#so here have something kind of sickeningly sweet

[judeswhore]

trick or treat

summary: jude just has to give the pretty trick or treater his number

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

notes: you can find my masterlist here. i don’t like this :( but oh well

"i wanna go to this house." elena stated, tugging lightly on your hand to turn you towards a house with a red door, her gaze fixated on the pumpkins set on either side of the entrance. she'd chosen that house, you knew, because of the great big "welcome" sign stuck to the front, each word dripping fake blood. whoever owned the house had done a better job at decorating than anyone else on the street and it immediately had the little girl thinking of the sweets she could get from inside.

before you could argue against it she was pulling you along with her, her bucket, already half full, swinging happily at her side. elena was a family friends daughter, a feisty seven year old who you'd been babysitting for years at this point and trick or treating on halloween was a tradition for the two of you. like every year she'd gotten you to dress up and this years costume was a simple fairy, a pretty green dress with fake wings that kept snagging on fences as you walked past. elena was a witch.

"hurry up!" a very bossy witch.

with a huff you let her drag you up the path, your eyes trailing along the windows of the house which seemed so dark you wondered if anyone was even home. elena was quick to knock on the door, bucket held in front of her as she flashed her biggest, brightest smile. her missing front tooth made her sickeningly adorable to most people and had definitely played a hand in why she'd gotten so many sweets.

there was a few moments of complete silence and you watched the little girls smile falter a slightly, her head turning so she could frown up at you. "where are-" her words were cut short when the front door finally swung inwards, her smile returning immediately. "trick or treat!"

the smell of pizza and tinkle of laughter hit your senses immediately, multiple voices overlapping each other to the point you couldn't make out the loud conversation happening just inside the house. the doorway had been taken up by an overly large body, all long legs and broad shoulders, cutting through the light that was spilling out from the hallway. something caught in the back of your throat, a noise halfway between a gasp and a cough when you lifted your eyes and met his gaze.

he was stupidly good looking. the kind of good looking that only ever brought trouble and heartbreak and your tummy was a riot of flutters over the crooked smile he was throwing your way. definitely your way. elena was too small to even be in his eye line. there was a spark of mischief in his dark eyes despite the sleepy look about them, all heavy lids and pretty lashes and you wondered just how many girls had gotten in trouble over those eyes.

you must have been staring in silence for more than a few moments because elena suddenly let out an impatient huff, her elbow digging harshly into your leg. she was glaring at you. “say it.”

the boy in the doorway cocked an eyebrow, presumably about the attitude and glanced between you and the girl at your side, curiosity sparking his gaze. with a roll of your eyes, you attempted a smile, one that seemed a little wobbly under the attention of someone so hot and raised the little pumpkin bucket you’d been carrying.

“trick or treat.” if possible, the boy’s smile grew even bigger, a full toothy grin that did something to your heart that surely wasn’t healthy. he leant a little against the doorframe, hands tucked into the front pockets of his grey joggers. the movement made his shirt stretch out a little over his chest and you cursed elena for choosing this house. why would she choose this guys house when you’re dressed as a knock off tinkerbell in a dress two sizes too small?

“depends,” there was a playful lilt to his voice and your body burnt as he shamelessly ran his eyes over the length of you. he lingered a little on your thighs, over exposed in your stupid dress, and again on your boobs, straining just a little beneath the green material. if your heart jumped anymore it was going to give out. “are you my treat?”

oh.

“i-uh- i’m not-“ you stumbled through a few potential answers, none of which would fully come out because your brain had stopped short and left you unable to form a coherent sentence. he was flirting. you were certain that was flirting and you were floundering like an idiot because no one this hot should be flirting with a girl in a stupid tinkerbell costume. the glint in his eyes seemed a little brighter at your response, his smile more a teasing smirk and he was standing a little straighter, almost looking proud of the effect he was having on you verbal abilities.

“excuse me, sir, you’re supposed to give us treats.” elena’s voice cut through your momentary daze and had you snorting a laugh, your finger knocking her witches hat askew.

“elena, don’t be rude.” you tried to sound firm but her glare at the lack of sweets was overly amusing. the little girl was about as scary as a kitten.

“no, she’s right. gimme a second.” the boy disappeared back into the house and elena turned her gaze up to you, catching you red handed with your eyes glued to his ass. she was grinning manically, hopping from foot to foot.

“he likes you.” she singsonged, rattling the sweets in her bucket until you pressed a hand over hers in hopes of getting her to stop. it didn’t stop the next words from tumbling out of her. “he was looking at you the way my dad looks at my mum before they start kissing.” she grimaced at that, clearly not happy about her parents public affection.

“he was not. stop being a gossip and fix your hat.” the hat was still sitting awkwardly on her head and she fumbled with it for a few seconds while trying to set it straight. she opened her mouth, no doubt to say something else ridiculous, but the pretty boy had reappeared in the doorway, a tub of sweets and chocolate bars held in his hands.

he dropped to a crouch in front of elena and shook the tub. “pick whatever you want.”

“do i just get one?”

“elena.” you muttered her name through a sigh but the boy was shaking his head, that grin curling his lips again. for a second you were distracted by his thighs, the thickness of them as he balanced in front of the little girl and only tugged your gaze up when he spoke again.

“no, it’s okay. y’can take as many as you want, don’t want you casting a spell on me to make my ears fall off.” he teased and elena giggled, seemingly just as charmed as you by his smile. she dug around in the box, brows furrowed as she searched for what she wanted.

“i wouldn’t make your ears fall off.”

“no?”

“no. i’d turn you into a frog.” she dropped a mars bar into her bucket before rifling through the treats again. the boy gave a thoughtful hum as he watched her knock a bag of haribos to the side.

“forever? or will you turn me back if i’m good?” he asked, shaking the tub just a little so she could see the sweets tucked at the bottom. you watched his jaw work as he chewed the inside of his cheek, your attention snagging on the stubble growing over the sharp line and across his chin. you were surprised by how badly you wanted to feel the roughness of it against your palm.

“nope. you have to kiss a princess or you’ll be a frog forever.”

“what about your friend? if i kiss her will i be saved?”

“yn’s not a princess. she’s a fairy.” elena gave him a “duh” sort of look that had him huffing a laugh but you were too busy trying not to think about kissing him. it was ridiculous to be so worked up about a stranger.

“well i don’t think i know any princesses.”

“then you’re going to have to live as a frog.” elena had absolutely no sympathy for the situation, completely unbothered as she dropped her final chocolate into her bucket with a grin. she shook the pumpkin. “chocolate is my favourite.”

“you’re also not allowed it past 6pm.” you pointed out, peering into the bucket with a grimace because her parents were going to kill you for all the chocolate bars. you’d promised light trick or treating but elena was taking home a whole chocolate factory.

“you’ll have to eat it in secret.” the boy told her as he straightened up, his gaze darting from you to the little girl. “i’m sure you could ignore one sugar rush for the sake of halloween.”

“you wouldn’t be saying that if you were the one who had to lure her into bed when she refuses to come out of the tree house.” that earned you a snort and a smile pulled at your lips. at your side elena started to tug on the bottom of your skirt, clearly eager to try a few more houses before her bedtime. you knocked your bucket against hers. “say thank you.”

“thank you for the chocolate, mister!” she beamed up at him and his laugh was full this time, a musical sound that made your tummy dip dangerously.

“don’t eat it all at once.”

“i won’t.”

“she will.” you mumbled and elena glared, pulled a little harsher on your skirt. you turned a smile towards the boy in the doorway. “thanks for the chocolate. you should’ve just given her a mini mars bar and told her to shove off.”

“and risk turning into a frog? nah.” he dipped his hand into his joggers and pulled out a slip of paper, held it out to you with a smile. you took it with a curious frown, felt your heart leap at the scrawl of numbers, JUDE and TEXT ME, written underneath.

“what’s this?”

“your treat.”

#hey jude :) #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham smut

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hazbin Boys x reader- Comfort ❤️‍🩹

This is a request from an anon- hazbin boys comforting reader with depression/mental illness. Includes Lucifer, Angel, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and just a dab of Alastor. Original request here + a heart felt message from yours truly 💌

TW: depression, mental illness, sickeningly sweet fluff

Notes: gn!reader, NSFW during Angel’s part 18+ plz

Lucifer 🍎

Oh my goodnessssssss, prepare to be treated like absolute royalty.

I’m talking foot rubs, back rubs, playing with your hair

Not only will he make you food, he’ll literally try to feed you and offer you sweet praises when you do eat. Eating can be a real chore sometimes…

“Good job, my love. It’s gonna be okay…okay?”

I think Luci is pretty touchy in general, but when you’re down in the dumps, he gets extra clingy and touchy

He’ll pretty much constantly have a hand on you- holding your hand, a hand on your back, a gentle rub on your shoulder

Will unfurl his wings and drag you close to him in bed, wrapping his arms and silky feathers around you as he lulls you to sleep

Like imagine a midday depression nap all tangled up with Luci, curtains drawn so the room is nice and dark, the temp is perfect, the bed is hugging you just as good as your babe next to is. Ugh. Plz, I want this. I need this.

Will try to gently coax you out of bed and try to get you out of the house. He knows it won’t be easy for you but he thinks getting you cleaned up, dressed and out doing something fun you’ll feel a bit better. You’ll at least be distracted from your sadness for a bit.

He’s so kind and nonjudgmental too. He gets it completely. He has depression too. Even the king of hell deals with mental illness, okay? Mental illness does not discriminate

He’ll offer the best advice he can muster up, using his own experiences to help you out of your funk

All in all, he’s just an absolute sweet pea. So doting, so caring.

Angel Dust 🕸️

Also has mental illness, also gets it completely.

KING OF DISTRACTIONS

Angel is a sweet boy but I don’t think he’d be too great at offering advice…

So he does his best to distract you from your feelings, doing whatever it takes to get you to smile, even just for a second.

Will ask you what you want to do first, whatever will make you happy, he’ll go along with it.

If you insist on rotting in bed, he’ll probably respectfully pull you out of bed, tell you “this ain’t good for ya, babe” and force you to go do something fun, something relaxing, something for yourself

Sorry not sorry but he’ll def offer to cheer you up by fucking you, letting you fuck him, eating you out, sucking your dick. Go ahead, take your stress out on him, he can take it ;)

Also the king of self care.

SPA DAY SPA DAY SPA DAY

Will draw you and him a bath, rub your shoulders while you sit in the warm water together, will even wash your hair for you

Forces you to wear a face mask with him lmao

“C’mon, (Y/N)! Lemme paint ya nails! You’ll look sooooo cuuuuuute~”

Expect lots of touching and kisses with him at night, especially if you’re having trouble sleeping

Rubs your back, rubs your arms, will rub gentle circles on your butt if you’ll let him, kisses your head, kisses your cheeks, kisses your nose

ALL THE KISSESSSSSS 💋💋💋

Husk 🃏

Okay listen…this guy is obvi a great listener and he’s pretty good at giving advice. Honestly, he’s probably the best person to go to.

Husk is an old soul, he’s pretty wise, has a lot of life experience, death experience, his own experience with mental illness and even addiction.

He could just listen to you talk for hours, waiting for you to pause before he replies. He’d never interrupt. He’s so patient with you 🥹

Will keep a close eye on you and any new habits you’ve seemed to pick up. He fixes his own issues with booze but he’s the type to say “do as I say, not as I do”

Won’t let you spiral into addiction like he did…it’s not an option.

I think Husk would be a good mix of “Come here, give Husker a hug. It’s alright, hun. Let’s go take a little nap, yeah?” and “Hey, I know what’ll cheer ya up!” *proceeds to show you the coolest, craziest magic tricks*

He’s a good balance of comfort and distraction

Anything he can do to help, just say the word

Will tell you funny shit he’s seen the folks around the hotel do just to see you laugh for a moment

“One time, Angel was walking right in front of the bar at like 7 in the morning and tripped over literally nothing and face planted! I had the best seat in the house. It was hilarious.”

This is my own personal headcanon, idk why but I feel like Husk can cook really well. He’d totally make you food, even bring it to you in bed if you don’t feel like getting up

Will absolutely let you play with him like a kitten, won’t even be upset about it. Play with his ears, give him pets, let his fur be your stim toy, let his purr soothe your achy heart

Sir Pentious 🐍

Plzzzz, he’s such a simp. I love this slippery, special little guy 💚

Big on cuddles! Will cuddle you all day, all night if you want. Loves the physical contact, and loves it even more when he can feel you relax a bit against him.

Will make his eggs boys do anything for you. Whatever you want, you tell them and they’ll happily oblige.

Kinda random but I think he’d be the type to try and pull silly little pranks on ppl around the hotel just to get you to laugh. He’s such a silly goose omg

He doesn’t really understand what you’re going through so he’ll just keep asking you what he can do, how he can help, what you want, what you need from him.

He doesn’t get it but he’ll do anything for you.

When you’re feeling particularly lazy and it’s extra hard to leave your bed, he’ll literally carry you around. Just lounge in his arms, darling, he’ll take you wherever you need to go. Don’t need to go anywhere? Fine, you’re gonna come along with him to do his daily tasks. Sit in his lap and just watch as he works.

Just wants to keep you close. He can’t stand the thought of you being alone when you feel like this. No matter where he is or what he’s doing, he wants you close.

Unless you insist on having some alone time or needing some space. Again, whatever you need from him, you got it.

Although, he may get a little teary eyed and pouty when he leaves you. Can’t stop thinking about you all day and probably comes and checks on you several times.

Vox 🖥️

“CANCEL MY MEETINGS, HOLD ALL MY CALLS, TELL EVERYONE IM NOT RESPONDING TO EMAILS UNTIL TOMORROW!”

Guy needs to focus on his baby right now. You are his top priority, everything else can wait. You are just too precious to put on the back burner.

Will be sure to tell Val and Velvette to leave you two alone. He doesn’t want them upsetting you any more than you already are.

This man has his assistants waiting on you hand and foot. He’s gonna stay in your bed with you, cuddled up with tons of blankets, both in your pajamas as you watch movies while ordering his staff to bring you whatever it is you desire.

Will eventually yank you out of bed bc he can’t stay still for too long but you’re coming with him. Wants to keep you company always

In public, Vox isn’t the most romantic or touchy. He’s a busy man with a huge reputation to uphold. While he would never completely ignore you and he’s no ashamed to show some PDA with you, you sort of always find yourself following in his shadow when he’s hard at work.

Once he sees how much your mental health is affecting you, he becomes much more attentive, much more protective of you.

He’ll hold your hand or keep his arm around you when out and about. Will give you a gentle kiss and a prideful smile before getting on set for a news shoot.

If you’re having a particularly hard day, everyone get out of the way! Hes taking the day off, he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone says or thinks.

You are too important to him. Without you, what good would all his accomplishments be? Without you, who would he share all this with?

He needs you to stick around 🩵

Alastor🩸

I think Alastor would be absolutely clueless but he’d try his best nonetheless!

He’d also be one to try and distract you.

Wanna go to cannibal town and visit Rosie? She’ll help cheer you up! She’s a great listener with tons of good advice to give

Will reluctantly invite you into his room and lead you to the half of it that looks like a swamp/forest. He will take off his coat and sit in the grass with you, staying silent but watching you look around in awe.

He’s got lots of cool powers and will summon or manifest little things here that he thinks will bring a smile to your face.

Summons little lightning bugs to carefully dance around your face, holds back from slaughtering a deer that’s approaching just so you can admire it from afar, will watch with a genuine smile as you lay back in the grass and relax to the sound of crickets chirping and light jazz music.

If you asked…he might give you a hug. Might.

Also sends his shadow to check up on you every so often but if you notice this, he will deny it with all his might.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin x reader #angel hazbin x reader #hazbin angel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust x reader #angel hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader

[minimujina]

you make me so nervous !

sᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ. heizou, albedo, wanderer/scaramouche x f!reader

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. reader has a dendro vision, and when you get flustered or injured your powers go crazy :0

ᴄᴡ. sickeningly sweet fluff, wanderer is given a name, wanderer’s is a bit different than the other two so specific warnings are right before his, ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!

heizou had never met someone so easy to read in all his days of observing people.

the mere presence of the detective seemed to fluster you impossibly—and your dendro vision would react in accordance, much to your dismay.

take the time that you decided to go for a mid-morning walk—something you didn’t usually do. you were looking for easy ways to change things up, bored of the stagnancy that so often came with a rigid schedule.

upon seeing you, the detective was surprised, since he knew that you were usually in your garden at this time of day. he shrugged it off, though, approaching you eagerly. and i’m not saying that he had the intention of frightening you, but that’s exactly what i’m saying.

“my dear sweetflower!” heizou exclaimed, startling you with an obnoxious poke on the shoulder. sweetflower was an endearing nickname he’d come up with when he first met you. “what brings you here at this fine hour?”

mischief and arrogance seemed to just seep from his voice. but still, he was a good friend to you, and a good person. just a bit of a bastard.

you gave a loud yelp and a flinch—he had to steady you with his arms amidst good-natured laughter to keep you from smacking him.

after you’d calmed down and he stopped laughing, heizou noticed something peculiar and novel: flowers had begun to bloom in your hair. by the time heizou had released you from his grasp, the mess atop your head had become more than abundant with clusters of posies.

you were none the wiser, since you were too busy trying to sort out your muddled thoughts—but heizou brought the issue to your attention with a silvery hum and a grin, reaching behind your ear to pluck a single leaf from its vine.

“did i scare you that much, dear?” the detective’s voice was teasing, but kind, and his smile more than reached the marks under his eyes. he was clearly amused at this predicament of yours.

the next time, however, had nothing to do with you being startled. you simply took notice of heizou in the distance—and the next thing you knew, flowers were sprouting up like weeds all around you. the detective hadn’t spotted you, though, so you bunched up as many of the fresh sumeru roses and sweetflowers in your little arms as you could, scurrying away in a panic.

ever since then, this problem persisted relentlessly. you’d learned to control it more with time, but every chance encounter with the detective spelled your inevitable embarrassment—at least one plant would spring up somewhere in the vicinity, and more often than not it would be in your own hair. heizou honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it—he might have been good at discerning motives and teasing out evidence, but for the life of him, he couldn’t unravel your seemingly complex feelings about him.

it was the beginning of the end when the detective stumbled upon a peculiar path of flowers and droopy vines. it was painfully obvious that they did not belong there among the sakura, and heizou had a feeling that he knew just who the culprit was.

after following the trail for no more than a few minutes, he was confronted with an amusing sight—you, sprawled on the ground, snarled in the sheer abundance of plants that seemed to have tripped you. he wondered what you’d been running from that made you so afraid.

heizou flashed you a smug smile, but he leaned over to lend a hand anyways. and yet, more flowers sprouted to shroud you from his view, as if tucking you away. but the glimpse of fear he’d seen in your eyes was enough for him to finally come to a conclusion—it was him you had been running from.

but.. you weren’t scared of him. this he knew.

you liked him.

oh, what an ego boost this was for shikanoin heizou.

he sighed, almost dreamily. “oh, my little sweetflower, you can come out now—i know about your little crush on me, so there’s no need to keep running away.”

when you made no move to emerge, heizou smiled to himself. of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“love,” he mused, “what i’m saying is that i—“

suddenly, heizou’s throat tightened. it came out of nowhere; he was so confident when he started, and this went so smoothly in his head. so why did his tongue suddenly feel so heavy? why did his chest burn the way it did?

it took the detective a moment to collect himself—he found it difficult to quell the sudden thought that maybe he liked you even more than he realized.

deep breaths, detective.

“what i mean to say is..”

another deep breath, heizou.

“i find you rather.. endearing.”

he cleared his throat, unconsciously stuffing his hands in his pockets. oh, if only he could see himself—he was being so obvious that even an amateur could see right through him.

“well, that is—i like you.”

he hadn’t meant to say it so plainly, but it seemed that his words, however hesitant they were, gave you the push of courage you needed.

the flowers parted ever so slightly to reveal your eyes again, less terror-filled, though still quite shaken.

but what was most surprising was the detective’s expression—you caught it for only a split second, but it was there. his eyes were blown wide, as if he were incredulous with himself. but a whimsical grin that could fool anyone quickly replaced all evidence of that uneasiness.

“…really?” you whispered, voice thinned and small, as if you’d swallowed your confidence.

a baffling, earnest sincerity crept into heizou’s expression—of all the times he’d been able to conceal his true feelings, this was not one of them.

“really.” his response was firm, his gaze softer than it had ever been.

“and..” you took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at the detective. “…you aren’t bothered by the whole…flower thing?”

heizou laughed mirthfully—“why would i be?”

under the cover of your plants, you fiddled with the petals of a sumeru rose as you spoke. “i don’t know.. it’s just embarrassing, is all. i thought it was overbearing.”

“oh, dear,” heizou tutted. “was it blatantly obvious? yes, yes it was”—your expression turned sheepish—“but overbearing? you? never.”

heizou reached out to part the sea of plants away from your face so that he could properly see you, letting one hand linger to lift your chin. “ah, there’s my lovely girl,” he grinned. “now, let’s get you out of here, shall we?”

and with that, your shaky little hand emerged to place itself in heizou’s steady palm, and he pulled you up, watching as the leaves and florets spilled all around your form like water.

and for once, heizou had nothing to say. all he could think about was the feeling of your small hand in his own, and how beautiful you looked in that moment. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were the long-departed goddess of flowers herself.

heizou very promptly decided that he could not tolerate the way his heart was acting. no, no, no, it was simply out of character. you were the one who was supposed to be flustered—not shikanoin heizou, the tenryou commission’s top detective, a young and brilliant genius whom nothing could unnerve.

the detective tugged you forward suddenly, fastening his hands around your waist as he stooped down—but he froze just before he reached your lips. he seemed to study you, admiring the brightness in your eyes, the dancing reflection of sunlight.

“wanna make out?” he asked out of the blue, a shit-eating grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

what you wanted was to slap him for his god-awful sense of humor.

but also yes, you did want to make out.

you decided to make this very clear by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and just making the move yourself for once. from the way he smiled into your lips, your intuition told you that he liked your spontaneous impatience.

when albedo discovered that his own presence regularly caused your vision to malfunction, his curiosity surrounding you became insatiable.

he would hum, stepping around you in a measured circle while he observed the various flowers that had sprouted from your vision. a thick vine had found itself stuck to the surface of your vision, almost as if it were trapped in the glass, not fully emerged. it trailed all the way to the ground of albedo’s workshop, branching off into more vines with sweet flowers, roses, and all sorts of pretty blossoms.

“how peculiar,” the alchemist murmured. “i’ve never seen anything quite like this before.”

yeah, me neither, you wanted to mumble and grouch, but you settled for a subtle pout instead.

albedo hummed thoughtfully again before completing a full circle around you, coming to face you eye-to-eye. you could see the mischief in his gaze, and your tummy fluttered with nervous anticipation—one could never know what the chalk prince would do next.

“i wonder… could we possibly encourage the vine to grow more? perhaps then it wouldn’t be stuck—which, again, is fascinating in itself.”

albedo was staring at you so intensely that you couldn’t make yourself meet his gaze. he continued nonetheless, “i’ve really never heard of someone’s powers emerging straight from the vision and manifesting that way. you are very curious—very curious indeed.”

seeing your blank expression and watery eyes, albedo decided to continue with his procedures in a more considerate fashion. he understood that you probably felt scrutinized, but he didn’t mean it that way, truly. he was filled with genuine curiosity about this predicament—though perhaps he did have an ulterior motive hidden somewhere.. but who’s to say?

“let’s go ahead and see if we can make it grow, then, shall we?” oh, there was so much mischief in his voice, and you did not like it one bit, nor did you like the way your stomach buzzed.

albedo suddenly leaned down very close to the side of your face—close enough that you could hear his gentle breathing and feel it fan across your blushy cheek.

“would this suffice to do the trick?” he asked lowly; you spotted his subtle grin out of the corner of your eye.

and sure enough, the floor all near ruptured with greenery, so many flowers poking up through the cracks of the dirt that it almost looked like a garden in the middle of this dry, frigid mountain.

“oh, my,” albedo chuckled, his mirthful gaze burning your face. “that did the trick indeed.”

you stepped back out of shame, though your flustered expression failed to escape him—nothing could ever fool those sharp eyes of his.

how endearing, he thought, amused at the manner in which your feet shifted and the way your cheeks bloomed a shade much darker than before.

hoping to quell your fears, albedo leaned down to pluck a single flower from its stem—a cecilia, native to mondstadt, yet fabricated by your own hand. he approached you to carefully tuck it behind your ear, his hand lingering for but a moment to brush your cheek.

another cecilia popped up from the ground, right next to albedo’s feet—your hands flew up to cover your face.

this prompted a warm chuckle from the alchemist. your anxiety subsided a bit at his comforting, familiar laughter.

his hand remained near your cheek, thumb just barely ghosting the skin; it was as though you were made of a delicate porcelain he was afraid to crack. and yet, oh, and yet, the way he was looking at you was so piercing that you thought you may fall apart at the seams. those eyes of his drilled holes into your face, but their gaze still held so much affection—how could he possibly analyze you with that cold calculation and still make you feel so warm inside?

“it’s still stuck in the vision,” he murmured without breaking eye contact, his even and composed voice dragging you out of a daydream; it took you a moment to realize he was talking about the plant. although.. his hand was still cupping your cheek. your heart thumped in your ears like a rabbit’s foot to the ground—why was he still touching you? this wasn’t like the distant, calculated albedo you were certain you knew… though it’s not like you minded.

the alchemist took a step forward with one foot, slow and careful. the other followed suit, bringing him ever closer, so that now you could feel his breath against your cheek again. it was a stark contrast to the frigid atmosphere, and a shiver racked through your body at his touch. and that was when you realized just how close he was—so close that your noses almost brushed; so close that he was craning his neck to meet your gaze; so close that you almost thought he might…

..well, albedo just couldn’t help himself, could he? archons, he knew he was supposed to be trying to fix the problem with your vision, but this entire experiment was his own self-indulgence at this point. but he would not be doing it if he didn’t already know that you were quite taken with him—your vision going haywire when he got close to you gave albedo all the evidence he needed to come to the conclusion that you were smitten.

and so, when the alchemist placed his other hand on your jaw, holding your face with that steadiness and carefulness you knew he possessed, more flowers sprung up around your feet. but neither of you cared.

“this should fix it, yeah?” albedo mumbled, and before you could even process what he had said, he was swooping down to capture your lips in a kiss.

it was gentle yet fervent, brief yet fulfilling. your whole body felt warm and fluttery, so when he pulled away, you found yourself leaning forward and standing on your tippy toes as if to beg him not to—but he did, just so that he could see the expression on your face: flushed, sheepish, happy, perplexed. he was satisfied knowing that his own affections were very obviously returned.

before you knew it, his lips were crashing into yours again, just a bit more eager this time. you had no idea the great albedo was capable of such a feat as this—you’d never even entertained the thought of him reciprocating your feelings. it was just out of the question to you, until now.

albedo’s lips were slightly cracked from the cold, but there was nothing unpleasant about it. he held your face so gently and rubbed his gloved thumbs over your skin so tenderly that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but he took the liberty of grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. you could feel his breathing, feel the air fill and vacate his lungs, feel how he shuddered when a sudden wind invaded the workshop.

the chilled air did not help your flustered state, for your knees had already buckled more than once, and albedo’s hold on you was the only thing keeping you standing. for now, though, his lips remained on yours, and plants continued growing in his workshop until there was literally no space to walk.

albedo didn’t mind. the vision had fixed itself due to your excitement, allowing the vine to mature properly. though not to mention…a few other plants had joined in on the process.

but he loved this. he loved the view, he loved your presence, and he loved how beautiful you looked when he pulled away: eyes shining, lips a bit swollen, cheeks rosy. the fact that he could no longer move in his workshop didn’t matter so long as you were here.

he was going to paint you like this when he got the chance, he decided—and there would be no lack of flowers to reference, that’s for sure.

ᴛᴡ. ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!!!1!1!! FROM HERE ON OUT !!1! ……… mentions of the reader being injured, not specified from where (nothing too descriptive); flowers grow from the reader’s wounds (again, not too descriptive); slight angst but it is immediately fluffified and everything else is good :] auntie buer basically assigned him a babysitter and thats you ehehyeyegeh

the wanderer had gone by many names in his lifetime, names that engendered fear into his enemies and allies alike.

though, had he ever really had an ally after the losses he had perceived as betrayals? in reality, scaramouche held everyone at arms length no matter what, never allowing anyone close enough to see, much less touch, the fragile shards of his psyche.

but you—an insignificant little woman, his appointed caretaker—you had given him a name.

it was unlike any of the other titles he’d been assigned. rather, this time, it wasn’t even so much that you had assigned it to him, but that it had been set aside for him—like you had let him step into it on his own, try it on for size, and decide if it suited him.

it’s a name that was reserved for him by someone kind. someone with good intention. someone who reminded him too much of the ones he had lost.

you called him junpei. pure. genuine.

the wanderer found it amusing how ironic your choice was. but upon seeing your eager grin, he could not bring himself to reject the name.

junpei.

was that how you saw him? or was it what you wanted him to be?

“junpei, would you help me with this?” sure, he would—did he have a choice, anyways?

“jun, have you eaten?” no. food was not a necessity to him, as he was a puppet. but you would make him eat regardless.

“you look tired, jun, did you sleep alright?” no. he did not sleep alright. but he felt a bit better after hearing those words come out of your mouth, truth be told.

after hearing the name (and its subsequent nicknames) on your lips day after day, it began to feel less strange. in fact, he even started to like the way it rolled off your tongue so easily.

and he liked the way you cared for him.

why did you do it?

he didn’t know. he couldn’t even begin to guess why you took on the task of watching after him. he knew how much a piece of work he was.

it turned out that you just genuinely believed in new beginnings and second chances for everyone—and to you, the wanderer, junpei, was no exception.

he was not aware, but the reason you named him junpei was because of the first time he fell asleep in your presence. his face—it was so quiet. his expression was subdued. he had become gentle.

if it was possible for him to look so peaceful in his sleep, then you were confident that he was made up of something much milder on the inside—something tender, something soft, something placid that he had carefully tucked and folded away, hidden from the prying eyes of anyone who would ever try to hurt him again.

but you did not want to hurt him. you wanted to show him beautiful things, wonderful things—things that require that benign temperament to appreciate. and if you had to give him the stars and the moon to make him open up, to make him show you that small, humane fragment of himself, then so be it. you weren’t going anywhere.

he never truly began to trust you until your own insecurities and weaknesses were exposed.

it was beyond the wanderer how someone so seemingly innocent and sheltered could be littered with so many wounds—so many wounds, and so many scars.

but then, under that short cape you never removed, there were the flowers.

pretty flowers that grew from your arms, that sprouted from the ugly gashes like beautiful weeds, that made you feel ashamed and gross. lovely flowers that were not so lovely to you. flowers that illustrated your pain. flowers that only served to make your skin crawl and remind you of what you had suffered.

it astounded the wanderer when you admitted that you had never shared this with anyone else, had never taken your cape off in the presence of another. this was a secret, something special, a sign of your trust and dedication to staying by his side. even if this was your job, he realized in that moment that this had never been just a job to you. you were there for him.

but.. still, he had his suspicions that you only wanted to “fix” him. so it wasn��t until he’d witnessed your composed display crack, fissure, and boil over that the wanderer began to trust you completely.

“jun,” you cried. it was such a helpless, pathetic sight—or, that’s what scaramouche would have thought. but junpei found himself rushing to your side, something inside his chest pounding wildly against the ribs caging it. a feeling of desperation began to claw its way out of his stomach when he saw your tears.

and the flowers. they crowded your arms, one of your thighs. were they lovely, or were they horrendous? he could not decide.

there was one tiny flower on your cheekbone. a small, yellow daisy, poised there as if your face had been its home all along.

the wanderer spat curses under his breath. “you idiot.. you stupid, stupid human..” his breathing became erratic as a violent panic overwhelmed him.

“what did you do?”

his voice was painful and strained. quiet. but most of all, it was angry.

you couldn’t give him a proper response, only shaking your head as more tears spilled from your eyes. and at this, a hole formed itself in the wanderer’s gut.

that old fear. that feeling. that horrible, dreadful, terrifying feeling.

suddenly, he was kunikuzushi again, watching the people he loved abandon him. break their promises to him.

you promised. you promised him.

but hadn’t they all?

what could a promise even mean anymore if it could be so easily broken?

you could see the gears turning in his mind, the rage that you hadn’t witnessed in so long shifting and blazing behind his eyes. and you knew you had to say something.

“i’m not going to die, you know,” you muttered, using what little strength you had to give him a watery smile. “i’m only crying like a little bitch because it hurts, okay, jun?”

his expression immediately shifted, as if the anger had been doused by a bucket of water—but it wasn’t relief you saw. it was sadness.

“i promised you, didn’t i?” you whispered, noticing how his face contorted into something distraught. slowly, painfully, you extended your pinkie from your arm’s limp place on the ground, and though it took him a moment to consider, the wanderer linked his fifth finger with yours.

“you did,” he replied, his voice no more than a whisper. then, humorlessly, he smiled, all color drained from his face. “so you better not break it.”

“is that a threat, my dear wanderer?”

he couldn’t fight the genuine upturn of his lips—you always chose the most inappropriate times to make an attempt at comedy. the wanderer shook his head, gently pinching your unwounded cheek while he chastised you with something like affection in his voice.

from then on, junpei tended to you as if curating a garden, as if you were a little flower he had planted and helped grow all along. not once would he allow you to put yourself in danger—and if you tried, he would flick your forehead and make you sit in the tent in time-out. but if you really pushed him, really, he could get genuinely angry with you, but only because he cared for you. the worst he’d ever do was raise his voice at you, and even then, you could hear in his tone how worried he was under the aggression.

at some point, you realized that junpei had only become this caring since the day he witnessed you so vulnerable. it was as if he had not allowed himself to trust you completely until he was certain that you needed him, too.

you couldn’t blame him for it—you were glad to know that he no longer viewed vulnerability as a weakness. it was a sign that he was healing and finding comfort in something other than the despair he’d harbored for so long.

“juunyyy,” you sang from your tent, where you had been forcibly stowed away under a nest of blankets and shoved into junpei’s suzukake (outer robe). you were sick, and dreadfully so.

when he poked his head through the flap of the tent, the way your face distinctly brightened upon seeing him made the wanderer’s stomach plummet to the floor. granted, you were a bit loopy from the fever, but it’s not the first time you’d looked at him like that. he felt himself falling in love with you all over again every time he saw you—now in particular, since you were bundled up in his jacket looking so awfully adorable.

“what is it?” he asked, trying with all he had to conceal the fondness in his voice with a scowl. your coy smile hinted at his unfortunate failure.

“i have something for you,” you whispered giddily, even though nobody else was around, and there was nothing you’d said that even remotely suggested you needed to whisper.

junpei sighed, entering the tent with an air of indifference despite how his chest fluttered. your childish grin was really making it hard for him to keep up the act, though.

and when you placed a flower crown on his head, taking the time to smooth down his dark, inky hair to make a place for it, junpei thought it was really going to be the end of him.

this is it, he mused. i’ve officially become soft.

what would scaramouche think if he saw himself now?

but.. that didn’t matter, did it? no, no it didn’t. it truly did not matter. he was no longer bound by the person he had been—or rather, the puppet. the heartless balladeer. scaramouche.

maybe you’d seen this in him all along. maybe you’d always known he would thaw out someday. maybe that was why you had called him junpei.

if that was the case, he suddenly realized that you were smarter than he gave you credit for. perhaps he had judged that dense pea-brain of yours too harshly, no?

..archons, but you were still so stupid at the same time.

he found himself scoffing at the conclusions he’d reached about you—and he had the sudden urge to wipe that goofy little smile off your face.

so he threw all caution to the wind, grabbing your chin, albeit a little rougher than he’d meant to. there was nothing stopping him from kissing you anymore, so he did just that. although he was a bit stiff about it at first.

after a few moments, his rigid posture softened, and he let go of your chin to instead cup your face, a surprising tenderness to his touch—at the same time, you recovered from your shock, becoming lucid enough to wrap your arms around his neck and reciprocate the way he pressed into you.

a few minutes later, the two of you were breathless and rosy-cheeked, and the wanderer’s steady hands held you closer than they ever had before. you remembered when they used to shake and tremble—it warmed you to think just how much you’d seen him grow.

even though you’d both surely had your fill of kisses, he kept leaning in and stealing more small pecks from your lips while you dissolved into laughter. every time a giggle managed to escape you, it was swallowed by a chaste, almost playful, kiss, something you didn’t know your grumpy little wanderer was capable of. more uncontrollable laughter soon followed each time his lips left yours.

the wanderer’s assault of smooches finally stopped when your amusement started to die down. the two of you were left with a tender moment as he held you firmly, closely, his eyes making a silent promise to you that he was the one you could depend upon now. that you didn’t have to babysit him anymore. his loyalty belonged to you.

well, it’s not like you couldn’t infer that from the way he’d just desperately made out with you. but the reassurance was nice!

he rested his head on your shoulder, almost in a defeated manner, as if all that affection had truly exhausted him to the bone. you found that very amusing. and of course, as always, you’d spotted the perfect opportunity to say something that would no doubt ruffle his feathers.

“ . . . you know i’m sick, right? ”

thank you for reading😳

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

#mujimade #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #albedo x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #heizou #shikanoin heizou #albedo #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p2. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you never thought the day would come where you would have to choose between your two best friends. but how do you say goodbye to someone who became one of your reasons for living? ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warning: angst with tons of pining and heartbreak, sfw, heavy s2 spoilers, pet names, cursing, mentions of death ➼ wc: 3.1k words ➼ a/n: here's the anticipated part two of this fic! can definitely read this part on its own as a standalone, but highly recommend reading part one for the full angst effect ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

You didn’t know how you got here. 

One minute you were on a mission. The next minute you were a fugitive on the run.

When Suguru and you left for the village, you didn’t expect to be standing in front of a caged cell that held two little girls. They were twins and looked to be no more than the age of five. Crouching down to match their eye level, you saw just how disheveled and scared they were between the bars. Clothes tattered, skin covered in dirt, eyes wide with fear. How cruel.

“Hello. I’m (y/n). That’s my friend Suguru,” you introduced softly, not wanting to spook them. Suguru nodded at them in greeting with a smile. “What are your names?”

“Nanako,” the light brown haired twin answered in a near whisper.

“Mimiko,” her black haired twin counterpart responded after.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you smiled, leaning closer to them to whisper so that only they could hear. “Let’s get you out of here quickly, yeah?”

The girls looked back at you with surprise before a small smile appeared on their faces, nodding. You and Suguru were the first people to show them any form of kindness in this village. Unfortunately, their happiness was short-lived.

“These two are crazy! They used their mysterious powers to attack the villagers, right?” a male villager accused them both.

Furrowing your brows, you exchange glances with Suguru who shared the same sentiments as you. You both had already exterminated the cause of those incidents when you arrived.

“No, it’s not them,” Suguru exhaled, a hand on his head as he massaged his temple in disdain.

Ignoring his words, an older woman added more fuel to the fire, “My granddaughter was nearly killed by these two, too!” 

Nanako defended, “That’s because she-”

“Shut up, you monsters! I knew we should have killed you two as babies!”

“Watch your mouth,” you snapped, maneuvering your body to shield the twins from the vile woman. The girls immediately sought refuge behind you.

You couldn’t believe the words coming from them openly talking about killing the girls when they were sitting right there. You felt so sorry for the two. Based on what the villagers were saying, these poor children most likely hadn’t received an ounce of love in their lives. Instead they were treated like animals.

It was just like you to put yourself in harm's way to protect others with no hesitation. It was one of the reasons that made Suguru fall in love with you. It didn’t come as a surprise to him to see Nanako and Mimiko already taking a liking to you. 

Looking at the three of you, something in Suguru snapped. Lowering beside you, he offered you a gentle smile.

“Do me a favor. Once I step out, let the girls out and cover their ears. Stay here. I’ll come back for you three when I’m done,” he instructed.

“What? Why?” you asked in confusion. “Sugu… What are you about to do?”

He ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll be right back. Now be a good girl for me.”

You looked at him wearily. There was something different about him right now that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You also didn’t like how vague he was being. Still, you hesitantly agreed. Satisfied, Suguru stood up to face the villagers in the room.

“Everyone, shall we step outside for a moment?” he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile gracing his face. 

You were prepared for when you successfully freed the girls from their confines with Mimiko and Nanako instantly falling into your awaiting arms. Instructing them to cover their ears, you held them close and placed your hands behind their heads, letting them rest their faces against your chest.

“It’s okay, I got you. You’re safe now,” you promised them. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

What you weren’t prepared for was the fiery blue flames that illuminated the village and the screams that ensued after.

A few days later, it was a beautiful day in Shinjuku. People were going on about their business as they maneuvered among the busy streets. The air was full of chatter with the hustle and bustle of city life. 

“I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are false?” Shoko inquires with a smile.

Suguru shakes his head at the female sorcerer, “Nope. Unfortunately not.”

Shoko takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing white whips of smoke that dissipate into the air. “You know what, I can expect you to be able to pull off this kind of thing. But did you really have to drag (y/n) with you too? Where is she anyway?”

Suguru fights the urge to grin at the mention of your name. Crossing his arms, he peers up at the clouds drifting across the azure sky. “She’s-”

“-right here.”

The two turned their heads at the sound of your voice as you approached them, a bag full of pastries in tow. You waved shyly at Shoko who was relieved to see you unharmed. You were one of the few female friends that she had at school. It came as a big surprise to her when she heard the news of your shared sentence with Suguru. It didn’t seem like you to commit mass murder. Then again, neither did Geto.

“There’s Ms. Partner-in-crime. I was just about to ask Geto why this little situation came to be,” Shoko filled you in.

You shift awkwardly in place, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing your discomfort, Suguru swiftly answers back, “I’m going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. (y/n) here is the lucky girl who gets to help me.”

“Is that so?” the brunette laughs. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re not children. I’m not holding out hope that everyone will understand,” Suguru responds. He glances over at you as you stare into the crowd and zone out of the conversation. As long as you were beside him, he didn’t care if no one else understood. At least he had you.

Shoko whipped out her cell and promptly entered a series of numbers before placing it to her ear. “Hey, Gojo? I found Geto and (y/n). Yeah, Shinjuku.”

Hearing Satoru’s name, your body immediately went into flight mode. Breath quickening, heartbeat accelerating, and anxiety swirling in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. You knew it was inevitable to see him when Suguru suggested going to Shinjuku for the day under the guise of buying treats for Nanako and Mimiko. But you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. What could you possibly even say to him after what happened?

Before your thoughts could spiral even more, you felt a warm hand slip into your left and the pastry bag removed from your right. Looking up, Suguru didn’t make eye contact with you, only squeezing your hand in reassurance. He always had a sixth sense for how you were feeling.

“Excuse us but we have somewhere to be. Goodbye, Shoko,” Suguru waves at her nonchalantly as if it were any other ordinary day and like he’d see her in class tomorrow.

She waves back and turns to make eye contact with you, an unreadable expression on her face. Before you could analyze it, Suguru gently tugs on your hand and leads you away with him and into the bustling crowd of Shinjuku. The two of you walked for a few minutes in silence before a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Explain yourselves.”

Stopping in your tracks, you felt a lump form in your throat. Your nails dug into Suguru’s hand, leaving red crescents upon his pale skin. Suguru tried not to flinch at the pain. He knew that this moment would be hard for you.

After receiving Shoko’s call, Satoru wasted no time and immediately teleported to Shinjuku in search of his two best friends. All he can think of is, why?  Why would you both do this? It didn’t make any sense. He needed answers and he wasn’t stopping until he got them. 

Among the sea of people, his eyes searched and searched until it finally landed on one of his targets. He didn’t need to see your face to know that it was you. After all, he had engrained every detail of you into his mind from the way you looked to the way you moved. Your name lingered on his lips, longing to call for you.

“You already heard from Shoko, right?” Suguru answered him back without turning around. “That’s all there is to it.”

Unhappy with his response, Satoru felt his blood begin to boil in anger. “So you’re just going to kill everyone that isn’t a sorcerer? Even your parents?”

Maybe it was the way your heartbeat was beating so loudly in your ears, but you could barely hear what the two men were saying despite being right there. You knew they were exchanging words but your mind refused to process them. Instead it focused on the way Satoru’s voice was plagued in confusion and betrayal. You and Suguru, his two closest friends, had betrayed him without a word.

“You’re going to kill all non-sorcerers and create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers? You know that’s impossible!” you heard Satoru bellow from behind you. 

“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru?” the black haired sorcerer retorted back, now facing the enraged male. “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or does being the strongest make you Gojo Satoru?”

You felt a chill go down your spine from Suguru’s cold tone so different from the honey one he always used towards you. Was this the Suguru you’ve known until now? But then you remembered everything Suguru had gone through up until this point. Swallowing disgusting curse after curse with nothing to show for it for himself. Watching his friends and comrades die in front of him. You understood the shift in Suguru’s beliefs. 

That being said, you also understood where Satoru was coming from. You knew deep down that this wasn’t right. Innocent lives were taken to create a world that may not even be possible. However, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. You were in too deep and if this was the hill you’ll die on, so be it. 

Frustrated with the conversation with Suguru, Satoru knew there was no changing that man’s mind. Suguru had zero regrets and had every intention of carrying out his new life goal. Shifting his focus to you, Satoru felt the anger clouding his vision slowly diminish, a sense of yearning overwhelming his senses.

His voice dropped to a low cry as he called out to you, “(y/n)...”

The moment your name left his lips, a wave of guilt settled into the pit of your stomach. You wish he hadn’t done that. In a perfect world, you would have turned around and ran into those strong arms that have held and protected you more times than you can count. You felt your resolve chipping away piece by piece.

But this world was far from perfect. You can never go back to the way things were. Still, you owed it to Satoru to properly say goodbye because you weren’t sure when you’ll ever see him again. 

You took a deep breath and stepped to turn around. Halfway through your turn, you felt Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, looking at you in confusion and slight alarm. Were you changing your mind and leaving him? However, his tense shoulders eased when you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, communicating with your eyes that you weren’t going anywhere. Nodding his head, he let go of you.

What the fuck? Satoru thought to himself.

Watching the scene unfold between you two, he felt an insecure stinging pierce in his chest. His six eyes bored holes at your interlocked hands. An unsettling feeling gnawed at him at the fond look in Suguru’s eyes which stared directly into your own. It was the same way Satoru looked at you. 

Fuck. His best friend, Geto Suguru, was also madly in love with you.

“Satoru.”

Satoru could almost cry hearing you call his name. You took a few steps towards him, maintaining eye contact as you did so. He also took a step towards you but immediately halted when you raised your hand up to stop him from getting any closer. Standing a few feet from each other now in silence, you felt your heart break at the sight of your once confident best friend who now looked so small in your presence.

“...Why?” he asked, the tension growing thick in the air.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you replied, “You don’t understand-”

“Then, make me understand!” Satoru shouted.

Storming directly to you, he stopped so that he stood inches away from your figure. One more step and he could pull you to him and away from whatever this was. It would be so easy. He stood before you with his infinity off, silently granting you the opportunity to reach out for him. He never had it on whenever he was with you. He trusted you to let his guard down because you made him feel safe.

Satoru continued to interrogate you as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.  “(y/n), I know you. I know you didn’t lift a finger to kill any of those people. You would never take the life of another if they didn’t deserve it. So, why are you doing this?”

“I can talk to the elders. I can convince them to reverse your sentence because you didn’t do anything. They’ll listen to me,” he begged you, voice quickening with every line. 

“Is it because I’m away all the time? I’ll stop taking on more missions or have them assign you with me. Just come home.”

He was beginning to ramble now as he felt himself grow more desperate to keep you. Satoru was never the type to get down on his knees for anyone except you. 

Throughout the years, he fell for you hard. You had the power to render him weak with just your smile, the air leaving his lungs at the way you took his breath away. Your calming presence grounded him and brought him back to reality whenever things became too intense. It was the way you understood his thoughts and feelings before he even knew of them. You held his heart in the palm of your hands and right now you were completely destroying him.

Against your better judgment, you caressed the left side of Satoru’s face. The man immediately leaned into your hand as he melted at your touch, placing his hand over yours and seeking your affection. Brilliant blue eyes filled with anguish met your sorrowful ones. 

“Toru,” you smiled bittersweetly at him. “I can’t. The moment I go back, they’d kill me in a heartbeat. It’s too late for me. At least this way I’ll be protecting you.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around. I’m the one that’s supposed to be protecting you,” he argued back. “Sweets, this is insanity. You can’t possibly be okay with this. Do you honestly agree with him and this crazy non-sorcerer world bullshit?”

You let your hand fall from his face, watching him grimace from the action. “It doesn’t matter what I think. What’s done is done. I made a promise to Suguru that I’d be there for him.”

Satoru scowled, “And what about me, (y/n)? Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?”

That wasn’t fair. How do you explain to him that you were doing what you thought was best? As the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, Satoru will always have a community rallying behind him. Suguru had no one. You didn’t want Suguru to live a lonely life alone. You cared too much about him. Hence, you promised to be that one person he needed.

Satoru felt like ripping his hair out in agony. He could feel it. He could feel him losing you. Any traces of anger slipped out of his body. He looked at you desperately, looking crestfallen and utterly wrecked as he felt hot tears burn in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he begged, voice almost cracking in the process. “I’m already losing one best friend. I can’t lose you too.”

Closing your eyes to stop your own tears from falling, you could only whisper an apology back, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru didn’t need your apology. He knew that you could apologize a million times and in the end, he’d still forgive you even if you were tearing him apart. He also knew that you were extremely stubborn and even more loyal. You had made up your mind and this was you saying goodbye. His fists went rigid causing his knuckles to turn white from the intensity of his grip.

“So, this is it? This is the life you’re choosing?” he let out an empty laugh, the smile leaving his face once his gaze met Suguru’s who awaited behind you. “You’re choosing him?”

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his tall figure down to you into a tight embrace. Arms wrapping around you, he held you even tighter against him as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did. Breathing in your scent, he felt goosebumps rise on his skin when your lips brushed to whisper against his ear.

“This is me choosing you.”

Ripping yourself away from the snowy haired man, he stood stunned at your declaration and could only watch as you made your way back to Suguru’s side. The said male extended his hand back at you once more, pouting as you shook your head no. Vision blurring with tears, you walked past him and continued walking down the street to get as far away as possible, willing your broken heart not to look back.

Suguru could only sigh deeply. You just needed more time. Whenever you were ready, he’d be there every step of the way with open arms, forever set to love and protect you. Looking back at Satoru, he shot the distraught male a smirk and threw up a peace sign. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, he trailed after you before you could get too far. 

In a moment of panic, Satoru raised his hands to prepare an attack towards the raven haired male. After a mental struggle, he ultimately dropped his hands to his side, fists clenching hard. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have it in him to harm his best friend or else he’d risk harming you as well.

Satoru watched your figures disappear deeper into the crowd for perhaps the last time he’ll ever see you.

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #suguru geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo angst #geto x reader #geto angst #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fic

[kirosai]

❦ a shining beginning.

content warnings!: sagau, yandere themes, some ooc for the harbingers, cult au, original sagau (reader teleported into genshin), gn!reader

❥The fatui are the ones to fear. The enemy, the antagonists, but, even then you’ve always taken a liking to them. the heartbreaking stories of the harbingers, the motive of the tsaritsa and even the short world quests of the Fatui agents.

❥It was a faraway dream for you, and anyone else to meet the harbingers. They were fictional of course! So… what exactly do you do when you wake up in the shining walls of the Zapolyarny Palace?…

that doctor. dottore. he always prayed upon you in his experiments, hoping they were successful as can be. a man of ice they would call him. but naturally, he’d bow to you. How utterly ironic the man that wants to detest the seven would bow to you. though, you were the light that guided him throughout all of those tireless nights filled with despair. as did you with everyone else. so it’s only natural, right?

so if you could see under that mask you’d see nothing but amazement and respect towards you. i’d bet money on him removing his mask if you wished him to. he’d halt any experiment, any mission, all for you. technically he could say that it’s.. a way of worshiping you, yes? not even her majesty the tsaritsa deserves an ounce of the worship he gives to you on a daily.

tartaglia, or childe as we know, we’ve all met him! you understand don’t you? he’s nothing but loyal, following you around like a guard dog, taking whatever praises he could get out of you!. except. it was all through a wall. a wall he couldn’t break.. you could only think about his reaction to you here. here! right in front of him! The light that guided him through the abyss, the reason for living! you.!

all of his life, until you was pure darkness, you gave him the push he needed! the blood he sheds is all in the name of sacrifice for you. the effort, the tears, the lives, all for you! so please treat him kindly! all he wants is your love and he’ll do anything to get it! although, don’t push him too hard, won’t you grant him the mercy oh kind, enchanting creator?

pantalone. that banker with his smile, his words, sugarcoated for others, but pure sickeningly sweet honey for you. he bought the most expensive gifts for you, diamonds, sapphires, rubies, all that you could imagine. his demeanor to many is nothing but fake, sugar coated lies to make them shut up. but.. you. you were different. you had the one thing he searched for all his life; warmth from this mean, cold world.

your heart was pure gold. at least, as he saw it. nothing he’d seen before. your presence was unexpected, yes, but he secretly hoped that you wouldn’t leave. all he wishes for is to bask in your ever so divine presence. although, yes you deny any sort of yourself being a god. he brushes it off as just a simple test of loyalty, it pushes him more to keep accommodate you to the best of his abilities so you feel the need to stay. oh dear what have you gotten yourself caught into?

with his act of.. er. of trying to understand divine knowledge. scaramouche had missed your first appearance. He felt guilty, and more so angry. not at you of course, but at himself. do not fear. he’ll be back, after hearing the news about your return to teyvat, he’ll be running back like the puppet he is. afterall, you are his true creator.

he might beg for forgiveness, or he might just bow, no matter who’s he is in front of, he’s at your beck and call. and the others respect that, one thing they can all agree with is you. after all, this is just the bare minimum of what they will and can do for you. he just wants you as much as everyone else. being one of the lucky ones meeting you first in the story, he got self awareness sooner than the others. 

arlecchino, we’ve heard of her i'm sure. her loyalty to the tsaritsa is… questionable. although to you, it’s undeniable. something that the others may have a more difficult time of letting go of would be nothing but child’s play for her. she holds no true loyalty for the tsaritsa. and her majesty probably knows so, though she does nothing, because she knows how much you love arlecchino. to upset you would be a death wish.

so being able to see you in all your light and glory was eye-opening for her, looking back she never understood how she could’ve lived without you. as a child she dreamed of meeting you in person, now it’s finally happening! even a regular person could see it in her eyes. oh her eyes! how beautiful they are, she’s heard about you denying being the creator of teyvat, the god of gods, the beginning and the end, oh how she could go on and on! but, going forward, there is no reason to deny the absolute truth your grace!

“Wake up.” a gentle voice whispers.

A shame, you were having the best dream.

A bed, unknown at the least, although it was comfortable. It felt safe, oddly enough. Laying on your mattress, it was lined with white silken sheets, the soft smell of lavender filling your nose, it had the softest place you’ve ever slept on. it felt.. Unfamiliar. 

Ah well, might as well keep sleeping. Maybe your bed was just extra comfortable today..

Wait

Muffled speaking outside the door, the whispers were untranslatable. In a foreign language you guessed. Observing your space, you realized you were in a large room, palace-like, the soft crackle of the fireplace to your left seemed to be the only warmth of the room. not your own room, or even house to say so. It was cold, but beautiful.

Oh! Of course. You must still be dreaming haha. Why else would you be here? Might as well just go back to sleep and wake up. right?

Which is what you do, but the horror of finding out you couldn't, you tried everything you could.. In the span of 3 minutes you tried, going back to sleep, pinching yourself, closing your nose, then just closing your eyes really, really hard.

But, none of those worked, so it must be.. you were actually here. In real life. D-did you get kidnapped? Oh my god you got kidnapped! You have to find a way out, it’s just like those wattpad fanfictions!- holy crap your-

*creeek*

“Your grace? ah, you’re awake. Is everything alright? You gave us quite the scare there. Hmmh.” an all too familiar face.

Staring in awe, realization settles in. Wait… WAIT. That's Pantalone, from genshin impact?? this can't be real! And did he just say “your grace” is he talking about you??

“W-wait? huh? Where am I? and, what do you mean “your grace” ” you can only imagine what you look like right now.

“You’re in the Zapolyarny Palace in Snezhnaya of course. and why else would I be calling you your grace? you are the creator of Teyvat. Though, if you prefer another name, I'll be happy to oblige. ” a soft smile rises to his face. 

Gosh.. his voice is so euphonious. He walks closer to check your temperature, removing his glove and placing a hand on your temple. 

“Seems like your fever is gone.” his smile deepens. Dimples.

And before you can say anything someone else walks in.

All and behold another harbinger, Tartaglia!

“You seem to be getting comfortable. You were sent back to check on their grace, not to hog their attention.” the ginger says.

Flabbergasted, jaw probably hitting the floor, you still cannot understand what in the world is going on.

Pantalone turns to him. “Their grace’s fever has gone down. I’m just doing my duty, no need to be jealous.” his oh so perfect banker smile is put back on, but it seems a little less genuine towards Tartaglia.

“Uhm.. excuse me? But I think you have the wrong person, I'm in no way a god, just a regular person, also, what is happening??!”

the two stare at you, then each other, and back at you again, and then stare at each other.

“Ah... It seems as if the fever has contracted memory loss. Alert the second about this Tartaglia. Other than that. I will help their grace meet the others. maybe that will run their memory right.”

Tartaglia opens his mouth, but whatever he has to say never comes out, curiosity of what he was planning to say plagues you. Though he walks out before the thought can get any further. He’s most likely going to Dottore as told by the ninth.

“Now your grace, I understand your confusion, but let's go to the others. and I'm sure Her Majesty the Tsaritsa would just be delighted to know you are awake.”

a small nod comes from you, excitement spreads through your body, oh my gosh oh my gosh!! You’re going to be meeting The Harbingers and The Cryo Archon!! Although, it seems you're unable to look at the bigger picture of what your story has in store for you.

WHERE THE SAGAU FANS GO????

repost from old blog!

#sagau x reader #sagau #fatui sagau #sagau cult au #genshin x reader #genshin self aware #genshin childe #yandere genshin #pantalone #tartaglia x reader #arlecchino #fatui harbingers #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #dottore #dottore x you #dottore x reader #arlecchino x reader #fatui self aware #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #sagau dottore #scaramouche #{🌠}kirosai's.works #{🌼}the.original #kiro.dottore #kiro.pantalone #kiro.tartaglia #kiro.scaramouche #kiro.arlecchino

[weemssapphic]

You Make Me Feel

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Summary: At 49 years old, Larissa Weems is the principal of Nevermore Academy - a successful career woman whose dominating energy demands respect from everyone she comes into contact with. She is also a virgin. What happens when she finally meets someone who wants to have sex (and so much more) with her?

Words: ~6.6 | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: virgin!Larissa, internalized homophobia, hurt/comfort, nsfw (sickeningly sweet smut) - cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

A/N: after reading Hot Chocolate on ao3, I couldn't get the idea of virgin Larissa out of my brain so... here we are lmao

Larissa didn’t really know how it happened - the years had simply passed her by in a blur. She was a studious teenager, scoffing at her horny, unfocused peers. It’s not that she never had the opportunity, per se - there were boys who asked her out, who tried to ‘seduce’ her in that awkward, teenage boy way. They all disgusted her - she would wait until college, she reasoned, where she could find someone more mature.

So she left Nevermore behind for her studies. Here, the men - if they could be called such - were just as crude, just as unappealing. The thought of being touched by any one of them filled her with disgust. 

It wasn’t until her senior year of college, when she found herself smitten with one of her female professors, that she entertained the thought of being anything other than straight. It was a thought that had only crossed her mind once before, when she’d accidentally caught her roommate at Nevermore, Morticia Frump, getting undressed. She’d felt oddly… aroused at seeing the girl’s bare skin - and immediately pushed down those feelings. Larissa Weems was enough of a freak as it was - she didn’t need the label ‘lesbian’ stamped on her as well.

But at the age of 22, Larissa had to admit that it was strange she’d never wanted a boy to touch her. She’d gotten close once, during a heavy drunken make-out session with some boy at a freshman party - before freaking out completely and leaving the poor boy squirming uncomfortably at the edge of the lake. And so, at the age of 22, Larissa finally had to confront her very un-platonic feelings for women.

By the age of 49, she’d gone through all the stages of grief regarding her sexuality: she’d vehemently denied entertaining the very thought of being anything other than straight. She’d been angry, oh so angry - at herself, at the world, at Morticia, at the boy she’d kissed. She’d gone through all the what-ifs: what if she’d made a move on Morticia, what if she hadn’t been so uptight, what if her family had been more accepting. She’d even fallen into a bout of depression, realizing how sad and pitiful she was for being a lonely virgin who hated herself for something she couldn’t change.

She’d finally settled on acceptance. Larissa had accepted that she was a lesbian. But, through all those years, she’d been too busy hating herself and throwing herself into her work to entertain thoughts of actually dating. So now she was 49. And a virgin. And who would want to be with a 49 year old virgin?

Sometimes, Larissa could ignore those thoughts, push them down. Sex and dating aren’t everything, she’d reason. She didn’t need anyone else. She had a successful career that kept her busy enough, after all - it was her dream as a teenager, wasn’t it? 

Some days, though - days like today - it was harder to drown out the lonely, self-pitying thoughts. Days where she had a one-on-one meeting with you, for example. 

As one of the teachers at Nevermore, Larissa found you particularly alluring - everything about you seemed to draw her in, leave her wanting more. You carried yourself with such confidence, you challenged Larissa in ways that both delighted and aroused her. You were kind and chatty, interested in what Larissa had to say - she felt she could talk to you for hours.

And you looked so delicious. In her weakest moments, Larissa imagined how it would feel to have a woman’s hands on her body - and more often than not, it was your hands she pictured, your face that surfaced in her mind as she pleasured herself. She yearned to feel your lips on her own, your body pressed against hers. How delightful it would feel to finally, finally be touched, to finally feel desired.

Today was no different - when you knocked on her office door for the start of your quarterly review, Larissa had to take a moment to compose herself before calling out “come in.” Her breath hitched in her chest as you strode up to her desk, grinning widely and taking a seat across from her.

The review of your performance took no time at all - you were honestly one of her best teachers, well-liked by the staff and the students (even Wednesday Addams had yet to cause an issue in your class). With twenty minutes left of your scheduled meeting time, the two of you began to chat about various, non-school-related subjects. Larissa found herself relaxing more and more, and before she realized what she was doing, she found herself asking if you’d like to join her in her quarters at the end of the day for a glass of wine and a chat.

“Of course, Larissa.” You beamed, sounding eager - was it Larissa’s imagination, or had a faint blush crept up your cheeks?

After agreeing to come by at 7, you took your leave to prepare for your afternoon classes - Larissa walked you to the door, which she leant against as soon as it shut behind you. Oh God, what had possessed her? An entire evening in your presence would be torture for her… 

The worst part, somehow, was the fact that she knew you liked women - you’d brought up an ex-girlfriend once, Larissa had been taking a sip of coffee at the time and had nearly begun to choke. It was entirely plausible that you could… Larissa quickly shook the thought from her head. Even if you returned her affections, surely you’d hightail it out of there the second you found out how little experience Larissa had.

~~~

The afternoon passed quickly and soon Larissa found herself nervously pacing the length of her office, smoothing her sweaty palms over her dress to remove non-existent wrinkles.

Your knock sounded for the second time that day, and Larissa jumped at the sound. With a deep breath, she slipped into the persona she’d begun to adopt when dealing with the Mayor and other important figures - authoritative, even slightly seductive. It was the only way she wouldn’t crack under her nerves.

“Hello, darling,” Larissa husked as she opened the door and stepped aside to allow you to enter.

“Hey!” You’d changed out of your clothes from earlier into a low-cut blouse and a short skirt. A pair of simple black heels added two inches to your height, a fact that Larissa couldn’t help but find incredibly alluring. In your hand you held a bottle of Chianti, which you offered to Larissa. “Didn’t wanna come empty-handed,” you added with a nervous giggle.

“Oh…” Larissa’s heart fluttered at the kind gesture. “You didn’t have to.” She accepted the bottle with a grateful smile, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious.

“I know, I wanted to.” You grinned at her, finally stepping into the office and closing the door behind you. Larissa reached past you to click the lock - and immediately paled as you smirked at her.

“My, my, Principal Weems, trying to trap me here and get me drunk?” you teased. Larissa’s panic must have been evident on her face because you burst into laughter and placed a reassuring hand on her arm - her skin burned at the contact as if it had been branded.

“I-I just don’t want students bursting into my office after hours, I…” Larissa trailed off lamely, unable to focus when your hand was still on her arm. It was so warm, so soft… she found herself imagining that hand on other parts of her body, trailing along her skin…

“Relax, Larissa, it’s okay,” you said, your face softening. “Either way it’s fine by me.”

Either way? Larissa nodded, swallowing thickly and trying to regain her composure. You’d always been very friendly, borderline flirty even, but something about being alone with Larissa outside of school hours seemed to relax you even further.

Larissa took a deep breath. A bit of teasing she could do - she was no stranger to a healthy bit of flirting to get what she wanted. Granted, her heartbeat was a bit more erratic this time, as she was actually attracted to the person across from her. Regardless - a bit of flirting couldn’t hurt. It didn’t have to be more than that.

“Would you like to take this to my quarters?” Larissa purred, plastering a seductive smile on her face and nodding in the direction of a door at the back of her office.

“I would love that.”

Minutes later, you were settled on the couch in Larissa’s living room and she was pouring two generous glasses of wine. She kicked off her heels and made herself comfortable beside you - you followed suit, taking the liberty to scoot just a bit closer. Larissa noticed, quirking an eyebrow - you laughed in response.

“Sorry, too forward?” You were still smiling as you made to shimmy back a bit - Larissa found herself placing a hand on your thigh, stilling your movements.

“You may stay,” she replied airily, grateful you couldn’t pick up on the way her heart was thundering loudly against her ribcage, seconds away from bursting. You placed your hand atop Larissa’s and she took a sip of her wine to mask the blush that was spreading across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Larissa could see you mirror her movements, bringing your glass up to your mouth and taking a sip, watching her intently over the rim of the glass.

“Didn’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to stare?” Larissa murmured playfully, watching your cheeks go pink.

“No. They didn’t, actually,” you teased, before turning slightly more serious. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… you’re really beautiful. Just want you to know that.”

Larissa felt butterflies erupt in her stomach and she turned to face you fully - you looked so cute, staring into your wine glass, cheeks pink… It had been so long since Larissa had been called beautiful - she was so careful not to put herself into situations where rejection could be the possible outcome. “Thank you.” You looked up and Larissa smiled.

“Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know why you invited me here tonight. I was hoping… Well, I have to confess something, I want to be open with you.”

Larissa could feel her heartbeat in her throat, and she nodded slowly, suddenly becoming aware that her hand was still on your thigh.

“I’m interested in you, Larissa. Now maybe I’m interpreting this all wrong, and if so I’m very sorry - I promise I won’t let it affect our professional relationship. But maybe the feeling is mutual…?”

She could hardly believe her ears. Of course the feeling was mutual. Larissa felt warm and tingly all over, her heart pounding and her head reeling. All she’d ever wanted was suddenly in her grasp  - it was now or never…

Larissa’s eyes flicked down to your lips. Something in her expression must have given her away, for you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers - Larissa was helpless to stop you. It was just as she imagined - better, even. Your lips were soft and warm against hers, gentle - a stark contrast to the boy she’d made out with in college.

You quickly deepened the kiss, licking at Larissa’s lips which she parted almost out of instinct, allowing you to explore her mouth. You tasted of red wine and the lipstick you were wearing - Larissa couldn’t help but let out a soft noise of pleasure as heat pooled in her core. She felt you take her wine glass out of her hand and briefly pull back to set the two glasses on the coffee table - then your lips descended upon hers once more, the kiss quickly gaining intensity.

A wanton groan escaped your throat as you pushed yourself into Larissa - it was a beautiful sound, and Larissa could feel her underwear growing damp. She squeezed her thighs together for some much-needed relief, an action which you immediately noticed. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” you rasped against Larissa’s lips. Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest - this was moving so fast. She wanted to protest but with the way you were looking at her, eyes half-lidded, pupils wide, cheeks flushed - she found she couldn’t summon up the courage to deny you, despite how her stomach began to burn with anxiety.

Instead, she stood and led you to her bedroom, allowing you to guide her backwards onto the mattress. She felt your fingers toy with the zipper of her dress and push it down to pool at her hips - then, suddenly, your lips were everywhere at once. You planted urgent, demanding kisses down her chest, her stomach - your hands caressed the bare skin of her waist. 

These were the touches Larissa had yearned for for so long - your soft fingertips leaving marks on her waist as your warm breath caressed her skin, your lips and tongue and teeth peppering her body with kisses as evidence of your desire. But she wasn’t enjoying them. It was too much, too fast - she was overwhelmed with sensations. The throb between her legs no longer felt pleasant - it felt daunting, dirty even. What would happen when you’d fuck her and notice how skittish she was? What would happen when you’d expect to be pleasured in return and she would, inevitably, fail miserably?

As your lips moved up her body again, Larissa knew she needed to slow this down and confess, before her inexperience became evident and disappointed you. She took a deep breath.

“I don’t have much experience,” Larissa confessed quietly - the words sounded foreign to her ears. She could feel her nerves rising further as she wondered if you would hate her for it, leave immediately and never touch her again - she waited with baited breath to see what you would say.

“A woman like you? I find that hard to believe,” you murmured playfully, your voice low and sultry as you began to trail kisses all along Larissa’s jaw, as your fingers dug into her hips.

You weren’t getting it. Larissa felt, for the umpteenth time in her life, shame well up inside her, warming up her skin and pricking at her eyes. She felt her throat begin to close as panic overtook her body, and she tried to no avail to calm her racing heart with deep breaths as her eyes glazed over with tears.

“Larissa? Larissa?” Everything sounded like she was under water, your voice was so far away. Eventually, she recognized her name and turned to meet your gaze. You were no longer kissing her - you looked down at her in concern, brow furrowed, frowning as your lips sounded out her name.

Larissa took a deep breath to steady herself. She felt foolish for getting so worked up - surely you would think she was some sort of freak. 49 years old and unable to even so much as make out with a woman without having a panic attack.

“Larissa?”

“Yes?” She tried to sound normal, nonchalant, but her voice betrayed her as it gave out, even on that one syllable.

“Where’d you go? What’s going on up there?”

Your fingers caressed her cheek in a soothing gesture and she allowed her eyelids to flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of your touch. She found herself craving it so, so badly, but she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it - not when it would surely be the last shred of affection she’d ever receive from you. She stared at the ceiling, a hollow feeling settling in her chest.

“We don’t have to do this, we don’t have to do anything. You know that right?” You shifted off of her, lying on your side to face her and propping yourself up on your elbow. When Larissa failed to meet your gaze, she felt your fingers grip her chin, urging her to face you. “We could just watch a movie or something?”

I don’t want to watch a movie. I want to fuck you. I want to be fucked. I want my body to let me have this. 

Larissa nodded numbly.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Larissa moved as if on autopilot, pulling her dress back up and sliding off the bed, guiding you wordlessly back into her small living room. She gestured to the couch and you took a seat. 

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, clearing her throat. 

“Just water, thanks.” You offered her a grateful smile, and Larissa winced - she was going to need something stronger than water to get through the evening now, but she didn’t want you to think she was an alcoholic either, so she nodded and padded to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water.

When she returned you were focused on the television, flicking through Netflix. You paused to take one of the glasses out of her hand, careful not to allow your fingers to brush against hers as you did so - Larissa swallowed nervously and averted her eyes, taking a seat next to you - close enough to feel your body heat, but not touching you.

“I feel like Netflix took all the good movies off,” you whined with a slight pout - if Larissa hadn’t been so in her own head, she might have chuckled, finding you quite endearing. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

Larissa felt herself shrug. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying your interactions leading up to now, internally berating herself for letting on that she wasn’t okay. If she’d only been able to play along better… it was something even teenagers did, for fuck’s sake - it shouldn’t be a big deal. If she could just get it over with, then maybe -

“Are you more of a romcom or action kinda gal? Ooh. Maybe you wanna watch a horror movie or something? What about-”

“I’m a virgin.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

You hadn’t heard her. Larissa once again felt the sting of oncoming tears. “I’m a virgin,” she repeated, a bit louder, unable to stop her voice from rising in pitch, eyes trained on the floor in front of her.

The silence that enveloped the two of you was deafening. 

A warm hand was placed on her thigh - she whipped her head around to face you, confusion and insecurity marring her features.

Your own eyes shone with care - Larissa felt her heart pound wildly against her ribcage.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said softly. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you earlier - I shouldn’t have moved so fast.” You looked almost ashamed, which confused Larissa further… What were you apologizing for? Clearly she was the one with the issues. She shook her head lightly, a bit dazed.

“No, I’m sorry…” Larissa hesitated, swallowing against the lump in her throat and fighting back tears. “I’ll walk you to the door, we can forget this ever happened.” As she stood, she felt your fingers gently encircle her wrist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Larissa. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

Larissa scoffed, but she made no move to extricate herself from your grip. Not when your warm fingertips were the only thing that could bring her comfort.

“I’ll leave if you want me to… but I’d rather stay and make sure you’re alright - if that’s okay?”

A part of Larissa was screaming, begging, pleading with her to kick you out so she could do what she always did - drown herself in her own self-pity (and maybe half a bottle of wine) and cry. But when she glanced down at you and saw the worry in your eyes, the adorable little crease between your brows that deepened at whatever you saw in Larissa’s own eyes, she nodded and sat back down.

“Is it… would you rather I not touch you right now?” you asked as you dropped Larissa’s wrist. There was a healthy distance between the two of you on the couch - it couldn’t have been more than a foot or two, but it felt like miles to Larissa, who felt the crushing weight of loneliness descending upon her again as you retracted your fingers.

“You can touch me,” she whispered, ashamed at how desperate she sounded. She felt the couch cushions shift next to her, and soon your warm thigh was pressed against hers - then your hand found her own, intertwining your fingers together. Your skin was so soft, your hand fit so perfectly within Larissa’s that it made her breath hitch in her chest, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of your small, feminine hand clasping her own. She wished her hands weren’t as clammy as they were, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“I hope I didn’t scare you away,” you said timidly. “I really like you and I… I didn’t mean to push you into anything. Fuck, I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I thought…” You trailed off, watching Larissa apprehensively.

“You really like me?” Larissa’s ears had perked up as you’d said it, she figured she must’ve misheard you. You smiled shyly then, and Larissa felt butterflies in her stomach. “Even… even now?”

You let out a low chuckle, giving Larissa’s hand a squeeze. “Even now? Is you being a virgin supposed to change my mind?”

“I’m 49…” Larissa whispered in anguish, her heart constricting in her chest as she realized she was admitting things to you now that she’d never told anyone.

“And? I mean I guess I’m curious why - it can’t be your looks or your personality, because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you’re so easy to talk to… But it doesn’t bother me or anything.”

Larissa sighed, dropping her gaze to your intertwined hands. When she spoke, it was barely audible. “I was never attracted to men, so I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t realize I could be attracted to women until college and by the time I’d come to terms with that… let’s just say I’m certain no one would want to deflower someone in their 40s.”

“I would,” you said with a shrug, so nonchalantly that Larissa whipped her head around to face you. You chuckled at her bewildered expression. “Come on, Larissa. I don’t care about that. I like you as a person and I find you attractive. I want to have sex with you, if you also want to have sex with me. I don’t care how many other people you’ve been with - I really don’t care if the answer to that is zero.”

Larissa took a moment to mull over your words. They sounded almost too good to be true - she never thought she’d find someone who would be so calm, so gentle, so unfazed about the whole thing. And, well, that it just so happened to be the woman she had a crush on… she could feel herself nodding at your words.

“But we don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. Obviously.”

“I want to,” Larissa said firmly, if a little too quickly - it made you smirk, and her cheeks turned scarlet.

“We’ll go at your pace then.” You brought Larissa’s hand up to your lips and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. The soft brush of your lips made a rush of heat pool in Larissa’s abdomen. “Only what you’re comfortable with. And if you want to stop, we stop. I want you to have fun, Larissa. I want this to be good for you.”

“Thank you,” Larissa whispered. The smile she received in return was blinding, and her heart felt just a smidge lighter. 

“Do you want me to leave for tonight?”

Larissa shook her head no. You snuggled into her side and picked up the abandoned remote again, flicking through a few more options before finally settling on Carol - Larissa felt herself slowly begin to relax as the film started.

A few minutes into the movie, Larissa felt your fingers begin to trace absent-minded patterns on her knee. She shivered at the touch - she could feel herself start to get worked up. She wondered if there was any way to salvage the evening - her attraction to you had only grown through your show of empathy, and maybe now that you knew her secret, her body could feel safe enough to let go.

Larissa turned towards you - your head was resting against her shoulder, it would be so easy to just lean in and-

You turned your head and met her gaze. “Now look who’s staring,” you teased. Larissa’s eyes were glued to your lips as you spoke. You were such a good kisser, you tasted so good. She leaned forward, focused on her goal - your lips curled into a smile as you leaned in as well. Larissa’s eyes fluttered shut the moment your lips met and she let out a breathy moan. You didn’t deepen the kiss - you simply pressed your lips to hers, humming and gently cupping her face in your hands.

Larissa felt emboldened by your gentleness - she parted her lips slightly to lick at yours. You opened your mouth for her, allowing her to explore your mouth before gently flicking your tongue against hers. She felt a mad fluttering in her abdomen at the deepening of the kiss, a little whimper escaping her throat at all of the sensations once again flooding her body.

Pulling back once she’d run out of air, Larissa rested her forehead against yours. Your hot, heavy breaths mingled with her own, her skin tingled with electricity.

“I want to try this again,” she whispered resolutely.

“Really?” You pulled back, your eyes flicking between hers. Your expression was a mixture of concern and excitement, and Larissa nodded.

You stood, extending a hand for Larissa to take and helping her up.

This time you climbed onto the bed first, settling against the pillows and waiting for Larissa. She followed suit, lying down next to you and pressing a hesitant kiss to your lips. She could feel the affection and tenderness with which you kissed her back and quickly relaxed, allowing her hands to rest on your waist and tugging you closer. You wound your arms around her and held her tightly - she felt safe in the minutes that you spent making out, heat slowly building within her.

Larissa froze as your fingers played with the zipper of her dress, her breath quickening. Noticing the change, you removed your hand and sat back on the balls of your feet.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked - there was no judgment detectable in your voice, only sweetness and worry. “Yes, I am, I’m sorry.” Larissa took a deep breath, trying to relax again.

“What if I got undressed first?”

She considered for a moment - yes, perhaps that would make her feel less vulnerable. She nodded and you began to unbutton your blouse.

“May I?” she asked. You smiled and dropped your hands, shimmying a bit closer. She unbuttoned the blouse the rest of the way, pupils dilating as it fell away from your front to reveal your lace-clad breasts. You slid the blouse from your arms and reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra and tossing it aside - your breasts jiggled slightly as you did so, and Larissa felt her mouth go dry.

Shimmying your hips, you slid your skirt down your legs and tossed it aside, before doing the same with your underwear. There you sat, completely naked, thighs parted slightly to reveal the wetness that glistened between your legs. Larissa’s own pussy throbbed with desire at the sight - she felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria at the fact that you were so aroused, in spite of everything that had transpired that evening.

“All for you,” you purred seductively, smirking as you noticed Larissa’s eyes glued to your cunt. Larissa snapped her gaze up to meet yours and you leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as your fingers once again found her zipper and began to drag it down. She moved her body accordingly so you could slide the dress down her body - nodding as you cocked your head in question when the dress pooled at her hips. You slipped her out of the dress completely, then crawled up her body and settled next to her, toying with the clasp of her bra. 

“You can take it off,” she whispered, almost amused at how fast you complied. 

The hunger with which your eyes roved over her torso, drinking in the milky expanse of her soft stomach, the swell of her breasts, her pink nipples that slowly hardened at the chill in the air - it felt like a drug to Larissa. She’d never had anyone look at her like that - no one had ever seen her naked in such a context, and she felt her chest flush.

Part of her wanted to cross her arms over her chest, her anxiety rising at the unabashed attention - but then you lowered your mouth to her right nipple and gently soothed your tongue over the bud, and her brain short-circuited.

Arching her back off the bed, Larissa let out a strangled, breathy sound - your tongue on her nipple felt like velvet, divine and soothing, and it sent tingles down her spine. Then she felt you roll her other nipple between your fingers and groaned - it was a filthy sound, and her hand shot up immediately to cover her mouth.

Your tongue stilled and you looked up at her with a smile. “No, I want to hear you. That was a very pretty sound you made.” Larissa blushed, removing her hand from her mouth. Your tongue resumed its ministrations, slowly causing the small, pink bud to harden, and Larissa whimpered at the shocks of pleasure that originated behind her navel and rippled outwards in waves.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” you murmured, moving your mouth from one breast to the other, and Larissa nodded fervently.

“Please, keep going,” she breathed, a tightness coiling in her abdomen as your hand joined your tongue to knead at the soft flesh of her breast.

Once you’d showered each of her breasts in ample attention, your lips began trailing down her stomach - much gentler this time, much slower. Larissa almost felt embarrassed at how her body was reacting, how excited she seemed to be getting, as your lips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Can I take these off?” You toyed with the waistband of Larissa’s underwear - she paused for a moment, before finally nodding again.

Your fingers brushed against her skin as you tugged her underwear down her legs, then settled between them. With you suddenly this close to her pussy, Larissa began to worry whether she should have shaved. She felt her nerves rising again as she waited for you to tell her how disgusting you found her - then she felt your lips begin to press reverent kisses to the little curls, as if you could sense her anxiety and were trying to reassure her that it was okay.

“Is it okay if I use my mouth?” you asked sweetly. Her eyes widened and her face suddenly felt hot - you were being so considerate, asking all these questions, making sure she was okay with everything, and Larissa wished you didn’t have to do that - she wished she could just be okay with whatever you wanted to do to her.

“I’m sorry, this must be terribly tedious,” she mumbled, her voice dripping with insecurity that, in any other context, she simply did not possess - she hated herself for it right now, and she was unable to meet your gaze because of it. A light slap to her thigh shocked her into looking at you, however. You frowned up at her from between her legs. “Hey. Don’t say that. Making love to you isn’t a chore, Larissa. I want this. So bad. And I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I am. Understood?”

“Yes,” she replied, breathless at your display of dominance.

“Good girl.” Larissa let out an involuntary moan - she had never considered that she would enjoy being called a ‘good girl’, but she couldn’t help the way her cunt throbbed at your words. “So. Is it okay if I use my mouth? Or do you want to stop?”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop… you can use your mouth.” 

You beamed up at her, before carefully hooking one of her legs over your shoulder - Larissa could feel herself being spread open at the action.

Soft lips began littering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. Larissa tried her best to stay still, not to squirm - but when your mouth finally met her cunt, your tongue slowly trailing up her slit, she couldn’t help but buck her hips into your face.

A soft groan left her lips when she felt your tongue flick against her clit - she was so sensitive, and the touch was so different than when she pleasured herself - it made every hair on her body stand on end. Your lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking gently and drawing little whimpers from Larissa’s throat as her back arched. She felt herself quickly getting lost in the sensation.

“Does this feel good?” you murmured, pulling back for a moment.

“Y-yes,” Larissa panted - her breathing was already beginning to get heavier.

“If anything doesn’t feel good, if you don’t like it, tell me, okay?”

Larissa hummed and you began licking at her folds, gathering her juices on your tongue and letting out a loud moan of delight. “Fuck, you taste amazing.” Larissa couldn’t help but blush again, but her embarrassment was forgotten the second your tongue circled her clit. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on relaxing.

She found herself unsure what to do with her hands - she briefly brought them to your head, then fisted at the sheets next to her. Then she felt something brush against them and opened her eyes to see your own hands blindly reaching out and grabbing for hers. She intertwined your fingers, her heart leaping in her chest as you gave her hands a squeeze.

The coil in Larissa’s stomach was tightening by the second. She felt herself growing more comfortable with every passing minute, allowing unfiltered moans to pass her lips, spurred on by the noises you were making - the breathy groans, the wet sound of your tongue lapping at her folds. When you gently circled her entrance, she couldn’t help but whine and buck her hips.

“C-can you go inside?” she asked quietly, rolling her hips against your face. You groaned in response, slowly pushing your tongue into her hole. Larissa’s walls fluttered against your tongue and she let out a guttural moan. 

“Good girl,” you purred between thrusts of your tongue. “You’re doing so well for me, love.”

Larissa could feel herself getting closer, her thighs trembling - she tried to keep her legs open but the next thrust of your tongue caused her to snap them shut around your head.

Slowly she began to unravel, her release cresting like a wave as you alternated between teasing her hole and sucking her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost herself completely in the feeling of ecstasy overwhelming her body.

She felt your tongue soothe over her folds, then her thighs, lapping up the evidence of her orgasm. You gave her hands a gentle squeeze, before gently extracting your fingers from her grip and crawling up her body. Larissa’s eyes were still closed when she felt your lips on her own. At your tongue’s insistence she parted her lips, whining at the taste of herself as you licked into her mouth.

When you pulled back and cupped her cheek, Larissa opened her eyes. She was almost shocked at the sheer amount of affection and adoration that swirled in your pupils as you searched her face - it made her heart flutter in her chest.

“How was it?”

Larissa hesitated - what was she supposed to say to that? It was everything I’ve ever wanted and more, because it was with you… She buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed, inhaling the scent of sweat and your sweet perfume on your skin.

“Really good, darling,” is what she settled for as she contentedly nuzzled her nose into your pulse point. She felt your arms wind around her and allowed herself to be held as her breathing slowed. A chaste kiss was pressed to the crown of her head and she smiled against your skin. 

You shifted next to her, wrapping your legs around hers, and Larissa could feel your slick rub against her thigh. Tentatively, Larissa allowed her hand to trail down your bare waist, over the swell of your hip. She could feel you shiver against her as her fingertips brushed against your mound.

Larissa reached between your thighs and pulled back to get a look at your face - you watched her intently, pupils blown, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Slowly, Larissa spread your folds with her fingers, gasping as she felt how wet you were. She gathered some of your juices on her fingertips and massaged them over your swollen clit, enraptured by the soft moan you let out, the way your eyes fluttered shut and your hips twitched seemingly of their own accord.

With your eyes closed, Larissa allowed herself to admire your beauty, the way you gave in to her touches. She touched you the way she normally touched herself, and it seemed to please you - your face was gorgeously flushed, the most obscene noises slipping from between your swollen lips. When you arched your back, Larissa’s eyes fell to your nipples, hardened with arousal. She lowered her mouth to your breast, flattening her tongue and soothing it over the pink bud, drawing a moan from your chest.

“Bite,” you murmured. Larissa paused, glancing up at your face - then felt your hands on the back of her head, pushing her into your chest. She licked your nipple once more, before grazing her teeth against it and gently biting. 

“Fuck, just like that,” you mewled, and Larissa bit down again, the heat within her own body building at the string of obscenities dripping from your lips.

You rolled your hips against her hand as she continued to stroke your clit. She felt your fingers encircle her wrist, guiding her to your dripping hole. “Two fingers,” you instructed breathily.

Larissa complied, first pushing in one, then two fingers, inadvertently biting down on your nipple again as she felt your walls draw her fingers in. She curled her fingers, experimenting with the pace of her thrusts until she heard your breathing stutter.

“Shit, you’re so good at this,” you praised, your thighs beginning to shake and the rolling of your hips becoming more and more erratic. Your face contorted with pleasure as you rode Larissa’s fingers - she felt your cum drip down her hand as you tensed around her, then you sighed and relaxed into the mattress.

Larissa sat up, pulling her fingers out of your cunt - the needy mewl that left your lips caused a shiver to run down her spine. Your eyes met hers, full of affection and desire, and she felt emboldened - she brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean, moaning at the taste. It was intoxicating - she knew she could get addicted to that taste.

“C’mere,” you murmured, holding your arms open for Larissa. She settled into them, slinging an arm around your bare waist and tugging you closer. You pressed a kiss to her lips. “That-” kiss “felt-” kiss “incredible” kiss. 

Larissa felt herself blushing at your compliment - she couldn’t have asked for a better experience for her first time. It might have come some twenty years later than she’d hoped for, but if it meant she could be here with you right now, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns on her back, your breath tickling her cheek - she’d wait those twenty years all over again.

“I’m glad it was you, you know,” she whispered.

“I’m glad, too,” you whispered back, a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

x

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @willowshadenox @mysaviorfalsegod

Click here if you want to be added to my taglist!

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems smut #principal weems #principal weems x reader #larissa x reader

[a-case-of-attachment]

The Lamb & The Serpent

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Paring: Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, male masturbation, mentions of depression, virgin reader, awkwardness, Lucifer being awkward, fluff, misunderstandings, honestly 90% of this is about sex.

Please click -> here <- to read on AO3

Angel Dust was right, the two of you do become sickeningly lovey dovey once your relationship is made official. Well as official as it can be with neither of you wanting the entirety of Hell knowing just yet. You don’t want the attention it would bring, and Lucifer doesn’t want to make you a target for those looking to gain power by either trying to worm their way into your life or hurting you. But hey, the important people knew, and Lucifer wasn’t above rubbing his happiness in their faces. 

He doesn’t waist a single opportunity to tell just about anyone how adorable and beautiful you are, often staring dreamily at you on the other side of the room as he describes everything he likes about you, from how kind and compassionate you are to how your eyes light up when you smile. He knows that people are getting annoyed with him, but he doesn’t care, as enamoured with you as he is. Charlie seems to be the only one that still thinks it’s sweet how obviously smitten he is with you but he can tell that even she’s starting to get a bit bored of hearing him wax poetry about you, comparing you to sunshine and rainbows and all sorts of things that he hasn’t actually seen in centuries now. He couldn’t help himself though and it wasn’t like he didn’t say the same things to you directly, delighting in the blush it always got him. 

Now that you and Lucifer were a thing he hadn’t stop with the gifts and chivalry. He liked opening doors for you or pulling out your chair at the dinner table, even offering you his arm when walking down the street. Not that it happened all that often with the two of you trying to keep a low profile but when it did Lucifer couldn’t help but beam, feeling like the luckiest man in Hell to have you on his arm. The gift giving had slowed down though, Charlie having told Lucifer that “gifts lose there meaning if they are given all the time. They won’t be so special any more if it becomes expected.” She had been right of course so Lucifer had mad a conscious effort to tone it down, now only presenting you with things that he truly thought would mean something to you instead of every little knickknack and trinket he came across that made him think of you. 

You were more subtle in your affections than him. You weren’t one to go around boasting about how lucky you were to have snagged the big boss himself, but you did have a lovely habit of mentioning him a lot in conversations and the best part was you didn’t even seem to know you were doing it. There was a lot of Lucifer said this and Lucifer did that, something that irritated the other residents of the hotel, but Lucifer found absolutely delightful when he found out. He liked the idea that you thought about him as much as he did you and that even when he wasn’t there you couldn’t help but bring him up in conversation. It satisfied a part of him that practically purred at the prospect of people knowing you were his. The same part that wanted to growl and bare its teeth when he would see someone else laying their hands on you. 

In fact, he had almost cut off Husks hand when he had caught the demon with his paws on your shoulders and leaning in far too close for Lucifers liking. The only thing that had calmed him down had been your gentle touch and soothing words, promising that “we were just talking my king nothing more. Trust me when I say I’m not the sinner he’s interested in.” It helped that the reassurance came with kisses, your lips soft but sure against his as you cupped his check like he was made of porcelain. No one treated him as gently as you did, like he was something precious to be protected and cherished. It made his heart flutter, desperate for your gentle and loving touch even as it ached with the knowledge that he didn’t deserve it. 

Lucifer is deliriously happy, with a bounce in his step and a constant smile on his face. It was perfect, well as perfect as things could be considering they were in Hell, and you were dead but there was just one teeny tiny insignificant little problem. Not even a problem really just a small detail that didn’t mean anything. It was just Lucifer being silly really. He could go without, yes he could, no problem. Well except it was a problem because it was getting in the way of things, both with you and with his duties. Lucifer was managing though, at least he would be if that blasted spider stopped bringing his happy little gloating sessions to an abrupt end by asking “but have ya screwed her yet your majesty?” 

The answer to that crude and somewhat malicious question was no, Lucifer had not yet had the pleasure of taking you to bed and the tacky little spider knew that, as did the rest of hotels guest thanks to that big mouthed harlot. Not that Lucifer was in a rush for your relationship to progress that way. He was enjoying spending time with you and really getting to know you. The two of you were taking things slow, Lucifer conscious of the fact that you had nowhere near the amount of experience he did and you seemingly content to just work up to it. Slowly. But that was perfectly acceptable, and Lucifer was not about to press you for something you clearly weren’t read for. That being said though, it had been months since yours and Lucifers little roof top date and it was getting harder and harder to reign himself in, always wanting to press that little bit harder when you exchange kisses or let his hand wander when he got to touch you. 

Despite how much he wanted to deny it, his desire for you was becoming a serious problem, Lucifer often having to excuse himself because he couldn’t handle how close you had been. How your hands glided through his hair and down his back or how sweet your lips tasted against his. Far too many times he had teleported home, bracing himself against his work bench or door or just the nearest hard surface and taken things into his own hands. It always felt good in the moment, the rush of relief as his mind got lost in the possibilities of you and him. He desperately wanted to know how you tasted, how your naked body felt against his, where all the little spots were on your body that had you gasping and moaning and withering beneath him as he took you to new hights. Lucifer wanted to know if you preferred being above or below him, if your whispered words of adoration sounded just as sweet when he was buried inside of you and if afterwards you would want to be the big or little spoon. It was a lot of want, Lucifer being consumed by it all in the moment until his pleasure peaked and sweet relief washed over him. It never lasted though, shame and guilt consuming him quickly and leaving him regretful of his lack of control. You were so sweet, so innocent and here Lucifer was reducing you down to nothing but a perverted fantasy that didn’t even compare to the reality of you. 

The days afterwards he would always be a little withdrawn, unable to face looking at you without the well of guilt bubbling up and making him feel sick. You were always worried about him and Lucifer hated himself for making you feel that way but you were a kind and understanding soul, assuming he was just having one of his bad days and giving him the space he needed whilst letting him know you would always be there if he needed anything. That just made him feel even worse because here you are being supportive and caring thinking he was going through something when in fact Lucifer was having a breakdown because he wanted to have sex with you when he should be concentrating on the heaven issue and making the hotel work or you know, his job as King of Hell. 

That often leads to Lucifer getting his act together, giving himself a stern talking to and swearing not to do it again. It’s a lie, a promise he knows he will not be able to keep. Sure he might be able to for a week or so, might be content to just shower you in affection and kisses but then something will happen, maybe you’ll press a little closer when he hugs you or your teeth will just catch his lip as you pull away from a kiss and Lucifer will be right back at the start again, hungering for something that he wasn’t sure he would ever get. 

It was frustrating in a way that Lucifer had never had to deal with before, leaving him feeling like he was always on the back foot when it came to you. He was well aware that all his problems would be solved with a conversation with you and he had tried on several occasions but it was difficult to articulate himself when it came to these sorts of things and he couldn’t think of a way to ask you if you wanted to fuck any time soon, well, without just asking if you wanted to fuck any time soon. It just sounds so crass, so insensitive, like that was all Lucifer wanted from you when it really wasn’t. He would be happy just having you by his side, his days filled with kisses and devotions of love. He just, he needs to know if that’s all it’s going to be though so he can deal with his desires appropriately and not possibly ruin your relationship by being a complete scoundrel. 

It all comes to a head when Lucifer practically throws you through his parlour wall. 

It’s one of the days where you’ve snuck away from the hotel to spend the day with him in his home, the two of you content to just exist in the same space together. Lucifer had brought his latest project down from his work room, tinkering away with the thing whilst you snuggle in the armchair, book in hand and enjoying the roaring fire he had gotten going for you in the hearth. It’s peaceful, the two of you exchanging the odd word here and there but not about anything important or anything that would pull you away from your individual tasks. Lucifer hadn’t asked what you were reading, hadn’t even glanced at the cover when you had placed your book down on the coffee table whilst you disappeared to make tea. If he had Lucifer would have noticed the stereotypical photo of a shirtless man with a woman all in white in his arms, the two of them gazing passionately into one another’s eyes as his fingers pulled down the collar of her dress to expose the swell of her breasts. Maybe if he had looked he would have known the kinds of things you were filling your head with. Maybe he might have been able to prepare himself for your sudden attack. 

Lucifer doesn’t notice the looks you keep shooting him over the top of your book or the blush on your cheeks as you glanced down at the pages and then back to him. In fact, Lucifer was so engrossed in trying to get his little ducky to fly that he didn’t even notice you had moved until the sofa dipped next to him. It’s a shock and Lucifer jolts slightly, fumbling with the duck in his hands and almost sending it flying across the room if it hadn’t been for you grabbing hold of it before it could go to far. He laughs nervously, thanking you for the help as he holds out his hand expectantly for his latest creation. Except you don’t give it back, instead placing it down on the coffee table with a little pat on its head before looking back at him. Lucifer is confused, even more so when you turn to face him fully, taking a deep breath before looking him in the eyes and asking “can I kiss you?” 

Lucifer is taken aback by your question, especially when you had never asked before. You look at him hopefully though, bottom lip caught between your teeth and a rosy hue to your cheeks, clearly embarrassed by your own question. It’s ridiculously adorable and Lucifer finds himself unable to deny you this request, not that he would want too anyway. With a fond smile Lucifer took your hand between his, insisting that he would “like nothing more than to feel your lips against mine.” Your eyes practically light up with his words, a wide and excited smile spreading across your face. He had all of a handful of seconds to admire how beautifully happy you look at the prospect of kissing him before your leaning in, eyelids fluttering closed as you tilt your head towards him. 

Kissing you is as addictive as everything else about you, Lucifer always hungry for more as soon as your lips brush his. Your lips are soft against his, slightly parted as if tempting him to plunge his tongue between them and deepen the kiss into something more suggestive. Lucifer resists the temptation though, keeping his own kisses light and tender as he cups your cheek with his free hand. He doesn’t expect the small whine you make, his rhythm faltering slightly because he can’t decide if you sound pained, desperate, frustrated or a mix of all three. He doesn’t get the chance to really think about it though because in the next second your tongue is running across his lips, prodding at the seem and seeking permission to enter. 

A couple of things happen all at once. Firstly, Lucifer gasps, his lips parting enough for your tongue to slip between them and into his mouth. Secondly, in one seamless move you go from sitting next to him to straddling him, your knees pressing against his sides and arms draped across his shoulders. The new position has you above him, Lucifer having to tilt his head back to keep his lips on yours and his hands frantically scrambling to find purchase on your hips. One of your hands slips into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp slightly and Lucifer can’t help but moan, your hungry mouth swallowing the sound. 

Lucifers control snaps right about then, losing himself in the kiss as he presses back just as hard and desperate. His tongue surges up to meet yours, curling around it and sucking gently before it’s pushing you back and forcing its way into your mouth. He feels you shudder in his hold, your grip on his hair tightening as you moan wantonly around his tongue. Lucifers grip tightens on your waist to the point that it must be painful, his nails digging in as he drags you down against him, desperate to have you as close as possible. It’s then that Lucifer realises that he’s hard, his straining member rubbing against your core as he pulls you closer, your breath hitching at the friction. 

It’s just a second, a thought flashing through his mind before he’s even finished grinding up against you. It’s just, it would be so easy to have you here and now, to rip your trousers in half and push your panties aside so he can slide into you and have you bouncing in his lap within seconds, moaning and gasping even as he shoved his tongue so far down your throat it was the only thing you could taste. Lucifers fingers twitch, his thumbs pressing down on your pelvis and nails scratching along the thin fabric that kept your most intimate parts hidden from him. It would be so easy, so so easy to just press a little hard, dig his nails in and rip through the fabric. Just a few quick movements and then sweet relief as he finally sunk into your warm tight virgin cunt. It’s just a thought, there and gone within a second but it’s enough to bring Lucifer to a screeching halt, like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. 

Lucifer panics and what he does next is definitely not one of his proudest moments in life because instead of stopping and apologising like a normal person would he stands up suddenly and practically throws you off him, not noticing your startled cry as you cash down onto the coffee table. He screams something about an “important thing, MEETING! I completely forgot about. Yep meeting, better get going, don’t want to be late,” before teleporting himself out of the room and to his locked bedroom. His movements are frantic as he yanks his trousers open, bracing himself against one of the posts on his bed as he shoved his other hand down into his underwear. It’s quick, full of desperation as he remembers how you had felt above him, against him. All those sweet little sounds fuelling his depraved fantasy of if he hadn’t stopped, if he had let his dark desires take over and ruined you for anyone else right there on his sofa in the middle of his parlour. He muffled his moans and cries of your name against his arm, biting down on the bunched up fabric of his shirt as his pleasure peaks and spills over his fingers, all hot and sticky and so fucking good. Until it’s not. 

As the high of release fades Lucifer is left feeling sick, his stomach churning at what he had just done. He feels disgusted with himself, the feel of his rapidly cooling cum on his hand making his skin crawl. Lucifer teleports to his bathroom, stripping himself down till he’s naked and steps under the burning hot spray of his shower. His skin starts to turn pink instantly, but Lucifer doesn’t care, reaching for his soap and scrubbing at his skin till it feels raw and tender. It doesn’t help, Lucifer still able to feel you on him, the way your body had slotted so perfectly against his, how your hands had curled round his neck and slipped into his hair, even how it had felt to press himself against you most intimate area. Lucifer sobs pathetically, sinking down onto the floor and hugging his legs close to his chest. He thinks he hears you calling his name, your voice muffled through the thick door and the steady pounding of the water. He ignores you, convinced that he had imagined it, his mind playing a cruel trick on him in a moment of weakness. 

What had he done? You must think him disgusting now after he had violated your trust like that. All you had wanted from him was a kiss, that’s it but Lucifer had taken it too far, giving into his own desires and taking from you something you hadn’t been looking to give. Then he had just dumped you off of him, leaving you there whilst he ran away like the scarred pathetic mess he was. Oh heavens above, he had LEFT YOU THERE! Lucifer is quick to scramble out the shower when he realises his mistake, barely even drying himself before franticly pulling on his trousers and shit, buttoning the thing up haphazardly as he ran from the room barefooted, his wet feet slipping on the wood of the stairs in his haste to get back to you. He practically skids into the parlour, tripping over his feet as he calls out your name, an apology already tumbling from his mouth in a desperate rush to fix what he had done but it dies quickly, Lucifers words trailing off as he finds the room empty.  

Lucifer whines pathetically, hand clutching at his chest in an attempt to ease the sharp sting of regret and loss. Of course you would leave, how could he have been so stupid to think you would stick around after his behaviour. Trying not to cry Lucifer drops back down onto the sofa, head in his hands and hair dripping water onto the floor. He’s embarrassed by his behaviour, more than that though he’s ashamed of himself and the way he’s treated you. You deserve better than a sloppy make out session and desperate grinding on his sofa and you definitely deserved better than him just upping and leaving you like some kind of cheap fling. He needs to apologise to you at the very least, should grovel at your feet for forgiveness actually because heaven knows that he didn’t deserve it. 

Sighing Lucifer slumped back into the chair, his head tipped back so he can stare at the ceiling. Maybe it was time he got help? Clearly he needed it if he couldn’t keep himself from turning a simple make out session into him accosting you like some sort of sex obsessed degenerate. Unfortunately there was only one person he knew of who would be suited to help him with his sex problem and as much as Lucifer wanted to get his bad behaviour nipped in the bud before it became a much bigger issue he was in fact not looking forward to the conversation he would need to have to do so.

Asmodeus had been surprised to see him that was for sure, but he had cleared his schedule, ushering Lucifer into his office and making sure his assistant knew not to bother them for any reason, apart for bring them the tea he had ordered of course. It had been awkward at first, full of small talk about Lucifers family and life in their respected rings. It was uncomfortable but Lucifer was still thankful for the easy start to the conversation but the longer it went on the more fidgety he became, his knee bouncing with nerves and fingers tapping on the side of his cup in a sporadic rhythm that even had Lucifer wincing. It didn’t take long after that for Asmodeus to set his own cup down and ask Lucifer “3” Taking a deep breath Lucifer placed his cup back on the table before sinking back into his chair, finally able to still his jittery body as he crossed one leg over the other, his arms resting on the arm rest and trying not to claw at the wood. 

In order for him to get anything useful out of this Lucifer had to tell Asmodeus everything. Well maybe not everything but he needed to know what exactly had happened for Lucifers issue to be considered a problem that he couldn’t deal with on his own. That was the difficult part though because how did Lucifer tell the embodiment of sin that he was so in love with a sinner that he wanted help being less horny about it. Not the easiest subject to broach on a normal day but less so today considering what had happened only a few hours ago on his couch. 

He swallows nervously, wetting his lips and looking anywhere but at the man sat opposite him. He struggles to find the right words, mind coming up blank when he tries to think how best to explain his current situation. He really should have prepared this before he came down here, but he had barely taken the time to get dressed properly let alone formulate a full blown speech on why he needed the demons help. Unfortunately, in these situations Lucifer tended to babble a bit and now was no different, Lucifer simply blurting out that he was “seeing someone, who’s not my wife. EX-WIFE! Because she left me and now we’re not married. HAHAHA! That’s why I’m seeing someone now. Yes I am. A lovely someone, person, WOMAN! She’s funny and kind and Charlie loves her, so that’s a-maz-ing. But um, we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now and well, you see it’s um been a bit difficult. NOT the relationship. That’s perfect. She’s perfect but erm ugh…” Lucifer stumbled over his words, his explanation all over the place and often going off in weird directions before he managed to get somewhat back on track. 

It doesn’t get any better, though Asmodeus listens to his ramblings, clearly taking it in though Lucifer has no clue how he’s making any sense of what’s being said. Lucifer knows he doesn’t explain himself very well, even makes it sound like he has the complete opposite problem to what he actually does and has to scramble to correct himself because Lucifer doesn’t “have an issue with you know, getting it up. Quite the opposite in fact. If she so much as looks at me it’s like hello! But she’s…she’s not…she’s never.” Lucifer fumbled over his words, unable to really express his issue despite being here to do just that. It was stupid really, Lucifer knows that but when he really thinks about why he has such an issue with being with you physically it all boils down to the fact that Lucifer would be your first lover and he was terrified of messing it up and hurting you. 

Lilith had been Lucifers first, but he hadn’t been hers, Adam having staked that claim before Lucifer had even set eyes on his future wife. Her encounters with the first man had been rather disappointing and as a result the two of them had been given the opportunity to learn each other’s preferences together though Lilith had most definitely been the one to lead in the early days of their relationship, teaching Lucifer the best ways to please her. There hadn’t been anyone else apart from that one time with Eve but that had been done with Lilith’s blessing and the mother of humanity hadn’t been exactly virtuous at the time either. The point was that Lucifer had never been anyone’s first and even though he has eons of experience he still feels ill-equipped to be given such a precious gift. 

Lucifer wanted your first time to be special, like world altering seeing fireworks special and he wasn’t sure how to do that when he had spent eons being the one being led, perfecting his skills to please one person in particular. You weren’t Lilith and Lucifer didn’t want to treat you like you were her, but he had no clue how he was supposed to make your first time together as spectacular as he wanted it to be without doing at least some of the things Lilith had enjoyed so much. He’s being ridiculous, Lucifer knows that but it’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, especially someone struggling to keep their seemingly ever grown sex drive under wraps long enough to actually figure out what to do. 

Sighing, Lucifers dragged a hand down his face and sunk down further into the chair. He needed to be honest if he expected Asmodeus to be able to offer any sort of advice or potion that would help with his problem. It’s embarrassing, even hurts his pride a little bit but Lucifer manages to get it out without sounding like a complete lunatic. “She’s never been with anyone before, and I don’t want to rush her into something she isn’t ready for because I’m too horny to control myself around her. I just need something, anything to help take the edge off, just until she’s ready.” Once it’s out there Lucifer feels a little lighter, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It leaves him feeling hopeful, like there might be a light at the end of it all, a light that's quickly extinguished when Asmodeus finally speaks after what feels like hours. 

No. Asmodeus had said no. Not ‘I’m sorry old pal but nothing like that exists’ or ‘sorry my friend but I can’t do what you ask’. He had straight up said no, to him, to Lucifer, to the King of all Hell including this ring and all the ones beyond. This was getting a habit, people telling him no and Lucifer wasn’t too keen on the trend it was setting. Before Lucifer could demand to know what he meant by no, Asmodeus was talking, explaining that “there is nothing I can give you that will be of help to you but what I do prescribe is that you talk to her Lucifer, because from what you have just told me it seems quite obvious you’re not the only one feeling the physical effects of your love for one another.” Lucifer stares at his friend in confusion, brows drawn down and a frown firmly in place. 

Asmodeus thought it was obvious that Lucifers physical need for you wasn’t one sided. That he was “so hung up on the fact that she’s never been with anyone before that you’re completely missing all the signs she’s giving that prove she’s ready for more.” That can’t be right, can it? Lucifer was sure he would know if you had been trying to seduce him. He wasn’t that dense. Was he? It left him more confused than he had been when he had arrived in lust, mind scrambling to replay every moment he had spent with you in case he had missed something. Asmodeus chuckles at Lucifers silence, gently guiding him to the door and urging him to “go home and think about it Luci, you’ll be surprised by what you learn.” 

Lucifer had done just that, not paying attention to the whispers of the imps and lesser demons that he passed. He had a lot on his mind, a lot of things that needed his upmost attention because he needed to know of what Asmodeus had said was true and Lucifer really had been brushing off every attempt you had been making to seduce him. He went all the way back to the first few weeks after the two of you had officially started dating, remembering fondly how every kiss had been chase and every touch had you blushing the most delectable shade of red.  

It must have been about three weeks after your rooftop date when the first incident had happened, Lucifer getting so caught up in you that he failed to notice what he was doing until you let out a started yelp, pulling away from him and almost falling off the edge of table you were sat on. Lucifer didn’t remember picking you up to place on the side table down one of the hotels many corridors, nor does he remember slotting himself between your legs and deepening the kiss beyond anything you had shared before. Apparently, he had done that and more though because as he had followed your wide eyed look of shock Lucifer had become hyper aware of his erection staring against his zipper and how he had pushed himself tight against your core, letting you feel every inch of him. 

Embarrassment had been the first emotion to register, Lucifer jumping away from you and pressing himself against the opposite wall. He had apologised, rambling out some nonsense about work before dashing off to his apple tower and trying to avoid any of the other souls that may be lurking in the shadows. When he was finally safely locked away in his rooms Lucifer had berated himself for such crass behaviour, but it didn’t matter how often he called himself disgusting, pig, pervert or scoundrel it didn’t chase away the feeling of you against him. The way your hands had tightened on his shoulders when he had first slipped his tongue inside your mouth, or how you had wrapped your legs around him when he slid his hands under your ass and urged you up. And it especially couldn’t erase the way he had slotted so perfectly against you, able to feel your warmth even through two layers of fabric. That day was the first time he had gotten himself off to thoughts of you, gasping and moaning into his pillows like the pathetic mess he was, the endless possibilities of what if playing through his mind. He had felt so ashamed afterwards, like he had violated you somehow. It hadn’t sat well with him, and Lucifer had promised himself that he would do better, be better going forward. 

From then on Lucifer had been hyper aware of his desire for you as well as being unable to forget the way you had stared down at his erection in a mixture of surprise and horror. Had it been horror though? Lucifer had been convinced at the time that you had been disgusted and put off by his obvious arousal but now he was really thinking about he wasn’t so sure. You had been surprised, that he was certain of but if he was remembering correctly it had been more like curiosity than horror. How had he gotten it so wrong? Lucifer had been convinced that you hadn’t wanted that from him, at least not yet anyway, put off by his experience and rather insistent desire for more.  He had thought he would be rushing you into something you weren’t ready for, fixating on the fact that you had never been with another so you wouldn’t know what all your little touches and hooded looks did to him. But you did know, had been doing it on purpose all these months if Asmodeus was to be believed and like the complete idiot that he was Lucifer had just brushed them all off as innocent little gestures that were sent to test his resolve. 

All those gentle touches that had lingered a little to long, the slightly suggestive words whispered in his ear, the kisses that were often followed by a nip to his lip, the posses that looked like somewhat innocent versions of Angel Dusts, the boldness of you crawling into his lap and taking control of a kiss that hat left Lucifer breathless. There were so many things Lucifer had missed or glossed over, his own fears about doing right by you making him blind to what you were desperately trying to offer him. He was an idiot, a truly spectacular dimwit who had royally screwed himself over and all because he had been incapable of seeing what was right in front of him.

Asmodeus had been right; Lucifer really hadn’t seen what had been right in front of him this whole time, but he saw it now and he was going to damn well show you that he was ready too. As long as you will still have him that is. 

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #reader insert #fem!reader #female reader #you #lucifer magne x fem!reader #lucifer morningstar x fem!reader #lucifer x female reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer magne x female reader

[scruus]

★̶̲ [ 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ]

✎ sub al haitham + dom amab gn reader notes: praise, a bit of dirty talk, reader is called ‘mama’, masturbation, dildo riding; this could have been better but i guess my nsfw button was a bit tired.

Al haitham was always a good boy. An obedient pup who never ever dares to break your rules. It made him so lovable and so pure. The dedication, discipline and love he had for you made him the world’s best boy.

And he swelled in that praise with pride.

So here he is now, softly stroking his hard cock for you all the while bouncing up and down on his favourite dildo. The blush crawling up to his neck and cheeks since its such an embarrassing act, but he did love putting on a show for you.

He flutters his lashes up and looks at you, lips parted. Your eyes remain fixed on his face, noting every small change in his expression while arousal pools in your stomach. And he knows it.

You take in the view. Unravelling every inch of his body. Every little tremble, every small throb, and every hushed moan from his lovely lips. It was sickeningly sweet.

Your lover on the floor, getting his sweet hole stretched out by a thick dildo (smaller than yours though) and his own hard dick throbbing in his hands while he looks at you with hearts in his eyes. It was such a lewd sight and you were gulping it down.

His other hand moves up and down his body, sliding through his abs and chest, brushing his nipples as he breathes a shaky moan. You grin, he is trying to replicate the way you touch him. The way you kiss and caress his body like he is a fragile glass piece.

“Mama a-am i doing well?”, he whines, his glazed eyes staring at you. He wants to hear your voice.

Just say anything.

Even a hum. He just needs to get your approval so bad.

“Yes…my baby is doing perfect”, you hiss, trying to suppress the heat in your pants as you place your one leg over the other. Your chin resting in your palm.

He whines in response, nodding slowly. I am being good, he smiles to himself. His chest heaves up and down and his throat swallows dryly. His chest feels tingly.

“Does it feel good haitham? Getting fucked while i watch you”, you hum, lips twisting in a curve. His eyes widen before biting his bottom lip and mumbling a tiny yesss~. Jolts of sparkle going up and down his body.

“Louder baby”, you command and his body jerks. Hands shivering around his shaft while more fluids spill out. “Yes oh god!”, a needy groan from him and your eyes twinkle.

You have such strong control over him, it’s astonishing. His body responds to each one of your orders, as if you own him inside out. And it feels so fucking good. This high of being your one and only. Your good baby boy. Your beautiful slut. His mind and body, all owned by you.

“Baby, do you wish that cock was me?”, you whisper softly. It was clear that the erotic sight of your lover pleasing himself in front of you was making you feel something different. It was the way your voice was in a lower and more sultry tone than usual. It was the kind of good that made you wanna ravish him till he would remember nothing but your name.

Haitham tilts his head back as he moans in response to your words. More drops of pearly precum spilling out of his pink head. His hole tightening around the silicone dick and his movements pick up pace.

“Tell me….you want my dick in you baby?”, haitham’s raspy whines increase in pitch as he bobs his head up and down, uttering curses and chains of ‘yesyesyesyesyes’.

The memory of your cock stretching his hole out runs past his brain. The way his insides would flutter when you bounced him up and down on your huge dick and then fill him up to the brim like a filthy cumslut. It felt so fucking good.

“You want mama’s fat cock inside your ass?”

haitham’s purrs your name, nodding and riding the dildo with a fervour, thinking its you but he knows it doesn’t feel that way. The way you just pop inside him like a missing piece, it was so pleasing. It was an instinct now.

But this dildo is sad and pathetic. It doesn’t feel full. It doesn’t feel addictive. It doesn’t feel you!

He just cant help it, you are inches away from him yet he cant ride that fucking thick dick of yours like some good whore because you haven’t allowed him. And so, he just chokes a sob and nods to your questions.

His aching cock was spilling like anything with the way it was a raging red and twitching in his calloused hands. Ridges covering all around as his rough palm slides over them, pacing up and down. “You wanna cum love?”, you asked, mockingly.

“please please please!”, his previously hushed mumbles are now loud and broken. Tears streaming down his face which he failed to hold back, his breathing picking up, so hungry and so needy for a release.

You inch forward, your face leaning down to his, just enough to feel your breathe on his face but deliberately far so that you won’t lay your lips anywhere. His hooded eyes stare at you, waiting and being patient. Brows furrowed and pink lips covered in drool.

“then cum”, you whisper.

His other hand claws at your shirt as he shrieks out a loud, drawn out moan. Eyes squeezing shut and hips rutting faster trying to chase the release from both sides. And he is trembling like a leaf. Spurts of cum staining his beautiful olive body and your shoes.

His ragged breaths and whiny groans make you smile as you press a kiss on his wet lips, which were bruised because of the way he was biting them before. He looks up at you, doe eyed, and then lowers his gaze down to your crotch.

Gulping on noticing the very visible bulge. You laugh, “now its my time to feel good”, as you plopped him off the dildo and placed him on your lap, ignoring the sudden whimper that escaped his mouth upon feeling the emptiness in his hole.

But he doesn’t have to worry. Something much better is going to be buried inside his wet hole now.

#.rizzler #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #sub al haitham #dom reader #al haitham smut #al haitam x reader #dom top reader #.al haitham

[astermath]

nemesis

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you made carmen’s life hell in culinary school, except you had no idea. now he finds out you run a restaurant in Chicago, and he’s confronted with the emotions he projected onto you.

word count: 2.9K

notes: kinda got inspired by the lyric "I'm the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean?" by lana del rey but this was prompted by this ask!!! anyway this starts off in carmy's culinary school era and then goes to somewhere around the start of S1. this will def get a part two!!

♡ LANDING PAGE ♡

warnings: cursing, slight mention of suicidal thoughts, angst

comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! 

You were like the average person's depiction of an angel.

You were so incredibly good at what you did, excelling in every class they got, you were unanimously liked by everyone, always helping out your peers and taste testing, and for all he knew you probably fucking rescued baby polar bears in your spare time too.

You were perfect.

And he couldn't stand it.

Always saying good morning to him, with that sickeningly sweet smile, soft hands easily preparing the dishes he struggled to perfect. And that wasn't even the worst part. Because the teachers loved you too.

"Such an interesting spin on the use of this ingredient."

"I can tell you've really perfected this technique."

"What a unique combination of flavors..."

And they were right. Of course they were right, it's like you were a machine crafted in some kind of lab to outcook him in every way possible.

And it was stupid to be jealous, to almost hate you over it, because he was excelling too. But you were excelling more. His praise seemed worthless compared to yours, and he couldn't even dream of making the kind of connections you seemed to make with the other students.

So he grew to resent you. Even when he went to go work in New York, he couldn't shake the image of you standing in the corner of his kitchen, humming softly while chopping vegetables as you received all the praise he longed for. Some would say his hatred bordered on obsession, he would tell them it’s none of their fucking business.

Over the years, he’d managed to at least slightly shake the image of you in his kitchen, though at his lowest points, he couldn’t help but think of you. Of course Mikey was his primary motivation, but he couldn’t help but feel like possibly surpassing your success spurred him on too. But then again, what success? For all he knew, you quit cooking altogether, he hadn’t heard from you since he left for New York. That was, up until a few days ago.

It had been so busy already, and Carmen was spent trying to keep up with the pace of this business running on its last legs. He groaned into his hands, before going back to chopping tomatoes for his sauce. 

“Hi! Can I just get a braised beef sandwich to go?”

Your voice made him flinch. He almost cut into his finger, that honey dripping sweet familiar voice sending a jolt of anxiety over his entire body. No way, no fucking way you were here, in Chicago, in the Beef of all places. He thought he must have hallucinated it, stressed out of his mind from the intense lunch rush they’d just had. But he had to know, he had to find out if you were there, setting foot in his establishment.

So he turned his head to peer over to the counter, and there you were.

Angel of the academy.

Arch nemesis of his nightmares.

Ordering a sandwich from his run down restaurant.

You barely looked any different, and the sight of your smile made his stomach drop. Or flutter. It did something to his stomach at least.

He was just going to let you leave, pretend like he imagined it so he could continue to live his life and believe you were out there pursuing anything besides cooking. But he couldn’t. He had to know, something deep inside him forced him to put his knife down and walk to the counter as you were heading to the door, and call out your name in questioning.

You turned, and when your eyes met he remembered how uncomfortable your eyes made him. How they’d make his face get hot, stutter, think about every mistake he’s made, like he was having an allergic reaction to your eye contact. 

“Carmen?” Your voice was soft, unsure, as if you were coaxing a wild animal out of its cage.

Richie looked at Carmen, confused as all hell as to why his colleague was having a nervous staring contest with this random customer. “You know this chick or somethin’?” 

He voluntarily ignored Richie’s question, getting from behind the counter and walking up to you. A part of him wanted to bolt, slam the door and tell the others to kick you out. Luckily for him, he’d become the more confrontational type recently. 

“Holy shit, it is you!” A bright smile adorned your face, and he swore you were about to go in for a hug when you moved your arms, only to awkwardly cross them when he pulled away a bit. “What are you uh... Doin’ around here?” A stupid question, you were aware, but anything to make conversation with your long lost classmate.

The question made Carmen tense up. Although it was obvious he worked there, the Beef was not... In its prime condition, to say the least. He was a bit embarrassed to admit he owned it, but he wasn’t about to lie to you and make even more of a fool out of him in the long run.

“Makin’ sandwiches.” He sighed, looking down at his shoes for a moment, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. “So uh, what about you?”

“Ah, I run my own place like 25 minutes away from here.” 

Ugh.

Of course you fucking did. Of course you, star student that you are, owned your own restaurant in Chicago. He bet it was running so well too, and you didn’t have to worry about half the shit he dealt with on a daily basis.

“Ah, wait, here,” You reached into your purse and pulled out a business card, handing it to him. “We’ve been up and running for only a few months, but it’s going pretty well!” You clutched your hands together, excitedly awaiting his response. 

“Cool, cool...” He held the card, carefully reading over every letter. Sunrise diner... Huh. “A breakfast place?”

“You got it!” You chuckled, slightly nervous as you moved back and forth on your heels. You hadn’t seen Carmen in ages, and besides the added tattoos, he truly hadn’t changed that much. He’d matured, surely, but his demeanor remained the same. Curt, bold, something distrusting about it.

“If you want, you could uh... Stop by, maybe?” You fidgeted with the sleeve of your jacket.

Your question made him look up from the card, and a million answers ran through his mind. Did he want to? On one hand, he felt like if he spent any more time with you, he’d start feeling like even more of a failure than he already did. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be bad to scope out the competition, and who knows, maybe the place was shit, and he could sleep at night knowing at least both of your restaurants weren’t doing well. 

“Sure, why not.” He shoved the card into his back pocket, crossing his arms. “I’m kinda swamped right now, but I’ll let you know. Maybe this weekend or something.”

“Sure, yeah, totally! My contact info’s on the card!” Your excitement almost made him distrust you even more. Were you planning something? Was this part of some elaborate scheme to drive his business into the ground? Either way, he’d find out sooner or later.

“See you around!” You waved him goodbye, heading outside as he stood there, no reply as the last thing that was heard was the jingly of the bell above the door. 

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before turning back around, seeing Richie lean against the counter with a shit eating grin. “Ex girlfriend?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“Fuck off cousin.” 

God, he wished you were just an ex girlfriend. 

You were his biggest competition. 

Usually when Carmen was up this early, it was to get some preparations done for the restaurant, or if he just hadn’t slept at all during the night.

But now he stood in front of your restaurant, and fuck, he had to admit, it looked good.

From what he could see from outside, the place had a very cozy feel to it. The theme was a mix of a 50′s diner and a casual breakfast spot, and from what he could tell so far, there was no lack of customers either. But that didn’t say much, maybe they were paid actors, right?

He entered and made eye contact with the barista behind the counter who offered him a warm “welcome” and a smile, before looking to the side and waving at someone in the kitchen. Not long after, you walked out, bright smile plastered over your face. He always wondered how you could be so energetic this early in the morning.

“Hey,” he said, hands in his pockets, “nice place.”

“Aw, thanks Carmy!” Your chest warmed at the compliment. “Saved a seat just for you, just follow me.”

He was seated in a booth just for him, and he had to admit, he liked this setup. He could eat his food in peace at least. The vintage feel of the leather cushioning of the benches was pleasant, and the jazz music playing made for a pleasant atmosphere. He’d almost say he would visit a place like this outside of work hours, if you weren’t the one running it.

He looked over the menu, noticing a wide array of breakfast sandwiches, pastries, milkshakes, and the usual coffee arrangement. Nothing too crazy, though he secretly wished he could have chosen something difficult for you to make.

He ordered an eggs benedict sandwich with smoked salmon, a coffee, and a cherry danish. Should be a pretty good test to the culinary quality of the place, he thought.

A waiter came by to drop off his food soon after, and he hated to admit his mouth watered at the sight of it. Everything looked so fresh, and the plating was very pretty too. But cuisine isn’t about how stuff looks, if it was, the Beef would have never existed, that was for sure.

He dug in with his knife and fork, and started eating. He sat through his entire meal in complete silence, simply going through the motions of enjoying a normal breakfast. The barista watched him with careful eyes, as if he was Gordon Ramsey and they were a shitty bakery on the verge of bankruptcy.

He put down his fork, taking a deep breath. 

It was fucking delicious. 

And every moment he’d spent enjoying it made him angrier and angrier.

So he got up, seemingly in a bit of a hurry, and stormed outside, the door hitting the wall with a loud thud when he exited.

You watched it happen from the doorway to the kitchen, face painted with worry.

“Carmen! Carmen wait!” You started to catch up with him as he walked over to the parking. He didn’t like it, you thought, no, he hated it, he hated it so much he couldn’t even dignify you with a moment of feedback. 

Carmen’s face ran red as he could practically hear the blood rushing around his ears, hands starting to reach for his pack of cigarettes as you approached behind him. 

“Please, just tell me what was wrong, I-I’ll change it, I can make you something new, off the menu, w-whatever you want, I--”

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up!?” He turned around, yelling loud enough to have you frozen in your tracks. His pack of cigarettes was squeezed tightly in his hand, crumpling the cardboard packaging under his grip. 

You felt the paralyzing effect of his loud and furious voice, a cold sweat running over your body now. Before you could even open your mouth to say anything else, he stepped closer, and you didn’t even have the guts to back away.

“Every day in culinary school, you made my life hell! The one thing I have ever fucking excelled at, been noticed at, felt like I should have been alive for, you overtook me in!” His ears rang, and any noise besides his own yelling was muffled. 

“You, with your perfect knife skills, endless patience, and your little angel fucking face, always at the back of my heels, the corner of my damn kitchen, making me feel inferior! And then-- then I finally get away from you, think I’ve got some direction in my life, feel a sliver of confidence in my abilities, and what do you fucking do!?” He points at you, finger just an inch away from poking into your sternum. 

“You enter my city, my restaurant, and just come and remind me about how much better you’re doing! Because you love to make me feel like I’m worthless, liked I’m always 5 steps behind, don’t you?” He furrows his brows. “Tell me! Tell me that’s why you’re here, because you want to shit on my work, and make me feel worthless!”

You can feel his hot breath on your face, and your knees start to feel weak. You open your mouth, and the tears that had long been building in your eyes start to roll down your cheeks. The first noise that comes out of your mouth is barely half a word, strangled between the knot in your vocal cords that had formed out of fear. You swallow, and finally manage to speak up.

“Carmen, I-I’m... I’m so sorry...” You sob.

The person you’d looked up to since day one of culinary school thought of you as a bully. And you had no clue.

You knew Carmen didn’t like you, but you never knew he hated you this much. You’d noticed the tension in his jaw as you received good critiques, the strengthening grip on his tools when you got close to his station, the lack of eye content he provided when you did briefly talk. Just as much as you noticed his amazing instinct for flavor profiles, his ability to improvise, his insatiable urge to keep going. 

It inspired you. So you kept going too. Even though deep down, you’d wish he acknowledged your work.

And now he did, he finally did, but not in the way you’d always hoped for. The man you’d always admired, who was awarded Chef of the Year the same year you considered giving up entirely, was currently inches away from your face, watching you cry.

His expression softened just a bit, and the surrounding sound of cars passing by and distant jazz music finally came back to him. You were sorry. So sorry. You looked like it too, hands clutching the fabric of your apron, shaking slightly, cheeks stained with tears. Shit. Shit, he’d really messed up.

“I-I didn’t... I didn’t know, I swear, I never meant to, I was just--” Your voice broke between sentences, “I was trying to keep going, keep holding on, and you were so... You inspired me, y-you’re...” You swallowed, looking to the side, afraid to face his scowl. “You’re the reason I settled in Chicago. I wanted to-- to work with you, or for you.”

You remembered trying to reach him, but he’d changed numbers, and with his severe lack of social media, trying to find him was damn near impossible. By the time you were ready to start cooking again, the year you heard he won Chef of the Year, you found out he was based in Chicago. You searched online, but to no avail. You figured your best shot was to try and start something in the city, and pray to whatever god would answer that maybe you’d cross paths again.

He stood still, head still reeling and processing what you were saying. This was new information for him, and that changed... A lot. You, the person he’d spent like half of his career trying to catch up to, admired him. He’d almost think you were lying if it wasn’t for the tears streaming down your face, he started to realize just how badly he’d acted out just now.

“I--” He started, taking a step back to get out of your personal space. “Fuck, I should-- I should go.” 

You stood there, arms crossed, enveloping yourself and avoiding his eyes like a wounded animal. And the best thing he knew how to do at the moment, was flee the scene. He sucked at his emotions, hell, he could barely even handle his own, how was he going to help you after just cussing you out.

So he backed away, leaving to the nearest metro station to get out, leaving you alone outside. 

Carmen got home that same day, back against the door as he sat on the floor of his apartment. He felt horrible, like there was a gaping hole in his chest, and he imagined you felt about a hundred times worse. He couldn’t believe what he did, all because he projected this horrible false narrative onto you, stemming from his own self hatred. 

He sighed shakily, pulling out his phone and calling his older sister, Natalie.

“Hey, what’s up Carmy?”

“Hey Sugar-- uhm-- so you remember--”

“Are you okay?” She questioned, clearly worried at the shakiness of his voice.

“I’m fine, I promise, please can you just-- just send me the info for the therapy thing. Please.” He sighed. “I’m uh... I’m startin’ to believe I might actually need it.”

A pause remained for a moment, and he almost thought she hung up.

“...Bear?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened?”

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar   @spr3id   @deadandstill   @777iii  

#aster writes the bear #carmenmath #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white fic #the bear #carmen berzatto writing #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear writing #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

[shadowsandshapes]

In Too Deep (Blue) | afab!Reader/Gojo Satoru

Summary: You convince Gojo to go with you to the aquarium, not realizing that the man has a huge crush on you. He knows he shouldn't indulge in the urge to be close to you, but you're just too damn cute to say 'no' to. Contains: Shamelessly Self-Indulgent Fluff, Pining, First Kiss, Everyone Gets Roasted A Little (Affectionate), Hand-Holding (Scandalous) Tag: @dabislittlebeaniebaby wc: [3.5K]

An array of colorful little fish swam by, dancing in front of your eyes before swiftly retreating into the artificial coral reef in the back of the tank. They nestled themselves against the surfaces, flitting through the crevices and cracks in a beautiful display of nature. Your face was practically glowing as you leaned in closer to the tank in front of you to watch them float by. It was cute, Gojo realized, how such a simple thing could bring so much light to your eyes. Even in this dimly lit hallway of the aquarium, you shined like a beacon, drawing his gaze away from the beautiful sea life that surrounded him from all sides.

It was probably a good thing that his sunglasses obscured his eyes or you would have caught him staring at you more than once today. You were very distracting.

How you managed to convince Gojo to join you for a trip to the aquarium, he didn’t know. You were just too damn hard to say ‘no’ to. Everyone knew he was kind of a big deal. You were going, with or without him, but you’d gone out of your way to pester him into tagging along. A big important guy like him had better things to do than to waste an afternoon looking at fish and whatever other sea mammals this place had in their collection. But when you’d looked at him with those big sparkly eyes asking him to take you out, his reluctance crumbled like a house of cards. He could still hear your voice, sweetly begging him to come with you. 

“You’re busy?” you scoffed, eyes narrowing at the man as he lounged on the couch in the break room. “With what? Bullying the higher-ups into submission? Please, Gojo. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

That little pout on your lips broke Gojo. It was too damn cute to resist. “Alright, alright!” He waved a dismissive hand and made a big hoopla about getting up, groaning in mock-annoyance as you clapped your little hands together at your victory. “I’ll take you to see the pretty fishies, okay?”

And that’s how he wound up here: watching you — watching the fish swim by.

Every once in a while, Gojo would catch you bouncing on your heels when a particular fish swam up to the front of the tank to greet you. You would lean forward and whisper hello as if it would somehow be able to hear you through the thick glass. It was a sickeningly sweet sight that made his heart clench. 

Did you even know how much he adored you? 

Gojo had so desperately tried not to get attached to you. Staying away from you was harder than he liked to admit. At first, he just enjoyed your company. You were sweet, funny and strong. It wasn’t until you began biting back to his teasing that Gojo fell hard. That obnoxious way you rolled your eyes at his jokes and the way you would hit him with the finger-guns whenever you entered the room. You were so effortlessly charming and dorky, he couldn’t stand it. This silly infatuation with you had gotten out of hand long ago, Gojo realized that now. Love was dangerous and unkind to sorcerers in particular. But, fuck, did he love it when you smiled at him like that, moving your attention away from the tank for a brief moment to point at something that had caught your eye.

“Gojo, look! It’s Nanami,” you said, a little grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

Gojo pushed himself off the wall and shuffled closer, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets for the single reason that he was fighting the urge to hold your hand. He’d had been thinking about it all day. Your delicate little fingers lacing with his. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have the warmth of your touch against his palm. 

Pathetic behavior on his part, really. 

The only way Gojo was going to make it through this little outing with his dignity intact was if he just kept his hands to himself. None of that touchy stuff. Wouldn’t want you catching on to the little crush he was nursing, would he? Gojo stopped next to you and peered over the edge of his darkened glasses into the tank.

A funny-looking thing with a clueless expression sat upon the reef with its jaw lazily moving up and down. It was a moray eel, poking its head out from a little hole in the rock to stare at the passing visitors. A set of gnarly little teeth gleamed in its maw but its most striking feature by far were the colors of its skin. It was reminiscent of a certain Nanami Kento’s fashionably questionable tie choices. Definitely. Yellow with brown speckles. A genuine, snorting laugh escaped him as one of his hands emerged from his pockets to ruffle your hair affectionately. 

“You’re so mean, babycakes,” Gojo started, tacking on a sarcastic nickname at the end for good measure. It wasn’t flirting if he was being an ass about it, right? The moray eel stared at the glass and Gojo could feel his grin growing wider at the sight. Its emotionless, unmoving gaze was indeed very familiar to both of you. You were right, it did remind him of Nanami in that way. “He’s not that ugly.”

“The eel, or Nanami?” you asked, shoving your shoulder into Gojo’s side. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. Nanami could get it, don’t even try to deny it.”

A sharp stab of envy went through Gojo’s heart but his smirk never wavered. “Oh? Then why am I here and not him, huh?” The hand in your hair dropped down as he wrapped the arm around your neck and pulled you closer so he could whisper the following words into your ear. “Too shy to ask the guy out? It’s okay, you can tell me. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Your body jerked as it collided with Gojo’s chest. His beautiful blue eyes stared down at you from beyond the dark lenses of his glasses, his gaze unreadable as you slapped his firm pecs a few times. “Ha-ha, very funny, Gojo. I don’t have a thing for Nanami, okay? He’s just hot.”

Not only did you let him hold you without protest, but you also inadvertently admitted you preferred his company over Nanami’s. And you thought the guy was attractive. Which meant there was a good chance you thought Gojo was hot too. Gojo shouldn’t be relieved by this little piece of information – but he was. 

“Aw, poor baby. You don’t have to deny it,” the man joked, trying to bait a confession from you in the most subtle way he was capable of. “He’s a catch I’m sure.” You saw one of Gojo’s eyebrows quirk up at his own pun as he pointed at the tank. Following the direction of his finger, you noticed the moray eel in the tank in front of you again. The unfortunate creature hastily retreated into its burrow as if it could somehow sense Gojo was making fun of it. He laughed watching it slink back into its lair.

“I don’t!” you fumed, stomping your foot just once on the floor. Gojo’s smirk only grew. You were extra adorable when he managed to get under your skin like this. “Besides, you’re more fun to hang out with anyway…”

There it was. Hearing you say that filled Gojo’s heart with pride and, dare he admit it, caused a little flutter too. Maybe you had asked him out because you liked him after all. And was that a blush on your cheeks? It was too dark to tell for certain you sure did feel warm in his arms.

“I know, babycakes, I know. No one compares to me, after all.”

A small victory — but a win is a win.

The way your pretty eyes looked at him right now was simply breathtaking. That small hint of surprise flickering in your gaze as you adjusted to feeling his arm around your neck, your hand resting against his chest. You’d never been this close to Gojo before. He liked the feeling of it. There was something so beautiful about your face in this light. The blue hues of the aquarium lighting cast rounded shadows on your cheeks, accentuating the highs of your face with a healthy glow. The more he looks, the more he sees and he finds himself wanting to look deeper. Into your very soul. Gojo didn’t even realize you had been holding his gaze for the longest time until you looked away first, eyes shyly traveling back to the fish in the tank. His eyes roamed over your face once more, relishing in the sight of your reddened cheeks before landing back on the fish in front of you.

Gojo had had his fun. He would back off for now. Couldn’t fluster you too much, right?

“Look at that,” Gojo said, pointing at a bunch of sea urchins heaped together against the glass. “A cluster of Megumis.”

You laughed – a sound so lively and bubbly to Gojo’s ears it would put the most beautiful symphony to shame. “You’re right, you’re right!” you said, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to calm your giggles. “They do look like him, holy shit…”

And just like that the tension he had caused was broken.

“What would Yuji be?” 

You didn’t even have to think about that one. “Clownfish. Hands down.” His hair was even two colors and the kid seemed impervious to damage.

Gojo chuckled. “Hey, you’re pretty good at this. Nobara?”

“Venomous sea snake.” Another easy one. You paused for a second before turning to him with a worried little frown. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“My lips are sealed!” he swore, placing a solemn hand on his chest. Somehow, you doubted the validity of that claim. Perhaps your distrust had something to do with the shit-eating grin on the man’s lips. Gojo simply laughed in the face of your raised eyebrows. “I’m serious, I won’t tell her. So, what’s yours?”

“Mine?” you wondered out loud. Gojo watched you place a pensive hand under your chin as you ran through your mental library on all things aquatic life. Picking one for yourself was kind of difficult, there were a lot of different fish in the sea after all. It took you a few seconds but after a moment of thoughtful silence, your eyes lit up and a gasp escaped your lips. You had it! “Come with me!”

You grabbed Gojo’s hand without a second thought, dragging the man past several exhibits toward your favorite tank. Just like that. Like it was nothing to you. Gojo stared down at your hand in his as he trailed after you. Could you feel the fact that he’d disabled his Infinity, he wondered. It was like a precious little secret that he was keeping from you. Even in the most casual settings, the man always used his technique to protect himself. It came naturally to him — a bit too naturally in fact. Almost like a mindless compulsion to keep a barrier between himself and others at all times. That infinite, unfathomable space was the one thing that kept him safe. Both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t help it.

And yet Gojo made an exception for you. Just like how you broke through the metaphysical barriers the sorcerer had constructed, you bypassed his Limitless as well. Albeit with his consent. It was a shamelessly self-indulgent move that he would never dream of telling you about. Your hand was every bit as soft and pleasant to hold as he imagined it would be.

Wait a minute — he wasn’t supposed to be touching you at all. Shit. 

Well, it was too late to back out now. Besides, it felt nice to hold you. Even if it was just a temporary indulgence — for a little while, he could pretend you were his. Navigating the rest of the aquarium, you pulled Gojo towards a tank in the middle of the room. His eyes immediately honed in on the little creatures floating about in the salty water. It was a swarm of cute little jellyfish, elegantly floating in front of the two of you. The tank’s lighting changed colors, shifting across a beautiful range of neons. As the jellyfish continued their leisurely dance, their near-transparent bodies took on the hues of the lights, making for a beautiful display of moving colors.

You could barely contain your excitement and Gojo felt it too: you squeezed the palm of his hand at the sight of them. "They're like me, no brains but really cute."

He barked out a short laugh and shook his head, giving you an amused smile. “Now, now, give yourself some credit. That’s not the only thing you have in common. They might be dumb as bricks, but they’ve got a sting to them too. Like you.”

The fact that Gojo took your joke and ran with it made you crack a wide grin. He just added to the humor of it instead of loading you with false praise and you appreciated that. You cackled in response, muffling the noise with your free hand while the other was still firmly clasped in Gojo’s palm. This entire moment was delightful. Just the two of you in front of the jellyfish tank, having a laugh. "That's so rude," you said, grinning like an idiot. "I love it. C'mon, we've seen my assigned ocean creature. Let's go see yours, yeah?"

“You got one for me too? It better be something awesome. If it’s one of those goofy-looking crabs I’m never speaking to you again.” Gojo was a little skeptical after you low-key roasted all of his students and Nanami – he didn’t expect any different for himself.

“I promise you — you’re gonna love it.”

It took you a while to locate the right place – but once you found it, Gojo knew exactly where you were taking him. This tank was the largest one you’d seen on your trip by far, spanning the entire width and height of the room. Several species of fish lived in harmony within those waters but, most notably, it contained a number of bull sharks. You yanked Gojo along with you, practically running up to the glass to point at the sharp-toothed little brutes.

Of course, you had chosen a dangerous predator as his ocean creature. He wasn’t surprised by your choice in the slightest.

"Sharks are so fun," you said, giving Gojo’s hand another squeeze. "They look mean and scary but they're really big softies who like nose-rubs." As you spoke you watched the sharks swim around, eyes gleaming with something Gojo could only identify as adoration. "They're kinda like you in that sense. Big reputation, but not really all that bad once you get to know them."

That was — not what he had expected you to say. 

People were afraid of sharks. They were hunters and thirsted for blood. There were countless movies going over the inherent fear these creatures inspired in the hearts of normal men. But that’s not why you chose them. You picked a shark because you liked them. The look in your eyes was filled to the brim with delight as you watched them swim by the glass. Not a single shred of fear in sight. That did something to Gojo. His heart warmed at the sight of you. The realization that you were trying so hard to understand and see him for more than just ‘the strongest’ was refreshing.

“They like nose-rubs?” Gojo didn’t quite think that was true – but then again, he didn’t know enough about sharks to dispute your claims.

“Yeah, like boop!” At that last word, you touched the tip of your finger to his nose and bounced it off. It hit Gojo so unexpectedly that he cracked a huge smile, both flabbergasted and in awe at the adorable little gesture. 

You shouldn’t have done that. Gojo was already in love with you but that just sealed the deal. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He was silenced — lost for words as you gave him a bright smile.

This was happiness. 

Gojo felt truly at peace by your side right now — a rarity for him these days. All he could hope was that you felt the same and managed to enjoy this moment of normalcy in the midst of your crazy lives. No curses or curse users to ruin it. Just you, him, and a bunch of fish. 

You quietly leaned your head against Gojo's shoulder as you stood side by side, enjoying the view of the shark tank.

The sorcerer glanced at the sharks in the tank, feeling content as one of them swam up to the glass, almost like it was seeking your company. When you gave his hand another squeeze, Gojo smiled and returned the gesture. His heart pumped wildly in his chest upon experiencing your touch again. You had no idea how much he wanted to kiss you right now. It would be the perfect time for it too — but Gojo was too afraid. There would be no going back if he went through with this selfish urge to show you just how much you meant to him. He was being a coward, hardly worthy of being compared to fearsome sharks who liked nose-rubs. 

You’d be disappointed if you knew how much he was pussyfooting around his own feelings right now.

"Can I kiss you?" Gojo asked quietly, the words just spilling out directly from the heart. It was an almost mindless request that he couldn’t stop himself from voicing in the silence of the moment. The second the words left his lips, Gojo’s heart leaped into his throat as you blinked back at him.

Oh no — Gojo froze — he’d fucked up, hadn’t he?

The question nearly threw you off balance. If you hadn't been holding Gojo’s hand to ground yourself, you might have floated off into space then and there. Suddenly, your fingers felt very warm against his. A little sweaty too. Uncertainty clung to the air between the two of you as you recovered from the shock to your system that his words had left you with. The silence was deafening. Your lips parted slightly as you took in a shallow breath to speak but you stopped yourself, unable to answer. Gojo couldn’t stand it.

But then you nodded. And that was all he needed to give in.

Gojo gently pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. It felt right. Whatever inhibitions he had vanished the moment his eyes found yours. He let out an amused little chuckle at the expression on your face. You looked so beautiful and dumbstruck by his forwardness. That alone made this moment worth it.

Your eyes fluttered shut as Gojo's lips connected. There was something so beautiful about this kiss. Standing in each other's arms in the company of sharks. You felt a rush going directly to your head. It was almost as if you were on the ocean floor itself right now, surrounded by such beauty and the soaring of your heart felt like waves crashing against the shore. Gojo was gentle at first but all that pent-up longing began to spill out rather quickly once he’d taken the breaks off. One of his hands grasped the back of your neck, locking your lips against his as he deepened the kiss. There was a certain uncanny desperation to his movements — like he was worried you might vanish if he didn’t kiss you hard enough. He was drowning in your presence and couldn’t be happier about his inability to breathe. Your lips were every bit as sweet as he’d dreamed they would be. Nothing could compare to your taste. Gojo hummed against your mouth, delighted and relieved now that he’d finally taken the plunge into the deep. Every second he’d spent fighting his feelings had been such a waste. But that was behind him now. 

When he finally parted from your lips, your face felt like it was burning. It was probably a good thing the shark exhibit was so dark or Gojo would absolutely make fun of your flushed expression. 

He broke the silence first. “That was more than a little jelly sting, wasn’t it?”

“Do you need me to pee on it?” you quipped, coaxing a little chortle from the man’s throat.

Gojo shook his head. Way to ruin the moment — but he wouldn’t have it any other way though. “You’re disgusting. Cute and irresistible. But absolutely disgusting.”

“I know, it’s part of my charm.”

“It is.” Gojo placed another quick peck against your lips. It was so quick and sweet that you barely registered it – but caused a little flutter in your stomach.

“What happens now?”

Gojo raised a brow at your question. He knew you meant ‘what now between us’ but he simply couldn’t resist messing with you a little more. “Now,” the man started, placing his hands on your hips and giving them a little squeeze. You felt so soft and warm, it was heavenly. His breath tickled your neck as Gojo leaned in to whisper seductively into your ear. “Now…I’m gonna break into the turtle enclosure.”

“Gojo—don’t.”

If you liked this, please leave a little reply or reblog | MASTERLIST

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru

[sentientgolfball]

i love soft phantom but how about a scenario of a new ghoul or some other demon species acting predatory towards reader and phantom being all protecting and aggressive!!! 🤭

When I saw this one I knew I had to save it :> consider this Golfball's Halloween special

Tags: nothing too overtly gory, but there's some description of injury, demon Phantom, blood drinking, extremely brief mention of suicide

My requests are open !

Phantom has always been a cheerful ghoul, ever since the day he was summoned. He was always willing to help where it was needed and eager to learn about the strange world of humanity. He was talkative and affectionate, kind and curious. He’s someone you considered a friend with how often he’d swing by to help you where he could. But something has been off lately. 

It started with snide comments and jokes that were a bit too personal. That quickly turned into stealing your things and hiding them where you’d never find them. Bleeding into the shadows just to pop out when you thought you were alone. The worst part was nobody else seemed to notice his change. You tried venting to your friends one night and all you received were confused looks and questions. He only seemed to be treating you like this. You felt crazy. And now here he was sitting on your desk. 

“Come on, is it really that important?” He snatches the paper you were looking over from your hand. His eyes roam over it quickly before a sick grin crosses his face as he tears it up. 

“Phantom what the fuck!” You feel your gut twist at the sight of the contract now in tiny pieces all across the desk. 

His once sickeningly sweet laugh sounds grating to your ears. You look at him only to be met with a horrible Cheshire grin full of fang. 

“What? You said it yourself we couldn’t hang today cause you were busy. Now you’re not busy.” 

You stare incredulously at him, mouth slightly agape “Get out.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Get the fuck out!”

“Aww come on you’ve got nothing to do now.” He purrs 

“No. Now I have more to do! Leave!” 

He shrugs with a chuckle before hopping off your desk and out the door, tail flicking happily as he goes. You dig the heel of your palm into your eyes and let out a frustrated groan. What the hell was up with him? You felt crazy. He’s been like this for weeks. What’s even worse there would be days that he seemed completely normal and you could almost forget how much of a pain in the ass he’s become. He’d flip so often you were beginning to wonder if he needed to go see Omega. You started to loathe seeing him, it was getting exhausting dealing with the whiplash of demeanor. 

A soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. Whoever is there waits only a few seconds before slowly opening the creaky door. 

“Hey” a smooth voice calls out “you missed lunch so I thought I’d bring you something small.” 

Your irritation spikes. You actually couldn’t believe him. The audacity of this ghoul. 

“Phantom do you really fucking think a little sandwich is going make me forgive you?” 

You remove your hands from your eyes and glare at him. 

“What?” He asks with genuine confusion, ears drooping. 

You huff and stand, shoving your chair in with a shrill scrape against the floor. You gather the rest of the papers before Phantom has a chance to shred them. You shoulder past him and out the door. You couldn’t be near him anymore. You went to go find somewhere to finish your work without a little demon bothering you. 

You had spent the rest of your day fixing the mess Phantom caused and catching up on what you had to put on pause. You were now alone in your room trying to alleviate the headache that had plagued you for the last few hours. You were laying in bed staring off when you heard a knock at your door. You didn’t answer. You really didn’t care who was on the other side, you didn’t want to deal with it. 

“Please let me in.” A soft whine came as you stayed quiet. 

“Go away Phantom.” 

It was quiet for a long time. You started to settle believing that he actually listened and left you alone. Until you heard a whisper you would’ve missed if it hadn’t been dead quiet. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You rolled over and looked at the door, weighing your options. You had been sick of the way he was acting towards you, but he was your friend. He had been so kind to you much longer than this new asshole side of his. Maybe he was going through something ghoulish that you couldn’t understand? You sigh. If he was coming here to apologize then he at least realized he did something wrong. You’d be willing to forgive if he could mend the tears in your relationship. 

You push yourself out of bed and open the door. You stand in the doorframe eyeing his downtrodden posture. He was slouching, ears drooped and eyes wide with his tail wrapped around his leg. Little pricks of guilt began to soften the anger steaming in your mind. 

“I’m sorry” He squeaks again “for everything.” 

“Phantom” you sigh and cross your arms “I don’t know what’s up with you, but it’s really hurt.” 

“I know, I know I’m sorry I just need to exp—“

“I really don’t want an excuse just…fuck.”

“Please let me make it up to you.” 

You consider him for a moment. You really hated the way he’s been acting, but you had a fondness for the sweet little ghoul you once knew. You wanted to believe he could make it up to you. You wanted to have the Phantom you knew back. Maybe you would regret it. Maybe you would come to realize he’s a demon no matter how soft his smile is. Maybe you were just stupid and naive for thinking it could change. But if he’s willing to apologize, willing to admit how fucked he’s been maybe he deserves a second chance. 

“Okay.” 

His ears perk up. 

“Not tonight. I’m still pissed about the paperwork, but if you haven’t flipped out again overnight then maybe we can work something out.” 

“Yes it’ll be different I promise, no more bad Phantom. I’ll make sure he’s gone.” 

“Goodnight Phantom. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow.”

He stays and watches you close the door before departing. You sigh heavily, shoulder slumping before crawling back into your bed. You were exhausted. Everything’s been so exhausting lately. Though, on the bright side it seemed like your headache finally went away.  

After Phantom’s apology everything seemed to go back to normal. Well almost normal. He refused to leave you alone now. Granted he was always a little clingy, but this was a whole new level. He was always hanging around the same area as you even if he wasn’t directly interacting. You honestly didn’t care at this point, you were just glad he seemed like his sweet self again. He even kept his promise. He had begun getting you small little gifts of crystals and flowers and helping you with your tasks around the Ministry. It was nice. About a week of this passed and you felt good, great even. You wanted to do something with him, show him you’re no longer mad at him. With Samhain right around the corner you both decided on having a gigantic movie marathon.

You were waiting for him in your room, everything needed for the night already set up. You were just waiting for him to get out of rehearsal. A knock at your door startled you. You furrow your brow opening it to see who was there. 

“Phantom?” 

“Hey hey we were let out early. Come on, let's get this party started.” He shoulders past you into your room. 

You shrug it off and close the door behind you. He flops onto your bed as you start the first movie. You offer up the snacks you gathered but he declines scrunching his nose in disgust. You get a weird feeling. You try to ignore it though as the movie begins. You settle next to him on your bed, eating since he won’t. Another sinking feeling creeps in when he doesn’t move closer. He’s always been physically affectionate, but now he stays leaning against the wall with a rigid posture. You try to focus on the movie. 

Your phone buzzes after about thirty minutes into the movie. You check it. A text from Phantom. 

I’m on my way! Copia just let us out….please tell me you remembered my candy 

What…? 

You stare at it. The sinking feeling in your stomach twists. You feel nauseous. You try to sneak a glance at the Phantom sitting next to you. He’s staring right at you with a sick grin. You jump out of the bed away from him. 

“Something wrong?” He asks nonchalantly. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“That’s a stupid question. I’m Phantom, your favorite ghoul.” That Cheshire grin splits his face. 

“No you’re not. You’re not him. Who are—“ 

“Oh ouch guess my time is up. Or no that’s not right. Your time.” 

The thing wearing Phantom’s face stands from the bed, eyes rolling back joints popping sickeningly. You don’t waste another second. You run out of your room determined to make it to the practice room. Find Phantom. Find Papa and the other ghouls. Find anyone before this thing turned you into prey. As you ran you heard its wicked laugh bounce through the halls, the scraping of claws against polished floor. You didn’t dare spare a glance behind you. You needed to get away from it. You turn sharply at the next corner hoping to either lose it or find somewhere to hide until it was safe to run. 

You dipped into an alcove throwing a hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing, praying to whoever was listening that you'd be safe. Your eyes widen as the creature stalks forward. It still wears the appearance of Phantom but there’s something so unsettlingly wrong about it. He looks thin, too thin. Bones clearly visible through skin that was drawn too tight. Its hair was long, greasy like an oil spill. Everytime it moved you could hear its tendons snap and pop. You could see black ichor under its skin where its veins popped on its neck. 

“Where are you?” Its cracked, layered voice sang out as it stalked down the hall. 

Lucky, it passes right by your hiding spot. You wait just a bit longer for safe measure before ducking out. It’s gone. You move at a brisk pace towards where you knew a pack of ghouls was hanging. You end up slowing down after a while. It still hasn’t caught up to you. Maybe it lost you? Or maybe one of the sentry ghouls caught it? Either way, you felt safe enough to slow. It hadn’t appeared and you were almost to the practice rooms. You were so close. 

You were so close. 

You stop dead in your tracks when you feel a thick substance drip onto your face. You swipe it, seeing a black ichor coating your fingers. 

“Hello” that voice laughs. 

You try to run but it’s faster. It grabs you, claws digging deep into your skin. You feel the blood flow before you see it, but when you do see it you’re suddenly snapped into the reality of the situation. You panic. You freeze. You don’t know what to do. All you can think about is the gory demise that surely awaits you. It drags you forwards and you stumble. When you fall to the floor the thing pounces. You stare in horror at its gaping maw, filled with hundreds of needle-thin teeth. Spit dripped from his mouth coating your face as it leaned in. You flinch when it springs forward and it latches onto your arm biting down hard and sucking the blood from the wound. It burns. It feels like fire is coursing through your veins as its saliva infects you. The imposter Phantom rips its teeth from your arm and grins, licking the excess blood from its mouth with a sick tongue. 

“You know…I was not going to hunt you” it’s cracked voice says “you were feeding me so well. I would have taken from you until you ended your own life, but that vermin that horrid guard dog pushed me away. Starved me.” 

It brings its mouth close to your throat, jaw cracking and popping as flesh rips so it can open its mouth wider than should be possible. You make one last attempt to push it away, but the burning all but consumed your mind. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely feel. All you could do is watch in paralyzed horror as the beast that wore Phantom’s face prepared to end your life. 

You hear a sharp trill and you close your eyes waiting for the final blow. But it never came. The force of the beast is suddenly knocked off you. You blink your eyes open and you see Phantom. The real Phantom crouched between your broken body and the creature. He growls low in his throat at the thing, tail lashing dangerously. The Phantom you see before you is not one you’ve seen before. It’s definitely him, but something is different. He looks bigger, taller. His horns are long, more sharp. His quintessence pops and cracks haphazardly over his body. His claws look sharper. His eyes are gone, completely black and hollow, swallowed by the void within his very core. His physical form is barely contained as wisps of smoke and stardust curl around him. 

The creature screeches and jumps up, form twisting as it does so. Its joints pop as it grows, thin limbs becoming thinner. It’s leathery skin is stretched so thin you can practically see every ichor filled vein. It still wears Phantom’s face but it looks half melted as it struggles to maintain the appearance. It’s sharp, every ridge and bone visible. It lunges at Phantom. 

He growls and disappears in a puff of smoke before reappearing behind the beast. He rakes his claws down its back, black ichor spilling onto the pristine floors. He warps away again when it turns, landing another blow to its side. He does this again and again, but the beast catches on. The minute he puffs away it spins and catches him when he reappears. It throws Phantom against the wall with horrible force. He lets out a pained wheeze, rolling over trying to gather himself before it’s too late. He’s not fast enough though. The creature sinks its teeth deep into his shoulder and Phantom wails. Its teeth dig in. 

Phantom screams and digs his claws into its head. He sets his jaw and unleashes so much raw quintessence from his body that the hallway is filled with a purple glow. The beast falls limp, sparks jumping from its body. Phantom doesn’t hesitate. He sinks his fangs deep into its throat and pulls and pulls until it’s ripped from its neck. He spits it onto the floor and bends back down, drinking the ichor like blood that pours from the wound of the dead creature. He pulls back when he’s satisfied, swiping his forked tongue over his mouth collecting the remnants. He growls at the body of the beast. 

You scream at the scene, or at least you try to. It comes out more as a whimper as the venom works its way through your system. The moment you do, though, Phantom’s head snaps to your body laying on the floor. Immediately everything about him changes. The quintessence stops rippling over his body, he goes back to his normal size, his form becomes solid again, his eyes return to their normal purple. You see his mouth move but you can’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. You see him run to you before your eyes fall shut. 

When you finally blink open your eyes, you're met with the sterile white of an infirmary room. Everything hurts. You felt slick with sweat and cold. Your head was absolutely pounding as you looked around trying to get your bearings. That’s when you notice a little ball of purple curled up at the foot of your bed. 

“He’s been there all night you know.” 

You whip your head around at the voice before you can stop yourself. You groan feeling like someone took a hammer to the side of your skull. 

“Don’t move so quickly. Your body is still recovering from the venom. You’re lucky I was able to make an antidote.” 

“Thanks Omega.” You wince both from the pain and how that came out a lot more sarcastic than genuine. 

He chuffs “Don’t mention it Sibling, however next time a trickster spirit is within these halls please alert me before another scene is caused.” 

And with that, he walks out. You lay back in the bed and close your eyes against the annoying fluorescent. You replay the night's memories over and over again until you feel a weight shift as Phantom moves from his spot at the foot. A smile ghosts your face as he curls closer to you and mumbles a sleepy “You’re thinking too loud” before he falls back asleep with a purr in his chest. 

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #phantom ghoul #i hope you like it anon <3 #phantom x reader #the band ghost fic #ghost fic #nameless ghoul #nameless ghoul x reader #golfball writes

[finniestoncrane]

What's a kink of each of the riddlers that you feel like you haven't really talked about?

More Riddler Kinks

Riddler Headcanons hooray, finally getting round to this one after the event!! it's a long one too oops... ok i am got INTO this. some of them i think i've mentioned before but i am so glad to put my silly little thoughts into more detail 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: so many potentially triggering kinks here, cnc, piss, free use, roleplay, rough sex, violence, monster fucking, nude photography

dano

i have written about it a LOT but he definitely has a thing for cnc/rape play

and with him, it comes from a space of feeling like he's not good enough, and follows his life's trajectory of having to take things he wants rather than wait patiently for them to come to him

he wants to be in control of a situation, something he's never had before in any aspect of life

something that allows him to feel like he's in charge, that he's got the power

and at the same time, it's so emotionally fulfilling for him to be trusted by someone to that extent

to know a partner is willing to allow themselves to be so vulnerable around him, to get to be so close and intimate with someone

to feel like he's someone you have actively chosen to trust and let him take part in something like that

and to speak to him like an intelligent adult while you cover rules and boundaries and safe-words

that's so healing for him to experience, and it only amplifies his sweet and adoring behaviour outside of your more intense bedroom sessions

plus, any excuse to offer you the most satisfactorily sickeningly sweet aftercare, that's what he's really after

arkham

i play with this man like he's a fucking doll honestly there's not a kink i wouldn't give him, but allow me to delve into my most recent fixation

because i'm giving him a piss kink and no one can stop me

i don't think it's so much about the piss for him, more about the mess and the sense of control over someone's behaviours and habits

definitely about the embarrassment and humiliation

because the minute you let yourself go, the minute you're vulnerable standing or sitting in front of him

bound by his rules to not interrupt him for bathroom breaks

knowing that any mess you make is your own fault

that's when he gets his kicks

and the ability to chastise and degrade you for making a mess of yourself and having very little self-control is an added benefit

telling you how ashamed you should be, while you can see the smug smile on his face and the growing tent at the front of his stupid cargo pants

i don't think he'd piss in you or on you though. as messy as he is i think even he knows standards of good practice when it comes to germs and such

(he's filthy, yes, but very picky over certain textures and substances, it's the autism)

plus the act of him defiling you would be too much, since this idiot harbours intense feelings of admiration and respect that he's too scared or embarrassed to admit to

gotham

i don't think i've gone into too much detail about his medical fetish, but he definitely has one

i mean, i did write that thing on the autopsy table... but anyway!

definitely veering towards the experimental side of medical roleplay

he'll get all of the correct gear on, nothing inherently sexual about it unless you're into that kind of thing

protective gear though, a smock, rubber gloves, maybe a mask

and you'll be expected to be fully nude, all of you exposed to him so that he can test the limits of each part of you

see how every square inch of your skin reacts to his touch

or to his various 'tools' that he's got, sterilised and prepared to work on you

there's no medical benefits to this, he's not aiming to fix you

but he is definitely good at making you feel much, much better than you did before you were laid down on his table

teased, torturous edging, new experiences and toys

until you're a shuddering mess, ready to be eased up for some aftercare before he cleans up for your next appointment

his desire to study you, to see what makes you tick and what makes you make the sweetest sounds is what motivates him here

and he will take rigorous and extensive notes during and afterwards

and then study them in his down time (or alone time)

telltale

corruption, for sure. like his whole personality revolves around being the best and greatest manipulator and schemer that ever was

so corrupting your innocence, real or roleplayed, gives him everything he wants from a sexual encounter

and in a relationship

it's not like he's 24/7 on with the whole "i am your master" thing

but it leeches into everyday life easily enough when you spend a lot of time in his company

any roleplay scenario where he can play an authoritative character while you are a weaker, more innocent position works for him

professor and student, master and servant, he's not beyond playing god and having you pretend to be a nun either, and there are more taboo pairings he's willing to try

there's often elements of bondage, dominance, spirit breaking, orgasm control

anything where he has the higher ground

and he can teach you and show you new and exciting, or scary, things

having you beg to show him the correct ways, to educate you, to give you a new experience, to touch you in a way no one else has

that's what gets him off for sure

twojar

100% is into breeding, and definitely barebacking

the idea of fucking you completely raw (pending your health checks. he's completely clean and fine, but you on the other hand... he needs the documents)

that's what he's most into, especially if he can incorporate some other kinks into the foreplay or actual sex

and then have the grand finale be painting your insides with his cum, letting you feel the warmth of him

but it has to end with you under him, whichever position you prefer the most he's not fussy

with his cock buried deep inside of you

cumming inside of you and holding himself there, keeping you pinned to him

thrusting a couple more times for good measure so he can be sure he's pumped his seed as deep as it can go

and holding you afterwards, telling you how good you took him

his perfect little breeding stock, his sweet little cumdump

filled up and ready to bear the fruits of his labour

btaa

there is no doubt in my mind that every waking minute that he isn't spending on schemes or building his little gadgets

is spent playing fantasy roleplay games, of any kind, on any platform, alone or in groups

he's a huge nerd! it's one of those things that he'll never outlive, once a big dweeb, always a big dweeb

so a big thing for him is roleplay, and specifically, roleplay where he can involve some monster fucking

he can either play the hero, slaying the beast and then saving the girl, who promptly rewards him with herself to use

or being the hero who sets out to defeat the creature and instead ends up fucking it

or let him be the monster and he'll show you how monstrous he could really be

as long as it involves preparation, dramatic reactions, practice and rehearsing, preferably a script with some room for improv

and, of course, the most extravagant and detailed costumes (accurate to the scenario or time period, obviously)

then he will be a very happy, and satisfied, boy

zero year

i haven't really talked about this but it's a huge one for me personally with him

but i think he's a big fan of free use obviously like he just screams it

loves nothing more than a sort of semi-permanent situation where you spend days completely naked and at his mercy

and add a bit of roleplay into it, maybe you're his live-in housekeeper

cleaning for him, cooking for him, washing him, feeding him

and whenever he feels like it, he can stick his dick in you

but you can't react to him unless he gives you permission

you gotta stand there, kneel there, sit there, lay there while he fucks you without making any sounds

and comitting to whatever task you were in the middle of when he decided to start going at you

i just think it would absolutely send him to the moon to know that when you're walking around naked, bending over in front of him

hanging on his every word and obeying his every command

he could also just decide to press his cock inside of you nonchalantly

unburied

he's literally devoutly into cuckoldery, but he's the bull

imagine watching your partner get railed by some ineffectual dweeb with a penchant for riddles

knowing that he's giving it to them with all he's got, making them scream in pleasure and shout out his name

making eye contact with him at some point

and having him wink at you? stick his tongue out? give you some finger guns?

all with the most smug, self-satisfied grin you've ever seen on a human being

and then to top it off, he's calling out sex-themed riddles?

and laughing at you when you don't get them right?

that's not something you can come back from

that changes someone, on several deep levels

and truthfully, that's the part that he likes the most

the emotional scarring on your ego, and the little stroke his gets

knowing he's so annoying that he's unforgettable, which would be the biggest crime to him

btas

i have these ideas about him that always revolve around something artsy or classy

and while i think he would be into some dorky roleplay (he's definitely pretending to be a minotaur, sorry)

i do, selfishly i suppose, think that he would be into body worshipping

specifically in the form of erotic photography

he'd be keen to take pictures of you, in poses, costumes, scenarios, roleplays

directing you, encouraging you, watching you loosen up and let yourself go

whatever you were comfortable with, that's key here

and he'd cherish seeing your face afterwards when he showed you the final products

knowing he'd captured everything about you that he loves and finds attractive

pictures that he'll keep if you want, or destroy

it doesn't matter to him in the end really

he takes them because he thinks of you as his muse, the act of photographing you, of being allowed the vulnerability

to create with you in mind

that's what he finds most erotic and exciting and ultimately, an expression of his love and adoration for you

young justice

if you managed to get him to find the courage to admit to it, you'd learn his favourite thing is uh...

well... just because it plays into his... awkwardness, and shyness, and inexperience...

just... it makes sense that he has a virginity kink

but interestingly, it goes both ways

while he's so keen to have you show him the moves, and pretend to be inducting him into your little black book

teaching him how to touch you or how to move his hips

he's equally interested in switching the roles up a bit

it's a challenge for him, sure, but he's the riddler! there's no challenge he can't live up to

even if that means weeks of practice and lessons with an acting coach to get past the initial nerves

it would all be worth it to pretend that he was confident, dominant, and knew what he was doing

that and the satisfaction of taking something from you, something important

the honour in knowing he's your first (or at least pretending)

and the lasting impression he might have on you for that

that's the kind of idea that has him rutting into you like a fuckin beast

#i spent so fuckin long on this so please for the love of god #finnie writes #riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler headcanon #ridler scenario #gotham riddler #arkham riddler #young justice riddler #dano riddler #zero year riddler #batman unburied riddler #bu riddler #telltale riddler #twojar riddler #riddler #the riddler #btaa riddler #btas riddler

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (28)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: smut (MDNI), piv, unprotected sex (we don't do that here),

A/N NOT BETA. Honest opinion yall what you think of my smut lol

Gossip was not the first thing you expected to hear the moment you walked into your office space. It felt even worse when you realized they were talking about you. You had no clue if they wanted you to hear you or not but either way it seemed much too loud to be talking about a few desks over from yours. 

“I heard from one of the other nurses that she's sleeping with Bangtan.” Some older nurse whispered, causing you to furrow your eyebrows at how loud they were actually being. 

“What!?” The one she was talking to gasped. “How is doctor Hanseol allowing that!?”

“I don't think he knows it yet.” You realized it was Yoongi’s nurse who was spreading the rumor. “But maybe she's sleeping with him too.”

“Him?” The nurse suddenly scoffed. “Please, he would tear her apart.” You could seem them turn to look at you with a sharp look. “She's human—he would never go for something so lowly.”

You sighed quietly, feeling your chest seize up when they mentioned that you were human. It was clear they were some kind of creature like the boys. You figured they all were if Hanseol didn’t want the secret to get out. 

You were a lucky case, you realized. You weren’t meant to work down with the others. You were meant to be a regular nurse who took down research. It was luck that sent you down to Jungkook. And it was him who threw the tantrum to have you as his nurse. 

“If you will excuse me.” You cleared your throat, moving to leave the desk. They were blocking your path so you had to tell them to move. “I have a job to do. I think it would benefit you both to do the same rather than gossip about a coworker.” You told Eun Ae. 

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Eun Ae sneered, leaning over you to intimidate you. “I can kill you.” 

You kept your eyes on hers, which only stemmed to irritate her. You tried not to flinch when you felt something poke at your head, like the brush of something against your brain. 

“Can you be a dear and tend to Yoongi? I have so many things to do and he gives me a headache.” She told you with a sickeningly sweet smile. 

You realized the nudge you felt was her trying to erase your memories. She didn’t know that you knew everything which was a good thing. You opted to listen, thinking it would be best to not allow her the knowledge that she wasn’t able to hypnotize you. 

“Of course.” You told her with a blank stare. 

“Thank you, Darling. Aren't you just the sweetest?” She pinched your cheek, trying your hardest not to make a sound. 

When she turned around to get back to her gossiping, you rolled your eyes, looking down at the floor to avoid further confrontation. While on the elevator trip down, you leaned your head back against the wall, clenching your jaw. 

You were stupid to think that someone in your job wouldn’t notice what you were doing with the boys. Heck, you literally had sex with Jimin in the pool. Anyone could have walked in and seen you two. And if they did it was clear they had left to spread the rumor. 

However, you began to think if it was just something the other nurses began to spread just to get on your nerves. You hadn’t been called to see Hanseol over it. Gossip was going to run around through the office even if you tried to avoid it. Especially when the boss seemed to always want to talk to you. 

You looked down at Yoongi’s files, shaking your head at his terrible nurse. You could understand why he acted the way he did with her. She was insufferable and clearly hated the way Yoongi acted. There was nothing wrong with him–he was just someone who was terribly honest. He cared about people in his own way. If he allowed you into his circle that meant you were one of a kind. 

When you knocked on his door, he called for you to come in. Like always the only light was the small night light attached to the wall. You could see him pulling back his covers, making himself comfortable against his pillows. 

“Yoongi?” You called out, trying to adjust to the minimal lighting compared to the LEDs from the hall. 

“Come here, Princess.” His arm stretched out, gesturing for you to lay down in his arms. 

“What are you doing?” You chuckled, setting down your things before making your way under the covers to get comfy with him. 

���You project your thoughts too much.” He told you, eyes closed as he tried to find a nice nap. 

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking back to how Taehyung had been able to read your thoughts as well. “How does it work?” You asked. “How can I stop from doing that?”

“We don't get all your thoughts.” He explained. “However if they pertain to any of us you open the channel.”

“If I think of you?” You repeated.

“Yup!” A teasing grin splayed on his face, not that you could see. “So if you're masterbating with one of us in mind, we'll know.”

“Yoongi!” You gasped, poking into his side as a blush bloomed on your face. 

“I'm kidding.” He laughed, turning onto his side as he pulled you closer to his chest. “Well, not really. You just have to learn how to keep your thoughts from leaving your mind.” He added. 

“How do I do that?” You continued to ask.

“Hobi would tell you better. You'll have to ask him.” He tucked your head under his chin, hand rubbing at your back. 

“So then, you've all like—heard me?” You spoke quietly, hiding your face into his chest. 

“Have you masterbated to one us?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly. 

“No!” You gasped, pulling away from him. “I haven't had the need to.” You pursed your lips, turning away. 

“I'm teasing, Princess.” The man gave you a gummy smile, tickling your sides. 

You laughed, squirming away from him. He was quick to hold onto you when you moved too close to the edge of the bed. You squeaked when he easily pulled your entire body back to him with his one arm. 

“Besides, what can you possibly think of when one of us isn't there?”

You quickly pulled back, furrowing your eyebrows at him. Was he telling you that you didn’t have a vivid enough imagination to get off? Sure, they added to the pleasure you would feel when orgasming but you would like to think you were good when it came to making yourself cum. You didn’t always need a man to do that for you. 

Well, not until they turned up. 

“Are you doubting me?” You asked. 

“Compared to what I've experienced?” Yoongi scoffed, looking down at you. “Your thoughts would be tame.”

You suddenly glared at him, a smirk on your face. “Try me.” You told him. 

You turned onto your back when he leaned over you, lips ghosting over yours. “Is that a challenge?” He asked you quietly. “Think you can make me blush? Sad to tell you, Princess, but I’m dead.”

“I don’t need to make you blush.” You told him boldly. “I just need to make you hard.”

Yoongi’s lips pulled into a grin from one ear to the other. He kissed his teeth, his nose dragging along yours. “I want to see you try.”

The smirk on his lips was quickly wiped off the moment you reached up to kiss him. He took in a deep breath as his body began to buzz. He was so used to the cold that the warmth spreading throughout his body felt foreign to him. 

The grip you had on his sweatshirt was tight, fingers slowly drifting down to the skin of his collarbone. As your fingers lightly traced over his jaw, he pulled back to allow the tips of them to graze his bottom lip. 

“Close your eyes.” He whispered against your lips. 

You did as you were told, suddenly overcome with images. Your lips frowned as you looked around a room, noticing how it looked like a bedroom in a palace. The bed was neatly made as you laid in it. Looking down you felt someone laying on top of you. 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you noticed Yoongi, giving your chest small kisses. You didn’t have any kinds of clothing, which allowed him room to place his lips on any part of you. You sighed, arching up into his mouth. 

However, just as you were getting into the feeling of his lips on you, everything quickly disappeared and you were pulled back into the space of his room. You sat up, looking over at his figure laying down on his bed with his hands behind his head. You could barely make out the sly smirk on his face but you knew it was there. 

“You have a sensitive chest?” He asked you. 

You huffed, laying your head back down onto his pillows. You sighed to yourself as you closed your eyes again. The scene had come back to your mind, watching as Yoongi moved his hands down your ribs lightly. You felt your hands grip onto the sheets, but you frowned deeply as you tried to take control of the scene in your mind. 

Letting go of his hold on your thoughts, you quickly moved to grab his head and push him upwards. His eyes went wide as you pulled at his hair from the roots, snapping his head up to look at you. He moved off you as you sat up quickly slotting your lips against his. 

Something bumped into your arm breaking your train of thoughts, almost screaming at the body that was covering you in the dark. Yoongi slammed his hand near your head, chest pressed down onto yours. He smirked, laughing quietly. 

“You think you want to be in charge?” He asked you. 

You stayed quiet, swallowing some of your spit. Yoongi glared for a moment, eyes casting down to your lips. He quickly sat up, sitting on his calves as he got comfortable. 

“Well?” He asked you. 

When you didn’t move, he began to smirk again. “Take off your clothes. We ain’t going to get anywhere sitting here.”

Your hands slowly moved to your scrubs, taking them off slowly. He didn’t comment on it, instead he chose to take off his shirt. Once you were in your underwear and bra, you shivered at the cold feeling of Yoongi’s room. Yoongi laid back down, one hand behind his head as normally while the other stayed on his stomach.

“Show me.” He told you. “How you would do things.” He added. 

You laid down as well, trying to think of what you personally enjoyed. As your mind began to drift off, your hand traveled down towards your heat. Yoongi was quick to open his eyes as he felt your movements, eyes staying on your moving fingers. It wasn’t long before your thoughts were projected into his mind. 

You were on top this time, back arched as you kissed his naked pelvis. He wasn’t a novice to the whole sex ordeal–he had lived a very long life. However it’s the feelings you have for him that seemed to seep into his skin. Not only were you projecting what you wanted to do to him, but you were also projecting your own feelings. 

He had been able to feel something like that with the boys. Always knowing when they would be upset if they wanted comfort or got excited over something that they wanted to share. However he had never experienced something like this before. The pleasure of having your lips on his skin increased tenfold. Every small touch sent sparks into his cold skin. 

He was quick to close his mind off from your projections to keep from getting overwhelmed, eyes drifting to see you in the dark. Your hand was moving under your panties, breathy moans falling from your lips. He wanted to reach out and touch you, feel your smooth skin on his fingertips. But he was too mesmerized by the movement of your own hand. 

His hand moved down to his own length. He groaned quietly, tightening his fingers with each thrust you did with your fingers. He couldn’t hold it for much, wanting to feel your warmth against him. Not wanting to startle you, he allowed you to enter his mind once more. 

He almost choked on the image you were displaying. You were on top of him, grinding back and forth on his cock as it became covered in your juices. Before he got lost in the sight of you naked on top of him, he spoke up. 

“Wake up.” He told you. 

The moment you did, you realized just where it was your hands were. You quickly tried to pull them out, however, Yoongi stopped you from moving your hands. “Keep them there.” He told you softly. “I want to watch.”

He moved to sit between your legs, pulling your underwear completely off. Your fingers stayed still on your core, which made Yoongi get annoyed. “Don’t stop.” He told you, fingers moving between your own to play with you. 

He watched you flinch from his cold touch, whining at how he moved your fingers the way he wanted. He was able to see how your core was clenching and unclenching on nothing. While it was dark to you, he was able to see everything you did with perfect vision. 

And the moment he saw your hips stuttering and your breaths coming out quicker, he quickly pulled your hands away. In one movement, he was leaning over you, legs pressed back and to your chest as he lined himself up with you. 

You were still trying to come down from the orgasm that was ripped away by the time you realized where Yoongi had positioned himself. His lips grazed over yours, moving back just a bit as you tried to chase him. 

“Sorry, but–” He laughed for a moment. “You being on top is going to have to be another time.”

With that he thrusted his hips forward. 

You cried out hands flying to his shoulders to have something to hold. His hips moved quickly but didn’t move far from the back of your legs. His hips made sure to keep them to your pelvis, leaving you in a straining position for a bit. 

But you didn’t dare to complain–not when he was hitting the sensitive spot within you. And he knew he was because he didn’t dare to move the way he was thrusting. And when he felt you clenching around him, his eyes squeezed shut and moved to lean up. His hands were clutching onto the back of your thighs, hip stuttering.

His groans made the bubble in your stomach tighten and release quickly. You groaned, quickly dropping your legs and tightening them around Yoongi’s hips to stop him from moving and overstimulating you. However he was trying to reach his own high as well. 

It was a bit of a struggle for him but he managed to pull your legs from him and release himself on your thighs. He felt the breath in his lungs leave him for a moment, making his head dizzy. But it was something he found to love so much. 

He laughed quietly, watching as you had your eyes closed and you were softly twitching. With soft hands he massaged your thighs and pelvic area. He smiled softly, leaning forward to place his forehead on yours. 

“I don’t think this was the point of our challenge.” He whispered. 

“Did I win?” You asked quietly. 

“I’d like to consider this a draw.”

Series Masterlist

#bts fanfic #bts #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bangtan sonyeondan #bts v #bts jin #bts namjoon #bts jung hoseok #kpop fanfic #bts imagines #bts min yoongi #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts ot7 #bts fantasy au #bts smut #min yoongi #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #suga x reader

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Service Fee

Llewyn Davis X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 3: Exhibitionism

Summary: Jerry offers Llewyn money to watch him and you fuck.

A/N: Llewyn and reader are in a realtionship. So Llewyn kinda realises he's into someone watching him. (martymachlia). Also $500 in 1961 is about $5134.21 today. This was so much more difficult that I thought it would be.

Warnings: martymachlia, exhinitionism , p in v sex, cream pie, hand on throat, cum eating, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, being 'paid' for sex, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 3035

This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea, this was a fucking bad idea.

Llewyn hadn’t been drunk when the idea, business deal, had been proposed. But he had been a little tipsy, pleasantly buzzed. Enough to make him think, ‘fuck it, sure $500 for thirty minutes and an orgasm?’ He’d be an idiot not to, right? 

Jerry, some friend of a friend of a work colleague of Marty’s, had bought him the drinks. Presumably to butter him up to what he was about to ask. 

It seemed that Jerry got off to watching other people go at it. In the flesh. Like a horny theatre performance. 

He had brought up the subject of porn during their conversation in such a subtle way that LLewyn hadn’t really noticed until they were well into the discussion. 

“I mean, everyone enjoys a bit of x-rated content from time to time, wouldn’t you say?” Jerry spoke with a deep voice that was like a snake charmer, easing Llewyn into agreement without a second thought. 

“I like watching, I need it right there in front of me. Like a sports game, always better seeing it live right?” He had laughed. “Used to just watch people get off on their own, but I tell you, there’s something about seeing  a couple really go to town on each other.” 

What really could you say to that? “Sure,” Llewyn answered, two too many shots down. 

“I used to pay hookers you know, for a show? But it’s just not the same. No offence to the professionals, but I need at least one of them to not be... overly performing if you get my drift.” 

Llewyn nodded.

“I still pay, of course, gotta pay people for their time.” 

“Of course.” Llewyn took another shot. 

“$500 a time, for a couple. $400 for two strangers. Couples are just better.” He shrugged. 

Llewyn’s ears perked up.“$500?”

“Hmm.” Jerry smiled, sickeningly sweet and took a slip of his hardly touched beer. “Cash.” 

Now, in the cold light of day, or more accurately, the cold dark of three hours later, with his pleasant buzz gone, Llewyn knew he had been gently coaxed into asking the question.  

He had practically stumbled over his words in his rush to explain to you. “$500, for like thirty minutes. $500!”

You had stared at him uncertainly. “Llewyn-”

“No, no, I checked. It’s in this club, The Deep, private room, it has like a viewing mirror thing so he can see us, we can’t see him. Only us fucking, nothing we don’t normally do.”

You chewed your bottom lip, it wasn’t like the money would be unwelcome. “He knows Marty?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“This isn’t... illegal is it?” 

“No, no, the club it’s like, people go there to do all kinds of stuff, we wouldn’t be getting paid to have sex... just Jerry would give us a gift... after. A thank you.” 

“Does he... want anything particular?” 

“Just for me to cum in you.” Llewyn shrugged, still a little too tipsy to not feel inebriated. “Like we normally do.” He nuzzled into your shoulder and you paused, looking over the slight flush on his skin. 

“How much did you have to drink?” 

.

Jerry had met you outside the club, paying your fees to get in. The bouncers greeted him by name. 

“What the fuck are we doing here?” Llewyn whispered into your ear as you both entered.

You glared at him. “Llewyn, this was your fucking idea.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered as you followed Jerry. Llewyn kept his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

“You’re not getting stage fright, are you?” You teased, trying to downplay your own anxieties. 

He gave you a look. 

The room was surprisingly nice. Clean and well kept. 

Llewyn sat gingerly on the bed.

“Well, I’ll let you two get started.” Jerry smiled, somehow the expression didn’t come off as creepy. “When the green light comes on,” he pointed to a small bulb above the massive wall mirror next to the bed. “Feel free to start.” He moved to the door. 

“Wait, erm,” you paused. “Can you hear as well?” 

Jerry’s smile widened and he nodded. “Of course.” He closed the door behind him. 

Okay, that smile was a little creepy.

You bite your lip nervously as you look at the door.

“We don’t have to do this, you know?” Llewyn made you jump lightly as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his chest into your back. 

You lean against him, “I know,” and sigh. “$500 though...”

He chuckles as he kisses your neck, his beard scraping softly at your skin. “$500.” He echoes. 

You nod and turn to face him, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “$500.” You repeat again. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Never have more romantic words been said.” He teases and you swat at him playfully. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“I don’t know... gotta woo me first.”

“I have to woo you?”

“Hmm.” He smiles broadly, running his hands down to your waist and swaying ever so slightly with you. His half hard cock brushes against your thigh.

“You know what?” 

“What?” 

“I think you might be into this Llewyn Davis.” 

“What?” He chuckles. 

“Being watched,” you tease, your voice low. “I think part of you likes it.” 

“And why is that?” He leans closer kissing along your jaw. 

“Why do you think?” 

“I always get like this around you.” He murmurs.

“Hmm.” You don’t sound very convinced. 

“It’s true,” he continues kissing down your neck only to stop and suck on your pulse point. “You could say ‘get hard’ and I would.” 

Your giggle turns into a moan as he bites lightly at your skin and walks you backwards to the bed. Gently pressing you down when the mattress hits the back of your thighs and moving his hips between your legs. 

He kisses you languidly, almost soothingly sweet in the way he caresses your lips with his. He doesn’t deepen the kiss, shying away ever so slightly every time you try to as he grinds his rapidly hardening length against your centre.

“Llewyn,” you groan in frustration as his lips dance away from you again, grabbing hold of the back of his curls and forcing his mouth against yours. 

He chuckles darkly but licks into your mouth. Finally indulging you.

His hands run down your ribs, stopping at your waist to just inch under your shirt. There’s a hunger in his movements, the force that he grinds against you, how his teeth lightly nip and bite at your bottom lip that’s different. Not unwelcome, just unusual. Slightly out of character for Llewyn’s normal style. 

He kisses down to your jaw, his beard tickling your skin as he sucks a love bite into your neck and starts to hurriedly unbutton your shirt. His breathing quick and urgent.

The way he grinds against you, the outline of his hard cock rubbing against your core, sends sparks of pleasure up your spine. 

He fumbles with the last two buttons on your top as he scrapes his teeth over your jaw and in annoyance he simply pulls the material, ripping the offending things off and sending them flying across the room. 

“Llewyn,” you begin to chastise, but his lips are on yours again as he whines into your mouth. 

“Sorry, sorry, just need you so bad.” He hooks his hands under your knees, spreading you wider as he kisses the tops of your breasts.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice the green light has come on. 

Yeah, okay. He was really into this. 

“Need you so fucking bad, baby.” He mutters under his breath and you’re not sure if he even realises he’s talking anymore. 

You squirm against him as he pinches your left nipple through the fabric of your bra and bites at the other, sucking and licking at it like he’s never seen them before. His salvia sinks into the lace, spreads across the material as he moans and ruts against you. 

There’s a tight heat building in your belly, fire that is being stoked higher and higher with every grind of Llewyn’s hips and drag of his cock. The zip on his fly presses firmly against your clit and you gasp, sinking your fingers into soft curls as you press up against him. 

He growls, momentarily rocking against you harder before he pulls you into sitting up by your arms. 

You open your mouth to speak, but he’s all over you again, kissing your lips and neck and pulling you out of your top and unclasping your bra. 

“Llewyn-”

“You’re wearing too many fucking clothes.” He snarls and bites hard at your neck, groaning when you cry out and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

As he sucks another messy love bite into your skin and his nimble fingers undo your trousers, pulling his mouth away from you for just a second so that he can pull them down. 

You lean back, helping him to undress you as best you can. There’s an unfamiliar spark of excitement in your chest. Seeing him like this, so close to losing his usual calm control makes heat rise to your face and wetness soak into your panties. 

He didn’t think he’d be quite so into this. Llewyn kisses you hard, sliding his tongue into your mouth for a moment before he pulls your underwear down and throws it to the side. In fact, just a few minutes ago he was pretty sure he was going to have a problem performing. But now, god, if he didn’t hear you moan his name in the next minute he was going to burst a blood vessel. 

There was something about it, something about knowing that Jerry could see you but couldn’t touch you. That you were all his, his his. Just brought him close to insanity. 

He grabs you around the back of your neck a little harshly as he kneels between your open legs and pulls you back towards him. He kisses you deeply again, hungrily swallowing down your every breath as if it was his only source of oxygen. 

Without giving you any warning he plunges two fingers into your folds and presses against your walls. 

You gasp, breaking the kiss and Llewyn pumps his hand quickly, using his thumb to circle your clit as you cry out and grasp at his shoulders. Pleasure burning along your veins.

His name falls from your lips in a high-pitched rush of breath and he moans, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and using his other hand to press against your upper back to keep you as close as physically possible. 

“Llewyn, shit,” you moan, your words catching in your throat as he adds a third finger and fucks you hard. Pumping in and out of you, the sound of your slick echoing obscenely as he groans. 

All you can do is cling on for dear life as he plunges deeper, stroking your walls and clit in a perfect unison. 

“Want you to cum so hard you gush all over the sheets baby,” he growls in your ear. “Want you to fucking soak my hand with it.”

You clenched down on him at his words, your eyes screwed shut as you gasped. He was never normally this vocal, never spoke to you like this and, god, if it didn’t make your head spin. 

“Fuck, need to taste you.” He pushes you down flat on your back forcefully and dives between your legs, flicking his tongue over your clit and moaning against you. 

You cry out, grabbing hold of the bedsheets and then whining as he pulls his fingers out, shoving them into his mouth. You look up quick enough to just see his eyes rolling back into his head, how he rocks his hips against the mattress. 

Then his mouth is back on you, his hands pressing against the inner of both your thighs to stretch you impossibly wide as he curls his tongue between your folds. 

You cry out his name in gasped pleasure. The burn of his beard scraps against your clit as he rolls his tongue and chin up through your folds to your bundle of nerves and then back down again, repeating the action twice before he firmly dives in and presses the bridge of his nose against you. 

Heat coils tightly in your lower belly, beating out from your centre as he groans loudly with every lick and thrust of his tongue. His salvia and your slick mixing and coating his skin. 

It’s too much, the onslaught of sensation suddenly overwhelming as he pushes your right to the edge in a rush. 

“Gonna cum,” you manage to sob out, pulling at his curls to warn him, but he just growls against you and fucks you harder with his tongue. 

Lights explode behind your eyes as your orgasm overtakes you, spills out of you in a wave as pleasure sings across every part of you. 

LLewyn flicks his tongue against your clit, pressing hot and wet against it to stretch out your bliss for longer as you sob and writhe under him. 

Your slick soaks into him, creamy and sweet as you cum. 

He laps at you thrice before sitting up hurriedly, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans just enough to pull out his aching cock. He pumps himself twice in a rush, his eyes glazed over and dark as he looks at you naked and blissed out under him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grabs hold of your thigh harshly and pulls you wider. “You made such a mess, fuck.” He pushes forward, notching the tip of his fat needy cock at your entrance and thrusting in without a second thought. 

You gasp in surprise at the sudden intrusion, despite your orgasm and how thoroughly he fucked you with his fingers the stretch of him is still a shock. 

You grab hold of his arms as he bottoms out, snapped out of your post-orgasmic haze. He kisses you roughly, pushing his tongue into your open mouth and demanding your submission as he bends his body over yours. He snaps his hips forward, drinking down your cry as he bottoms out. The burn of him is delicious, hitting so deep, deeper than he ever has before and your back arches up from the bed as you cling onto him. 

You swear between kisses, sob out his name as he starts to thrust harshly into you, pulling pleasure from every nerve with each snap of his hips. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck, that’s it.” He leans up, rutting so hard that he’s sliding you back with every buck. 

“Llewyn, oh my god, please!” You can’t get any other words out, all thoughts dissolving into an incoherent mess as he keeps hitting so deep, as he fucks you into the mattress. 

He bites his lip, his hips moving of their own accord as he chases his high, needing to cum so deeply within you that you’ll be feeling it for weeks. Quickly he sits further up, pressing firmly on your clit with his thumb as he pushes you closer to your second orgasm, demanding you cum and milk his cock for everything he’s going to give you. 

His other hand snakes down to your chin, holding your jaw and neck possessively for a moment before he pushes his thumb against your lips. 

Your eyes widen in surprise at first as his palm presses against your windpipe, not enough to cut off your air, just a dominating hold. But you moan as you open your mouth and flick your tongue against the pad of this thumb. 

Llewyn growls and pushes it in deeper, groaning as you suck on it. Revelling in the way your eyebrows pinch together, how your eyes soften and gaze over as you give into him completely. 

The control makes his head spin and dick swell. He swears under his breath and pinches lightly at your clit as his balls draw up. You squirm and cry out around his thumb, your legs shaking and tensing on either side of his. The thick denim of his jeans rubbing your inner thighs red. 

You cum suddenly, the force of it creeping up on you as it blooms throughout your core, practically forces your back off the bed as you scream silently. 

LLewyn pulls his thumb from your mouth and ruts into you harder, punching the air out of your lungs with the force of his hips as he groans and pumps thick, hot cum inside of you. His orgasm is so strong that he nearly blacks out for a second. 

He catches himself, his hand by your head as he breathes and recovers. It’s only then he notices the tears in your eyes. And a sharp pang of guilt cuts through his chest. 

“Baby-”

You grab hold of him and pull him down against you, kissing him hard and moaning softly as aftershocks of your orgasm flow across your veins. 

“Fuck,” you nuzzle against him, whispering against his ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard.” 

He leans up to look at you, a small smile on his lips. “You okay?” He keeps his voice low and you nod. 

“More than okay.” 

The smile grows. 

“Can’t believe you kept your clothes on,” you grin, “you’re all sweaty.” 

LLewyn snorts and kisses you softly. “I didn’t have time.” 

He helps you get dressed, your legs feeling boneless in the aftermath of your orgasm. He uses your brief weakness to his advantage and pins you back against the bed, cleaning the mess he made between your legs with his tongue until you’re a shaking begging heap. Your third orgasm is weaker than the previous two, but sweet nonetheless. 

Jerry meets you both outside the room, a flush to his face. He gives you an envelope containing the $500, plus a $50 tip for ‘such a good show’, as well as his card, ‘if ever you’d both be interested in a repeat performance.’ 

LLewyn’s face betrays nothing, but he squeezes your hip eagerly at the suggestion. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading! I'm not doing my normal tag list for kinktober as to not overwhelm anyone, please let me know if you'd like to be added/taken off.

@flightlessangelwings @steven-grants-world @lonelyisamyw-0love @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moon

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#llewyn davis #inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #x reader #llewyn davis x you #x you #llewyn davis x female reader #x female reader #llewyn davis x f!reader #x f!reader #llewyn davis x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #fawktober2023 #kinktober2023 #kinktober

[stylesparker]

second chance (at love)

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: season 2 era, character death, a lot of dialogue (sorry), horribly written fight scenes, overused tropes (but I don't care), and of course the usual mixture of fluff and angst

A/N: I finally got around to finishing this request, and I'm so sorry I took absolutely forever with this. I hope you like the way this turned out! I had so much fun writing it. Reblog if you like as always :)

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay."

Those words cycle through his head over and over again, plaguing him as he stares at you; unmoving, lifeless. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the knife impale your stomach, the blood that seeps through the fabric of your shirt, and worst of all, the life draining out of your eyes as you clutch onto him in your last moments.

You've been dead for seven minutes.

"Well isn't this something."

Sam snaps his head to the woman that appears out of thin air. Her hair is dark red, long and silky, and she's dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket. Her smile is sickeningly sweet.

"Poor Winchester, lost the girl, huh?"

"Who the hell are you?" Sam's voice comes out gruff and harsh, his glare menacing even to the demon. Her smirk gets wider when Sam grips you tighter and pulls you closer to his chest.

"Does it matter? I'm here to help." She blinks, letting her eyes turn to their natural state, that dreadful black signifying her as one thing.

Sam scoffs, "Right, 'cause all you have are good intentions."

She shrugs, "I'm here to make a deal. You gonna take it or not?"

Sam knew this wasn't right. He knew he promised you if anything happened, he'd live the life you thought he deserved. But, you didn't know what it was like to have to watch the person you love die, and know that person wasn't coming back. He stares, and stares, until finally he agrees.

"What do I have to do?"

DAY 1

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Sam asks you for the tenth time, watching you pull on your boots with a wince. He stands in front of you from where you're seated on the motel bed.

"Sam, I am fine, you don't need to hover over me like I'm some wounded animal that's gonna collapse out of nowhere!"

"Well you are kind of a wounded animal at the moment-"

"Sam."

He sighs, "I'm just making sure. Can you blame me?"

You release a sigh of your own, standing up from your spot (not without Sam extending his arm to help), and rest your hands on his shoulders. "I know, I'm sorry. But really, I'm fine. It was a close one, but I'm still here aren't I?"

Sam looks at you gravely, eyes gliding over your features like he's taking you in. He opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but closes it quickly. After a moment, he nods, and gives you a soft smile. "Yeah," he swiftly lands a gentle kiss on your forehead and takes your bag before you can grab it yourself, "I'll take our stuff out to the car, meet me out there when you're ready."

You sway on your feet, looking at Sam weirdly as he makes his way out the door. You wonder why he took so long to answer you, but you push the thought away when you realize that you almost died, so of course Sam's gonna have a hard time dealing with it.

You follow him outside with a new pep in your step, determined to make Sam feel better. As soon as he shuts the trunk, you settle into the car together, and you wait for Sam to pull out and drive off. Instead, he pulls out one of Dean's CD's and pops it in, while you look at him curiously, intrigued to find out what he chose.

Once the music starts, you smile and stare at him incredulously. "Really? Since when have you wanted to listen to Metallica?"

He shrugs with a small smile, "I don't know, just in the mood."

You laugh, "Who are you, and what have you done with Sam?"

"Shut up," He rolls his eyes but that small smirk remains on his lips. "Can't you let me be nice?"

"Dean, is that you?"

"Stop it!" He playfully slaps your arm just before he puts the car in reverse and takes off down the road. Listening to your laugh again is music to his ears, and he can't help looking at you as you bob your head to the music, not paying attention to him whatsoever.

He doesn't know how he's going to pull off this deal, but he's going to do everything in his power to bring you back.

Even if you hate him after.

DAY 2

"How do you have no rooms available? There are like no cars outside!" You angrily shout at the teenager who's working the front desk at some shitty motel you and Sam found off the road. The kid shrugs, which angers you even more, so you huff and slam the door on your way out, stomping up to the Impala with a confused looking Sam watching you.

As soon as you swing the door open he asks you, "What's wrong?"

"There's a damn kid in there telling me there are no rooms left! I swear to god, and he barely even looked at me!" You plop down on the seat, rubbing your eyes a tad harsher than Sam thinks you should, and look at him sadly. "I was really hoping we didn't have to sleep in the car tonight."

He rubs your arm in hopes of cheering you up, and says quietly, "Well, at least it's not cold out like the last time we had to sleep in the car?"

You shiver at the thought, "Oh my god, my toes were actually blue the next morning."

He smiles, "Exactly, so let's find a spot and rest for the night, yeah?"

You nod, but you still pout sadly in your seat as he drives. "I should be making you feel better, you haven't had a wink of sleep since like, what was it? Tuesday?"

"I think Monday."

"Sam, it's Thursday! You didn't sleep Tuesday morning?"

"No." He shrugs like it doesn't matter.

"What were you doing while I was sleeping then?"

"Watching over you."

You didn't know what to say after that. You don't know how you'd forgotten, but Sam clearly hadn't. Now you feel bad.

"Oh." You gulp. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize. I just, I don't know, wanted to make sure you would be okay."

His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can't help but lean over and grab his hand. His eyes dart to the sudden touch on his hand, and he glances over to you. You're looking at him so fondly, and he wishes he could just tell you. Get it over with.

But he can't.

So he lets you hold his hand in silence.

He drives for another 15 minutes until he finds a trailer park with almost no trailers, so he figures this will be a good enough spot for the night. He doubts anyone will show up here at least until the morning, so he takes the risk. He's so tired he doesn't even really care.

Sam opens the door on the driver's side to get out, walking to the trunk to grab the few blankets that you guys have, and comes back with one.

"What, no blanket for me?" You joke.

He throws it to you with a blank stare, almost like he's saying really?

"That is for you, jerk."

"Where's yours?"

"That's the only one we have."

Your mouth drops with surprise, "What? I could've sworn we at least had two?"

"We must have left the other one with Dean." He shrugs. "It's fine, I'm not that cold."

"Sam-"

His eyes pin you down with a hard stare, interrupting what you were about to say, so you give up, but not without a mumbled, "fine, jeez."

While you curl up against the door on your side with half of your blanket under your head, and the other half over your body, you look at Sam out of the corner of your eye with sympathy. He's a lanky guy, maybe not so thin since he's got the muscle, but the dude has long ass legs. The upper half of his body is leaning against the car door like yours, but his legs are uncomfortably folded so he doesn't get into your space. You hear him huff and shuffle around, which makes you wince and feel even worse than you did. You're not even close to comfortable so you can imagine how he feels.

For almost half an hour, you both listen to the other shift around without saying anything, and it gets to the point Sam can't handle it anymore. Until he gets an idea.

"Y/N?" He doesn't have to ask if you're awake because you're both well aware neither of you have slept.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

You peek your eyes open, and his arms are still crossed, but he shifts so his front is facing you.

"Would you wanna... lay together?"

He looks nervous, so you joke with him to hopefully ease him. "What, you too cramped over there?"

He scoffs, "A bit, yeah."

You giggle, sitting up and scooching closer to him, "Okay. Stretch your legs."

He extends his legs out across the seat, and opens his arms to invite you in. Now you're the nervous one as you shift even closer and lay your head on his chest, laying on top of him almost completely flat. You don't want to admit how much more comfortable this is. You fix the blanket so it's over the both of you, and he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you more lightly than you thought he would. Or maybe hoped.

"Better?" You asked.

He nods, his chin lightly grazing your head, "Much."

Your back is to his chest with his arms resting over your stomach, and you're glad he can't really see your face because you can only imagine how bad you're blushing right now. You shift in his hold again, which has him looking down at you and squeezing your hip.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Mmhm." You nod quickly. You really want to turn over, but... that's weird right? That would be too close? This already seems intimate enough, and he can probably tell how awkward you're already being. You hope he doesn't think it's because you like him- no, because you cannot like Sam. Your best friend of nine years is off limits. You've been in the same bed before, you've even cuddled before, but you were kids then. It's different when you're 23 right? You haven't really thought about Sam like that before, but, you guess it's bound to happen because, well, Sam is Sam. You know it shouldn't be weird, not at all, but you're both adults who know about certain adult things that take place when adults are alone and comfortable with each other and-

"Y/N?"

Shit. "Yeah?" You try not to sound squeaky.

"What's up?"

"Um," you steady yourself, "can I turn over? I just- I feel a little awkward staring at the ceiling."

He laughs a little, "Yeah, of course. Is that what you were thinking about?"

"...Yeah?"

"Why does that sound like a question?" You can almost hear his smile.

"It's not." You assure.

He lifts his arms so you can turn over, and you do with a little bit of struggle, trying not to elbow him too much, but he gets hit with no complaint. Once your cheek is pressed to his chest you breathe a sigh of relief, and try not to think about how he stiffened then relaxed when you wrapped your arms around his abdomen.

"Better?" He asks.

"Much." You copy him from earlier, and his chest shakes with his laughter. You don't speak after that, but you relish the moment with him, despite feeling unnecessarily guilty for it. After a while, you fall asleep, and Sam does too.

He hopes you were thinking about him, and you wish that you weren't. He wishes you would say you love him, but you hope that he never finds out.

DAY 3

The next morning wasn't weird like you thought it would be. It was almost like you had done this a million times before. But, you had a case today, so there was no time to think about Sam. Only your job.

You spent most of the day driving around the town trying to find answers to three consecutive murders. All women, and an obvious lead to werewolves. You never really thought about how well you worked with Sam until now; all day you bounced ideas off of each other, gaining clues and offering suggestions like it was easy. It was, you guess, when your partner is so damn likable. Once you found the location, you and Sam were quick to head out the door and track down those werewolves.

They were about 20 minutes out from where you guys had been located, and when you spotted them in the cabin shortly off the road in the woods, you both agreed this would be a stealth mission.

Sam shut off the car and quietly shut the door shortly after you, and you both go to the back to grab your weapons and whatever else you'd need. He points to himself and then the cabin, and you roll your eyes at the man, allowing him to go first and lead you there. His long legs are hard to keep up with but you make do as quietly as you can, and every so often he'll stop and put a hand out to stop you. It tends to hover over your stomach so you have to try harder not to be too loud when you breathe.

A loud bang and shouts erupt from the cabin, interrupting the silence that filled the air, and you both take off in that direction. Sam kicks the door in, allowing you to take notice of the girl tied to a chair in the middle of the room, and two men facing off against each other; one on the floor and the other hovering over him. You and Sam don't even look at each other, as soon as the two of you make eye contact with the two of them, it's on. Sam goes for the one standing, immediately charging at him and toppling the both of them over while you go for the one on the ground. He's up quicker than you would have wished but you still throw your knife in time to where his shirt gets pinned to the floor.

While he's distracted trying to pull it out, you land on top of him and stab your extra through his chest, twisting it until he's too weak to throw you off of him. You don't hear anything behind you, so you let off of him a second too soon, and while you're looking for Sam the werewolf grabs the knife and slices your shoulder with it. You scream in pain, and get torn off of him from the other one. You hit the ground next to him hard on your bad shoulder, and you kick his leg out from under him, sending him to the floor.

Sam appears behind him with a nasty looking cut on his forehead, and his shirt torn to pieces, but he's able to kill him before he gets to you. The other one grabs Sam's leg, knocking him to the floor, allowing him to get the upper hand and attack him. Before he lands the final blow, you grab the shotgun and shoot him in the head, and watch as Sam topples over shoving him off. As much as you want to worry about him, you run to the girl first.

She's sobbing as you cut off the rope that was tying her hands and feet to the chair, and you let her fall into your embrace as she uses you for comfort, rubbing her back and whispering reassurances that you hope is making her feel better. You feel Sam's hand grab your shoulder and you look up at him, finding a troublesome look on his face.

"There's more out front. Get her out of here, I'll distract them."

"What? Sam, you're coming with us!"

"There's at least three of them on their way in here-" He starts.

"And you'll shoot them! Grab the gun and let's go!" You shout angrily, which has him furrowing his brows at you but he grabs the gun anyway and covers you as you carry the girl. You only make it halfway to the car before the other werewolves have found you, and Sam's only able to take out one of them before one is on him. The gun gets knocked out of his hand, and this is when you realize you'd left the other one in the cabin.

"Shit." You mutter.

"No, no, no, no-" the girl starts crying and freaking out again and you shush her, stupidly running in the opposite direction to try and outrun the werewolf. Again, stupidly. You're not as fast as a werewolf, especially with a girl who's about the same size as you in your arms, so he's able to catch up to you no problem.

He throws you both to the ground before he's pinning both of your hands in his tight grip and holding his body weight above you, forcing your hands together to hold them in one hand, and using the other to choke you. You hear the girl crying and you're pretty sure she's running away from the sounds of the leaves and dirt crunching beneath her feet.

You struggle to kick him off of you, he's much bigger than you are, so you hopelessly kick and scream as much as you can, only hoping Sam gets to you in time.

Just as you think he won't make it and you're losing consciousness, his hands leave your neck and suddenly you're gasping for air. You can sort of make out Sam and the werewolf fighting, but your vision is blurry so you can't tell who's on top of the other. Your breathing is harsh and you can hardly see, so when hands grab your shoulders and tug you upwards, you scream and swat at him, not realizing that it's Sam.

"Hey, hey! It's me, it's Sam!" He rubs the dirt off your face with one hand holding the part between your good shoulder and your neck so you don't fall over as you cough yourself into a fit.

"Sam," you rasp, and grab onto his arms tightly as you finally start to catch your breath again. You don't mean for the tears to fall out of your eyes, but you did almost get choked to death and your neck and shoulder hurt like a bitch, so it was bound to happen.

"W-Where's the girl?" Your voice comes out scratchy, but Sam just holds you and looks around while you lean against him.

"I saw her run for it, I don't know where though. It looked like she went towards the road, but it's too dark out for us to go after her like this. Let's just hope someone nice picked her up."

You nod, coughing into his shoulder, and his large hand rubs your back as you start to breathe normally again.

"Are you okay? I thought you-"

"I'm good," he reassures, "let's focus on getting you out of here."

Your shoulder is pretty bad, but his head is smeared with dirt and blood, and the cut on his forehead looks even bigger than when you first saw it.

"But," you cough, "Your head-"

"I'm the one who can stand on their own two feet at the moment, so would you just let me help you up?" You roll your eyes, but you let him carry you to the car anyway.

DAY 4

It's way past midnight, and you're pretty sure you and Sam scared the living daylights out of the front desk girl at the motel you found. The Impala wasn't stacked with any first-aid, so you had to go in looking like you were both mauled and run over by a truck fifty times. You paid, she gave you the key, and she was immediately running to the back, whether that was to call the police or hide you weren't sure.

You and Sam clung onto each other and helped each other up the stairs to the next floor, hobbling to your door like a couple of sick children.

You could tell Sam probably had a concussion, he's starting to look even worse for wear than he was. But he still insists on cleaning you up first.

You try not to whimper too loud when he lifts you onto the bathroom counter, but he shushes you gently when you let out silent scream and you grip his bicep incredibly tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispers.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay. I'm fine." Your reassurance falls on deaf ears. His grip tightens, but he doesn't look all there anymore.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay."

Suddenly, he's back on that road again, holding you in his arms. He remembers how cold you were, how lifeless. He feels weird because, he can see you right there in front of him, but somehow, his brain is telling him you're gone. You're not here anymore. His plan failed and he never got to tell you-

"Sam!"

His eyes refocus and he feels your hands on his cheeks. They're warm, and they're soft, nothing like how they were then. They rub his face gently, but the look on your face is one of concern, and mainly fear. He didn't realize how hard he was holding onto you, letting go as soon as he comes back from whatever that was.

"Sammy, where'd you go?"

He's not entirely sure, but he knows he can't tell you, or it could potentially break the deal. "Huh?"

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gazing at you like he didn't just stare into your soul with the most fearful tear filled look you'd ever seen.

"Sam, what happened?" You ask seriously, "I lost you for a second there."

He shakes his head. "No you didn't, I'm good." He breaks eye contact and grabs the alcohol, pouring it onto the cloth and gripping your shoulder.

"On three?"

You sigh, and take a deep breath. "Yeah."

"1-"

"2-"

"HOLY FUCK-" You practically double over and almost fall off the counter. You would have if Sam hadn't wrapped his other arm around you and kept you still while he cleaned the blood off and disinfected your wound.

"Sh, sh, sh, you're good, you're good. You got it, yeah? Breathe with me."

You grit your teeth as you try your best to follow along. "Fucking- shit, I hate you so bad right now."

"You'll get over it."

Once he's done cleaning it, he's able to wrap it and get it fixed up in no time. It still hurts, but, you've let him baby you enough.

"Alright, Winchester, your turn."

"You can't even lift your arm-"

With your good hand, you lift your other arm and use it to smack him across the shoulder.

He scoffs, "That's cheating."

"I still have one good arm left, so watch your mouth."

He rolls his eyes, but he relaxes when your soft touch spreads over the skin on his forehead. He watches you as you clean and bandage the wound just like he did, but now your faces are close, and he remembers he's standing in between your legs.

"Stop staring at me." You mumble, concentrating on stitching the last part on his cut, but also on the way he's staring you down.

"I'm not." He shakes his head, but you pinch him for moving, so he mutters out a sorry, and stands still again. A couple minutes later, you tap him on the shoulder, stating that you're all finished, and he gets this look on his face when he moves away from you.

"Can you uh- help me out?" You laugh, embarrassed a little bit for asking him to help you off the counter, but he does it without even thinking. His hands slide under your underarms again, lifting you just a little to where you can slide your butt off the counter. "Thanks."

"No problem." He nods his head, sending you his boyish smile, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest a bit. Did this guy really just stand between your legs and patch you up?

You both get into your separate beds, and lay down on your fresh clean pillows. a nice contrast to the doors of the Impala. But, as much as you like the bed, you almost wish Sam would invite you into his. It's much more silent than you wish it was, but Sam must have felt the same way because his voice cuts through the silence.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You look over, "Yeah?"

"Try not to get yourself killed too much, yeah? I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smile softly, "The same goes for you, Winchester."

He thinks that's the closest thing to a confession that he can get.

DAY 6

He wishes you would've stayed in bed longer.

"How is it that I've almost died like three times in the same week?" You ask him, hands holding your face up on your knees while the two of you sit on the curb on the side of the road.

The Impala is crushed.

Dean can most definitely fix it. But not until he's murdered the both of you and buried you in Bobby's backyard.

"How about we not mention that?" Sam suggests, peering over at you while you stare directly ahead at the car.

"Why not? I mean, we almost die everyday doing what we do, but like, this week- man, this week has been horrible." This sounds like the start of a ramble, and he's right. "I've come like an inch from death so many times this week I'm surprised it didn't actually happen. Like, right there, ten minutes ago, I swear I thought it was over. One minute, I'm singing along with you and the next Baby's upside down in the middle of nowhere." You shrug, and after a minute, you start to laugh to yourself.

"I feel like this is some sort of sign from the universe or something, so- so I'm just gonna say it." You push yourself to your feet and turn around, facing him, while he's still sitting on the curb looking up at you curiously.

"Say what?" He asks cautiously.

"Dude, I love you." You breathe out all in one breath. "I love you, Sam. You're my best friend, and I don't think I tell you that nearly enough, but you are. And so is Dean, but Dean's different, he's not- he's not you Sam. He's my best friend too, but you're..." he wants to laugh at the way you're staring at the sky and shaking your hands trying to come up with what you're trying to say, but he's so gobsmacked right now he can't really do anything else but stare in wonder. "You're Sam. You sleep with me in the car even though I can tell you get nervous, and even though I'm always nervous too you make it go away. You still stick by me even when I'm stupid and you carry me away from all the bad guys that try to kill us," you laugh," and you stitch me up and bandage all my wounds when I'm hurt even when I don't want you to because I know you love me and you show me better, and I wish I could do the same, so this is me showing you."

He stands from where he was sitting, but he can't really move anything else. He wants to move towards you, though something is holding him back. His chest starts to fill with dread, and suddenly, the deal is starting to glare at him straight in the face.

"Please don't let it be weird now, you don't have to say anything, just- let's sit with this and figure out how to get home, yeah?"

"Well, Winchester, things turned out for you, didn't they?"

Your body turns to look at the woman behind you, and Sam merely looks over your shoulder to see the demon he was hoping not to see.

Your face contorts, "Who the hell are you?"

Her face brightens, and her smirk gets wider as she glances between you and Sam.

"Aren't you two just perfect for each other?" She claps her hands together. "I'm so glad you've come to your senses, hun. Now, I can finally be on my merry way."

"No," you stop her, "How do you know us?" Your body twists again to face Sam, and all of a sudden, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. Just by looking at his face you know something is wrong. "Sam?"

"I'll explain everything-"

"Go easy on him, sweetheart. What he did saved your life." She winks, and her signature red hair swishes when she disappears, just like that, just as she'd appeared.

"Sam..." you start, your voice dangerously low, "Who the hell was that."

He clenches his fists, taking a step closer to you, "Y/N, look-"

"Just tell me straight out, Sam! What was she talking about?" You practically shout at him, you're so anxious, you don't know what to do, what to expect. But what you possibly expected was nothing like what he said.

"You died. She was the reason why I got you back."

Your eyes hold a heaviness to them that only great sadness could bring, and he wishes he could take away that burden but he can't. He gave it to you.

"What?" You whisper. You say anything any louder and you think you might snap.

"She made a deal: I have seven days to-to..." he sighs, closing his eyes and prepares himself for what he's going to say next, "to get you to tell me you love me. Otherwise, you would stay dead. Permanently."

You don't say anything for a minute or two, and he doesn't expect you to, but he wishes you would have more of a reaction than what you're having now. There's this blank stare on your face, but it's sunken and it looks like he's given you burden upon burden to carry. Maybe he has.

"So basically," you start, clearing your throat, "You made a fucking bet, with a demon, you could get me to fall in love with you in seven days?" You scoff, "Otherwise, I'd be dead for good."

"No, that's not-"

"That's what it sounds like to me, Sam!" You scream.

His face falls, "I saved you. Nothing, and I mean nothing, else mattered, okay? I didn't care what kind of bet- no, I meant deal, I meant deal, it was, okay." He shakes his head. "Obviously I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't lose you, alright? I had the opportunity and I took it."

Your heart burns, it feels like you need to claw it out and throw some water on it, but all you can do is let it fester and grow and heat up every single nerve ending in your body. You want to be fine with it, he saved you, but, this isn't how it's supposed to be.

"I can't do this right now." You mutter, closing your eyes.

"What?" He steps forward, and you take three steps back.

"I have to go."

DAY 7

"You picked her up, right? She's with you?"

"Yes, Sam, she's with me. And you better be with Baby, you hear me?"

Sam rolls his eyes, and looks to the car that's being worked on in the shop.

"And don't let them touch her. I'll do the work myself when we get her back to Bobby's."

Sam grimaces, "It's a little late for that, buddy."

"Sam!-"

"Look, drop her off, okay. When you come here, I'll take the car back and you stay here, got it?"

"You're so lucky I saw Y/N first, or I would've whooped your ass-"

"Yeah, I got it, see you soon."

He hangs up the call and slaps it closed, the sound echoing into the air as he puts it back into his pocket. He looks around, but it's just empty road, and the car shop.

So he'll just have to wait.

...

"Dean?" Your voice calls out through the house loud and clear, and it makes him sad to think you may not be so happy seeing that it's him.

"It's me."

Your figure appears in the doorway of the kitchen, opposite of him.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey."

You're both quiet for a moment, not really knowing what to say, or even how to start, but Sam can only think of one thing.

"You can be mad at me, I deserve it. But just know I did it because I love you. Even though you made me promise to all that moving on shit, I couldn't do it." He pauses. "I know you love me too, but if you need time I understand that."

"Sam," your voice breaks, "I understand why you did it, but why did you have to lie?"

His chest sucked in, "She-she made it a part of the deal, that you couldn't know. If you knew or found out it would've been off."

Your shoulders droop and you step toward him, just one step.

"I just- I just can't believe that I died, Sam."

"I know." He nods, "I know. If you... have any more questions, I'm here to answer them."

You shake your head, but don't say anything else. Neither of you really have to, everything's been said. It's up to you where this goes from here.

You take two steps closer, closing most of the gap between you, and lean into him. His right hand drops the bag he was holding and wraps his arms around you, holding you close just as he did several days ago. You don't hug, or squeeze, but you're there, and that's what matters.

"I love you," you breathe, "but you're such an idiot."

He shakes a little bit with laughter, "I know."

"But, if I'm being honest," you look up at him, "I probably would have done the same thing too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Nothing else has to be said. But he can't help but lean his face closer to yours, waiting, hoping that this wasn't something he was imagining. Your eyes bore into his, and you're the one who closes the space between you. Once the gap is filled there's no breaking it apart, and neither of you plan to.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural

[tinkerleaf]

Prom with Dazai!

This man has me gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure like a gorilla On another note, I hate how this turned out, but for some reason, this was so hard to write. Warnings: light cursing, a little ooc Pairing: dazai/reader Genre: fluff? Words: 585-ish Tags: @estelera11891

It was supposed to be just a simple favor, that’s it. All he had to do was be your escort to your senior prom, but it seemed to be a more difficult task than he had planned. Your friends were fine, they weren’t the issue. Neither was the music or the venue, or the faint smell of alcohol radiating from the teachers. It was you, you were the problem.

He didn’t know how enamored he would be the second he caught sight of you in your attire. He had no idea that he would be drugged by your presence, a warmth he had never known before. The lighting made your eyes look beautiful when they fell opon them. The feeling of your skin and fabric against his fingertips when the two of you danced sent him into a daze.

You two looked absolutely perfect together. You could hear a couple of your friends talk amongst themselves about Dazai, wondering who the handsome stranger was.

Out on the lonely patio, his eyes were all over your figure. His feelings for you were rather tame before, but now, he was losing his mind. He rested against the banister while you were facing the water. You smiled toward him, “Thanks for coming with me, I really appreciate you being here.”

He shrugged, “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be alone at Prom.” He thought back to the asshole that ditched you to go with someone else. When he actually saw them, he knew you really dodged a bullet. “I was actually quite surprised when you asked me to accompany you.”

You smiled, “I don’t think I’d have it any other way.” Your words slightly startled him, as if you may feel the same way.

He felt a sudden urge and slowly leaned closer to you. As you turn towards him, he slides a hand to caress your face as a rosy tint scattered across it. He looked so handsome in his suit, you could just melt. “Me neither.” Without wasting any time, he closed the gap between you two. It was a sweet, yet passionate kiss that surprised you more than anything. You had no idea that Dazai had any kind of feelings for you, but you weren’t one to complain.

When you two separated, he placed his forehead on yours. His eyes were sickeningly alluring. He placed another kiss on your temple, “It’s almost time to wrap up. Why don’t we get out of here?”

“Sure. Have something in mind?”

“Maybe, if you’re up for it.”

The two of you ended the night by getting ice cream. You talked and laughed about all kinds of things on the way back to your apartment, your hand in his. You couldn’t have asked for a better date to prom.

“I had a really nice time tonight.” You confessed.

As much as he hated to admit falling for someone, he did have a lot of fun with you. “Me too. Maybe we could go on an actual date sometime soon.”

“I’d love that.”

After saying goodbye and settling in at home, you scrolled through all the pictures you took. A trend that you noticed was how happy Dazai looked, something you didn’t see quite often.

Suddenly, a message buzzed from your phone. And then two. And then more. Your group chat was dying to know more details about Dazai.

When you told them he was your coworker, one of your friends got excited. ‘They got any more hotties like that at the agency?’ They sure do.

#anime #bsd #bungou stray dogs #fanfic #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai #bsd x reader #reqs open #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #prom series #prom #bungou stray dogs x reader #x you #x reader #gn reader #reader insert #requests open #request #fluff #fanfiction