#(YOU WERE NOT OWED THIS YOU WERE *NOT* OWED THIS *YOU!!! WERE!!! NOT!!! EVER!!! *OWED* THIS {JUST Saying})

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 5,115

Warning: cursing, apologies, fingering, handjobs, smut 🥹, fluff

A/N: Well everyone, we have one more part of this series. 🥲 But I plan on taking requests for our sweet, complicated couple! !! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

“You want what?” Satoru stared blankly at you, blinking ever so slowly like a cat. Your words seemed to have short-circuited his brain.

“I said I want a refund.” your tone is stoic, “I am not happy with the services I was provided.” Satoru’s shocked expression twists into a wide grin as you stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “High-end escort, my ass.”

Satoru laughs, throwing his head back as a faint flush grazes over his cheeks. “Yeah? Not happy at all, huh?” His eyes dance over your features.

“Nope! This jerk got up and left me after I paid him.” You shrug your shoulders dramatically. “Not only am I out an ungodly amount of money, but I’m also dateless for this wedding.”

“He sounds like a class-A-asshole.” Satoru’s hand gently reaches out, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, he was.” His heart flutters at ‘was’ instead of ‘is,’ an ember of hope flickers to life in his chest. “Then again, he said sorry, and punched the hell out of my asshole ex, so I guess he isn’t that bad.”

Satoru’s fingers are so warm and gentle against your face. His thumb brushed over tear-stained cheeks as he pulled you in, closing the distance between you. His forehead presses gently against your own as he shuts his eyes.

“I’ll make sure you get every last cent back.” White lashes life, pools of breathtaking blue peek through them, meeting you. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Cool,” you sighed, leaning into his touch, “I would like to use that money to take a few pastry classes.”

God, hearing you say that makes Satoru’s heart leap with joy. “Money well spent, not that you need it. Your pastries are the absolute best.” your hand reaches up, gently holding Gojo’s firmly against your cheek, not allowing him to move. He swallows thickly at the regret forming in his throat. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“How long did it take you to figure out it wasn't me after you left?”

“Maybe an hour,” he scoffed, his breath hot against your lips, “I honestly have to give Suguru the credit. He knocked the sense into my head.”

“Thank God for Suguru.”

“Yeah, he called me a fucking idiot.”

“Well—.”

“I know, I was the biggest fuckin’ idiot.”

Silence washed through the room. It wasn't uncomfortable in the silence, reminding you of the first night you two spent together. Things had been so smooth and natural with him, and they still were. Satoru hadn't believed you at first. He said some fucked up shit, but he had apologized for them. He had told you himself that he wanted to make your relationship work.

Staying angry and pushing him away would be too easy. You could quickly write this off as another failed relationship. Or you could do one of the hardest things a person could do.

You could fight.

Fight for what could be a relationship that only comes once in a lifetime. Fight for a future. You could fight to see this through, to see where it took you both.

You sat back, sighing dramatically. “I guess I owe Suguru a drink when you introduce us.” Cerulean eyes were the size of peas as your words washed over Satoru.

“What?”

“Or maybe I’ll take him to lunch for his help.” Heart thundering, you did your best to keep cool, examining your nails boredly. “Or better yet, I could make us three dinner. I may be a professional baker who works with confectioners sugar, but my curry is to die for.”

“S-Sweetheart—”

You grabbed Satoru’s face, pulling him as close to you as possible. “Toru,” The man stiffened at the use of his nickname, “you said what we have is worth fighting for. That you want to be with me.” You inched closer to his face, your fingers brushing over his cheekbones.

“I did say that, and I meant every word.” He leaned into your touch, his hands caressing your bruising knuckles.

“Are you positive?”

“I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't.”

“How can you be so sure? How will we make this work when you're an escort?” Dread worked its way through your stomach, settling over your chest. “I—I don't think I could just wait at home for you to come back from work. But I also don't want to keep you from doing something you love. You do it to help people; it makes you happy. I don't want to take that away from you.”

From the mere silence, you weren't sure what was going through Satoru’s mind. He just stayed stoic, glancing over you with an unreadable expression. God, maybe this was something he didn't want to give up.

What felt like an eternity of silence ended as Satoru moved. Your hands fell onto your lap as he ran his hands over your upper arms in smooth, gentle strokes. You had been so uncertain of what he would say or do, how he would react to your hesitancy. The way his crystalline blue eyes burned with a fiery passion told you everything you needed to know without the use of words.

“Sweetheart, I would rather fight with you than take on another client.”

His words felt like they’d stolen your soul. Your bottom lip quivered just as a trembling sob had your body shaking. Satoru pulled you into his lap, toned arms wrapping around you as you straddled him. His large palm stroked the back of your head as your chest pressed firmly against his.

You tried not to cry, but the relief was too much. Soft sobs vibrated in your chest as your head buried itself deep into the crook of Satoru’s neck, your hot, joyful tears staining his shirt. Not once did Satoru attempt to move you. He did the opposite, pulling you tighter against him, his fingers curled into your hair, stroking your scalp as you sobbed.

Those few words meant the entire world to you. The doubts and fears eating away at you like moths on cloth ceased to exist. They were replaced with a swarm of multi-colored butterflies that flutter in your stomach and heart.

You could make this work.

Pulling away from Satoru’s neck, you reached up to wipe at your eyes, but Satoru gently batted your hands away. His thumbs brushed against your flushed skin, wiping away the tears of joy. His touch, much like his words, embodied his affection for you. That sweet gesture made you want to cry more, but you were confident that all the crying you'd done in the last eighteen hours had dried up your tear ducts.

“I want to make this work with you.” Satoru gently cupped the back of your head. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

”Thank you for apologizing.” You gently ran your fingers over the fabric of his shirt. “And for punching Toji, it was so hot seeing you get all mad.”

Satoru held you tight, flopping down onto the futon with a chuckle. “You thought I was hot? Imagine me coming back to get my sunglasses with my tail between my legs to see kitchen utensils being flung through the kitchen.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth. “Seeing you going feral, slapping and kicking at a man twice your size, got me all hot and bothered.” He nuzzled your neck with a very phony bad prono moan. “I’d let you hit me all you want; just tell me I’m a good boy when you do.” His lips peppered kisses up your neck before pressing against the corner of your mouth, winning a series of giggles from you.

“Toru, you’re crazy.” Your words held no heat as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Mhmm, I’m crazy about you.”

You ran your fingers through his hair before you pulled him in, kissing him softly. The tension in his muscles relaxed as he kissed back. His smooth lips gently moved against yours. Maybe your lips tingle because of the taste of his mint toothpaste, or it could be the spark between you. Little fireworks exploded over your lips, deep in your chest, and even further between your legs.

The same embers that had burned hot and bright inside of you last night began to glow red hot with need. Your hands roamed down from his hair to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as you turned your head. Satoru’s eyes opened, focusing on your face. The way your eyebrows knitted together, how flushed your face and chest were, and the subtle way you rocked your hips up against him.

He pulled back, panting heavily against your slightly ajared mouth. “Sweetie.” He breathed out.

“Sorry,” you released him, “sorry.” Now might not be the right time to lose yourself into passion. But before you could spiral into your thoughts, Satoru followed your retreating hands, gently holding them.

”I don’t want you to stop.” He placed one of your hands back on his shirt, and you instantly grabbed a hold of the fabric. “Just be aware of the effect that you have on me.” He took your free hand, pressing it against his semi-hard cock that was twitching to life in his pants.

A sudden burst of confidence took over you. Licking your lips, you gently began stroking him while you gripped his shirt as tight as you could. Satoru shuddered, pressing both his hands on either side of your head caging you underneath him. A string of soft, murmured cries of your name slipped through his lips as he bucked into your hand.

”You’re twitching so hard.”

”Can’t help it, a beautiful woman is rubbing my cock.”

Releasing his shirt, you ran your hand over his arm, gently grabbing his wrist. He perked up, putting all his weight on his left hand as you gently led his other past your breasts, down your stomach, before you pressed him firmly over your clothed pussy. “I'm twitching, too.” Satoru’s cock throbbed hard underneath your palm. “You okay?” an aching growl rose in his throat as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.

“Y-Yeah, I think I just almost came in my pants.”

“Over touching my pussy?”

“No, it's because of you.” Your hips jerked as he increased the pressure of his fingers. “You're so goddamn irresistible. I want to please you.” fingers rubbed faster, his lips trailing down your neck in open-mouthed kisses.”I want you to call out my name, to make you cum so hard you think you're about to ascend.”

“Oooh, oooh fuck.” Satoru sucked in a breath as you slid your hand into his boxers. “Toru~ Feels good.”

“Yeah, it d-does.” He choked out, sliding his hand under your panties. “Fuuck, you weren't kidding.” Thick long fingers ran over your clit, spreading your slick arousal over the tiny bundle of nerves. “You’re so wet.”

You shifted, facing him, “I wanna try something.” Satoru nodded, kissing you deeply as you both tugged your pants and underwear off, followed by shirts. Once you were bare, you slotted your hips over his legs, resting your legs on either side of him. “This way, I can kiss and touch you.” Your words cut off as Satoru slammed his lips against yours in a starved, searing kiss.

You kiss his back, moaning and gasping against his lips. He used the opportunity of you gasping to shove his tongue into your mouth. His tongue searched for yours, wrapping and massaging it with his own as his fingers groped your breasts. He still tasted like mint, and the smell of musk overwhelmed you as his fingers gently kneaded you. His hands are so warm and gentle against the softness of your breasts; it's a bold contrast to the way his mouth roughly moves against yours.

He’s devouring you, making you melt against his body. You wanted to make him feel the same way you did, warm and fuzzy. You desired for Satoru to be desperate, like a thirsty man dehydrated in the desert, and you were his oasis. Reaching between your bodies, you rubbed your fingers up and down your pussy, collecting your slick over them. Hering the pitch change in your voice, Satoru followed your hand. The instant he saw your pretty fingers rubbing yourself, he growled into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

”A-Are you that desperate for relief?” Satoru sighed heavily against your lips, tongue flicking out, licking at the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “All you have to do is ask, and I’ll rub that perfect pussy~”

“I-I—oooh god,” you rubbed your clit in a short circle before dipping your hand back down, collecting more of your slick. “n-not doing it for my sake.”

”No?” Satoru nipped gently at your bottom lip, his hands massaging the fat of your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Then please tell me whose sake you’re doing it for.”

”Yours.”

Before Satoru could ask what you meant, he jumped as you wrapped your slick fingers around his thick throbbing cock. His head falls back as you begin rubbing your hand up and down his shaft, jerking him off, using your slick as lube. Feeling the heat from your juices and hand had Satoru losing himself, just like you wanted. He melted, his hands shakily grabbed you in order to ground himself as you jerked your wrist up and down faster.

”Feels good,” He groaned out, his hand dipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit. “but it’s not fair if I’m the only one feeling good now.” The tiniest moan passes through your pursed lips; your eyes meet him as you try to focus on keeping your hand moving up and down over his cock. But damn, his hands were too talented, it was hard to keep up with him. “God, you’re so wet just for me. If it feels this amazing on my fingers,” His hand dips further, two of his fingers pressing their way past your tight entrance and into your dripping cunt. “I can’t imagine how good it feels to be buried inside you.”

His fingers curl, rubbing your spongy sweet spot. They massage it, not stopping as you cry out softly against his mouth, your eyes narrowing as you stare into his eyes. They were usually full of light, but with his fingers buried inside of you and your hand wrapped around his cock, they were full of dark, desperate desire. If you were to move a certain way or make a single sound, he would be inside of you in the blink of an eye.

Which wasn’t a bad thing.

His lips were on yours, his moans flooding inside your mouth as you teased the tip of his dick with your thumb. Rubbing the pre-cum beading at the slit around the red swollen tip. Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed at the intense pleasure, his thumb mimicking the same pattern and strokes of your hand against your twitching clit. It didn’t take long for you to start rocking your hips against his hand, chasing your orgasm. Noticing the way you greedily fucked yourself on his fingers, Satoru pulled back, watching your hips rolling against him, desperately chasing the high you felt coming.

”What a good girl you are, taking what you want, what you need. I fucking love that.” A deep sigh escaped him, his breath fanning against your lips. “I love it, watching you lose all fucking control, it gets me off.” His cock twitched in your hand, emphasizing his point. “If you make yourself cum hard, I promise you I’ll make you cum ten times harder on my dick.” Satoru feels your walls flutter around his fingers. “You like the idea of that? Your pretty cunt seems to, she’s squeezing around me.”

”Y-Yeah, I want you, Satoru, want to feel you inside of me so back.”

”Cum for me first, then I’ll be sure to give you everything you want.”

You press your lips messily over his. “You promise? Promise you’ll give me everything I want?” His forehead presses against yours, his bangs sticking against your sweet sheen skin. “Promise?” You whine out desperately.

”Sweetheart, I promise I’ll give you everything you want and then some.”

Those positive affirmations were all you needed to have you gushing over his fingers. You silently scream against his lips, eyes clenched tight as you rocked and roll your hips against him. Satoru takes note of how your lips quiver and the way your back arches, pressing your breasts against his bare chest. Noting the way you sounded, how pretty you looked when you shattered and trembled in his lap as your hand squeezed his dick almost too hard as you let the waves of your orgasm hit you one after another.

Watching you cum in his lap would be a memory he’d look back on on lonely nights. God, he wanted to cum with you, to paint your tummy white with his hot seed. But the urge to pin you underneath him, you fuck you slowly, was stronger. Satoru wanted to have you cum that hard around his cock. To watch as you lose yourself in pure bliss because you deserve to. God, you deserved more than that, but this would be a good start.

He fully intended to make you feel this good as long as you would allow him.

When you found the strength to open your eyes slowly, you caught a glimpse of blue. Satoru had you pushed back on the futon, his fingers sliding out of you. His lips gently roamed over your breasts, kissing the mounds before his hands forced your legs apart. “Please tell me you still have that party favor bag.” He breathed out over your skin.

”You seriously think I would throw my terrible cheap penis candy away?” Satoru chuckled, lifting his head to watch you snatch a pink bag lying off to the side of you. “You'd be right; I fully intend on throwing it away once we use the condoms.”

“I have to admit, knowing you won’t be eating penis candy makes me feel pretty good.” He opened the bag, pulling out the six condoms shoved inside of it.

“I’m not opposed to eating penis candy if it tastes good.” A white brow arches at you. “I mean, I sucked yours last night, didn’t I?” You smirk as he fumbles, nearly dropping the foil packages in his hand. “I clearly remember just how sweet you tasted. Although I may need a reminder soon to confirm.”

”Babe, please, you’re going to make me blow my load before I even get inside of you.”

You watch as he tosses the other condoms to the side before ripping open the gold foil of a magnum condom with his teeth. ”Oooh, right, yeah.” Swallowing hard, you gape when Satoru rolls the condom over his cock with ease.

He slowly pushed his hips against yours, grinding his cock over your entrance to your clit. “Do you remember what I said to you our first night here at the inn?” Your soft moans are music to his ears as he grinds against you faster. “After you told me why you didn’t need to have sex?” Right now wasn't the time you wanted to be quizzed over things he said four days ago.

“Haah, fuck—uhm, you said you hoped that I would be able to recover soon?” His cock head pressed firmly against your entrance. “Nggh, I—I can’t remember. It’s hard to think when you’re teasing me like this.”

” No, you’re right. I did say I hoped you would recover.” His tip pressed harder against you, making your legs shake. “But I also said I wanted you to be able to have the most mind-blowing sex of your life.” The world seemed to slow as the gentleness of his words had you blinking. “I never thought I would be the one you’d be with.”

Something about the softness of his voice and the way he lovingly brushed his thumb over your bottom lip had your heart racing. This moment felt surreal as you replayed that first night again in your head. How you had cried in front of the escort you had hired to be your wedding date. He could have easily pushed you away, cringed over your complicated past, or not given a shit.

Instead, he hugged you and stroked your hair as you cried. He listened to you and allowed you to vent. This man went as far as defending you, siding with you. Satoru had held you close, bringing a certain comfort to your life you'd never felt before. It was a perfect full circle.

“I wouldn't want to be with anyone but you, Toru.” Gently cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him down, kissing him as passionately as you could. The warmth of your touch and the brush of your lips against his own made Satoru swell with excitement before shifting into a calmness that worked through him. “I need you.” You gasped out against his swollen lips.

“Then you’ll have me.”

Not wanting to waste another moment, Satoru gently pushed the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. You gasped against his lips, eyes wide as he stretched you. His ab’s clenched as he held himself back, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, as his lips gently moved over your cheeks. Only when he felt your walls unclench and your legs wrap around did he begin pushing back inside of you.

Satoru couldn't get over how tight you felt wrapped around him, how warm you were. He'd slept with his fair share of people, but this, the feeling of slowly slipping inside of you for the first time, was a moment he'd never forget. From the way you smelt and how your hot breath tickled his ear. The sensation of your finger scratching gently over his undercut would forever linger because he didn't want this to be the first or last time he buried himself inside of you.

No, he wanted you to be the only person he was this intimate with again. He could easily see himself feeling this profound, this drunk off of joy and excitement each time you slept together. Satoru wanted to only hear his name on your tongue from now on.

While you couldn't read his mind or feel the emotions that course through every being of his soul, you felt the same way. Being with Satoru like this just felt right. No doubt, no uncertainty sat at the pit of your stomach. Just excitement and joy. Like you were walking a tightrope without the fear of falling.

This was perfection.

“Y-You're so tight.” Satoru choked out with a laugh as he pushed further inside of you with a whine. “Oooh, so fucking tight, baby.”

“Y-Yeah~ you're so big, really big.” Your breath chokes out as he slides deeper inside. “Haaa-haaah.” You dig your heels into his ass, pushing him further inside of your tight heat.

“N-Nnngh fuck, someone's getting impatient.”

“I can't help it, I-I want it, I want you so fucking bad.”

Satoru grunts softly, his tongue flicking over your bottom lip before hems slowly pulling out of you. “I want it too, baby.” He slowly slides back in, angling his hips to rub perfectly over that sweet spot inside of you. “And I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” His tongue gently slid past your slightly parted lips as he set a smooth and gentle pace.

You kiss back softly, flicking your tongue over his as his cock fucks you gently into the bedding. Your mind is reeling, taking over every one of your five senses, from his taste and smell. How his groans and grunts sound in your ears. You could feel his muscles twitching as his cock slowly bullied its way over your g-spot before pressing gently over your cervix. But it was the way he looked at you that genuinely had your heart stammering. Satoru was looking at you with a certain softness as his face contorted with pleasure.

You whimpered as he smiled, planting kisses down your neck, gently suckling at it. Satoru put all the emotions in his chest into those gentle, tender kisses. Savoring the way you jerked and squirmed as he gently fucked into your cunt. He suffocates on the delectable addictive air that was you. You take his breath away with every tear-filled glance into his eyes; every gasp and cry is music to his ears. So, of course, he’s lost his grip of control. Grabbing both your hands, he pinned them on either side of your head, his fingers interlacing with them as he moved at a faster pace.

“Ah—hah Toru,” you squeeze his hands, “Satorru~!” Crying out against Satoru’s mouth, you squeeze your thighs around him. Seeing you this fucked out of your mind as he fucked his thick cock deeper inside of you, only had Satoru moving faster.

“Ooh baby~ fuck~ fuuuuck~ you're getting close. I can feel it.” He grunts through gritted teeth. “You’re squeezing my cock just like you were squeezing my fingers.”

“Mmm yeah, M’ close Toru~!” You almost lose it as he grinds into you, his hips rubbing over your sensitive clit as his cock massages your sweet spots deep inside of you.

His grip on your hand tightens as he hisses, cock throbbing. “Oooh fuck, yeah baby, make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me.” One messy kiss followed by another. “Fuck~! Fuuuuck, I'm close too, gonna cum inside your tight hole~!” Nails dig into the back of his hands as your pussy clenched and twitches around him. “Yeah~ your pussy is so good~ telling me she likes what I’m saying. You want me to cum, yeah~?” Throw your head back, and you cry softly at the coil forming in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah wanna, wanna cum together~! Wanna—-ooooh god fuck me!” Satoru watched your eyes shut, tight eyebrows knitting together. He grinds his hips harder against your clit, buffs of deep growls leaving his mouth as his balls clench.

“Cum on my cock sweetheart~ yeah~ oooh fuck me yes!”

“Cu—” A scream of unfiltered ecstasy cuts off your words. Satoru watches you as you squirt over his crotch and the sheets beneath you both. “Ah!! Haaah!!”

Your trashing and shaking drives Satoru up the fucking wall. He frees your hands, gripping your hips, lifting them slightly so he can continuously fuck into your g-spot. Your legs shake aggressively as you fist the sheets. Your body was vibrating, eyes watering as you cum for a third time, watching as clear liquid soaks Satoru’s hips before you see white.

“Haa, fuck~ fuck~ fuck—” his head tips forward, watching his cock disappear inside of your convulsing pussy. “Cu-Cummin!” He bit out. “Cumming! Cumming!!” He doesn't scream like you, but he roars like a fucking beast. “Graahk! Fuuuck! Fuck!! Take it! Take all of my cum!”

You’re so sensitive it almost hurts to have Satoru thrusting himself inside you. He doesn't stop until his hips stop moving on their own, and the condom between you is filled to the brim. Only at that point does he gently pull out of you, grimacing as you wince in pained pleasure.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks as he takes the condom off, tying it to throw it in the trash can near the bed.

“I-I’m so good.” You drunkenly slur, but you haven't had a sip of alcohol. “Oh my god, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my entire life.”

You could see Satoru swell with pride as he headed to the bathroom. “I guess my wish for you did come true.” You can hear the water running before he comes back. “How was the mind-blowing sex?”

“Confident in yourself?”

“I don't mean to come off as an arrogant ass.” He shrugs a shoulder as he drops to his knees gently, wiping your thighs and pussy clean with the warm rag in his hand. “But I'm ninety-five percent sure I saw your soul leave your body.”

“Okay! Okay!” You sputtered out a laugh as he wiped himself clean before lying beside you, pulling you into his side with a satisfied hum. “Okay, the mind-blowing sex was—” your eyes trailed up to his face, “well mind-blowing!”

“Ah~” he blows against his trimmed nails, “way to go, Satoru~” and rubs nails over his pectoral muscle.

“You dork!” you playfully smack his arm, “that was so uncool. Like the uncoolest thing to do.”

Satoru was beaming with joy as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You sighed, missing him back roughly before pulling away with a happy hum. “Still uncool?”

“Super uncool.”

“Worth a shot.”

You lay there, tracing shapes over Satoru’s chest. “Hey, Toru?” you asked, turning your head to study his perfect face. You were surprised to see him watching you, his blue eyes tracing over the curves of your body, to the way your finger drew invisible hearts over him.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“What are you doing this Saturday?” You swore the man underneath you twisted faster than the speed of light. There was a certain glimmer of excitement in his eyes that had your heart fluttering like the butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, I did have this client, but I was dumb enough to cancel on them, so my Saturday is free!”

“Good,” you kissed the tip of his nose, “would you like to be my wedding date?”

“I would love to be your wedding date.”

Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@arminloverlol l @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe e @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart t @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 5 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovley212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator r @bloopsstuff @pepepepepopopopo @pandoness @sw33cadav3r @rixo-19 @meguvmii @sxnkuna @mmeerraa @lemonintrovert01 @bunny-lily @kibananya @kamastar39 @rjreins @lzaj19 @tiredflame132 @manyno @oliiper @rengokushair @simp-plague @matchalatte06 @haesify @majanggeum @solarrexplosion N@tbzzluvr @username23345 @demonboyssss @sakui1

#escort!gojo #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk reader smut #jjk #jjk y/n #jjk gojo smut #jjk reader insert #jjk men #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo imagine #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #satoru x reader smut

[beskarandblasters]

A Twisted Fantasy

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist

Summary: You masturbate while thinking about your encounter with the Ghoul.

Word count: 750

Warnings: reader refers to him as the Ghoul, reader is able-bodied, Cooper might be a little OOC but fuck it we ball, masturbation, allusions to smut, pet names (sweetheart), light canon typical violence, no use of y/n

Late at night, under the cover of the trees and the night sky, you think about him– the Ghoul. 

You don’t know his name. But you don’t need to. All you know is that ever since you saw him weeks ago, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. It’s an unfortunate chain of events. You had pissed off the wrong crowd in Filly, owing them bottle caps you most definitely didn’t have.

And for that, a bounty was placed on your head. That’s when the Ghoul came into your life. But only for a fleeting moment.

You were walking the streets after dark, already a bad idea. A hand enclosed around your wrist as you were dragged into a dark alley, followed by the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of your head. 

“It’ll all be over real soon, sweetheart. Be a lot easier if you didn’t resist either.”

“Please no-” you started to beg. 

“I’ll have you know.. they didn’t care if you were brought in dead or alive.”

“Sir, please. I don’t have any bottle caps. I can’t-”

He spun you around you were facing him. His appearance didn’t scare you. You had encountered Ghouls before. But he was different. 

He had a voice so sultry it made you melt, knees buckling underneath you. The brim of his hat hung low, covering his eyes. You were backed up against a wall, cool metal chilling your burning skin. A weird mixture of fear for what’s come and arousal coursed through your body. His gun moved to your temple while his other hand pinned your hands above your head. Fuck. 

Tears welled up on your lash line, threatening to spill over. It wasn’t long before they finally rolled down your cheeks in an unstoppable flow. 

“Please, sir. I don’t have anything.”

“Nothin’?” he asked, his eyes finally meeting yours as he cocked his head to the side. 

You shook your head no, crying harder at the feeling of his gun against your head. 

He looked conflicted, eyes betraying the words he was saying. 

“Look, sweetheart… A job’s a job.”

You cried and stuck out your lip, hoping and praying for a shred of mercy. You’re a crying, pathetic mess and maybe he’ll sense that. He sighed and cursed under his breath, looking away from you and at the ground instead. 

“I suppose I could say you ran off… That I need to track you down again…”

“Really?” you asked, your face lighting up. 

“Maybe but only if you do exactly as I say.”

“Anything,” you nodded as he lowered his gun. 

“Run as far as you can away from here,” he said, letting go of your hands. 

You waited for further instructions but he shouted, “I said run!” shooing you off. “Unless you want me to change my mind.”

“No, sir!” you squeaked, running as fast as you could out of Filly. 

You were thankful he spared your life but for some reason, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You replayed every time he called you sweetheart in your mind. It didn’t help that he looked just like a fucking cowboy, accent and all. 

And now here you are, fingers deep in your cunt, thinking about the Ghoul. You wish he were here right now, watching you please yourself. Or better yet… you wish he were making you feel good instead. 

You imagine he’d talk you through it, praising you for being such a good girl, telling you how good you take his fingers or his cock. You think about his pleasure and how long it’s probably been since he felt any. You’d take care of that for him, making him curse under his breath like he did that one night in the alley. You’d do anything he wanted if it meant he’d call you sweetheart again. 

God, how twisted is this? You’re fantasizing about a mutant who had the power to take your life right there and then. But that adds to the allure, to the fantasy. You’d pretend to be his bounty any day of the week, letting him whisper in your ear as he fills you up. 

Before you know it, you cum around your fingers. Waves of pleasure rush through your body as you bite your lip to muffle your moans. The disappointment of the situation settling in now. The Ghoul’s not here and you’re alone. You roll over and sigh, silently hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll cross paths again one day. 

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Part two

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x fem!reader #the ghoul fanfiction #fallout fanfiction #fallout

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), softdom!rafayel, but also kiiind of switch!rafayel, kissing and making out, teasing, guided masturbation, inappropriate use of a paintbrush, clit play, nipple play, slight overstimulation, slight edging if you squint, thigh riding, praise, cursing, dirty talk, use of pet names "my muse" "princess" "baby", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 3.2k

taglist : @zaynesaurora @darlingdummycassandra (+ @seaofgoldensand mwah) | sign up here!

an : guys bc ,,,,,, i swear you never truly realize how daunting it can be to act as an impromptu live model for someone.. until you try it...

You underestimate the intimacy of eye-contact.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

There was nothing but silence in the air, only occasionally interrupted by a tap of his shoe on the floor, or a squeaking of the chair when he moved. There was the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint, hushed sound of delicste brushstrokes on the canvas...

These were the only things you could focus on, if not at the way that he looked at you.

Rafayel's stare was intense.

Anytime he would shift his gaze from the canvas and back to you; anytime you'd catch the way his eyes would take in the shape of your figure...

You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; this was just part of the process. He was only being professional, after all—of course an artist needed to look at his model!

...But it was less about what he felt; this was something that you, yourself couldn't take.

"Eyes up here, princess," came his voice, the familiar sing-songy tone to it triggering a bout of butterflies.

You were torn, somewhat.

You wished you could wipe that knowing smile right off of his face, but simultaneously felt that you could cave underneath even just that stupid, stupid gaze of his.

...And you knew that you had brought this upon yourself.

Whatever bickering had started with his whine about a "lack of inspiration" and a roll of your eyes in response, had settled with you offering to be his model.

You even recalled how surprised he was, the concern that etched on his features—

"Hm? But it could take a while, you know. Might be uncomfortable for you to sit for so long."

You figured it couldn't hurt. You were willing to get through it if it meant finally bringing your partner out of his rut, and in turn, his willingness to paint you—when he had sworn that portraits were never even his thing—felt like a little treat.

However, as much as you believed you'd have the upper hand in this situation, you severely underestimated it.

Now, you sat atop a cushioned chair, assuming a position you were comfortable with holding for a time unspecified. You donned normal, unnassuming clothing, just your everyday top and jeans. And in front of you sat a painter and his canvas, his hands moving tastefully over the piece he crafted, a certain twinkle in his eye that already had you reeling.

Rafayel was painting you, and by all means did nothing about this set up look the least bit intimate to either of you—

But you felt like it was.

It was a private moment, just the two if you in this room, gazes meeting with an intensity that made you want to squeeze something.

You didn't know if you had to owe it to how attractive he was, but staying like this, with nothing else to focus your attention on, you could only notice how pretty he was. Soft, layered hair so perfectly styled into place, his signature low-cut shirt framing his figure so nicely...

And his eyes.

God, his eyes.

Rafayel had the most captivating eyes you'd ever seen—A mix of a deep magenta and cerise, of mulberry and wine... So unrelenting in their allure that though the intensity had your heart beating wildly in your chest, you could never, for the life of you, ever tear your gaze away.

It was visceral.

It sent a tingle down your spine.

You could curse all the memories that would flood to your head just because of it, those images and sensations of your nights together. The way he'd look at you, with lust, and love, such passion imbued with every roll of his hips against yours... This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, you knew that. They brought an obvious hue of pink to your cheeks that you knew he'd notice, but you almost couldn't help it—

Was a siren's allure truly so confining?

You had nowhere to run.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could almost think this was...

Intentional.

"Little muse, you're blushing."

If you thought it couldn't get any worse, you were clearly wrong.

Rafayel's brushstrokes had paused, and the mirth that danced in his eyes set off all the warning bells that your brain could manage.

"...Shut up, you're imagining things," you mumbled, willing youself to turn your head away from him.

"Ah ah ah~ I'm not done yet, don't move, princess."

And to think that when you'd started, he'd been concerned for you.

Despite yourself, you fidgeted in your seat.

You couldn't take any more of this.

You'd been at it for close to an hour by now, the silence, the staring, the butterflies—

A slight shift in your position made you painfully aware of the wetness that had pooled between your thighs, and you wanted to crawl into a cave.

"Hey. You tired?"

Rafayel was searching your expression, reading you.

It wasn't helping.

"N-no," you managed to nearly choke out, your obvious fluster making your cheeks feel warmer.

And in all this time that you've known him, been with him—you knew that he could put two and two together.

A smirk spread over his features.

You were in for it.

"I'll allow some movement," he hummed, setting his brush down momentarily, "but it looks like you want something a little more... specific..."

"Rafayel, if you don't shut up—"

He grinned.

"Why? We can take a break, yeah? I'm just giving you free space to do as you want."

You watched his eyes rake over your figure, lingering over the way your legs were pressed more tightly together than you'd started with.

"Don't tell me you need me to guide you, princess..."

You wished you could slap that smile off his face.

Rafayel folded his arms, leaning back a little. The shine in his eyes didn't budge even a millimeter; his gaze remained steely on you.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, my muse, I'd say you've gotten a little needy."

You didn't know why you bothered to stay put in your seat, when the paintbrush was not even in his hands anymore.

And he noticed.

"Yeah? I'm right, aren't I?" he chuckled. "So why don't you release some of your stress before we continue? Since you're not getting up, you might as well do something for my motivation..."

The way he gestured towards the canvas, wearing that infuriating little smirk of his, had the heat rushing to your face.

"As if you could take watching me touch myself," you shot back, mirroring his pose and crossing your arms.

You cheered in silent victory at the momentary lapse in his expression, though it settled back into his smile within seconds.

"Mmn... Then we'll have to do something about that later, if it comes to it," he shrugged. "But this is about you, princess."

For a while there was no response from either of you, just staring silently at each other, daring one to make a move—

Until his gaze made you squirm, and he let out a snort.

"Oh, princess..." he started, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to touch you when I still intend to get back to finishing this piece. So if you want to use our little break to do something about this... You'll have to do it yourself. Come on, now. Undress for me, yeah?"

He was infuriating.

A menace.

This was karma for all the times you've rendered him speechless, and he was enjoying it.

You clicked your tongue, the challenge in your eyes winning over the embarrassment that stirred in the pit of your stomach.

"Fine! Don't blame me if you'll never finish that painting..."

Frustrated though you might have been, and perhaps, ever determined to pay back his teasing, the look in his eyes remained bewitching.

It was foul play.

Your fingers trembled as you deftly pushed your panties to the side, your jeans kicked down to your ankles, your legs spread. Rafayel had seen you—used you—many times before... But there was something unnervingly intimate about doing this for him, when he was a number of laces away from you, watching, observing.

It was as if you were... a show.

"You're dripping," he commented, voice quiet and low, unable to keep himself from leaning forward as if to get a better look at you.

His words sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You could only shoot him a glare, your blush betraying otherwise the effect that his heated gaze on you had.

"Go ahead, princess... I bet you're aching to be touched."

You almost didn't want to admit it, the way his voice played in your ear so sweetly that your heart could simply burst out of your chest. He made you weak, and you could barely think straight, and he could... see it all.

You chewed on your lip, shakily dipping a finger just barely into your heat, sliding up between your folds with a trail of obvious slick left in its wake.

"Shit..." you cursed under your breath.

You were almost scared to look back up at him, knowing you'd see those god-foresaken eyes again, so heated as they took in your every movement, your every action—

"That's it, princess," Rafayel murmured. "Play with yourself. Rub your clit for me, yeah?"

Your eyes closed as you found yourself doing exactly as you were told.

Soft pants fell from your lips, your middle finger drawing upwards to circle your sensitive nub. Just slow, gentle rubs, easing you into a rhythm of pleasure... You dared to open your eyes, catching the way his gaze remained fixated on your movements, his own eyes darkening, his lips parted slightly.

"You're so wet, baby..." His voice was hoarse now, clearly just as affected by the situation as you were. "Can you put a finger in? Please?"

Your features schooled into a small smile; victorious, in a way, despite your own obvious display of need. "But, why, Rafa?" you teased. "I don't wanna rush..."

The groan that he let out was delicious, and your eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

"C'mon, princess... I wanna see. Do it for me? Just one finger, yeah?"

"You're so easy to get all worked up, Rafa~" you found yourself cooing at him, taking note of his flushed cheeks, the heat in his eyes mirroring your own.You were the one touching yourself, and yet, he was the one begging. It was amusing, in a sense—how just the simplest things reduced him to this sort of mess.

"Just a little taste of your own medicine," you quipped.

But you did as he said, anyway.

The first push of a finger into your cunt had you moaning. The glide was easy, smooth, your walls accepting of your own intrusion, almost aching for even more.

"Fuck... that's it, baby, in and out, just like that."

It was almost amusing to hear him speak that way, so enraptured by the way you pleasured yourself, lost in the thought of you coming undone right in front of him. You didn't need his words of guidance; you knew exactly which spots had you keening, how to gradually bring yourself over the edge. Yet, he would still offer up words of such praise to you anyway, guiding you, telling you what to do, how to please yourself.

And there was something, just something, about the rawness in his voice that got to you.

Your eyes met as you began to buck your hips into your hand, sliding against the cushion, willing to give yourself more stimulation. Your breath fell out in puffs of quick pants, your heart rate accelerating, the pierce in his gaze so daunting and intimidating, yet so... arousing.

"R-Rafayel..."

Your eyes went hazy, unable to bring yourself to turn away from the hypnotic quality of his gaze.

"Keep going, princess, I'm here."

Your fingers moved faster, curling into your heat, emphasizing the obscene sounds of wetness that filled the studio. Your thumb moveed over to brush your clit, your other hand gripping the seat impossibly tighter, and then—

"R-Rafa!" You threw your head back, hips stuttering. "I-I'm close!"

In your peripheral vision you could see him lick his lips, his voice coming out hoarse, full of want. "Yeah? You are, huh? Come on, princess, just a little more. Work those fingers for me."

His words proved enough.

"Shit—fuck—!" A string of curses left your lips. You felt it as the pleasure rolled through your body, eliciting a gasp, causing you to nearly double over.

"There we go. Such a pretty little muse. That expression on your face is beautiful."

His words soothed you from your high, a gentle coo of praise as you took your fingers from out of your wetness. When you looked up at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if to beckon you. "C'mere, princess. You did so well for me, let me taste those pretty fingers of yours."

You almost clapped back at him, as if the urge to bicker—to one-up him—rose up just by instinct. Yet, there were those eyes again. That particular look that was magnetizing. It was more than a beckon. It felt like an allure. You were almost certain you'd moved on your own, slow steps into his arms, gently allowing yourself to be pulled onto his lap, the glisten from your earlier orgasm immediately coating the fabric of his pants.

He did as he promised, guiding your fingers into his mouth, looking straight at you with eyes full of lust. His tongue swirled over the pads of your fingers, and you twisted them for him. Watching him suck on your digits, slowly moving them in and out, promising him the taste he so desperately wanted... before you pulled them away with a wet pop.

"Give me one more," he whispered immediately, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "One more, before I finish this painting. Think you can do that?"

You'd nearly forgotten about the painting. It was behind you, your back turned towards it, your eyes only focused on the man before you. You didn't look back—didn't need to, not now. Not when his offer was so... tempting.

"'Kay," you mumbled. Your response was just as instant, your hips moving to glide over his thigh.

But he smirked.

A hand went to your back to support you, hold you in place, and your eyes widened when a clean, unused paintbrush found its way into his other hand.

"R- Rafayel...?"

"Just want to have a little bit of fun," he said breezily, gently trailing the brush from your jawline, all the way down over your collarbone. The sensation made you shiver. "Go on, princess. Don't mind me..."

Don't mind me.

He had the audacity to say that as he let you move all over his thigh, the bristles of his brush leaving a trail of goosebumps with every little stroke on your skin. Just light, feathery, teasing flicks, enough to add to your stimulation... It felt nice, and you'd never admit it to his face, but you could fold.

"You'd be so lovely to paint, look at you," he murmured. And he enjoyed the way your body jolted at his words, the chuckle enough of a testament. "Yeah? You like that idea, don't you, princess? Next time, maybe, I can have even more fun with you..."

The paintbrush began to venture lower, flicking against your nipples.

Your eyes went wide.

"W-wait—!" You gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling him repeat the motions. Again, and again—the brush circled around your pert, sensitive nub, his gaze turning thoughtful, his little tool giving you more sensations than you knew were even possible.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

It acted like a soft caress, one so foreign to you that it made your head spin.

And he didn't dare stop there.

He must have gotten incredibly worked up, you thought, as he stilled your hips and leaned you back. You could guess where things were going; the way his hand supported your back from toppling into the canvas was firm and determined, your position already having your dripping cunt a little bit more on display for him.

"Look at me, princess," he whispered.

And you felt it—the paintbrush gliding lower and lower, gentle strokes over the skin of your abdomen, pausing just above your clit.

Your breath hitched.

Anticipation hung in the air, your eyes barely managing to stay locked onto his as your face seemed to fume with embarrassment.

"Rafayel," you huffed. "Seriously, you...!"

He circled the brush, a smirk tugging on his features. Feathery bristles brushed against you clit, and you let out a cry. There was a pattern, almost: he'd move the brush gently down the side of your folds, fluttering back up to your nub, pressing against it with a certain kind pressure he knew you always loved... Teasing, always teasing, never lingering for too long in a single spot.

It had you moaning almost immediately.

"What was that, my muse?" he grinned.

You'd never wanted to slap that expression off of his face any more than you did now, yet he had you helpless. You felt like putty in his hands, melting with every movement of his little brush, your thighs tensing over his. You didn't even need to move, anymore; the sensitivity from your previous orgasm had your senses heightening scarily quick, the coil steadily beginning to tighten in your stomach.

It felt as if he'd barely been doing anything.

Just that goddamned brush teasing you in all the right places, flicking against your clit, as he watched you clench around nothing.

"Please!" you swallowed your pride down deep enough to beg, the look in your eyes harboring a frustrated glare of want. "Stop teasing, Rafa, I need...!"

"Yeah? Need what, hm?"

Oh, he was having fun.

"N-need to cum! Need... Need something, Rafa, c'mon—!"

The brush set back aside, and he kissed you.

All tongue, even teeth, just messy, and deep, a pure display of the lust that had taken both of you hostage. His hands were in your hair, your body pressed so close against him, hips beginning to move again over his thigh. A few more soft, hushed, groans, and wet noises of passion, and you were gone.

You felt it snap, pulling back from the kiss only to fall forward onto his shoulder, muffling your moans into his shirt. It was insane, you thought, how he could rip out such a visceral reaction from you, a pleasure so overwhelming as you squeeze your legs over his thigh.

Easing you down, he rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushed words of praise tumbling from his lips.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

"My perfect little muse, so pretty, so beautiful," he sighed, hugging you close. "I can't wait to paint all your greedy desires onto my canvas."

⁺₊ / an: phew!! overdue and i feel like this isn't my best best work, but it doesss represent the chokehold this fish has on me 🙄 a girl's just gotta satisfy her rafayel cravings i guess!!

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#love and deepspace smut #love & deepspace smut #lads smut #l&ds smut #lnds smut #love and deepspace #love & deepspace #l&ds #lnds #lads #love and deepspace rafayel #love & deepspace rafayel #l&ds rafayel #lnds rafayel #rafayel x reader smut #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #*ੈ♡. rose garden #divider by saradika #✿˖°. roxiefic

[arieslost]

ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo

#aries answers #anon <3 #request #blurb #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one fluff #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fluff #formula one fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x you

[actuallysaiyan]

Thank You(Scarred!Rengoku Kyojuro x Fem!Slayer!Reader)

warnings: trauma, mentions of death, wounds, blood, smut, unprotected sex, angst, sadness, fluff, Mugen Train Spoilers, AU word count: 2.3k pairings: Scarred!Rengoku Kyojuro x Fem!Slayer!Reader summary: after Kyojuro survives the events of the Mugen Train incident, he finds himself hoping for someone better to come sweep you off your feet. what Kyojuro doesn't realize is that you are with him, for better or for worse. a/n: IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL MAN! PLEASE I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

Dividers by the loverly @benkeibear

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @misty-angerose @adharadotcom

Since the incident that happened with the Mugen Train, Kyojuro wondered how many days he had left. He hated thinking that way, but he couldn’t help but think about how he was always inches away from death. He just barely managed to avoid death that time, and now he was trying to heal so he could get right back to being the flame Hashira.

But something had been more pressing than that. Even though he lost his left eye and sustained some deep internal wounds, his love for you never faltered. He found himself thinking of not only his mother, but also you, during his final moments. Or at least, what Kyojuro had believed to be his last moments. And when he had bestowed his advice on the young Kamado, Kyojuro felt his life fading fast.

The one thing he hadn’t been expecting was to see your beautiful face as he felt his life slipping away. You weren’t happy though, no you were desperate. You began treatment on him immediately, using a potion from Shinobu. She had been the one to tell you that your lover had gone on to fight the demon plaguing the Mugen Train. 

The next thing Kyojuro remembers is waking up in the Butterfly Mansion. His whole body ached, he couldn’t see out of his left eye and he was tired. But he didn’t think he was going to make it out alive from that battle. He remembered the way young Kamado was so fed up with the way the demon had gotten away. He remembered the determination on your face too.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Shinobu comments as she enters the room. Kyojuro feels so disoriented.

“Mmm…yes.”

Shinobu begins taking his vitals, checking his healing. When she feels satisfied with the way things are going, she begins to change his bandages. While she’s taking care of him, Kyojuro inquires about your wellbeing and how things happened after he passed out from the bloodloss.

“You were so lucky she was there,” Shinobu finally says.

Kyojuro swallows hard, “I know that. I owe her my life.”

Shinobu leaves, telling him that lunch will be served momentarily. He lies in the bed, feeling a little better now that his bandages have been changed and that Shinobu had given him something for the pain. He thinks about you, wondering where you are.

The door opens and there you are. You look inside the room, worried about what you might find. You’ve been missing your lover. You worried day and night about him, unsure if you’d ever get to look at his beautiful face once more. You wondered if you’d ever hear the sound of his voice.

You rush over to him, tears in your eyes. He doesn’t even know what to say. He lets you crumble in his arms, and he lets you press kisses to his wounded and scarred face.

“Oh my flame…” you whisper. “I thought—I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Precious little flame,” Kyojuro murmurs back. “I am happy to see you again.”

You cup his face, careful not to put too much pressure on any of his wounds. Then you press your lips to his, savoring the way he tastes. You swore to yourself that you’d never forget this taste. You’d never forget the way he smells like scorched earth and bonfires. The way he’s always warm, even on cold nights. Tears cascade down your cheeks.

“I love you, Kyojuro. I never wanted you to go on that mission.”

Kyojuro chuckles, “You know that I needed to go. I’m a Hashira. I’m meant to protect the innocent.”

You cry even harder, making his face screw up in pain. He hates hearing you cry. He hates seeing you in pain like this. Kyojuro sits up and he gathers you up in his arms. Even if his bones and muscles scream out in pain, he doesn’t care. What matters most to him is to be able to hold you so close.

“I’m scared to lose my lover,”

Your words pierce his heart. He knows what it means to have this heavy burden placed on his shoulders. His father had quit being the Hashira because of the death of his mother. Kyojuro had watched the man crumble so quickly, taking up alcohol as a way to cope. He wonders if maybe you’d end up like that if you were to lose him.

“You won’t lose me. I promise,”

The next few weeks consist of you helping Kyojuro return to the closest to normal as he can. He’s mostly been relieved of his duties as a Hashira for the time being. He’s healing up well, but something sits deep in his heart. He wonders if maybe you should find someone else.

Not only are you attending to his every need now, you’re just wasting your precious time with him. You could be happier with someone else. You could make someone very lucky. It hurts Kyojuro so deeply when he begins to imagine you with someone else.

Late at night when everyone has gone to sleep and you’re sleeping in his arms now that Shinobu has given the okay for this, Kyojuro admires your beauty. He admires your strength and your courage. Then he thinks about you marrying someone else. He’s no fool, he knew he should have perished in his last battle. He should have died.

Kyojuro cannot bring himself to even imagine making you his bride. The thought of turning you into such a young widow. It makes him ache so deep inside. He weeps silently, wishing things could be different for the both of you. He thinks about how he’s going to break things off with you. It’s what should happen. You could be so much happier.

The thing is, Kyojuro didn’t realize that you were so determined to keep him close to your heart. One day as the two of you are walking through the wisteria trees, you turn to face your lover.

“Kyo, you know that I absolutely adore you, correct?”

He smiles softly, “I do know this, my little flame.”

His jaw drops when he sees you kneeling in front of him. A beautiful silver band sits in your hands as you present to him this ring. It’s engraved with someone’s name on it, but he doesn’t recognize it.

“I know I shouldn’t be the one to do this.” You try to clarify. “It should be the man. But I love you, and I’m not about to lose you. Please…marry me.”

Kyojuro feels his stomach doing flips. He looks at the beautiful ring you have presented him. He looks at the sincerity in your eyes and it just breaks his heart. You deserve better than someone cracked and broken.

“My little flame,” he helps you to your feet. “I couldn’t…I shouldn’t…”

Your heart shatters at the response. It’s not at all what you were expecting. Tears began to well up in your eyes. You don’t know how to process the words that have just come from your lover.

“D-do you not…do you not love me?”

It was his turn for his heart to shatter. The thought of you even thinking he doesn’t love you was enough to make him tremble. Tears slide down his cheeks as he gathers you up in his arms. You try to squirm to get away, which makes him feel even more guilty.

“I do love you. I love you so much, I’d give you the moon and the stars if you asked it of me.” Kyojuro explains through sobbing and hiccuping. “I’d give you anything you want. I just think you deserve better than me. I’m broken and I’m not good enough for you.”

You shake your head in defiance. “Kyojuro, you are my heart and my soul. You are more than good enough for me.”

Then you cup his face in your hands. It’s been a while since his bandages have been taken off, but he still suffers from nerve damage and sensitivities. He shudders at your touch, loving the way your softness always comes through. He nuzzles his face in the palms of your hands, sighing.

“I am broken.” He finally manages to say. “You need someone who could make you happy.”

You scoff, “You are the one who makes me happy. You are the one I need.”

Kyojuro finally opens his eyes. The left one doesn’t work, only able to see grayscale in that one. He can see very vague shapes through it. But he knows what you look like from memory. Even if he lost his sight completely, he would still know the beauty and grace that has blessed you.

“I wouldn’t want you to regret it.”

You shake your head, “Marrying my lover would never be a regret.”

The day fast approaches. Kyojuro wonders if he’ll look presentable for you. He knows that his father has allowed you and him to wear the family’s traditional wedding clothes, but he still feels like a complete failure to his family and to you.

“Kyojuro,” Shinjuro enters the room. “Are you prepared?”

Kyojuro is touched to see his father looking so well-groomed for the first time in what seems like forever. He smiles, tears filling his eyes once more. Shinjuro is shocked, but he feels this tenderness coming from his eldest son. Shinjuro approaches his son, smoothing down the folds in his garment.

“You will be a good husband. You are patient, caring, sweet and understanding. You have inherited the best qualities from me and your mother, just like your brother has.”

Kyojuro wipes his eyes, pulling on the eyepatch to cover the damaged eye. Shinjuro smiles sweetly, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. He doesn’t remember the last time he was this affectionate with Kyojuro. It feels so good to know his son has survived and is taking a good woman as his bride.

“You will be blessed. This I know.”

Kyojuro exits his dressing room and he’s guided towards the shrine that your marriage will take place in. Shinjuro guides him to the altar, and then he takes his spot off to the side. 

All eyes are on you as you arrive. You walk down towards the altar, looking like an angel dressed in your all-white shiromuku. Kyojuro’s eyes widen when he sees you. You’re the most precious thing in his life, and here you are, walking towards him so you can get married.

The wedding officiant begins the ceremony which will join you and Kyojuro forever. You will be bound together. 

Everyone is in tears by the time you two share a kiss. They have never witnessed such a wonderful union in their lives. All your friends are so happy for the both of you.

By the time the wedding is over, you know that you have no regrets. You have made the best choice for yourself. You adore Kyojuro and nothing could ever change that for you.

Kyojuro had been worried that you wouldn’t want to be intimate with him. He had his doubts that you even saw him as attractive anymore. But every doubt and worry and insecurity was tossed out the window the minute you two were relaxing in the onsen in your honeymoon suite.

You straddled his lap gently, kissing him on the lips. Your hands caressed and massaged his muscles, making him feel aroused. His cock twitched to life with every single searing kiss you gave him.

Your tongues tangled together, swapping saliva. His breath feels hot on your skin whenever you pull away to breathe. Soft pleas fall from your reddened and swollen lips.

“I want you,” you purr. “I need to feel you.”

Kyojuro is shocked, but his heart skips a beat. He feels the way you touch him, and he knows you are being very truthful. With renewed strength, your husband picks you up and brings you over to the bed. He crawls on top of you, the lust and love written all over his face.

He kisses you passionately, cupping your face between his calloused hands. His nose rubs against yours, dragging down your cheek as he finds other places to kiss you. Your body feels so hot, so electrified. Every touch and every kiss is mesmerizing.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathes out as he kneads your breasts.

“As you are,” you compliment him. “You look just as beautiful as the day I met you.”

This makes his heart swell with love. Despite everything he was thinking before he married you, he can see that you adore him. You want the best for him, and you happen to be the absolute best for him.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he suckles on your nipples, then he presses open-mouthed kisses down your body. Kyojuro lets out a growl when he spreads your thighs and he takes a greedy inhale of your scent. You are divine, intoxicating, sweet and musky. It’s all too much for him, he feels like he could lose himself completely to you.

He laps at you like a man who’s been in the desert for ages and you are his oasis. Your nectar dribbles on his lips and tongue, making him moan as he tastes you so fervently. Kyojuro expertly pulls two orgasms from you with just his mouth alone. Then he settles himself on his knees, ready to push into you.

The stretch is delicious and leaves you feeling full. He kisses away all your tears, praising you for taking him so well. Both of you are unable to last long now that you’re making love, and your orgasm makes him tumble over the edge quickly. 

Soft kisses and whispered words of praise are what end the first night as a newlywed couple, and when you awake the next day, you see the man you adore in the shining light of the sun peeking through the curtains.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he says, his heart heavy with love.

You kiss his lips. “I’d never give up on you. Because you’ve never given up on me.”

#bacon.writes #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x y/n #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x you #kny kyojuro #kny kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kyojuro x reader smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyōjurō #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #demon slayer smut

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.5

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin and the guys are granted a break, but that still didn’t give him any hope that he could actually fix things between you and him - but that also didn’t stop him from trying.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.6K FOLLOWERS

Anakin was sitting quietly on the couch as he half listened to Theo and Helena talk at the table on the bus. 

They had been discussing something in hushed whispers for a while now, but Anakin still had no idea what they were talking about. He couldn’t focus on anything right now as he scrolled through the text thread he has with you, his expression one of misery and agony. 

He knew you were back in LA by now. You had to be. You were probably packing your things as he sits and lets his eyes flicker between his bandmate and manager. 

Anakin had left you so many messages by now, and you haven’t replied to a single one. He felt pathetic and worthless, and he hated himself. 

He dropped his phone with a huff, instead deciding to trace his index finger along your handwriting on his wrist. It can’t be over between the two of you. It just couldn’t be. You were everything to him, his entire world. How was he supposed to do this without you? 

“Helena, please, just a few weeks,” Theo begged, and Helena sighed as she rubbed her forehead harshly. “My sister just told me that our mom is getting worse. I can’t let her go through that by herself anymore. I can’t not be there for them anymore. Please.”

Anakin’s mood deteriorated further at his friend’s pleas, and he wished there was something he could do for Theo, but he can’t even fix his own mess. “I know, Theo, I know,” Helena mumbled, standing up and rummaging around in her bag. “I’ve been trying to get this thing pushed back ever since you know who decided to touch broody over there.”

The not so subtle dig had Anakin rolling his eyes and picking at the threads on the blanket he threw over his lap. “Well, can you?” Theo asked desperately. “Get it pushed back? Just a few weeks. I need to be there if my mom-” he cut himself off as he refused to say it out loud. 

Anakin felt tears prick at his eyes as he stared at the floor. His heart ached for Theo, and it ached even worse for you. How had things gotten this bad? Just to make things that much more tragic, it seems like Clara and Vinny’s relationship was on its way out, too. She had left last night on a flight back home, and Vinny hasn’t been out of bed ever since. 

Seriously, how the fuck had things gotten this bad?

Helena looked at Theo with poorly concealed pity, and she sighed as she ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, Liz’s contract will end soon, and I think I’ll be able to get the next few weeks pushed back, so she won’t be welcomed back on the tour once things go back to normal,” she started, sitting back down at the table and looking between Theo and Anakin. “So that might help fix his problem.”

She gestured over to Anakin, and he just scoffed, wondering why she was talking about him like he wasn’t sitting less than three feet from her. 

“I think I can have all of you on flights back home by the end of the week, I just need to make a few calls,” she stated and Anakin’s scowl disappeared almost instantly. 

“What?” He asked in disbelief as Theo made a beeline to his bunk to begin packing. “Really?”

Helena nodded, flipping through a notebook with various names and phone numbers in it. She was old fashioned that way, despite being not much older than Anakin. “Don’t quote me on that, but I think I can do it,” 

Anakin sprung up, the blanket falling to the floor as he pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he rasped, aware that she might not be able to get the tour pushed back, but she was going to try, and that’s what counted. “I owe you. For everything.”

Helena huffed quietly, pulling away to look him in the eye. “We’re a team, Anakin. You guys are like my family at this point,” she murmured and Anakin felt more tears gather in his eyes. “You know I’ll try to do anything I can for you three.”

“I know,” he whispered, “Still, thank you.” 

The next morning, after Anakin got about an hour and a half of sleep, he was waiting anxiously to hear if Helena had managed to get the tour postponed. He was sure Theo had been up all night, too, if the way he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his bunk across from Anakin’s was anything to go by. 

When she announced that she was able to push the tour back a few weeks, Anakin booked the first flight back to LA and had Theo beside him on the plane. Vinny was in no rush to go back, so he decided to stay behind for a few more days. 

Anakin had sent you a quick text before he boarded the plane, which read, 

I’m coming home. I’m going to fix everything, I promise, Princess. I love you so much. 

And when he got into an Uber after the flight, he saw that you had read his text, but didn’t reply. That was the first text of his that you had read, and as pathetic as it sounded, it gave him hope. 

Theo was in the car with him since they had decided to ride together. He lived a few minutes away from yours and Anakin’s apartment, so he would be dropped off after Anakin. He didn’t even care that Theo would involuntarily be listening to the voicemail Anakin is forced to leave you as you had once again ignored his call. “Baby, it’s me,” he started, glancing over at his friend and feeling grateful for the way Theo turned his body towards the window so Anakin could have at least a little bit of privacy in the car. “I’m ten minutes away from our place. I’m so sorry, for everything.”

He ended it after that, even though he had so much more to say. He wanted to save himself the embarrassment of pouring his heart out to you over the phone, just to have you delete it without even listening to it. 

When the car pulled up outside the apartment complex, Anakin reached over and hugged Theo. “I hope things get better for you and Mary and your mom,” he mumbled, hearing Theo sniff quietly in response as he tried to hold off tears. “Text me if you need anything, okay? I mean it.”

Theo nodded and pulled away. “Same to you,” he says with a forced smile. “Y/n will forgive you. You’ve been together for too long to just give up on it now.” 

Anakin returned a half smile, squeezing his friend’s shoulder before grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. He watched it pull away from the curb as his hand dug around in his bag for his keys, and he almost cried when he finally found them. He hadn’t used them in so long, and he was hit with the memory of the last time he was here. It was the day he left for the tour with you by his side. 

If he could go back and do it again but better, he would in a heartbeat. But he couldn’t. He just had to deal with the consequences now. 

Anakin blinked a few times as he entered the lobby and headed right over to the elevators, taking one all the way up to the fifteenth floor as he tried to think of what to say to you. 

Would you even be there? Did you read his last text and flee the second he got on that plane? God, he hoped not. 

He was a shaky, sweaty mess as he reached the floor you and he lived on, and his nerves were slowly taking over as he neared the door. Anakin couldn’t believe how nervous he was about entering his own apartment and facing you, the girl he’s loved for five years now. It had never been like that with you. Ever.

As he stuck the key in the lock and turned it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He hadn’t seen you since that night in the dressing room nearly four days ago. He had so much to make up for, so much to apologize for, and he could only hope that you would listen.

When he pushed the door open and stepped inside the quiet apartment, his heart fell at how dark it was. He was sure you weren’t home and hadn’t been for a while, but then he heard some movement to his left, and he dropped his bag instantly and entered the living room. “Princess,” he whispered when he saw you sitting on the couch, your old Uni hoodie covering your upper half while a blanket covered the rest of you. 

Your hair was tied back and your eyes were sad and empty, and when you looked up at him, you dropped your phone onto your lap with a quiet huff. “Oh, you actually were ten minutes away,” you mumbled. “I thought you were lying.”

Anakin shook his head as he scanned the dark living room. It looked like you had been living in here since you got home. Water bottles, your mugs he teased you about on the day you moved in, and cracker boxes were scattered on the coffee table he and Vinny put together. “Why…why would I lie about that?” He rasped, stepping further into the room. “Why would I lie to you?”

You tore your eyes away from him and shrugged. “Because you’ve done it before,” you simply answered, looking back up at him with tears in your eyes. “You said you loved me. And that I was the person you wanted forever.”

“Baby,” he gasped and made it over to you in three strides. 

“Why are you home, Anakin?” You asked, making him stop a few centimeters away from the couch. And you. “Why are you here?”

Anakin felt hopeless and on edge. How was he supposed to fix this when he didn’t know where to start? “Because I love you. And I want you forever. Just you,” he answered. “I never lied about that.”

You bite down onto your lip and reach up to wipe at your eyes with your sleeves. “Um, Kenneth read my short story. I finished it on the flight back to London,” you tell him and he stood still, letting you say what you needed to. “He loved it. Um, he wants to get it published.”

“Y/n,” he said quietly, feeling so proud of you even though he was also feeling terrified. “That’s awesome, baby.”

You drop your hand onto your lap and look up at him with a heartbroken expression. “It’s about you,” you confess. “About us. About…how much I love you and…it’s our story, Anakin.”

Anakin’s shoulders dropped at that. You were so sweet and kind and too fucking good for him. He never deserved you. “Then publish it,” he mumbled, his own eyes welling up with tears. 

“I can’t,” you cry, covering your face with your hands. “It’s too much. It reminds me of us too much, and I don’t even know what we are anymore.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, unsure of what to say to that. How does he make this better? “I’m yours,” was all he could come up with. “Even if you’re not mine anymore.” 

Those words physically pained him to say, and they only made you more upset. “Fuck, Ani,” your voice broke as you called him the name he only ever let you call him. “Why are you back?”

Anakin cleared his throat and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Theo’s mom…she got worse and they don’t know if she’ll be okay or if she’ll make it,” he whispered, knowing that his friend wouldn’t be mad he told you that. Theo was your friend, too, after all. 

Your eyes widened at that and you sat up, sniffling as you began looking for your phone. “That’s…that..” you trailed off as you lifted the blanket and grabbed your phone. “I should call him. I should..call him and..” 

You were becoming less and less in control of yourself, and Anakin could see the way you were getting yourself worked up. “Hey,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist as you started to stand up. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whispered and he saw tears roll down your face again. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you? What could I have done?”

A broken gasp left his lips and Anakin fell onto the couch next to you, pulling your body into his arms as you cried against his neck. “You’re enough,” he promised, cradling the back of your head and holding you tight. “You’re more than enough. Baby, you’re…you’re everything to me. My whole world. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did, for what I allowed to happen.”

You cried harder against him, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your fists. 

“I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve been there to support you,” he mumbled against the top of your head. “I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve done. I’m sorry if you feel like you can’t bring yourself to get your story published because of me. I don’t want you to hold yourself back because of me.”

You cling onto him and lift your head. “I don’t know what to do, Ani,” you sobbed. “Please, tell me what I should do. Please.”

He could see just how much you needed help, and how you needed to be guided right now. And he would help you for as long as you needed, even if it ended up with you kicking him out afterwards. “What will make you feel better? Do you want me to leave? I can give you some space or time or-”

“No, I don’t want that,” you shake your head and crawl onto his lap. 

“What do you want, princess?” He desperately asked. “What can I do?”

“I want things to go back to how they were,” you cried. “I want to feel like I did before when I look at you. It hurts, Ani. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Tears fell from his eyes and landed in your hair as he held you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You were shaking against him and he felt terrible. This was all his fault. “I want to hurt her,” you mumbled. “I hate her. I fucking hate her, Ani. I hate her for what she did to you.” 

“I hate her, too,” he pathetically agreed and you lift your head. 

“What are we going to do, Anakin?” 

He lifted his hand and smoothed out your messy hair, trailing his thumb down to your lip afterwards. “That depends,” he murmured. “Do you still want me? Could you ever forgive me?” 

You brace your hands on his shoulders and nod. “Maybe…eventually,” you answer. “I still want you.”

A breath of relief left his mouth, but he still wasn’t happy with himself. “I’m back home for a couple weeks, and I’m going to spend every single day making this up to you,” he promised. 

“Then you’re back on tour?” You quietly asked and looked down. “With her?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Helena said something about pressing charges before I came here, and I might go through with it. She won’t be there, I promise. She’ll never be around me or you or us again.” 

“Do it,” you encourage, grabbing the hair on the back of his neck with shaky fingers. “I don’t want her near you ever again. I hate her so much.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” his lips curved upwards just slightly as he gently massaged your hips. “That was quite the nose job you gave her.”

You laugh quietly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I need to know that it was a mistake, Anakin,” you went back to being serious. “If you felt anything for her, even a little bit at all, I’m out.”

Anakin panicked and shook his head. “Never. I never felt anything for her,” he assured you. “She means nothing to me at all. You’re my girl, the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. I’ve known that since I was seventeen years old.”

You nod, trailing your fingers through his hair. “You promise?” You asked and he nodded instantly. “Okay…okay. Ani, these next couple weeks…I need this to be okay. Maybe not completely fixed, but…okay.”

“I’ll fix everything,” he swore, pulling you against his body again. “I promise you, I’m going to make everything okay again. I love you so much. I always will, you’re it for me. My one and only.”

You give him a small smile, tracing your fingers along his cheek before leaning up and kissing his jaw. “I love you,” 

Hearing you say that had his heart skipping a beat. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix this,”

Anakin kisses you all over your face before letting you sit in his lap for as long as you wanted to.

It wasn’t okay, what he did. He knew that. But he was going to make damn sure that he made everything right again. He had to.

-

Three weeks later…

Being back on stage after the brief break Anakin was given felt great. 

He loved being on stage, loved the lights and the screams of fans and the feeling he got from it all.

But it wasn’t what had him feeling so happy right now. 

Theo’s mom had pulled through and was getting better by the day, and was able to stay awake for most of the day now. When she regained control of her voice, she practically forced Theo to go back and finish the tour, and told him that she would be there when it was over. 

Vinny and Clara broke up, but are still friends, and Vinny decided to focus on music and the band. He had even started writing a few songs about the experience that he couldn’t wait to get out there. 

And as for Anakin, he was getting ready for a court date that was set for a few months from now. He did press charges against Liz, and though she claimed she was going to fight it, he knew he had a whole team behind him. There was no way she was winning this thing. 

And you. His sweet, beautiful and smart girlfriend. Well, he was gaining your trust back more and more as the days went on. You allowed Kenneth to send your story to his publisher, and it would be released by the end of the year. 

He was so proud of you, and when he began singing the first verse of Wrapped Around Your Finger, he glanced over to his right and saw you standing next to Helena backstage, a smile gracing your lips and the red rose he had given you before going on stage in your hand. He knew you were proud of him, too. 

And he knew things would be okay.

-

Goodbye, my Rockstar and Booknerd. Til we meet again.

Thank you to everyone who read and followed along with this series. I loved writing it so much ! And thank you to my sweets, @everydaydreamer for the original fic idea. Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?

#hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen gif #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen icons #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #star wars anakin #anakin star wars #anakin fanfiction #tcw anakin #sw anakin #anakin x you #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #rocker anakin skywalker #rocker anakin #wrapped around your finger au #wrapped around your finger

[spiderfunkz]

✧ NOT A LOT, JUST FOREVER.

summary : you create a memory that peter will remember forever.

word count : 0,5k

contains : tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, reader and peter go stargazing.

a/n : inspired by my number #1 favorite movie ever which is 'eternal sunshine of the spotless mind' !!! i love this scene with all my heart and i thought it'd be cute to make a blurb inspired by it 💕

the snow fell harsh.

peter never liked the cold. his sweaters were always too thin, or too thick, maybe too itchy and a little silly. he either loses one of his mittens or finds them ruined and dirty. and he never wore his beanie because he never wants to ruin his best quality— his hair.

you've always liked the cold. your sweaters were warm and hand knitted by one of your family members, your mittens fit perfectly in pairs, and you have an entire collection of beanies for every day of the week, decorated with pins and colorful clips.

there is also a reason why you liked the cold.

the hidden lake you've been going to since you were little freezes up. it's thick enough for you to walk on but slippery enough for you to fall.

you've gone ice skating there, made snowmen there, lost your boots there, and fell in there once, maybe twice. but you've never hated it. falling in cold ice gets you hot cocoa at the end! and a big headache.. and a sneezy nose..

but other than that you've loved it.

and you are so excited to share all of that with peter. even the headaches and sneezy noses.

"come on!"

you smile, peter holds your hand tightly as he steps on the ice for the first time. "it's very solid this time of year, don't worry."

"i'm not so sure about that." he's clinging to your arm, "come on, come on." you gesture.

"oh wow. i could see the city lights from here." peter grins, "pretty right?" you ask.

"very."

you don't notice peter's loving doe-eyes looking smiling at you and instead, you run into the middle of the lake before slipping.

"ow!"

"jeez, are you okay?" peter runs to you.

"you okay?" — "yeah i'm okay." you brush of the snow from your coat. "come on, now!" you gesture getting closer to the middle.

"i use to skate here sometimes. oh, we should do that sometimes!"

"i think i might cause the ice to crumble. and end up in 50 or so bruises." peter giggles, "i can teach you."

you give peter a smile before laying down on the ice, patting on the space beside you, gesturing for peter to follow along.

peter hesitates for a moment before following, "i think i heard a crack," he shook his head.

"it's not gonna break! or crack- it's so thick."

the stars shine above you. twinkling and glowing.

"show me which constellations you know."

"oh, i don't know any.." peter shrugs shyly, "yes you do! you took astronomy once!"

peter smiles, he pauses for a moment. "that's osidius," he points.

"where?" — "right there, see?" his cheek touched your cheek as he inched closer. "it's sort of a swoop and a cross. osidius the emphatic."

you smile and laugh.

"ooh look, that's us." peter points, "where?" you squint. peter takes your hand and slowly points in the direction of two stars.

"me, and you. you're the brighter one." peter says. "i'm the brighter one?" — "mhm, my bright, pretty, star."

#tasm #tasm x reader #tasm x you #tasm imagines #tasm imagine #tasm fluff #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker imagines #tasm!peter parker fluff #the amazing spider man #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spiderman fluff #peter parker blurb #andrew garfield!peter parker #tasm andrew garfield

[neoflect]

sharing some of my disorganized jojo musical thoughts now that ive had a week to sit on it and ive rewatched it several times over. i intended to wait to publish something like this until a subtitled version was available, but im not seeing any indication that thats happening any time soon so for now youll have to deal with my loose interpretations from my extremely rudimentary and rusty japanese… so take what i have to say about the finer points of characterization with a grain of salt. gratuitous spoilers below obviously, both for the original source material and the changes made in the stage production

my feelings are OVERWHELMINGLY positive. of course there are things i can criticize or that i would have personally done differently but oh man… i have literally not thought about anything besides this fucking show for a week. im 100% confident in saying this is a better adaptation of the source material than the tv anime. sorry to the davidpro staff, i respect their hard work and their love for jojo and their dedication to what is by any metric a pretty difficult property to adapt off of the page, but i dont know if i can ever forgive them for leaving half of the first episode’s storyboard on the cutting room floor in order to fit a standard half-hour tv slot, especially considering that what they cut is some of the really crucial character-building stuff. happily those scenes are not only reproduced in the stage version, some of them are expanded upon!

with the quick disclaimer that i’ve only managed to get my hands on the final 4/14 performance with shotaro arisawa and yoshihisa higashiyama, from what i’ve seen the casting is perfect. i’m sure there’s a rip of the 4/13 performance somewhere (i’ve seen clips) but i haven’t been able to find one… every single performer knocks it out of the fucking park, the cast chemistry is incredible and even the minor characters are loaded with charisma. and mamoru miyano… my god… mamoru miyano i owe you an apology. i was not familiar with your game. of course hes been killing it for decades at this point but i had soured on him a little bit recently because i felt like he was overcast in everything and i just didnt connect with his dnt reinhard at all, so when the casting was initially announced back in august i was underwhelmed, and of course my standards for the dio role in particular were astronomically high… i’ll go more into detail later in the post because i have so so many things to say about dio’s characterization here but mamoru miyano’s performance is like, life-changing. i had impossible expectations and he exceeded them.

sorry if im gushing. i am a hater by nature. its unusual for me to be so thoroughly pleased with something. im not even a musical theater guy. these are strange new feelings for me.

just to balance things out i’ll talk about a couple of the things that didn’t really work for me: first of all, the music is just ok. my initial draft of this post called the music “bad” but three additional viewings later i have warmed up to some of the songs. i don’t know if this is a shortcoming by dove attia as the composer or if it’s just me, as i said i’m not a musical guy and a lot of the genre conventions of musical theatre are not really the things i look for in music that i enjoy, but like… even at their worst they are serviceable. nothing here is sonically unpleasant to me. high points are “resolve of the ripple” (zeppeli’s hamon training song, a jazzy swing number - it’s simply catchy and fun to listen to) and the closer “phantom blood” (a sweeping ballad that reprises the earlier “light and darkness”/”golden spirit” leitmotifs into an epic duet between jonathan and dio as they join hands and walk off into the darkness together… made me cry! i wont lie! on every single one of my numerous viewings this one got me misty eyed!)

wait i forgot this is supposed to be the part where i’m being critical. ok my most loathed song in the musical is “dio’s world”. sorry dio nation. it doesn’t really work for me. i think this might be a case of my standards/expectations being too impossibly high because it’s not even really the worst song in the whole thing. and of course miyano eats it up so it’s not really his fault. i just find it kind of underwhelming… i find the melody a little grating, it’s kind of just a generic rock number, it’s just missing a particular je ne sais quoi…. the essence of dio isn’t there… lyrically though i am obsessed with the premise of dio recruiting his minions by selling himself as a kind of social revolutionary who is upending and inverting the brutal hierarchy of post-industrial victorian society with zombie blood magic. you win some you lose some.

the second sticking point for me is the costumes. they’re perfectly serviceable… adequate… but i mean when it comes to jojo “serviceable” and “adequate” costume design obviously falls well below what’s expected, right? a lot of the outfits have kind of a boxy, almost flat-looking kind of unflattering fit on the actors, which if i wanted to be generous i could attribute to the challenge of bridging the gap between these frail slender musical theater twinks and the two-meter-tall 250lb roided-out beefcakes theyre meant to be embodying. (bearing this discrepancy in mind a lot of the insane martial arts stuff in the second act doesn’t really land with the oomph that it should, but i also understand logistically why this kind of casting is not practical, and all things considered i think shotaro arisawa does a really incredible job of embodying jonathan joestar even though he kind of looks like i could snap him in half over my knee like a twig. he’s very cute. so i’m not mad about it.) of course, again, logistically, i understand that in a stage musical production, where actors only have minutes to complete costume changes, some sacrifices have to be made to the creative vision in the name of practicality. nevertheless this is jojos bizarre adventure!! i want to see some fucking baubles!!!!!!

which is all to say that… after carefully considering it for some weeks… i still have extremely mixed feelings about dio’s grink ass feather bathrobe look. it’s not that i dont think its something he could wear (the concept of dio lounging around in his gothic vampire palace doing re-animator style body horror experiments on the local wildlife in this “officer i have no idea what happened to my husband”-ass nightgown is nothing short of hysterical to me) but then he wears it into combat and i felt a little disappointed… it has the same unflattering fit issue as the other outfits in the show, and it is just such an un-araki-like design… where are the gaudy color combinations? the bizarre geometric patterns? the tease of an exposed boob/thigh/midriff? erina gets a stage-original dress design that i have fewer issues with because the excessive pleats and ruffles have more of an araki-esque sensibility, but every time i look at dio’s robe it feels like there’s something missing.  i’m going to choose to be nice about it because it’s not at all a deal breaker and, again, mamoru miyano devours the look. it’s fine. it’s always fun to have a new dio outfit. if anything, the fact that the blu-rays are being marketed as “2024 cast version” gives me hope for the possibility of a future production with a new vision for the costume design. (although the fact that this was such a difficult production - with stunts and pyrotechnics and moving setpieces - that its entire first week was cancelled indicates to me that the prospects for a future production from a different company are impossibly slim. i guess there’s always hope?)

in terms of the writing and the changes that were made from the original narrative, honestly i don’t really have an issue with anything that was cut. sorry if there are any diehard stans of Poco’s Unnamed Sister out there who are steamed that their favorite minor late phantom blood character got the axe, i kind of understand how you feel because i’ve been malding over david pro cutting the Danny Lore for eleven years, but i think it was the right choice and the story flows so much better. the real juicy meat at the core of phantom blood as a narrative and the thing that brings it head and shoulders above so much of the rest of jjba is the character-driven drama - that deliciously pulpy victorian gothic family tragedy - and the relationship between jonathan and dio. the musical beefs up the character drama and slims down the action-driven second half by trimming out the extraneous battles. the only real downside i see to this is that the absence of tompetty and his prophecy makes zeppeli’s arc and death feel INSANELY abrupt, but tbf that’s not a deal breaker for me. sorry zeppeli. you were born to die.

okay. okay. i think 1500 words into the post is enough fucking around so let’s talk about the real reason why you and i both know we’re here

musical dio is SO fucking sad. he’s positively wretched, you guys. he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone and forced to eat cement when he was six. he cries even more than he does in the source material and even when he’s not crying he frequently delivers his lines as though he is moments away from bursting into tears. back when the musical first opened i was snooping on the reactions on jpn twitter and one commenter said they could see miyano’s tears and snot from the nosebleeds even without opera glasses, a remark i initially assumed was hyperbole but that i now think probably was not. araki’s dio is certainly tortured and a deeply pathetic crybaby beneath all the cruelty and posturing, but changes in the musical and miyano’s embodiment of the character bring this pathos to the fore. he is literally haunted: dario’s ghost lingers, a manifestation of all of dio’s traumas and insecurities that emerges from the recesses of his memory to taunt him with the reminder that he will always be his father’s son, all the way up until the very minute that jonathan breaks down the door to his vampire lair. i am OBSESSED with this - not only for the obvious reason that i delight in dio’s suffering personally but also because kong kuwata is a delight and he fucking kills it every time. also lends itself to a category 10 leitmotif moment at the top of the second act when dio emerges from the charred ruins of the joestar estate singing dario’s theme and calling out to jonathan - if i had to pinpoint this is probably the moment when this musical stuck for me as the Real Deal. they Get It.

the first solo number in the show is dio’s disney princess I Want song (amazingly, simply titled “dio”) where he weeps for his late mother and his wretched lot in life, and then - in a creative decision that made me clap my hands and hoot and holler at my screen in real life - there is a reprise of this number (delivered, naturally, through tears) when dio is almost arrested for murder and decides to become a vampire instead. so there’s this amazing hopeful uplifting inspirational orchestral music accompanying the onstage action of dio ruthlessly slaying jonathan’s dad and then getting pumped full of lead by a bunch of cops. it is brilliant. 10/10 no notes. it’s moments like this that i think really sell the “softening” of dio in the stage version for me, even though i am historically Not A Fan of fanworks that take a similar angle - like, yes, he is sad, but specifically he is narcissistically obsessed with the spectacle of his own suffering, he is boiling over with bitterness and rage for everyone around him who (by his own estimation) could never hope to have suffered as much as he has. this sensitivity and self-pity he wallows in are not expressions of a guilty conscience or a desire to change - they’re entirely the opposite - every cruel and monstrous deed dio commits is always justified to himself because he is simply the saddest little boy who has ever existed. he has been done wrong by the world and so there is no limit to the depravity he may reasonably respond with. i’ve seen several commenters describe this as a drastically different interpretation of the character from araki’s dio (and someone told me on twitter that mamoru miyano himself has also said this, but i cba to go digging for an actual source so take it with a grain of salt?), but i… dont think thats the case! dio’s obsession with his own weakness and his self-perception as the eternal underdog (as compared to jonathan) are certainly more exaggerated in miyano’s performance, but i don’t think this is an angle to the character that’s been manufactured out of whole cloth. the genre conventions of the stage musical force the melodrama up to eleven and dio’s incredibly repressed angst is the most rich vein to mine for that. hair-trigger sadist dio is still here, it’s the same guy, he’s still killing people mercilessly, you’re just getting to see him sing a big ballad about his feelings instead of confining those to an internal monologue.

if anything, the exaggeration of dio’s pathetic/cowardly/crybaby traits combined with his megalomaniacal aspirations and bottomless well of cruelty is just right. it’s perfect. fucking around, finding out, and then trying to weasel his way out of the consequences with crocodile tears just so you don’t see him drawing his knife to cut you clean open… yeah. thats the stuff. thats my one true blorbo. sad to say i will love him for ten thousand years.

i think that might be all i have to say… or at least all i feel like saying here… most likely ill come back and edit this post later. i certainly have some additional thoughts and some more esoteric/controversial takes but they’re not suited for a public blog. real ones will understand. im keeping my eyes peeled for somebody to translate this thing but to be frank i am kind of enjoying this little corner of fandom as it is right now: just the asians and the true hardcore phantom blood phreaks. i have not had this much fun in jojo fandom in almost a fucking decade. as soon as somebody publishes an english version my timelines going to get flooded with all the most deeply annoying “kono dio da” “speedwagon waifu” reddit guys and 15 year olds and my suffering will proceed. unfortunately this is my lot in life and i am doomed to be here forever because dio put a worm in my brain

#⚰️ #jjba tag for blacklisting purposes but i dont want this in the main tag

[rexlroze]

𝟐 — 𝐃𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, No physical description of reader other than mostly height comparison. Swearing, Mention of alcohol, drinking, vomiting, Fluff.

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

A/N: I honestly had to rethink this over and over again so many times even though I was like half way thru the damn chapter so that's why making this took me long, also the fact I have the attention span of a child. I was really not sure about this whole thing cuz it kinda felt too sudden but hopefully, it turned out fine? for me it did tbh but like. *blink* yk? Or maybe it's just because I'm not confident in my fucking writing skills and need validation for every damn step I take<3 But anyways, I made half of the notes for this chapter during math class and the teacher caught me so that too (Spoiler Alert: I got sent to the principal's office :3) but that's besides the point. Also if some of the characters were a little OOC, I'm very sorry- I tried my best to make them as accurate as possible (some inaccurate shit tends to get on my nerve, mostly if it's produced by me) annnnd I need to stop ranting💀. I don't take requests nor do I plan on doing so in the future. Happy reading! 😉

Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3

Each Stroke of paint is smooth, filling the wall with a little more color than before. The bristles of the paint brush gently swipes over the wall. Music flowed into your ears and through, making you hum.

The atmosphere was calming, like nothing could ever—

“Whatcha listenin’ to?” A teasing voice appeared beside you making you jump and your shoulder tense up.

Right. You forgot he was still here. Pushing your headphones off, “a song.” You answered flatly, turning away from him, your back facing Hobie as you dipped your paint brush into the thick minty liquid that was within the metal bucket and slid the brush across the wall.

“Really? I'll have to check it out when I get home.”

You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone.

After yesterday, he helped you with a little cleaning. You thought he was probably going to dip and disappear from your life after that so when he returned the next day (today), it did surprise you a little. He's been just hanging around. You don't know why, he doesn't owe you anything. “Why are you helping me again?” You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Mate, you've asked me that like 4 times already.” 

“And each time, I haven't gotten a proper answer.”

This time, he's the one to scoff. “Is it that bad to want to just help somebody?”

“You're dodging the question again.” You say in a sing-song voice.

He holds his hands up in surrender, “aight aight. I'm just tryna help out a friend of a friend, y'know? Plus. I ain't' hurtin’ anyone, right?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it means, love.”

You sighed, your arm falling to your side. Your other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “okay. I'll admit, I'm being a little… douchey.” You say, biting your lip, “But I can't say that I don't appreciate your help, and company.”

“Little's an understatement.” Hobie quipped, snickering to himself which made you throw a side glance in his direction. An innocent smile spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes turning back to the wall to continue what you were doing. Hobie took it as a sign to pursue his side of the wall.

A small spot was left just at the top of the wall making you push yourself up on your tiptoes, trying to get to the empty white patch on top of the wall.

Hobie, who was distracted by his own work, took a glance at you when he heard a few groans of frustration. Seeing you so frustrated over such a small thing brought a small smirk to his face. He settled his brush down into the paint bucket and made his way to you, your head turning to him when you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye extending his hand, beckoning for you to give him the brush you held.

You raised your eyebrow but gave in, settling the brush into his extended hand, your fingers grazing his palm before you quickly withdrew your hand to your side.

He stepped forward closer to you and the wall, making you step back away, giving him space as he took care of the last white spot on the wall. 

“Thank you,” you gave him a small smile and a nod.

“No problem.” He returned the smile. You two stood there holding eye contact. His eyes were as pretty as they were in the poster. No. Prettier. You thought, why? You didn't know. 

You quickly cleared your throat and looked away to look at your progress the two of you had made whilst he sunk the paint brush back into the depths of the mint paint after filling the small white spot with paint.

The two of you had already completed three walls, the last wall was just about half done. The only other thing left to paint was the closet, you'd get to that later.

“You wanna go get a drink?” Hobie suddenly asked, turning his head towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather vest.

You rubbed a hand over your jaw, the thought of a break was very enticing right about now since you'd been busy for about a solid 4-5 hours. You answered after a second or two of silence. “Sure. I could use a little break.”

“Good cuz I know an awesome pub around here.”

“Lead the way.” You said extending your arm towards the door.

—

The two of you walked side by side, Hobie’s gaze fixed on the rock he kept kicking in front of him during your walk, yours lost in the sky that was split into hues of yellow and pink.

“So, I haven't really seen you around here before.” Hobie suddenly spoke up after his rock companion got left behind, a small pout formed on his face which disappeared as quickly as it appeared when it did but obviously he wasn't going back just to retrieve a rock.

“Just moved here about a few days ago, used to live in York with my parents.” You answered, crossing one of your arms behind your head.

“Hm.” He nodded before silence fell over the two of you again, seems neither of you knew what to say. Your eyes lingered on the sky, watching the purple mixing into the pink and orange.

This time, you decided to break the silence. “So, where are we going?” Your head turned towards him, tilting your head a little.

“It's a surprise.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“It's a bar.”

“Your point?”

“I mean, how ‘exciting’ can a bar really be?” You snorted.

“Depends, you ever been in an underground pub?”

“No— say what now?” You gawked, turning to Hobie with wide eyes who just smirked and lifted his chin. When he didn't continue elaborating further, you decided to poke at the subject. “Wait, c'mon. You gotta tell me more.”

Chuckling, he let out a low whistle. “No, I don't.” 

“You can't just tell me we're going to an underground bar then shut up. Like- what if I get kidnapped or sumn?” You exaggerated, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I'll be right there beside you, love, won't even let anyone lay a hand. Good?” He proposed, playfully tilting his head a little.

“You're torturing me.” You groaned.

“Maybe that's my plan.” He shrugged, flicking invisible lint off his jacket.

“...”

“How do I know you're not the one who's trying to kidnap me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Doesn't it seem oddly weird you just randomly appear at my parlor, offer me help and now you're taking me to a very secret underground bar.”

As Hobie heard you ramble on, he couldn't help but start to chuckle. His chuckle twisting into a flown blown laugh as you threw a playful punch in his shoulder.

“Tell me. You have trust issues or something?” He chuckled, wiping an unshed tear from his eye. “Just have a little patience. It'll be worth it, I promise. I mean, you can always go back if you’re too paranoid.”

“Hilarious.”

“I'm being serious, I can walk you back right now if you'd like.” He offered, slowing down.

Your lips parted as you thought about it for a quick second before shaking your head. “Nah, no thank you. I'm coming along.”

“Hm, suit yourself.” He shrugged looking back to the front of the street. Your footsteps falling in sync with one another once more.

Silence taking over, punctuated by the honking motorcycles and cars and the birds chirping.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Twelve minutes later, the both of you stood before an abandoned 2 storey office building. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades with its cracked windows which reflected the creamy moonlight. Graffiti turned the concrete structure into a riot of colors, doodles, swear words and penises with overgrown vines that clawed their way up the sides. 

As Hobie strode towards the door, his hand inches away from pushing the door when you suddenly spoke up, “it's in there?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He said turning his head towards you, “I know it don’ look it but I promise it's on purpose. Keeps the coopers away.”

“Ehh… I don't know. I'm starting to believe the whole “you're trying to kidnap me” thing.” Skepticism traced your voice.

“Oh, c’mon. Just trust me.”

“That's what I'm scared to do.” You scoffed. “This looks like a place where serial killers would stuff their victims in.”

“Dunno, never tried digging around. Two bodies at best?” He analyzed jokingly, covering up his laugh with a cough as he saw you pale a little. 

“You're not funny.”

“Dunno ‘bout that, love.” He snickered. “You comin’?” He didn't wait for you to answer before he disappeared into the building.

You crossed your arms tapping your foot, not wanting to follow him in because of your stubbornness but something about standing alone sent chills down your spine.

I'm gonna kill him. You quickly sprinted into the office-like building following Hobie's direction, running away from something you don't even know.

You find yourself walking behind Hobie who walks up to an elevator across the room. The walls were crumbling, chairs laidon the floor, tables flipped upside down “Why the hell is this place so run down?”

“It's a meeting ground made by the government, basically all the corrupted and secret shit that they wanted no one knowing happened around here but word got out. Eventually punks started graffiting the grounds, protesting, sneaking in and eventually drove them out to who knows where. Started using it as a club and a speakeasy after cuz it was spacious grounds. Coopers don’ blink an eye towards this direction cuz they're bloody cowards.” He casually explains (leaving out the part where he whooped their asses and corrupted all their data with a chip he made as Spider-Punk but you didn't need to know that.) 

He pressed a few buttons which opened up the elevator doors. Wordlessly, he gestured to you to get in.

“And you know this how?” You lifted an eyebrow climbing into the elevator, he followed suit.

When you asked that, it brought a proud smile to Hobie's face, “I was one of the punks.” He answered nonchalantly without glancing at you, the pockets of his leather vest stuffed with his hands. The elevator door slid back together locking the both of you in.

“Of course you were,” you said it like it was one of the most obvious things in the world for which you got a little nudge in the shoulder from his elbow. He pressed a button on a small keypad beside the door making the elevator flow down.

The elevator finally stopped making a small chiming sound after what seemed like minutes but in reality. It had been barely more than 40 seconds. Guess time just slowed down when you're in the presence of awkward silence… or Hobie.

The doors opened up letting bright neon lights seep in and illuminate your face. The ‘bar’ (which looked more like a rave) was more lively than most bars you've gone to. Vibrant blends of pink, blue, and yellow casted over you.

“W'dya think?” A voice shouted over the blasting songs, Hobie's voice. You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to make up a coherent response. “You'll get used to it.” He nudged you before stepping out the elevator, signaling for you to follow him.

You shook yourself out of your daze and promptly caught up with him. You swore to god you've put way too much trust in someone you met a day ago. Maybe not even a complete 24 hours yet but you're too deep in and too stubborn to turn around.

“You come here often then?” You arched an eyebrow in his direction, his gaze straight ahead but he tilted his head a little to meet yours.

“Occasionally. Usually—” He was cut off by someone who called out to him in the crowd. “Yo, it's Hobie everyone!”

People glanced in your (his) direction, waving at him and cheering him on. Said man waves back, winking in the direction of a few gals who probably fainted with how excited they got but you didn't bother checking.

“Mr.Popular, huh?”

“That's one way to put it. I come here to hang out often so I know people.”

“Do you usually take all your girls here?” You suddenly blurted out, heat clawed its way up your neck when you processed what you just had said. He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress the shit-eating grin that came onto his face. “Shut up, I didn't mean it like that.” You grumbled, turning your head away from him. 

“I didn't say anything,” he shrugged, feigning obliviousness. 

“You implied it.”

“Did I?”

Something about his tone just wanted to make you sink into the floor and become one with the secretundergroundbarraveparty (whatever it was) or maybe punch that stupid smile off his face but you didn't do either. Instead you continued making your way through the crowd with him until you reached a bar. Several drinks lined up on several shelves behind the counter. You could tell that it wasn't just some cheap liquor crap either. It made you wonder where they had gotten it from.

He sat down on one of the stools, locking eyes with you before patting the stool beside him. Before you could say anything, your body moved on its own, settling yourself on the stool. Nobody else was really seated near your guys, most of the people were already drunk and partying.

Hobie leaned back against nothing but the air particles, his eyes resting on you when you stirred a little, turning to face him, “what?” you tilted your head.

“Nothin’, just thinking.” He gave you one of his small smiles before his attention averted to the raven-haired girl that walked through one of the doors that was hidden behind the counter. Her eyes fell on the two of you making them pop open, “are my eyes deceiving me or are those my most favorite people? Y/N, you didn't tell me you were in town!” She beamed.

“Yuri?” Your eyes harmonized hers. “I was gonna surprise you but… wait, what're you doing here?”

“Me? I work here, babe. The real question is what are the two of you doing here, hmm?” Yuri gaped, leaning against the counter. Her arms crossed over it.

“He dragged me into this.” You said pointing your thumb at the man beside you, making him gasp dramatically, “nah nah, I see how it is.” He drawled, turning his head away from you.

“Drama queen.” You accused, punched him in his bicep. The two of you acted like you had known each other for years by now.

“Ooh, you two must be close.” Yuri cooed, tilting her head, her cheek squished up against her hand as she watched the two of you interact.

“We met yesterday,” you scoffed, turning down any further suggestions that she could blurt out.

“Is that supposed to make a difference?” Yuri sassed, wiping a glass mug down with a cloth that was under the counter.

“Yuri.” Your eyebrows knitted together making her smirk, “what? I'm being serious.” She smirked.

“If this is you being serious, I don't wanna know what you being unserious is like.” Yuri snickered, placing two mugs in front of the two of you. Her body twisted around pulling out one of the alcoholic drinks out of the shelf and shaking the bottle before pouring it into your glass. “So darling, how've you been, how's Camden treating you so far?” She asked, pushing the two mugs across the counter towards you too.

“It's been alright. I've been working on my parlor recently. Otherwise… nothing special. Oh, Spider-Punk also saved my brain from spewing out like three days ago so that's something,” You shrugged when you suddenly heard Hobie choke on his drink, his beer going down the wrong pipe making him cough harshly. You and Yuri raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“Bloody hell. Sorry, this- this drink is really strong,” He sputtered, clearing his throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes.

“Okay…” Your tone contained skepticism in it, “you good now?” You asked to which he nodded. “Fantastic.”

You nodded, turning back to Yuri. A silence washing over the three of you even with the blast of music and chitter chatter in the back.

Yuri opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it when she heard the door squeak open. A brunette walked through, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the counter. “Hey!”

“Flash!” Yuri squeaked, her eyebrows knitting together. “You're not supposed to drink during your fucking shift!”

“Bloody hell. Chill, mom.” He rolled his eyes, voice awfully slurred leaning his hip against the counter but miserably failing after almost falling.

“Ay,” Hobie lifted his head in a greeting while you sat beside him thinned-lipped.

“Oh my god. Hobie, is that you my man?” Flash exclaimed, throwing his arms out in a hug but unable to reach him due to the counter that separated them so going for a high-wave instead that he missed by a head.

“The one and only,” Hobie snickered, grabbing Flash's wrist and guiding him through the high five properly.

Flash clicked his tongue, turning his head towards you, “Ooh, and who's this pretty little thing?” He smirked, grabbing your hand that laid atop the counter and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile, retracting your hand. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but Hobie beat you to it. “Y/N Y/L/N. We met yesterday.”

“What he said,” you dipped your chin in agreement.

“A pretty name for a prettier lady,” Flash winked at you when Yuri pushed him away with her whole hand pressed up against his face, “don't mind this idiot. He always gets like this when he's woozy.”

“‘m not woozy.” Flash grumbled, pushing her hand off his face and crossing his arms over his chest like a child who didn't get what they wanted.

“Sure you aren't.” Yuri rolled her eyes, wiping the black marble counter with gold veinings etched into them with a scruffy cloth tinted a light brown at hand (you assumed that it used to be white once.)

“Just a little bit, alright?” He grunted.

You tune in and out of the conversation thinking about what you could do back at the parlor, what you still need to do and improve, how you're going to start developing and promoting your work. Making a website could do me goods, never hurts to try. Maybe I should make a Facebook page— You jumped out of your twilight zone when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face.

“Welcome back to earth, love.” Hobie's voice was the first one you processed. 

“Sorry, just got some things on my mind.” You ran a hand over your head till the nape of your neck, letting it settle there.

“I can see that,” Hobie took the empty glass of beer in your hand and replaced it with a refilled one. Your eyes lingered on his hands, watching them with precision before your eyes found their way back to your glass, staring at the foam floating at the top of the glass. You brought the glass up to your lips letting the liquid burn down your throat.

Hobies eyes lit up with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Calm down, love. The drink ain’ gonna run away from you.” He quipped, his fingers gently wrapping around your forearm pulling the drink down from your lips. Your body slightly tensed up as his warmth seeped into your skin and throughout your body, your eyes meeting his.

Hobie's amused smirk seemed to drop into a line when he noticed the change in the atmosphere. His eyes stuck on yours, yours on his.

The tension suddenly drowned out by the cackle of Yuri who was watching Flash flirt (and fail miserably) with some gals that sat a few seats away from the two of you. His hand quickly untangled itself from your arm finding its way back onto the counter. You let out a breath of relief thankful for brief distraction.

Flash trudged back to where the three of you were, his shoulders slumped with a small pout planted on his face after the girls left with scowls and disgust etched on their faces.

“No luck?” Yuri teased.

“Shut up.” Flash huffed, snapping his head away from her to which Yuri hummed smugly.

Hobie reassured Flash by giving him a small pat on his back whispering some words into his ear that seemed to lighten him up. 

“Hey, up for some dare or drink?” Flash beamed suddenly, his movement more animated than before.

“What?” you tilt your head quizzically. 

“Dare or drink, do the dare or chug a beer.” Flash summarized with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“Oh no, I should probably get back in a couple of minutes,” you interjected, waving your hands in the air dismissively. 

Yuri frowned, “c'mon babe, my shift is almost over. It won't hurt you to have a little fun, y'know?”

“I really shouldn't-” You protested but quickly folded with Yuri's small pout the alcohol in your system. I'm so gonna regret this later.

—

“Chug, chug, chug!” The three chanted while your hazy eyes tried to focus on the mug of beer in front of you. This might've been your fifth drink of the night, but could you blame yourself? You were definitely NOT texting your fucking ex that you missed him (given by our dear Flash). Not in a million years, but it was more tempting than chugging another beer and inevitably using the next person near you as a vomit bucket.

“Fuck, 'm gonna vomit.” You slurred, putting the glass mug down on the marble counter. Somehow, even with four and a half beers in your system, you could kind of think properly.

Kind of.

“It's the beer or the dare, babe.” Yuri reminded, wiggling her finger.

“Mhm,” you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to rub the blur out of your eyesight. “I-I’m going to find the bathroom.” You shook your head, standing up clumsily. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth but it didn't help with your slurring at all.

You just whipped around and showed yourself the way towards the bathroom which you had no idea where the fuck it was simply disappearing into the crowd.

“That's not even the direction of the bathroom.” Yuri murmured, sighing defeatedly.

“So… who's going with her?” Flash raised an eyebrow, his eyes bouncing between Hobie and Yuri. The two stared back at him, making him raise his hands in the air defensively, “not it.”

It made both Hobie and Yuri roll their eyes. Yuri turned towards Hobie, opening her mouth to say something but Hobie interrupted her before she could.

“I'll go, ya both enjoy. If we don't return, we left, ‘ight?” Hobie gave them a curt nod and small goodbyes before he headed your way quickly just in case you were about to do something stupidly stupid and wouldn't be able to take it back.

Hobie strutted through the packed room, hands in pocket, eyes searching for a certain (h/c) headed individual. His height an advantage as he could see over the array of people. His nostrils taking in a whiff of the sweat and alcohol mixed in with the air, dancing bodies bumping against his.

Where did she go? He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes wandered over the room, skimming through the crowd but unable to spot you. You went in the complete wrong direction so you couldn't possibly have made it to the bathroom.

Should he call your name? Probably not, as tempting as it was, you weren't really a lost child.

He caught a glimpse of you – your back turned to him whilst you talked to two other girls. He doesn't remember introducing you to them. Maybe you knew them already? He pushed the thoughts aside, walking over towards you.

He tapped your shoulder, “Y/N-” only to freeze in his stance when he saw ‘you’ turn around.

“Huh?” The amber-eyed woman looked Hobie up and down, her eyes sparkling. “Sorry, can I help you?” She spoke softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“Sorry love, thought you were somebody else.” He explained noticing her smile slip a little.

“Oh.” She murmured melancholy, plastering a fake smile on her face. Hobie nodded and quickly left before she could say anything else.

Something – Someone – suddenly slammed into his side, his hands reaching down and grabbing their waist to steady them.

He looked down, finding your hazy eyes melding with his, “you good?”

“Just a little… light-headed.” You reassured, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm unable to ignore the uneasiness in the back of your throat but you didn't see why he had to know that.

“You wanna get outta here?” Hobie suggested, watching you narrow your eyes at him before nodding and mumbling something he assumed was a yes.

He moved his hand up wrapping around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator.

—

Ding.

The Elevator had reached the top, the metal doors sliding out revealing how the dark blue had taken over the sky, multiple glowing specks adorning the sky. What time was it? Where were you two going now? You wondered, your thoughts racing from one to another. At least they hadn't gone completely blank… yet.

Your body moved on its own — with the help of Hobie, of course. Otherwise you'd probably still be tossed around the crowd like a colorful toy among a group of children.

You'd rushed over dipped your head over a plant pot that busied the wall right next to the elevator when you reached it. Gagging and retching, expecting your half-digested lunch and almost 5 beers to make a quick reappearance but it never did.

“You feelin’ better?” The voice snapped you out of your musing.

“Nope,” you answered with a pop of the p. “I think… I think it's probably gotten worse actually.” Your answer was slow, trying to comprehend each syllable you spit out of your mouth.

“Eh, should've known better before dragging ya into a bar and making you chug beer.” He sighed, feeling you lean against him while he continued to steady your movement.

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

“Did you enjoy at least?” Hobie asked, trying to make some good of the situation.

“Mhm.” You crooned, stumbling over your own foot but never making it to the floor. He twisted the door knob that probably would've broken down if the breeze of air was too fast. “So where do you live?”

“Eh… my apartment.” You answered.

He chuckled at your ominous answer, “and where would your ‘apartment’ be?”

Huh… your apartment? It was on street… Your thoughts went blank. Did you just forget where you fucking live? yes. Yes you did. But if you think hard enough– nope. nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have drank that much.

With how long you were silent for, Hobie realized the problem. “Ya forgot?”

“I forgot.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @missshelleyduvall @hobieszeze

Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune

#A Piercing for the Heart #A Piercing for the Heart Series #A Piercing for the Heart Chapter 2 #hobie brown x body piercer! reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #APFH #hobiebrown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x you #hobie brown fluff #rexlpost #spiderpunk x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x body piercier!reader #spiderpunk x fem!reader

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Kidney Bean & The Grape (The Surprise, Part 3)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: emetophobia (nothing graphic, but characters discuss morning sickness), mostly fluff, established relationship, pregnancy times, some explicit language Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Weeks 8 & 9 of your pregnancy are underway. Morning sickness has hit you like a freight train and you're feeling sick and gross and weak. Thankfully, Emily is always there by your side.

Week 8: The Kidney Bean

You slumped into the wall next to the toilet, shaking, a thin coating of sweat covering your face. You were so tired, so tired, of throwing up. You’d read that not all pregnant people experienced morning sickness, and that not all of the ones who did puked, and not all the ones who puked did so on a daily basis. You sent a silent fuck you into the ether to all those people.

Emily crept into the bathroom, a cup of ice chips and your favorite tiny spoon in hand. “Oh, honey,” she said, looking at you with the most pitiful, helpless expression you’d ever seen. Your hunched, exhausted body broke her heart.

You groaned and leaned your head against the tiled wall, trying to breathe steadily as waves of nausea coursed through you.

Emily grabbed a washrag from under the sink, running it under the faucet and squeezing out the excess. She folded it carefully, then sat down on the floor next to you, placing the cool rag gently on the back of your neck. She played with the messy strands of hair at your nape as she held the washrag in place.

“You think you can manage some ice chips?” she asked quietly. You thought for a moment before nodding.

You sat up and reached to grab the cup from her, your hand grazing one of your breasts. A searing, rhythmic pain shot through your body, and you doubled over, clutching your chest.

“Ow! Fuck!” you yelled, bursting immediately and uncontrollably into tears. Pain and nausea and hormones coursed through you like tributaries of some awful, body-wide river. Yet another thing you hated about being pregnant.

“What!? What happened!? Are you okay!?” Emily asked, scanning your body for harm.

You leaned into her, and she wrapped her arms protectively around your shaking body. You could count on one hand the number of times in your adult life that you’d full-on sobbed–until the last two weeks. Now you’d need at least four or five hands.

“I–” you gasped, gulping in great breaths of air as tears streamed down your face. “I hit my boob when I reached for the ice!” It would be funny if you weren’t so pitiful, if you hadn’t been nauseated and in pain for eight days straight now. The knowledge that it could and likely would last for months made you physically ill.

Emily shushed you and held your face to her chest as you cried. She knew that you’d both made the decision that you would carry. And that it was a smart decision–you were younger than her, your career was less demanding and unpredictable, and you worked from home. But at this moment? She wished with everything in her that it was her body and not yours going through all this.

As Emily rocked you, she felt like crying, too, even though this wasn’t hard for her, at least not like it was for you. It was easy to hold you when you cried. Easy to be there for you, to comfort you. To bring you plain toast and ice chips and to hand wash your tiny spoon so it was always ready. It was easy to hold back your hair while you vomited, to scrub the toilet every night so it’d be clean when you got up in the morning.

This was the hard part: watching you struggle, watching your body go through absolute hell, and not being able to do a thing about it. Somehow it was worse because you’d chosen to do it. For her. For the both of you, so that you could start a family. Emily had never realized what an immense sacrifice it was to grow a baby. You’d sacrificed your body, your time, your comfort, everything, to house this little human. It was humbling to watch.

When your sobs quieted to the occasional sniffle, she started running her fingers through your hair, matching the rhythm to your breath–or maybe it was the other way around.

“I’m so sorry you feel so bad, honey,” Emily said, her mouth pressed to the side of your head, trying to convey all the love and empathy and admiration she held for you. “Thank you for doing all this. For me and for us and for the little kidney bean. You’re amazing.”

You sat up, slowly reaching to grab the cup of ice chips.

“I thought we were calling her the blueberry?” you said, your voice still wavering, as you pressed the cool spoon experimentally to your lips.

Emily rubbed your back in gentle circles, her fingers cool and soothing from holding the ice chips. “Last week he was a blueberry. This week he’s the size of a kidney bean.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in thought, your hair a hornet’s nest, tiny little spoon poking out of your mouth. Emily beamed at you. Even now, when you felt your absolute shittiest, you were the most adorable person she’d ever clapped eyes on.

“So we’re just gonna change her nickname every week?”

“I mean, I am,” Emily decided, scooping a piece of ice out of your cup and crunching it in her mouth. “It helps me remember how big he is.”

You sighed, placing a gentle, protective hand over your stomach. Minus the puking and the insane hormones, it was still hard to believe there was a little human inside of you.

“You’re giving me a lot of shit, bean,” you said, directing your voice to your stomach. “You better be really cute.”

Emily leaned her head against your shoulder. “He’s made of you,” she observed. “How could he not be?”

You looked at her, feeling tears prickle at your eyes again. You huffed, sniffling and attempting to suck the tears back into your body.

“Ugh, stop being so romantic!” you exclaimed, smiling and wiping away a few rogue tears. You took her hand in yours, letting out a deep, shaky breath. “If you keep that up, I’ll never stop crying.”

“Anything for you,” she acquiesced. And you knew she meant it. She really would do anything for you. She’d go to the ends of the earth for you.

“Anything?”

“Mmhm,” she nodded.

“Even Ritz crackers?”

She laughed and kissed the side of your head before pushing herself to her feet. “One plate of Ritz crackers, coming right up.”

“My hero!” you called after her. And you meant it.

Week 9: The Grape

You wrestled against the apple slicer, standing on tiptoes to try to get enough leverage to break through. You were unreasonably angry at how much you were struggling. Leverage was usually an issue–you were short. But now your arms were weak and achy, too, like they were made of rubber.

Emily walked through the door, dropping her bag by the entryway and smiling at your struggling, tiptoed form.

“Need some help?” she asked, wrapping her arms around you from behind and kissing you on the cheek.

“No,” you huffed.

She raised her eyebrows at you.

You sighed. “Yes.”

“That’s what I thought,” she gloated, planting tiny, fluttering kisses all over your face and neck until you were giggling and your frustration had dissipated.

Emily maneuvered your body around so she could place her hands on either side of your face. She stared into your eyes for a moment before leaning down to kiss you. You didn’t know what she’d seen at work that day, what kind of gruesome, perverted crimes she was dealing with, but whatever it was, you could feel the stress of it, the darkness, seeping off and away as she relaxed into you. She kissed you eagerly, earnestly, as if you were a cool body of water after a long, dry journey.

When you ran out of air, you pulled away and pressed your head into her chest, wrapping your arms tightly around her. She exhaled heavily and carefully cradled the back of your head, resting her chin on top.

“You’re really great to come home to, you know that?” she told you, her voice vibrating around you as you hugged her.

“You want to talk about it?” you asked quietly, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

She shook her head. “No, not yet.”

You nodded and squeezed her hand. You wouldn’t push her to tell you, you never did. But she knew you were there to listen when she was ready to talk.

“Alright, let’s get you your snack,” she said, clearly wanting to move away from thinking about work.

You opened a cabinet, standing on tiptoes again to try and reach a jar of peanut butter.

“Hey,” Emily chastised, grasping at your reaching hand and squeezing it. “You go sit down. I’ll get it.”

“I can get my own snack, Emily,” you protested. You knew you were going to have to be less independent during your pregnancy, and it was a hard transition for you to make. You didn’t like depending on people, even Emily, though you were getting better about it the longer you were in a relationship with her.

“I know you can,” she said, pressing down the apple slicer as if it was nothing but a stapler. “But I like to take care of my wife.”

You couldn’t help but smile, blushing a little, as Emily peeled off one of the apple slices and popped it in your mouth.

“Now go sit down,” she ordered, playfully smacking your ass. You rolled your eyes but did as you were told. “Why don’t you queue up one of those animated shows you like so much? I’m not done with She-Ra yet, am I?”

Your face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really!?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, of course. I gotta find out if they finally kiss.” She stared at you pointedly. “It seems like they should, right?” She was always trying to get you to reveal plot spoilers, and you were so gullible you often fell for it.

You raised your hands and shook your head as you plopped down on your corner of the couch.

“Listen, I’ll neither confirm nor deny any Sapphic plotlines.”

“Asshole,” she called, spooning peanut butter onto a plate with the apples.

She walked over to you, plate in hand, and sat down on the couch, raising her hands in the air so you could get into your normal TV-watching position.

You’d been embarrassed at first by how much you loved your head in Emily’s lap, how comfortable and safe it made you feel. For months when you’d first started dating, you’d always wait for her to pull you into her, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally did. Until one day, she’d sat down on the couch, lifted up her arms and said, “Come on, get in your spot.”

You rested your head in her lap, relishing the weight of her arms as she lowered them. You pressed play on She-Ra, and Emily passed you an apple slice dipped in peanut butter. You crunched happily. This was a good night for you. Your favorite show. Your favorite snack. Your favorite person. Almost no nausea!

Between apple slices, Emily ran her fingers through your hair. You hadn’t felt so relaxed in weeks. So relaxed you could almost…

“Hey,” Emily prompted, holding out an apple slice, but you didn’t answer. She looked down and brushed your hair out of your eyes to find you sound asleep. She smiled softly and ate the apple slice herself.

Emily loved watching you sleep. You always slept curled, your fist resting next to your face like a baby whose thumb had slipped out of its mouth in the middle of the night. She wondered briefly if the baby would sleep like that, too, and the thought gave her butterflies. She paused the show, knowing you’d be sad later if she watched it without you–you liked to watch her watch.

She scrolled through shows and movies, but finally gave up. All she wanted to watch was you. Her heart melted as you tensed and stretched a little in your sleep, your hand wrapping protectively around your stomach. She knew she should get up, should move you to the bed. She knew that once you got there, you’d curl right back into her. That she would wrap her arms tightly around you and bury her head in your neck and hold you and the baby. She’d hold you both so close, so careful and secure, and she’d sleep well knowing you were there next to her.

There was only one person in the world she trusted to keep her family safe, and that was her. Soon, she’d move you to the bedroom. Soon, she’d turn off the lights and arm the alarms and crawl into bed next to the love of her life and her unborn child. But for now–she just wanted to watch you, your hair through her fingers and the sound of your breathing grounding her to all that was good in the world.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #hurt/comfort

[whimsyeo]

norman f*cking rockwell

જ⁀➴ jeong yunho x fem!reader (ft. san)

❝love, as you knew it, began and ended with yunho. ❞

wc; 2.7k

cw; angst, infidelity, unhealthy relationship, crying, insecurity, slightest bit suggestive towards the end

🎧 norman fucking rockwell, pretty when you cry, national anthem, cinnamon girl, shades of cool by ldr

Jeong Yunho was a dream.

You often wondered, especially in the beginning, how you could ever be so lucky. Thought, why in the world had he noticed you in a room full of people with so many others much closer to him in status. Although three years ago, he wasn't quite yet the household name he has become now. But from the moment you meet him, you knew. What Yunho could be - what he would be someday.

From dating around in the city, your qualifications for a decent partner became more vague with each dead end, nothing-more-than-a-nice-dinner date. Don't be a complete jerk, was the only remaining requirement on your list when you first met Yunho. Perhaps made to be the slightest bit of a cynic by then because of so many bad experiences, you didn't so much as swoon when he directed his truly angelic smile at you. Complimenting your appearance only after he greeted you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

Stereotypical and overly chivalrous as he was, you didn't buy it. And you wouldn't have admitted it then, probably not even now - that the effect, still, was immediate.

You knew then you shouldn't get your hopes up. Yunho was still up and coming in the industry, but working as a writer had showed you just how little experience had to do with how any and every actor could walk around like the world owed them just by existing. But what was one more possible bad date story to tell San over a brunch debrief the morning after? What have you really to lose?

So when Yunho asks you once the party ends if you're free for lunch the next day, of course you say yes. Never would you have anticipated how quickly he could crumble your walls to dust and worm his way through your rib cage into hold such a vice grip on your heart. Maybe it was always supposed to happen that way, as you can't imagine falling any differently with Yunho on the other side of it.

Everyone he meets always falls a little in love by the end of the conversation, you were sure of it. So, in a way, there wasn't ever a timeline in which you didn't end up completely in love with Yunho. You were just fortunate enough to be living in the one where somehow, he did, too.

When you think of Yunho, you think of the sun. Fireworks lighting up the sky after it sets along the horizon and the summer breeze rushing past while you still feel warm to the touch. It's the little things, too. His hand on the small of your back when crossing the street. His insistence on opening every door you ever walk through. How he waits to pick up his own fork until you to take the first bite at dinner. The blinding smile that takes over his face after finding you in a crowd across the room.

When things had begun to change, you hadn't the slightest idea. Everything did, and yet nothing did, really. He still opened the car door for you, but no longer texted you random updates in between breaks for filming. He still swung your interlocked hands when you walked down the street, but now didn't ask to stop and take pictures together every few blocks. You still had date nights, however rare with his constantly packed schedules, but these days you spent most dinners at home like you had most nights as well. Alone.

You go to sleep and Yunho's not there, or wake up to him long gone - sometimes both. At one point he would leave cute little notes on your nightstand, apologizing for having to rush out and detailing his plans for the day, but even those had eventually stopped.

You don't talk about it. You can't, not really. Not when he goes about life as normal. Smiling at you gently on those hard to come by mornings you do have together, your coffee waiting for you on the counter, made just the way you like it. How can you say anything is wrong when he looks so happy to finally be able to share a meal with you, going on about the outtakes behind his latest drama, questioning you with the stars in his eyes about your recent works right after?

There's never a right time to admit you're hurting. Especially not when it appears you are the only one feeling this way.

"You're thinking too loud," Yunho grumbles from behind you, voice laced with sleep. He lazily throws his arm over your middle to pull you close.

At times you could almost forget you're still sharing the same bed. Even with your lover pressed against your back, it feels as though you really couldn't be further apart.

"Sorry," you mumble back. "Did I wake you?"

You feel his hair brush against your neck as he presumably shakes his head. His lips press against your bare shoulder. Not quite kissing, just resting them there.

"Want to talk about it?"

Your instinct is to say no, brush it off like you often do. Like when Yunho catches your dazed look drifting away from the conversation, or the brief lull that follows from cutting yourself off right when you are about to ask. The situation never seems right for it, and you're beginning to realize there likely won't ever be a good time if you don't just speak up now.

"I miss you," you start. Too vague, you realize, so you continue. "It's like we're always just missing each other, I guess. Going through the motions, but not together. It doesn't even feel like we're living in the same house anymore."

Yunho hums against your skin. You assume it's an encouragement to keep going, but you have nothing more to say. The pressure of those words lifted such weight off your chest that it seems like saying anything more about how you've felt recently would be too much, and you'd flounder.

"I'll be better," he promises. He makes a lot of those lately. You still believe them every time. "Filming finishes soon, and then I'll be all yours."

You should say something else, but what? You are both well aware that once filming ceases for his drama he goes straight into preparations for his next movie. And once the final episode for his current project airs in the coming weeks, there will be even more offers pouring in. For movies and shows and the likes. Everyone wants a piece of Jeong Yunho these days. You're not the only one.

Yunho adjusts his hold on you, not letting up as he moves to lay back down. It won't be long before he falls asleep again. You can only hope exhaustion will catch up to you eventually, before the burning behind your eyes finally form the tears you've been denying for what feels like forever now.

You think back to a comment San had made the last time you too had hung out. Some time has past since that cloudy morning you saw your best friend last, when he softly spoke words that would unknowingly stick with you for the weeks to come. He likely believed you hadn't even heard him over the hard rainfall against the café windows, but you did. Once you realized the cracks in your heart hadn’t yet filled, you wished you hadn’t.

"If things seem too good to be true, they probably are."

As he was with most things, San was right.

He had never liked Yunho, not from the very second San had met him at the very first group hangout he ever came to. San was polite at least, if not overly formally in a way that was telling to only you. As for why - he couldn't really explain it himself.

"It's just this feeling I get around him. I don't like it."

San's gut instincts were never wrong. And while you were already nothing short of completely enamored by Jeong Yunho, you weren't in too deep. Yet. It wasn't too late pull back, but San hadn't asked that of you. Wouldn't, either, without impeccably good reason.

Rather, he pulled back. Often missing outings with your other friends when he knew Yunho would be there. You saw less and less of him the more you and Yunho's lives became intertwined. It made you feel awful, but San insisted it was a him thing.

Being completely caught up in Yunho's web led you to accepting that fact much faster than you probably should have.

On the rare occasions you do hang out, one on one, no Yunho in sight - you never talk about him. Until one day, San's curiosity seemingly gets the better of him.

"How have you and lover boy been?" He would ask. And he always did, avoided saying Yunho's name like the plague.

"Don't ask questions you don't care about the answers to."

You can't pretend it doesn't hurt. Not having your boyfriend and closest friend get along is one thing, but San's seemingly unfounded detestation for Yunho is something else all together.

"I do care about you," he mumbles, continuously fiddling with his cup of iced coffee. He's done more passing it back and forth between his hands than ever drinking from it.

Your silence is all that answers him. There's not much you can say, when nothing is out right wrong, anyway. You don't trust yourself to not break down, either. Because saying it out loud will make it real.

San sighs, "I'm sorry for not spending much time with you these days." He finally takes a sip from his drink, no doubt long since watered down now from going untouched this whole time. "I try not to step in your time together, either. I know how hard it probably is to come by lately. He’s all over the place.”

There was a point in time, not even too long ago, that you would've told San everything. You find yourself fighting the very urge to now, to tell San that those days were more rare than he would believe. That you're beginning to doubt everything about yourself and your relationship. And that it seems like you are the only one bothered by it all.

Maybe you're also scared of proving San right, of hearing him say 'I told you so'. You're entirely too afraid to admit that you know something is going on and all the insecurities you had in the beginning of your relationship have come back a tenfold. San surely wouldn't leave you alone then, if he knew just the kind of downward spiral you were heading towards, being stuck in your own mind all the time.

So you bite your tongue, and reassure him that there's nothing to apologize for.

You don't anticipate ever opening up to San about the problems you're facing regarding Yunho. But one minute, you're sat alone at a table meant for two, hours after the time your reservation was made for. Then the next you're standing at San's apartment door, drenched from the pouring rain outside.

You barely remember the ride here or why you thought coming to San was the best first choice of action. Knocking before you can even stop yourself, and barley given the time to consider running away when San opens the door.

You meet his worried eyes, and the first brick of your carefully crafted walls fall.

You still haven't cried. Not even after you're sat on the couch with San, dressed in dry clothes, freshly made cup of coffee in hand. It's going cold and you haven't even taken a sip. Can't. It's not the way Yunho makes it.

San doesn't ask. Doesn't really have to, but he's always been the curious type, so you know he's only holding out for you. Which is why you start talking and don't stop.

A hand on your back, soft spoken reassurances in between your brief pauses for air. Even when you go quiet for extended periods of time San never says 'I told you so'.

Instead, "You don't deserve this."

You want to believe San. He was right about Yunho after all. But San could've never accounted for how hard you’d fall - how your heart would bend and mold to make a perfect Yunho shaped place in your chest, a spot only he could ever fill.

You hadn't know love before Yunho. Not like this. This feeling like if he ever stopped loving you, you'd be left afloat in the middle of an ocean’s storm, simply praying for the sun to come out again. Every fulfilling breath you could take now, not filled with salt water, is only because he loves you too.

It's almost comical. Cheesy enough to have been a moment pulled straight from one of Yunho's many drama scripts; the white button down in your hand, and the burgundy lipstick stain on it's collar.

For a reason you can't explain you just know this isn't a one off, possibly drunken after party mistake. It doesn't help that Yunho doesn't even jump to fill the silence with carefully crafted defenses of himself, only standing in the doorway to your bedroom with wide eyes, noting your every expression. You hope you don't look as defeated as you feel, but with how Yunho is walking towards you with slow steps while you remain entirely unmoving, you already know you've lost.

"Do you love her?"

There's no point in pretending anymore. The truth is out, and it hurts more than you ever thought it could. The prickly feeling of thorns that have been growing around your heart for what feels like forever now suddenly morph into bigger, sharpened blades, stabbing deeper with seemingly every breath you take.

"I love you."

You're eyes burn like never before. You think if the tears start now, they may never stop.

"Do you love her?"

The slightest pause, and then a baited breath.

"I love you more."

It's not enough, you want to shout. You want to do anything but sit there in silence, as Yunho's hands find purchase on your waist. You want to push him away when he starts pressing kisses on your cheek and then down to your neck. You don't want to love Yunho, not anymore.

But the love you feel won't go away overnight. It doesn't go away even now, with his indirect admission of not only infidelity, but deep affection for another. You were foolish to ever believe love was a word that could only ever exist between the two of you.

You briefly wonder, does he hold her chin when he kisses her, too? Does he buy her flowers? Does he send her silly pictures of himself during costume changes? Does he trace shapes on her back while they cuddle? God, does he talk about the future with her? All light eyes and giddy smiles, thrilled by the prospect of simpler days. With a wrap around porch and a dog and a garden?

The first tear falls, and Yunho is quick to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. His hands are all over you, so gently, as if a more lingering touch will lead you to break. You don't believe it will make a difference.

No, it only makes it worse. How quickly you melt into his embrace, clinging onto his shoulders like your life depends on it. In someways it does - because even if you can't have all of Yunho, any bit of him will suffice. You need the breath of fresh summer air he brings, not the salt water.

Like that of an addict finally getting their fix. His words are the only drug you could ever need. They keep you going if only for a little while, and when you start to fall all you need is the slightest taste - and you're reminded once more of what you could've been missing.

Jeong Yunho was always meant for great things. The world cannot contain him any better than love can. He has always been too good to be true.

"Let me love you," he begs. And you do.

#whimsyworks #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #ateez angst #yunho angst #san x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #yunho imagines #yunho scenarios #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho x you #choi san x reader #choi san x you #san imagines #ateez reactions #yunho reactions #yunho x you #san reactions

[frootloopscos]

Hello! Could you do the vice dorm leaders with a s/o that has a knack for getting into the most dangerous situations for fun

Hi there Anon! Of course I can! 🤭 this is part one! Part two will be posted later!

Taglist: @naompspsps @bagofburntcreampuffs

———————

Vice Housewardens With a S/O Who Gets Into Danger For Fun!

Trey Clover

Let’s be honest here, Trey is probably used to things like this because of his siblings, and being the Vice of Heartslabyul. It takes a lot of work to make sure Riddle doesn’t go mad and take everyone’s heads again while trying to keep the first years out of trouble. So when Cater showed him a video on Magicam of you and your first year friends going diving off a cliff let’s just say he had a small heart attack. 🩷

~~

“Trey I swear I’m fine!” You tried to assure your boyfriend over the phone, he had called you not three minutes after Cater had shown him what you were doing. “Y/N,” Trey said oddly calm “if you keep doing dangerous things without warning me before hand. I’ll stop baking for you.” Let just say that you warned him beforehand doing anything fun from now on.

Ruggie Bucchi

I know Ruggie isn’t technically a Vice Housewarden, but Leona left him in charge of the dorm during book 6 sooooo. It was a habit of yours to call your boyfriend if you ever got injured while out having fun with your friends. This time however when he picked up the phone he was not expecting Ace to be the one talking to him.

~~

“Ruggie! You picked up, sooo uh, Crowley sent (Y/N) on an errand to the dwarfs mine for some reason and when they came back to ramshackle their arm was broken! We don’t know what to do!” Ruggie didn’t say a word, hanging up the phone and running to Ramshackle as quick as he could with his first-aid kit. “(Y/N)!” He yelled slamming the door open, there you were laying on the couch with a grin. “Hi babe!”

Jade Leech

You often found yourself back at Octavinelle after your fun that everyone called Dangerous with a smile. Calling for your boyfriend as you were carried by his brother bridal style. Floyd often ended up being your partner in crime when having fun.

~~

“Jadeeeeeeeee.” You whined for your boyfriend as Floyd carried you into Octavinelle. “Oya?” He asked walking out of the kitchen only to smirk, “ah Floyd, I trust you kept them safe from anything too dangerous?” He asked threateningly, Floyd just shrugged and dropped you on the floor before strolling off bored. “Ow,” you mumble rubbing your back as you stood, “yeah Floyd and I had fun! I even managed to bring back mushrooms for you, Floyd made sure they’re safe!” You say to him with a grin

#twisted wonderland #twst #frootloopscoswrites #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover #twst trey #trey clover x reader #trey x reader #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #ruggie x reader #jade leech #twst jade #jade x reader #frootloopscosanswers

[beefrobeefcal]

an Ezra & Cricket One Shot: Brass Knuckled Debauchee Summary: Ezra, after abusing your healing talents, returns to make good on his debt... for a price.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 4,752

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), weight gain, eating, edging, soft!dom Ezra being an overall ass, teasing, begging, crying, malfunctioning prosthetic limb, the occasional swear

Author's Notes: requested by two (count'em - 2!) lovely babes for the 900 Friendo Celebration - thank you to @xdaddysprincessxx and @morallyinept for bringing Ezra some love.

Huge thank you to @strang3lov3 , @noxturnalpascal & @bitchesuntitled for their beta badass skills and to my ever lovely beta fish, @neverwheremoonchild. None of you will understand the depths of gratitude I hold you all in.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

You’d cared for him when his appendage was newly parted from his person, after a young woman dumped him off at your meagre midwife’s centre.  

You hadn’t delivered a baby in at least eight cycles, but you were busy tending to broken bones and crushed limbs from the mine nearby, so the idea of caring for a wound caused by a missing arm wasn’t far from your everyday.  

What was far from the standard men in your care was that this one wouldn’t shut up. Truly. You’d never met someone so close to death spew such a narrative. You almost wished to have him out of his misery just to stop his linguistic vomit.  

Thank Kevva for sedatives.  

You didn’t even want to know his name, worried that if you had his, he’d need yours and there was no way someone this sick and wounded that could carry on like he’s memorized a thesaurus wasn’t capable of performing a hex or a curse on you. 

After three blessedly quiet and devoid-of-narration days, the open wound where his arm once hung from was no longer festering and the fever that wracked his body broke. Despite your own desire to keep him silent, you stopped administering such a high dose of the sedative, and you allowed him to regain consciousness.  

For the first little while, all you heard was his steady, deep breathing, so you left the room to grab some water and liquified sustenance for him, figuring that when he would finally come to, he’d be hungry. 

“To what do… do I owe the pleasure?”, you heard croaked as you walked softly back into the room.  

“Oh good…”, you replied flatly. “You’re awake and talking.” 

The remainder of his stay that time had revolved around you doing what you could to keep his mouth occupied enough to keep it quiet; you fed him. By the time he’d left, he’d made you aware of his name – Ezra – and bestowed a nickname on you for lack of giving your own. Cricket. He then made the terrible promise to return to see you and left with a wink and a smile.  

Your whole body bristled at the thought of having to deal with him again. 

***** 

The first return visit he made, his confidence and vocabulary were still obnoxiously inflated. Whining of a bruised rib, you resumed your frustrated feeding to keep him down to two to three sentences and responses between mouthfuls.  

The second time he returned, he stated that he had been ‘brutalized by a deviant, one who you should not even be told of his true form else your fragile and virtuous mind be stained’. There wasn’t a single mark on him, save for a bite on his only arm that looked to be self-inflicted. He enjoyed himself, smiling between bites of food. 

By the third visit – complaining of a sprained toe - you knew that he knew that you knew what you were doing - and vice versa. Despite this, you fed him, and he ate very well. After several days of ‘healing’, he hauled himself up and it was then that you noted his flight suit looking like it was getting tighter around his middle.  

Those visits happened in a fairly rapid succession, but a longer period – more than six cycles at least - lapsed before he darkened your doorway and approached your desk once again. Without even looking up, you knew it was him, having heard his cavalier long-form salutations being crooned out at anyone he passed approaching your unit. 

“What now?”, you sighed in irritation, dropping your head into your hand, not bothering to look up at him – something you would come to regret to save yourself future embarrassment. You didn’t see him close your door and lock it behind him.  

He approached your desk, and his hand came into view along with a mechanical one; the smooth-as-silk tongued devil was now outfitted with a prosthetic arm that looked like it had been stolen from a brass skeleton and had gears added. Your eyes followed the mechanical limb up to the hem of his shortened sleeve, hiding the joint between it and what remained of his actual arm. The new colour of his clothing caught your attention, too, pulling your eyes to his torso. Yes, it was definitely a different colour. He was no longer in the moss greens and soil browns you’d associated with him. Now, he was in a dark blue flight suit with a gold zipper that looked to just be barely holding together.  

Your brain paused to take in what was in front of you.  

“No more chirps for me, sweet Cricket?” 

His raspy, southern drawl sounded sweeter than you’d noticed before as your eyes took in the added weight on his middle. Before looking up to his face, you noted the way the zipper rippled from the strain and the clear indent his belly button made as the fabric pulled taut across his expanse.  

His face. As soon as you took it in, you regretted not doing it first. He’s held you in his big brown eyes’ gaze before, but you’d been able to avoid being trapped. But this time you couldn’t help but let them absorb you. His smile widened as he slightly leaned forward, arms putting further weight on your desk.  

“You seem at a loss for word, Crick-“ 

“You’ve been eating well.”, you managed to croak out in a somewhat aloof-sounding voice, nodding towards his middle.  

He didn’t shrink back at your comment; instead, it seemed to embolden him.  “You started me on a path of decadence that a mere man such as myself isn’t able to easily shake.” 

He stood to his full height, eyes never leaving yours. “Is that all you noticed?”, he grinned, lifting his brass appendage, bringing the crude and simple brass hand to his face, smoothing over his moustache.  

Your lips parted then closed and parted again before you were able to spit out, “I saw y-… I see you got a new… limb.” 

His eyes gleamed at you, seeing his every move had you further in his grasp. You inwardly scowled, chiding yourself on how quickly you were falling under his spell. Narrowing your eyes, you shrugged at him. 

“Looks old.” 

If it stung him, he didn’t show it; he simply kept that smile on his face and continued to look down at you from across the desk. “I’m not its first owner.” 

The pleasantries had only lasted a few more moments before Ezra moved around your desk and hovered over you. 

“I’m here to return the favour, Cricket.” 

“...Favour?” 

“For all the hard work you put into bringing me back to my full health.”, he cooed lowly as his brass hand cooled your cheek with its feather-light touch.  

“It’s nothing... I was just doing my j - “ 

He leaned over you further, cheshire grin pulled menacingly across his face. His voice slipped into a lower pitch and his eyes darted from your eyes to your mouth.  

“Doing your job would have been to send me away when I appeared with erroneous and fabricated injuries and illnesses. You, my sweet Cricket, stepped over and above the threshold of your employment and I intend to repay you for your sweetness in full.” 

You sucked in a few shallow breaths and nervously swallowed. This was a side of him you hadn't seen, assuming that he was a submissive and pliant brat who’d chosen you to dote on him. But no. There was no favour he intended to pay back. He was just sizing you up and wrangling you into his web, and now he was out loud declaring that you were his prey. His eyes were dark and fixed on you, in contrast with the gentle smile on his face.  

“Don’t be nervous, sweet Cricket. You can tend to your own wounds afterwards. Now, let me hear you chirp.” 

His brass arm shot out and gripped your wrist tightly and he pulled you from your seat. Dragging you to the maternity room, he tossed you onto the low soft bed.  

“Ezra!”, you squeaked as your body hit the push mattress below you.  

He dropped to his knees and crawled up, forcing your legs apart, and his belly barely grazed your middle as his face lined up with yours. You let out an involuntary whimper. 

“Oh, sweet Cricket. How badly I wanted you on your back, making those sweet vocalizations your namesake promised me.” 

His flesh and bone hand gently grazed your face and moved to the back of your head, softly fisting your hair, forcing your head to stay still as he traced his nose along the contours of your face. His eyes remained half lidded and he watched as your own rolled back when he pushed his knee into the crux of your thighs, knowing he had all but your verbal consent.  

“This is all you need, sweet Cricket? Someone to light the way?” 

All you can muster as his hold on your hair tightened and his knee applied more pressure was a light whine through your parted lips.  

You wanted to respond, but the moment you opened your mouth, Ezra’s brass arm made a clunk sound and began to shudder.  

“Oh, for Kevva’s sake.”, he muttered, sitting up on his knees as he examined the arm. It made a mechanical sound before it shuddered again, then a higher pitched noise droned as the arm vibrated.  

You watched him sitting between your parted legs as the realization of what he had at his disposal dawned on him. Your eyes widened as he turned and looked at you like a starved man with a wild grin.  

“Sweet Cricket, I think I could go for a bite to eat.” 

***** 

Once you’d gotten some finger foods together and brought them back into the room, you found Ezra laid back in a mountain of pillows on the bed. He nodded his head towards you and raised his hand, beckoning you to him.  

“Come on, Cricket. Tend to your weary traveller.” 

His eyes were glued to you, cascading up and down your form, as you hand fed him. He’d had a few pieces of the savoury pastries when you felt the cool touch of his brass hand slide between your thighs.  

“Curious...”, he mused as he chewed. “… that when I make a certain motion with my appendage, it malfunctions in such an amusing manner that I know you will find benefit in, pet.” 

Your brows furrow in question and before you can ask how that could benefit you in any way, the arm made that clunk sound again. You felt the vibration between your thighs and your eyes widened.  

“Ez – oh fuck!”, you gasped as he pushed his knuckle up against your mound and held it there firmly. 

Your mouth was open, allowing shallow panting breaths to puff out and your eyes were closed with your brows pinched as the shuddering vibrations pulsed against you. You’d never felt anything like this before in your life and you thanked Kevva.  

The low amber tones of his voice cut through to you and pulled you out of your silent prayer. “Now, sweet Cricket. We are both here to derive enjoyment from one another given we both now have the intel on each other’s vices. You can’t go holding out on me to seek your fruition – that is not fair.” 

He pulled his hand from contacting your core, and your eyes snapped to his, a pleading whimper bubbling out from your pouting lips.  

“Uh-uh, Cricket. We will play fair.”, he growled in warning. His smile dropped as his features darkened, and he nodded towards your suspended hand holding a small meat-filled pastry. “Don’t you dare hold out on me.” 

Shakily, you brought the morsel to his mouth and as he took it in and let his tongue touch your finger, his hand once again pressed against your core. 

***** 

Ezra had continued to eat and finished over half of platter. But every time you started to get close to your peak, he would pull his hand away, leaving you a shaking mess. 

“P-please… Ezra, please!”, you begged mere seconds away from ecstasy.  

“I am not finished, sweet Cricket.”, he said with a mouthful. “You will be sated when I have found my fill, and we are not yet there.” 

You could have screamed at him, strangled him in a rage. “Ezra please! I - ”. 

The warning look he gave you stopped any further pleading. Your mind reeled, trying to find some way to get relief. You could kick him out and try to finish yourself off with your fingers, but you knew it would be fruitless; you’d never gotten this worked up on your own before and you doubt that you had anything in this clinic that vibrated at that frequency.  

As you trembled and panted, Ezra watched, amused at how clearly you were seeking a solution to the problem he’d created for you.  

“Cricket…”, he cooed, soothing his biological hand up your arm and to your face. He gently guided your chin towards him. “Sweet Cricket, come back to me.” 

When your frantic gaze met his, his eyes softened and creased as he smiled. “I will not leave you unfinished. I repay my debts, darling nurse.” 

You sighed in defeat, nodded, and took a deep breath. Your eyes trailed down to his noticeably rounder middle that made the already strained zipper pull at the seams of the fabric. He shifted in what looked like discomfort.  

You put down the current half-filled plate of food and reached for the zipper tag, tugging it down. It only got to the beginning of the swell of his belly before you met resistance. You tugged a little harder, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Suck it in.” 

“Now, Cricket, let’s not be hast-“ 

“I said suck it in.”, you snapped back far more forcefully than intended.  

Ezra froze then nodded. “Sweet girl, I will try, but…”  You saw his middle pull in slightly. “… the profound conundrum I experienced in getting it on…” 

The zipper finally moved, and he groaned as his stomach expanded. “Sweet Kevva… such relief.” 

You were desperate for him to touch you again, but seeing him fat and swollen before you, knowing it was your work that was filling him out. Ezra watched your gaze turn hungry and almost feral. Granted, he felt that way as he watched you teeter on the edge of falling apart over and over. He wasn’t ready to let the power he held over you go, giving him the drive to get through, bite by bite. But that power began to slip the moment his vulnerable and considerably rounder middle exposed, and it left him feeling uneasy and unsure. 

“A change of flavour… is needed, my sweet Cricket.”, Ezra crooned, trying to exude as much confidence he could muster, despite his self-consciousness lingering in the back of his mind. He swallowed down a moan as your blown-pupiled eyes met his. He pushed a faux-confident smile and spoke softer. “Something sweeter, perhaps?” 

Letting a small huff escape, you nodded and got up from the bed, cursing him under your breath for having this much power over you. 

As you stood in the small kitchen area, waiting for the food rehydrator to loudly prepare the freeze-dried baked goods, you didn’t hear Ezra huff and grunt as he got off the bed and saunter into the kitchen. You weren’t alerted to his presence until his belly hit your back and his brass hand went to your hip.  

His nose and mouth pressed against the back of your neck, whispering filth as his hand cupped your breast and squeezed. 

“You leave yourself so vulnerable, sweet Cricket... back to the door, not an ounce of concern…. any rapscallion of low morals could take advantage… of your sweet, supple figure…” 

You let out a light, breathy whine gripping his hand as he kneaded your breast. As much as you wanted his hands on you, you wanted his mouth on your own more, so you pushed your body back against his, making enough room between him and the counter for you to turn around. His brass hand stayed on the curve of your waist, not offering any resistance, and his other hand cupped your cheek, holding it in place while he kissed you softly. His lips moved against yours like he was able to read your mind, or maybe even needed this point of contact as badly as you did. His mouth parted and his tongue pushed for entrance into your mouth, and once it was granted, the kiss fevered and boiled over. You felt your core throb with need and want, soaking your pants and already ruined underwear, and he crowded you against the counter. So wrapped up were you in his mouth and teeth and tongue, that you didn’t feel his brass hand move from your waist. 

In one swift move, Ezra shoved your pants down in the front enough for his brass hand to slip with no barrier into your folds. The cool touch you would have expected from it was long forgotten as the metal now met your body temperature. Still engulfed in the kiss that was beginning to rob your breath, the telltale clunk barely registered in your mind until the vibrations started. Sending a jolt through your body, you pulled your face away from his and let out a shrill gasp.  

The timer on the rehydrator went off, and Ezra chuckled darkly, watching your brows draw together and your eyes flutter.  

“The rules stay the same, Cricket. Sweet or savoury, I will have my fill and you will have your petite mort. But one will meet the other at the same time.”, he said in a wickedly soft tenor. “Now, you can begin holding up your end, sweet girl.” 

Once again, Ezra ripped away any power you might have had or believed you had, edging you with each bite, withholding his metal hand’s vibrations from the moment his mouth was empty to the moment your hand shakily pushed another bite past his lips. Overstimulation mixed with the pent-up fury of being denied an orgasm had you panting rapidly, tears threatening to spill over. High pitched whines and shuddering whimpers were all you could produce, and it was music to Ezra’s ears.  

“You… create the most… glorious cricket song…”, he mused softly as he chewed the mouthful. “Keep chirping, sweet girl…” 

You were coming to a point where you weren’t sure you would make it. Your brain felt like it was filled with the static from a communicator’s blank channel and your hearing and sight felt fuzzy. The coil tightening in your cunt was hitting a painful level, causing you to drop the next pastry you’d picked up with your shaking hands. 

As soon as it hit the floor, Ezra tsk’d you, and pulled his hand right out of your pants. The pained sob that burst from you from the loss of contact was loud and harsh, and the tears finally spilled over, staining your cheeks.  

“P-please… I… I can’t!”, you cried out, jutting your hand out clumsily to grab his wrist as he pulled back. His dark eyes scanned your desperate ones, pausing momentarily, before his gaze shifted to one of pity and amusement. 

“You can’t what?”, he mocked with a cruel grin. “Can’t what, sweet Cricket?” 

A rasped and pained whine peeled out of your throat as your head fell to his shoulder, and his hand gripped your hair and pulled back, forcing you to look at him. You looked ruined. Your cheeks flushed and eyes wet and lidded, your lips parted, turned down and chin quivering. He shoved up back and up onto the counter. 

“Oh, come now, sweet Cricket. Don’t look at me like I won’t give you your due.”, he whispered, ghosting his mouth over yours. His brass fingers traced lurid shapes along your inner thighs, causing your body to shiver and that coil painfully wind up in your core once more.  

“I asked you for something sweeter, pet,”, Ezra mockingly cooed as he pulled back, your face involuntarily following his to try and capture his lips against yours. He shook his head, smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “Something sweeter and you dropped it on the floor. It’s precious currency, Cricket, and you mishandled it.” 

Your eyes followed his, stuck in the trance he’d put you under. He could have told you to do anything, given any order and you would have obeyed to your detriment. His brass hand moved to your throat, long, metal fingers grasping just tight enough to keep you precariously seated on the edge of the counter. His thicker middle forced you legs open wide, and his other hand took its place between your legs and without warning, he shoved two fingers into your core.  

Your mouth and eyes widened as a wrecked gasp escaped you and your hands went to grab onto what ever meaty part of him you could grab for stability. Ezra hummed in response as the pads of his fingers felt the walls of your cannel twitch and flutter at his intrusion. 

“Good Kevva, sweet girl…”, he groaned, watching your face contort. “As much as this contraption of a limb can bring me such sadistic joy at your expense, my own digits needed to feel the silken walls of your inner sanctum.” 

As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, he dropped his forehead against yours and hummed again, answering your repeated whining pants and moans.  

“Keep chirping, Cricket… sing me your evening song… that’s it….”  

As you felt your peak come careening in, he felt your walls convulse and slicken up. The soft tenor he’s just lulled you into a steady rhythm with fell away and the low chuckle followed by his fingers being removed made you scream out and dig your nails into the fattened flesh of his upper arm and shoulder. 

“EZ-EZRA! PLEASE! FUCK-PLEASE!”, you sobbed out in a shriek.  

His brass hand’s hold tightened around your throat, and he shoved your shoulders flush with the wall behind counter roughly.  

Your desperate eyes looked him over as best as you could, given the position he had you in. His bloated and full stomach moved with each laboured breath he took and the strain he put himself under to wreck you was fully apparent. You could feel the outline of his clothed hard cock seated against your thigh and the sweat beading on his forehead. He wiped his face and parted his lips to take in deeper breaths; his irises were indiscernible from his pupils as he looked down at you. 

You had never known need like this, and you felt as though you were going to succumb due to your lack of orgasm as a final line in the life that Kevva had written for you. 

“P…please…” 

“Is it my cock you want to be impaled on, pet? You want to whine and mewl while I rut my quiver bone into your sopping celestial cavern?”, he coolly growled, but there was a slight waiver in his voice. You saw the same desperation in the dark abyss of his eyes. 

You nodded dumbly and he scowled, baring his teeth, and tore his brass hand off you, trying to make quick work of getting his flight suit off his shoulders. The arms were tight around his fleshy arms, and you shakily sat up and tried to help. Once his arms were free, you tugged the material over his waist, taking note of the roll of flesh sitting just above his waistband, showing just how much he had been indulging. You gave it a squeeze, revelling in the sound he made, sucking his breath thru his teeth at your fingers.  

“Marvel the fruits of your labour, Cricket… The destination you set me on course to has made me beyond redemption and unfit for galactic adventuring…”, he grunted breathily, shoving his flight suit off his legs before kicking it off entirely. “You have effectively rendered me useless beyond what effect I am able to wield on you.” 

He shoved his mouth against yours before you could respond or ask what he meant, sucking you into a bruising kiss. His hands gripped your hips, pulling your twitching cunt flush with his weeping, hard cock, knocking the plastic plate that held the desserts onto the floor at his feet. Fumbling slightly, he pulled back and gripped his member, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing it in all at once. The sting of his intrusion melded perfectly with the relief of finally connecting, and the sound you made caused Ezra to almost break. His eyes softened and his brows tented, body tense at the gentle yet firm, warm hold you had on him.   

“I’m af-afraid I’ve pushed too far to allow for… for niceties and gentle welcomes, sweet Cricket…”, he panted against your face, teeth clenched as he tried to focus and draw this out as long as possible.  

“Please move...”, you begged in a strained whine.  

“If I move to fast, sweet Cricket, I will... end this fortuitous connection with an... an early release, and that would render me- fuck!... render me less than a gentleman...” 

“You’re no gentleman... now shut up an-and fuck me!” 

It seemed that your tight walls and frantic begging were too much for Ezra, and he pulled out with a grunt, followed by a whine as he came onto the plate on the floor. The vulgar sounds of his panting breaths mixed with the sploot of his spend had you seeing red. 

“You asshole!”, you screeched, shoving him off you.  

He panted and held his hands up in surrender as you charged at him. 

“Cricket... forgive me! You’re too sweet... your sacred cavern was too - “ 

The slap you landed across his face stopped his fancy wordplay. “You fucking bastard!” 

Ezra’s eyes flashed in anger, and he stood to his full height, towering over you.  

“That was uncalled for, Cricket.”, he snarled. “I will take the wrath of meeting an end without you by my side, but I will not allow you to besmirch my good mother with a question of my paternal lineage.” 

You stared at him, eyes wide with anger at his audacity, and before you could say another word, he tackled you to the floor. You tried to fight him off but the moment you heard the clunk of his brass arm and felt two metal fingers punch up into your slick heat, you ceased your struggle.  

“See, sweet Cricket? I may be a wayward traveler, but even I know the dangers of leaving a woman on the precipice of completion... “ 

“Don’t stop... please... don’t stop...”  

The vibrations of his arm and the smooth curves of the worn metal fingers found a rhythm that had you seeing stars.  

“I plan to keep demanding your company each time I move through this sector, and-” 

“Oh Kevva... Ez-Ezra!” 

He leaned forward and ghosted his mouth over yours, speaking in a low, husky growl, “... if I were to fail you now, what kind of welcome would I receive the next time I darken your doorway?” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull and your body arched off the floor. Pent up energy burst from your burning cunt, sending wave after wave of precious release through your body. The scream that peeled out of you was dampened by Ezra kissing you forcefully. 

His movement slowed and he slowly pulled his brass hand from your core. You were greeted with his grin as he looked over his brass hand. 

“You’ve polished only two fingers for me... there are three more.”, he cooed, placing a delicate kiss on the end of your nose. “Next time.” 

“N-next time?” 

He nodded and stood up with a grunt. You sat up carefully, and it seemed you both took note of the plate on the floor, covered in his cum. The chastisement was on your tongue, but never became words out loud as you were struck speechless as you watched him pick up the plate and fling it out the window.  

He turned back to you, standing naked in the kitchen, fat and sweaty, with a grin on his face.  

“There is always a next time, Cricket.” 

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect #fat ezra #chubby!ezra #chubby ezra rights !!! #🥩 #900 friendo celebration #900 milestone #900 followers #pedro pascal tummy #you ask beefro answers #thot tank #you asked beefro answered

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I reminded a friend he owes me money?

@aitathrowaway321 for finding later

I (20s, they/them) lent a friend Johnny (fake name. 20s, he/him) about $300 for rent about a year and a half ago. He was panicking because he'd bought a small tattoo that week, and had thought he'd budgeted for rent, but realized he forgot about another bill.

I'd once not had enough for rent and a friend who wasn't well off, without me asking, had offered to lend me the money for rent. It had been an incredibly kind act, and though I'd paid that friend back a few months later the first second I could, I've always remembered it. So I offered to do the same to Johnny (who knew this story) as a sort of pay-it-forward and that he could just pay me back when he was able, no rush at all. I also at the time had an okay job where I made enough to be able to do this, and Johnny's job was pretty awful.

Johnny was very thankful and agreed. At first, he'd bring up the debt a lot himself (I would never bring it up) and continually promise to pay it when he could, to which I'd be like - just as soon as you comfortably can, don't stress! And he mentioned it A LOT. Multiple times every single time I saw him at first. But eventually he stopped mentioning it entirely.

The two of us had this in-joke, and Johnny realized he could buy something related to the in-joke. He swore he'd buy it for me as a birthday gift (I didn't ask) and it would be so much fun, very soon after I lent him money. It would have been a nice gift, but it would've cost at least $200. In my head I decided that if he decided to get me the gift instead of paying me back I'd be happy either way, bc it's nice to be thought of. All I said aloud was that it would be a lot of fun, and it was a very kind thought from him. He would then regularly bring up buying me this gift for months. Then my birthday passed and I didn't get anything at all from him. Which was fine, I didn't ask for gifts! But then he stopped bringing up buying me anything OR paying back the money.

Now it's been almost a year and a half, and he seems to have entirely forgotten he ever owed me. I wouldn't mind so much - times are hard! - and it's not like I'm going to be angry if someone is spending money on nice dinners and pretty clothes instead of saving up for a no-deadline debt to a friend. People need to have nice things to get through life. But he keeps getting new tattoos and piercings (we go to the same parlor, I know they're pricey) and he recently planned and went on a big trip with a friend. It's not as if he hasn't had the ability to pay me back in the last few years. I also got laid off from my job, and $300 is a lot more to me than it used to be.

It's not so much that I want the money back as it is that I'm hurt he spent so much time talking big about paying me, and then when enough time had passed just dropped it entirely. I've had an issue in the past when after I got an okay job, suddenly people who had ghosted me were begging me for money (didn't know my salary but just assumed bc of the job title). And having been in awful situations, I tried to help where I could anyway, but then after getting the money they'd ghost me again. Johnny hasn't ghosted me, but he seems to have decided not to pay me back and pretend it never happened.

We have an event coming up where people will be paying for things and everyone else will be paying them back immediately - just bc it's easier to do things like buy tickets all at once and then pass them out, and easier for a restaurant to have one bill and then people venmo each other after. I was considering having Johnny pay and then tell him he can take it out of his debt to me.

I'm unsure if this is passive aggressive and rude, or if it's a good way to gently remind him he owes me without being a jerk about money - if he is still just struggling financially and hasn't forgotten, I don't want to rub anything in or make him stressed. I don't want money to ruin a friendship, but I'm feeling hurt.

#aita #am i the asshole

[liminalmemories21]

There’s a way that panic can make you feel nauseous, and he has to swallow hard before he can get the words out.  “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Trudie gives him an approving smile, like a teacher with a student who’s given the right answer.  “You’re going to help me steal a statue.”

The Knave of Clubs . . . swears he'll take her part

liner notes below the cut

First things first.  Yes, Iris is in this alot.  No, there is no secret marriage. This is not a spoiler, this was referenced in the previous story in this series. The Carlos in this universe is a step to the left of the Carlos in canon, and he has different experiences.  Also, this is my unhinged AU, which means I get to pick and choose which bits of canon I work with.   I did not vibe with that one.

Second things second.  This was going to be a caper, y'all.  It was going to be a short caper.  Carlos and TK were going to go to NOLA and help the Leverage crew take care of some business , and, I don't know, eat beignets and popsicles.  Why popsicles and not po'boys?  Because the last time I was in NOLA I had the best popsicles of my life - they sadly no longer exist, but I can resurrect them for fic.  I also had excellent po'boys, but the popsicles were better.

[eyes fic] I don't know what happened?  Okay, I do know.  One of the weird upsides to writing a series is that you get to deal in consequences and messy afters, and the way that making a decision isn't the end to that decision, and what you did last time around keeps echoing in what you do this time.  Nothing exists in isolation.  And, I love love a story about what happens after - after the war, after the quest, after the reveal.  How do you rebuild, what happens next.  That is my die-hard kink.  Also, there was S4 of Lonestar and I had . . . thoughts, questions, concerns, reactions.  I worked them out in fic.

Third things third.  My characterization of Trudie in this fic owes a debt to Mags Bennett in S2 of Justified.  She was terrifying, and ruthless, and totally in control, and one of the most interesting characters - she's why that season was so good.  Also, go watch Justified, it's fantastic.

Fourth things last.  As ever, don't try this at home y'all, this is not how any of this works.

Reference links in final chapter, because see previous notes about being too much of a geek not to footnote.

And finally, the chapters aren't for @rmd-writes, but they're not not for her either (sorry @freneticfloetry- but this time, the structure did actually lend itself to chapters).

#knave-verse #tarlos #911 lonestar #au #fic complete

[polyo-nym-y]

Bon Appétit~

————————————————————

————————————————————

Alastor x Female!Reader

| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |

Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!

This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).

Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3

————————————————————

Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.

Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.

The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.

“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”

You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”

“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”

A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.

He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.

You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.

He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”

The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.

A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.

He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.

Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.

“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.

“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“

His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.

A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“

Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.

“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.

“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.

“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”

You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.

“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.

With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.

“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”

You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.

A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”

Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”

He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”

A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”

With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”

A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”

He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.

Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”

Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.

His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.

One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.

He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.

“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”

“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.

Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.

You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.

Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“

He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.

“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”

Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.

He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”

Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“

“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”

“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”

“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.

You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.

The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”

“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.

“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.

It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”

“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.

The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.

The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.

His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.

His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.

Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.

Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“

“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”

“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.

His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”

And you then knew that your night was far from over…

————————————————————

*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader smut