both Yashiro and Doumeki. How both men aren't quite the same people we knew pre-timeskip. Ten years ago I didn't think I would meet a version of Yashiro that wouldn't talk about sex 24/7, but here we are.

(Not to say that they're completely different now. They're still our Yashiro and Doumeki of course; I just wanted to gush about how well Yoneda Kou were able to flesh out her characters in such a complex, multidimensional way.)

ANYWAYS, I went on a rant without even mentioning these panels of Yashiro's dream. I love everything about it: Doumeki's face not showing, Yashiro running away and turning back to see Doumeki not there anymore, and that last panel of him standing in the middle of nowhere, lost and empty and lonely -- all of that was so incredibly told in pages of no words. UGH YONEDA KOU IS A GENIUS. It reminds me of that page of Yashiro looking at a mother and child in the rain; it's one of my favourite scenes too.

Honourary Mention (Chapter 4):

I should end with a more light-hearted one. THIS WAS CUTEEEE. I remember reading this for the first time and thinking Yashiro was just salty that his roleplay got ruined. But upon second reread (and maybe I'm delusional here), I thought he might've been happy to hear Doumeki say that.

We know Yashiro gets angry and irritated whenever he's happy to hear something sweet from Doumeki (like that extra when they ate together LOL), and that he had the same reaction of kicking the chair when Doumeki said he can't touch Yashiro's hair anymore. Which was cute to say. So I thought Yashiro might've lashed out in annoyance because he was glad that Doumeki doesn't mind. (I tried putting myself in Yashiro's shoes so many times trying to imagine how I would feel if Doumeki had said this............. and somehow came up with "happy" xD)

...........or maybe this was obvious to everyone and I've just been clueless. AAAAAAAA THIS IS WHY I LOVE ABOUT SAEZURU SO MUCH. It never spoon-feeds you information and lets its readers interpret :")

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #yashiro #doumeki chikara #囀る鳥は羽ばたかない #twittering birds never fly

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its-all-stardust · 27 days

Text

Sugar || 7

Masterlist || Part Six

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

You open your eyes to morning sunlight streaming through the window and an empty bed. Currently, that’s the norm for you and isn’t unusual. But you distinctly remember Steven crawling into bed with you last night.

There haven’t been any more disappearing acts since the first night he stayed at your apartment, but it’s the first thing on your mind when he isn’t beside you.

Maybe he went back to his room.

Maybe he’s in the bathroom.

Maybe it means nothing. You’re in a foreign country, after all; Steven doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go.

You close your eyes and try to relax, but now you’re just thinking of him having another sleepwalking episode and all the places he could get lost in an unfamiliar country. With that thought in your head, you rip off the sheets and jump out of bed, needing to find Steven and know he’s okay. You don’t care that he’s not in bed with you so long as he’s still here.

The bedrooms and bathrooms are empty.

Notably, Steven’s bed doesn’t look like it’s been touched.

You glance at the living room—still no Steven—and are about to rush toward the door to check the locks when you hear something behind you.

“Oh no. I wanted to wake you,” Steven pouts.

You quickly spin around and find him standing in the doorway to the terrace.

“W-what?” you sputter as you stare, confused.

“I was going to wake you for breakfast.” Steven gestures through the doorway toward the table that is absolutely overflowing with food. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Your shoulders relax, tension flowing out of you. Your heart is steadily slowing down. “Oh, Steven…”

“Are you alright?” he asks, stepping toward you. “You looked scared there for a second.”

You almost feel silly for being so worried. “It’s nothing.” You give a placating smile. “Let me wash my face, and I’ll be right back out.”

Steven’s hand is on your arm before you can step away.

“Talk to me. Please?” Steven asks softly, eyes full of concern.

It’s a strange feeling having your baby ask after you out of genuine concern. It’s not like the others were cold or particularly distant, but most understood the business arrangement…differently than Steven.

He says your name.

“I thought…you might have had another blackout. I was worried when you weren’t in bed,” you finally admit. You usually don’t share your worries with your babies, no matter what they are. You want them to see you as steadfast and confident. Unafraid.

But ever since the start, everything has been different with Steven.

He pulls you to him, his arms wrapping tightly around you. His lips brush against your temple. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Your arms slowly wrap around Steven. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced a role reversal like this. Typically, you’re the one comforting someone, be it friends or family, or babies. You tend to keep things close to your chest and worry over others more than you should. You’re not sure what to make of this.

You love taking care of your babies. It’s the main reason you keep having them. But this—Steven’s arms around you, trying to protect you from your worries—is nice too.

Finally, you settle into him with a sigh. “Don’t take this to mean you shouldn’t tell me if it happens again,” you insist, having a feeling Steven might try to pull something like that.

He pulls away from you enough to look you in the eye. “No secrets, yeah?”

You blink at him, stunned. Something else that’s new for you. A new kind of worry tries to bubble up within you, but you push it down and ignore it.

“No secrets,” you repeat softly.

When he kisses you, you forget how to breathe. Then he guides you onto the terrace, pulls out a chair for you, and starts filling your plate.

As you look at Steven across the table over breakfast, you can’t help but think how lucky you are to have him, to have met him.

An unfamiliar warmth spreads through your chest. Similar to what you’ve felt for him before but…different. You don’t think about what it means.

“What are we doing today?” Steven asks after breakfast, once you’re both ready for the day. He looks you up and down, likely noting that you’re not as made up as you usually are.

“I guess you were half asleep when I mentioned a spa day last night,” you tease.

“What? No! I remember everything you say,” Steven insists dramatically, hand on his heart.

“So you remember how I said how much I wanted to visit the casino before we go back home?” You raise an eyebrow, carefully watching his face for a reaction.

“A-Absolutely, I do,” Steven answers, though his brow is furrowed, confused.

“You liar!” you cry, walking over to poke Steven in the stomach, a grin on your face. “I never said anything like that. It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Steven jumps back, raising his arms to defend himself. “Okay, now that makes more sense. I’m sorry, love.”

You stop your assault and wrap your arms around him instead. “You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. Besides, I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.”

Steven looks at you adoringly. “How did I get so lucky?” he asks softly, more to himself than to you.

“Just by being you,” you answer anyway.

Steven looks away, bashful. “I’m nothing special.”

Taking his chin in one hand, you turn his face back toward you. “Now that’s just not true. Haven’t I taught you better than that?” you lightly scold. There’s no real heat to your words, but you’ve been trying to build up Steven’s self-worth for months.

You pause, thinking for a second. “Do you not believe me because I’m paying you?”

You don’t mean for the words to come out sounding so vulnerable, but they do. It saddens you a little to think that Steven might not be taking your words to heart.

You enjoy it when you get complimented like that, especially since it’s so rare for it to happen because of your professional and financial position and…lack of many close relationships. However sincere you are, you suppose you can understand why Steven would hesitate to believe you.

“No!” Steven argues. “It’s not that I think less of you because of our…relationship. It’s just…” he pauses, taking a breath. “I’m not like you. I’ve never done anything half as remarkable as you. Never started my own company. Never made a vast fortune. I’m just…me. Nothing exciting ever happened to me before I met you.”

That, at least, eases your worries about Steven having doubts about you. You don’t like the way he’s talking, though.

“You don’t have to have changed the world or been on exciting adventures to be remarkable. I like you exactly as you are. And there’s absolutely nothing ‘just’ about Steven Grant.”

Steven’s grip tightens around your waist, and his throat bobs, holding something back.

“Do I need to make you repeat how special you are again?”

He shakes his head, giving you a soft smile. “No.”

Then he’s kissing you, slow and gentle but filled with a seemingly newfound passion. One hand trails up your back, pressing you into Steven’s chest before it stops at the nape of your neck, holding you in place.

Your sense of balance shifts, and you realize Steven is tipping you back slightly. Though you trust he’d never let you fall, you cling to him. In a way, Steven has you trapped, held so tightly you can’t escape if you wanted to.

But you never want to.

If Steven wants to kiss you like this, leaving you utterly breathless for the rest of eternity, you’ll let him.

It occurs to you, then, that you might be a little fucked.

You’ve never seen Steven anything but fully clothed before. He’s never asked or even hinted that he wanted anything else, and you’re more than happy to respect his boundaries. It’s as you said when you explained everything to him in the beginning: you’re not going to force him to do anything and he has to be the one to initiate new interactions.

That is to say, you can’t help but stare at Steven, clad only in the swim trunks you bought for him before the trip. You’ve seen half-dressed men before. Hell, you’ve seen completely naked men before. But the first time seeing an inch of skin of a new partner always excites you.

The two of you had made it to the thermal baths, just a short trip from the hotel. The natural heat of the water was soothing after the brisk morning air, but it was nothing compared to the heat in your face when you saw Steven step out of the changing room.

“And what you are you looking at?” Steven teases. He knows fully well what you’re staring at based on his smirk. You’re not exactly hiding it.

“Just admiring how handsome my baby is and watching the water glisten on his skin.” Steven flushes at that, even though he initiated it. What was he expecting? All you have for him are compliments. Even still, he is stunned by your boldness. You weren’t lying either; untrue flattery never sat right with you.

You’ve held Steven enough times to know he wasn’t exactly hiding much softness under his baggy clothes, but it was still a bit of a surprise to see the bit of defined muscle of his torso and arms. His stomach isn’t overly defined, but you know that cultivated abs are more for aesthetics than strength. You’ve no doubt that Steven is physically stronger than people would guess at first glance, especially when he’s done up as a gift shop clerk.

“If anything, I should be admiring you, not the other way around,” Steven says, cheeks still red.

“Steven, have you been staring at me?” You bring your arms across your chest, acting scandalized.

Steven sputters and averts his eyes even though you’re perfectly decent. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

You float closer to him, careful not to touch him. It would be very bad for you if you did. “Do you like looking at me?”

“Of course I do,” Steven says softly, eyes returning to you, drifting over your form. “You’re beautiful.”

You tell yourself the heat in your cheeks is from the water. It’s always been from the water.

Even though you know you probably shouldn’t, you quietly ask, “Do you like it when I look at you?”

You can’t take your eyes off Steven; at your words, you see his pupils dilate ever so slightly. He nods, lips parted.

“Say it,” you order. You lift one hand, trailing your fingers down Steven’s arm and making him shiver despite the heat engulfing him. You’re treading into dangerous territory. But you can’t help it, and Steven appears…very receptive.

“Yes,” he answers automatically, his eyes never leaving yours.

You drift closer still, now chest to chest, with only a handspan separating you. Your eyes fall to his mouth, your own parting when you catch his tongue quickly darting out to wet his lips.

A splash behind you startles you, sending you surging forward straight into Steven’s chest. His arms automatically raise to hold you, hands resting respectfully on your back, just under your shoulder blades. Suddenly, you’re reminded of where you are: in a public bath, surrounded by people. This is the last place you should be having…thoughts about your baby, who has, so far, expressed zero interest in a more physical relationship.

Even though you’ve had Steven in your arms countless times, it feels different now, with so little fabric separating you from his bare chest. You quickly move away, though you grab his hand as you always do. Even with the heat of the water, he feels different.

Is he warmer than usual?

“Let’s go over here,” you say, shaking the thought from your head and needing to separate yourself from the moment. “There’s fewer people. We should be able to enjoy the water more.”

You start dragging Steven behind you, and he follows along without argument or any words, for that matter. You’re not sure what he’s thinking; you can’t look him in the eye quite yet.

You manage to control yourself and your thoughts enough to enjoy that water. It’s not a regular pool, so there’s no playing or splashing around. Swimming is minimal as the water is only about waist high for the average person.

People are meant to relax in the waters and have a therapeutic experience while the minerals in the water soak into and rejuvenate the skin.

You and Steven sit on one side of the large pool, taking advantage of the built-in underwater ledge that surrounds the entirety of the curved edges. This particular pool is outside, so the two of you are able to enjoy the scenic views that were carefully curated so as not to ruin patrons’ sightlines with modern buildings.

You manage to not think about your hands on Steven’s bare chest.

Eventually, once your skin is primed and supple, you leave the thermal baths to go to your next destination: the spa. Specifically for a couple’s massage and then later a facial for you.

The only thing separating a couple’s massage from a solo one is the simple fact you’re in the same room as your partner. Even more intimate than being in swimming attire together, you’ll be partially undressed, a towel covering your lower half. Granted, you’ll be face down on a table the entire time, but still.

“We don’t have to do it together,” you say when you explain the procedure to Steven. Your appointment is at the hotel’s on-site spa, so you technically don’t have to undress around each other; you get ready in separate bedrooms and just wear your robes down to the spa.

You don’t have an issue being unclothed around your babies. Nudity isn’t inherently sexual, and you don’t consider this a sexual situation. You’re here to relax while a stranger eases the semi-permanent tension from your muscles.

But that’s your perspective, which doesn’t mean it aligns with Steven’s.

“We can always do separate rooms,” you continue, wanting to give Steven every out. Since your relationship hasn’t progressed past kissing, you’re unsure what his feelings will be. Yes, he admitted to staring at you in the pool, but you were still covered then.

“I want to be with you,” he insists. “I’m fine, I swear.” He doesn’t look at you, and his voice is slightly higher pitched than usual. He’s nervous at the very least, but if he says he’s fine, you won’t argue. He’s more than capable of making decisions for himself.

When the two of you are led to the massage room, you purposefully keep your back to Steven as much as possible as you disrobe. Even without the robe, neither of you is completely naked, still having some sort of bottom on. But you have no desire to make Steven uncomfortable with your casual nakedness.

Will he still try to look, though?

A little excited, you crawl onto the table and glance at Steven from the corner of your eye.

You fight the frown that attempts to form when you see he’s already on his table, face carefully set in the opening at the top and arms obediently at his sides.

Then there’s a knock on the door, and you have no choice but to lie down.

“Do you get massages often?” Steven asks you as the masseuses begin. You’ve been together for months, but this could just be something that hasn’t been brought up before.

“Not as often as I would like,” you sigh as your masseuse works out a particularly stubborn knot from your shoulder. “I feel like I never have the time, so I always book one whenever I go on a trip. Have you ever had one?”

“No,” Steven manages before letting out a satisfied groan.

What part gets him to make that sound?

“Sorry,” he says, and you think he’s apologizing to his masseuse. “More tense than I thought.”

After a moment and another unexpectedly pleased sound from Steven, he addresses you. “You know, love, you could—” He abruptly cuts himself off, the airy tone to his voice suddenly gone, as if he’s coming back to himself.

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t, and with your head down and forced to look at the floor, you’re unable to read his body language.

“I could what?” you prompt, confused.

“It’s nothing.” The answer comes quickly.

You almost ask if he’s sure, try to encourage him to finish his thought, but as hands glide over your back, you change your mind. It’s possible that whatever Steven meant to say is for your ears only.

The rest of the appointment passes in relative silence with only a pleased sigh from you here and there. You keep your ears open, hoping for something else from Steven, but he doesn’t let out another sound.

In other situations, that just wouldn’t do.

Stop it.

You would shake yourself if you could.

Once the massage is over, your mind buzzes more than it usually does after what is supposed to be a relaxing session. Steven is constantly bouncing around your mind today, and a part of you knows that isn’t necessarily a good thing.

You want to scold yourself for your mild obsession with your baby. One-sided attachments that go too deep always end badly.

But is it one-sided? He wants you to meet his mother, after all.

“Love?” Steven calls, pulling you from your thoughts. You’ve been standing with your back to him, staring off into the distance since you got off the table.

“Sorry, just thinking,” you say, finally turning to face him. Your eyes immediately lock onto his swollen lower lip. Reaching up, you run your thumb along it. It’s flushed red and has definitely been bitten. “I know I didn’t do that.” You look at him, eyebrow raised.

Steven flushes, his cheeks matching his lip. “I was trying to be quiet,” he answers softly. Likely embarrassed by the sounds he was making, you muse.

“You poor thing.” You keep rubbing your thumb along his lips. Then, as if hypnotized, you can’t think of anything else besides kissing him.

So you do.

You aim only for his lower lip, pressing gently against it as if to soothe a hurt.

“All better?” you ask when you pull away.

Steven nods, and your hand falls from his face to land on his chest, where you bury it in the fluffy fabric.

“I have my facial next. Do you want to try one?” You’re genuinely curious. Maybe he wants to get into skincare. Your eyes scan his face, pinpointing potential treatment areas.

“I’m not sure that’s for me,” Steven says, taking your free hand and leading you toward the door.

“Okay. Are you going to relax in the room then?”

“I dunno. Maybe I’ll do a little shopping while you’re busy.”

“Make sure to buy yourself something pretty,” you say as you and Steven are about to part ways. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand before leaving.

“Today wasn’t too boring for you, was it?” you ask Steven. Now after dinner, the two of you are in your usual place: lounging on the couch.

Even though you plan these vacations based on your preferences, you still want your babies to have fun. Steven enjoyed the park and the impromptu visit to the bookshop yesterday, but some men would rather be caught dead than go on a spa trip.

It may be the standard that sugar babies create a character that’ll please their mommy or daddy rather than be their true selves one hundred percent of the time, but you want Steven in particular to be entirely honest with you.

“Not at all! I don’t think I’ve ever been so relaxed, to be honest,” Steven answers. He’s at one end of the couch while you’re at the other, both of your legs up on the cushions and tangled together. He knocks one foot into your tight. “I would have told you before we did anything if I wasn’t interested.”

He did bow out of getting a facial, but that was almost a given. It would have been more surprising if he had said yes. A baby lying about certain things is expected. They do what they have to in order to keep their jobs.

“Are you sure? Because aside from today, you’ve never told me no before.” You never questioned it, but now you can’t help but think there’s a chance you’ve misread something or done something wrong.

Before you had money, finding people interested in the same things as you or doing certain activities you favored was few and far between. Making and maintaining friends can be a difficult endeavor. And now that you do have money, anyone new in your life is expecting more higher-class activities than walking through a park. Sure, that park may be in Germany across from a very nice hotel, but it’s still a park, and finding amiable friends is even harder now.

Steven laughs. “Alright, if you really want, I’ll get a facial.” You smile at his teasing, but he must see something in your expression. “I always say yes because I like spending time with you. I like the things we do together. You once said you’d never make me do anything I was uncomfortable with, and you never have.”

He then untangles his legs from yours and gets off the couch, only to step toward you and sit by your hip on the edge of your cushion. He takes your hands in his. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I am when I’m with you. And just because you pay me,” he says it flippantly, like it doesn’t matter at all. Like it isn’t why he’s doing this. “Doesn’t mean I’d let you walk all over me.”

“What about Donna?” you can’t help but ask. Steven’s words are sweet; they make your heart race, but you find them hard to believe.

Steven fumbles a bit but quickly says, “That’s completely different. Technically, she doesn’t pay me. Not to mention, everyone knows I don’t like Donna. And…”

He goes quiet, his eyes wandering down your face.

“And?” you ask breathlessly, needing him to keep talking despite your skepticism.

“And I definitely don’t want to kiss her.”

Heat flashes through you as Steven takes your face in his hands and leans into you. His lips meet yours, soft but urgent as if he could kiss the doubt from you.

And it works. For now.

You reach up, fisting your hands into his shirt to keep him close. You stay like that for a while, Steven wanting to thoroughly assure you of his honest honesty, his affection.

When you finally part, Steven staying at your side, you’re able to ask the question that’s been plaguing you for hours.

“What were you going to say during the massage?”

Steven freezes for a moment, caught off-guard. Then his face immediately starts to flush, exciting you. His hands are no longer on your face, instead resting in his lap. You reach out and rest one hand on his, patiently waiting for him to work up the nerve.

“It can’t be that bad,” you encourage. “You almost let it slip earlier.”

“It’s inappropriate,” he mumbles, suddenly shy as if he hadn’t just been making out with you.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Steven takes a breath, steadying himself. “You know…you could give me a massage anytime.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore the electricity dancing along your skin. He’s gotten better about asking you for things, with the exception of more intimate touches.

“I just think…” he hesitates but finally meets your eyes, his pupils dilated. “It’s something a good mummy would do.”

“That’s not inappropriate at all,” you purr as you start running your hand up Steven’s arm. “But what about the other way around? Wouldn’t a good baby want to give his mommy a massage?”

“We can do that too,” he agrees eagerly. He’s starting to get jittery now that he knows you’re receptive. “I’m fine with either.”

“Good to know,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. Your hand stops on his bicep, and you squeeze, feeling the muscle hidden underneath his shirt. You can’t wait to get your hands on him properly, especially after what brushing against him in the baths did to you. “It’ll have to wait until we get home, though.”

Your hand drops from Steven, and you fall back into the arm of the couch.

“W-what? Why? Steven practically whines, and a grin blooms across your face. You can’t contain it; you don’t want to.

You don’t say anything at first, instead looking your baby up and down as he squirms.

“It’ll be something to look forward to. And it’ll give me a reason to not keep you here all to myself.”

You lean forward, your lips finding Steven’s neck in a fleeting kiss. He shivers under your touch.

“That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” he asks breathlessly, his eyes blown black.

“Not at all,” you agree and kiss him again.

You said nothing when, after getting ready for bed, you walked out of the ensuite bathroom and saw Steven in your bed. He had the sheets pulled up to his chin, watching you, waiting. He said nothing as you crawled into what had been designated as your side of the bed.

Before settling down, you gave Steven a chaste kiss on the cheek and said, “Night, Steven.”

He wished you a good night with a smile and a soft murmur of your name. You both fell asleep soon after.

Depending on the time of night, on how long you’ve been asleep, you’re not the lightest of sleepers. Random sounds throughout the night hardly ever wake you, but tonight, something does.

Eyes bleary with sleep and mind still foggy, you don’t realize what you see at first.

A dark shape standing by the window on the other side of the room. Rumblings that start as nothing but turn into…arguing?

Then you notice the empty side of the bed, sheets barely disturbed as if they were moved back into place. You start gaining clarity.

“Steven?” you call, your voice scratchy. “What are you doing?”

You don’t know what time it is, but surely it’s late.

Steven immediately stops talking. He turns away from the window and walks back to the bed, his movements somewhat stiff.

When he gets in, he doesn’t inch his way closer like he did before. Instead, Steven seems to be staying as far away as possible.

“Go back to sleep. Everything is fine,” he says softly.

You don’t argue. Your eyes were already half closed as soon as he touched the sheets. It registers for a brief moment that something about Steven’s voice sounds…off, but you fall asleep before you can think about what it means.

“What were you doing last night? By the window?” you ask in the morning over breakfast.

“Pardon?” Steven asks, lifting his fork to his mouth.

“I woke up, and you were just standing by the window. I hear you talking. Was it your mom?”

Steven only looks confused, but then understanding and dread wash over you both.

Steven’s fork falls onto his plate with a clatter as he covers his face with both hands.

“It happened again,” he quietly cries. You rush to his side, pulling him to you.

“It wasn’t so bad. You answered when I called, and I don’t think you even left the room,” you try to reassure him.

Steven’s arms slide around your waist as he buries his face in your stomach. “What if it’s worse next time? The first time it happened, I wandered the city! I don’t remember anything that happened last night. And you said I was talking? To who? About what?”

He smothers a distressed sound against you.

“I don’t know, but you seemed to know who I was and where you were—enough to know to get into bed, at least.” You don’t think your words comfort him. One hand moves to brush through his curls. “We’ll figure this out. I promise,” you say with a confidence you don’t quite feel.

The morning’s revelation sours the mood for the remaining day of your vacation. Steven tries to remain in good spirits, but his worry about his sleepwalking hangs like a cloud over his head.

Though he loved everywhere else you had taken him, the tour of the ruins of a once great castle didn’t seem to hold his interest as much, try as he might to absorb the history the guide was providing and taking more photos.

The trip to the airport is silent. You’ve never been good at comforting people, often unable to find the words. You don’t know what else to say to Steven other than what you already have. What you can do, though, is be there for him.

For what you lack in words, you make up for in other ways. Making sure he ate, packing his things for him, holding his hand, and refusing to let go.

If your peers could see how you’re treating Steven, they would probably sneer and look down on you. Sugar babies are for providing comfort, in various forms, in exchange for material and financial gain. They aren’t meant to be looked after like children. But Steven is also in a vulnerable state, needing extra care where he usually wouldn’t.

Though you have no interest in children and don’t see Steven as one, you need somewhere to express your caring tendencies and affection. Sugar babies have always been the best and safest outlet for you. If your positions were reversed, you hope someone as kind as Steven would show the same care toward you.

“I’m sorry I ruined our holiday,” Steven quietly says as the jet starts moving. These are his first words in what you’re sure have been hours.

“You didn’t ruin it,” you assure with a shake of your head. You cradle his face in one hand and stroke your thumb across his cheek. “I had a great time because I got to spend it with you.”

“But I did. Ruin it, I mean.” Despite his disagreement, he doesn’t do anything to move away from you. “First with the sleepwalking, then the moping around. And then I felt bad for not talking, so I wanted to talk even less. I’ve been horrible to you.”

You shake your head again. “You haven’t—”

“Hush,” Steven cuts you off. You’re a little shocked, to say the least. He’s never done that before. “There’s something else. I thought about waiting for a better time since I didn’t get it as an apology, but I don’t want to wait.”

“What are you…” you trail off as Steven turns away from you and leans down to grab the backpack he kept at his feet instead of stowing away.

Finding whatever he’s looking for, he keeps his hand in the bag, and his attention falls back to you.

“That wasn’t how our last day should have ended, and I’m really sorry. This was how it should have ended.” Steven quickly pulls his hand out of his backpack and thrusts a small, hinged red box toward you. It’s perfectly square and is even tied with a white ribbon.

You stare at it, unmoving. “You got me a gift?”

Steven nods, and your heart skips a beat.

You carefully take the small box from his hand. People don’t…give you gifts. Your brain short circuits a little.

“When did you even get this?” You think back, trying to remember if you got any notifications that could tell you when and where Steven bought it.

“When you were getting your facial. I went on a trip around town.” You look up at Steven, then. You definitely didn’t know about that. “I wanted to find the perfect gift for you while we were here.”

“You didn’t use your card.” An accusation filled with confusion.

“I did use my card, just not the one you gave me. I wasn’t going to make you pay for your own gift.” He fidgets a little and gets a nervous look that has nothing to do with the jet taking flight. “Open it? Please?”

You examine the box again. Recognizing the shape, you can guess that it’s jewelry inside, but not what it looks like. It could be anything, and who’s to say what Steven thinks you’ll like. Now you’re the nervous one.

You say a silent prayer, hoping you actually like the gift and won’t have to crush Steven when he still isn’t in the best state of mind.

Carefully tugging on the end of the ribbon, the bow falls apart and slides off the box. The hinges are stiff, but you ease the lid open and peer inside.

Lying on a pristine white cushion is a bracelet. A strand of small, delicate white pearls is twisted around a thin, wire-like band of gold that is shaped into a repeating wave. Beautiful in its simplicity and daintiness, you find it stunning.

“Oh, Steven…” you say breathlessly, lightly running your fingers along the bracelet. Then, you thrust the jewelry box back toward him and hold out your left hand. “Put it on.”

Not the most elegant way to ask, but you’re practically buzzing with joy that you can’t think to ask properly.

With shaking hands, Steven carefully lifts the bracelet from its cushion. He struggles with the clasp but eventually gets it wrapped around your wrist. Then he grabs your hand and presses his lips to your wrist, just above where the bracelet settles.

His lips are barely off your skin before you take his face in your hands and pull him into a heated kiss. You can barely control yourself, but judging by the moan Steven lets out, you’d say he’s not complaining.

“I did a good job?” he asks when you pull away, his face flushed and lips swollen.

“You did amazing. I love it.” You kiss him again. “Thank you, Steven,” you say softly, trying to put as much feeling as you can into the words, hoping he knows you mean them.

You’re thanking him for more than the bracelet. You don’t say it out loud—you can’t—but you’re thanking him for caring about you. For thinking of you and wanting to show you that you mean something to him. He’s not doing it because he feels he has to; he’s doing it because he genuinely likes you.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling; you almost don’t know what to do about it.

One thing you can say for certain, though, is that it makes you l—care about Steven all the more.

For the rest of the flight, you’re curled up against Steven as much as you can be, your head resting on his shoulder. Your hand rests on his, your bracelet flashing in the sunlight.

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