Tumgik
#ugh i want him to snap me in half
inkykeiji · 2 years
Note
Okay but imagine all the sex positions you can have with SD!Natsuo where he picks you up like it's nothing and fucks you in the air 👀
YESSSSS ANON YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES oh my god the two positions that immediately came to mind for me were the cradle and apollo yum yum yum like !!!!! the idea of sugar daddy natsuo folding you up like a fucking pretzel and twisting you into whichever position he wants just to use you like a damn toy as he fucks the life outta you <3 those smooth, sculpted muscles of his biceps and triceps just rippling with each forceful pound of his hips into you as he grips you harder and harder, holds you tighter and tighter, bounces you faster and faster <33
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nanaslutt · 7 months
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okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL
Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..
contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.
“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.
“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.
After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.
“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.
“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.
“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.
“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.
But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..
..which might’ve been a mistake.
You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—
“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.
Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.
“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.
“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.
He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.
“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.
The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.
“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.
“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.
“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.
“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.
“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.
“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.
“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.
He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.
“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.
“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.
“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.
“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”
“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.
“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.
“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.
“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.
Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.
“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.
“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..”
Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.
“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.
When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.
“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.
“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’
He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.
“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.
“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.
“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.
“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.
“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.
“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”
“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.
“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.
“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.
Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.
He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.
Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.
“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.
“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.
You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”
His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.
“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.
“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.
When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”
“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.
You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.
“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.
“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.
“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.
The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.
‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.
“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.
You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.
He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.
You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.
“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.
He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.
“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.
“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.
“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.
You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.
You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.
“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.
He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.
He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it— whatever gojo did, you did.
“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.
“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.
“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.
Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.
“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.
“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.
“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.
“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.
“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.
“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.
You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.
“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.
“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.
“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.
“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.
“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.
Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.
“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.
“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.
“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.
You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.
“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.
You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.
“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.
“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.
“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.
You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.
“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.
Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.
After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.
Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”
pt. 2 here
7K notes · View notes
falling-endlessly · 5 months
Text
Boomerang (part 2)
Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader
Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"
"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."
Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"
"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.
"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."
"Vel—"
"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"
"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."
"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."
"I'm not hiding—"
"Bullshit!" She growled.
Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.
After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."
Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."
She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."
Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.
"Thanks," you said sincerely.
She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.
****
Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.
His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.
Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.
"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."
Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?
But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"
Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."
"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"
Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.
Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.
Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.
"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.
"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?
"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."
By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."
He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.
"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.
"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.
"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"
She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."
Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.
You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.
And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.
"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.
"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.
****
"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.
Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.
"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"
"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."
"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.
Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."
Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.
"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.
"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.
"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.
"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"
"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"
 "Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"
"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."
"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.
"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"
"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"
"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.
"I'll kill him first."
"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.
"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.
"You what?" you snapped.
"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"
The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.
"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"
"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"
Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."
"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"
"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.
"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."
You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.
"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."
Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.
"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.
****
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah
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kissitbttr · 6 months
Note
omgomgomg… a lil quickie w frat!miguel before his big game me thinks 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️
“do you think they have fries stall back in the booth? i want their seaweed one”
“my dick is literally inside you muñeca, and you’re talking about fries?!”
he has you pressed down against the locker room’s bench, where his teammates had already gone. snuck you in the moment he checked that the locker’s empty,
in which you were against at first, because it’s smelly and being in the boy’s locker room is disgusting. you told him that before. suggested to do it in the teacher’s lounge or library like you both always do it, where everyone is off to the game. but he couldn’t wait that long.
it has been pretty much a ritual for him and you to fuck before the game. something about being a good luck charm when he fucks you. especially when you look as good in your cheerleading uniform. that short skirt and skin tight top makes him go crazy. you can’t blame him.
“well i’m hungry! i only had that half of burger gloria shared with me and it wasn’t enough!” you protest with a huff, sliding your hands to his biceps,
he rolls his eyes, fingers running through his lightly dampen hair, stealing a kiss from you to get you to be quiet.
“i’ll get you everything they have there, muñeca, yeah? but now? i need you to shut up for a moment”
he hooks his arms underneath the back of your knees, circling them around his waist as he plunges deeper into you making you gasp at the sudden stretch, toes curling at the sensation
miguel smiles at your reaction, hoisting your skirt up just a bit more. “mierda.. you look absolutely beautiful, baby” he grunts, thrusting his cock a little bit faster,
you dig your finger tips into the skin of his arms as he fucks you, back arched deliciously as he watches your tits bounce inside the material of your top,
“oh fuck, miggy” your whine comes off high pitched, needy. one that he has find himself obsessed with. “d-don’t stop, baby—fuck, that feels so good”
hearing that makes him growl, resting his forearm above your head to help him press down his weight on you just a little bit. your jaw goes slack, eyes lulling to the back of your head and nothing miguel appreciates more than the sight before him,
“gonna come, sweetheart? hm?” his hand moves to your jaw, getting you to look at him. his thrusts going even more brutal and deeper making you whimper
“gonna coat my cock, aren’t you? be my good girl”
nodding fast, you bite down your lower lip. big wide eyes looking into him and he swears he’s not going to make it too. not when you look at him like that,
“y-yes! yes miggy, please let me cum!”
soon enough, you both reach your high. soft moans and loud groans escaped your mouths,
miguel stays in you for a while to catch his breath, forehead resting against your collarbone before chuckling. he presses a soft kiss on the soft skin before pulling out,
he watches you trying to regain your composure, breathing heavily with your arm above your head,
“earth to muñeca? you good?l” he heavy pants with a joke, patting your thigh,
your eyes snap open to look at him, giving him a small yet satisfied smile. “i’m good.”
he helps you get up slowly after that, not before pulling the condom off him and throwing it in the trash,
“miguel!” you slap his arm. “people will see that! throw it outside!”
“no one is going to! the janitor maybe. and i’m sure he had his fair shares of seeing used condoms” he shrugs, wiping his hands off the varsity
you brush it off before pulling your panties up and skirt down, fixing up the ponytail after. you eye yourself through the small mirror attached on the wall, removing any smudged mascara and lipstick,
“do i smell like sex? i feel like i smell like sex. ugh, i smell like you!”
he quirks an eyebrow. “and what is wrong about that?”
“nothing! i like smelling like you. but they will—“
“know that i fucked the shit out of you and that you’re my girl? yes” he leaves a soft kiss on your cheek,
you smile at that, looking over your shoulder before pointing your finger at his neck,
“also you have a hickey”
he widens his eyes. “what?! FUCK!”
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cosmosis · 1 year
Text
MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - can’t sleep
you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you (i hope my spanish was okay)
Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day. 
Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked. 
You’re cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. 
At the moment, Miguel doesn’t really know where you are. Considering your current state, he thinks you’re out on a mission, or at least somewhere in the office. 
He’s already tried walking through the entire office just looking for you. He checked the cafeteria, gym, hallway, etc. muttering, “Where th’fuck are they?” But, you were nowhere to be found.
So, Miguel tries something different. He pulls up his watch, scrolling down to a button that he really only should be using for emergencies, but to Miguel, this is an emergency on its’ own. 
He presses the button, and suddenly his entire face is broadcasted to every single watch in the building. Dramatically, the emergency siren turns on, and all the spider-people are on their feet. 
“If anyone sees my wife, please report back to me asap. Tell her to come see me, I can’t find her anywhere.“
The whole office can see Miguel rub a hand over his face, visibly both annoyed and tired. Everyone starts looking back and forth, tilting heads and making sure that you didn’t just happen to be around somewhere. Once the camera turns off, though, nearly the entire building starts chuckling. 
It’s crazy how much Miguel’s face utterly lights up when he sees his watch ringing without your contact photo. Literally in a split second, he presses the button, opening up a microphone icon. 
“Miguel?“
Ugh, he just loves the sound of your voice. 
“¿Si querida?“
He hears you groan, possibly the sound of bedsheets shuffling, and it pulls at his heart. You’ve been so miserable lately, he just wants to see you back to your happy self again. 
“Come home, now.“
Just the tone of your voice alone put a worried frown on Miguel’s face. (He never likes to admit how much of an impact your emotions have on him.) An ugly, anxious swarm starts to build at the back of his head, making him impossibly nervous. 
Luckily, Miguel knows what to do. 
“Of course, hun. I’ll be there in 10.“
And he turns the watch off, sighing to himself after. He’s a little bit nervous now, fearing as though he did something to upset you, or that you had something serious to talk about when he came home. 
Every step Miguel takes to your shared home brought him closer and closer on edge, worry and theory swirling through his mind. His brain ping-ponged through every single possible reason why you’d want him to come home, especially in such a cranky matter. Maybe you were just tired? Maybe it was because he accidentally gave you a raisin bagel instead of a everything bagel?
By the time Miguel was at the door, his heart was beating erratically in his chest, hands the slightest bit shaky. Stepping inside, Miguel instantly beelined for your shared bedroom, gently opening the door. 
He sees you shuffle around in the covers, his heart secretly swooning. You’re just so cute when you’re half asleep; needy and cuddlier than usual. Already at the bedroom door, Miguel practically rips his shirt off, kicking off his pants and making his way over to where you lay. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, gingerly swiping strands of hair off your face. 
“What is it, hun?“ He coos.
You toss and turn, barely mustering a frown onto your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tank top almost falling off your shoulder until Miguel readjusts it for you. 
“Can’t sleep without you.“ You mumble, slowly scooting yourself over and draping your arms towards him. Miguel practically swoons, cooing and leaning into your touch. How could he resist such an offer?
“Awh, baby.“ 
He tangles himself into bed with you, breathing the biggest sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he thought it was. You just wanted snuggles. Miguel takes it upon himself to spoil you extra, ghosting his touch over your back and kissing the darling skin of your temple.
Like the thousands of times he has before, Miguel tangles his legs into yours, kneading his fingers into the skin of your raised leg.  
Within a few minutes or so, Miguel feels you knock out like a light, tiny puffs of air escaping your mouth while you fist the sheets like a baby. He sighs, staring at you for a few moments while you sleep. Affectionately, he rubs his knuckles against your cheek, smooching your forehead. 
Miguel pulls a blanket over the both of you, knowing very well that by the time you’re awake, it’ll be completely on the floor. Readjusting his position, Miguel doses off to sleep, allowing himself to completely let go of all the stresses he holds. 
After all, he can’t sleep without you either. 
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© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.
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totalswag · 5 months
Note
okay so rafe x brat!reader with a huge attitude towards everyone around her ??? only rafe could make her calm down n behave omg the dream
attitude attitude - RAFE CAMERON
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authors note pretty sure you sent me request before you sent me this one but THANK YOU for this idea. i can definitely see rafe being the only one to calm brat!reader down in these certain circumstances. just the thought of rafe doing this ugh only a girl could dream 😫.
requests are still open so feel free to send them my way. if you click on the bold red font it will take you to my ask box lovies!!!
summary brat!reader has a huge attitude towards everyone and her boyfriend rafe is the only one to calm her down.
warnings drinking, smoking, cursing, possible fight, making out, implied smut
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Rafe and you were on our way to a kook party, which had been the talk of Kildcare for quite some time. The traffic lights made the drive take ten minutes. Rafe had his right hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel.
Rafe let out a breath, turning his head in your direction as you look out the passenger window, "Y/N before we get to the party, please be on your best behavior tonight," you turn your head around looking at him confused.
"And what if I'm not on my best behavior?" You smirk, tilting your head to the side.
Rafe laughs as he turns the corner toward the house. "You already know what will happen, princess," he says in the tone that just gets you going.
One thing about you have a bad attitude towards everyone around you. You have a short temper and become overstimulated easily. Rafe is the only person who can calm you down and behave in certain situations.
You say what needs to be said and don't care whose feelings get hurt. You have no fear confronting someone that's been talking about you or anyone you care for in a negative way.
If anything, Rafe and you are nearly the same, except you are worse.
The party has undoubtedly been the topic of much discussion during the last week. Outside, music can be heard, as can voices. Rafe held your hand as you two entered the big house, which smelled of weed, alcohol, people making out, and bodies grinding against each other. To move around the house, you have to squeeze.
A few guys recognized Rafe- calling out his name, waving, or dabbing him up.
"The fuck you looking at?" You question a group of girls who give you a filthy look as you walk past them with Rafe.
Rafe squeezed your waist after you snapped at the girls, "remember what I said princess."
You rolled your eyes as you let out a huff at his comment but on the inside you wanted to get on your knees for that man. There's something about the way the word princess rolls off his tongue.
Rafe and you parted ways after spending a majority of time together in the first half n hour. He went to hang out with the guys, while you are with some of your girlfriends. You two trust each other enough to be away from each other at parties like these.
He was out on the balcony which wasn't far from where you were. So if anything were to happen he would be there in a second.
Your girlfriends and you were in the living room, sitting on the couch with drinks in our hands after dancing for thirty minutes in the large crowd to the music which was still packed with sweaty bodies rubbing against one another.
"This party is packed," Olivia, one of your girlfriends, exclaimed while gazing around.
The rest of you are nodding in agreement with Olivia's comment.
"Josh will have a lot to pick up in the morning," you say, taking a sip from your drink, talking about the guy who's hosting the party.
You noticed the group of girls you snapped at earlier walking up to where you and your friends were seated; they stood close enough for you to hear what they were saying.
You tell your friends about the little incident. They all agreed it wasn't that big of a deal. You were wondering why they were giving you a dirty look for no reason.
"Can you believe that bitch came in with her guy earlier? I can't believe Rafe is even with that girl," the girl shouts to her friends, clearly affected by the situation. Her friends all agreed and saying their imput.
Who do these girls think they are? You think.
Thalia's jaw dropped as she heard what the girl said. Thalia rushes to look at you, but she already sees you standing up to confront the group of girls.
"This isn't going to end well, get Rafe right now," Olivia runs towards Thalia, pointing to the balcony.
Thalia sprints to the balcony to grab Rafe and the guys. Olivia looks in your direction with worry- she knows you like the back of her hand.
"Like Rafe can do so much better than that sl-" The girl was cut off when you poked her on the shoulder. She turns around about to see who tapped her but shuts her mouth when it's you.
"You wanna finish what you were gonna say?" You ask in a serious tone, crossing your arms over your chest, "because it's really funny hearing you lame asses talking shit about me over something so minor," you remark with a straight face.
Your blood was boiling.
The girl that was talking the most scoffs, putting her hair over her shoulder. "I said that Rafe can do much better than being with a slut like you" she steps close to your face.
Her little posy agreed and putting in their input.
These bitches sound dumb.
You can't help but laugh: "You sound very insecure, you all do in fact," pointing at them. "Calling me a bitch because I clapped back cause you three were giving me a dirty look when I walked in mind my business with my boyfriend?" The tone in your voice indicated that you were not messing around.
She puts her index finger on your chest, "Oh honey that's not us being insecure it's just us stating facts. Plus you are a bitch" she says giving a fake smile.
The moment her finger laid on your chest everything in you was telling you to rip her face off.
You forcefully swap her hand off your chest, taking her off guard with your strength. She glances at you, slightly afraid, but remains calm. Her friends' eyes almost fell out of their sockets.
Other's around have their phones out and waiting for something to happen. To them this is entertainment.
"Am I a bitch for calling you out for giving me a dirty look? Listen, bitch, I have never met you before in my life. I don't care what comes out of my mouth because I'll say what needs to be said." At this point, you are eating the girl up and she has nothing else to say since she knows you are correct.
After you finish your sentence, she rolls her eyes and extends her arms, pushing you back slightly, taking you by surprise. She glances at you, still wanting more. You aren't the kind to fight, but she put her hands on you first.
Your girlfriends rush over immediately. No matter what happens your girls will always have your back.
Before you swung you felt two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the fight that's about to happen.
"What did I tell you princess?" Rafe calmly asks you in your ear. He could feel the tension in your body on a hundred.
The group of girls begin giggling, "Aw, you need your boyfriend to pull you away from that mu-" Rafe instantly hushed her up, "You shut the fuck up!" he said sternly, pointing at her and gazing at her straight-faced.
Others around started laughing.
Rafe halted in front of the host, Josh, and told him to kick the group of girls out of the party. Josh nods and instructs the girls to leave due of the ruckus they created.
Rafe took you upstairs to a room for you to cool down. He knows what to do in situations like these- always gives you reassurance, gives you a cold bottle of water, telling you that everything's going to be okay and to take deep breath's.
When your body is placed on the bed carefully, you let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair, shaking your head. Ranting about the encounter that happened.
Rafe stands between your open legs, gently grasping your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, and tilting your head back slightly to make eye contact with him.
"Princess you are okay, focus on the sound of my voice, yeah?" He says in a calming tone that relaxes you, placing the front section of your hair behind your ear.
The more Rafe calms you down the more relaxed you feel. Words cannot explain how you appreciated him. You can't imagine how you could get out of this moment without him helping you out of it.
"There you go, just keep repeating that," Rafe says as you take long breathes in and out.
Once you calmed down enough you looked up to Rafe, still standing between your legs, looking at you with his blue eyes.
"Thank you for calming me down- I love you," you say, smiling with your teeth, "of course, anything for my girl. I know how you get in these types of situations and it's my job to calm you down" he says before kissing your lips softly.
When he pulls away you ask him the question, "Are you mad at me?" You asked curiously.
"No, I'm not, but it was really hot seeing you like that," he grins as he plays with the gold necklace he got you with his first initial.
You cover your face with your palm, blushing. Rafe takes your hand away, putting it back on your lap and moving closer to you, causing your back to hit the bed's comforter.
You two look into each other's eyes and then kiss. The sexual tension in the room starts to rise. You both crave each other's touch in the most intimate way.
"I want you Rafe," you moan between kisses, "so bad" dragging out the d, running your hands down his clothed chest.
"I'm all yours."
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jesuistrestriste · 6 days
Note
Tying subby Art down to the bed with ribbons, edging him over and over because he was being a fuckin brat. He'd look so damn pretty with tears staining his cheeks, just begging, "Please, mommy, please! I promise ill be good!" Crying harder when you slap him, telling him to shut the fuck up and stop whining (i KNOW this man whimpers)
Art Donaldson had known this was coming. Or, he really should have. He’d gotten mouthy with you. If he had corrected his behavior, he wouldn't currently have his arms tied up to the bed while you straddled his thighs and made his life a living hell. Sigh, if only he had just thought ahead.
His little quips of mumbled attitude throughout the day had made you grow increasingly frustrated. And they were so incessant that you had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. The last straw came when he had said something along the lines of "can you please just fucking touch me? you're being so rigid right now.."
Oh? He wanted to be 'fucking touched'?
He thought you were being 'rigid'?
Fine. You'd give him something to really whine about.
-
And that you did.
Art's body is shaking furiously under your seat over his legs, his hips jolting and squirming over the bed as his head tips back and he sobs. Big, fat, heavy tears pour down the sides of his face, but they did nothing to convince you to relent.
Your hand had been furiously stroking his aching cock for the past hour and a half. It was brutal. The stiffened, throbbing flesh had gushed more spurts of precome than you could ever count or keep track of, and it was now coated in a slimy film of his own filth mixed with the water-based lube you poured over him every fifteen minutes to keep him slick.
You had denied him ten times so far. The tears had come after the fourth denial. It was all downhill from there.
He's now crying so hard that his chest is heaving, but you opt to rub your free hand over his contracting abdomen as you touch his erection instead of letting him come. Because, after all, he'd been a brat all day. He deserves this. Deep down, under the layers of faint resentment, desperation, anguish, and hopelessness, even he knows he deserves this.
His blonde curls are a mess against the pillow, and his wrists are starting to feel raw from the constant tugging on the thick, satin ribbons holding his hands in place and away from his body (and yours). All that truly keeps him from bucking up into your hand the way he so desperately wants to is your firm seat over his trembling legs. You keep him in place. You keep him grounded. Physically, if not mentally and emotionally.
As your hand moves up to quickly fist his sensitive tip in your grasp, a slurry of precome comes dribbling out and Art's body all but snaps in half as his back arches up from the mattress and he lets out a wail of a moan.
"Please!" he cries, his head thrashing against the plush cushion underneath, his hands once again involuntarily yanking at the bondage, "Ugh—! I can't do any more! No more! N-No more!"
You smile.
He hiccups and tries to swallow down another sob before he chokes on it and it comes tumbling out from his lips anyway.
If he really wanted to stop, he'd say the safeword. Even in the most intense depths of his submissive mindscape, he could say the word to you. Through tears, through thrusts, through anything. So you didn't stop. He could take some more.
You shake your head, your hand on his abdomen rubbing in slow, comforting circles as you look over his flushed body. Your hand on his pulsing length twists around his cockhead as your wrist rolls, and your palm glides over his leaking slit in one long, languid stroke. He immediately keens and his eyes roll back as he tugs at the ties again.
"Be quiet, Art," you say, your hand circling his tip before it goes back to stroking him fully up and down, "you're fine. You were a bad boy today, so do you really think I'm gonna let you off so easy? Be still."
He starts to shake his head as he whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut, before he nods reluctantly and tries to steady his twitching and shuddering.
He wants to grab your thighs, your forearms, or, hell, even the sheets. He'd grab whatever was available at this point if he could, but he can't. So he settles for wrapping his hands around the length of ribbon that connects each knot around his wrist to the appropriate spot near the headboard.
He'd torn his hands up on multiple occasions from playing tennis. The stinging callouses that bled when he carried on without bandaging were more tolerable than this. By far. He'd take a handful of those over any more of this agonizing torture. And he'd say this to you if he could speak instead of bawl. Maybe then you'd believe how badly he needs to finish.
He manages to pull himself together just enough to lift his head up and look to you as he miraculously slurs out some words through his tears. Two fresh ones drip down his pink cheeks as he attempts to barter with you.
"Please— Oh, please—!" he whined, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel hot all over, "I promise I'll be good now! I swear-!"
You frown and stroke him faster, before your hand over his stomach lifts up and you lean in to swiftly slap him across the the face. It was hard enough to make a sound, but certainly not hard enough to do any actual damage to his pretty cheek.
Just hard enough to hurt and make a point.
His head snaps to the side with the force of the hit, a red tint beginning to creep over his delicate skin, and he lets his head fall back onto the pillow again. A loud, painful whimper erupts from his chest as new waves of tears fall.
Impact-play is something he enjoys, especially during times like this, but he makes that hard to believe when he only goes and cries harder in response.
"You seriously need to learn when to shut your mouth," you snap, "no more whining or I'll just leave you here like this for the rest of the night."
"Nooo," he sobs in defeat. Your words burn him, but they burn so good. His orgasm is creeping in quickly again, but he knows you'll stop it before he gets there.
If you pay attention, it's easy to observe that Art has tells for when he's about to release. He goes from loud moans to stifled, shaky gasps that increase in pace and frequency. He goes from harsh jolts and convulsions to being stiff as a board. His body's sensitivity lets him be an open book. He's an easy read, that's all. And oh boy, can you read him well.
His bodily reactions and habits—at the very least—make your job easier. If he was less sensitive and less reactive, you would have a much harder time edging him properly. That's for sure.
Eventually, after two more denials, you decide to let him finally finish. He almost doesn't believe it when you keep stroking him after he's already stiffened up and gone quiet. His brows are all pinched up and his eyes are squeezed shut as the ribbon digs into his flesh. His hips can't really buck into your touch with you still sitting over him, but he tries anyway while he tenses up all over. His lips part in a silent, anticipatory moan.
Your hand gives him four solid pumps after his body warns you of the rapidly building pleasure, and then Art is cumming with a sharp cry.
His entire form shudders as his heels dig into the bed, and he nearly bucks you off of him like a startled horse from the force and intensity of his orgasm. Your eyes stay fixed to his sensitive parts in your grasp as his balls empty completely over your hand and his lower abdomen in thick, sticky ropes.
It's a heavy load. It's so much that it almost looks like someone spilled a bunch of translucent, sugary icing all over his body and between your fingers. it's so much that it almost seems inhuman. It just goes on and on and on. And he just moans and moans and moans.
"Yess-ss—! Ohh—! yesyesyesyes—!"
"Ahh! AH! Mmngh—!"
He makes the prettiest sounds.
You pump him faster.
You milk him until he gets oversensitive and starts to whine, squirming and panting and gasping for air, and then you finally (finally) let him go.
He collapses down instantly, twitching with the aftershocks, but laying completely spent like a puppet with cut strings. He's beautiful.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," is all he can slur out as his eyes remain unfocused and lidded.
"You're welcome," you say.
your voice is tender and helps to bring him down. In a moment or two, you'll untie his wrists and press a kiss to each. You'll bring him a glass of water and grab a towel to clean him up after you wash your hands. You'll hold him and cuddle him and stroke his sore muscles as he buries his face in your neck. You'll tell him you love him, and how good he did until he can fall asleep.
You wear him out like a dog sometimes, but if you asked him to bark.. who's to say he wouldn't?
All that Art knows as he drifts off is one truth:
He's never going to be bratty ever again.
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be4chywritez · 8 days
Text
family | luke hughes
luke hughes x fem!reader
you feel happy that your boyfriend’s brothers like you
request are open!
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You stood in front of the mirror, carefully applying the final touches of your makeup. The room was filled with the sounds of Luke humming a tune and Jack’s playful teasing. Luke was sprawled out on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV while Jack lounged on the other bed, tossing a hacky sack with his good arm.
“You almost ready?” Luke asked, watching you with such love.
“Almost,”you replied, glancing at him through the mirror with a smile. “Just need to fix my hair.”
Jack smirked and chimed in. “Come on, Y/N, it’s just a game. You don’t need to impress anyone.”
You rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “It’s family night, Jack. I want to look nice.”
Luke sat up and moved behind you, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You always look beautiful,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Ugh, you two are so gross,” Jack groaned, adjusting the sling that held his arm. “Get a room!”
“We have one, and you’re in it,” Luke shot back with a grin, catching the pillow Jack threw at him and tossing it back.
-
Family nights at games were always a highlight for the Hughes clan. Tensions buzzed in the air as you arrived at the Rogers Stadium.
you felt slightly uncomfortable going, but Ellen insisted saying that you’re “practically family” at this point with how long you’ve been with Luke.
Ellen helped you onto the ice while Luke tied his skates. Quinn skated over toward Ellen, giving her a hug, then Jack, Jim, Luke, and finally, you. He pulled you into a hug, which was rare for Quinn but made you feel giddy knowing that your boyfriend’s brother liked you.
Quinn pulled away, giving you a small but genuine smile. “Good to see you, Y/N.”
You returned the smile, feeling warmth spread through you. “Good to see you too, Quinn. Excited for the game?”
Quinn nodded, glancing around at his family. “Yeah, it’s always better with everyone here.”
Luke skated over, slipping his arm around your waist. “You wanna skate around with Dad and me?” he asked. You looked over at Luke. Quinn watched how much warmth radiated from you when you were with Luke; it made him happy.
You nodded, grabbing Luke’s outstretched hand. He gave Quinn a nod and you smiled at Quinn. “Hey, be careful out there,” Quinn called out, knowing how reckless his younger brother could be.
Jim helped you stay steady on the ice when Luke decided it would be funny to pick up the pace, Jim tighten his hold on you as you scolded Luke to slow down.
eventually the family hour was coming to a close and the game getting closer, photographers swarming to get photos of players and their families.
A photographer approached. “Can we get a Hughes family photo?” he asked, camera at the ready.
You instinctively stepped back, giving the Hughes family space for their moment. You watched as Luke, Jack, Ellen, and Jim gathered together, a perfect picture of familial love and support.
Just as the photographer was about to take the picture, Quinn looked up and noticed you standing off to the side. His usual stoic expression softened. “Y/N, get in here,” he called out, his voice carrying a tone of insistence that left no room for argument.
You face scrunched in confusion, he waved you over once more, quickly skating to Luke’s side. Luke wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. The photographer snapped the picture.
after the photo was taken Quinn hugged all of you before y’all were guided off the ice and into your seats.
-
Later, as you left the arena, you felt a warm hand slip into yours. You looked up to see Luke smiling down at you, his eyes filled with love.
Luke cleared his throat . “Quinn doesn’t usually do things like that. He really cares about you.”
you looked up, cheeks heated, “Yeah, I’m really happy. I’m just kinda bummed he just started liking me,” you said, half-joking, half-not.
Jack, walking behind you, snorted. “Quinn liked you since the very first time he met you. He kept on saying, ‘I like how Luke’s girl doesn’t post only when she’s with us. Luke’s girl this and that.’” Jack mocked him in a teasing tone.
“Shut up, dude,” Luke said, laughing. “But as he was saying, Quinn really likes you.” He smiled, kissing your cheek.
Jack obnoxiously gagged. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get to the car.”
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bruisedboys · 2 years
Note
thinking of eddie munson in the morning. with his blue checkered boxers and white socks. ugh. raspy morning voice, tired droopy smile. he definitely smothers you in kisses as soon as he’s awake whether or not you are.
omg aerial. I am thinking many thoughts. here’s a little blurb to satisfy both our needs 🫶🏽
fem!reader
“Sweetheart?”
You hear Eddie before you see him, his raspy, sleep-ridden voice carrying from the hallway. You grin to yourself and a moment later he emerges, hair all a mess, completely shirtless with his tattoos on full display, clad in only his boxers and a pair of mismatching socks. He looks pretty like this, barely awake, his tired eyes searching for you.
“Hi, Eds,” you greet quietly, spatula in hand.
Eddie squints at said spatula. “You’re not making breakfast again, are you?” He lifts his narrowed eyes to you. “Thought I told you to stop doing that.”
You roll your eyes. “I want to make you breakfast, dummy.” You turn back to your eggs frying on the stove. Eddie has this idea that you should never have to so much as lift a finger for him, despite the fact you’ve been together for a while now. “That’s what girlfriends do.”
Eddie grumbles and strides across the kitchen to wrap you up confidently. His arms push under yours and his chin comes to rest on your shoulder, your faces side by side. His hands slot over your stomach.
“Get off me, Eds,” you say, with a lot less heat than you intended. “The eggs are gonna burn.”
Eddie ignores you and instead turns his head to plant a kiss on your cheek. What follows is a smothering of sleepy kisses all over the side of your face, your neck, your shoulder and your ear. He’s still half asleep, so his mouth is sloppy and hot as it works along your skin. By the time he’s done your face is burning and you’re giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Eddie!” You chide, breathless and laughing. You throw your spatula down and grab at his arms which are still locked tightly around your waist. You pry him off, turning on your heel to face him, holding his wrists firmly so he doesn’t try anything.
“What?” He asks mock innocently. His bare chest heaves and a charming grin graces his lips.
You scoff. “You know exactly what.”
Eddie shakes his head, wild hair flying, and lifts one toned shoulder. “Can’t say I do, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl. You almost die on the spot. Eddie must sense this because he moves closer and gives you a droopy smile. You try to keep your eyes off his chest, you really do, but he’s so gorgeous, and his inked up skin is like an art piece in a museum to you. You follow a black train of ink from his stomach, up one of his pecs and over his shoulder. Eddie, unbeknownst to you, is a burning furnace under your gaze.
“M’eyes are up here, sweetheart,” he quips.
Your eyes snap to his. Caught red handed. “Shut up,” you grumble.
Eddie just grins all Cheshire-cat like and leans in for a kiss. His mouth works at yours until you’re opening up and breathing him in and letting him kiss you dizzy. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you forget where you are, all sloppy and sweet and love drunk. You think you could stay like this forever.
When you pull away, the eggs are burnt to a crisp in the frying pan. You can’t say you care all that much.
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mediumgayitalian · 2 months
Text
prev
———
Hades’ favourite thing to rant about is how much his family forgets about and sidelines him. Nico has literally never once given the lecture his full attention, because why the fresh fuck would he subject himself to that, but he discovers, lying facedown on the floor of Cabin Three, that he must have internalised enough of it to remember some key points.
He is loathe to admit it, but Father is right. How come the Poseidon cabin floors are so nice and comfortable? The floor of Cabin Thirteen sucks. Whenever he has Floor Time in his own cabin, he gets bruised and cold. Injustice.
“Could you suffer quieter? I’m trying to study.”
“Shut up, Percy.”
“I’m not the one groaning in misery.”
“Shut up, Percy.”
Percy sighs heavily. There’s a loud thud as he snaps his textbook shut, and the creak of mattress springs as he shifts.
“You’re so fuckin’ irritating, you know that?”
“Coming from you,” Nico says indignantly, pushing up to glare at him. Percy makes a face back. “I am here, having a crisis, being vulnerable in front of you —”
“Oh my gods.”
“— like you suggested, to rebuild our tenuous relationship —”
“I wish the prophecy had killed me. Either one, I’m not picky.”
“— and you are studying! Nose in a book! You hate reading! You are doing this just to spite me!”
“I am doing this to pass my classes,” Percy snips. “Someone should send you to public school. You need to experience that particular level of hell.”
“Experienced hell already, thanks. Don’t need a redo.”
“Tartarus references don’t shut me up, Zombie Boy. I’ve been there too.”
“Ugh.”
Percy rolls his eyes, turning back to his textbook. Nico contemplates rolling back on the floor to Ruminate and Think (after the second failure in a row he has a much to think about, like what the fuck is he supposed to do, should he even fucking bother, is he doomed to life without love, etc, etc) but finds himself, instead, sitting upright. Watching his — friend. Watching his heavy frown, listening to the bit-back curses and the crinkle of pages when he holds the book too tightly.
He’s moody, today. Sullen. Ate his breakfast in silence and stomped off to the sword fighting arena, raising hurricane downpour around the open theatre to deter anyone from joining him. Coincidentally, Annabeth has not been seen all day.
“Are you okay?” Nico asks quietly.
Percy shrugs, glancing over then glancing quickly away. “Fine.”
“I mean. You flooded half the camp. So.”
“Just drop it, Nico. If you’re going to stay in here, be quiet.”
Nico bites back the automatic, scathing retort. Be quiet, Nicolò! Lalalalala! Don’t tell me what to do! Ugh! I hate having a little brother! Yeah, well, I hate you too!
A quick, cut-off choking sound cuts through his thoughts. He looks up, startled, to find Percy’s face red, to find him swiping angrily at his cheeks.
“Woah,” he murmurs, climbing hastily upright. He ignores the loud chanting in his brain telling him to leave, the discomfort swirling in his stomach at seeing someone cry, seeing another man cry, instead hovering awkwardly. Percy shrugs off the hand he touches hesitantly to his shoulder, and Nico holds it there, suspended, in between and outstretched.
“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
Nico hesitates. Of all people, he…nobody wants Nico around, when they’re —whatever Percy is. Upset. The only thing he can probably do is make it worse.
But what can he do? Leave him? Get Annabeth? Jason? None of it seems right. Instead he stands, frozen, hand still half-outstretched, eyes wide.
“You can —” He clears his throat. “Um. Did something happen?”
Percy shrugs. His eyes remain glued resolutely to his textbook, although the pages are wet and warped.
“Cause you can tell me, you know. I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything.”
Gods, he is so far out of his depth. Could Kampe come back and attack? That would be easier to deal with. Nico could handle that.
“I don’t —” the pages of the textbook crinkle under Percy’s grip — “it’s fucking stupid, is what it is.”
Hovering is not the right call. He knows that much. He scans the cabin, evaluating his options — sitting back on the floor feels like a bad plan. He doesn’t think any kind of touch would be welcomed, nor is he entirely comfortable in giving it. He doesn’t want to crowd. He doesn’t want to seem too distant.
Slowly, carefully gauging Percy’s reaction, he sits on the bed, across from him. He leaves the textbook between them, letting Percy keep pretending to read it, and tucks his legs up under his knees. He fiddles absentmindedly with his ring, chewing his lip every time Percy sniffles.
“Why’s it stupid?”
Percy shrugs again. Nico resists the urge to shake him. How does anyone deal with this shit? What the hell is he even supposed to do? He’s not Jason. He’s not Annabeth. Hell, he’s not Will, who seems to read emotions intuitively, who seems to know exactly what to do when someone is scared, when someone is upset. Even when someone is angry. He tries to imagine Will, in his position. Sitting across from a crying Percy Jackson, saviour of the world. Yesterday, one of the younger kids had tripped and scraped half the skin off their arm on the basketball court. Will had been there with a soft smile and gentle, glowing hands, speaking quietly and cracking small jokes until the kid was laughing again. Nico tries to imagine that here, soft words and lighthearted jokes. It doesn’t seem right. Would he — touch Percy’s wrist, like he did with Clarisse? Drag the fight right out of him?
Is Percy even angry? Nico has seen him angry before. Murderous. Fuming.
He’s never seen him cry.
Percy’s voice is like palms scraping hard over sharp gravel stones. “I made Annabeth cry this morning.”
The way he says it makes it hard for Nico to actually understand his words. His tone of voice is — volatile, is the best way he can describe it. Loathing. Based on the curling self-hatred dripping from the sentence Nico would assume he’d tried to kill her — he says I made her cry like he doesn’t deserve to live for it. Like he’s hoping to be punished.
“That happens,” Nico says. He swallows. “When you — love people.”
He and Bianca made each other cry a lot. He just never — stopped, never gave her half a second. Sometimes she looked at him and he knew she wanted to hit him. She never did. But he knew and she knew he knew and sometimes it would well up in her eyes, and she would lock herself in the bathroom of their room and turn on the sink and cry and cry and cry. And it ached something nasty in the cavity of his chest.
Percy sneers at his hands, flexing his fingers. “People who love you don’t make you cry. That’s just — hurting. That’s people who hurt everyone around them.”
Nico frowns. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” he says venomously. “I’m supposed to be — I’m supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to keep her safe, keep her from people who cause her pain.”
“People like you?”
Percy nods.
Nico drags his teeth over his bottom lip. He thinks of bleeding fingers clinging to a tiny shaft of rock, thinks of dangerous green eyes, hard voices; thinks of a thick web clinging to a broken ankle and an abyss. Thinks of promises and oaths and choosing. Thinks of falling. Thinks of letting go.
“People who want to harm Annabeth do not jump into the Pit for her.”
The pages of Percy’s textbook have started to dry. The ink has bled, dark splotches in perfect circles. The fountain bubbles gently behind them, mattress creaking under shifting legs.
“You don’t understand what I —” He pauses, swallowing. “Did, down there.”
“D’you hurt her?”
“…I scared her.”
“Oh, well — Christ, Percy! Is that really what this — brooding is about?” He scoffs. “No shit you scared her!”
“…What?”
Percy looks at him, wide-eyed. Nico rolls his eyes.
“Aw, when you were fighting for your life in the place meant to tear your essence into atoms, did you do things that make you question your personhood? Your morals?”
“I —”
“Of course you did, dumbass! Of course you —” he takes a breath, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts in his brain — “of course the physical manifestation of darkness and distortion made you act differently than you would usually, Percy. Of course it — affected you. Gods. Of course you’re struggling.” He flicks Percy’s knee, looking at him with exaggerated exasperation. “Use your brain, why don’t you.”
A small smile quirks the corners of Percy’s mouth, although it fades as quickly as it comes. He wipes his face with his sleeve, breath shuddering.
“She didn’t scare me, though.”
“Not even once?”
“Not in the same way,” Percy admits. “I was scared, once, when I looked at her. In the death mist. But that wasn’t — her, you know? She could never scare me.”
“I mean,” Nico wrinkles his nose, trying to articulate, “I think that’s kind of abnormal?”
Percy tilts his head.
“I just mean that you have a very high threshold, Percy. For…what you’ll tolerate from people you care about.”
“Everyone has that.”
“Not in the same way you do.” He taps his knuckles, considering. “Tell me the truth — if Annabeth stabbed someone to death in front of you, in total cold blood, would you help her hide the body?”
“Yes,” he says immediately. He shrinks, a little. “Oh.”
Nico rushes to assure, placing a fleeting touch on his wrist. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think. It’s just —” He shrugs. “I’m used to scaring people, too. I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what I — do, it’s not intentional.”
Percy opens his mouth, but Nico stumbles on.
“But you’re not — a monster, Percy, gods. No one thinks you’re a monster. Especially not Annabeth.”
Percy wiggles his finger under his watch strap, turning it tightly around his wrist, cutting off the circulation. Nico watches but doesn’t say anything.
“You’re not, either.”
Nico blinks. “Huh?”
“A monster,” he explains. “You’re not, either.”
“Oh.” Nico shrugs. “Thanks, I guess.”
“No, I mean it, dude, I — look. Listen.” Percy sighs. “You got baggage. I put some of it on you. I’m sorry.”
Hands around his — throat — angry, angry eyes — harder — bruising — you promised! you promised! you promised!
“It’s fine.” A pause. “I did shit to you, too.”
“It’s not fine. And I know you did. We can still —”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He sighs again, a long, defeated sound, and curls in on himself.
“One day you’ll forgive yourself,” Nico murmurs. “One day I’ll — me too, I guess. Me and you.”
Percy smiles tiredly. “And we’ll be okay?”
“No. You’ll still be annoying.”
He snorts. “Whatever. Drama queen.”
“Oh, I’m the drama queen, Mr. I Don’t Deserve To Be Loved.”
Percy snorts. He turns back to his textbook, fiddling with the dried page, and snorts again, trying to duck his head. Nico bites the corner of his mouth, hard. Percy glances up again, and Nico meets his eyes, and they —
Gods, they’re bad at this.
But suddenly Percy can’t choke back his laughter, and it’s wheezing and self-deprecating and still kind of teary and Nico is laughing, too, because thank the gods that shit is over. Percy’s red-cheeked and Nico is red-cheeked and neither of them are going to look at each other for a week, Nico’s sure, but for now he can roll his eyes at Percy’s melodrama and dodge his embarrassed shoving, and it’s fine.
“You should talk to Annabeth,” Nico suggests, when the giggling has toned down.
Percy picks at the torn-up skin around his nails. “Probably.”
“Are you going to?”
“Why were you lying on the floor?” Percy asks instead. It is the least subtle subject change of all time, but Nico takes it as the hint it is and drops the subject. It’s not his business, anyway. They’ll talk. He knows Annabeth better than to think she’ll let it fester, at least.
“Oh, you know. Crushing weight of being alive, mortifying ordeal of being known, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Oh my gods. I’m sorry I asked.”
“Well, serves you right then, you selfish bitch.”
Percy snorts. “What, I cry all over you and now it’s your turn to vent?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how it works. Transactional and eye-for-an-eye. Exactly as friendship should be.”
“You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Percy says, but he can’t tamp down his smile any more than he can stop his eyes from rolling, so there. Nico is exactly as funny as he thinks he is, thank you very much. A regular comedian.
Percy snaps textbook closed and sets it on the bedside table. “So.”
“So.”
Nico squirms. Suddenly he’s not sure why the hell he came in here in the first place. Are the floors in Cabin Thirteen really that bad? Surely not. Surely Floor Time didn’t have to be in Percy’s cabin.
(He blames Father for this. He’s horribly nosy. No doubt he’s passed his nosiness onto Nico, irregardless of his lack of DNA, and made Nico the way that he is. He can’t think of a single other reason he ducked into the cabin after lunch, when Percy still hadn’t shown his face.)
“Dude, come on. You came in here and whined and huffed and made a nuisance of yourself for literally forty minutes, and now that I’m giving you the attention you begged for you don’t want it? Nuh-uh. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill about,” Nico protests, “gods, can’t a man just complain in peace —”
“Ha! Not sure you can call yourself a ‘man’ if you’re voice is still cracking, squirt.”
“I literally hate you. Not joking.”
“Uh-huh. Okay.” Percy raises an eyebrow. “Well, since my guts are already spilled out and flopping all over the floor —”
“Disgusting.”
“—so it’s your turn, now.” He pokes Nico’s bicep. Nico bats him away, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor, scooting over to put more space between them. Thankfully, Percy doesn’t follow, and he exhales, settling his back against the bed frame. The mattress springs creak again as he readjusts. “You can tell me, you know.” Nico can hear the smile in his voice at the cheeky repitition. “I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything. Ahem.”
“You’re so annoying.” Nico picks at a loose thread in the knees of his pants, looping it around his finger.
Will thinks ripped jeans are stupid. He hadn’t said so outright, when Nico came back from his Aphrodite-Cabin-enforced shopping trip, but Nico had noticed his pursed lips and deliberately schooled face. When he’d pressed about it, pestering him until he’d given up with the very southern passive aggressive if you like, Nico, I love, don’t you worry about it answer, he’d gotten a forty minute rant about jeans that “sold less jean for more fuckin’ money” that made him laugh until he cried.
He yanks the thread and pulls. The hole widens.
“Oh my gods, you’re actually whipped. Is that what this is?”
Nico flushes. “Shut up.”
“It is!” Percy grins widely, wicked delight in his eyes. “You are literally thinking about him right now! You might as well be kicking your feet! You —”
“Shut up, Percy, gods.”
“I’ve never seen you so red,” he says instead, because he is incapable of following instructions. His smile fades, face softening into something more pensive. “You must really like him.”
Nico shrugs. Is that what he feels for Will? Gorgeous. I’ve been crushing on you forever. He likes a lot of people. You always know just what I need. A lot of people aren’t Will.
“He’s not scared of me.” No matter how much he fiddles with it, the metal of his ring is always cold. Cold hands, he supposes. He never heats up much. “Or. intimated. Creeped out. He thinks I’m —”
He clamps his mouth shut. A bubble of something expands in his chest, growing out of his lungs, past his shoulders, pushing his throat closed. He swallows, hard, trying to shove it back, but — Nico! Hey! You think I couldn’t stand to see a friendly face? No way, Death Boy, no more Underworld-y magic for you! I can literally feel you fading! My hands are still shaking — here, feel.
“Gorgeous?” The smile on Percy’s face is teasing, but much softer than before. “I heard he — said.”
Maybe it’s the redness of Percy’s nose that hasn’t quite faded, or his still-puffy eyes, but finally the bubble pops, and Nico sighs, tipping his head back until it rests on the edge of the bed. He closes his eyes. After a beat of hesitation, callused fingers brush through his hair, ruffling it, lingering awkwardly before pulling away. He smiles.
“Yes.”
“…Really? He just up and told you, that he had a —”
Percy stumbles on the words. Nico peeks one eye open and grinning wryly. “Yeah. He’s a hell of a lot braver than I am. Or maybe he’s just shameless.”
“He was always really intense about being your friend.” Percy screws up his face, tilting his head as if envisioning it. “I didn’t understand what that meant, at first. I didn’t get…the reason? Behind it? If that makes sense.”
“You forgot about gay people,” Nico says drily. “I know.”
“This is true,” Percy admits. He grins, sheepish. “That’s an L on my part. Every time me and Annabeth went looking for you he’d somehow know about it and ask us a bajillion questions when we got back. I just thought he was really into necromancy, or something, but now it’s like…damn.”
Nico covers his eyes with his hand, fighting back an embarrassed smile. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering. There is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you.
“You’d think it would be easier to get him to go out with me, then.”
“It hasn’t been?”
Nico throws his hands up. “No! He doesn’t — I got him flowers, Percy, and he ground them up to make a poultice. He thought the rock I got him was a bribe. I open every door for him and I always pull out a chair for him at counsellor meetings. I make sure to stand up first when we’re sitting together and offer him a hand. I don’t know what else I can — do, gods.” He makes a noise of frustration, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m being as obvious as I can be. What am I gonna have to do to get him to realise? Fuckin’ — tattoo his name on my forehead?”
Percy slides his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pen. He twists it around his fingers, fiddling with the cap, picking at the plastic casing. He uses the end of it to trace mindless swirls on his thigh, which Nico can’t help but feel is dangerous. One wrong move and he better hope Nico can drag him to the fountain fast enough to stabilize him. But his eyes are far away, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
“There is a chance,” he says slowly, “that he…knows.”
Nico frowns, turning to face him properly. He looks resolutely at his lap. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I — well.” He does finally uncap his blade, staring at the soft glow of the bronze, rubbing his thumbnail over the leather handle. “I. Knew,” he says haltingly. “That Annabeth liked me. I —”
Nico watches him carefully. This is…news, to him. He didn’t keep up much on camp drama about the two of them — for obvious reasons — but he hardly had to. Even during his brief, one or two day stops at Camp, Percy and Annabeth gossip was impossible to avoid. People talked about them constantly, about how much they obviously cared for each other, how oblivious, especially, Percy was. It used to give him a twisted sort of hope.
“You…knew? And you didn’t do anything?”
Percy winces. “She got frustrated with hiding it. She kissed me, once, before I blew up St. Helens. And I just —” He shrugs. “I couldn’t believe that someone like her would want anything to do with someone like me.”
It’s impossible to miss his meaning, to miss the self-directed bitterness at the end of his words. Nico recognises it because he practically invented it. Someone like me. Someone disgusting, ugly, unworthy. Someone bitter and twisted and wrong. Someone so undeserving.
“I think Will is like me,” Percy continues softly. “That — insecurity.” He says the word quickly, like he might be able to hide it in the rest of the sentence. “I think he thinks very highly of you. And I think it’s hard for him to believe that you want to — to lower yourself, to be with him.”
“That’s inane,” Nico argues. “He’s — bright and kind and smart and — he’s fucking everything, what is he —!”
“He grew up a healer in a camp full of warriors. Full of talented people,” Percy murmurs. “When you’re surrounded by people who know what they’re doing, it’s easy to feel like a loser.”
Nico opens his mouth, closing it again. On principle he doesn’t agree with Percy. It doesn’t make sense. Every single person at this camp has relied on Will in more than one way for as long as he’s been here — as long as he’s been healing them. How could he not know what his purpose is? How could he not realise his talents?
Ace bandage, sound and unwound. Hard blue eyes, self-directed sneer. I’m just a healer.
“He’s not a loser,” Nico says eventually. “I don’t think he’s a — loser.”
Nico thinks he’s quite a bit more than that, actually. In fact if all words in the any language he knows, ‘loser’ is probably the least apt to describe him.
“How do I make him realise? Make him —”
Percy shrugs. “Took Annabeth several years and I still think I’m — well. I still struggle. You’ll have to be patient.” He glances over, and that mischevious smile is back on his face, the one that promises trouble and guarantees Nico an excuse to kick him. “Or, you know, you could just tell him that you think he’s bright, and kind, and smart, and beautiful, and —”
Nico does indeed kick him. He falls back against his pillow, laughing, curled against his side.
“I did not — I did not say beautiful,” Nico says hotly, “that was not on the list, you total jackass —”
Percy only laughs harder, no matter how many times Nico kicks him.
———
next
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azrielwingspan · 4 months
Text
'HIGH' PRAISE (AZRIEL X READER)
I am on a roll damn. Another idea that I jotted down as quick as I could. Enjoy !!
Summary: Mirthroot and alcohol can work in your favour sometimes. You have a very interesting conversation with Azriel.
Warnings : Mention of substances, mild swearing. MDNI !
"You are a saviour Y/N." Mor said taking a hit from the mirthroot joint. The party was in full swing downstairs but you and Mor had found solace in her balcony.
"Don't thank me. Thank the male who was nice enough to give it up." you said taking your turn.
The lightness in your head was making you giddy and talkative. You could feel the slight tingle at your nerve ends, you body feeling detached from reality.
"He probably wanted to get into your pants."
"I know."
Mor let out a bark of laughter at that statement and leaned back against the wall. Her eyes had taken on a reddish tinge and you were sure that yours were probably worse. Your mouth felt numb and you smacked your lips cringing at the dryness of your mouth.
"I need something to drink. And eat. Chocolate cake sounds good. Chocolate cake with a side of yoghurt sounds even better. Add some good wine to it. What do you think?" your mind was moving too fast for your mouth to catch up to.
"It sounds terrible. Let's do it." You and Mor giggled clutching each others hands. That was some really strong mirthroot.
You made your way back to the party hyper focusing on every step being taken. Being high and face planting did not seem like a good combination. Your brain was a different entity, screaming at you to act normal. It was a party for fucks sake. Who acts normal anyways?
Grabbing Mor's hand , the both of you made your way over to the drinks table dodging your way through familiar faces. You refused to speak to anyone until you got your hands on the wine.
After chugging down half a bottle to quench your thirst, you noticed Azriel sitting with another male chatting about something.
"Mor."
"Yeah?"
"I think Azriel and I would make a fantastic couple."
The shattering of glass snapped you out of your hyper focused state for a beat.
It wasn't Mor.
Oh.
Back to hyper focused state.
"You would." she responded , a completely serious expression gracing her face.
"Should we tell him?" you asked, an illegal amount of bravery shooting through your veins. Not a single cell in your body thought this was a bad idea.
A new wave of idiocy hit you. The effects of the wine and mirthroot combined were doing wonders for your sanity right now.
"We should. Come on." This time, Mor was the one dragging you through the crowd, once again dodging everyone.
"Az!"
He turned to look at Mor, his own slightly glazed from the amount of alcohol he had consumed.
"Y/N thinks---"
The male that was speaking to Azriel stood up and interrupted Mor, asking for a dance. Immediately forgetting why she was there, Mor walked away with him leaving you with Azriel.
"What do you think?" Az asked, his voice husky. Ugh, it was doing strange things to you.
"I think---"
"Are you high?" Az asked, holding in his laugh.
"Az you idiot. You never ask someone who's high if they're high. Way to ruin it!"
"Okay my bad. Sorry. Come here."
He motioned to the space next to him on the couch.
"No. No. I have chocolate cake plans. I just wanted to let you know that I think...and Mor thinks as well...that we would make a fantastic couple. I mean look at you. Look at me. Stunners. Jaw droppingly good looking. What's stopping us?"
Az looked thoroughly amused as you continued defending your statement.
"Y/N." he said stopping you before you went off on a different tangent. "Come here." This time he motioned to his lap.
Yeah chocolate cake could wait.
You went over and sat down sideways on his lap, wrapping you arms around his shoulders while his hands found their place on your hips.
"Tomorrow, I want you to come to me and tell me the same thing. Then we'll see how well this fantastic couple thing works out yeah?"
He touched his forehead to yours , the affectionate gesture bringing a grin to your face.
"Okay."
"Good girl. Now come on let's get you some chocolate cake."
"Fantastic."
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tojjist · 3 months
Text
𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 ↳ r. sukuna
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in which: the king of curses left you the moment you announce your pregnancy to him. but after nearly losing you... he might be having a change of heart contains: very slight objectification of reader, reader is a half-curse, mentions of injury and near-death experience, reader is pregnant, slight mention of pregnancy sex, sukuna is really ooc tbh A/N: yall really wanted soft sukuna lmao. i js wanted to write something more in my own style instead of the tumblr style. It's all over the place really, also obv trueform! sukuna. w.c : 1.6k
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“Sukuna-sama?” Your voice comes out a breathy whisper, barely audible.
“Do– ugh,” The pink-haired curse sighs. “Don’t call me that. And don’t make me repeat myself.”
You haven’t known Sukuna to be tender. Actually, scratch that. You used to genuinely believe he mistook the adjective for an affront. He probably still does, despite the sheer softness of his actions. His mind is a marvel far beyond your, or anyone else's, comprehension. And if Sukuna hasn’t always been complicated, his sudden switch of behavior recently has rendered  unriddling the complex being that he is even harder.
“What do I call you then?” There’s confusion in your tone; confusion fused with unadulterated innocence. His eyebrows crease further. He loved how naive and ingénue you are. Such a simple, sheepish thing. Easy to lead one, easy to use, easy to hurt. But as of late, he’d come to hate it.
He hates that he hates it. He shouldn’t care.
“I don’t fucking know,” he snaps back. It’s enough to bring you silence, the somber tone he uses coming with a sense of finality. 
Rough callouses are surprisingly gentle against your flesh—callouses that slap, bruise, grope, but never caress. Despite that, he pulls your underwear up your thighs with utter care. If you didn’t know any better, you might even dare call his actions delicate.
“Does it hurt?” He reminisces. Curious digits stroke your lower abdomen and across the swell of your belly, where an ugly scar sits. It decorates your skin with a long, uneven line of dried blood cells.
“It’s not too bad,” You assure, daring to test your luck by bringing your own hand to his hair. It causes the king of curses to pause. His ember eyes continue to stare at your scar, unable to swat your hand away for some reason. The wooden floor beneath him feels too cold. Or he feels too hot. He’s unsure.
In the dimness of the room, there is no light but the flickering glow emitted from the fire, ensconced within a cage of brick—a fireplace, by name. Yet, the warmth that enfolds you does not excrete solely from the flames. It originates from within, a pulsating heat that comes with the beat of your heart as a large palm finds your shoulder, urging you forward with an urgency that seems to echo through the very fibers of your being.
“What about this one?”His intense glare persists, averting your demure gaze. Never before have you witnessed him in such a state, making you wonder whether this demeanor is a consequence of recent events.
“It’s fine, I promise,” Your whispered words cause his gaze to harden even further, his thumb tracing over another, deeper cut nestled in the valley between your breasts. This one could have been fatal. The realization sends a shiver down his spine, unsettling him to his core. Sukuna, the ancient and ruthless curse, has borne witness to countless horrors in his long existence, inflicted unspeakable cruelty upon countless souls, but none have shaken him to his core quite like seeing you teetering on the brink of death. The memory stirs within him an unfamiliar sense of disquiet, a realization that his desires may have consequences far more profound than he ever anticipated.
The brawny curse grunts in response, opting to continue examining the scar. He’s careful to not stretch it as your human flesh would hurt. 
Sukuna’s agenda never included leaving a child within you. It never even crossed his mind. Such muses were not to be entertained, especially not with you.
You. Yeah, you who doesn't try to kill humans simply for the pleasure it brings. You who takes life so lightly, as if you have several souls to spare. You who accepts every word Sukuna says as an indisputable fact, every order executed before he has a chance to reconsider.
You, who has shared your bed with the strongest curse more times than he cares to count, always intrigued him—an enigmatic subject for his manipulations. You, who confided in him the startling revelation that your half-cursed body now nurtures a growing fetus.
At first, Sukuna swore he'd never visit you again, adamant in his belief that he wanted no involvement in your pregnancy, leaving you to navigate the situation alone. Despite his capability to end your life without hesitation, he chose to spare you. Sukuna granted you a reprieve under the condition that he never crosses paths with you or whatever child you carry. He told himself time and time again that you would be a rather boring kill, not worth the effort. But it wasn't about the difficulty of ending your life—it was an excuse. He'd never admit that he doesn't want your blood staining his hands
Sukuna swears he’s not soft, that he doesn’t care for you at all.But the notion of being the one who brings you to your end does not enthrall him in the least.
He doesn’t care for the inferior likes of you, he reminds himself. That’s absurd. It’s laughable. It’s offensive, even. He doesn’t ‘care’, It’s simply curiosity that keeps him around. Curious of what kind of child the one you carry would come out to be. To see if they’d be worthy of being called his kin or not.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is dulcet, a melody that cuts his train of thought smoothly. Unlike anything he’s ever heard before. There’s a pleading tone, a need so urgent it's almost painful. He finds pleasure in that. Your perpetual longing for him, your unwavering loyalty even after his defeat by sorcerers the first time around—you kept him close like a devoted guardian to a fallen hero, even when you knew is anything but a hero. It's a power unlike any other—staying but not out of fear, it's a choice. A strong belief.
Balancing on his knees between her parted legs, he reaches out, his fingers finding purchase on the edge of the bed. His grip tightens instinctively, fingers slipping beneath the hem of the sheet as he steadies himself. With a controlled effort, he pushes upward, leveraging the bed for support as he rises to his feet
“Why do you ask questions you know the answer to?” He muses, his towering frame looking down at you. The flickering flames of the fire, their orange hues swirling and weaving a macabre tapestry around his countenance, lend him an aura of terror that would instill fear in any who behold him. Yet, unlike others, you find his presence strangely comforting. Despite the aura of terror he exudes, you've grown accustomed to it, finding solace in his formidable presence now more than ever before.
Your only reaction is to chew on the inside of your cheek, careful to not bite the fiber too hard. There’s an ambivalent air to him, remaining motionless as he towers over you. It seems as if he’s looking for something. Anything. He wants a reason to stay, but he can’t seem to find one satisfying enough.
He owes you nothing. But when you look at him like that… He’s never been one to falter at your pleading face, but perhaps he’s changing little by little. He staunchly refuses to acknowledge this change still, for him to do so would be an admission of vulnerability, a humiliation he cannot bear, even to himself. How he yearns for the willpower to end you, to push you away so you never obstruct his way like this again.
The worst part of it all is his acute awareness of why he feels so strongly now. He knows that it’s all him, and not at all you. He can pinpoint the exact moment he regret leaving your side. The memory is seared into his very core. 
He wishes he could forget, to erase the haunting image of you, wounded and bleeding, from his mind. 
It was when he came back a few days after his departure, for reasons he can’t recall, only to be greeted by the sight of a malevolent curse looming over you, hungry and poised to make you its next meal. He shouldn’t have intervened. It's the natural order—a relentless cycle where only the strongest survive, preying upon the weaker. He knows he's no exception. Nor are you.
But seeing you sprawled out on the floor, barely intact, with his child inside of you. 
He gulps at the memory, feeling an overwhelming urge to touch you once more, to make sure you’re not some figment of his imagination. To keep you from harm. You’re so stupid, so goddamn naive. He doesn’t know what to make of you. Other than a fucking headache.
“What is it? What do you want, brat?” He hopes to catch some semblance of his normal attitude. “Get it over with.”
“Please stay,” You plead, fingers gently gripping the open kimono he had thrown on once finished with you. “Please, Sukuna-sama.”
He sighs. You’re so obstinate.
Perhaps it's his lack of understanding that breeds hesitation within him, or perhaps it's his inherently fierce nature. A thing like you deserves to be treated with the utmost delicacy, cherished and nurtured. Sukuna, with his staunch commitment solely to his ideals, can never be the one assuming such a role for you.
“You’re doing things to me, you know?” Sukuna gets down, kneeling between your parted legs again, placing a warm palm in either side of your hips and seizing you within.
Maybe… staying with you tonight wasn’t such a ludicrous notion. He’s the king of curses; he  has all the time in the world to fret the trivial details.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months
Text
Ok, I have two alternatives, pick which one you like the best.
Reader get picked to tutor Eddie even though they have always been at each other's throat, she thinking he's a drama queen, pissed that the popular people doesn't like him and he thinks she's a stuck up bitch without humor.
So they go back and forth but maybe one day when she's having a bad day and Eddie says something and she starts crying he gets all "what, how, why? What did I do, please don't cry!"
Or, that he catches her reading a romance novel and outwardly she has always just read classics - books that are 'high education'
Request by @somethingvicked 🫶💞 went with the first option 💞
Warnings; Little bit of angst, meanish Eddie, fluff. Accidental kiss.
💌🎀💌🎀
"You've got to be kidding me?" you gawk at Miss O'Donnell who has called you back at the end of class. She's asked you to tutor someone and at first you were all for it.
That's until you found out it was Eddie Munson, Munson who is currently sitting at the back of the class with his feet up on the desk in front of him, he gives you a sarcastic little wave and you turn back to Miss O'Donnell and hope she comes to her senses.
"He needs a tutor if he wants to graduate. You're the best student in the class. It will look wonderful on your college applications that you tutored Mr Munson" shit there was really no getting out of this.
Reluctantly you turn to Eddie who already doesn't like you. In his honest opinion you seemed prissy and stuck up. The two of you spent half your time at each other's throats, it had been like that for so long.
Equally you couldn't stand Eddie either. He was loud, a show off and you were sure he was jealous of the popular people he claimed to hate.
How you would manage to tutor him for weeks on end was anyone's guess. One thing's for sure, you were dreading this.
"Meet me after school tomorrow and we can get started okay?" You say to him already grumpy at having to spend extra time with him. Eddie swings his legs off the desk and smirks, then bows.
"As you wish princess" ugh, you storm out but not before hearing Eddie's laughter.
Asshole.
🎀💌🎀💌
The first week of tutoring Eddie is as horrible as you expected. He's antagonistic, makes no effort and needles at your patience until it's paper thin.
"How can you be expected to graduate if you don't make an effort?" You snap as Eddie strums on his guitar.
"That old bat has it in for me, even when I try my best she still doesn't care" Eddie hisses back and you feel the beginnings of a headache come on.
"You just need to apply yourself better, if you want to graduate then you need to ace this Munson" he glares at you.
"Don't you think I know that? It's easy for you though isn't it princess, since your little miss perfect" the insult flares up your annoyance and you and Eddie devolve into your usual arguments.
"Don't you think I have better things to do then tutor you Munson? So do us both a favour and start paying attention, so we can go our separate ways sooner".
He huffs and places down his guitar with gentle care, grabs his notebook and
"Did you draw these?" you ask curious as you trace your fingers over the images on his notebook. He nods and looks at you like he's expecting you to give him shit.
"They are really good Munson, you could think about applying to an art course after graduation" Eddie scoffs and takes his notebook back.
"Yeah like anyone's going to take me with my grades" his tone is all annoyance and it pisses you off.
"I was only trying to compliment you, why do you have to be so touchy all the time" you look away from him stubbornly, he is silent for a few seconds and when he speaks again his voice is soft.
"I'm sorry, I'm not used to a lot of compliments from people" this softens you as well and you turn to face him and give him a small smile.
"Well you're really good" there's a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks when you say this. He nods and settles back down beside you.
"You know uh, you're pretty good with the whole writing thing, uh shit, you know what I mean" pleased and a little flustered at his compliment you clear your throat and mutter thank you, then get started with the book you and Eddie are reading for class.
🎀💌🎀💌
Today has been the worst day. You overslept, forgot to hand your essay in to your biology teacher, the rain soaked you completely as soon as you left your home and you've been verging on a cold ever since.
So the thought of having to tutor Munson again does not fill you with joy, in all honesty all you want is your bed and to sleep. You couldn't get sick, you had too much to do.
Of course from the moment you meet up with Eddie he's difficult. All because it's Friday and he has a Hellfire meeting.
"I have to set everything up princess, I don't have time to waste here with you" furious you round on him.
"You think that I want to be here? No. I'd rather be at home so sit down and let's get on with this so I don't have to sit with your annoying ass any longer than I have to"
"Well at least I'm not a stuck up bitch with no sense of humour and a permanent stick up my ass"
Eddie's words cut to the bone and you stiffen in response. Don't cry, don't cry you chant to yourself, but you can't help as the tears roll down your cheeks, Eddie's big brown eyes widen in shock as you begin to cry.
Humiliated, you're just about to leave when he steps in front of you. "Wait, what did I do?" The two of you exchanged insults on a daily basis and you had never cried before, Eddie begins to panic as your sobs continue.
"Please don't cry" he says, he hates seeing you cry. Your little whimper stabs at his aching heart and on instinct he reaches over to you and takes your hand, the gesture surprises you both and it dries up your tears.
"I'm sorry, I don't like seeing you cry, please stop" you sniff and wipe the remainder of the tears away, Eddie's hand is still holding yours and it's making you feel things that you never expected.
Eddie gently strokes your hand with his thumb, marvels at the soft skin and how your hand fits perfectly in his own.
Uh, shit. This was new. You smile at him, suddenly seeming shy. His heart skips a beat. Jesus h Christ.
"I didn't mean it" he stumbles over his words and you sigh sadly, peer at him with an expression that tugs at his heart.
"Yes you did" he shakes his head fervently and assured you that he didn't.
"I just snapped back without thinking, I'm sorry" he pleads with you and you hear the sincerity in his voice and calm down a bit.
"I'm sorry too. Today has been so shit, I'm tired and I feel like crap. I just want to sleep" Eddie immediately grabs his notebook and pencil and sits down, he looks to you patiently.
"Let's do half an hour and I'll cram as much as I can in my brain and then I'm going to drive you home okay?" relived you nod but still feel worried.
"Miss O'Donnell won't be happy" you tell him and he shrugs as if he doesn't care one bit.
"Leave the old dragon to me okay princess?" touched at his sweetness you take his hand and squeeze it as a thank you. Surprisingly the half hour passes by cordially and Eddie is still sweet.
Before you know it the half hour has ended and Eddie is true to his word and drives you home. You don't feel much better and your stomach is fluttering like crazy being so close to Eddie.
What the hell was happening? Was this some side effect of the flu? Eddie's big brown eyes meet yours, "Thanks for driving me home Eddie"
He shrugs like it's no big deal and on impulse you reach over to kiss his cheek. The only thing is he moves so you miss completely and end up pressing your lips against his.
His eyes widen and you pull away embarrassed, your heart is racing and your lips are tingling from the kiss. You stammer out an apology but Eddie waves it off, you race out the door and into your house.
All the while Eddie is touching his lips, his own heart is racing a mile a minute and all he can think about is that he really wants to kiss you again.
💌🎀💌🎀
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once-upon-an-imagine · 10 months
Text
Dear Prudence - Remus Lupin
A/N: well, again this keeps on working so… I hope you guys like it!
Request - Anonymous asked: Could I request a one-shot with hufflepuff potter!reader x Remus where James is favored by their parents for being in Gryffindor and on the quidditch team and being a golden child, and the reader is very kind and close to James but used to being ignored. Remus woos her and James is protective when he first finds out but comes around. Also short!reader please, I love Remus being a gentle giant
Warnings: James is favored by his parents over the reader, but they are not mean or anything, and I think that's it :)
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  
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Dear Prudence
Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful and so are you
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The first thing Remus noticed, were the letters.
“Hey, sunshine” Remus smiled when he spotted you as he entered the Great Hall.
“Hi moonshine” you smiled back at him.
“You know that’s not what you think it is, right?”
“Yes, it is. I am the sun and you are the moon” you insisted as he rolled his eyes a little.
“Whatever you say, love” he chuckled as the two of you reached the other three Marauders sitting at the Gryffindor table.
“Hey Jamie, I think our envelopes got mixed up” you said, walking over to your brother.
“Hey, bug” he smiled at you. “How do you know?” he asked, grabbing the envelope in front of him. “This one says my name” he said, confused as Remus sat down next to your brother.
“Yeah, this one also says James. F. Potter” you said, showing it to him. “But it feels a lot more pages than mine and it has those golden star stickers mum always puts on yours, Goldie” you smirked, mocking him and switching the letters.
“Oh, Goldie! I love that, I am calling you that from now on!” Sirius laughed.
“Shut up, Padfoot!” James said, hitting his arm as you opened the letter James had and saw your name inside.
“Yep, this one’s mine” you told him, taking out the single page.
“Would you like to sit down with us?” Remus offered, smiling brightly at you. So, of course, you couldn’t refuse.
“Why thank you, Remus, that is very kind of you” you said sitting between him and James, hitting your brother’s arm in the process.
“Hey! What did I do?” he asked, with his mouth half-full.
“That’s where you got that from?” Sirius asked, glaring at you a little as James opened his envelope and Remus caught at least four pages coming out of it. He didn’t want to obviously point that out, so he asked something different instead.
“How come both envelopes were addressed to James?” he asked, making you look up at him and you answered before James could.
“Mum writes to him so much, she made the envelopes, especially for him” you smirked, pinching his cheek and your brother quickly snapped your hand away.
“That’s not true!” he argued, with a hint of blush on his cheeks.
“Isn’t it? She writes to you at least twice a week” you mocked him. “I bet nobody else in the entire school comes close to how many letters you get” you told him.
“She writes to you too!”
“Yeah, every other week” you said, rolling your eyes and going back to your letter. “And even then she always asks about you” you said, showing it to him.
“That’s not true!”
“Wanna bet?”
“Fine! Five Galleons” James smirked proudly. You quickly went back to your letter, quickly spotting James’ name.
“Ah-ha! Here we are” you smirked back at him. “‘Make sure to take care of Jamie and give him a big kiss and hug for me’” you said, pointing the sentence at the bottom of your letter as James blushed furiously. “Aw, c’mere, Jamie, gimmie a kiss” you said, throwing your arms around his shoulders and peppering his cheek with kisses while the other three Marauders laughed.
“Ugh, get off me, you annoying bug!” he said pushing you away and making you crash into Remus, who quickly wrapped his arms around your waist so you wouldn’t fall.
“S-sorry, Rem” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as he helped you up.
“No problem, love” he smiled. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah” you chuckled.
“Well, you two are simply the sweetest thing in the world” you heard Sirius from across the table.
“Shut up, Sirius!”
“Shut up, Padfoot!”
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The second thing Remus noticed, were the family dinners.
During Christmas break, it was not surprising at all that the entire group of Marauders were residing at the Potters’ house. This year, Mrs. Potter had even got each of them a stocking, which he later found out had been your request, and Remus felt happier than he had in years. Since his mum passed away, he and his father never really liked celebrating Christmas anymore, so the feeling of this home made him warm inside and he loved it. And he especially loved spending more time with you, even if you were locked in your room most of the time.
“James, darling, where is your sister? Dinner is almost ready” he looked up from his book when Mrs. Potter came into the living room.
“Probably locked in her room” James shrugged.
“Well, could you go get her, please love?”
“Just a second, mum, I’m about to beat Padfoot” James smirked as they played Chess.
“I can go” Remus offered, marking the page on his book and getting up.
“Thank you so much, Remus. It is lovely to have actual help around here” she said, before messing James’ hair as he complained to his mother.
Remus chuckled and went upstairs to your room. He had realized this was probably the only room in your entire house he had never seen, aside from your parents’ room. He suddenly found himself feeling extremely curious to see how your room was. And why you insisted on spending so much time on it. He gently knocked on your door but he didn’t receive any response. It didn’t come as a surprise since he could hear the music blasting from the other side. He smiled when he recognized the song. It had become kind of your thing. He knew you loved muggle music and he loved introducing you to it.
Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together? In the kind of world where we belong?
His smile grew wider when he heard your voice on top of the original song and he tried to knock harder but still, no response. So, he carefully opened the door. Whatever Remus had in mind about your room (which he may or may not think about more than he would like to admit) he never pictured this. Your room was as big as James’ if not a bit bigger, but you had a lot more windows and a lot more colors, by far. James’ room was decorated with Gryffindor colors and Quidditch teams he loved. But yours? Yours had paintings everywhere. Every wall. Top to bottom. Even some parts of your ceiling. How did you ever get to paint that high? He may never know. You were currently painting the side of your window with colorful flowers. Peonies. Your favorite.
You know it's gonna make it that much better When we can say goodnight and stay together
Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up In the morning when the day is new? And after having spent the day together Hold each other close the whole night through
“Um, sunshine?”
“Remus° you turned to him, smiling brightly. Remus had never seen you so beautiful. You had possibly every single color in your pallet all over your face, your clothes, and your hands. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you” you said, walking over to your record player and making the song stop.
“Yeah, I figured as much” he chuckled. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, I get really bored of my walls every now and then, and I start all over again” you explained. “I was in a very flowery mood” you said, pointing at your latest painting.
“That’s beautiful” he told you. “Did you paint all of the rooms in your house?”
“Yes, except Jamie’s” you explained. “He said I’m just going to ruin his Quidditch posters” you said, rolling your eyes. “But I did the guest rooms” you said, smiling. “Yours was inspired by ‘The Little Prince’” you informed him.
“I could tell” he smiled. “My favorite book when I was a kid” he added.
“I remember you telling me that” you smiled back.
“Do you know that program on our last year for magical paintings? You should really apply for next year” he suggested.
“You really think so?” you smiled and he nodded. “I have… actually been thinking about it” you informed him.
“You should” he smiled.
“I might” you smirked.
“Um, your mum says dinner’s almost ready” he informed you.
“Oh, really? I must have lost track of time” you said, walking into your room to wash your hands.
“I’m glad you liked your Christmas present” he said, shyly, looking at the Beach Boys’ record that was playing not long ago.
“I love it” you said, coming back out. “Did you like yours?”
“I’m halfway done” he said, remembering the book he was just reading downstairs.
“Already?”
“I can’t put it down” he smiled as you got closer to him.
“I’m glad you liked it” you smiled, making him chuckle when he saw you still had paint on your face.
“Um, you still have some-” he said, pointing at his left cheek. “Here” he said, grabbing the towel from your hand and carefully cleaning it up.
“Thanks, moonshine” you smiled.
“Hey, Mrs. Potter said-” Sirius came bursting into your room, smirking at the scene in front of him. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, as the two of you jumped apart. You saw Remus’ cheeks blushing and you felt yours burning a little.
“N-no-”
“We were just- um- on our way” Remus quickly said, before he left the room. You nodded, grabbing one of your books, and were about to follow him, but Sirius blocked your way.
“You know, you should just tell him already, Bambi” he said. “We both know he’s too shy to make the first move, plus he thinks your brother is gonna kill him” he said.
“Mhm, or maybe, he just doesn’t feel the same way about me” you insisted. “And you promised you wouldn’t say anything!” you glared at him.
“I haven’t!” he said, offended. “And you have to be joking, right, have you really not seen the way he looks at you with his goofy smile, sunshine” he said, mocking Remus’ voice and making you punch him in his arm. “Ouch! Would you stop that?”
“It’s not my fault. You moved here and decided to become my other annoying brother, so you have to pay the consequences” you smirked before you left your room and Sirius rolled his eyes, following you.
“Why did you bring your book?” Remus asked, confused when you sat down next to him and placed your book on the table.
“Well, it kinda gets boring when the conversation turns to Quidditch” you informed him.
He frowned a little confused, but quickly understood what you meant. Throughout the entire dinner, your parents had revolved the entire conversation about James. They first asked how school was, to which all of you replied, he and the rest of the Marauders included. Followed by if you were dating someone. And then, Quidditch. Remus realized you hadn’t even spoken for about forty-five minutes. Your parents even asked Sirius, Peter, and him some questions, but not you. He turned to look at you and saw you immersed in your book. He slowly smiled and then felt a kick in his leg. He turned to glare at Sirius sitting in front of him who was smirking and nodded his head towards you.
“What’s your book about?” he asked. It took you a moment to register that someone was actually talking to you before you lifted your head and turned to look at Remus.
“Oh, um-” you smiled shyly. “It’s a romance novel, I wouldn’t want to bore you” you chuckled.
“You wouldn’t bore me, sunshine” he insisted. When you smiled brightly at him, it gave him the courage to hold your hand in his underneath the table as you started talking about the plot of the book you were reading. He absolutely loved the way your face brightened when you talked about something you liked and that you had his full attention. He could not deny it any longer, he was definitely in love with you.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The third thing Remus noticed, was the birthday presents.
“Hi Rem” you smiled, opening your dorm. “What are you doing here?”
“Me? What are you doing here? You left your own birthday party” he chuckled.
“Well, you know I don’t like parties” you chuckled. “James makes a whole fuss about our birthdays but it’s mostly for him” you insisted. “I bet nobody even noticed I left” you said.
“I did” he said, making your cheeks burn a little.
“Um… would you like to come in?” you asked, opening the door. “I’m watching an old movie that Alice lent me” you smiled. “I got pastries from the Kitchens” you said, making him smile.
“How could I say no to that?” he asked, following you inside. “I also wanted to give you your present” he said, making you look back at him.
“You got me a present? Remus, you didn’t have to get me anything” you smiled.
“Yes, I did. It’s your birthday” he said, as if it was obvious. “I’m sure you got so many presents already, but one more couldn’t hurt” he said, shyly.
“Not much” you shrugged. “Jamie gave me my badger slippers” you said, showing them to him. “And I gave him lion ones” you giggled. “Sirius gave me chocolate, oh, Alice gave me new paints” you said, pointing at them excitedly. “And Lily gave me a new perfume” you smiled.
“Oh” he frowned, confused. “What about your parents?”
“Oh, my dad sent me this book” you said, showing him a familiar book, he knew you had already talked with him about. “I mentioned to him it was my favorite so he got me one” you explained. “I don’t really have it in my heart to tell him I already have it” you chuckled.
“And your mom?” he asked, extremely confused. He counted at least twenty presents for James from your parents.
“My mum usually gives me some of her jewelry she knows I love, but she doesn’t like to send it through mail so she gives it to me when I come home for the summer” you explained.
“Oh… is… that it?” he asked, without really thinking.
“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.
“Nothing. Sorry, I didn’t mean anything I just- um- I don’t want to cross a line or anything it’s just-”
“Let me guess, Jamie got about thirty presents from my parents” you smiled sadly.
“Yeah” he said, awkwardly. “Look, you know I love your parents. They are some of the kindest people I’ve met, and I know I don’t have any siblings but… I just don’t think it’s fair that they favor James over you” he said, sadly.
“Look, it’s fine. I know my parents love me” you smiled. “Just… probably not as much as James” you chuckled. “I’ve actually learned it’s not the worst thing. I get zero pressure from them. Last year, I was really worried because I didn’t do well on one of my Herbology tests-”
“Because everything you touch dies?” Remus smirked, earning a glare from you.
“As I was saying… I was going to tell them when we came home for the Holidays, but they were so upset that James had lost the last Quidditch match, that they didn’t even say anything to me” you shrugged. “I can literally do anything I want whenever I want and they won’t really mind. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can even date whomever I want but the day James gets a serious girlfriend, my mum may actually die” you told Remus, making him laugh a little. “It used to bother me a lot, but… they do show me that they love me in different ways” you explained. “But I think it’s really sweet you care about that” you smiled at him.
“Well, of course I do. You’re my favorite person in the world” he blurted out.
“I am?” you asked, feeling your heart flutter.
“Of course you are” he smiled.
“I think… you’re the first person in my life that has liked me more than James” you said, feeling a few tears in your eyes. “Sorry, that’s stupid-”
“It’s not” he assured you, pulling you closer and wiping away your tears. “And I really mean it” he smiled. “Happy birthday, sunshine” he said, giving you his present.
“Moonshine” you smiled, opening it. “Remus” you said, feeling your eyes welling up. “Is this-?”
“Yes” he smiled, grabbing The Beatles’ record from you and putting it on your record player. “I know this is your favorite song and it’s also mine because it reminds me of you” he said as the guitar started playing. “Would you like to dance with me?”
“Really?” you asked, excitedly.
“Only because it’s your birthday” he said as you grabbed his hand and walked to the middle of your dorm.
Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blueIt's beautiful, and so are you Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?
“Why does this song remind you of me?” you asked curiously.
“Well, I read that the song was written about Prudence Farrow-”
“Who is Mia Farrow’s less famous little sister? Wow, Remus-”
“No, that’s not why” he glared a little at you. “I mean she is but, that’s not why” he insisted.
“So?”
Dear Prudence, open up your eyes Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies The wind is low, the birds will sing That you are part of everything Dear Prudence, won't you open up your eyes?
“Did you apply to the art program” he asked, making you smile at him.
“You remembered that?”
“Of course, I do” he frowned. “I remember everything you tell me” he insisted.
“Well… I did” you told him. “I should be hearing about it during summer” you informed him.
“I’m sure you’ll get in, sunshine” he said, kissing your forehead.
Look around, around (round, round, round) Look around, around, around (round, round) Look around
“Well, it was written because she would rarely come out of her bungalow while she meditated. It’s kind of like you and your paintings” he smiled.
“I’m not that bad” you scoffed offended.
“Love, I had to come up three times a day every day on Christmas break so you wouldn’t forget to eat” he reminded you.
“Oh, and here I was thinking you came to get me because you missed me” you pouted.
“That too” he assured you.
Dear Prudence, let me see you smile Dear Prudence, like a little child The clouds will be a daisy chain So let me see you smile again Dear Prudence, won't you let me see you smile?
“I really love this song” you smiled. “And my birthday gift” you added. “And um-” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked away. “C-can I tell you something?” you asked, nervously.
“You can tell me anything, love” he assured you.
“O-okay, you don’t have to say anything and… if it’s weird you can just leave and not talk to me ever again, and… it’s not just because you said you liked me more than James b-but it’s been something that I have felt for a while and I just-”
“Sunshine” he said, cupping your cheek and making you stop your ramble. “I love you too” he smiled, making your entire body feel like you were on cloud nine.
“Y-you do?” you asked, still not believing him.
“I really do” he said, leaning in to kiss you.
Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful, and so are you Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
“Yeah, go get settled, Moony! We’ll wait for you outside” James said as Remus walked upstairs to put his things away. After tossing everything in there really, he quickly found himself in front of your door again. James had invited him to stay over the summer and it had been two weeks without you. Two weeks too long. He smiled as the music blasted on the other side of the door, only this time, he opened it and walked in.
My, my, I tried to hold you back, But you were stronger Oh, yeah, and now it seems My only chance is giving up the fight
And how could I ever refuse? I feel like I win when I lose
Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war Waterloo, promise to love you for ever more Waterloo, couldn't escape if I wanted to Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you
Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Waterloo Finally facing my Waterloo
Remus smiled to himself before he walked over to you, pulling your paintbrush away from your hand and making you turn around frowning, but you quickly smiled when you saw it was him.
“Moonshine!” you smiled, throwing your arms around his shoulders and he quickly wrapped his around your waist, twirling you around and planting a big kiss on your lips.
“Hey, sunshine” he smiled when you pulled away. “I missed you” he said, giving you another peck on the lips.
“I missed you too” you smiled, pulling him closer. “How has your summer been?”
“Pretty boring, to be honest” he chuckled. “I see you kept yourself busy” he said, twirling your paintbrush in his hand. “Prongs and Padfoot said you played Quidditch with them yesterday” he chuckled.
“Yeah, they made me” you rolled your eyes.
“Have you… told your brother about us?”
“No” you pouted. “You said we would tell him together” you reminded him. “You know it’s gonna be fine, right?”
“Yeah, I know. Sirius just keeps insisting he will kill me” he laughed nervously.
“I won’t let that happen” you said, kissing his cheek. “I promise” you smiled sweetly.
“So, what are you painting?”
“Oh! I’ve been waiting to tell you” you said, excitedly. “I got into the art program!”
“You did? Love, that’s amazing! I knew you could do it!” he said, hugging you again and giving you a small kiss. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks, Remmy” you smiled. “You’re the first person I’ve told” you smiled.
“I am? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Oh, well, I actually told my parents when we got here, but James won the Quidditch Cup and there are… about ten Quidditch teams wanting to recruit him so… I don’t think they heard me or even knew what I was talking about” you said, smiling sadly. “Sirius said it sounded cool, though” you told him.
“I’m sorry, love” he said, pulling you closer.
“It’s okay. You’re the one I really wanted to tell” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again. “And, I have to finish this painting” you said, trying to get the brush from him but he put it out of his reach. “Rem!”
“I just got here, love” he pouted. “Wouldn’t you rather spend the day with your boyfriend who missed you so much?”
“Well, yes, that’s why I wanted to finish it before you got here” you insisted. “But James and Sirius kept insisting that I played Quidditch with them yesterday and I didn’t get to paint” you told him but he still placed the brush out of your reach when you tried to grab it. “Remus!”
“Well, you can continue tomorrow” he said, pulling you to him. “I have been waiting for two whole weeks to kiss my beautiful girlfriend” he said between kisses, feeling your smile against his lips.
“Okay, I can continue tomorrow” you said, as he threw the brush on your table and deepened the kiss. “I missed you so much” you said, pulling him closer.
“I missed you too, love” he smiled.
"Hey bug, have you seen Moony-? BLOODY HELL! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" James yelled coming inside your room and covering his eyes at the scene in front of him. Remus instantly jumped off you so quickly he fell to the floor as Sirius came in running behind James when they heard the yelling.
"Why are you yell-? oh bloody hell!" he smirked when he saw Remus standing up and saw that both of seemed very nervous.
"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" James yelled to Remus and started running after him with his wand pointing at his neck but you stepped in between.
"Jamie, stop!"
"Get out of the way bug!" your brother’s voice was dangerously low.
"Prongs, calm down" Remus said trying not to show how nervous he really was.
"Calm down?!" James snapped. "That's MY sister!"
"Jamie, please, calm down!" you said also a little nervous.
"YOU SHUT UP!"
"Don't yell at her!" Remus snapped.
"Mate, I would shut up if I were you" Sirius told him.
"ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP!" you yelled at all of them.
“I’m going to kill you!” James yelled at Remus before he started chasing him around your room. Remus quickly ran out with James following him.
“I told you, he would find out sooner or later” Sirius smirked.
“You are of no use to me right now, SIrius!” you said, punching his arm as you followed your brother and your boyfriend. Sirius quickly walking behind you.
“James, what is going on? What’s with all the yelling?” you saw your mother and father come inside the living room where James was still chasing Remus and throwing jinxes at him.
“Stop it!” you yelled running over to your brother and grabbing his arm.
“Get off me!” he complained as Remus ran over to Sirius, hiding behind him.
“You’re being ridiculous!” you said, trying to reach for his wand but he placed it out of your reach. However, you clung yourself to him, trying your best to get it.
“What in Merlin’s name are you two kids doing?” your father asked, confused. It was rare to see the two of you fight like this nowadays.
“Let go!” he said, as your hand reached for his wand.
“You let go!” you complained.
“It’s my wand!”
“Gimmie it!”
“Alright, stop it! Both of you!” your mother’s voice was heard through the room as she pointed her wand at the two of you, separating you, and making James’ wand fly into her hand.
“He started it!”
“She started it!”
“I don’t care who started it! I want to know what’s going on and I want to know now!” your mother said, with her hands on her waist.
“Why don’t you ask your daughter how she betrayed me!” James said, glaring at you.
“Oh, please! Grow up, James! You’re being ridiculous!”
“That’s enough!” your father intervened. “Your mother asked you a question. What is wrong with the two of you?”
“She stole my best friend!” James said, pointing at you accusingly.
“What? I did no such thing!”
“And I thought I was your best friend” Sirius added, offended while Remus rolled his eyes.
“James, sweetheart what are you talking about?” your mother asked, confused.
“Well, mum, I just found your daughter, my so-called sister” he said glaring at you as you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Kissing my best friend!”
“James!”
“Excuse me?” your father said, a bit upset, throwing daggers at the two boys behind your mother.
“Fleamont, darling, calm down” she said, to her husband before turning to you. “Sweetheart, would you care to explain yourself?” your mother asked you, calmly.
“First of all, Jamie is making it a bigger deal than it is” you complained.
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are!”
“Were you or were you not just kissing Moony upstairs?”
“What?” your father asked again, but your mother stopped him.
“Well?” James asked, arching his eyebrow at you.
“I… was… kissing… my… boyfriend” you said, feeling your cheeks burning.
“Excuse me?” your father asked, baffled.
“Boyfriend?” James asked.
“Remus is your boyfriend?” your mother asked, excitedly.
“You can’t have a boyfriend! You’re too young!” your dad complained.
“And it can’t be my best friend!” James added.
“Hurtful, Prongs. Really hurtful” Sirius glared at him.
“Oh, hush, all of you” your mother said, rolling her eyes. “Fleamont, you and I were their age when we started dating” she reminded your father. “And James, you should be happy that your sister is with one of your best friends. Remus is a wonderful guy” she smiled at Remus who felt just a little less nervous.
“Thanks, Mrs. Potter” he said, blushing a little.
“I’m so happy for you two. Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us?” she asked you.
“Well, I didn’t really know how to because I knew James would throw a fit about it” you said, rolling your eyes.
“I did not throw a fit-”
“James, that’s enough” your mother told him. “Leave your sister alone” she scowled.
“But mum-”
“But nothing. She’s happy and so is Remus and we are all happy for them and that’s it” she insisted.
“I don’t even get a say in it?”
“No, why would you get a say in your sister’s love life?”
“At least she has a love life” Sirius laughed.
“Hey!” James complained.
“Good one, son” your dad laughed with Sirius.
“What is happening?” James asked, upset before he started going upstairs. “I do not like this one bit!” you heard before he slammed his door.
“Don’t listen to him, sweet pea” your dad said, smiling kindly at you. “We are happy for you” he admitted, kissing your head. “But Remus is not allowed in your room and you are not allowed in his, or the two of you alone in a room, understood?” he frowned.
“Yes, dad” you smiled.
“Yes, sir” Remus replied at the same time.
“Good” he smirked proudly.
“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart” your mother said, hugging you.
“Thanks, mum” you smiled.
“You too, Remus” she said, kissing his cheek.
“Thank you, Mrs. Potter” he smiled before she left with your dad.
“I’d like to say that went well” Sirius smirked as you sat with Remus on the sofa and he kissed your forehead while Sirius sat on the chair.
“To be honest, that’s the best I could have asked for” Remus chuckled.
“It felt weird to have so much attention on me” you admitted as Remus kissed your cheek.
“Alright” you heard James’ voice coming down the stairs again. “I have decided that I approve this” he said in a serious tone, sitting closer to Sirius.
“You do know we don’t need your approval, right?” you said, glaring a little at him.
“But there will be no kissing in front of me” he glared at the two of you. “That’s just gross!”
“Fair enough, Prongs” Remus chuckled, kissing the side of your head.
“I just want to say that I am still hurt about your comments made earlier” Sirius said, sounding offended.
“You knew about them the entire time, didn’t you?” James glared at him.
“And I forgive you because that’s what best friends do, Prongsie” he smiled innocently.
“Fine, I forgive you too” James said, rolling his eyes as Sirius hugged him, kissing his cheek. “Get off, you goof!”
“This is going to be a long summer, isn’t it?” Remus asked you.
“Yes, I am so happy you’re here” you smiled, giving him a peck on the lips.
“Hey! What did I just say!?”
“Shut up, Jamie!”
The End
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Songs: Wouldn't It Be Nice - The Beach Boys Dear Prudence - The Beatles Waterloo - ABBA
A/N: I hope you loves like it! :)
2K notes · View notes
uplatterme · 1 year
Text
all out?
—sub!scara/dom!reader, amab!reader | office sex, exhibitionism
—not beta read so excuse some mistakes if there are any TT
honestly, scaramouche should have seen this coming.
he stares at his empty cabinet, dumbfounded that there’s nothing inside it. surely not…
the balladeer wants to scream. just his luck, that it happened today too, when there’s a meeting scheduled that he cannot skip.
“fuck.”
the harbinger walks through the chilling halls of the zapolyarny palace. the cold has never bothered him in any shape or form, yet today proves to be an exception.
there are lower-ranked fatui passing by, hastily running off, not wanting to meet his gaze. an action that he isn’t unfamiliar to.
he hisses and stops when a certain ginger blemishes his view.
“looks like someone’s having a bad day!” he greets.
for a moment there, scaramouche thinks that he’s caught red-handed. not until he realizes that the youngest harbinger couldn’t have possibly seen through his facade.
“you’re deafeningly loud.” he bites back, continuing his steps despite the aching in his lower half.
“ah, still the same as ever. not that im surprised.” he says, chuckling echoing through the halls.
“the meeting’s to start in a few, although the director and the overseer hasn’t arrived yet.” tartaglia informs.
he flushes at the mention of your title, the one behind this problem that he’s facing right now.
“hello?” he calls out.
“can you learn to shut up just at least once?!” he yells.
currently, he sits on the chair provided for him, next to pulcinella and sandrone. as long as he doesn’t get seated next to that blue-haired freak, he considers any situation to be pleasant.
the door opens with a slam and the rest of the harbingers bow their head as greeting. there you stand, that folder you always carry in your arms and a pen between your fingers.
that’s when the memories comes back to him.
flashes of each time you’ve ripped his underwear with those fingers of yours, the scene claws into his brain as he bows down his head in unison with the others.
it was fine the first time. it was only a one-time thing, after all.
oh, how naive he was thinking that.
he then realizes that it wasn’t a one-time thing, seeing as there’s none of them left in his cabinet, forced to attend this meeting with his cock slapping against his thigh each time he walks.
it’s embarrassing. he seethes at your voice, talking about some topic that he couldn’t give a shit about. he adores when your tone is like that, commanding and strict. the more you speak, the more the harbinger wants to cave in.
his cock presses hardly to his shorts, begging for any kind of attention. unfortunately, he’s forced to endure it. to sit there in agony while he stares at you, giving out orders.
oh, how he wishes that you bend him against the table right now.
he can see it visibly twitch from underneath his clothing. if you were to see this, what would you have done? scaramouche’s imagination runs wild, thinking of how you’d make him take your cock. overusing his body and milking him dry. a doll, whose only purpose is to serve you.
“balladeer?” he snaps back to reality, hearing you mention him.
he bites back a needy whine, feeling everyone’s attention now centered on him.
“yeah?” he spit out, his eyes meeting with yours.
“you’ll be sent off to a separate mission, is that all right with you?”
god, you could ask him to do anything and he’d agree.
“sure.”
when the meeting ends, his body was moving on its own, moving towards you to grab you and pinning you to the wall.
“you! you better take care of this!” he shouts.
you were confused at first but it didn’t take you long to see his cock fully outlined through his tight shorts.
“why should i? you’re the one who decided to attend this meeting like that.”
he groans. he does not have the time for any of your teasing right now.
“you kept tearing through—just, ugh!
fuck me already!”
his voice echoes throughout the room. he would have never expected this kind of situation to happen but he needed you so badly. he’s been hot and bothered ever since this morning.
he lets out a relieved groan once he feels his abdomen pressing on the table.
then, next comes the sound of his shorts being ripped apart. he would have complained about your tendency to tear through his clothes but all the complaints in his head goes away once he feels your fingers digging inside of him.
“hnngghh—fuck, finally. only thing you’re fucking good for—oh god!”
“shit, shit, shit!”
his face presses up on his hands, far too drunk as drool goes down his chin. he’s loving each movement inside of him, the satisfaction and pleasure you give are intoxicating him and he wants more.
his body squirms, his feet constantly misplacing themselves on the floor. his dick leaking precum as you stroke it at a pace, leaving him panting and breathing like a dog who had just gone for a run.
“look at you, all loose already…your body’s just made for fucking, isn’t it? always wanting to prove something when you can just show everybody how much of a cumdump you are.”
scara grunts at your insult (praise?), wanting to spit back something to defend himself. but his body is then shifted around, his back laying on the cold table as you took no time in penetrating his hole.
his mouth is left wide open by the stretch. it burns but god, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the pain. the pain that would soon then transition into pleasure by each. single. thrust.
pounding into him mercilessly, his mouth being covered by his own mouth to desperately hide his cries from enjoying it too much, smiling underneath.
eventually, he just decides to let go. his hands reaching up to fondle his own chest, playing with his nipples while you shape him into your own cocksleeve, his leg up as you wanted better access into fucking him as much as you can.
scara’s so damn loud. of course, he doesn’t notice it. nor does he notice a certain redhead blushing needing to do a double take to see if he’s seeing the right thing.
“f-fill me up! fuck, please!”
“haaah—! more, more!”
after a while, those sentences are no longer coherent as he’s turned to just moaning and whimpering, slurring his words that you can barely understand.
the table is a cum-filled mess, his dick spurting out white as his eyes roll back the furthest they can into his head.
and yet, he doesn’t stop.
even better, he’s started to match your rhythm and grind himself onto you.
there’s a bit of a swelling in his belly from your cum and yet that isn’t seen as a blockade.
each thrust, your cum slipping out of him and back into him and the warm feeling of your stickiness is just enough to send him over the edge.
in the end, he’s left with a satisfied smile. laughing and chuckling while struggling to breathe, his walls aching and not sure if he wants more or to just stop moving for as long as he can.
one thing’s for sure though,
he’s completely forgotten that his shorts are torn apart.
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targaryenluvs · 7 months
Note
Hi, how are you? Could you make a request for Anthony Bridgerton 🙈 please.
I was thinking something along the lines of Penelope and Colin. When Colin says he would never court Penelope. But in this case Anthony tells Benedict that he would never court reader. And Benedict tells him that he will be the one to woo her. Sad ending or happy ending. I leave it in your hands 🤗✨.
Have a good week ✨ thank you.
i love this, and benedict bridgerton <3
nothing better
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader, anthony bridgerton x fem!reader (platonic)
summary: benedict has loved you for so long, but he always assumed you’d want anthony and he wanted you. but when the opportunity presents itself to be with you he dives headfirst.
warnings: swearing, kisses??
a/n: hope you like itttt, it might be a little short but quality over quantity???: i love benedict ugh can’t wait for his season
the party was insufferable.
benedict wanted nothing more than to be at home, drawing, you specifically.
the day you learned of his talent you’d praised him every day for it. and you’d been pestering him for oh so long to draw your portrait but he always politely declined. believing a professional to be more accurate than himself but he honestly believed that he, nor any other, could incorporate all of your beauty in one sketch.
and he was scared of messing it up, and he also wondered what his brother would think.
anthony. smart, handsome, eligible, viscount anthony bridgerton.
the one you’d marry.
or so it seemed to everyone as the two of you danced hand in hand. everyone’s eyes were on the two of you as you practically glided across the floor. as the music slowed and the couples dispersed he found himself holding his breath as you came towards him.
“anthony is terrible to dance with, he keeps blaming me for stepping on his feet but he moves so slow at times, he’s always looking off into the distance.” you laughed as benedict smiled, “i promise you y/n, a dance with me will leave you more than well satisfied.” benedict teased as you gasped, “benedict bridgerton! the scandalous man you are.” as you laughed he couldn’t help but admire you. your hair was up with only two strands in the front, curled. a sweet tiara in the middle of your head, a gorgeous baby pink dress and and equally gorgeous owner.
“you look-”
“like a cake? a biscuit? a rose perhaps?” you joked.
“i was going to say breathtaking. you look, breathtaking, y/n. no one else here can compare.” he spoke in awe.
your eyes flickered to his, god he looked amazing. but he was probably only saying this to be nice right? his sisters friend, daphnes other half. nothing more, he grew up with you, saw you as a sister.
he wondered if you’d return the compliment, or thank him, or just smile and nod. god he said wanted more than a nod. you looked untouchable. and the way you looked at him, benedict was lost. not only in your eyes but in his head and heart. he sees you dance and talk to numerous respectable men every day. you smile and laugh, completely polite. but then you look at him, with those beautiful brown eyes and he looses all trains of thought. and as respectful as those other men are, he could never put himself in the same category as them.
because the thoughts that he didn’t loose, were truly inappropriate.
the heavy footsteps from behind you snapped the two of you out of the trance as anthony approached. “brother, lady y/n.” he smiled as you smiled back. “i’ll leave you two be.”
“are you alright brother?”
he didn’t mean to snap. the words just spilled out.
“are you going to court her or not?”
anthony’s brows furrowed as he was taken aback by his brothers direct manner, all sense of the usual playfulness was lost. “who? y/n? no of course not. i would never dream of courting y/n l/n. she’s like a sister to me.”
“then why do you dance with her so? take her out so often, promenade with her? for what? my god everyone thinks the two you are courting.” anthony released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
he’d only been having fun with a friend. it was so refreshing to be able to talk to someone who didn’t wonder what the viscount was up to, who he was with, when he was going to marry. y/n eased his tensions and she the best friend he’d never had, she made him feel like a young boy again, which anthony had all but forgotten the feeling of.
“benedict, it was not my intention this i promise you brother. i know how much you love and if i led you or anyone else to believe our relationship was anything besides familial love and companionship than i truly apologise. you need to let her know before it’s too late.”
benedict felt his heart lurch at the idea of finally being with you. and with anthony’s blessing and urging him along he was off to find you.
the air was cold, but anything was better than that stuffy ballroom inside. gods you couldn’t wait for the season to be over. it was only your first, same as the diamond of the season, also known as your best friend daphne bridgerton but all the cakes, gossip, drama and fake smiles? you’d had enough to last forever. the only problem with the season being over was that you’d most likely be travelling to your country estate. which meant that you’d be spending time with your extended family rather than the family besides your own that you wanted to be with.
the person you wanted to be with.
“y/n! there you are.” benedict shouted as he bent over, catching his breath. even slightly sweaty and disheveled benedict was a god in your eyes, no one inside could even come close.
“ben, come sit!” you patted the swing next to you as he gladly sat down, the air was a refreshing after the long night he’d had, and your smiling face was enough for his heart to race again.
“y/n, as much as i’d like to sit and swing with you i have to tell you something, it’s urgent.” he spoke softly. the moon was bright, the air cold and benedict had a soft glow of light on his right side. his voice could so easily lull you to sleep out here as it had done so many times before but his eyes were alert, so you smiled again and nodded, “continue.”
“y/n, i’ve known you for so long. and i’ve- i’ve never been able to tell you how i truly feel about you. i always thought anthony had your eye and”
“anthony?!” you screeched as benedict hushed you with a hand over your mouth. “sweetheart you can’t be so loud out here, wouldn’t want someone to come across us now would we?” he joked as his eyes crinkled at the edges, now there’s the benedict you knew. “ben, i’ve never had romantic feelings for anthony, hes always been a brother to me. besides i’ve had my eye on another bridgerton for a long time.”
“oh? and who could that be?” benedict was praying to every god he could conjure in his head. me. me. me. let it be me please.
“you.”
he couldn’t help himself as he kissed you, he’d waited far too long for it.
and it was so worth it.
everything he couldn’t even begin to express with words, he put into the kiss, your first of many. “i love you. i love you y/n l/n and i can only pray you love me a quarter as much. you are everything i’ve ever wanted, and i have you now. you were family before but now? youre officially a bridgerton, we should throw a parade.” benedict laughed as you smacked his arm, “finally! my plan to marry daphne has been thrown into motion!”
“excuse me?” daphne shouted as yourself and benedict leaned into eachother, laughing up a storm.
there was nothing that could compare to the man infront of you.
nothing better.
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