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honkytonk-hangman · 7 months

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Good In Bed

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you're only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?

Warnings: brief mentions of smut but not smutty, jake kinda being an asshole, reader getting upset and yelling at him, fluff ending all the way baybay

Notes: u have no clue how much i love u @roleycoleyland for literally being the reason this got finished <;3 <;3 <3 title from Good In Bed by Dua Lipa <3

Masterlist

Jake pumps his hips hard into yours one final time, before he at last collapses beside you, chest sweaty and heaving, his eyes closed and his face raised to the ceiling. Your position had shifted from the pure force of your fucking, and somehow your head had fallen off the side of his bed, leaving you hanging slightly as you too try to catch your breath.

“Damn, I’ve missed this,” he says a short time later, shifting himself fully out from between your legs, and tucking his hands behind his head, the afterglow of a good lay lingering on him beautifully. Once upon a time his words might’ve sparked pride or even joy, but now they’re just one more cut that stings painfully before being swallowed up. You note sourly he doesn’t say he’s missed you, despite the fact he’s been gone ten weeks now, and against your better judgement you missed him.

You lay there on his bed in the late evening and regret every moment that led you to this point. You shouldn't have picked up when he called tonight, you shouldn't have come over for drinks, and you definitely shouldn't have had sex with him again.

It’s not that Jake isn't a nice guy, well, he isn’t always, but for the most part he was a mile more decent than most of the guys you’d actually dated in the past. From the start he was straightforward and blunt with you about what this thing between you would be, how much he was offering you, and to his credit, he rarely seemed to step outside of that. And like an idiot, you’d gone and gotten feelings for him anyway.

You should have stopped seeing him long before his most recent deployment, and you shouldn't have been there the night before he left for him to hit you with another straightforward and blunt assertion that you were only fuck buddies, nothing more.

The thing is, you and Jake got on well, so well in fact most people assumed that you were an item, and at this point maybe you were blinded by your feelings, but you couldn’t exactly see why you shouldn't be, aside form the fact that Jake didn’t seem to be interested in any sort of commitment, despite what that offered was basically what you had now, only he didn’t have to go out of his way to break your heart once a week.

After the last time, before he’d left for ten weeks, you’d sworn off him for good. You put his name in your phone as ‘DO NOT CALL’, you downloaded a few dating apps, you’d even been on a few dates… and then Jake had sauntered back into your life, invited you over for the night and just like none of your progress existed in the first place, you’d come at his beck and call.

You lay there feeling pathetic as it sinks in what you’ve done, but swallow back your emotions for now. You were an adult, you chose to do this with him tonight, you knew what it would do. Warm fingers make you jump as they wrap around your wrist, and you glance up to watch as Jake effortlessly tugs you back onto the bed, closer to him, never letting his hand leave your skin as he releases you to skim his fingers up and over your shoulder, drawing you even closer until you’re almost cuddling. You nearly pull away.

Jake wasn’t a post-sex cuddler, not really anyway. Aftercare? No problem, but this wasn’t exactly the sort of session that required aftercare, so you’re more than a little surprised by his continued affections, staying still as he curls himself onto his side to face you, hand dropping to grab at your thigh, which he hikes over his, as if this was something you normally did.

“You may need to give me a few before we go again,” you tell him, realising this position was probably just him gearing up for round two. Jake peeks an eye open at you, and lifts an eyebrow as though what you’ve said is very funny.

“I don’t think I’ve got more to give tonight,” he says, adjusting your leg around him again, pulling you in even more. You refrain from frowning, if only to avoid explaining to him why. Jake closes his eyes again and lets out a contented sigh. His hand stays curled around your leg, though he begins rhythmically smoothing his thumb back and forth over your skin after a few moments, and you begin to wonder at what point he’s going to withdraw from you like he usually does.

Luckily you’re saved from the dreaded wait, your phone buzzing loud and distractingly. You use it as the perfect excuse to extract yourself from him, instead moving to a sitting up cross-legged position as you reach for your phone, and draw the screen closer to your chest when you see who it’s from. Jake seems only a little disgruntled by your movement, though gets over it quickly, replacing his hand almost exactly where it once was around your thigh.

“What's going on?” he asks casually, eyes closed again as you tap out a reply. You spare him half a glance, but don’t feel much point in lying to him about things, seeing as he’d never done so with you.

“Just this guy I met on Tinder a while back.” you tell him lightly, completely missing how his eyes pop open immediately and he stares up at you with an unreadable expression.

“You’re on Tinder?” he asks, voice blank, finally making you look down at him properly. You blink and shrug, before going back to your phone.

“Sure, I mean, I don’t know how else to meet people these days, I kinda don’t get out much when Dagger’s not around,” you inform him, shifting in your place slightly as he withdraws his hand from your thigh to lay over his sternum instead.

Feeling the mood shift, but unsure as to why, you force out a laugh and shrug.

“It’s been sorta nice, trying to get back out there again properly, not just, you know, settling or whatever.” that makes Jake react clearly, frowning at you while pushing himself into an upright position. “Settling?!” he repeats, though it’s not really a question. You stare at him in confusion.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m getting past the point in my life where I wanna be doing this,” you getsure between the two of you. “All the time.”

Jake blinks at you in clear offence, before quickly his entire demeanour seems to change all at once, and his expression falls into a somewhat familiar cocky grin.

“Alright, I get it,” he says, only further confusing you and you’re caught off guard enough that when he reaches out and plucks your phone from your hands, you don’t have time to react.

“Hey! Jake!” you protest, suddenly a little panicked as he very easily plays keep-away from you, using one of his hands to do something on your screen, while the other easily bats away you various attempts to swipe your phone back.

“You don’t need any of this shit, alright?” Jake tells you almost condescendingly.

“Jake!” you warn, your voice growing less calm by the moment.

“There, gone. Deleted.” he says proudly, before at last turning your phone screen around to face you, and letting you take it back off him, which you do hurriedly, snatching it away and standing up from the bed.

“What the fuck?!” you demand, looking agape between your now tinder-less phone, and Jake. The blond looks more relaxed now, and all of a sudden any thought of keeping your brooding and your feelings to yourself goes out the window. Your eyes prickle.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!” you shout. Jake has the smarts to at least drop his smug grin, but now he stares up at you in even more annoying surprise.

“I was just–” he starts, but you don’t even care what he has to say anymore.

“You don’t get to leave for ten weeks after, especially after reminding me that you don’t want me, and then just show up again and ruin my chances at finding someone who actually does!” your raised voice wobbles, and you don’t bother trying to hide your sniffling as you continue to lay into him. “That’s not fair! You’re being unfair!” you cry. “How many girls did you take home while you were away, huh?”

Jake blinks at you, a shade of indignance colouring his features now.

“None.” he tells you, but you can only scoff.

“Right. And how many did you flirt with? How many did you buy drinks for?” he stays silent at those questions, either not wanting to answer or no longer seeing the point in the face of your tirade. You stare at him until your eyesight blurs completely before at last you reel back from him.

Gasping a little at the state you’ve worked yourself into, you turn half away from him and wipe desperately at your eyes.

“Baby–” Jake starts, his fingers brushing your wrist, but you jerk away this time, pulling your hand and your phone to your chest.

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come,” you tell him, collecting your clothes quickly before escaping into his bathroom.

You can't help but feel a little pathetic as you cry harder once you’re in the relative privacy of his ensuite, a strange but familiar disappointment lancing through you when he doesn't come after you. However upon swinging the door back open once you’re dressed, you find Jake standing in front of his bed, sweatpants now fastened around his hips, and a determined expression on his features.

“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he tells you firmly, as if he has any say in what you do. You scoff at him, but don’t cover up your still dripping eyes. If anything, his resolve seems to strengthen.

“Look, be pissed at me, I deserve it, but I’m not letting you drive home when you’ve been drinking,” his voice leaves little room for argument, and even though in the back of your mind you know he’s actually being the decent version of himself right now, you can’t help but snarl at him in disgust.

“Fine! Then I’ll call an uber. I’m not staying here.'' You're aware you sound a little childish, and you feel a small pang of regret when Jake’s face flashes with hurt that is quickly covered up by sternness. Going against all the signs you’re putting out to him right now, Jake moves forward and stops your movements to find your shoes by laying both hands on your shoulders. When you look up at him, eyes still blinking away tears, he seems sincere and pleading.

“Just… just stay here, I’ll sleep in the lounge, alright? Just don’t go home like this.”

You want to snap at him that he has no right to ask that of you, but somehow you think he already knows that, and is still asking anyway. You realise dully, that just like you always wanted, Jake was chasing you now, though, you aren’t sure you really want it anymore.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you–” he cuts himself off, just as you shrug out of his hold.

“Please do not talk to me right now.” is all you can manage by way of agreeing to his terms.

You can barely bring yourself to look at him as he goes about collecting up his pillow and a spare blanket, and a part of you feels cruel, but the bigger part of you is proud that you’ve finally put your foot down. Maybe at some other time you’d let him talk, but right now all you can think about or hear is every moment prior to this night when he’s hurt you.

You’d hoped you’d at least be able to fall asleep somewhat fast, but the longer you lay there, the longer you go over and over every little detail of your night until you find yourself downstairs, wrapped up in the throw blanket from Jake’s bed, and standing a few feet away from him on the couch. He sits up immediately when he noticed you, chucking his phone down and focusing intently on you. You note he doesn’t open his mouth, or attempt to speak yet, and you almost regret telling him not to earlier.

You stare at one another hard, until you have to suppress a small hiccup, at which point you frustratedly wipe your face with the back of your hand and cross your arms in front of you.

“Why did you do that?” You ask, amazed your voice sounds as firm as it does. Jake stares up at you with a mixture of uncertainty and something you want to say is remorse but you can’t bring yourself to believe right now that he would be.

“I’m not good at this stu—”

“—No, tell me why you did it.” You cut him off, not willing to listen to his self-pity right now. Jake closes his mouth and blinks up at you, staring intently for a few moments before he shifts in his seat. “Did you miss me?” You prompt after he continues to stare, eyes somewhat pleading. You understand relationships and vulnerability are hard for him, you’re willing to give him this olive branch for now. To his credit, Jake immediately nods, his hands coming together across his spread thighs to wring anxiously.

“Yes. I’m sorry—”

“—If you ever try any of that shit again, I’m kicking your ass,” you tell him. Jake blinks, then straightens up, and nods again. Your lip wobbles and this time when he reaches a hand out for you, he doesn’t grab you, but waits for you to shuffle forward toward him before pulling you in.

He tugs you forward to come stand between his legs, and bows his forehead to rest against your abdomen, his hands anchored at your hips.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want you,” Jake mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, and you know this is a big admission for him.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel like it, but you can just, you know, tell me that…” you reply, letting your hands fall into his hair where you begin to smooth down some of the mess you made of it earlier. “I want you,” you say, realising while he may subconsciously know that, you’ve also never told him before. “I would never have let you mess me around if I didn’t,” you add with a short laugh, and flick his ear gently. Jake huffs, and lifts his head so he’s looking up at you now, chin resting on your belly.

“I don’t want you to date anyone else. I should have told you that back when I realised it…” he says softly, looking for the first time since you’ve known him like holding your eye contact is uncomfortable for him. “Is that okay?” He asks even quieter.

“Only if you don’t half ass it,” you peer down at him with playful scepticism.

Jake’s fingers at your hips tighten and his eyes narrow.

“I don’t half-ass anything,” he tells you sourly, before making a face. “Tonight notwithstanding.” he adds after a moment. You can’t help it then, you chortle, and hold the sides of his face. Jake smiles, seemingly proud of himself for making you laugh, and he adjusts his hold on you, moving his hands down to tug you into him, so your knees buckle and you’re forced to catch yourself on his shoulders just as he manoeuvres you to sit on his thigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says, far more seriously, leaning his forehead against yours now that you’re face to face. You cup his cheeks again, and dip forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You will be out on the curb so fast if you fuck me around again,” you tell him cheerfully, making him laugh this time.

“Noted,” he says, before he steals another kiss, longer this time.

When he pulls back at last, you feel yourself relax fully against him, and move to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asks after a few seconds. You nod, stifling a suspiciously timed yawn, and yelp a little when he scoops your legs under his arm and stands, grinning smugly all the way back upstairs.

#jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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ddejavvu · 6 months

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hi mei <3 could i request sirius x tattoo artist!reader where she is tattoing him and he is just in awe and gets so flirty cause cmon his girl is so hot when she works. hope you have a good day <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

i know that you are supposed to keep tattoos clean and sanitary for a certain period of time after having them first done but too bad reader licks his in this one because it's sexy

It's not Sirius's fault, really.

You're not in your parlor, you're hovering over him on your bed. You're in your pajamas still, a loose-fitting tank top and shorts that don't even cover your underwear, and you're on your hands and knees with a tattoo gun to his pec.

It's made impossibly sexier by the fact that you're tattooing your name on his chest, right above his heart.

Really, it's perfectly understandable that his dick is twitching in his boxers.

"You perv," You grumble, kneeing gently at his inner thigh. It's too close to where he'd rather not get hit, so he flinches, but you slap a palm on his chest to keep him steady. You shoot a glare his way, vicious and white-hot, and fuck, the neckline of your tank top is hanging low, and he can see your tits, completely unrestrained and hanging loose towards his own chest, and your hand left a red mark on his torso, and he can still feel the inked bite of the tattoo gun, and his dick twitches again, and-

He cums.

He cums completely untouched, save for your hand on his chest. His thighs tremble and you hold the tattoo gun away from his skin, watching with slowly-widening eyes as he spasms through his release.

He's more than embarrassed, but when your tongue darts out to lick over your lips, he thinks maybe he likes feeling humiliated.

"Damn." You conclude, inking the last stroke of your name over his chest, completing the tattoo. He flinches at the sting of the needle, and cranes his neck down to watch you with slightly teary eyes as you set the machine aside.

"That was pathetic," You scoff amusedly, putting pressure on his torso as you haul yourself further up the mattress towards him. You pointedly avoid granting any stimulation to his still-hard cock, but you straddle his waist, "Cumming untouched from a tattoo? That's next-level desperate."

As much as he wants to tell you to fuck off, you're right. You're right, and it makes his cock throb, and his slightly teary eyes watch as you duck your head down to his chest.

You stick your tongue out to lick over the searing skin of your name on his chest, dragging it all the way up his throat and over his parted lips, "I like desperate."

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months

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Having to share a bed with Gojo Satoru at a love hotel

Listen...I've got a little carried away by this one. While I'm currently writing for Geto and Toji, this part will only contain Gojo as it ended up so damn long. Hope you still enjoy <3

Part l (Megumi, Nanami, Yuta)

Part lll (Toji, Geto, Haibara, Choso)

Sharing a bed with JJk men pt ll

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k (this was supposed to be a cute little one shot lol)

Warnings: No real smut, but it's getting REALLY spicy - you have been warned...

Synopsis: After pretending to be in a relationship with Gojo for some time, the two of you seem to be the perfect match for a mission at a love hotel.

It is ridiculous. You both know that all too well. Will it stop you from pretending to be Gojo’s girlfriend even though you aren’t more than friends? Absolutely not. You’ve been doing this for a while now, at the beginning only to take him as your plus one to a wedding and for him to fake proposals at restaurants for free meals. You are very aware of the fact that this is already going too far, especially when you consider that whole Jujutsu High seems to believe you.

“Hello there Gojo-bear!”, you cry out.

But it’s just way too fucking funny and comfortable to stop now. The thing is, it has a whole lot of benefits: easier missions, raises over raises, less trouble because everyone seems to fear your ‘boyfriend’ but most importantly you get to spend some time with Satoru himself. You hate to admit it, but the way he smiles down at you and wraps his arm around your waist does things to you you’d never say out loud.

“There you are honey!”, he replies with a sly grin, embracing you in his arms just like he always does.

The problem is, you just know that it isn’t more for him than a joke. Your heart stings in agony just thinking about the way he immediately scoots away from you as soon as nobody’s around anymore. To Satoru, you really are nothing more than a friend he enjoys to spend time and mess with.

“Yikes, why is this so cringe?”, Nobara mutters.

“Just wait until you find your true love, kids”, Satoru shouts towards them.

Fuck that ass eating smile of him and the way it makes your heart flutter. It’s all a lie and nothing else. Nothing but a made up story. Remember that.

“Satoru, (y/n). I have a mission for you. Follow me.”

The harsh voice of Masamichi Yaga pulls you out of your distress. A mission for both of you? Normally Satoru is sent alone. After all, he is the strongest and every other jujutsu sorcerer is only in his way. What is it that makes him think it is a good idea to send the both of you together?

“We were informed about a curse that killed over 100 couples within the span of a few weeks in several love hotels located in Tokyo. As you guys are the most disgusting couple I’ve ever seen, both of you were assigned to stay at the love hotel with the greatest number of deaths and exorcise that curse once and for all. Understood?”

It’s like your world turns upside down. Did you really hear that correctly? This has to be a joke, right? Ain’t no way he really thinks you and Satoru…Your gaze wanders to his shamelessly gorgeous face that seems as unbothered as usual. Of course. Everyone thinks you are a couple. Therefore, you are a perfect fit for this mission.

“Nothing easier than that. Just send me the location and we’ll get this done in no time. Right honey?”

“Right…”, you mumble.

“You know what that means, right?”, you hiss into his ear after leaving the director’s office.

“Yeah, a free night in a luxurious hotel on the back of the school!”

“No.”

You sign. How the hell is he so unmoved by all of this? Not even Satoru can be too dumb to realize what staying in a love hotel in order to exorcise a curse means…Right?

“If this curse only shows up in front of couples at love hotels then…then…”

Your mouth refuses to say it out loud. No, you are too prideful to confess to him that it makes your knees go weak and your heart bang inside your chest. Why do you bother anyway? You stretch your shoulders and look at him, face hardened.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

The ride into the heart of Tokyo is longer than you remember it, considering Satoru is sitting right beside you and watching anime on his phone.

“Damn, this part gets me every time”, he almost sobs.

“How often did you watch that already?”

“I lost count at 17. What is that look on your face? Don’t you know what happens next?”

“I never watched that one”, you admit, casually shrugging your shoulders.

Satoru drops his phone, intense gaze piercing through you even though he’s wearing glasses.

“You’ve got to be kidding right? You are my girlfriend and you never-“

Thick silence, your eyes widen at the sound of this words coming from his mouth. Girlfriend? Did he actually say that?

“I mean fake girlfriend of course. Just getting ready for later I guess”, he adds along with scratching the back of his head.

“Sure”, you reply automatically.

Can your heart just stop beating so damn loud? This is ridiculous, it was a slip of the tongue and nothing more.

“Listen, (y/n)…As soon as we step through the door of that hotel, you have to be my girlfriend”, he instructs you in a dead serious voice.

“No need to tell me, Gojo-bear…”, you comment dryly, more directed towards yourself than him.

After all, it is you whose love isn’t just a funny little prank. Your feelings are more than real, considering you can almost hear your heart shattering like fragile glass. How stupid it was to even think he could somehow feel the same way, that it’s more than a game to him. Who knows how much time he spends with other women behind your back…

“This is it. Are you ready?”

Get. Yourself. Together. You smile confidently and nod. Being in love with Gojo Satoru might be senseless, but revealing your true feelings towards him is even worse. No, you are way too prideful to give him that. Without thinking twice you grab his hand tightly just like you did multiple times before. You will get through this and bring this madness to an end after this mission.

“Hey, we’ve booked a room here for two.”

“The name?”, the man behind the desk asks while eyeing you intensely.

Fuck, don’t let your face turn red, withstand his gaze. Maybe he’s asking himself why a man like Satoru is with a girl like you…

“Gojo Satoru.”

“There you go. Feel free to use the elevator and call immediately if something is strange. Please check out before midday. Have a nice stay.”

“We sure will!”, Satoru replies with a cheeky grin before taking the key card and maneuvering you into the elevator.

“God, I can’t wait to be alone with you baby.”

You feel like choking while staring at him. Did he really just say that, is this for real?

“Listen, (y/n)…As soon as we step through the door of that hotel, you have to be my girlfriend”

Your heart sinks. Calm down, idiot. It’s only for the mission. You never know when and where the curse is, so it just makes sense to play along until it shows up. Reluctantly you smile at him with dead eyes. Why does this hurt so fucking badly? You pretended to be his girlfriend for more than a year now and it never bothered you that he held your hand and called you stupid nicknames. But this…This is something completely different. You are at a love hotel and Satoru is straight up trying to seduce you. How the hell are you supposed to feel about all of this?

“Let’s go, shall we?”

His hand rests on your hip while he leads you to the right room with ease. It feels like his hand burns against your skin, suddenly the air is way too hot to breathe properly. You want to get out of here, away from Satoru but at the same time you need him so much closer…What has gotten into you?

“Hey, no need to be nervous babe, I got you”, he breathes against your outer ear.

“I just…never done something like this. That’s all”, you admit dryly while avoiding his gaze at all cost.

“I’ll guide you, no worries.”

He closes the door behind you and cages your body with his. You are trapped between Satoru’s arms, no way to escape his intense stare and the way his large frame feels pressed against yours. At this point it seems like all of your senses and the ability to interact have simply vanished from your body. His gaze is…filthy, completely occupied by lust as it seems. You feel like your knees will give in any minute, heart almost pounding out of your chest while blood begins to pulsate between your legs. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Are you fainting? What is this feeling?

“I’ll make you feel the way you deserve it”, Satoru rasps.

Before you can react, he lifts you in the air with ease and throws you on the soft bed in the middle of the room.

“S-satoru…I-I…never done this”, you repeat with choked voice, sweat dripping down your face while you desperately try to stop yourself from wincing.

God, he makes you feel so weak with the way his eyes hungrily linger over your body and seem to swallow you whole.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

And then it happens. His lips brush against yours. Slowly at first, almost sweetly. You close your eyes, hands automatically grabbing his strong biceps in a frantic attempt to get a hold of this situation. Is all of this a dream? Impossible. The way his arms are wrapped around you while his unmistakable scent fills the air around is way too real for that. Satoru picks up the pace, his tongue inviting itself into your mouth to get instantly into a tangled dance with yours. Fuck, this feels so good, almost like you’re on drugs – addicted to his touch and kisses.

“Satoru”, you literally moan into his parted lips.

You need to feel his body even closer, his touch a little rougher, his lips even better. You want more. No, you need more. More of the drug that only Satoru Gojo seems to be able to give you.

“I-I need more”, you stutter, eyes gleaming in pleasure.

“I would give you the world, (y/n). Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long…”

“How much I hate all of these fucking happy couples. Die! All of you, die!”

It’s like you get hit by a train when the distorted voice of a stranger fills the room with hatred and disgust. Satoru’s body blocks the view of the curse making its way through the ceiling at the speed of light. Automatically, you claw into his upper arms for hold.

“Took you quite some time to get here. I was almost afraid that you wouldn’t show up for our rendez-vous.”

“Would you mind letting me go for a second, darling?”, he words addressed to you.

Your hands let go of him immediately, body rolling to the other side of the bed in order to give Satoru the room he needs. The fight itself doesn’t take long. In fact, you aren’t even able to catch a glimpse at the curse before the room is lit up in purple, lilac glibber raining down on the bed with pieces of the ceiling, threatening to hit you right in your face. Pressing your eyes shut, you surrender to your fate. Not the first time you get covered in the remaining of some disgusting curse…

“Do you really think I’d let you get covered in this? You don’t know me well, darling.”

When you open your eyes again, you aren’t greeted by lilac glibber. In fact, it stopped right before hitting you with full force. You let out your breath you didn’t know you were holding, gaze finding Satoru’s bright blue orbs that seem to glitter.

“I’d say we smashed that mission”, he proudly announces, shaking the remaining of the ceiling and curse away from both of you while lifting himself off the bed.

You slowly get up from your trance, heart completely shattering at his words. You smashed the mission? Is this everything he is able to think about? Just seconds ago he laid on top of you, his tongue in your mouth while he told you over and over the finest things you ever heard from him. Everything nothing but…a lie? You want to get away from him as soon as possible, the pictures of him and you burn into your heart like a fuel rod. It was all just a game for him, a necessary price he had to pay to complete the mission.

“Thank god we did”, you hiss and abruptly jump out of bed, body swaying back and forth in dizziness.

Salty tears start to burn in your eyes, flooding over any second. No, don’t cry. What about your pride, how you always carried yourself with your head held high? A sob shakes your body before you can stop it. Fuck all of that. This hurts like hell.

“Hey, what is going on? Are you sad because I didn’t let you have your moment with that curse? Y’know, he was a pretty weak grade 1 any-“

“Is all of this a joke to you?”, you yell into his face, tears now running like a waterfall while your chest feels like it’s going to explode.

Satoru’s eyes widen in horror. Fuck, he never saw you like this. And the worst is that he seems to be the cause of your tears.

“You’re anything but a joke to me, (y/n)”, he replies dead serious.

“All the things you said were nothing but a big lie! All these kisses meant nothing to you!”, you cry out.

“(y/n)-“

“They did to me though. I never shared a bed with a man before, Satoru. It was special to me.”

Your voice sounds so defeated that Satoru instinctively gets up and walks towards you.

“But it was special to me too, (y/n)! It was always more than just pretending for me.”

“Stop kidding me. This pretending comes to an end right now. From now on, I’m not your fake girlfriend anymore.”

“Good, that’s what I wanted to say.”

You nod to yourself while his cruel words hit you like a wall all over again. So this is how it comes to an end. You always knew that sooner or later, you wouldn’t be able to keep up with the lies anymore. How were you supposed to build a future on top of a pile of foul lies? It was beneficial as long as it lasted. You shouldn’t have expected more from the start.

“I don’t want you to be my fake girlfriend anymore. Please, just make it real and official. I loved you this whole time (y/n). It always felt better to pretend than to potentially not having you at all. Today showed me that I can’t be without you, that I want to share a bed with you every night and not just for a mission. I’m beggin’ on my knees if I have to, please be my girlfriend.”

Time stands still, you are unable to move as your mind desperately tries to process what he just said. He want you to be his girlfriend…for real?

“Stop messing around with me, Gojo”, you warn him.

But a little voice inside you tells you that he isn’t lying, that his face tells nothing but the truth. Can it really be that the Gojo Satoru wants you to be his girlfriend? Your skin starts to prickle while your heartbeat picks up in an instant. Please let this be real…

“I’m not. I want to hold you like I did before that fucking curse appeared every hour of the day and not just when someone’s around, (y/n).”

“But…Why did you always break away from me when we were alone? You could have just told me, I-“

You stop. You did it just like him. Pretended that it’s nothing but a stupid joke to you, that Satoru didn’t mean more than a friend does. You told yourself over and over that your feelings aren’t real, that you are just a good actor. Oh, but it was so much more. It is so much more.

“I did the same”, you confess your thoughts to him.

“Please, (y/n). Let’s make it real, no pretending anymore. Be by my side.”

His hands gently cup your face while your arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

“Nothing better than that”, you mutter before pressing your lips against his.

“You know, that bed is still looking good and we’ve booked for a night…”

“Let’s not waste the precious money of Jujutsu High, then”, you moan while he bites down your neck.

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wxnheart · 9 months

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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

On today's episode of "My Simpin' Ass Friend Asks Horny Ass Questions", we're taking a thirsty ass look at boxer!Miguel thanks to a conversation that was had about what we now dub the Boxerverse. Because of reasons.

sequel/prequel

Boxer!Miguel who floats like a butterfly but stings like a bee. He's good at keeping up the gruff and stoic demeanor in the ring. Outside, he's a giant armored teddy bear. Especially where you're concerned.

Boxer!Miguel who considers you his personal good luck charm. Since getting together with him, he's made you part of his pre-match ritual.

Said ritual is usually done away from prying eyes. Just you two, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, being in the moment, and doing some synchronized breathing exercises to release anxious energy. Especially yours. Kinda makes his heart flutter the way you fret over him before every match. A kiss on your forehead and he's off.

Boxer!Miguel who always gets that burst of energy every time he hears you cheering from the sidelines. He tried and failed to convince you to tone it down because you once cheered so loudly that you lost your voice after one match.

It's endearing the way you worry about him after every match, too. Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. The bruising will go away before you even know it.

Boxer!Miguel who loves your hand-care routine. Yeah, he takes care of his hands well enough but you take the extra step. An ice pack is all well and good but a nice hand massage with some oat, honey, and milk-scented body butter is absolutely excellent.

Boxer!Miguel who's amused because no matter how many times he's taught you, you still struggle with wrapping his hands. Yeah, you're cute when you furrow your brow in concentration.

Boxer!Miguel who'd train relentlessly if you didn't stop him. Well, he did train relentlessly (which really helped him to expend all that anxious energy) before you met him but he knows he's playing a losing game when you argue him down about taking a break. Sure thing, boss.

Boxer!Miguel who loves to feel the expanse of skin under his calloused knuckles as he affectionately runs them over your cheek. You were always awed by the power of his punches but he never ceased to amaze you with the gentleness of his touch. No wonder you loved his hands so damn much.

#cutie 𝓠.#marvel #marvel x reader #spiderman #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #boxerverse #spiderman 2099 #boxer au

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appleblueberry-pie · 9 days

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You Deserve More Than Me

There wasn't a time when you didn't see scars littering Miles's skin. It strikes your curiosity as much as it makes you concerned. They looks so cool on him, but why were there so many in the first place.

He never seemed to get in trouble at school, though. So it had to be sometime before or after school when he was doing...something. But he was just a closed-off scholar. At least, that's how you saw him. He always smiled at you, spoke with you often, was gentle with his words and volume when conversating, and was also gentle with his touches, too.

His hands were littered with the most scars. Little healed slits covering the backs of his hands, even though they were moisturized and beautiful looking. And his palms....you'd able to tell it was him based off of those alone. They were never too cold or too warm. They were rough. Detailed and ingrained with hard work he obviously had been putting his time into. Never catching a break, yet never wearing down. You admired how they felt, and how beautiful they still managed to look. Everything about him was a surprise to you.

When you'd see his sleeve pull up a little, or he'd stretch and the bottom of his shirt lifted to reveal scarred skin, you'd point it out. He'd say the same thing about them every time. "I'm good. It's nothing to worry about. Promise." And his smile would be enough to convince you to drop the topic.

Miles had multiple scars resting on his young skin. Yeah, his hands were hard working, but the rest of him worked harder. If he ran his hand across his chest in one slow and detailed stroke, he'd feel about 2 years worth of his second life that took what's owed. He can't recall where some scars came from what unless they were too big to ignore. His arms and forearms looked hauntingly beautiful, a silent story never to be forgotten, forever a memory of what once was and still is true about him to this day.

His back took most of the falls for him. He fell so many times on his back, it doesn't even hurt anymore when it happens. But if he thinks hard enough about those moments when it did happen, he could feel the sting as if it was still there.

But if only he could put into words why this all connects back to you. If only he could explain to you that this was done to keep your streets safe, your mind clear. He would love to confess his emotions to you, but only lord knows how much more strength he'd need to even face you before even uttering such sacred words. You deserve so much more than him, so to try and match what he thinks is best for you, he blends with the night to pretend to be someone he's not to break his skin for you.

He doesn't know how you'd feel if you found out how much of his life he'd spent just to be able to surround you in his life. So much of what's on his skin was there because he wanted to make you proud and see you smile again. And it's not like he can stop now, he's already sharing two classes with you and he'd be damned if he had to give it up. If 5 months of lurking on the streets, making deals for money, and lowering the crime rate of his city means being able to share a class with you, then so be it. He'll bleed a few more times just to be a little bit closer to you, he has no shame.

His selfishness for you runs deeper than the thoughts in his head. It shows through his actions and the skin he tears over and over again just for it to heal and turn to see your face another time.

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rfaromance · 1 year

Note

kissing Saeyoung's hands!!!

"It doesn't even hurt!"

"Please don't fuss over this!"

"I'm telling you, honey butter, I'm fine!"

Saeyoung's protests fell on deaf ears as you dragged him to the bathroom, where the lighting was better. You didn't care what he had to say; the cut on his hand looked nasty, and you weren't going to risk letting anything happen to your lover.

"Look, it's not even bleeding anymore!"

You snorted as you pushed him against the countertop. "Sit," you ordered, and with a grumble Saeyoung obediently plopped himself on the counter. "It is still bleeding!" you wailed in dismay, as you held his hand up to the light.

"So you can hear me."

"Saeyoung Choi!"

Hastily you dug out first aid supplies from the cabinet. As you searched for bandages and ointments, you could spot a dark hoodie shuffling out of the corner of your eye. "Don't even think about leaving," you snapped. "You are getting patched up here and now!"

The shuffling stopped.

Heaving a huge sigh, you returned to Saeyoung with supplies in tow. Carefully you reached past him to turn on the faucet, soaking and soaping a washcloth. You then turned back to Saeyoung and gently grabbed his injured hand. He didn't resist you this time, but rather tutted dramatically as you began to dab at the wound.

"Saeyoung... how in the world did you manage this?"

"One of my babies is in her rebellious teen phase."

"You mean there could be OIL in here, and you weren't going to let me clean it?" The horror and exasperation in your voice were powerful enough to make him wince.

"It's really not a big deal," he began, but you firmly squeezed his hand to shut him up.

After you'd wiped off the dry blood, you were able to see his injury clearly for the first time. A gash on the side of his hand, running from the bottom of his pinky finger to the top of his wrist. "This is the length of your palm," you fretted.

"Couldn't even tell."

His tone was different, somehow. He'd stopped arguing but also was acting less blasé. Now he just sounded... tired. Resigned. Hollow.

"It really doesn't hurt?" you asked softly. Carefully you put the washcloth in the sink, and you reached out to get the antibiotic ointment. "It didn't even sting when I washed it?"

"Not even a tickle."

You didn't want to believe him, but as you spread the ointment over his injury, he didn't flinch once. You gave his palm an experimental squeeze, wondering if he'd react. "Shoot!"

The pressure had opened the cut once again.

"I felt that," Saeyoung commented as you grabbed the washcloth again to dab at the edges of the wound. "It just... felt no different than picking up a shoe or opening a doorknob."

You reapplied the antibiotic that you had wiped off, furrowing your brow as thoughts raced around in circles in your head. Had his fingers always been this calloused? Had his knuckles always been covered with this many old, faded scars? Had his fingers, thin as they are, always been this muscular? Your own hands suddenly felt so feeble, so flimsy, as you began winding gauze around his hand, over and over.

"I can't afford to feel too much pain," was all he offered in explanation. "Not the way I've lived.

"Hands like mine don't deserve tender care from someone like you."

Having just put on the last stretch of bandages, you looked up at him with sorrow in your eyes. Much to your dismay, he was looking up at the ceiling, perhaps unable to meet your gaze.

You didn't know the full extent of the things that he had done to keep himself and Saeran alive; you didn't particularly care. All that mattered was that you knew he undertook those actions and made those choices in the name of love. He was a good person.

He had stopped trying to push you away, so why did he have to talk as if he was still damning himself? Did he plan to live the remainder of his life joyfully, but then spend his afterlife in flames? You didn't quite know or understand his feelings on that matter.

But you did know you loved him, and that he deserved every reminder you could give him.

"Your hands can't feel anything anymore?" you murmured, the lilt in your voice clearly prompting him for an answer.

"If only."

The detached, distant expression on Saeyoung's face immediately melted away, replaced by one of awe, caution, fear, and wonder, as your lips began to peck at each and every one of his knuckles. Then his fingertips. Then his (bandaged) palm. You even nudged the injured side of his hand with your nose, gently so as not to aggravate the wound. "Nothing at all?"

His tearful golden eyes met yours directly as he whispered, "Maybe there's something after all."

#saeyoung choi #Luciel Choi #707 #707 x reader #mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #gn!reader #thanks for the ask!#anon #This is LARGELY the fault of pastelsapphy and marshmallowprotection >:T /nm

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666yourmomdotcom · 1 year

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A little sub Nete for all the hoes

Good GOD I have too much time on my hands (and still not enough to get my shit done??? WTF)

Anyways here’s a drabble/head cannon of sub Nete (ALSO I HAVE NEVER POSTED SMUT B4 PLS DON’T BE MEAN TO ME)

Warnings- I literally just said tf. Nah jk, orgasm denial, no use of fem pronouns I don’t think?? Sub Neteyam, cursing

***

“Eywa baby please” he whines, writhing on your matt desperately

He was truly, quite a sight to be seen as he lay there with his cock and lower stomach all covered in your spit and pre-cum, sweating, panting and his hands in fists as he desperately tried to keep them away from your hair.

You’d been denying him an orgasm for the past thirty minutes or so and he was about to break.

You ran just one finger up and down the underside of his cock, watching him shudder and shake at the slightest touch. “Nngh yawne, I’m gonna—” you quickly retracted your hand and he let out a cry of displeasure as you let out a derisive laugh “Just from that? How desperate are you?”

“So desperate, so desperate, please sweetheart” he begged you. You hum through your nose as you take one glance up and down him, you gently take his hand in yours and he clutches it tight enough to break the bones, but you pay no mind to that. “Make it till ten and you can cum, before that I’ll ruin it for you”

He audibly whimpers, face full of distain and you can see his own self-doubt “I know you can do it pretty boy; don’t you want to cum?” he nods vigorously “Where?”

“In you—I-inside you” You chuckle and crawl up his body until your sitting on his pelvis, the look on his face is so desperate, you almost felt bad for him. Almost. You rub your finger over his bottom lip, he’s clinging to any physical touch you give him as he kisses your finger over and over. You guide his face to yours and give him a sweet kiss, as you line his cock up and slowly sink down on him. You’ve learned to love the sting after so many nights of having sex, the pain and the pleasure enticed and exited you at the same time.

Neteyam was moaning pathetically into your mouth, he could even kiss you back for all the noise he was making. “God damn” he cried quietly. “Ready?” he can only nod.

You begin to ride him, slowly so he’ll at least have a chance to make it. “One” he lifts his hand up and bites the back of it to quiet himself.

“Two” the tortured look on his face is so sexy you cant help it, you wish you had a human camera to capture the way his eyes are pinched closed and his nose wrinkled.

“Three” Actual tears are falling down his cheeks now, though his eyes are tightly closed.

“Four” his abs are flexing violently as he throws his head back, so desperate to cum yet trying not do so at the same time.

“Fffive” you drawl, rubbing your hand on his chest and feeling his racing heartbeat

“Six”

“Seven” He snatches his hand away and clutches his hair with both hands, looking down to where you’re fucking hum and then groaning and throwing his head back again.

“Eight, just two more baby” he’s actually crying now, frustration, stimulation and pleasure all mix in his head.

“Nine. You can touch Nete” his hands leave his hair to grasp your hips tightly, he’s breathing raggedly and sniffling in between breaths

“…Ten”

His whole back arches off of the ground, making sure his whole dick is inside as his body shakes and pleasure consumes his whole being like a tidal wave. He’s grasping your hips so hard, fucking you up and down on him like a ragdoll as he rides through his orgasm. “O-oh y/n” A few more sloppy thrusts and he collapses back onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling in a sort of drunken haze.

You watch him adoringly as you stroke his face, his lips, his jaw. He’s not quite back from whatever you did to him, so you wait patiently for a few more moments until his mind clears.

“Holy…”

You laugh and kiss his forehead, sliding him out of you gently, you can feel maybe two tablespoons of cum drip down your legs as you do. “I don’t think I’ve cum that hard in my entire life,” he says breathlessly, then turns to you, sitting up “Thank you yawne. I love you” “I love you too pretty” you coo, nuzzling your nose to his “Let’s get cleaned up”

#Neteyam smut #Neteyam Sully #Neteyam #Neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut imagine #neteyam imagine #neteyam oneshot #neteyam fluff #neteyamsully

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edgeray · 17 days

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One Hell of a Butler Pt. 4

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Having the shittiest week of my life I think, school has never deicded to screw me as hard as it does now. Should I be doing this instead of studying/preparing for a really big test tomorrow? No, but I needed to get this out of my system before I start locking in. Sorry for not very good writing. Wanted to give reader a personality, so sorry if not too much of Arlecchino, and not a lot like yourself. I had fun writing reader at least. Series Masterlist Content warning: semi-graphic violence done on the reader, blood, swearing, y'all probably hate me for the ending

When you stepped on this path, you knew that you would be endangering your life, though you had justified the risks with your perfected revenge–even if it meant prancing on the road to hell. With acknowledgement of this indubitable fact, you persisted on, even though you knew next to nothing about this walk of life. You, engaging with the underground and the scum of the city, pretending to be one of them, to be able to walk among them?

You had gotten arrogant. Having a demon butler does that to you, apparently.

You always were a good bluffer, a good poker face, a pretty liar. You were smart, knew how to spin a half-truth into a neatly arranged pile of bullshit with a bow on top. Yet you should have known that that would be your downfall. After all, when your life and revenue relied on your word one would think you knew better than to come a client, no?

Well, it was their fault for believing it. Why did you have to be the one to pay?

You really hate the taste of iron in your mouth. You wipe the blood from the corner of your lips with your knuckle and stagger back a bit to stand up more right, clutching your bruised cheek in your hand.

“Are you done running away?” One of the men that surrounds you asks.

“Why, you tired already?” You snark back with a sneer that promptly gains you a kick to your stomach, sending an ache to your stomach. Tumbling to the alley floor, you grit your teeth to repress any more noises of agony.

Only you had to have summoned the slowest demon on Earth. Damn it, what was taking her so long? You should have taken her with you tonight.

Your eyes skitter around for anything you could use, but it seems that all you're surrounded by is garbage until you catch the glint of something.

“Keep mouthing off. You won't be able to do that for much longer. He wants us to bring you in mint condition, but as long as you can still talk, we can do whatever we want with you,” the same man that kicked you responded, crouching down right before your lying figure. A hand grips your strands, your scalp burning as he tugs your head up to his eye level.

“Fucking bitch.” If she doesn't show up in two minutes, you swear to hell you will act more of a demon than she is the next time you see her.

A palm slams against one side of your face, and an audible slap reverberates throughout the alley way. Your cheek stings and your ears ring from the whiplash. Tears nearly well up in the corner of your eyes. One of your hands rummage through the pieces of junk behind you, before finding and clasping around the neck of a glass bottle.

“That's all it took to shut you up, huh?” the man smirked maliciously. He raises another hand to assault you before you swing your arm, bringing the bottle to the side of his head. The glass shatters upon impact and your assailant reels back. Unfortunately, as you attempt another swipe at him, a hard fist meets your cheek, and you're out in an instant.

Your last thoughts are on how to reprimand a demon.

The first thought when you wake up is that your neck hurts. Though you can't see–likely because of a blindfold–you feel that you're tied up to a chair with some sturdy rope, and there's a rag of some sort in your mouth, secured behind your head.

And damn it, you can still taste the blood in your mouth.

So you've been kidnapped.

Despite the incessant attempts of steadying your breath, you can't seem to relax your drumming heart and the anxiety that pricks underneath your skin. You squirm in your binds, causing the chair you're seated on to make an awful screech when it moves. It pierces your ear drums, and an expletive is muffled by your gag.

Your futile struggling gains the attraction of someone in the room and footsteps begin to approach until they stop right in front of you. There’s the shuffling of some clothes, as you feel fingers reach in front and take out the rag from your mouth.

Beneath the fear, you can't help the seething, brimming fury that builds inside of you. You spit in whoever’s face that decides to touch you. You know you've hit your mark when profanities are thrown your way. A smug grin makes its way up your face, until it's slapped off your face, the whiplash causes your ears to ring and your head to be foggy.

“Stupid woman. I'll make it simple for you. I know you know what we want.”

Collecting some courage and a bit of your sass as a shield, you take a deep breath. Remaining silent, you ponder which client this one was. Knitting your eyebrows in puzzlement, you ask audaciously, “Who are you again?”

“I'll give you one chance. Tell us, and we'll let you go.”

You couldn't help yourself and let out an amused chuckle, throwing your head back. Your giggle dies after a few seconds and you lazily tilt your head towards his direction.

“So you really think I'm that stupid?” You shot back with a cutting remark. “You're a shit liar. You didn’t even once consider letting me go. Why would you let go of a skilled information broker when you have her right here? I would have considered giving you the answer, but I changed my mind since you decided to lie in front of my face. Fucker.”

The speaker audibly grinded his teeth and before you can mentally brace for it, a hard force slams into your chest, and you swear you hear something crack at the impact. Agony blossoms from your sternum, and the faintest tears well up in the corner of your eyes. The hit is enough to make the chair tumble back, making your head bang painfully against the hard, cold floor.

The male walks towards you and stops right next to your ear. Something cold and gunpowder-y smelling presses against your skull–a gun, you think. “Keep acting like a smartass and you won't live for much longer.”

As you're about to answer, you feel the temperature drop immediately, the room suddenly becoming chilly. You've never been more grateful for the frigidity–it was about time she showed up, stupid demon servant taking so long. “You should worry about your life first,” you merely suggested with the most diabolic of smiles.

The familiar sound of stilettos click against the floor, becoming louder and louder as it nears, and her fury is eminent–almost exuding out of her like the stench of death that follows.

“Where are my guards? What did you do to them?” The man demands, his voice cracking from the evident fright, as he steps back. A bang pierces through the room, gunshot after gunshot is shot, presumably at Arlecchino, until the gun starts clicking. He must have ran out of bullets. You're not particularly worried for your butler, in fact, depraved glee is the only thing that you feel. The smile doesn't stop stretching over your face. You really wish you could see the sight; that is, Arlecchino's unharmed form and the man's shocked face.

Arlecchino's response almost makes you forgive her for being late instantly. “Where are they? Don't worry. You'll be with them soon enough.”

For the briefest point of time, you felt a smidge of sympathy for your attacker. No amount of bullets can kill her.

Bloodcurdling screams echo throughout the room, making you cringe– although you were glad that the man was suffering, the noise is horrendous and earsplitting. The distinct noise of flesh being ripped off and then a god awful sound of a crunch follows after, silencing the man once and for all. The intense stank of iron fills your nostrils.

“I apologize for subjecting you to such repulsive cries, my Lady. I couldn't contain myself,” Arlecchino’s voice finally reaches out to you and her footsteps approach you. Firstly, the blindfold is pulled up, giving back your vision as you can finally see for a while. The first thing you're met with is your butler's face, who is unsurprisingly unmarred. However, there is a tight knit in her brows in her otherwise blank expression, a tension unseen before in the demon.

Concern, you skeptically guess, forms on her face. It's foreign, perhaps the first time you've seen it before on her. Seeing something like that, you suddenly experience a sensation more unsavory tasting than the metallic tang of your blood. It's bitter, perhaps. An inexplicable unease bubbles within you, and your skin burns like a scorching torch grazing up your skin. Why does her expression generate this sort of reaction?

"You're late," you manage out, swallowing thickly any previous unease, your tone expressing evident annoyance. She hums in response. Raising a clawed finger, she slices your bounds easily, freeing you.

“My apologies,” she says, and you note that she lacks the usual refinement in her words. “Finding you proved to be a bit difficult.”

There's a brief pause and she helps you stand and you regard the room you're in. The pungent smell of iron fills the room, coming from beyond the doorway in which you can see some of the remnants of the bodies that Arlecchino killed. You direct your attention away from such a horrid sight. How she was able to cause this massacre without making any noise, you couldn't fathom.

It's not the first time she's been the center of a slaughter. In a disturbing way, it's almost nostalgic, reminiscent of your first meeting with Arlecchino, when you've summoned her at your greatest time of need. Broken and desperate you were, you screamed out your final plea which no god acknowledged before she did. You were pleading to live. But now, just minutes before, you were practically taunting death. Have six months accompanying a demon changed you that much?

A brief contact pulls you away from your thoughts when you feel something cold press against the corner of your lips. You flick your attention to Arlecchino as your heart leapt at the sudden movement. Her thumb wipes away the blood that seeps with a tender stroke.

"You're hurt," the demon says almost matter-of-factly if it weren't for how curt it seemed–like there was an urgency with those two words. You repress the urge to question her odd behavior.

“Incredible observation,” you sarcastically remark and you try to brush away her hand, except she grips your chin in between her fingers. Turning your head, before you could react, you feel something cold, yet soft press gently into your bruised cheek. It's a fleeting touch, but instantaneously, you feel heat blossom from the source of contact–incredibly hot, as if your skin is lit ablaze just from mere lips. Arlecchino pulls away quickly, and your fingers dab the tingling skin where she touched. You expect to feel the aching soreness, but instead, you feel nothing–as if the bruise was never there in the first place.

“What did you do?” You ask in puzzlement. The butler's lip curls up into an amused smirk, most likely enjoying your confusion.

“I healed you.”

“I wasn't aware a demon had the ability to do that.” Let alone with that method, anyways…

“Just another ability of mine as a demon. You know…”

She extends one hand out, using her pointer finger to tilt your chin up, invoking you to gaze into her red-crossed irises. They flicker with a wanton desire when they find your eyes, and there's a deliberate sweep of her tongue over her red lips. Shivers run down your spine as she approaches closer, and her other arm circles your waist with the other hand flat against your lower back. She leans in until she's gazing directly down at you, hot air tickles your nose as she exhales.

Your heart pounds in your ears, making every other sense of yours except touch fade. Your sensitivity to touch is heightened, making every small brush create goosebumps. Your lips part into a small gasp from her action. Why do you suddenly feel so inexplicably hot?

“Your lips seem bruised as well.”

She leans down to close the distance. Your heart races and races until you’re convinced it'll explode as she nears. At the last moment, you jerk your head away.

“No. No, they're not,” you exhale out breathlessly in between pants. Your cheeks burn fiercely, hardly able to hear your own words from your thundering heartbeat in your ears.

Arlecchino stiffens immediately, before leaning back. You're grateful for the added distance, feeling the abrupt weight on your shoulders lifted. You dare glance over her expression. Once more, you're met with another emotion you've never seen before on her. A subtle frown with pursed lips alongside the smallest narrowing of her brows tells the disappointment in her dark abysses. The blackened arms fall away from your body, and for the strangest reason, you want her touch to linger.

The bitterness in your mouth returns.

“Get me out of here, Arlecchino,” is all you can say. The demon stares at you for several moments, before closing her eyes and hardening her face, the confounding expression gone in an instant. Suddenly, she becomes familiar again.

“As you wish, my Lady.”

You think you prefer getting beaten the shit out of over the gnawing sensation in your chest. Your heart swells achingly. You can’t fathom why.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fic #genshin fics #arlecchino #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #edgeray.writes #edgeray.blog

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roseadleyn · 1 year

Note

CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO MORE YANDERE CASSIS FICS

i would never abandon you guys after you sent asks like these

i'm sorry if this took too long. i'm still busy and this took me time, i do hope it was worth the wait though!! enjoy <33

WHY DO I STILL FUCKING MISS YOU? || Cassis Pedelian.

tw: hints of abuse, sexual implications, said sexual implictions are dubcon, obsession, reader is on the breaking point and falls off of said breaking point

this is cassis after the timeskip

'Sweetheart.' His voice is like honey, sweet and rich and deep, but in your dazed and hazy state, all it does is pull at your sanity even more. 'I need to go.'

You hadn't slept.

How could you? How could you do anything except stare, and stare, and stare into blind nothingness, with hot, stinging eyes, because you were in the embrace of a man who claimed to love you, yet he isolated you from your life and the world and everyone you ever knew, and locked you up in dark, dark rooms where you were all alone, and did such unforgivable, terrible things to you? How could you sleep?

Your captor's hands ruffled your hair. You knew he had seen your state of unhappy consciousness, and you knew he was waiting for a reply.

The thing was... as messed up as it was... you didn't want him to leave. If Cassis left for the day like he usually did, it meant you would be doing nothing the entire day, just lying there in silk and lace, waiting for him like some kind of toy. When he was here — and when you actually behaved — it was at least a relief to have another human being in the same room, someone who ran their hands through your hair and rubbed your tired, weary shoulders, someone who talked and even told you stories about his day. You had read almost every book in the household, and there was only so much painting you could do, and because he had taken you to his own palace, you couldn't even see his family —

'Angel?' You could practically hear the smile in his tone, prompting you, warning you, to say something. To say what he wanted to hear.

You made your decision. Letting out a shuddering breath, you inched closer into his embrace. 'Stay.'

Cassis moved the hair away from your eyes. 'Yeah? You want me to stay?'

You nodded, tears forming at the thought of another day of just roaming your way too big home, doing absolutely nothing with your time and — no, wait — it was not your home. It was his home. This was just your house. Yes. That was it. 'Please.'

Cassis kissed your forehead. 'Are you sure?'

You reach pale, trembling hands around his shoulders and look up at him with wide, sleepless eyes. 'If you go… no… please…'

You didn't like this, but he really was all you had now. It was him, and it had been him for so long, and it was still going to be him, in the future, as far as you could see. Was it really wrong? Was it wrong to miss him when he left? Was it wrong to feel joy when he returned? Was it wrong to let him pull you close and wrap you in his cashmere sweaters that were way too big on you? Was it wrong to love him when he kissed you breathless?

No. It couldn't be. Cassis was good to you; you could talk to him. You could make it okay. He had never… never hurt you… even those long, long hours spent in the darkness of the room… he hadn't hurt you, he'd done it because — because you broke his heart first. How could you reject him so, when he loved you so much that it destroys him?

'So… you'll stay?' You ask, and your voice is both hopeful and heartbroken.

Well, if he heard the break in your voice, he chose to ignore it. He smiled, and that damned smile of his was pretty enough to make you tear up all over again. 'Of course. I would never leave you.'

That was all you needed, and you let Cassis hold you, kiss you, murmur praise in his low, calming voice into your ears, run his hands over your body and underneath your nightgown, to the place that still made you tremble — except this time, you did little to stop him.

You thought about how, a few months ago, you would've fought back against him — fought back against him fiercely and passionately, fought back like your very survival was on the line, only for Cassis to bring you down, calm you down, drag you back to the bed and remind you of who amongst you two was stronger, smarter, infinitely more capable, of to whom your pretty body and mind forever belonged to.

And as Cassis withdraws his hands — though still keeping them wrapped tightly around you — you thought about how you used to take every possible chance to escape. Windows, doors, basement trapdoors, even butter knives that you'd desperately try to fend Cassis off with. Nothing had ever worked. It only made things worse for you.

And as the pale, silken white curtains turn blue and pink and rose gold with the sunrise, and the entire room seems to glow in the silence, you thought about how beautiful Cassis is. He's divine, with pretty eyes of molten gold, and pale, pearly hair, and a smile so heavenly that it almost — almost — doesn't even suit him with what he did to you.

And as Cassis's sleeping form entangled itself with your much smaller, much softer one, you thought about was how much you used to fear Cassis, and yet — if Cassis were to leave you, then…

Well, you're not very sure about what you'd do, but… it might just break you.

tagging ; @mysticmeena, @writerig, @loekas, @loekas, @ykassu, @dion-s-lawyer, @that-one-pretty-bitch, @yourlocalintrovertt, @orlic1a, @hmerus, @cerisearan, @dxmoness, @salvatvre, @d10nsaint, @meow-meow-potato, @parkykwho, @izumi-astra-123, @ithil-lucien, and @palaceofghosts.

#꒰ ☽︎ ꒱ — stars.#the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #yandere twtptflob #yandere manhwa #cassis pedelian #yandere cassis pedelian #cassis x reader #— on queue.#i hate this (singsong voice)

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year

Text

Angel

Summary; Jason calls the reader stupid, among other mean things. Eddie finds out after he finds her crying at their spot and is pissed off that anyone would dare insult his angel.

Warnings; protective Eddie, Jason being an ass, tiny bit of angst and fluff.

Likes/reblogs, etc is always appreciated 😘 I dont give anyone permission to copy my work

💞

Having to partner up with Jason in maths was enough to make anyone annoyed but as always she tried her best not to let his general asshole self get to her.

That vow had been tested several times in the last hour. All she wanted was for this class to be done and to find Eddie.

She smiles giddily, thrumming with anticipation at seeing her sweet love. At this point, she was lost in her head and only came to when Jason huffed about loud.

"For fuck sake will you concentrate" he hisses to her, she folds her arms and glares at him.

"Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time? Can't you be a nice person for like ten seconds?"

He snorts.

"Maybe I'm pissed because I am stuck with you as a partner today and as usual you are off in a little ditzy dream world where everything is all sunshine, rainbows and unicorns" his words sting but she tries to hide it.

"I don't live in a ditzy dream world. I am well aware of how awful real life can be but why can't I find beauty and goodness too?" She argues.

He snorts.

This only makes her more annoyed.

"Or maybe I am pissed off at the fact you are god damn stupid and I'll have to do all the work" her stomach sinks and as the bell rings Jason storms off.

His words make her feel like shit, she knew she wasn't stupid. Maths just wasn't her strongest subject but she tried and worked hard to get the grades.

The words stick in her mind and she feels the tears fall.

❤

Eddie couldn't wait to see his princess. They were meeting at their spot in the woods and all he wanted was to kiss and hold his sweetheart for a little while.

They have been dating for a while now and he is so in love with her, she was sweet and kind and sometimes she could get lost in a daydream or distracted by things easily, cute animals, and flowers.

She wore pretty flowy dresses and flowers in her hair, fed all the stray cats in the trailer park and sang along dreamily to songs he didn't listen to but loved anyway because they made her happy.

Each of those things made him love her more and more and he was fiercely protective of his angel.

Eddie had never been more certain of anything in his life and that was he knew one day he was going to marry her.

He freezes as he hears quiet sniffles and when he finds yn at their table crying his protective instincts go into overdrive.

Who the fuck would hurt his princess? His fist clenches, he wasn't a violent person at all but how could anyone hurt a sweetheart like yn? She was so gentle and kind to everyone.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she looks up and rushes over to him. He wraps her up in a tight hug and strokes her hair.

"Do you think I'm stupid Eds? That I live in a ditzy, fairytale world?" he gapes at her and gently wipes away her tears.

"Of course, not sweetheart, you're not stupid and you like to daydream a little? Who cares?" Her lip wobbles and he sits on the wooden table, holding her close to him.

"Who said this to you?" she shakes her head and borrows closer to him.

"You'll get mad and I don't want you to get in trouble for an asshole Eddie" he frowns and tilts up her cheek.

"I can't promise I won't get mad baby because someone made you cry but I promise I won't get into trouble" she bites her lip still looking unsure.

"Well in Math I got partnered up with Jason and"... That's all he needs to hear, he listens to her repeat what happened and he quietly seethes.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" she asks him and kisses his cheek.

"Of course, he's an idiot baby don't listen to a word out of that fuckers mouth. Spews a load of shit" she nods and kisses him again, a little smile gracing her features.

He kisses her forehead already planning on tracking Carver down and giving him a piece of his mind.

💞

Eddie had left yn with Chrissy and Robin as they chatted happily about what new movies were in the theatre.

He had just seen Jason and wasted no time in marching over to him and blocking his path, barely concealing his attempt.

"You want something freak?" Jason spits at him and he glares at the asshole.

"Let me make one thing clear Carver, I stopped giving a fuck what you think of me a long time ago but insulting MY girl is off limits you understand?"

Jason scoffs.

"It's not my fault your girlfriend lives in some fucking fantasy land where everything is sunshine and rainbows, she needs to get a fucking grip"

His temper threatens to spill over but he reigns it in.

"Listen to me dickhead. I am not a violent person, never have been but I will kick your ass if you hurt yn again. I'll probably get my ass kicked as well but it will be worth it. Are we clear?"

Jason's smug smile slips away.

"Whatever Munson." Eddie stands taller, glowering at Jason who steps back visibly nervous.

"I don't know why anyone would want to make someone so fucking wonderful cry, she is one of the good things to me in this shitty place, she's beautiful inside and out, smart, funny, kind, and a literal fucking sweetheart. You don't upset her again. Right?"

After a second Jason snorts and then nods pushing past him.

Eddie returns back to yn smiling as she is laughing at something Chrissy has said.

"Miss me, princess?" He teases her and she smiles sweetly as be wraps his arms around her.

"You two are so cute" Chrissy coos and Robin nods.

"Disgustingly cute but still cute. Where did you go off to anyway?" He shrugs and narrows his eyes as Jason approaches.

"Dealing with some shit," he tells Robin as Jason avoids his gaze and tugs Chrissy along.

"Babe, come on we'll be late" Eddie smirks.

Good. He hopes Carver has learned his lesson.

"Wanna help me set up for Hellfire babe? I created a new character. Based on my favourite princess" he kisses her nose and she takes his hand excitedly as they discuss the latest developments for his campaign.

💞

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inhuman-obey-me · 3 months

Note

levi + 🚪 no mc please!

"I feel a sickness for a home I’ve never been." - Leviathan

"YES, I got the last piece of the set!" Leviathan shouts excitedly to himself, happily setting the new piece to his gear before inputting a dance command.

The little avatar on his screen begins to bop around, moving its arms cheerfully to no particular music as if to show off the new jacket it's wearing. The blurry pixels that make up the character's face look like they're smiling, just like the Avatar of Envy is, beaming from his seat as he reaches up to stretch for the first time in hours.

Messages from his guildmates start rolling in, too, filling the chat with, "YOOO CONGRATS" and "omg sooo jealous" and "looks AMAZING, man!!"

Ah, satisfaction.

And then, killing his elation just as quickly -- "alright, I think that's it for me tonight."

"Wait, some of you still need another drop from this dungeon though, right? Let's not stop yet," Levi types frantically. For the first time all night, he notices his eyes stinging from the strain of playing for so many hours straight, but he's desperate not to log off. If anything, his chest is starting to constrict at the thought, full of panic at the idea of ending already.

The others, however, are done. They collectively decide this is a good place to stop for the night, and one by one, he watches his teammates' avatars disappear from the screen, leaving his character alone in the field, still dancing away.

And, just like that, the night's distraction is over. Groaning with frustration, he scrolls idly through his quest list, checking for something, anything to still do. A dungeon, a raid, maybe some limited-time seasonal event? Of course, he's already completed all the most fun quests though, and the only things still available for him to handle alone are mindless, repetitive tasks. Boring.

He closes out the game too, dropping his head into his hands in defeat. He should get some sleep anyway, admittedly. Lucifer will be mad if he oversleeps come morning, after all.

It's just, the moment he turns around, he'll have to see that same damn room again -- his new one, with its jellyfish lamps and porcelain white tub for a bed. He'd been excited about it at first, since he'd gotten to decorate it with all his otaku paraphernalia, and the fish tank walls really did cast a lovely blue glow over everything. His figurines look great in their displays, and his entire manga collection is neatly organized on the shelves, just how he likes it.

It's a good room. It's got all of his favorite things. It's very distinctly his -- no more of the dusty old guest rooms of the Demon Lord's Castle, each one indistinguishable from all the others.

He should like it.

But that doesn't change what the room is: new. This is his new room, in a new house, in this new realm, with a new body, having to make a new home, and it's all because he's not welcome in his old one anymore. The Celestial Realm cast them out, and he'll never see his old room in the Celestial Palace again. He'll never get to stay in that nice, comfortable, familiar place anymore, and the thought makes him deeply envious of his past self who got to enjoy his time there so obliviously, never even realizing that those days would come to an end!

Then again, if he's honest with himself -- wasn't he the same way back then, too?

It's just a sickness for a home that's never been. Truthfully, he didn't feel any more comfortable in his skin as an angel than he does as a demon. Having his brothers with him is what makes a place home more than anything else, but even they don't really understand him.

No one does.

But there's always escaping into his games, his anime, his manga. In those, he can imagine himself as the hero. He doesn't have to think about what a sad, pathetic demon he is now. He doesn't have to think about being a demon at all. He can be whatever he wants to be, wherever he wants to be.

And where he wants to be right now, is not here. Anything would be better than thinking about all this again. Late night be damned, he's not ready to face this yet.

Screw it, he's not going to sleep. He boots up another game.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #omnb #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #om! levi #om! leviathan #leviathan angst #obey me angst #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #drabble #4000 follower celebration #mod chaos in the devildom

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 4 months

Text

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Alcohol, language

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3- The Flour Incident

After collecting a sixpack of beer and a bottle of Jack Daniels from the bar, you went to the dressing room backstage while the guys finished their final song.

You put the alcohol on the table in the middle of the room before sitting down on one of the chairs in front of the large mirror and took in the now dry blood on your chin from the split lip.

Damn, that big man could pack a punch.

Grabbing a few tissues from the bench, you leant forward towards the mirror and began wiping away the blood before Vince could see. Your brother would lose his shit if he saw it. He nearly did earlier and now he would probably still be pumped up from the show and you didn’t want him to do anything stupid.

Suddenly, the door to the dressing room opened and loud cheering and clapping reached your ears before fading out as the door closed again and Nikki walked inside holding his bass.

"You good?" He asked, pausing by the door when he saw you wiping away the blood.

"Why do you care?" You asked back because it wasn't like Nikki had tried to hide the fact that he didn't like you very much.

"I don't."

Yeah, you should have seen that coming.

You turned back to the mirror and continued wiping away the blood. Nikki didn't say anything further and made his way across the room dumping his bass on the couch before appearing behind you and meeting your gaze through the mirror.

"Hold this against it. It'll reduce the swelling." He explained, handing you one of the cold beer bottles. "Thanks for the drinks."

You simply nodded taking the bottle before Nikki walked across the room and collapsed on the couch cracking open the Jack Daniels and taking a large drink.

Nikki Sixx confused you.

He was very standoffish and acted as if he didn't like you, but then would do and say something half nice like that. Did he hate you or not? You had no idea.

A few minutes later Mick, Tommy and Vince came into the dressing room. The latter two laughing and chatting excitedly while Mick made a beeline for the alcohol on the table having noticed it instantly.

"You guys rocked it out there!" You called out over your shoulders.

"It was totally insane!" Tommy agreed with a huge grin, but that grin quickly faded when he saw you holding the bottle against your lip. "Shit. Are you okay?"

"I've had worse."

It was true.

Tommy and Vince both knew it was true. They had seen it and witnessed the aftermath. But your words provided no reassurance because Vince looked ready to march outside and find the man that punched you.

Vince had always been the protective big brother. He had started too many fights to count with people because of something they had said or done to you. He even put his own friend in hospital for being mean to you at school.

“Vin, it’s fine."

"It's not fine. Nothing about what happened earlier was fine." Vince responded, his anger starting to come back out.

Tommy walked over to you and pinched your chin with his thumb and index finger tilting your head up so he could inspect the damage himself.

He leant down getting closer until his face was inches away from yours. His beautiful hazel eyes focused looking at the cut and you could feel the tips of your ears turning pink at the attention and hoped like hell that your hair was covering it.

"It's probably gonna sting like a bitch for a while, but she's okay, man." Tommy reassured looking back over at Vince noticing his anger too.

Tommy was no stranger to Vince’s protectiveness when it came to you. He had been at school during all the fights. He had even helped Vince a couple times too.

He lowered his hand from your face, and you fought the urge to lean forward and follow it, missing the warm gentle touch.

Jesus, y/n, get a grip of yourself.

Vince looked back over at you, and you gave him a small encouraging smile which was enough to make him relax, and you mentally sighed with relief.

This was their first show, he should be happy and not worrying about his sister.

"The crowd fucking loved you guys. I bet there will be even more people tomorrow night." You continued to say going back to the topic from earlier.

Vinces eyes lit up at your words, "you think so?"

"I know so!"

And you were right.

By the end of the show, they had managed to convert the entire crowd into fans. The fans then told their friends and word soon spread about this new band and even more people came to see Mötley Crüe the next night.

With each new gig, the stage setup looked better and better. Mick had bought a dozen lights he stole from his old band and put them up. There was a dirty white bedsheet that was stripped from Tommys bed and spraypainted with 'MÖTLEY CRÜE' on it in big black letters. Inspired by Queen, Tommy and Vince built a three-tiered drum riser consisting of a frame of two-by-fours painted white with stretched black cloth covering it and mounted with 15 flashing lights and skulls and drumsticks.

The guys were having the time of their lives performing at clubs along the Sunset Strip. The crowds only grew with each show and with the crowds came bigger parties at the Mötley House. And with bigger parties came girls. So many girls.

You had to ban Vince from bringing girls into your shared bedroom due to the number of times you’ve walked in on him having sex. Hell, you’ve walked in on most of the guys having sex before because apparently the main bathroom was where everyone liked to do it and thought locks were overrated.

Safe to say, privacy in the Mötley House was rare.

You crashed on the couch one night because Vince’s latest fling had decided to stay the night in his bed. And there was no way you were staying in the bedroom with them together.

Tommy had woken up in the middle of the night and found you lying on the couch with your pillow and blanket reading a book.

“Why are you out here?”

Tommy’s voice came out of nowhere and startled you so badly, you dropped the book that you had been so engrossed with. The novel hit the carpet with a thud causing you to wince because it was probably 3 o’clock in the morning and the others were all asleep.

“Sorry.” Tommy chuckled quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You lifted your head to find the drummer leaning against the wall watching you curiously. Your eyes raked over his bare chest briefly before forcing yourself to maintain eye contact. The guys were often shirtless in the apartment, at least this time Tommy was wearing a pair of shorts instead of just his underwear.

“You didn’t scare me.” You lied, sitting up on the couch with a stretch. “Vince let his girl sleep over. This couch seemed like a better option than sharing the room with them.”

Tommy nodded in understanding, “our walls are thin. You made a good decision not to sleep in there, I can tell you that much.”

You screwed your face up in disgust causing Tommy to snort in amusement.

“Why are you up?” You asked swiftly changing the topic.

“Got thirsty.”

He turned and walked into the kitchen to grab some water while you picked up your dropped novel and tried to find what page number you had gotten up to. You skimmed over the pages until you found the right part and finished the chapter before bookmarking it.

Tommy was still in the kitchen holding a glass of water while going through cupboard after cupboard searching for something.

“We don’t have much food.” You pointed out joining him in the kitchen. “What do you want?”

“Something edible.” He answered holding up a half-eaten bag of potato crisps with a questioning expression.

“I wouldn’t eat that.”

Tommy frowned in confusion before you snatched the bag from his grasp and poured its contents onto the countertop. The remaining crisps fell out the packet along with three large cockroaches that Tommy quickly squished with the bottom of his glass.

“Right. Don’t leave food open. I remember now.” He sighed, staring at the dead bugs.

You turned away and began going through the cupboard mentally taking note of the limited food that had been sealed in bug proof containers.

“I can make cookies?” You suggested, glancing back at Tommy.

“What? Dude, it’s like three in the fucking morning.”

“So?”

Tommy held your gaze for a moment before shrugging his shoulders.

“Fuck it, let’s bake.”

“My stepmother used to have this three-ingredient sugar cookie recipe. We have sugar and flour. Do we have butter?”

Tommy pulled the fridge door open and winced as the beer bottles inside clattered against each other loudly, the noise echoing through the quiet apartment. There was only a few old takeout boxes and various sauce bottles inside which honestly, was more than what was usually in the fridge.

Mötley weren’t making a lot of money. And the money the guys did get went straight to alcohol, so you’d end up buying food out of your paycheck each fortnight from the diner, but it never lasted.

“Here it is.” Tommy said, pulling a tub of butter out from behind one of the takeout boxes.

“Are you guys drinking in here?” Nikki’s voice suddenly called out.

You glanced over your shoulder to find the bassist appearing from the corridor after having heard the beer bottles in the fridge like they were his own personal alarm clock.

“Nope. We’re baking.” Tommy answered, holding up the butter happily. “Y/N can cook apparently.”

Nikki raised his eyebrow, “I doubt that.”

You flipped him off while rinsing a large bowl under the sink because you had no idea how long it had been since the bowl was used and you were almost certain you had seen a mouse in that cupboard the other day.

Better safe than sorry.

You measured out the correct amounts of sugar and butter, adding the ingredients to the bowl while Tommy and Nikki both watched.

“We need two cups of flour.” You instructed, tossing Tommy a measuring cup. “Sixx, make yourself useful and start beating the sugar and butter together.”

You half expected Nikki to protest, but to your own surprise he walked over and grabbed the bowl without question and started to mix the ingredients together. While the guys were busy you began to get a baking tray ready, but once Tommy added the flour to the bowl, all hell broke loose.

“Dude, you’re getting flour everywhere!” Tommy stepped back while Nikki spilt flour from the bowl.

The kitchen counter was now white along with Tommy’s bare chest making it look like he had just done a line of coke and spilt it on himself.

“She told me to mix it.” Nikki said defensively.

“I didn’t say spill it everywhere though.” You commented, appearing beside him as you stared down at the half-mixed bowl and mess of flour. “You guys are worse than Vince in the kitchen.”

Nikki suddenly let go of the bowl and placed his hand on the counter before swiping the spilt flour towards you. The entire front of your tank top was covered instantly as you jumped back crashing into Tommy. The two of you toppled to the floor of the kitchen in fits of laughter.

“Are you good?” Tommy asked trying to get his laughter under control but when he saw how much flour Nikki had flung at you, he burst out laughing all over again.

“You guys are children.” You chuckled unable to stop yourself from laughing as you looked up at Nikki to find him fighting back his own laughter. “And you are a dead man.”

Nikki snorted, “what are you going to do about it?”

You untangled yourself from Tommy and jumped to your feet grabbing the measuring cup off the bench before scooping it into the bag of flour. You turned back to Nikki and held it up with a small smirk.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” He warned, holding his hand up towards you while taking a hesitant step back.

“What’s the matter? You scared, Sixx?”

Tommy was laughing from the floor of the kitchen behind you as you took a step towards the bassist who instantly took two steps back eyeing you cautiously.

“Princess. Don’t do it.”

“What are you going to do about it?” You mocked, mimicking his words before you threw the contents of the cup of flour at him.

“Holy shit!” Tommy exclaimed not expecting you to actually do it.

A cloud of flour was now floating in the air between you and Nikki as you lowered the empty cup back onto the countertop. The flour in the air settled revealing a rather pissed off looking bassist standing there with his arms folded across his chest and hair now as white as a ghost.

“That’s not a good colour on you, Sixx.” You teased staring at all the fluffy flour that stood out in his mop of thick black hair.

“You are so going to regret this.”

Yeah, you definitely just started a war that you couldn’t win.

“Worth it.” You grinned before rushing over to Tommy who just got to his feet, and you hid behind him.

Nikki glared at you, “that’s cheating. You can’t use him as a human shield.”

“Like hell I can’t.” You responded, grabbing Tommy’s shoulders to keep him position between you and Nikki.

Suddenly Tommy spun around and grabbed you by the waist causing you to let out a surprised squeal as he practically held you against his chest.

“Nikki, quick. Get her!”

“You traitor!” You gasped dramatically causing Tommy to laugh while you tried to wriggle free from his hold, but his arms only tightened around your waist in response. There was no getting out of his grip.

Nikki rushed across the kitchen and leant over shaking his head causing the flour to fall from his hair onto you and Tommy.

“I hate you both so much right now.”

“Nah, you love us. I can tell.” Tommy responded and you could practically hear the smile behind his voice.

Eventually, Nikki stopped and stepped back as Tommy released his hold on you and you quickly jumped away from them holding your hands out defensively.

“Truce?” You asked, glancing between them.

Nikki and Tommy exchanged a quick look before nodding in agreement.

Tommy’s hair was now stained white from the flour matching Nikki’s, and you knew your own y/h/c hair was covered in fluffy white flour too.

The three of you would look so ridiculous right now.

“What’s the next step? I’m starving.” Tommy said turning his attention back to the bowl of cookie mixture.

You eyed Nikki cautiously not entirely trusting him not to continue the flour war and he must have noticed because he let out a small chuckle and raised his hands in surrender.

“You’re safe now, princess. I promise.”

You squinted your eyes at him sceptically before nodding. “Roll the mixture into small balls and then roll them in sugar. And then flatten them with a glass or something.”

“Whoa. Whoa. That was way too many instructions.” Tommy responded, looking over at you. “Step one?”

You smiled before walking over and showing them what to do and before you knew it, the three of you were rolling the cookies in sugar and placing them on the baking tray.

“Flattening them with a glass was the next step?” Nikki asked, reaching for the glass that was already on the countertop.

“Not that glass!” You practically shouted causing the bassist to flinch at your sudden raised voice.

Tommy looked over in confusion before he saw what glass Nikki had grabbed and he started to laugh.

“I killed like three roaches with that glass, dude.”

Nikki screwed his face up in disgust before dropping the glass while you retrieved a clean one and handed it to him.

15 minutes later, the three of you were sitting on the couch across the room. Tommy and Nikki were still shirtless and covered in flour and although you had switched out of your own flour covered tank top for a clean one, your hair was still covered.

You had gone back to reading on the couch with your legs draped over both Tommy and Nikkis laps.

“What the fuck happened in here?”

You looked up to find a tired looking Vince standing in the doorway staring at the three of you on the couch covered in flour.

“We made cookies.” Tommy simply answered.

“Are you sure about that?” Vince asked taking in the mess of flour all over the kitchen. “Did a flour bomb go off or something?”

“Or something.” Nikki snorted.

“I taught them how to make sugar cookies.” You explained.

Vince walked over to the oven and looked inside before snickering. “I don’t think you did.”

“What?” You asked jumping to your feet and rushing into the kitchen.

“It’s more like one giant cookie.” Your brother responded pointing to the oven door in clear amusement.

You grabbed an oven mitt as Nikki and Tommy entered the kitchen watching you pull the baking tray out to find that Vince was correct. All the cookies had spread out while in the oven and had merged together creating one big cookie.

“I knew she couldn’t cook.” Nikki chuckled.

You elbowed the bassist in the stomach playfully causing him to laugh even more as Tommy broke a corner of the giant cookie off and shoved it in his mouth.

“It just came out the oven.” You warned the exact same moment Tommy spat the hot piece of cookie out his mouth back onto the tray. “Eww. That’s gross.”

“I’d still eat it.” Nikki answered unphased.

“Same. We got fuck all else to eat in this house.” Vince agreed glancing between the three of you. “Seriously though, how did you get flour everywhere?”

You looked between Nikki and Tommy, and the three of you burst out laughing.

Mötley Crüe continued to pull crowds larger than any club along the Sunset Strip could accommodate. Lines of fans would stretch hundreds of metres down the street filled with people waiting and hoping to get inside to see the guys performing live.

Mötley Crüe were selling out show after show, but no label would sign them.

Until Electra Records entered the story and Doc, the bands new manager.

Then everything changed for the better... and also for the worst.

And with that, Motley Crue were moving from the Whiskey to the stadiums.

Their first BIG show was during the US Festival where Ozzy Osbourne, Judas Priest, Scorpions and even Van Halen were performing in front of 300,000 people, and so were Mötley Crüe.

You feared that most the crowd wouldn't know who they were and would hate them because they were impatiently waiting for Ozzy or Van Halen. But you didn't dare speak your thoughts aloud. The guys were shitting themselves enough as it was.

"Sit still. I'm gonna smudge your makeup." You warned, sitting on the bench in front of Tommy as he sat in his seat bouncing his knee nervously.

"Sorry. I can't help it." He admitted anxiously.

"You guys will do great. I know you will. Don't be nervous." You reassured, although you knew your words weren't going to help.

This was huge. Hell, you were nervous for them, and you weren't even going to be on the stage.

Nikki was nervously pacing Tommy's dressing room. Vince and Mick were in their own rooms getting ready or, well, you were pretty sure you knew what Vince was doing in his dressing room. He kicked you out a few minutes ago when Tom's girlfriend walked in, but you were trying very hard not to think about that.

The guys all decided to up the glam aspect of their outfits for the show. They were wearing leather studded clothes, tight red pants for Tommy and tight black pants for Nikki along with a spiky shoulder pad on his right shoulder that was a bold fashion move, but you liked it.

"You should have warpaint too." Nikki called out from across the room.

You finished touching up Tommy's eyeliner before pulling away and glancing over at Nikki who was still anxiously pacing the far end of the room.

"That'd be so fucking cool. Y/N, can you do it?" Tommy asked, looking from Nikki back to you.

You nodded and grabbed the makeup utensil again as your eyes scanned his beautiful face before you glanced over his shoulder at Nikki to see his warpaint.

"Sixx, look at me for a minute."

Nikki stopped pacing and tilted his head in your direction, and you were waiting for some witty sarcastic comment, but he said nothing, and you knew he must be super nervous if he wasn't saying anything.

You took in his two signature strips before nodding and turning your attention back to Tommy. He couldn't have the same thing as Nikki. That was Nikki's look. Tommy needed his own and also, the fans needed something to tell the two of them apart because if you hadn't known Tommy for a few years, you'd probably get them confused from a distance with their matching long scruffy black hair.

"I got an idea." You announced, jumping off the bench you had been sitting on in front of Tommy. You stepping up until you were practically leaning over him before cupping the side of his face and turning his head towards you.

Tommy remained uncharacteristically quiet, his body a little stiff at the close proximity, but he didn't tell you to stop, so you began to paint similar but different warpaint stripes on his face.

Nikki got curious and was now leaning over your shoulder watching as you painted two black stripes on Tommy's right cheek bone carefully. Your hand trembled a little and you weren’t sure if it was due to nerves about the show or him watching you, but you managed to paint the stripes perfectly.

Lowering your hand from Tommys face you took a step back to take in your work before glancing over at Nikki with raised eyebrows and he nodded in approval before Tommy turned to face the mirror.

"That looks so fucking rad, dude!" He exclaimed happily and your shoulders relaxed hearing that.

"That's your new look, man." Nikki grinned patting Tommys shoulder before Doc knocked on the door announcing that it was time.

You followed Nikki and Tommy out the dressing room and down the corridor to backstage where Mick was currently peeking through the side curtains at the large crowd.

"We're gonna fucking die." Mick announced walking over to the three of you with a nervous expression that matched all of yours.

It was odd seeing someone like Mick actually seem nervous. He was always the calm, mostly level-headed member of the band, but even aliens like him could feel anxious.

"Boys, on behalf of Electra Records, I just wanna wish you good luck tonight." Tom Zutaut called out, walking down the corridor towards you all before he paused. "Where's Vince?"

Vince was definitely not in the middle of fucking Toms girlfriend... definitely not.

"Just saw him in the dressing room getting ready." Doc supplied which wasn't a total lie.

"This is your first big show, so... please don't fuck this up." Tom said giving the guys a reassuring smile that did absolutely no reassuring in the slightest.

"Was that meant to be a peptalk?" You asked, resting your hands on your hips. "Because it sucked."

"Well, you do better. I'm gonna go find Vince."

You watched Tom walk off and hoped like hell your brother was either finished with the girlfriend or at the very least had enough brains to lock his dressing room door because if not, he was screwed.

"Fuck everything he just said." You turned to Nikki, Tommy and Mick who all looked a thousand times more nervous than before. "You're Mötley fuckin' Crüe. You guys just do what you do."

Tommy nodded while twirling one of his drumsticks with his fingers before proceeding to drop said drumstick in the middle of the corridor.

"Fuck!" He swore under his breath, hastily picking it up.

"Jesus Christ." Nikki sighed.

There was less than 10 minutes before the show, hopefully Tommy got his nerves under control by then because you didn’t want a repeat of their first show with his cymbal being knocked over. He was embarrassed enough in front of that small crowd let alone an entire stadium.

"Boys, I just got off the phone with my bosses at Electra and they saw the other bands here and have an idea. I don't know if it's possible at short noticed but..." Tom suddenly said, jogging back down the corridor towards them before his eyes glanced over at you. "How well do you know their songs Y/N?"

You blinked in confusion, "I'm sorry?"

"Electra heard that the others had backup singers. Female backup singers. The crowds love it. It mixed things up a bit and gave the guys something to, you know, look at."

Your jaw dropped at his words and if you weren't in such shock, you would have snapped at him for that sexist comment.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Nikki questioned, a hint of protectiveness in his tone.

Tom quickly raised his hands in surrender. "I-I meant no harm. I'm just saying, the female fans love looking at you guys and you should bring something in that would appeal to the male fans too."

"Hold on." You said, shaking your head. "So, you want me to go on stage with Mötley Crüe as a backup singer so the male fans can stare at me?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"No." Tommy quickly said, shaking his head.

"Absolutely not." Nikki responded, folding his arms across his chest.

"As your manager, I think it's a good idea." Doc suddenly said, appearing behind Tom. "I don't agree with his choice of wording. But it would be good for Mötley Crüe to have a female backup singer. And Y/N knows all the songs."

"What's going on?" Vince's voice called out.

You glanced over your shoulder to find him walking towards you, still zipping up his pants and if you weren’t in the middle of a freakout about this new idea, you would have commented on it.

"They want Y/N to be a backup singer." Mick supplied.

"No." Vince answered immediately. "That is not happening."

"I heard she used to be your backup singer for Rock Candy." Tom replied like that was some kind of solid argument.

"I don't give a fuck. I do not want my little sister out on stage. I don't want her a part of that life."

"She's kind of already part of that life." Doc pointed out causing Vince to glare at him. "I'm just stating a fact. She's been to every show. She knows every word. I see her singing along with you guys from backstage. She can do it."

"Are you crazy? I-I can't sing in front of all those people." You stuttered, suddenly feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of your lungs.

There was no way you were going on that stage. Nope. No way.

"Electra have a deal. It's what they want." Tom piped up.

"Fuck your deal." Vince snapped.

Could Electra make those kinds of calls? What would happen if you didn't do it? Would they punish the band because of it? You couldn't be the cause of that. Mötley Crüe only just got the record deal, you couldn't ruin that.

"But Electra-"

"I-I'll do it." You announced cutting Tom off before taking in a deep shaky breath. “I can do it.”

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile.

A/N-

For the couple of people reading this, thank you!

I hope you enjoyed this longer chapter! I won't be able to post the next one until later next week as I'm going back home for Christmas.

Merry Christmas to those that celebrate, and until next time, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx

#motley crue #nikki sixx #tommy lee #nikki sixx x you #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee fanfic #motley crue fanfiction #motley crue x reader #vince neil #mick mars #pov #imagine

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dominimoonbeam · 5 months

Text

Wake Up Call

part one of two.

Darlin/Milo waking up after a drunken one night stand.

tags: one night stand, communication issues, opposites

Wake Up Call

Darlin woke up slowly, hung over, sore, and wrung out in the best fucking way.

They weren’t sure what they’d done last night, but right then, they were feeling pretty damn good about it. They rolled onto their side, wincing, achy in all the right ways. Had they gotten in a fight? Sometimes they felt good like this after a fight. But no, that wasn’t it. This wasn’t that sort of achy. They smiled against the mattress. This was a hard fuck good. Through the gathering headache behind their lids, they remembered snatches of their night, of kissing and teeth and strong hands pushing them, pinning them, and working them ruthlessly.

They pushed themself toward waking, scrunching their face when they couldn’t quite convince their eyes to open and take on the sting of daylight in the room. It wasn’t their room, they knew that much just by the sheets. Their brain was still catching up, too hazy to even realize how weird it was to wake up this comfortable. They usually woke up like a shot, out of bed before they could ever see straight. But not this morning. It was so hard to convince themselves to give up that deep, heavy sleep, and longer to even register the body next to theirs.

Warm and familiar, one arm across their back, one hand securely on their naked hip.

Darlin forced their eyes open and squinted at the room. It wasn’t a hotel room. They knew it with every lungful. But they didn’t know this room. Why did it feel so familiar if they’d never been there before last night? Why did they feel so… safe?

Darlin groaned and rolled onto their back, toward their bedmate. He lifted his arm, palm gliding over their skin to resettle against their side, pulling them closer and getting comfortable.

They both woke the rest of the way, practically snuggled together on his pillow, faces so close that there was nowhere to look but at the other.

Darlin blinked at Milo and Milo blinked at Darlin.

And then they both flew out of the bed in opposite directions. Darlin tangled in the sheets and fell on the floor. Milo hit the wall and swore loudly, rubbing his forehead.

Milo had woken up great, for one perfect stretch, hazy and sated, before the headache and mind-blowing shock drove him out of his own bed and into the fucking wall.

“Fuck!” He rubbed his forehead and bent over, turning back to squint at the other naked shifter in his room.

It wasn’t like he’d never seen Darlin naked before. It wasn’t like he’d never slept in the same bed as them before. But he’d never slept naked in the same bed when he was so, so, absolutely sure he’d fucked them last night.

He couldn’t even entertain the possibility that they hadn’t—that they’d just crawled into bed together or passed out drunk after a make out session. Not that he remembered it either. He just knew it. He could smell himself on them and in them in a way that was acutely too fucking intimate for their friendship.

“Fuck!” he exhaled again, this time not at all because of his headache.

“Shit,” Darlin hissed. “Shitshitshit.”

“We—” he started.

Darlin shook their head and waved a finger at him. “Don’t fucking say it! Don’t!” They didn’t look at him, face tight from what had to be the echo of his own splitting headache. They untangled themself from the sheet and started looking around the floor. “It didn’t happen.”

Milo watched them. “Darlin…”

Darlin whined, dropping their head back and rolling it to the side to look at him. “What? Why? Is this,” they waved a hand around at the bed between them. “Really something you want to talk about?”

“I don’t remember… Do you?”

“No!” They found their jeans and pulled them on. He watched them, unable to stop himself from noticing the bruises on their thighs and hips, and the red welt on their ass.

Any shock or shame on his part melted into a sick, panicky horror. “Darlin… Did I… Are you okay?”

Darlin didn’t stop their hunt for clothes, pushing hair angrily out of their face. “What? Did you what?”

Milo walked around the foot of the bed to intercept them. Eyes skimming their torso and arms. Darlin always had some bruises and scrapes, and then there were the scars… But he knew the bruises that were his. He knew where he’d put his hands and he had the vague memory of pinning them and bearing down. “I…I think I hurt you,” he forced out the words, hands fisting and opening at his sides to keep from reaching out to touch. “Darlin. We need to go to a healer… I should call David.”

Darlin jolted at that, upright and staring at him like he’d threatened them. “What? What the fuck for?”

Milo held his hands out, trying to calm them but not touching. They didn’t seem scared that he would though. “Darlin… You’re…” He swallowed hard, wincing when he noticed the bites on their shoulder and the side of their neck. They were deep, red and welted at the center and bruised all around. “I’m so fucking sorry…”

“For what?” Darlin tried to sound annoyed but he heard the wobble in their voice.

Milo scrubbed a hand over his face but said it clearly, calmly, because the last thing he wanted to do now was scare them on top of everything else. “Look at yourself. I hurt you.” He needed to get them to a healer and he needed to tell David… Tell David what? That they’d gotten drunk and fucked and he’d… He’d hurt Darlin. Oh god. Now he needed to throw up…

Darlin turned toward the mirror in the room, blinked at themself and then…blushed.

That was not what he’d expected…

“You didn’t hurt me,” Darlin said, almost mumbling.

He blinked at them as they pulled on a shirt. It was his shirt, but he wasn’t going to point that out right now. Some deep part of him shivered with delight at seeing them in it, just another layer of his scent on them. “Do you remember what we did? Because I don’t,” he ground out.

Darlin shook their head, not quite looking at him. “It wasn’t like that, Milo. You wouldn’t… It wasn’t.”

“Darlin…” He knew he liked to be pushy, he liked to be in charge in the bedroom, but this was… this looked bad. He couldn’t imagine intentionally hurting Darlin but those marks were from his hands, his teeth.

“I like it rough, okay?” they snapped, looking at him, blushing deeper and looking away. “I probably goaded you into it, okay? Just… fuck, don’t tell anyone, okay?” They were out of his bedroom.

Milo blinked after them, his brain racing to catch up. That blush. He shivered and swore, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and pulling them on, practically tripping in the effort to pull them on and chase Darlin down his hall. “Wait a damn minute!”

Darlin was heading for their boots by the door. They stopped short and seemed to cringe with their whole body. “What?”

Milo stopped. They didn’t snap at him this time. They’d sounded…shaky? “Darlin… Can we just, take a minute? I’ve got a splitting hangover and I’m guessin’ you do too. I can make us some coffee and we can…talk about this.”

Darlin shook their head but it was almost a twitch, hair in their face and body tilted away from him. They shoved their feet into their boots. “I gotta go. Just… You don’t tell anyone about…me. And I promise I won’t let anyone find out you slept with me, okay?”

“What?” Milo snapped, confused. Why did they say it like that?

Darlin grabbed the doorknob.

Milo closed the distance fast enough to slam the door shut before they’d had it open more than a couple inches, his palm still to it. “What do you mean? We ain’t cheating on anyone. Why are you saying it like we did somethin’ wrong?”

Darlin bared teeth at him. “Do you really want the whole damn pack to know that you got drunk and fucked me, Greer?”

Milo should have said he didn’t care, but he hesitated.

He wasn’t sure anyone in the pack would even believe they had hooked up. They were friends, sure, but they’d never even been particularly close. They were opposites in almost every damn way. His thoughts ran.

He had no idea then what that second would cost him, but he knew instantly it was a mistake.

Darlin shouldered him off the door and flung it open, out in the hall and storming away.

Fuck.

The door swung shut, closing hard, and he closed his eyes. FUCK!

Darlin hated themself for the way their eyes stung and their heart hurt. They were so weak.

They went straight for the elevator and hit the button. They clawed at the back of their head while they waited. They didn’t know where the stairs were in the building or they would have taken them. They checked their jeans pocket quick for their keys, realizing they didn’t have their jacket. Had they left it at Milo’s or someplace else last night?

Damn it. They were such a fuck up!

Maybe they’d get out of town for a while… Just a couple weeks… Until it blew over. They could pretend it never happened. No one had to know.

The elevator doors opened and they almost walked right into Asher.

“Woah! Hey bu—” his words choked off and his whole expression rippled from that light-hearted grin to shock and confusion and then… Darlin wasn’t sure what that was.

They’d pushed past him while he stepped off the elevator but he pivoted around, eyes narrowing.

Darlin jabbed the ‘door close’ button but his hand shot out, catching the metal and holding it open, leaning back in.

Darlin tensed.

Asher inhaled deeply.

Oh, fuck.

Asher shivered, a rumble in his chest, eyes shutting for a long second before opening up again, darker and staring right at them like he had a thousand questions.

Darlin wanted to scream at how unfair this morning was.

The elevator tried to close again but his hand hadn’t moved, he didn’t even seem to notice, attention fixed on Darlin. He opened his mouth to say something.

Darlin winced, rubbing the bridge of their nose. This was going to be humiliating. Everyone was going to find out that upstanding Milo had stooped to sleeping with the pack fuckup, every jab only underlining what a piece of shit Darlin was, and then he’d probably tell them the whole crazy story about what a complete freak Darlin was. “Don’t,” they practically choked on the word, forcing their gaze up to Asher’s. “Just… Whatever you want, okay? Just don’t tell anyone.”

Asher’s whole heart twisted. There were tears in their eyes.

He stepped back, letting the elevator finally shut between them.

He had smelled Milo on them… not just on them. It was surprisingly hot, mind-blowing and world-shaking, and made him want to press closer and get more of their mixed scent on him. But that all died when they’re voice cracked like that and they begged him not to tell anyone.

What the hell had happened?

He didn’t knock on Milo’s door, not surprised to find it unlocked if Darlin had just stormed out.

Milo looked up from where he’d buried his face in his arms on the kitchen counter, looking like he was having the world’s worst hangover. He wouldn’t be surprised to see Asher. He would have sensed him in the hall.

Asher closed the door behind him. “So… I see you went to that party last night.”

Milo rolled his eyes and dropped his face back into his arms.

“I’m pretty damn upset about missing it now.”

Milo groaned.

Asher leaned back against the door, resisting a strong urge to close the distance between them. Milo and Darlin… Asher had never really imagined the two of them together before. He’d imagined himself with both but not the two… What did that even look like? He’d fooled around with Milo a few times over the years. They’d flirted with more but never… Still, he got the feeling that Milo liked being in charge. Wouldn’t that clash with Darlin?

“Stop thinking about it…” Milo growled into the counter.

Asher pushed off the door and passed him into the kitchen, setting up the coffee machine. “How did this even happen?” And why the hell was Darlin so upset?

“I don’t know.”

Asher started the machine.

“I don’t remember.”

Asher turned to look at his friend. “You don’t remember the part where things got started or…”

“All of it.”

“Shit.” Asher stared. All of it. He managed not to laugh at how cruel that was. If he’d slept with Darlin and forgotten it, he’d…well, he’d probably be as upset as Milo looked. “And they…?”

Milo pushed off the counter, looking miserable. “They say they don’t remember either.”

“But you think they’re lying?”

“No,” he answered quickly and then sighed. “I don’t know.”

Asher thought about how upset Darlin had looked. If it had been anyone else, anyone but Milo, he might have worried he’d been an asshole and kicked them out. Knowing Milo, he would probably have offered to make them breakfast. “So… You two woke up together and they bolted?”

Milo nodded. “Basically, yeah.”

“Basically?”

“I’m not going to tell you everything,” he groused.

Asher snorted. “Because you don’t remember…”

Milo glared.

Asher held his hands up. “Sorry. Sorry. Too soon.”

Milo shook his head, ruffling his own hair. “Forget it. And… don’t tell anyone.”

Asher blinked. Surprised. This wasn’t the first one-night stand or drunken hook-up in the pack. It wasn’t even Milo’s first. Asher had been one of the first to talk to him that time too, and he hadn’t cared then if anyone knew. He remembered the desperate sort of panic in Darlin’s eyes when they begged him not to tell. He nodded slowly. “Yeah, of course.”

Milo groaned and pushed off the counter. “I think I’m going to be sick. I have to shower.”

Asher watched him go, worried about him, and sure he had to be missing something. It sounded like Milo was ashamed of hooking up with Darlin… They might not really be into each other sober. That was fair. They were stark opposites. But he just couldn’t imagine Milo being cruel about it.

The bathroom door shut and the shower turned on.

He thought about that look on Darlin’s face.

Asher pulled his phone out and called David.

He picked up on the second ring. “What?”

“Hey there big guy,” Asher sing-songed.

“Ash…” David ground out his name, but Asher could tell he was trying not to smile. “Did you break something or do you need something? Jesus, don’t tell me you set something on fire again…”

Asher grinned. He loved David. He understood David and David understood him. They were best friends. Had been for ages. “You remember that time when Darlin crashed your truck…”

“What? That was eight years ago… We were practically kids.”

“Uh-huh… And then they were so freaked out that you’d be mad.” He took a coffee cup out of Milo’s cupboard. They all matched and were neatly stacked.

“…What did Darlin do?”

“Nothing bad. I was just thinking…” Asher said, taking out another cup. “And you remember that time when they fucked that jerk vampire who then wouldn’t take no and get lost, and they didn’t want it to be a problem for the pack so they—”

“Where are they?”

“Huh? Oh, I saw them heading to their place, why?” Asher asked innocently.

“We are going to talk about your communication skills,” David growled, but Asher could hear the jangle of his keys.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, boss.”

“Uh-huh… Anything else you can tell me?”

The shower stopped. Asher poured the coffee. “We’re all still getting together at your place for that barbeque, right?”

“Yeah. You’re bringing ice.”

“I haven’t forgotten!” Asher laid it on thick, because he absolutely had. He could practically hear David rolling his eyes before he hung up. He put his phone back into his pocket just as Milo came back to the kitchen, hair still wet and clean clothes sticking to damp skin. God, that was a fucking sight.

Asher beamed and held out a cup of coffee. “Here!”

Milo winced but took the cup. “Who were you talking to?”

“David. He reminded me to bring ice to the party tonight.”

Milo’s eyes widened. “Oh shit. I forgot about the barbeque. I’m supposed to bring a dessert…”

Asher sipped his coffee.

Milo whined, rubbing his temple. “Maybe I can skip it. I can get someone else to pick up a cake or something…”

Asher nodded. “Oh yeah, no, I get it. Darlin will be there, and you probably want to avoid them for a while…”

“What? Why would I want to avoid them?”

Asher took another drink of his coffee and shrugged. “You seem pretty upset about last night.”

Milo frowned hard. “No. I… I mean, I’m upset that I don’t remember and that they’re…” He trailed and curled his lip a little, shaking his head instead of finishing whatever he’d been about to say. “It’s not like I’m upset with them or trying to avoid them.”

Asher nodded, hoping that was true. This could be pretty bad otherwise. Darlin wasn’t going to handle it well if Milo was ashamed or avoiding them after this. He wasn’t sure Darlin wasn’t already thinking exactly that… “Okay. Well, since you don’t seem up to running errands with me today, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you decide you can’t make it to the get together tonight.”

Milo nodded, scrubbing a hand through his wet hair.

He walked Asher to the door and closed it.

His mind was elsewhere. His mind was on every second of that morning on repeat right up until the moment Darlin was out of his apartment.

How had this started?

The group last night… They went out after a job, the whole pack on vacation for the next month. They’d gotten drunk and he remembered walking some people home. Darlin was with him and going to go their own way when he’d reached his building.

He must have invited them up. Had they already started flirting or had it been innocent then?

Who made the first move?

He hated that he couldn’t remember what they’d done. He knew they’d had sex, but he didn’t have the details. He’d had drunken one-night stands before, some he definitely wouldn’t have done if he’d been sober, but never any he actually forgot.

But waking up this morning… His head had hurt, yes, but other than that he’d felt great. Like he’d had the best run of his life and was perfectly wrecked. A part of him had known who he was in bed with even before he opened his eyes and his mind caught up. His core, maybe? He hand woke up to their body in bed with him, their scent all over his bed, his hand on their skin pulling them closer. It had all felt right.

And then he’d fucked it up. He shouldn’t have let them leave like that…

He went back down the hall to the dimness of his bedroom and dropped onto the unmade bed. Maybe he’d go back to sleep? Skip the barbeque. Let it all blow over.

He was half-way out when he rolled to the side into his pillow and groaned. He remembered their mouth on his skin, his hand in their hair, and the way they’d gasped and moaned… fuck… It had been so unhindered. They hadn’t tried to hold anything back. They’d begged for more…

Shards of memories flittered across his half-asleep mind. It had been good. He relaxed. It had been sloppy and rough at times, but he’d edged them both, dragging it out. He had a clear memory of Darlin looking up at him, panting, with moonlight in their eyes.

He’d never seen them like that. He’d caught glimpses of them relaxed over the years, moments where they were too tired or too drunk to have their guard up. He’d seen them smile or laugh in those moments, but he’d never seen this. He’d known Darlin trusted him, of course he had, but that had been trust as a pack member. This had been something else, something complete and so breathtakingly close to surrender that he felt the pride of it still wrapped around his core.

And then he remembered their face when they’d been at his door, trying to run.

“Do you really want the whole damn pack to know that you got drunk and fucked me, Greer?”

And he’d let them go like that.

He could pretend he didn’t know what they were thinking, but he did. There had always been rumors and shit talk about Darlin and their family in the pack, as much as some of them had tried to put a stop to it. He knew Darlin well enough to know that they believed most of that shit said about them too. And he’d let them walk thinking he gave a fuck about what other people might think…

And if he didn’t go to the barbeque tonight… They would think he was avoiding them.

Or embarrassed.

Or ashamed.

Milo was out of bed, scrubbing a hand over his face but flicking on the lights. He wanted to sleep off this hangover but he couldn’t risk missing the get-together. He’d find some painkillers for the headache, eat the leftovers in his fridge, and then figure out what to do for a dessert.

#milo/darlin #redactedverse #fanfic #dominimoonbeam #<3 #communication issues forever #part one of two!#Darlin is a runner #Asher sees all

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steveharringtonat3am · 1 year

Text

Reluctance

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 776

warnings: soft!dom steve, spanking, praise kink

a/n: this is entirely for @carolmunson who put this idea in my head! here you go bestie! (also i swear i will write something other than smut that has real plot your girl is just swamped rn so this is all you get)

It started in the morning.

As you and Steve got ready this morning for a day of errands, something in you just insisted on wearing your little plaid skirt with an eyebrow raising excuse for a shirt. The outfit made Steve do a double take and you just knew he wanted to say something.

“You sure you won’t be cold?” He asks, which is code for ‘go put more clothes on’ but you choose to ignore the hidden subtext.

“Nope! The weather is supposed to be really nice today!” You smile at him over your shoulder as you fix your hair. You can see him deciding to let this slide for now. Now, that should mean that you should be on your best behaviour for the rest of the day, but where’s the fun in that?

You decide to go to the mall first, as Dustin’s birthday is coming up and neither of you have found him a present. Ending up at the record store, the devil in you decides to get a little closer than normal to Eddie, leaning on the counter to talk to him. You see his eyes flick down every once in a while, the angle giving him a perfect view down the top of your shirt.

Unfortunately, the action doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve. He’s quick to grab your hand and tug you out of the store, barely saying a word to Eddie as he storms out.

“What’s wrong babe?” You play dumb as he continues to tug you out of the mall, Dustin’s present be damned.

“Don’t give me that now baby.” He shoots you a look, angry eyes slightly softening when he sees your pout.

“You promised we could get ice cream…” You’re really laying it on thick at this point. It makes Steve sigh, conflict raging in his head. He HAD promised to get you some ice cream. But that was before you pushed him a little too far.

“That was before. Now…well now I have to punish you.” His hand rests on the bare skin of your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the skin.

You’re quiet as he parks the car, following him inside. Excitement bubbles in your stomach, but there’s always a small tinge of worry before a punishment. You never wanted to push Steve too far into getting actually mad and you rarely saw this kind of reluctance from him.

You follow him to the bedroom, where he turns and beckons you forward. The second you’re close enough, he grabs your hips and pulls you flush against his chest.

“Such a pretty girl…” He cups your cheek and you melt into his touch.

“Shame I have to punish you.” Steve frowns like it genuinely hurts him to punish you. He pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed. You don’t wait for him to say anything, obediently laying across his lap.

“So smart!” He coos as he bunches your skirt up around your hips, exposing your ass.

“Gonna take your punishment?”

“Y-yes daddy.” Any disobedience has been thoroughly pushed aside with the threat of a spanking.

“Good. Would hate to make this difficult on my baby.” He sounds so soft but he starts off hard, smacking you quickly. It stings and you instinctually squirm.

“I know baby…hurts doesn’t it?” He smooths his hand over the skin as the sting fades.

“Yeah…hurts daddy” You turn to pout at him and he melts just a little.

“I don’t like it anymore then you do baby. But this is the only way to get my good girl back.” He gives no warning before the second smack. You suck in a quick breath and manage to stay still this time.

He doesn’t give anymore breaks after that, relentless as he spanks you. But he lays on the praise thick.

SMACK

“Such a pretty girl.”

SMACK

“Love you so much sweetheart.”

SMACK

“My perfect angel.”

SMACK

“All done now baby. Took it so well.” He sits you up on his lap, gently kissing away the tears that have collected.

“It hurt me more than it hurt you, sweetheart.” Steve smiles softly as you pout up at him.

“Am-am I still your good girl daddy?” You mumble, pressing kisses to his jaw. He’s so hard and it fills your head with sinful ideas.

“So good. In fact…I think you deserve a reward.” He pushes you onto the bed, kissing you desperately. And the only thing on your mind?

‘Thank god I was such a brat’

hope you enjoyed!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things smut

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moshpitgamma · 4 months

Note

i NEED queen barb x fem reader PLEASEEEE

YESS MEH BBY!! I HOPE YUH ENJOY😫😮‍💨💗

Fallin’ For You||🎸Barb x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mild Cussing, IT’S LONG😭😭

FYI: f/f= fav food, f/c=fav color, f/b=fav band, f/d=favorite drink

——————————

You were a f/c troll that was feisty and stubborn. You were into all tastes of music, but rock really fascinated you the most. So when your brother ran into your room to tell you he managed to get two tickets to see f/b, you were ecstatic as hell. Choosing an outfit was always your worst enemy. It usually ended with you bothering your brother about your outfit and asking if it’s too much or if it doesn’t have enough. But tonight you really put your all into it and got some pretty good results. (You can pick one here or choose one yourself idm☺️)

“B/N I’M DONE” you yelled from your room. You didn’t get a response but you heard muffled stomps headed towards your room. And there stood your brother in his best f/b attire. “Damn didn’t know the living mob could dress” he jokingly said while trying to hold his giggles in as he saw the almost visible irritation mark coming up on your forehead. “Alright jackass not to much” you said not wanting to have a whole sibling fight before the best concert of your life. “We better get going before we be late n/n” your brother said walking towards the door to leave. “Alright I’m coming” you said following the other still irritated by the teasing he did on your outfit.

SKIP TO THE CONCERTT🎸😏✨‼️

You have been up and dancing for about a good 2 hours and you were getting dehydrated from sweating and your throat was dry from all the constant yelling you were doing. So you decided to go get a drink. You told your brother where you were going and he gave you a $50 bill. “Why so much? I’m just going to get a f/d” you questioned your brother. “Damn n/n I’m hungry, that’s why you lil nosy” he said out of breath from all of the dancing, but still in a snarky way. “OK, shit I was just asking” you shot back while walking away from y’all seats, after he told you what he wanted from the concession stand.

Since it was crowded in the area you were in, you were squeezing past people saying occasional excuse me’s and sorry’s, but when you were almost out the horde, someone bumped into you and made you knock someone and their nachos. “OH CRAP, I’m so sorry are you ok?” You asked the stranger who still was on the ground after the harsh push. “Shit I just bought those you bastard” the mystery person yelled back as you (tried) to help her off the ground. “HEY! I’m not a bastard” you yelled back, getting irritated at the arrogant person in front of you. Once she was fully up she looked at who knocked her over and all of her snarky comebacks she had instantly left her mind. Before she could respond, you beat her to it.

“Even tho you was an ass to me you could’ve at least let me explain what happened” you said a little calmer than before but you noticed she started to stare. She was staring at you for about 3 minutes before you tried to get her attention again. “Yoooo are you good? Do you have a concussion?” You asked a lil panicked as you rushed to check her clothes and head for any injuries or damage.

While you were checking her clothes and head she couldn’t help but get the smell of your self intoxicating scent. Whiskey and chocolate was all she smelled and for some reason it left her with a wave of neediness and the need to know you. She still didn’t notice she was staring until she felt a sharp sting on her hand. “OW what the hell” she shrieked rubbing her stinging hand. “FINALLY! You had me worried over here. Thought you blacked out on me”you said while sighing a sigh of relief. All she could muster up was a “yea I’m good.” Barb never felt this way towards anyone before so she was kinda weirded out from how she was acting. “Well I just wanted to say sorry again and if I could buy you another thing of nachos to make up for your last batch” you offered feeling a different sensation in your stomach.

Once she heard your offer she couldn’t help but accept and for some reason she tried to strike up a conversation while you guys were waiting in line. “Sooo you like f/b?” She asked assuming you were here because of the merch you were wearing. “Yea I LOVE f/b. They just have a way of making how I feel come to life through music you know” you said smiling a soft and barely unnoticeable smile. Barb caught on to the tiny smile and flushed a little and felt her face get hot. “Barb” she said earning a confused “huh” from you. “Barb” she said again “it’s my name” she said in a confirming voice to dissipate the confusion you had. “Oh, my name is y/n”you said in a confident tone as you saw how she blushed at the sound of your name. Before she could respond you were already ordering y’all’s order. “Hi can I get a f/d, f/f, and nachos.” “I like extra jalapeños on my nachos” Barb threw in so the cashier could know.

You were astonished at how many jalapeños Barb had on her nachos. “Your mouth is going to burn like hell” you said in an amazed voice. When she heard you in an astonished tone she wanted to prove you wrong instantly. So she betted that if she could finish her nachos without a drink and succeed, you would have to give her your number. You never backed down from a challenge so you agreed and you had to admit she was cute so it was a win-win either way.

After 15 minutes Barb managed to eat all of her nachos without a drink and successfully won the bet. “Told you short stuff. I told you I could do it.” She said pridefully with a little flirtiness in her voice. Once you heard the little nickname she gave you, a blush appeared on you f/c cheeks. She saw the blush and mentally gave herself and her ego a high five. “I guess a bet is a bet” you said while pulling out a napkin and a pen. Barb was confused about what you were doing, until she remembered what was her reward for winning the bet. Now she was the one blushing, taking the napkin with your name and number on it. “I’m glad I ran into you Barb” you said before kissing her cheek and walking away. Little did you know when you were finally out of sight, she was already texting you and gushing over the kiss you gave her on the cheek like a little kid.

THE ENDDD~~~😏🎸

#trolls #trolls 2 #trolls barb x reader #trolls barb #trolls world tour x reader #trolls world tour #trolls x reader

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