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#my first instinct is to make a joke out of it
cursedhaglette · 2 days
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Birdsong
“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”
“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”
“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”
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The first time you let Astarion bite your neck, and you're surprised to find just how badly it makes you want him.
Rating: E Word Count: 2,600 Content: 18+, smut, afab reader, cunnilingus, oral sex, PiV, creampie, breeding kink if you look really hard, vampire bites,
[ao3 link]
You open your eyes, sensing something off even in your deep, dreamless sleep, and are greeted by teeth - a mouth open wide and ready to devour. 
“Shit,” is all he can say as he sits back on his heels, fidgeting nervously as you sit up and pull away - some latent instinct that you need to distance yourself for safety kicking in even though you know Astarion and what he needs. 
“I’m sorry, I - I only need a little blood,” he says, moving away from you and extending his hands in front of him. A gesture of peace, of safety. You don’t stand, but move to a kneeling position before him, well aware that your expression is likely one of fear and confusion. 
You’d agreed after his first feeding that you’d help when you could, signaling him after a long day if you were available for him that evening. His feedings are easy now, the process so quick and painless, you rarely wake up when his teeth meet your wrist in the dead of night. 
“I suppose I can help you with that,” you whisper, your voice still thick from sleep. “Um…how would you like me?”
“All over camp, love,” he smirks, and his smile only grows when he spies the quick blush that heats your cheeks at the words. 
“Ha ha,” is all you manage to say, and you roll your eyes playfully.
“Since you’re awake, I’ve been hoping to try at your neck one of these lovely nights together” his eyebrows knotting together as he moves to kneel next to you. “If that’s alright with you, my sweet, little bird.”
He’d been feeding from your wrist for the last tenday, working hard to master his control when feeding, especially since your blood is the best he gets compared to all the animals and goblins the wilderness provides. You’d limited him to that, trusting he’d keep his word if he fed from you while you slept, but he’d behaved himself - proven he could control his hunger. 
“I didn’t mean to wake you, darling, but I am happy to take from your wrist again. I simply wanted to avoid the risk of scarring from repeated feedings. We need to keep you pretty, don’t we?”
“Hmm,” you consider, pinching your lips together and trying not to look too bashful. The thought of his lips on your neck… “I suppose my neck is fine.”
You tried not to cringe as your voice came out in a soft squeak, laying back quickly to hide your embarrassment. 
“Are you quite sure you’re comfortable with this?”
“You promise not to kill me?” Again, you try to joke, but your voice falters and only sounds tired instead.
“Feel free to push me off if you start to feel faint, you know the drill, pet,” he says softly, positioning himself over you. He smells of familiar herbs, rosemary and bergamot, and something dark but sweet as well. The feeling of his body hovering above yours, while he scoops his hand under your head so tenderly, starts an ache in your core that is wholly new. You want him to rest fully against you, to run his hands through your hair, and the thoughts make you close your eyes in hesitation. 
Before you can second guess yourself and this choice, he bites down, and icy pain draws a gasp from your lips as you try to adjust to the sensation. It’s more unpleasant than your wrist, to be sure, but under this pain is a different sensation - brought on by the feeling of his tongue lapping at your neck, suckling at your lifeblood with combined tenderness and desperation. 
You don’t expect it to light a fire in your belly, your breath hitching as his body draws closer over yours. It’s only been a second, but it feels like your whole body rewrites what you know as normal as he drinks from you. 
A quiet moan escapes your lips at the feeling of him sinking onto you, a distinct hardness pressing into the gap between your thighs as he writhes against you. You’re more than familiar with how the sudden rush of energy and blood usually arouses all parts of him, but feeling it against you, against your heat, is entirely new. He whimpers in turn, his hips rolling into yours, and then you can hear his voice echoing through your mind. 
“Are you still alright, sweet bird?” He asks through your shared tadpole connection, and all you can do was whimper in delight at the pet name and the purr of his voice caressing your thoughts. 
The world feels fuzzy and warm as he drinks, like you indulged in too much wine before bed, and after what feels like not enough time at all, he pulls himself off. Or rather, he pulls away from your neck, but his body remains against yours, hard and panting. 
You meet his ruby eyes, both of your expressions hazy and wild. He rubs the mess of red away with the back of one hand, keeping himself above you while resting on the forearm of the other. Some part of you is sad to see the red go, to see that sight of you on him swept away. 
“Darling? Are you alright?” His question is little more than a whisper against your lips, he hovers so close. You could feel his cold hands softly twist in your hair, as if to bring your focus back to him, back to your body, as you reorient from the bloodloss.
“I’m fine,” but your eyes don’t leave his, even as they grow hazy with sleep and bloodloss, your body suddenly desperate for rest. But without thinking, you reach up - tangling your hands in his mess of silver hair - and tug him down into a kiss. 
It’s slow at first, surprise causing him to tense for just a moment, and then he opens for you. His mouth crashing upon yours, the hardness between his legs digging into you as you fumble for more of each other, tongues dancing. The sluggish hum in your bones that’s familiar after his feedings seems to heighten the sensations of pleasure that course through you, your hands quickly moving to his sides, his back, his neck.
Before you might beg for more, he pauses and pulls away, scanning your eyes as he does.
Astarion sits up, and your body goes cold as he does - despite the fire just outside and the blankets that you were tangled in. “I’m sorry - I didn’t expect, well, to enjoy that quite so thoroughly.” He gestured with one hand to his body as he moved to stand, and your eyes fell to the obvious erection in his pants. “You were absolutely delicious.”
There are no words for what you see, the want that you feel crest within you like a tidal wave at the sight of him - of how he wants you. And you’d never seen someone so hard before…Gods…you’re speechless at the sight. 
You pinch your lips into a fine line but can’t stop the smile that you know comes upon your face as you look back up to his, meeting his eyes as he winks. Your face is hot, your body feels hot - you feel unhinged by the overwhelming desire that aches for him.
“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”
“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”
“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”
“Oh you wicked little thing,” Astarion grins, “I noticed how you pant and writhe when I’m lost in your blood. But I had no idea how desperately you desired me.”
“Well, then stay. Stay and fuck me, Astarion.”
“I do love a woman who knows what she wants,” and with a swift, fluid motion, he tugs his shirt over his shoulders and his perfect chest is bared for you. You smile and lean back, tugging him against you as you do - propriety be damned. 
His mouth meets yours again in another chaotic, crashing kiss that tears a moan from you as his fingers go to the buttons of your sleepshirt. It falls from your shoulders and goosebumps dance up your arms at the contact of his cold skin on yours and the way your arousal grows more insistent with every swipe of his tongue against yours. 
He pulls back, scanning your face for just a moment, and you can’t help the mewling “Please” that escapes your lips, desperation evident in every word. You need more of him, and after waiting for weeks, you’re ready for him to give you everything. 
Astarion gives a wicked grin at the sound of your begging, but his mouth only moves low enough to take a single nipple in his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the hardened peak, before latching around it and sucking deeply. 
He shimmies your panties down with his next movement and holds up your hips, sliding his tongue up the length of your sex while one arm keeps your legs above him. You can’t help but groan at the delicious feeling of his mouth finally meeting your waiting, swollen bud, and quickly have to rest your legs on his shoulders to keep from bucking wildly at the intensity of the pleasure he offers you. 
And Gods, but he devours you, lewd noises filling your small excuse for a tent as his tongue laps at your soaking cunt. The pleasure behind your eyes burns white hot as he slips his tongue inside you, his nose against your clit moving in time with each shallow thrust. He groans with each pulsing clench of your body around him and your hands tangle in the blanket below you as you grasp for anything that might ground you in this moment.
Before you get too close to your peak, he briefly sets your hips down and moves to slip his cock out of his pants. He palms his length with one hand, hissing as he tightly pumps himself, and then slips the other back inside you. Astarion moves low, adjusting his body in a single smooth movement and then he’s before you once more, licking up until he pulls your pulsing, waiting clit into his mouth and sucking. Massaging your inner walls while he holds your pleasure between his lips and rolls his tongue until you’re bucking against his mouth. 
You go over the edge, dissolving into waves of pleasure with his name crashing from your lips in a keening moan and feel the way his mouth turns up into a smile as you clench around his fingers, but his mouth stays in place until your body stills around him. 
“You taste so sweet when you cum,” He moves up to kiss you and you sigh against his lips.
“Hells,” you breathe when he pulls away, trying to catch your breath as the hum of release dances through your body, but Astarion has no interest in letting you rest. 
“Now, let’s go for one more,” he starts, lining his cock up with your entrance and then sliding it against your slit, wetting his length with your arousal. He presses into you a moment later and you gasp at the sensation, at the way he stretches you to fit all of him, and his next words are enough to nearly shatter you again. 
“This time, I want you to come around my cock, my sweet, little bird.”
He doesn’t wait another moment before withdrawing then burying himself to the hilt, his moan echoing your gasp at how full you feel once he’s inside you. His rhythm is so desperate and  slow and deep that you’re quickly lost in every punishing hit of his body meeting yours. 
You can’t muffle your pleading moans as you beg for more of him, for the pleasure he offers and he shifts, putting one leg on his shoulder once more so he can take you even deeper. He’s bent over you and staring into your eyes as he ruts, smiling and purring as he watches you come closer and closer to breaking. 
“Yes, that’s…so good,” he groans, “...doing so good for me little bird.”
His nickname for you, in this context, feels like lightning dancing through your skin and igniting in that aching place where your bodies meet. He kisses you deeply, moans exchanged in the space where your tongues dance, and then he pulls away quickly, his voice gruff as he demands, “Turn over, sweet thing.”
You do as you're told, flipping onto your stomach, and before you might shift to be on hands and knees, you feel his strong hands kneading the muscle of your ass, his cock lining up with your entrance once more. Astarion angles your hips up for him and slides back inside with a delicious, deep groan
“Wanna feel you - uhnnn, Gods, bird - come around my cock,” he moans, his rhythm growing erratic as you both approach the peak for your pleasure together. “Be a good girl for me, be - please - fuck, you feel so good -”
With deep push inside you, his cock finds a spot that has your eyes rolling back and your body soaking him in your arousal, his praise continuing until you do as he asks again. He brings you closer and closer to the edge with every perfect stroke, his hips meeting your ass and balls hitting your clit with every punishing thrust.
Your climax crashes through you this time, pulsing and clenching and begging for more and more of him. You see white and stars as you pant and cry through 
“Fill me,” you beg, finding your voice as the aftershocks of your orgasm leave your cunt fluttering around him. He fucks into you with absolute abandon now, desperate for his own release. “Please Astarion, come for me. I want to feel you fill me, please, please -”
“Gods above - fuck - oh, oh, fuck - ” he groans and slows as he spends himself within you, continuing to roll his hips into you with every pulse of his cock emptying within you. 
When he stills with you, neither of you move for a moment as you catch your breath. The scent of sex fills the air and you’re sure you should be bothered by how loud you were, how your companions have undoubtedly heard you both, but you don’t care. 
His cold chest presses into your back and you’re surprised when he dots cold kisses across your shoulder blade and then turns your cheek toward him, pressing a kiss there as well with a soft hum. 
“You have a lovely singing voice, my pretty bird,” he croons into the curve of your neck, continuing to pepper your neck, back and shoulders with kisses. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’d like an encore.”
When he moves off your back again, raising your hips til you feel his tongue licking at the spend he’s left within you, you cry a moan of delicious agony, and start to sing for him again. 
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Aita for blocking a friend on instinct? So i (f16) have this friend, (m16) we can call him D, who i've been friends with since kindergarten.
About a year ago, i started growing very close to D through our friend group's dnd campaign we held every friday. I knew him for a long time but that was the first time we had started hanging out out of school. We were talking on snapchat every night just chatting and after a while he started to send much more... revealing snaps. Just his bare shoulders but like without a shirt. He said it was because he had to let his medication for his back dry. I was a little uncomfortable, but we were friends so i didnt think that it would escalate into anything weird.
After about a month, D starts sending snaps in a towel and pictures of his chest which made me very uncomfortable. I kind of let the chatting die down after that because it was the only way i could think of that would be enough to gently let him down easy (i was wrong). I stopped going to the hangouts with that group and kind of distanced myself because how uncomfortable D made me. This only made D try harder to get my attention.
I was still friends with the others in the group so i would often have one-on-one hangouts with the others and watch tv. One thing we watched was Miraculous and we laughed and joked about it all the time. D overheard us or something and went home and binge watched the entire series in a week. Then everytime i ate lunch with that friend group, D would always make direct references to Miraculous or sing the theme song really loud. This wasnt once a day, D would make miraculous references every single minute. He became obsessed with the show (which, for reference of how weird it was, D is a very religious Christian boy. He gets upset if he gets an A- and never drinks caffeine (no problem with any of those things but just understand that kind of guy being deep within the fandom of Miraculous out of all shows 😭)). It was so bad, and it once again was making me very uncomfortable.
Eventually, it got to an insufferable point where D changed his route to go home and made sure to pass me every day after school and wave. I started avoiding him in the halls, he would always ask obscure questions that werent that important. I couldn't understand why he couldn't get that i didnt want to be friends with him anymore so i set boundaries.
A text i sent to D: i apologize if i ever caused any misunderstanding, but i would like to make it clear that im not romantically interested in you. i can see that you have been trying to grow closer, but i dont feel the same way. i don't appreciate being followed around, and i dont like when people force themselves to like the same things i like. its not attractive to be a copy of someone. i enjoy being your friend but it's difficult to disregard these things. if im being totally honest, when you do things like this, it makes me really uncomfortable and borderline creeped out. i know crushes wont disappear overnight but i would appreciate more space. if youre looking for a girlfriend, this isnt the right person, nor the right way to get it. and i wont tell anyone about this so dont worry about word spreading or anything. thank you
D's response: Oh, I'm so sorry I made you think that! I don't have a crush on you, I just noticed how you don't hang out with our friend group as often and I just wanted to make sure that I was being as nice as possible to make sure you weren't mad at us or anything. I did start to think that maybe me trying all that made me seem clingy or annoying, so I'm really sorry for all of that. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, I'll try to do better now!
This didnt sit right with me because after all of that i cannot fathom how that translates to "i wanted to include you". This made me question a lot about the situation.
Reasons i feel like i MBTA: i'm over thinking things and D could be a genuinely a nice person. Its hard for me to read the room and i need to work on that and probably apologize to D.
Reasons i feel like i MNBTA: i should trust my instincts rather than ignore them. I've had a psychological abuser in my family before and the situation could be a stalker behavior that i've learned is not ok to have.
What are these acronyms?
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crispywaffles2 · 3 days
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Hi I have a request! How about macaque and wukong (separate) acting over protective after if finding out their (female) s/o is pregnant? And how would they act throughout the whole pregnancy?
Please and thank you!
Hi! Of course I can, thank you so much for requesting! I'm not really versed in this particular field of romance or the struggles that it comes with, so I apologize if a lot of these seem out of character or unbearably tropey!
Overprotective Macaque & Wukong with a Pregnant!S/O
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Macaque:
The moment it's revealed that you're pregnant he's tweaking out
He doesn't know how to be a dad what the heck
But he also can't deny that he is kind of excited at the prospect of being able to take care of your child!
Or children?
Oh my gosh what if it's twins-
He's seen mortal babies and toddlers walking about in the streets with their parents, and he's well aware of how.. tiny... and stupid... and vulnerable they are
He never much cared for it, thinking that mortal children were weak for not immediately coming into the world with powers or some sense of right and wrong
But it's different with his child! He can't let the tiny, stupid, vulnerable kid in your stomach get hurt!
Rest assured that he's rearranging furniture to make it easier for you to maneuver around
He insists on going out with you everywhere, and if you were to ever voice that you were getting tired of it, then he'd eventually relent...
Maybe send a clone or two to watch you in the shadows without your knowledge, but other than that he'll leave you alone!
He will glare at anyone who's eyes linger on your growing belly bump for too long, giving them a silent warning not to come to close
He'll throw down his cape over a small puddle, gesturing for you to safely cross. He says it's a joke, but really he wants to look like a gentleman in front of you
Despite his overprotective nature, he will not fulfill your cravings without question
"A what?? Why on Earth would our baby need to eat that?? They probably don't even like it!"
Other than your strange food requests, he's happy, eager even to help fulfill anything else
Worried about the stretch marks forming in your stomach? He'll tell you about how they remind him of battle scars and shows off his scars to you to make you feel better
"See? We're both warriors."
In pain from bad cramps? He's secretly panicking and making bad jokes while tending to you because he's nervous.
Stays by your side all the time just in case you start feeling pain. He wants to be there for you
Secretly reads books and looks up videos for first time dads when he thinks no one is looking
He's a warrior! A master of the shadows!
Sly, cunning, teasing, playful, sure!
But a father?
He couldn't even picture himself holding a baby
When the delivery finally happens he is such a karen
Might as well hire him as a doctor, considering how I practically tried to deliver the baby himself
Eventually though he composes himself and stands in the corner fidgeting nervously
He's never been one to cry, not even in his brotherhood days, but the tears that welled up in his eyes when he held your child couldn't be helped
Instinctively starts trying to groom the baby
It's all over now. You're not pregnant, and the baby is finally here
He's still pretty protective of you, and his child even moreso
All that he could think as he looked into the eyes of your writhing, still slightly damp, baby was those nine months of making frankly disgusting foods were worth it
Wukong:
Absolutely flips when the bomb is dropped that you're pregnant
He genuinely doesn't know what to do
He's not sure if he should be excited that he's going to be a dad or worried that he's going to be a dad
We all know Wukong is protective of those he loves and carries a guilty conscience about including them in his messes
He knows that pretending he knows what he's doing won't get him out of every situation. He knows how many messes he pulls people into. He knows that his lingering 'do now ask questions later' mentality can put those he loves in danger
And now he has a baby too??
It takes a bit, but he eventually starts to warm up to the idea
He's the monkey king! And he'll teach his child to be better than him. Stronger, smarter! Well, not that much stronger because then he wouldn't really hold the crown the one of the strongest beings and he would not be able to handle that
Still though, he'll raise this baby and change his ways doing so
He's cartwheeling all over the place after a while just from pure excitement
Trust and believe this man is NOT reading any baby books or watching any videos. He doesn't need some mortal telling him how to raise his kid. He's the Great Sage
Whether that's a good or bad thing is up to interpretation
He'll rant to his monkeys about all of the things he'll teach the child, and he does it with so much excitement that even they get pumped up
Will try to speculate it's gender and appearance with you
"Maybe it'll have your pretty eyes and my handsome jawline! Or maybe it'll have your hair and a little tail like it's dad!"
Makes little baby toys out of sticks and leafs
He is actually super overprotective of you, but tries to pretend he's just being casual
"Where are you going? Not that I care or anything... You're trying to go to the store?? Babe, you should totally just.. stay here with me. I can make one of my clones do the shopping."
Will furiously stammer and insist that he's not worried about you if you ask
He knows you can handle yourself! It's just... You're all pregnant and vulnerable and round and he's such a worrywart about you!
He thinks that if anything even gently bumps your tummy the baby won't grow or something, so he's constantly paranoid
Rearranges furniture so it's easier for you to get around
He even cleans up just to lighten your load a bit! He must really love you!
He's actually super eager about people looking at your belly bump in public and will absolutely go off on a tangent about how his beautiful partner is about to have a beautiful baby and it's going to be beautiful
But if someone gets a little too close to you he will not hesitate to push them down or maybe accidentally give them a broken wrist if they reach out to touch your stomach
Is confused about why everyone isn't literally bowing to you while you're walking the streets
Genuinely got upset when you two were walking through a crowd and he had to hold you because people wouldn't just part for the pregnant woman walking through
"What?? Ten dollars for this? You do know my partner is pregnant right? This should be free for her! Everyday is a struggle for her! You'd have no idea what she's been through and you're charging her ten dollars-"
He's an absolute Karen
Suggests putting a pillow over your stomach
"That way you won't bump into anything and our child can be cozy!"
Because Wukong is an absolute hazard in the kitchen, he's concocted a crazy amount of different foods
He has no problem fulfilling your strange food requests and even eats them with you
"Oh my goodness! I love syrup drizzled crab cakes!! I'll eat some with you bud."
Has like three different emergency plans for when you're in pain
The moment you lurch forward or let out a groan he's on it
With a snap of his fingers his monkeys are all marching over to help you sit down in a single file line
He sits there and soothes you as best as he can while his monkeys scamper around trying to get anything you request
When it's finally time Wukong is genuinely confused, thinking that it's just contractions or something, but you keep yelling at him and saying "IT'S TIME!!"
Time for what?? Lunch or...?
Thinking the baby is talking to him through you, he hoists you up on his somersault cloud and zips off
When the doctor gives him a strange look and tells him you're just about to have your baby he flips out
He tries to help in any way he can, holding your hand, breathing with you
Offers to help with the delivery of the baby
"Oh, looks like it's a bit stuck. Need a little help there bud?"
Losing his mind in the corner of the room but trying to play it cool for you and the doctors.
"Why is it slimy?" Are quite literally the first words that come out of his mouth when the baby is delivered
When he finally has his child in his arms he's all over it
Kisses, cooing, holding, hugging or even just staring at it
He may not know much about being a father, but he will try his best to teach his child not to go down the path he did because he already loves it to the moon and back
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ros3cherie · 1 day
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·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS part 2. my mlist
𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
💋ྀིྀི résumé : the gifts won’t stop, along with john’s paranoia. he won’t even let you out of the hotel.
1.6k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent, brat-taming⭑
୭ৎ … im so sorry yall had to wait so long for this, but im finally finished !! more chapters to come, and I hope you enjoy…if there are any error, ignore! (part 1 here) - sincerely, rose
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DAYS PASSED, and John's concern only seemed to intensify. He hovered nearby constantly, his watchful gaze never leaving your side, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. The gifts from Marquis didn’t stop either, a jewelry a day.
At first, you found John’s behavior endearing, a testament to his unwavering dedication to keeping you safe. But as time wore on, his constant vigilance began to chafe, leaving you feeling suffocated by his overbearing presence.
"I'm just going for a walk, John," you protested, attempting to slip past him as he stood guard by the hotel entrance.
His grip tightened on your arm, his eyes flashing with undisguised worry. "I can't let you out of my sight, not with him out there," he insisted, his tone firm and resolute.
Frustration bubbled up inside you as you shook off his hold, refusing to be caged like some delicate bird.
"I'm not a child, John. I can take care of myself," you snapped, storming towards the door, before the brooding man stopped you and held his position in front of the door.
“I said no.”
His voice was cold, you were getting on his nerves. Paranoid or not, he couldn’t let you go outside.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, my patience has already been thrown out the window.” He glared at you, you could tell he wasn’t joking, but you just can’t help but to talk back.
“You’re such a brute. You can’t keep me here fore—“ You widened your eyes, feeling a hand read gently on your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes to John’s gaze, your face flushed, your eyebrows narrowing.
“Stop being a brat.” He murmured, his words slipping smoothly through his lips. He leaned in close to you, staring until he flipped your body completely around to hold you against the wall.
“I’m just looking out for you, is that so hard to understand?”
As John pressed you against the wall, his firm grip sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His proximity ignited a fire within you, stirring desires that had long lain dormant.
With a defiant smirk, you met his intense gaze head-on, the heat of his breath mingling with yours as you leaned in closer, the tension crackling between you like electricity.
"You're not my keeper, John," you countered, your voice laced with equal parts defiance and desire. "I can take care of myself."
But before you could utter another word, John's lips crashed against yours, his kiss fierce and demanding, leaving you breathless and dizzy with longing. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, igniting a fierce hunger deep within your core.
“Do you understand what no means?” He leaned back, scoffing at your flushed state. Now turning your body around to face him, his eyes trailed your body top to bottom, your heart pacing, knowing what was next.
With a gasp, you melted into him, your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his passion. Every touch, every caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building to a fever pitch that threatened to consume you whole.
It didn’t take long until you felt his hands start to trail up your silk dress, his hand could be seen rubbing along your thighs through the thin fabric. Each whimper you gave was met with a smirk from John, only fueling his ego.
“Seems like this brat is already so wet for me. Is this what you wanted? To push my buttons to end up like this?”
Your breath hitched as John’s hands explored the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you with every teasing touch. His words, though laced with arrogance, only served to stoke the flames of your desire, igniting a primal need that begged to be sated.
With a low whimper, you arched into his touch, unable to deny the intoxicating effect he had on you. “N-No I didn’t mean to I…,” you murmured, your voice dripping with seduction as you trailed your fingers along the contours of his chest.
The tension between you crackled with raw intensity, each touch, each whispered word fueling the inferno of passion that raged between you. Lost in the heat of the moment, his fingers eventually met contact with your wet folds, a moan slipping past your lips.
“J-John..” you croaked, squinting.
“I told you there would be punishments for your behavior.” You couldn’t even reply back in time when he had slipped a finger inside your wet hole, gasping into the air. A few pumps from his digits already made you a moaning mess.
Your words caught in your throat as John’s touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, rendering you speechless as ecstasy washed over you in dizzying waves. His fingers, skilled and knowing, delved deeper into your core, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you whole.
Every pump, every stroke sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your moans echoing in the air as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that John bestowed upon you. His touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, leaving you craving more with each passing moment.
He smirked, eventually pulling his fingers away to bring to his mouth, tasting you. You widened your eyes, wondering why he stopped as jaw hung open, your poor cunt soaked and wanting more.
John’s smirk only deepened as he savored the taste of your arousal on his fingers, his gaze locked with yours as he drank in your reaction with undisguised satisfaction. Your widened eyes and parted lips spoke volumes, your confusion and desire swirling together in a heady mix that only fueled his own arousal.
“Such a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful promise as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You want more, don’t you?” He laughed wickedly. This was your punishment. He wasn’t going to continue, he was going to make you wait for it.
He scoffed, leaving you breathless and aching for more as he reveled in the power he held over you. Your body throbbed with need, every nerve on edge as you craved his touch like a drug.
“Clean yourself up, darling,” he said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between you.
Confusion and frustration warred within you as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt change in demeanor. Had it all been a game to him? A cruel joke at your expense?
With trembling hands, you gathered your wits about you, forcing yourself to stand on shaky legs as you attempted to compose yourself. But the memory of his touch lingered like a fever dream, leaving you reeling in its wake.
Now stepping out of the steaming shower, you sighed to yourself, thinking back to John’s advances just an hour ago. You should’ve known he had a trick up his sleeve just to toy with you.
Before you could dwell on the thought any longer, your phone rang, startling you out of your reverie. Glancing at the caller ID, you frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar number. Hesitantly, you answered, bringing the phone to your ear.
"Bonjour, ma chérie," a smooth voice purred from the other end, sending a chill down your spine.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Recognition dawned on you as you realized who was calling. "Marquis," you greeted evenly, masking the tremor in your voice. “How did you find my number…”
"Ah, I know a guy," he replied, his voice dripping with honeyed charm. "Tell me, have you been enjoying my little gifts?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the gesture," you replied tersely, forcing a note of indifference into your tone.
Deep down, you weren’t scared or threatened that the man called you, in fact, you welcomed it. Perhaps you could use this as payback for John?
The Marquis's laughter echoed in your ears, he had noticed your tone of voice . "Oh, ma chérie, you wound me," he purred. "But tell me, have you left Paris? I haven’t seen you anywhere…”
Yeah, thanks to John. You thought in your head.
“I simply admire beautiful things, and you, my dear, are the most exquisite masterpiece of them all. A shame I haven’t seen you since the auction.
Despite the danger and warning bells ringing in your mind, a rebellious spark ignited within you at the Marquis’s words. You couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through you at the thought of defying John, of embracing the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.
As the Marquis’s laughter echoed in your ears, you felt a surge of defiance welling up inside you.
“I’m still here, Marquis,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief. “And I must say, your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed either.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Ah, so you’re still playing games, ma chérie,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. “I must say, I do admire your spirit.”
The Marquis’s laughter filled the air once more, a sound that sent a thrill of anticipation racing through your veins. “Well then, my dear,” he purred. “Let’s see just how far that taste for danger will take you.”
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the end ! part 3 in progress…
© ros3cherie 2024 . do not copy !
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autistickaitovocaloid · 10 months
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forestgreenlesbian · 5 days
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#feel like my relationship with my younger brother is changed completely forever not to be dramatic lol but i am sad#we used to b very close but he has kind of. found his faith again and gone full missionary christian which like. i knew meant the dynamic#was doomed lmao but actually acknowledging it makes me sad i feel like i'm grieving for the friendship we used to have even though#it is literally a me problem i think from his perspective he doesn't think anything has changed. but i feel weird about everything#also his new gf is nineteen and he is. almost 25 and i am the only one who feels weird about it like i know she's over 18 but! idk i can't#tell if i'm being overly cautious or if my gut instinct is right. my sister & her husband have a similar age gap but they met when they wer#both over 30 so like. it didn't feel weird. and i didn't feel comfortable actually seriously talking to him about it apart from the first#time he mentioned her over facetime (he went to another country to do mission stuff & met her there) so like an idiot i've just been#making jokes about the age gap becausee like. thats always been our thing lightly bullying each other lol but he blew up at me and said#i've had nothing positive to say about her since he's been back home and that he thinks i hate her and i'm out of line for constantly#implying he's creepy for dating someone younger. idk i felt like such a freak idiot horrible person about it. it completely blindsided me#bc yes the jokes were coming from a place of idk how i feel about this situation so i'm going to rely on the humour-based communication#we have always fallen back on as a safety thing but i guess i was wrong or the dynamic shifted or something anyway it's all fucked#& everyone is just telling me i feel weird out of some?? misplaced kind of jealousy thing?? because i'm 'losing' my brother to his gf lol#which does not feel right at all he has dated so many other girls and i have never had a problem it is literally the age gap like i haven't#even met this girl i'm sure she's very nice! i just worry about her being nineteen!! jesus. and yes maybe i do feel some resentment around#a brother younger than me who seems to be able to live his life with zero difficulty whilst i'm stuck being this unemployed loser who ruins#literally ever friendship & relationship ive ever had but i think thats ok right like i can't help feeling that. i don't fucking knowwww#am i just projecting all these sad feelings about our friendship dying onto his new relationship or like. am i right to be genuinely#concerned she's six years younger than him and still a fucking teenager!!!!!! i don't know
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soph-skies · 2 years
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ken rn:
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,,,,,, so no head?
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mootmuse · 1 year
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Y'all. We've got to talk about that fucking gandalf big naturals joke.
If you're going to post a meme where the whole joke is just the image of a guy with tits, ha ha, look at this man, he's got tits, what more do I need to say about how hilarious that is, etc etc, at least tag it so people like me can block it. I get that none of y'all are thinking about what exactly it is you're laughing at, you don't mean it, but for a website full of people who never stop yelling at the top of their lungs about how trans inclusive they are, I'd think some of you guys could do a little better.
#i get it right?#people don't think about what they laugh at. laughter just comes naturally.#once when i was a cashier these two girls ran up to the cashier next to me asking where their parents were#and the cashier's customer grinned real wide and said they'd probably already left. his whole posture and tone indicated that it was a joke#and that everything was okay and nothing serious was happening#when he laughed the cashier laughed too and the kids left#a minute later another customer came up to the cashier and went OFF on her for it#saying what if those kids had panicked and run into the parking lot or street looking for their parents etc#and this cashier was a sweet old grandma who spent all her breaks knitting. she never would have wanted to endanger those kids#or even just freak them out#she just laughed on instinct because her social instincts told her to follow the first customer's tone and body language#which were telling her that everything was fine and that a joke was happening and to laugh#i would definitely have laughed. I know me. I don't think quickly enough to react the way I want to in person#so i get it. but like. after we laugh it's up to us to think a little bit about why we laughed#and where exactly the punchline was#while y'all have already signed up for my in-tags essay:#I know you could make the argument that the humor lies in seeing a character who doesn't come off as sexy-#-now having a trait that contrasts with that image in a surprising way. the unexpected is the core of how humor works#but I've found the line between that and making fun of the idea of a man having 'feminine' qualities is REALLY thin#just asking that the next time you see a similar joke you think a little bit about the mechanics of it#how it works. why it works. where the punchline is. how a man who fits that description would feel about it
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steddielations · 3 months
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Steve acts on instinct.
There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.
There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.
They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.
“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.
“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”
Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”
It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”
“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”
Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.
“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.
He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.
It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.
“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”
Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.
“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”
Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.
Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.
“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.
“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.
The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.
He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.
“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”
He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”
“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.
“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”
Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.
“I think I’d definitely remember you.”
Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.
“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”
Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”
“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”
Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”
Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”
“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.
Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.
It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.
That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.
Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.
“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.
“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.
“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”
“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”
He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.
Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.
He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.
Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.
“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.
Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.
What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.
At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.
Oh.
He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—
Yeah, just. Oh.
Part 2
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goodbird1 · 2 months
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My firecracker
Alastor x fem reader
Word count: 634
Summary: Charlie learns about Alastor wife.
Warnings: mention of death and murder (please tell me if I miss any)
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Alastor stood on a balcony overlooking the city. The hotel was celebrating for some reason or another he didn't particularly care. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a locket. Unclasping it reveals an image of a woman.
“I thought doing this would make me feel better in some way, or at least dull the pain for the time being” Alastor began, looking down at the locket. “It was foolish of me to think that would happen. It's happening all over again, and I don't think I have a chance to see you again.”
Tears started swelling in his eyes. Quickly pulling out a handkerchief and wiping them away.
“You know I always took you as someone who likes entertainment and parties are pretty entertaining” Charlie said coming out on the balcony.
“Oh I'm just getting some fresh air, it's far too stuffy in there” Alastor replied, shoving the locket back in his coat. Not before Charlie notices.
“What's that?” Charlie said, reaching out.
Instinctively Alastor slapped Charlie's hand away, holding the locket even closer now. Towering over her with a cruel look on his face, he saw the fear in her eyes. Normally he'd relish in it but this was no sight he wanted to see on charlie. Signing he pulled out the locket again shifting it through his fingers.
“My apologies dear,” he said, turning back to the city. “I didn't mean to snap, it's a locket with my wife's photo in it, it's the only thing I have left of her.”
“You never told me you were married,” Charlie said, coming to Alastor's side.
“I don't much like to talk about it” Alastor signed.
“Can I ask, what was she like?” Charlie questioned.
“Oh she was wonderful” He began. “She was a firecracker, always 3 steps ahead of everyone. Beat you in any game and once you thought you had the upper hand she'd pull the rug right out from your feet. She was kind and considerate, and believed in second chances. She'd taught me that. And oh she could sing like an angel. I would play the piano, she would sing and the world would fade away.”
“She sounds amazing, you know maybe if you redeem yourself you can see her again in heaven!”
“Haha oh darling, anybody worth knowing comes down here!” Alastor said between laughs. “She would always tell me she would rather burn in hell with me than sit alone in heaven. Did you know that our fathers decided to put us together to ‘contain our unnatural behavior’? And she came up with a plan to kill both our families and then burn the evidence! Oh it was then I knew she was the one.”
Memories started flooding back when they were both alive and then both died. But this time they didn't hurt so much now.
“What happened to her?” Charlie asked, bring Alastor back to reality.
“The first or the second time?” Alastor joked trying not to spiral.
“Both?” She whispered hesitantly.
“The first time she was in a tree, mistaken for a bird and shot down the fall was what killed her. The second time…” Alastor choked clutching the locket for dear life. Clearing his voice he started again. “Well you don't make it as far as I have without making a few enemies. They sent her back in pieces.”
“That's awful!” Charlie exclaimed.
“No need to worry they won't hurt anyone now.” Signing, he stepped away from the edge. “Come on dear, let's join the party.”
“Hey Al, can I ask one more thing?”
“And what would that be?”
“Do you think she would have liked the hotel?”
Turning fully around to face Charlie. A kind smile across his face with a hand reaching out for her.“Oh she would love it.”
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garoujo · 6 months
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU — your stepdad gojo always seemed to show off how good your father / daughter relationship really was whenever his bestfriend would visit.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! stepcest, stepdad!gojo, vouyerism, f!receiving oral, teasing, you refer to him as daddy, pet names. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hi guys! it’s me! i got struck w motivation suddenly & i missed u all ! <3 i’m back on my filthy little agenda & finally elaborating on this post now that i’m back :3
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you always loved when your step dads bestfriend visited, you could always tell it was him with how softly he seemed to close the door — your home suddenly being filled with light hearted jokes from the two men downstairs that always pulled you out of your bedroom.
geto had always been kind to you, he’d basically been as big a part of your life as gojo had been— although you always thought it was funny the way they would both playfully fight for your attention. more so your dad’s bestfriend just letting him win so he didn’t have to listen to him whining about how he’s stealing you from him.
so today is just the same when you hear you the familiar “you’ve got a visitor, sweet girl.” call from downstairs as it’s followed by a smooth chuckle from the man in question. you know who it is— you’ve just gotten out from your shower, skin still slightly damp underneath the oversized fabric of your daddy’s shirt and you don’t really have the time to change into something warmer, opting just to deal with the panties underneath — the shirts long enough to hide them anyway.
it’s fast the way you make your way through the house, almost toppling into the living room as your greeted with the two men on either sofa. you suddenly feel nervous with the way their eyes cut into you, feeling hot underneath their gaze as you grab and pull at the hem of your shirt.
“slow down, sweet thing. excited to see me?” is how it begins, the usual teasing as gojo gives his bestfriend a narrowed look followed by a sly smirk sent your way. but it seems to cut through the tension in the room, helping you relax as his arms outstretch and you suddenly feel embarrassed underneath your clothes when he gives you an expectant look, tapping at his lap when you pause and rock yourself on your feet.
but you’re much too distracted by the way geto’s looking at you, head propped up against his fist as he lets himself rest against the arm of the couch. his hair is pulled back handsomely, letting you admire his pretty cut features and the usual kind-hearted smile he always reserved for you. “it’s good to see you again.”
“hah! come onnn~ you shy? ‘ts just suguru, you don’t wanna embarrass me infront of my friend, right?” gojo groans, a little louder this time as his crystalline gaze narrows playfully at you with a pout. your step dad has always been a little touchy, especially around his bestfriend — always insisting you spend your time together tucked into his lap or under his arm, like he’s staking a silent claim.
“you better go before he starts whining, we won’t hear the end of it.” geto’s words are soothing but he makes sure they’re loud enough for his friend to hear as the snowy haired male tuts. but just before he fires back another quick response, he smirks as you pad your way towards him — giving into the way his arms wrap instinctively around your hips as he pulls you into his lap, letting your thighs rest over his own as you press into his side under his arm.
“see, bet you’re comfy now, right? gotta show suguru that i’m still your favourite.” the first half of gojo’s sentence is a low drawl as you readjust yourself, words breathed along the shell of your ear before he makes the latter a little louder. like he’s celebrating a victory as his bestfriend pretends not to hear him.
but you press yourself into him just like always, it was too easy to get lost in the feel of him against you — tucking yourself against him as he lets one of his arms curl around you to rest at the base of your spine.
you let yourself chime into their conversation for a while before you just allow yourself to listen— opting for a giggle or a laugh at their playful banter, feeling gojo squeeze at your hips everytime he says something that he finds particularly funny so he can make sure you’re listening, laughing. you readjust yourself against him again and he’s always there to pull you closer, pressing a quick peck against your temple and you like how homey it feels when the three of you are like this.
the time seems to move quickly, the conversation has settled down slightly despite the way the two bestfriends still seemed to tease eachother and you feel content from where you’re curled against your stepdad, face resting in the crook of his neck as his fingers smooth along your spine.
“is she asleep?” you hear geto ask lowly, kindly and it makes your eyelashes flutter— tickling along gojo’s skin as he hums. he knows you’re not, but he still lets the question hang for a few more moments as his fingers trace shapes into your skin. he readjusts himself, silently before the next twist of his wrist brings his hand around your hips, placing featherlight touches along the planes of your skin until you shudder into him.
“daddy—“ it’s embarrassing, the soft whine your voice takes— you’re so responsive. your daddy’s heard you like this before, he took great pleasure in being able to pull those sounds from you but this was a first for his bestfriend.
“oh? ‘s my sweet girl tired? suguru was worried.” you keen at the low drawl gojo’s voice takes— you’d heard it like that before, it was like instinct the way you reacted to it especially when it’s accompanied by the teasing squeeze of his palms — kneading at your skin until you’re fidgeting.
“i’m fine.” you murmur as you try so hard to bury yourself into your stepdad’s neck, you’re so embarrassed— too hot underneath your clothes and all he’s done is barely touch you, show off the reaction he can pull from you with just a few swipes of his fingers.
“oh yeah? just fine?” gojo drawls again, a lull to his voice that lets you know he’s teasing you and you can’t help the way your arms reach to wrap around his shoulders, fingers twisting in the snowy peaks of his hair as you grumble in response, but you know he won’t let you away with just that.
you can feel the heat of geto’s gaze from across the room and the way it follows the warm press of the fingers along your skin, the shape of your waist, the swell of your ass and you keen at the attention before they pinches playfully at the skin, making you jolt as you press your chest into his with a short whine.
“n-no.. i’m good.”
“can’t hear you, princess. lil louder f’ me, make sure he can hear you.” gojo almost chuckles with your sensitive little reaction, the heat from your arousal feels like it burns you and now you really wish you’d thrown on something to hide the way you’re rubbing your thighs together. you’re so desperate, needy to feel something before your mind blurs at the feeling of your daddy’s long fingers finally pushing between your thighs to squeeze.
“you’re making her nervous, satoru.” grounds you as geto pushes himself to stand, his eyes seem darker now but the kindness in his expression remains the same as he takes his first careful step into your space. you’re already pliant, like putty when the snowy haired male beside you moves you so easily, pulling at your thigh until you’re pressed perfectly, pretty in his lap while you face his friend — back pressed against his broad chest as he breathes deep along your shoulder.
“that right? you think you can calm her down, sugu?” there’s something carnal in gojo’s words, like a challenge— he knows that nobody could ever beat him when it comes to you, the pleasure he can pull from you is limitless. but he can feel the way you seem to stiffen, your breathing coming in short pants as his bestfriend comes closer until he’s looking down at you both, but his eyes are on you before he crouches down to your level to meet you.
“oh i wouldn’t say that.” his voice seems different now, lower— deeper when you find yourself suddenly too nervous to meet his gaze but your step dad forces you to, fingers circling from behind to hold your jaw gently in place as his other hand pulls at your inner thigh.
you feel so exposed as gojo spreads you so easily with one hand, like he’s serving his pretty little step daughter up to his bestfriend like a meal, although you admit geto’s looking at you like he could devour you completely. your thighs almost tremble with want with the first press of your daddy’s best friends palm against the opposite thigh, helping to hold you open as he admires the already damp spot on your panties.
“but she seems to like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” geto’s words are still smooth despite the way his fingers squeeze in your skin as he leans forward, letting himself press a quick kiss against your clothed pussy before he exhales against you— like he’s taking his first breath of fresh air in years.
the sounds that leave you are humiliating as he pushes deeper into you, letting his tongue tease along the damp fabric— pressing into the swollen bump of your clit all while your step dad holds you in place. your thighs and hips quake, as do your lungs with every staggered inhale you take— you can barely breathe with the way he drinks you up, tongue rolling and curling through your folds so expertly you wouldn’t believe there was still a layer between you both.
you jolt, tremble and gojo knows you’re already close as he curls over you — letting you feel the heavy press of his cock against your lower back as he suckles wet kisses along your throat from behind. “make sure you’re good for sugu, alright, sweet thing.” his words are hissed through his teeth as he rocks into you slightly, pushing his bestfriend’s mouth even deeper between your thighs before his fingers finally hook underneath the fabric of your panties to pull them aside.
“but gotta remember you’re daddy’s girl.” it’s growled, timed well with the way geto’s tongue finally presses against the now exposed skin of your folds, cutting through the glistening petals as he suckles and smacks at the mess. you can’t help but arch back into your stepdad, urging him to let his free hand palm at your tits, twisting and flicking at the raised skin of your nipples through his shirt until you’re whining so greedily for more.
“mmm, see.. so sensitive f’ only me.” his words urge you to turn to meet him and you can taste the possessiveness in gojo’s words when he’s suddenly pushing them between your lips as he kisses you, messy and driven even more by the way geto’s mouth is wrapped around you all while he watches. his long fingers clasp gently around one of your nipples before he pulls and you feel lightheaded with how close you are, feeling the flames of your orgasm lick at your spine as you feel his clothed cock press languidly into you from behind as he licks into your mouth.
“daddy.. please.” you beg against him and the man pulls away to chuckle smugly, suddenly as your chest expands with every shakey breath you struggle to take. you’re so close, you feel too hot for your skin but just as geto closes his lips around your clit to suckle — he pulls away, cheeks wet with slick as he breathes out your step dads name.
“i only needed another second, satoru.”
“nope, times up.” gojo mutters playfully and if you couldn’t feel just how affected he was by this you’d assume he wasn’t at all with how giddy he sounds, but then his attention turns back to you.
“you gonna show him how sweet you are for daddy now? i knew my sweet girl wouldn’t let him tease me like this.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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saetoru · 7 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ KISS IT BETTER — GETO SUGURU.
contents. post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru has nightmares :(, chest kissies for sugu <3, reader lays on top of him, like very cheesy banter my bad
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suguru gets nightmares—it’s expected, but it’s not easy. it breaks your heart—very painfully so—every time he jolts up with frantic eyes and labored breaths.
he tries to shake you off and pretend he’s fine the first few times, but by the time it’s happened enough, he resigns himself to letting you handle things, just like you always do.
it’s easier when you handle things—he’s starting to realize that more.
“another one?” you mumble through a yawn, sitting up and hugging him from behind as your cheek rests on his bare back. he grunts, hunched over with his head in his hands.
“‘s okay,” he says quietly, “you can go back to sleep.”
“we both know i’m not doing that, suguru,” you hum, palm rubbing slow circles into his abs. he sighs, melting into your touch eventually as he leans against you, head falling back to lay on your shoulder.
“sorry,” he whispers, “i didn’t wanna wake you.”
“i wish you would,” you hum, tracing his nose delicately as you kiss the side of his head, “i wish you’d let me help, baby.”
“you already help enough,” he mutters—almost bitterly, you note, “i don’t need to make you lose sleep over it.”
“you’d do the same for me,” you say gently, “wouldn’t you?”
“of course,” he says instantly.
sometimes, suguru is too kind for the world. it tramples him and leaves him curled on the floor under its cruelty. sometimes, he gives too much and forgets to take, to ask, and it’s starting to show. it’s starting to pile up and become too much and you think, just for once, someone should give to suguru too—because he deserves it.
“it’s a two way street, y’know,” you smile against his temple, “wake me up next time. please?”
“you really wanna see me at my lowest, huh?” he tries to crack a joke and dodge the question—but you know suguru, and you know what he needs. sometimes before he knows himself, even.
“everyone needs someone in their lowest, baby,” you mumble, “it helps more than you think.”
it’s silent for a bit. it’s like that more often than not with suguru these days—he’s silent, prefers the quiet and tender moments alone with you when you happen to catch them. he doesn’t have the energy to talk, and you don’t make him, and he’s grateful. he’s grateful when your fingers weave into his hair and your lips find his cheek, when you’re content with laying your head on his chest and just being there as he thinks.
you look down as he lays against you, his back to your chest and his body slotted between your legs, resting in your hold. it’s silent—he doesn’t always want to talk, and you don’t make him.
and he’s grateful.
finally, he breaks the silence first. “i felt it all over again,” he mumbles, “the…on my…”
his hand instinctively covers his chest, and you know what he means—he doesn’t have to finish, doesn’t have to say anything else before you press a tender kiss to his head. suguru doesn’t have scars on his chest. shoko’s reverse cursed technique heals well enough that the scars on his chest don’t remain even a little. it’s almost like it never happened—no proof of the x shaped slashes from blades to his chest.
but suguru can still feel his skin slicing sometimes—in fact, he thinks he can never forget it.
“hmm,” you think out loud, “well, there’s only one remedy for this i’m afraid.”
he looks up and raises a brow, staring at you before you crawl from under him, letting him plop down against the pillows as your body turns to hover over his.
“what are you—”
“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to his chest, starting from his collarbone before continuing in a diagonal line down the rest of his sternum. he can’t help but let his lips slowly widen into a smile with each one, letting out a soft chuckle when you tickle the skin slightly. “i read somewhere that kisses are really good for healing,” you murmur.
“ah yes, your doctorate from webmd is really coming in handy,” he teases, grinning when your lips press against his collarbone once more, on the other side this time as you peck along his chest in another diagonal line. it’s silly, a little pointless even—the wounds have long healed and you can’t even be sure you’re kissing where the scars would be, but suguru seems to brighten considerably with every touch of your lips.
it’s enough.
“well, my handsome patient,” you say cheekily, “did that help?”
“oh yes,” he nods dramatically, “i feel better than ever. thank god i have a gorgeous doctor like you.”
“hmm, i am rather gorgeous,” you brighten, giggling as he pulls you down by the wrist to kiss you softly. his hands are on your cheeks, cupping your face delicately as you hum against his mouth. “better?” you ask pulling away, pecking the corner of his mouth.
he nods, wrapping two strong arms around you as you lay over his body, grinning up at you.
“better,” he assures, “they should let you open up your own clinic. you’d put the hospitals out of business.”
“but suguru,” you gasp, “then i would have to kiss random men—surely you can’t let that happen!”
“you’re right,” he plays along, eyes widening in faux concern, “i can’t. i guess i’ll have to be your only patient.”
you smile at him—it’s radiant enough to clear the dark clouds of his shoulders, gentle enough that he feels the hardened parts of him start to go soft just a little. sometimes, suguru gets nightmares—they’re not easy, but you make them feel a lot less impossible.
it’s enough.
“what a waste of my higher education,” you sigh, “but fine. you’ll be the only one i kiss better.”
“i’m so grateful,” he snorts, pulling the blanket over your bodies as he holds you close.
sleep comes easier that night—and every night after.
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i’ve decided to give this lil healing sugu series a tag so it’s: #operation: heal suguru! and you can click the tag below on this post to read the earlier drabbles !!
anyway unseen footage from this moment is that i actually sucked his tiddies as i kissed his chest. bc lord knows he just needed his tiddies sucked and he’d have been 100% happier and fine
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some-bunniii · 1 month
Text
My Charming Red Savior [2]
・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!
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That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.
Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.
“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”
You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"
Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"
You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."
"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."
Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it. 
You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."
Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."
You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."
Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.
At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked. 
“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.
You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.
Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.
As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat. 
“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.
“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”
You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned? 
As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea. 
Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive? 
Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.
Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers. 
It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.
“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?” 
Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head. 
He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval. 
You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.
His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness. 
It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?
You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”
The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets. 
“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.” 
He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.
A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation. 
Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze. 
“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”
The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.
“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”
Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.
“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.
You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts. 
As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display. 
Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.
You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.
It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men. 
“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?” 
The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”
The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.
“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.
“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”
“Do they have a background in fashion?” 
“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.” 
The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet. 
“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”
The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.
“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.” 
What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-
“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.
Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel? 
“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.
“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.” 
That couldn’t be true, could it?
Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.
“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.” 
The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”
You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.
“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.” 
Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip. 
“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.” 
He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”
As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.
“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”
You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for. 
He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door. 
“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view. 
Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.
You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin. 
Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name. 
You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.
What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.
Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection. 
You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.
Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him. 
Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.
“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.
You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.
“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”
“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”
It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.
That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building. 
“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later. 
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?” 
You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time? 
“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”
Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.
“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person. 
“You are?” He asked incredulously.
“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.” 
Hopefully, he would buy your lie.
Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.
You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.
The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.
Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music. 
“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!” 
Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?
“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway. 
Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.
He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.
“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”
He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty. 
“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear. 
Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.
“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon. 
Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”
You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?
You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.
“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”
His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside. 
Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.
“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you. 
As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath. 
He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.
“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.” 
Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.
Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve. 
“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?” 
Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.
Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.
“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?
“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.
He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him. 
“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room. 
Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day. 
You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.
Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing 
“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.
“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”
He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.
You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.
Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color. 
While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room. 
He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull. 
As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.
“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table. 
You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.
“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.
“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table, 
‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’
“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.” 
Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.
Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll. 
“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”
“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?” 
You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table. 
With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.
“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.
“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.” 
“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.” 
As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay. 
“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve. 
“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”
Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work. 
Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.
Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.
“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.
“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”
You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric. 
“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?” 
You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.
The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.
“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.
‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet. 
Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking? 
“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.
The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished. 
It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace. 
You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”
Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it. 
“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.
You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry? 
“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”
“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.” 
A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring? 
“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”
You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.
“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.” 
Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly. 
The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.
It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.
“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!” 
Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.
What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.
Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you. 
“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.” 
“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.
Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”
Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.
“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”
‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.
Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.
“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.
You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.” 
“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”
You shook your head, “no, not really.”
“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”
Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain. 
The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.
“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”
“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.
Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you. 
He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.
“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.
You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.
Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.
The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.
You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.
For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.
You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.
It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.
Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.
You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form. 
“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.
Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.
“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.” 
“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him. 
“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”
You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.
“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.
You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.
This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.
“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.
Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.
“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”
His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.
“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.
He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.
It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.
Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened. 
The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch. 
You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.
It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.
The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.
The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.
Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.
The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.
“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!” 
Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?
Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.
It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter. 
Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures. 
There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him. 
There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.
It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle. 
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.
“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion. 
Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.
“Um, hi..?” 
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I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha
and.. hold up yall…
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for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!
Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)
HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3
have a great day, my swans! 🦢
taglist:
@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites
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leaderwonim · 2 months
Text
I HATE (LOVE) YOU.
part one | part two | part four
pairing. situationship!nishimura riki x fem!reader
summary. nishimura riki despised love, so why the hell was his heart beating so fast around you?
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If anyone were to ask Nishimura Riki what he thought of love, he’d say it was pointless and quite frankly — a joke.
Nishimura Riki did not believe in love. He didn’t believe in going on multiple silly little dates just to maybe, maybe ask out the person for them to maybe say yes.
He hated the concept of dating. He hated the concept of love.
“What’re you thinking about?” Sim Jaeyun, one of Riki’s closest and really only friend, swung his arms over the much taller boy. “How to take over the world and rule with an iron fist?”
Riki scoffs at that, flicking Jaeyun in the head. “No. But if I were to take over the world, I’d kill you first.”
Jaeyun pretends he’s offended by bringing a hand over his chest, leaning forward to make it more believable that Riki’s words truly hurt his heart.
“How could you say that? I’m your only friend!”
You watch from the distance, watching Riki’s eyes crinkle from both annoyance and amusement, watching as his hands come to each side of Jaeyun’s body, tickling the older boy with no mercy.
It’s in moments like this that you realize Nishimura Riki is just a teenage boy, and that maybe a teenage boy wasn’t the love of your life after all.
“What are you thinking about?” It was Asakura Jo’s voice that snapped you out of your thought. “Math equations, I hope. Your SATs are soon.”
“Shut up.” You shriek, swatting Jo’s face away from yours.
“I’ll never see what you see in him,” he snickers. “But young love, right?”
“Jo, you are one year older than us. One.” You roll your eyes.
“That’s one more year of love experience than you have.” Jo shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever though, your boyfriend looks mad, I’m gonna go.”
Before you can deny that Riki was your boyfriend, Jo’s already leaving, engaged in a new conversation with Kyomi.
“What was that?” A glaring Nishimura Riki already makes you feel annoyed. He could be an asshole when he was in a mood.
“I was talking to Jo. You know, my SAT tutor.”
“Yeah yeah,” Riki waves your words off. “I still don’t know why your mom hired him. I’m so much better.”
“Riki, I love you but you’re terrible at math and English.” You say.
“Oh, you love me?” He teases you by softly nudging you with his side. “L/N Y/N loves me.”
“Yah Nishimura, I will kill you.”
He scoffs, pretending to surrender. “I’m sorry, forgive me your highness.”
You roll your eyes at his sarcasm, linking your arms with his as you two make way to the vending machines.
“You gotta stop doing that.” Riki says, although his tone doesn’t sound like he’s serious at all. “People might think we’re dating if you link arms with me.”
“Oh really?” You put in a few coins, pressing number 36, which was a snickers ice cream bar. “Yah Riki! Give that back!”
It’s too late though — Riki’s already taken a bite out of your ice cream, almost choking on it when you smack his shoulder.
“Okay sorry!” He laughs, a noise that you’ve grown to love despite your love and hate relationship towards the Japanese boy. “Here, I only took a small bite.”
Your eyes widen when he shoves the bar towards your mouth, waiting for you to open so he could feed you.
“This is gross.” Jaeyun, Kiyomi, and Jo all watch from a distance, shaking their heads at one another. “Not a couple my ass.”
As soon as Riki and you are done with school for the day, his instincts instantly go for your school bag, swinging it over his shoulder despite how heavy it was.
“Yah,” he says, fingers coming down to mess with your ponytail. “This bag is so heavy, no wonder you’re so short.”
Your cheeks puff out and you make a halt, which almost has Nishimura Riki tumbling over you since he hovered above you.
“You’re crazy!” You say, pushing him backwards. “I don’t know how your sisters deal with you everyday.”
“They love me.” He defends himself.
He drops you off at your house, bidding a quick goodbye to your grandmother before dashing back to his house.
“Geez, did you run a marathon or something?” Riki’s older sister says, giving a look of disgust towards her brother.
“No.” He places one of his hands against his chest, eyes widening when he realizes how much his heart is beating. “I don’t like it.”
“You don’t like what?” His sister is super annoyed now, feet tapping against the floor tiles.
“This feeling.” Riki’s mouth goes dry, and his first thought is that he needs water. He really really needs water.
His long legs march themselves to the kitchen, flimsy arms clumsily reaching for a cup.
“Seriously, you’re acting weirder than usual.” His sister says from the living room.
“Mind your own business!”
Nishimura Riki was screwed. He was sure of it. Although he swore that he’d never get serious with you, he feels the butterflies in his stomach and his heart beating irregularly. He’s so screwed.
He thought that pushing you away the week before would be a good idea. When you had asked the stupid question of were you and Riki soulmates in another universe, he felt speechless.
He didn’t believe in soulmates, much less another universe.
No. He had replied with. We aren’t even soulmates in this one.
He knew he was an asshole, and it was an asshole move on his part. But he couldn’t help it, there was no way Nishimura Riki would let love tie him down. There was no way. He simply refused.
“I hate her.” Riki grumbles the next morning as he’s eating breakfast with Jaeyun.
“You hate Y/N?” Jaeyun tries to stop himself from laughing — because it’s ridiculous, really. He knew his best friend by heart, if anything, Riki was inlove with you.
“I hate Y/N, I hate the way she laughs, I hate the way I can easily tower over her, I hated her stupid haircut from last month. I hate her.”
Jaeyun thinks it’s pathetic that Riki is trying so hard to convince himself it’s not love he’s feeling, but hate. Clearly the Japanese boy had issues.
“I heard Jo’s gonna ask her out.” Jaeyun’s mouth moves quicker than he can stop it.
“What?”
Before Jaeyun could say anything else, Riki’s already leaving in a panic, his priority was finding you.
“Hey!” He yells as he spots your figure heading into the school. He grabs you by your arms effortlessly, your surprised yelp only adding to the list of what Riki claims he “hates”.
“Is it true?”
“What is?” You say exasperated, arms crossed over your chest. “Why do you always ask me the broadest questions Nishimura?”
“Is Jo gonna ask you out?”
You automatically choke on your spit, not expecting such a ridiculous question. “What?!”
You let out a giggle, which doesn’t help Riki who’s already flushing with red.
“No! What the hell!” You say, looking directly into the boy’s eyes. “He’s my tutor for God sakes! I’ve told you like a billion times.”
“Oh.” Riki bites the inside of his cheek, now aware that Jaeyun had lied straight from his mouth.
“Why?” You get closer to Riki, your head almost bumping into his chest. “It wouldn’t be a problem if he asked me, would it?”
“It would!” Riki clasps his hands over his mouth, already realizing he’s said too much.
You smirk at his unsuccessful attempt to try and conceal his emotions because despite the nonchalant persona Nishimura Riki so desperately tries to keep up, you can see right through it.
“Oh would it?” You tease. “Why?”
“Because..” Riki pauses, biting his lip as he tries to think of what to say. “Because I don’t want you to go out with him.”
“I think Jo and I make a great couple, don’t you?”
Riki rolls his eyes, both hands coming down to grip your shoulders. “No.”
“Why not?”
You keep pushing the boy because you know sooner or later he’ll break. He wasn’t very good at containing his obvious jealously.
“Because you’ll look better with me!”
Ah, there it was. Nishimura Riki has finally broke.
“Hmm,” you say, lips curving into a teasing smile as you watch Riki’s face turn bright red in embarrassment. “Don’t worry Nishimura, it’s you I like, not him.”
Riki doesn’t let you say anything else before he connects his lips with yours. He ignores the blaring alarms in his head telling him that it was stupid to fall inlove, because he had already fallen too deeply with you.
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welcometomyoasis · 2 months
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Seventeen's reaction to their s/o being in the same variety show as them
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Synopsis: When your relationship isn’t public, how would seventeen react when you, their idol s/o, appears in the same variety show as them? Idol! Svt x idol gn! reader | idol au, fluff | 1.1k words | warnings: unsolicited comments | requested by anon A/n: honestly the svt members are already chaotic social butterflies so their behaviour wouldn’t really change? But the heart eyes would be real. Also, thank you anon for requesting my first idol au!! I actually really like idol aus and will prob write more at some point!
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Member exe. has stopped working
Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Dokyeom, Mingyu
☘︎ Why are you going to the same variety show as him? Do you want him to combust on the spot? He knows you can’t control which shows your group goes to for promotions, but this is such bad news for them. Sure he loves watching you in your element, talking about your group, the new songs you’ve released, dancing with that passion that he fell in love with. The thing is he loves watching you a bit too much. 
☘︎ During the show, his brain just stops working. Who cares about professionalism? He wants to admire the masterpiece that is you. He’s going to shoot out so many heart eyes at you. He watches with a look that says he is completely enamoured or smitten with you. He is in awe. He definitely would not be able to keep the goofy smile off his face. His mind goes blank. Of course, he would cheer for you as well. Loudly. Very very loudly. He’s just so proud of you. If he was feeling a bit daring, he might even post a selfie that you both took backstage. 
☘︎ The hosts might make a comment or two about how he’s falling in love with you. As long as it’s harmless jabs, you’re both usually okay with it though other members might try to steer the conversation away just to be safe. Still, he’s so obvious that his behaviour towards you is hard to ignore. The comments from the viewers would be full of things like “i want someone to look at me the same way he looks at y/n” or “he’s so in love with y/n i cannot” or “what’s going on in his brain?”
☘︎ Surprisingly, I don’t actually think that there would be much speculation about whether you both are dating. These members can somehow brush off their lovestruck behaviour with a smile. It’s just that these 4 members do always stop functioning at some point anyway? Their chaotic, mindless behaviour and cheering really isn’t that out of the ordinary when you think about it. They might become the butt of some jokes for a while but I feel like this whole thing would pass quickly enough. I guess it pays to be some of the most chaotic members? 
Is there something going on?
Woozi, Junhui, Wonwoo, Dino 
☘︎ Oh these members are in trouble. Unlike those in the previous group, these 4 have rather predictable behaviour when they are on variety shows. Woozi would participate in all the games and discussions but he isn’t the most outgoing. Dino is just Dinoing? Like he’s the baby of the group but he acts very maturely when he’s on variety shows. Junhui and Wonwoo tend to be on the quieter side. 
☘︎ So, when you show up on the same variety show, their behaviour is just too different. Woozi, Junhui and Wonwoo would participate and be much more enthusiastic. Even if they aren’t cheering loudly, they would stare at you with pride and adoration in the same way that they would stare at the rest of the svt members. They also would not hesitate to talk to you or interact with you during the discussion portions of the show. 
☘︎ With Dino, I do see him turning to become more whiny or acting a little less maturely to some extent? He might even instinctively turn towards you when his members tease him, as if he’s seeking reassurance or refuge. Or even if he tries to act the same, he will frequently sneak not so subtle glances at you like a school boy in love. 
☘︎ It’s the freedom and comfort that is seen in your interactions and their behaviour towards you that would definitely make people question if there is something going on? The behaviour would go viral with viewers being split between “he’s just having a weird off day which happens” or “oh they are definitely dating, if not he likes y/n”. Both your weverse lives and social media posts would have so many comments asking about your relationship. The speculation would go around for a while and these members won’t be able to shake the rumours off for a while.
Business as usual
Jeonghan, Joshua, Minghao, Seungkwan, Vernon
☘︎ Of course he’s excited that you will be going on the same variety show as him! He loves watching you but unlike the members in the previous two points, he knows how to hide his reactions better. He’s a professional about it. His opinion is that the best course of action is to act like himself. That way nothing seems out of the ordinary. 
☘︎ Jeonghan will be cheeky as always (no one is spared from his cheating and tricks, not even you). Joshua smiles adoringly at everyone and is a gentleman so he gets a free pass either way. Minghao might be a little more quiet than normal but I see people brushing it off because Minghao isn’t the most outgoing member on variety shows. Seungkwan is a professional host anyway so his interactions with you would appear normal (although his tone and gaze might be a bit softer). Vernon… is just Vernon. He stares blankly, interacts with others normally, and takes frequent sips of water. Whether or not his gaze is fixed on you or not, no one can tell. 
☘︎ On the inside though, he’s squealing at how good you look, how cool you look, how adorable you are. He makes a mental note to give you extra hugs and affection later because watching you makes him fall in love with you all over again. He loves you so much, but at this point when you both aren’t comfortable publicising your relationship, he will do everything in his power to remain professional. He knows you are doing the same. You both want to keep your relationship out of the public eye and the unsolicited comments that come along with it. So for now, he’s content with showering you in love in private. 
☘︎ And just say that he slips up slightly, or if the hosts/ viewers makes any unsolicited comments about the two of you possibly being in a relationship, he will brush them off by saying he’s just being supportive of his fellow idols. He will be very firm about it, and he would make sure that they know not to try and pry into your private lives further. 
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee
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evergone · 5 months
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Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.
Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?
Too Friendly
Theodore Nott x reader
Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.
Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.
Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala
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“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.
“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.
“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.
Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.
Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).
The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.
She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”
He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”
“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.
“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.
Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.
“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”
Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.
Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.
“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.
“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.
“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”
His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”
Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.
“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.
“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.
“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.
“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.
“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”
“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.
You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”
When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.
A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.
“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”
Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.
“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.
“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.
You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”
“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.
“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.
He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.
“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.
“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”
For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.
“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.
“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.
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