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#but simply the fact that I thought of so many and you probably are too means it stays in cause LMAO
gay-dorito-dust · 1 day
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Would they or would they not catch you…
Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.
He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.
‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.
‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.
‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.
You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.
Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀
Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.
He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.
‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.
‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.
You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.
Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.
However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.
Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.
‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.
‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.
Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.
What a sweetheart.
Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.
Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”
( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)
Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.
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coconutdays · 5 months
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s. on a very drunk night, satoru exposes your crush on the famous mma fighter, and friend of yours, toji zenin
w.c. 12.3k
w. fem! reader, mma!toji! x reader , fluff!, smut!
a/n: this might not be proofread well but I hope yall enjoy. im very in love with this man!
"I can't believe I lost that stock today!"
you're out having drinks with your friends at a fancy bar in shibuya when satoru gets shitfaced drunk. the matter is nothing new. he's the lightweight of the group and doesn't care about getting home most of the time because he knows either you or suguru will take charge and take him home.
you're taking frequent sips of your whiskey as you watch one of the country's most successful business owners mope over a small, so very minuscule, fraction of his wealth fly by. suguru is sitting next to you at the booth and exchanges a look of 'idiot' in reference to the white haired man's sad life story. sukuna is in front of you and no look needs to be exchanged because he simply acts on his thoughts and gives satoru a smack on the back of his head.
and toji's at the center of the booth, smooshed between shoko and satoru. he's looking at satoru in mild amusement, a small smirk on his face at the fool's stupidity as he too drinks from a glass of whiskey. he's wearing a low scooped black long sleeve that probably costs a thousand dollars and rightfully so, it makes him look so handsome. the price nothing compared to the pay he makes as a world champion mma fighter. 
you've known him for the better part of a year, a bit more actually. satoru met him near the end of your college career on a business whim with his father and has since made him a member of your friend group. you're not as close as you wish you could be, the immense nerves you have in fear of him even getting an inkling that you're attracted to him have always stopped you from initiating a more than necessary amount of text conversations or random phone calls. satoru could do that, you couldn't. god, you've even seen suguru have more dms with the raven haired fighter than you. even in the group chat all of you share, you can't bring yourself to connect with him aside from teaming up to tease satoru or sukuna. 
the last thing you ever conversed with him on your phone was a conversation you, surprisingly, started. he had told you about this one taco place and said you would love it based on your shared interest of food. when you told him you'd try it, he had told you, 'better send me a picture when you're there.' and you did. he had sent a laughing emoji when he asked if you liked the food and you said, 'I'd step on lime juice covered shards of glass to eat this again.'
that was the last thing you'd see in your messages between each other. 
he was close to four years older than all of you, except for sukuna, they were only a year apart. he had this endearing scar across his lip that curved so achingly whenever he smiled or grinned. he was built gorgeously, his back a sight to behold whenever you got to see him fight. and his eyes, fuck, the bright mix between grey and green always had you throwing a fit in your bed and wishing you could have him. 
nevertheless, you go back to paying attention to satoru. 
"you profit from so many other stocks satoru. that one stock is just a random occurrence."
"but the ladies won't want to go out with a guy who loses even one stock!" he looks up from where he's sprawled across the table, pouting at you.
"the fact that you're a millionaire at the age of 23 already gets enough ladies." you roll your eyes, unable to help the twitch of your lips at the sight of a little bit of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth
"it's not enough." he mutters
this time, you and sukuna share a deadpan face and you flick satoru's forehead, leaning only slightly across the table.
"yeah you're right. satoru gojo is such a loser for losing a stock, none of the girls are gonna want him now."
out of the corner of your eye, you see toji huff a little laugh at your antics, it makes your heart skip a beat a little that he finds you, even if its mostly satoru, funny.
"don't mock me!" satoru's cheeks are red as he scowls at you the best he can.
"she's not mocking." sukuna snorts, taking a swig of his beer.
"yea she is!" satoru points at you, "I never mock you about toji!"
everybody in the group stills except for satoru, who looks like he's still revved up about the subject.
much like cassie's reaction in euphoria when rue asked her how long she had been fucking nate, all you could do was nervously laugh.
"what–what are you talking about?"
you can feel your entire body starting to shake in fear. it was like you were in elementary again and some mean friend of yours was going to expose your crush on the popular boy of your grade. the fear was something you never thought you'd experience again.
"don't act stupidddd." satoru drags on, as if toji fucking zenin wasn't right next to him, "you're always talking about how bad you want toji and that ' I wish I could talk to him' bullcrap!" he says the last part in imitation of you with a high pitched voice.
suguru is staring at satoru in terror. sukuna is looking at you, in peril for you. shoko looks like she mentally checked out so she couldn't feel your embarrassment.
...and toji is staring at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, like he doesn't know what to say.
your phone is in your pocket. check. your purse is on your lap. check. satoru can pay for your tab when he comes to his senses. check.
all you can do is abruptly get up and start to dash away, ignoring the yell for you from suguru. you don't look back, pure peril and adrenaline taking over your body as you make it out of the bar as quickly as possible, thanking whatever god that you chose to wear the easiest pair of heels to walk today.
the metro, the metro, the metro.
you look around for a quick second, only taking a second to remember what way the metro was before you rush in its direction. you feel a buzz coming from your pocket when you do, and you can only figure its one of your friends, trying to get you to come back.
you ignore it and rush down the escalator to the metro, making a glance behind you and noting that nobody was behind you. thank god. however, it doesn't stop your pace and your heels click and clack you all the way to a seat on the train to your part of town. 
fuck.
your entire body feels like its on fire and melting. 
toji knows you like him.
fuck.
suguru 5 missed calls
shoko girl where did you go?
sukuna 1 missed call dude, since when do you run track
you have to stop yourself from bashing your head on the pole in front of you. shakily, you press on suguru's contact to call him. you would tell him you were going to home so he wouldn't need to worry. what's the worst that could happen by now anyway. 
"y/n? hello?"
"I'm on the train home." you breathe
"that fast?" he doesn't exclaim, he's not the type to show his surprise so blatantly like his counterpart but you can hear his concern at the fact.
"yeah." you murmur, stomach churning now that the adrenaline's worn off.
suguru sighs, "satoru is scared you're going to kill him now."
and you can hear his wails in the background. 'no she's going to come after me!' 'I need to up my security!' 'is that her on the phone?! y/n pleasseee forgive me!'
your nose scrunches in annoyance and you blurt, "I'm not going to kill you stupid idiot!"
"she says she's not going to kill you." suguru says to satoru and you can hear what you presuppose is suguru pushing the drunk fiend off of him before he continues talking to you, "about toji–"
you feel your stomach drop at the mention of the name, he's still there with them, fully aware of your feelings for him
"ah! don't wanna hear it!"
the beginning of a call to your name from suguru went ignored as you immediately pulled your phone back and pressed the little red button.
the sky had literally fallen for you and now you had to deal with the aftermath—which you weren’t doing right this second, due to what you just did to your friends, but you’d do it eventually. being an adult made sure you had to face it sometime soon. its just that toji zenin learning from satoru gojo that you had a massive crush on him had not ever been something you expected. hell you never expected him to find out in any sort of way, ever. god, he was never supposed to know.
well, your fun was over, you had to move on now. if you wanted your friend group to stay normal and go back to the way it was, the looming existence of your feelings for the world renowned fighter had to die. you could tough it through that, you could come back and say ‘i thought it over and don’t have feelings for you anymore toji so don’t worry about acting weird with me. we’re casual friends like we’ve always been.’
a particular rattle of the train had you planting your feet on the floor purposefully and waiting for it to fully stop before you got up. you were five minutes from your apartment now, the walk you started now would pass by in a flash and you’d get to wallow in your misery soon.
ordering takeout sounded nice and so did watching your favorite show, especially after a warm shower, it had been quite chilly tonight. 
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you had no room to really think about your predisposition in regards to toji zenin the next day, having to attend work then go to a work party afterwards at some high end restaurant/bar located at the top floor of a skyscraper overlooking tokyo. at work, you had to host various meetings and delegate new responsibilities you planned out the day before to your peers. it was all very hectic since it was all a completely new project. you had barely looked at your phone and even if you did, there wouldn’t be much to fret over, your friends had busy lives too. and right after, you had to head straight home and get ready for the party later that evening. 
you were sporting a tight black dress with light red flowers embellished across it later that night while you drank champagne and conversed with your coworkers. it had been a decent night so far and you had photos taken of you along with your peers, they’d probably be posted on the company website or social media. 
there had been some interesting work tea to listen in on too, your rival company was involved in it too and you were smushed against your coworkers in a red leather lined booth with dim lighting to listen in on all of it. it was more than worthy of your time by the end of it, you deemed. you would have to tell shoko and sukuna about it whenever you got the chance next time. yes, sukuna liked tea, he was an ass who loved hearing about ass things happening. 
the craving for a new glass of champagne sent you to the bar the moment the story ended, so you sat up on one of the chairs lining it while you waited for the bartender to get to you. you could see your ceo already getting shit-faced from where you were and it was funny, she always did that and always managed to get embarrassed the next time everyone saw her in the office. 
“are you part of that office party?”
a large and handsome figure suddenly appeared before you, blocking the view of your boss. he was wearing a rather expensive looking black suit with a silky blue dress shirt under, all of which couldn’t hide the obvious hard and sturdy muscles under them due to the complimentary tailoring. when you took in his face, you had to hold back the urge to widen your eyes. he was excessively good looking, with sharp and devilish features sketched across his face, intertwining hand in hand with his semi-long brown wavy hair pushed back and away from his face, save for a singular pretty strand falling near his brow and down his cheek. and that scar near his eye, it seemed so familiar…
you had to blink yourself back into reality when you realized you were taking a bit too long to answer his question. 
“yes,” you finally responded, trying your best to remain neutral and politely smile at him
he leaned against the open spot of the bar table between your seat and the empty one behind him, one hand in his pocket as he smiled down at you, “you’re very beautiful.”
your spit got caught in your throat at the blatant admission, this time unable to hide the way your head reeled back a little and started sporting a rising heat on your cheeks in slight shock, “oh–i–thank you.”
his smile grew wider at your flustered state and he reached a hand out for you to shake, “aizen sosuke.”
so at to remain polite, you shook his hand and repeated your name back to him in return for his, but in reality your head was falling in on itself
him.
fuck.
that’s aizen sosuke, the other world renowned mma fighter that you were very aware of due to his competitive nature and rivalry with toji. as far as you were aware, toji absolutely hated him, and you were sure aizen did too. anytime the rivalry came up into the conversation you saw toji’s eyes darken and his posture straighten in seething hate for the man. if satoru felt like getting on his nerves, as he did with everyone, he always knew to mention the tall brunette to get a visceral reaction out of him. it was bad. wait–
they have a fight tomorrow.
oh god, this was all types of fucked up. you've been pining after toji this whole year and he just found out yesterday and now you're talking to his rival who's very obviously flirting with you.
...but he was aizen sosuke, aside from that, and he just called you beautiful.
“is there any particular celebration happening?” he tilted his head to the side a little in curiosity 
“no, not this time,” you breathed, trying to shake the nerves off, “my boss just likes to treat us frequently and…well herself.”
“is that the only occasion where you get treated as of late?”
suave
and you can’t help the small knowing smile starting to creep up your lips, “as of late, yes, although she mostly does it in drinks.”
“dinner isn’t often?” he leans a little closer, his lips quirking up a little
“no,” you shake your head, aware of the way your eyes are smiling back at him too.
“allow me to treat you then,” he says confidently, watching as the bartender slides you your champagne
“In exchange for…?” you quirk a brow up at him as you take a sip
“what are you willing to give?” he bites back with a canine smile, still looming over you and infringing himself a little into your space even.
“nothing.” you snark back smoothly, pressing a finger into the middle expanse of his chest. he’s really sturdy, you note before continuing, “dinner with me should be a prize enough.”
he laughs at your response handsomely, reeling away from your space in accordance with the finger of yours pushing him away, “i’ll pay for everything. hell, send me the receipt for your outfit if you feel like it. i’m sure some sort of gratitude will overcome you.”
“ravenous,” you tut your glass in his direction, “i’ll politely decline then mr sosuke.”
“you haven’t even allowed yourself to grace over the thought of spending a night in my sheets,” he’s leaned down to speak so sensually next to your ear, “if your line of work is a stress, i can make you forget all about it.”
“i’ve allowed myself to grace it,” you speak back lowly, matching his game, “and i can only see you adding onto my stress by the end of it.”
“you’re oddly confident about that,” he smiles deviously, turning his head so that you’re face to face with him, “i aim to please, if any.”
“to please?” you question in haughty disbelief, squinting your eyes playfully at him
“to please,” he’s still smiling, eyes fleeting to your lips for a second, “i could relay the details if you’d like.”
“that’s unecessary,” you laugh at his boldness, turning your head away from his, “but it’s not something i’m interested in. im only looking for stability right now.”
“how unfortunate for the both of us tonight then,” he retreats back into his space before reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone, then splaying it out in his hand for you to take, “at least leave me your number. i can be capable of stability for the right woman.”
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you feel your phone buzzing erratically that night, when you’ve washed away the night’s events and lay comfortably in your bed with a glass of water cradled to you. upon first looking at your messages, you were greeted by a paparazzi picture of you, courtesy screenshot from gojo, and aizen speaking at the bar. it was one of you smiling and looking up and him while he was leaning down, face inches away from yours as he returned your toothy grin.
satoru img_736 ?????? is that aizen sosuke?! dude are you fucking him rn
sukuna  take one of his trophy belts when you come back home
shoko lol he looks hot in blue
suguru  satoru, aren’t you supposed to be on your flight back from dubai right now?
satoru first class has excellent cell service ha and y/n hasn’t answered aizen def has his hands busy rn
shoko it’s only been five minutes since you sent that picture plus she’s at her work party, i think. she probably just met him there
satoru who cares bud looks like he’s ready to pounce 
sukuna heard he likes bdsm shit
satoru send pics of his paddle lol y/n
suguru both of you are despicable
shoko let us know if he has good stamina
suguru the three of you
all those messages had been sent ten minutes ago and you gaped at your friends’ mischief
y/n  I AM NOT WARMING AIZEN SOSUKE’S BED RN!
satoru liar, he’s in your mouth rn isn’t he
y/n  literally shut up toru i’m in my bed. no aizen near
sukuna  sure you are you looked real horned up smiling at him in the pics
y/n LMAO  he was a little funny ok, i couldn’t help laughing
shoko oh he was funny hm
suguru  actually worried a little at that statement wdym he was a little funny
y/n im going to crucify all of you he tried getting me to warm his bed and was very smooth abt it, but i said no gave him my number though :p since he asked for it
satoru was that before or after he told you you have great boobs img_737 could not have been more obvious about it
the stupid texts from your friend had you laughing out loud and setting down your glass of water on your bedside table before you pressed on the microphone button and sent a loud, giggly voice message for emphasis of your previous point.
“I didn’t fuck aizen! and he didn’t need to tell me i have great boobs, i saw him staring at them the entire time.”
sukuna you are not living this down if we see hickeys on you tomorrow
satoru what he said ^^
and there came the realization, 
toji and aizen’s fight was tomorrow
and all of you always showed up to toji’s fights ever since you befriended him
hell, fuck, you hadn’t even remembered he was in this group chat too. fuck fuck fuck. was this good? was this bad? he hadn’t said anything and he never really took too long to answer sometimes. no, this was the night before a fight, he’s probably already knocked out right now considering the late hour. but still, what of when he woke up to the messages tomorrow? would this help ease the knowledge of your being into him? oh she’s already flirting with some guy she’s not into me as much as a i thought so i dont feel as awkward around her anymore. but what if he thought you were doing this purposefully to get a reaction out of him and that you were so obsessed with him, you did it for that sole reason. you didn’t even want to come to the fight anymore. could you get out of it somehow? no, stupid satoru knows you’re free tomorrow and that would add more drama to your ‘up and dash’ incident from the bar yesterday night. 
you turned around and flailed on your bed, screaming into your pillow in the process.
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regrettably, you show up to toji’s fight the following afternoon, trying your best to suppress the notion that aside from having to be near toji later, that aizen was going to see you too, and that whole ordeal would be something different entirely for you to deal with.
you dressed pretty well, you always did, but you added a little more effort than the usual when picking your outfit for the day. it was ufc fight night worthy and showed a generous amount of skin, the pictures you would upload later that night to instagram would be amazing. 
sukuna snickered when he saw you, pulling you in for a quick friendly hug as he said, “wanted zenin to see that you really didn’t fuck sosuke?”
you gaped at him and held back a smile as you smacked him with your purse, “i will hurt you ‘kuna.”
“try me, idiot,” he bites back with a snarky smile before sinking into one of the cage-side seats toji always managed to get for you guys. you had already said hi to the rest of your friends before getting to him and all felt normal until that dumbass made his dumb comment about your crush on toji. satoru, had of course, without a doubt, inspected you for hickeys and love bites immediately upon your arrival and had given you a suspicious look, as if to say, ‘you got away with it this time.’ he was always ridiculous like that, trying to cling onto random drama, even if he gaslit himself, all for his own fun. 
“i really did not expect to meet him last night at the bar,” you sighed after you sat down, taking in the bustling crowds of people gathering in the arena with him
“fuckin hilarous,” he all but barks evilly in amusement at your predicament before taking a swig of his beer, “paparazzi is gonna have a field day thinking you’re aizen’s girl now that you’re here.”
“WAIT!” 
you immediately sit upright at the realization and turn your body towards sukuna, jaw hung open and eyes wide in panic.
“holy shit. what the fuck.” you start having an existensial crisis and sukuna, the great friend he is starts snickering at your dilemma, finding humor in your panicked expression
“go sit near his side of the arena,” he jeers, “there’s some open seats.”
you run your hands down your face, stressed, “i thought the worst i had to deal with would be aizen seeing me here.”
“still is,” sukuna is still smirking at you evilly, “everything is shit about your day today.”
and then the lights dim and sporadic blue lights start sparkling across the arena
“get ready to say hi to your boyfriends,” sukuna teases with a canine grin before leaning over to see who would do their walkout first.
and it’s toji first.
he’s so beautiful and rugged, wearing skin tight black shorts that highlight every muscle underneath them and his eyes are glowing so pretty against the fluroscents, even if he has a murderous look on them right now. his staff are behind him as he walks through the arena, and looking at them almost distracts you from the way toji holds you in a cutthroat stare the moment he spots you, and only you.
you can hear satoru’s sly voice saying from near you, “nice.”
too scared to look away from toji, you can only speak to your friends without turning to address them, “why is toji giving me a death stare?”
“cause you fucked aizen,” satoru’s teasing lilt jeers
“yeah,” shoko agrees
“i did not fuck aizen,” you bite through gritted teeth as toji walks into the fighting cage, eyes still on you.
“tell that to him,” sukuna snickers
“don’t think about it too much,” suguru tries to comfort
then the lights starts blaring furiously again and aizen’s presence is announced throughout the entire arena. and you were really right about that suit being unable to hide those muscles, because without any clothing over them…they were enormous and mouth-watering.
all of you watch as he, accompanied by his staff too, walks to the cage, handsome smirk planted on his face. 
“would you look at that,” satoru starts, “he doesn’t have your scratch marks all over his back.”
“ha ha,” you sarcastically mutter back when aizen enters the cage and he situates himself in his side, taking in his surroundings, like those sitting in the cage side seats.
like you.
you know he’s spotted you because of the way his eyebrows raise in surprise and the wolfish smile that starts forming on his face the moment you make eye contact. and you know toji’s noticed too because of the way he turns to you too and keeps looking between you and the fighter in front of him.
satoru whistles while sukuna howls, both leaning down to elbow you from either side much to your annoyance
“scratch the paparazzi thinking youre here for aizen being the worst thing capable of happening today,” satoru sighs haughtily, “if toji loses, you’re in for it.”
you spin your head to him, panicked, “what?! is he gonna stop being my friend?!”
satoru shrugs, nonchalant, “don’t know, just keep watching sweetheart.”
so you did and it was unnerving.
when the fight started and toji and aizen started squaring up against each other, you could see aizen start speaking to him. his mouth was moving a little and a smile crept up on it when he jeered his chin in your direction, all of which you saw toji answer back with what looked like single word short answers and a sneer on his face.
“wonder what they’re talking about,” suguru questioned softly
“i have a small idea,” satoru said under his breath before toji threw the first punch and the chaos ensued.
the fight consisted of a lot of hisses and ows coming from everyone, including you, in the arena. toji and aizen were really putting in the work to beat the crap out of each other. ten minutes had passed and toji was already bleeding from his mouth and aizen had blood falling down his nose. both of their bodies were beat too, red splotches blossoming all over them as a reaction to the various kicks and punches both of them sent to each other. 
however it looked like it was reaching its cusp when aizen got toji in a headlock and muttered something while looking at you. 
which must have given toji enough energy to quickly peel himself off and knock his face in a couple of times. and when aizen stood up straight after it to counter, he was bleeding profusely from his mouth and smiled so devilshly at you before wandering into toji’s space again. 
“hot,” shoko commented while gnawing on a toothpick
and that continued, the smiles at you from him, with his questionably hot bleeding mouth while he sported a beating from toji or gave it to him. but it started dying down when toji actually started knocking him in so close to his own victory. and there wasn’t much aizen could do until toji pinned him down and forced him into submission,
all while aizen stared at you and even had the gall to wink while his loss was announced
satoru whistled again, “the balls on this guy. surprised you aren’t soaked right now.”
people were starting to filter out when the winner and loser were officially announced and were beginning to get escorted back to their locker rooms.
“come on,” sukuna muttered as he drank the last of his beer and got up with the rest of you to go to toji’s room.
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when all of you are rushed into toji’s locker room, you somehow wound up standing next to him, where he’s seated on a bench and wiping the blood off his face with a hand towel.
“congrats,” you mumble, along with the others
“what’d he say to you during the fight,” leered satoru, both of his hands in his pockets and his shades over his eyes again now that he doesn’t have to watch the fight.
“none of your business,” muttered toji after wiping his face again, “where’s my fucking water?”
“here sir, here,” one of his goonies said while weaving through the people in the room and nervously handing him a water bottle
“thanks,” he huffs with a small glare before opening the bottle and starting to chug from it
“who do you fight after this,” sukuna asks
toji shrugs and looks towards his manager, who then starts to explain the next sequence of events after this win. and it lasts for thirty minutes before everyone falls quiet and toji gets up abruptly
“alright, get out. ‘m gonna change,” he all but demands for everyone to leave ominously
and you listen to his words, letting the half closest to the door start to filter out before you make to move your feet and suddenly toji’s holding onto your arm.
“where do you think you’re going?” he huffs when the last person leaves the room and the door clicks shut
you feel like a deer caught in headlights and feel yourself start to grow nervous, “outside…to let you change?”
“you gonna fuck him?”
and you gaslight yourself into pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about, “who?”
he deadpans at you with bored and almost annoyed green eyes and you have to look away from him when you murmur, “no…i don’t know. listen, me having a thing for you isn’t that serious and if i entertain aizen it isn’t so you can finally notice me or something, i just–”
“when the fuck did i say i never noticed you before?”
your eyes widen and you didn’t know what to say
“what? you think it’s so easy for me to try and talk to your dumbass too?” he pulls you closer by the arm he’s already holding, scowl etched across his face
“what,” is the only thing you can get out in your nerves
toji glares at you, “when silver spoon said you wish you could talk to me, did it ever cross your smartass that i don’t know how to talk to you either?”
“no,” you let out meekly, struggling to make eye contact with him and feeling your heart rate go up by a million beats per minute
“so,” toji tugs on your arm again, “are you gonna fuck him?”
you look away to a locker near when you mumble, “do you not want me to?”
“no, i fucking don’t.”
“then i won’t.”
“great,” he lets go of you and now centers himself to stand in front of you, quirking a brow up when he asks, “you gonna let me take you out on a date?”
you have to fight the urge to fiddle with your hands as you look back up at him, “when?”
“tonight.”
“shouldn’t you rest after a fight!?” your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, pupils darting to the blood staining his lips
“not if i don’t feel like it,” he shrugs, before gaining a threatening aura, “or do you wanna bite the bullet and get lunch right now? you won’t have time to get a pretty dress on.”
panicked at his suggestion, you mindlessly put your hands against his chest and plead, “no! tonight is fine, tonight is fine!”
“thought so,” he huffs back at you, corners of his mouth quirking up a little 
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and put on a pretty dress you did, a red sultry one that teetered between innocence and sex. it had toji staring you down as you took the unfathombly large bouquet of flowers he brought for you from his arms and set it on your kitchen island.
“where are we going?” you turned to look at him while he drove you to whatever destination he had in mind for tonight, playing with the metal clasp of your handbag
toji had been leaned against the driver side door of his car, with one hand holding onto his chin while the other steered, he seemed oddly pensive.
“allen’s,” he gruffly swallowed before straightening up and putting both of his hands on the steering wheel. you weren’t surprised by the mention of the michelin star restaurant, he could afford it and had the status for it anyways
so you couldn’t help but speak, “are you nervous?”
his entire body tensed visibly and his eyes slightly widened, glancing at you for a half second before looking back at the road and relaxing, “what do you think smartass?”
a smile crept its way onto your face, “well i am too.”
“you gonna run away again?” he side eyed you with a slight gleam of mischief
your face flushed and your mouth gaped, turning to look at the road too now instead of at him, crossing your arms as you huffed, “what else was i supposed to do? not like you had anything to say either, had your mouth open like a fish when i got exposed…”
“least i didn’t run,” he huffed back
“well you didnt try to contact me after,” you sasssed, sensing his growing irritation
“you’re a real pain in my ass,” he glared at you, “you know that right?”
“and you’re not acting like the guy who just won a fight earlier today.”
toji had just parked outside the restaurant and splayed his hands across the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing from what you could tell. 
“i didn’t know what to say, okay negative nancy?” he finally turned to you, green eyes striking under the night sky and neon lights from the restaurant name shining through, “and then when i was going to call your pretty ass the next day, i saw the pictures of fuck face raw dogging you at the bar.”
“he didn’t fuck me,” you whined in complaint as you splayed yourself across the center console of his car and batted your scorned eyes at him, “how many times do i have to tell you guys?”
“well you were real close to,” he smirked at you before something serious fell across his features and his eyes darted to your handbag, “matter a fact, block his number right now.”
your head perked up at the demand and you blinked at him, “i dont have his number.”
toji squinted his eyes at you, “you said you gave him your number in the group chat.”
“yeah but he hasn’t called me or anything, so i never got his.”
the ravenette rolled his eyes, taking his keys out of the ignition and pointing at you with them, “when he does, you better fucking block him.”
“i will,” you nod obediently, watching as he starts to get out of the car
you move to take off your seat belt and he leans back into the vehicle with a warning look, “i’ll unbuckle it, don’t move.”
and he does, closing the door of his side before walking over to you and opening the door to kneel in and take off your seat belt, then giving you a helping hand to get out.
“thank you,” you murmur appreciatively as you watch your step before landing a quick kiss to his cheek. and if it affected him, you wouldn’t know, he said nothing and held onto your arm softly while he guided the both of you to the restaurant entrance.
“you look hot by the way,” he breathed out before opening the door and entering with you, giving you no chance to respond when the hostess immediately greeted the both of you and began to lead you to a table.
it was intimate, the table. it was small and dainty, relatively little space would be between you and the gruff fighter. and both of your seats were at the same corner of the table, making the distance shorter than it would have been sitting across from each other. 
toji instinctively pulled out your chair for you and muttered out a sound of acknowledgement when you thanked him as he sat down. 
“you gonna drink?” he quirked a brow at you, gesturing towards the menu of alcohol planted right in front of the both of you
“a little red wine sounds nice,” you try to say politely, “you?”
“nah,” he responds while raising a hand for a waiter to come by, “i need to drive you home. you like sweet or bitter wine?”
“sweet.”
and so he orders a wine for you to drink right off the bat, saying a thank you as the waiter walks away to get the bottle.
“does your mouth hurt?”
toji hums mindlessly, as if his head had been somewhere else before he perks up again and says, “come again sweetheart?”
the pet name had you a little fluststered in speaking again, feeling your body grow hot as you gestured to his mouth meekly, “your mouth, it was bleeding after the fight, does it still hurt?”
the corners of his mouth start to rise as he encroaches into your space, eyes lusty, “nothing a little kiss won’t make better.” 
your breath hitches and you feel like pushing him away to hide how easily he’s affected you, “you’re shameless.”
toji is inches away from your face now, and he tilts his head in fake hurt, “i took those punches from the lowlife trying to steal my girl away, doesn’t that mean i deserve a reward?”
you try to keep your face serious as you deadpan, willing your need to laugh away as best you can, “your girl?”
“my girl,” toji grins sleazily 
you’re about to bite back when the waiter comes back with the bottle of wine toji ordered for you and the menus for tonight’s dinner. toji takes the bottle from the waiter and insists on serving you your glass himself while you begin to look at the menu. choosing a meal was difficult with all the delicious options available, every description making your mouth water, you wanted everything. when you complained to toji about not knowing what to get because of all the options, he brushed you off while still reading his menu.
“get whatever you want, we can come again and again until you try everything.”
well that’s one way to make you horny
so you settled for these sauteed calamari rings with a savory sounding sauce while toji got a steak under the pretense that ‘i need to stock up on protein after fights.’
while the both of you eat, good conversation comes up and the previous tense awkwardness of the both of you goes away.
“i haven’t dated anyone since my sophomore year of college,” you say while taking a sip of wine to wash down a bite of calamari
toji quirks up a brow in disbelief at your statement while he takes a sip of his water, a scowl almost, as if he’s offended for you, “what about that emo lookin kid—“
you tilt your head in confusion, not being able to pinpoint who he’s talking about, “emo?”
toji rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers at himself, “that kid, can’t even remember his name, with the blue hair, you know–“
“grimmjow?!” you gape, eyebrows knit
“yea that fucker,” toji nods before he takes a bite of his steak
“I never even got to have a thing with grimmjow,” you deadpan, swiveling the glass of wine in your hand, “we kissed like once and then he told me he wasn’t ready for anything the next day.”
“silver spoon made it seem like you guys fucked.”
you sigh in agonizing pain that your white haired freak best friend loves to say you fuck frequently, “satoru says that because he feels my dry spell more than me. horny ass. he wishes i could get laid.”
“what,” toji snickers, “haven’t fucked in a year or something?”
this was going to be a pain
“three years,” you clarify, staring at him with bored eyes because you know you’re going to get a reaction because of this, “with my ex was the last time. and i lost it to him.”
toji eyebrows immediately raise and he looks at you like you’re insane, “you’re lying.”
“don’t you think id rather say i just got laid two weeks ago or something?” you quizically ask him
“well yeah,” he scoffs, “but i'd rather you not at that point.”
you knowingly squint your eyes at him, jabbing a fork of calamari, “why’s that?”
and you laugh when toji drops his napkin back onto his lap very done with you and blankly stares you down.
“how long have you liked me anyway,” you continue, hoping and praying on the small chance that toji pined for you as much you did for him so that you didn’t feel as pathetic
he stays quiet for a bit, as if he didn’t hear you, and you feel embarrassed that you’re about to repeat himself until he looks up from his meal and says, “ever since business boy posted a picture of you before i got the chance to meet all of you.”
hoping and praying did you well
you had to physically stop yourself from giggling like a schoolgirl by holding your hands in fists under the table, “and..why did you never make a move?”
“i thought you had a crush on sukuna for a good four months,” he shrugged and if you were seeing right, there was a pink hue dusting the tips of his ears, “after i figured out you didn’t, i pussied out because i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
then his eyes fixated on you, “what about you huh?”
you felt yourself growing small in your seat, beginning to play with the ends of your dress, “well, when we met and you told lent me your jacket because my cardigan was thin…”
“both of us have been idiots this entire year huh,” toji joked, laughing at himself and you
“yeah,” you meekly agreed, taking a woeful gulp of wine until you came to a realization, “wait, is that why sukuna thought you didn’t like him for the first few months of knowing him?!”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” the fighter grunted, looking to the side as he drank another gulp of water
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by the time your date with toji ended you were as happy as could be, having felt fulfilled that yes you were on a date with your long time crush, but that you were also very compatible and had amazing chemistry. you kissed briefly, outside the restaurant when your heel got caught on a pebble and he held you upright so as to stop you from falling. you pulled him in for it to thank him and he held onto your waist so fucking well, the fact that his hand was almost the same size as your back was dizzying. 
he had asked for another date the following afternoon for brunch with him and you couldn’t deny, wanting to spend more time with him. you were telling satoru this on the phone before he said…
“so when are you guys getting it on?”
if you could, you’d throw something at him through the phone right now.
“you are such a pervert!”
“i am not,” satoru defends, “okay maybe a little, ha. but in all honesty when are you two going to rip off the bandaid? it’s not like you’re strangers and you have to do that awkward period of oh im respecting your space crap. oh my god, does he know you’ve never gotten head?”
your cheeks flush hot, “no.”
“this is hilarious,” satoru jeers, “try to last longer than two seconds when he eats it.”
you sprawl across your bed and almost scream, “stop, because im going to be really embarrassed if that happens!”
“i think it’d be a miracle if it didn’t happen,” you can hear the millionaire open another candy wrapper before stuffing the sweet into his mouth, “so when are you sealing the deal?”
“when even is the appropriate time?” you gaze at your ceiling, feeling hot all over your body and embarrassed that you’re talking to your friend about having sex with one of your other friends
“personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.”
“you think?”
“he looks at your boobs when you aren’t looking.”
“what?! why didnt you tell me this before?” you sit upright in your bed
“him wanting to fuck you is obvious, i just didn’t know if he liked you, so i kept it to myself.”
“unfair,” you huff, falling back into your comforter, staring at the ceiling in silence until you felt your phone beginning to vibrate
pending call - toji
“toru, ill catch up with you some other time, toji’s calling me,” you usher out and immediately accept the incoming call before the snow haired devil can say something cheesy.
“hi,” you breathe out
“hey,” toji’s gruff voice responds through the small speaker, “how are you feelin?”
“about the food or you?” you tease
“both.”
“wish i could’ve eaten some of that peach cobbler the couple next to us ordered,” you fluff up a pillow behind you, wondering if you should go forward with a thought before you think fuck it, and say, “wish i could’ve kissed you more.”
“i can get you both angel.”
“what are you doing?”
“just put some patches on my back, ‘s sore,” theres a moment of silence before he quips, “was thinking about you.”
“me too,” you sigh, hoping he can’t hear how dreamy you unintentionally sounded
“what about me?” you can hear the smirk in his voice
and you indulge him a little, just to fuck with him, “how big your hands are.”
“you like ‘em?”
“mhm, they looked nice with the bruises on them too.”
“ ‘s that why you kept holding onto them?”
“maybe,” you watch as you kick your feet up in the air, finding something to exert your energy 
“yours are soft,” he breathes, “i like it.”
“you know what else is soft?”
“what?” you can hear his energy shift
“my hair, i use really good conditioner and product.”
“fuckin tease.”
you turned around in your bed to hold your head in one of your hands, “what ever do you mean by that toji?”
“you always pull shit like this and you know it. you made me think i forgot your birthday last week.”
you laugh at his offense, noting that you did get a good scare out of him last week when you pretended he said your birthday wrong, “okay that was a one time thing though.”
“and then you told me the chinese restaurant i sent you to had shitty lomein.”
he had recommened the restaurant to you last month based on the premise that the lomein was good as hell and that you’d like it. you didn’t think he’d fall for it, but you told him it was crap just to fuck with him and he couldn’t function for a minute. 
“okay okay maybe i do pull shit like that every once in a while,” you digress
“every once in a while…” the scowl on toji’s face is quite loud when he responds
“every once in a while,” you punctuate with a sing songy voice
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after your brunch date with toji the following day, he took you vase shopping because when he showed up at your place to pick you up he had another very large bouquet of flowers in his hands for you. and unfortunately, you couldn’t even fit all the flowers from the night before into the three vases you had. 
he took you to a high end home furniture store that you were pretty sure millionaires only shopped in, your theory being proven when a rug you passed by was the exact same one satoru kept in his apartment and shamelessly replaced when shoko got red wine on it. 
“woah,” you say when you get to the vase section, “this is way different than the ones at ikea.”
“see anything you like?” toji moves to stand next to you while you take in the vast number of beautiful vases in front of you
and at first you think you have nothing to say, unable to pick from all the beauties in splayed out for you, until your eyes spot a pretty almost seashell shaped vase, with defining ridges, colored gold, it was beautiful and you wouldn’t mind a number of those decorating your apartment. 
“i like this one,” you murmur as you walk up to it, noticing the slight iridescent shimmers on it
you can see toji raise his hand and make some sort of mannerism towards someone, you assume a worker, out of the corner of your eye after you say that. 
which led to the predicament of accompanying toji into your apartment numerous times as he carried the multiple boxes carrying the same vase into your apartment. you weren’t allowed to, he had demanded. he even eyed you threatningly when you made to pick up your own box to take with him. 
by the time he had brought in the last box you were very antsy, trying to find something to do in return for him like offer a water or food, or what fucking ever, just anything in exchange for his buying you multiple luxury vases and carrying them into your apartment. 
“i did that shit because i like you and i think you deserve it,” toji huffed, eyeing you pointedly while he accepted the glass of water you had offered him, “don’t get all weird.”
“okay…” you nervously looked to the side as you traced invisible lines across your kitchen island, “at least sit for a while before we have to unpack them and put the flowers in them. please?”
the tall and buff fighter let your small and nimble hands drag him to your couch by the arm and then guide him to sit on it, with you following after.
“I was watching grey’s anatomy before you came over,” you start, looking at him earnestly, “do you wanna watch some with me?”
toji set the glass of water on your coffee table then splayed his arm behind you on the couch and nodded, “go for it.”
“okay,” you smiled lightly then, much to his obvious surprise, crawled over him and reached for the remote next to him, tucked into the corner of the couch just a little, then went back to your original spot next to him.
your eyes were focused on opening netflix when he spoke, “is that the uh–the show with the doctors and crap?”
you pressed play when you set the remote off to the side and leaned more into his space, “yeah! it’s a little cheesy, but it’s fun to watch, at least before a certain season. after that it just goes downhill.”
“alright,” the ravenette said, leaning closer to your space too
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“glow in the dark,” toji exhales a light laugh at the mention of glow in the dark condoms
“ever tried those?” you look up at him from where you’re tucked underneath his arm, hand splayed across his chest and abdomen area
“never knew they were a thing,” he smirks, “you?”
“i don’t even know what head’s like,” you roll your eyes, “as if i would’ve gotten to the exploration stage of fucking.”
you can see toji visibly stiffen at your comment
“what?”
“there’s no way in hell that fucker didn’t eat you out,” he’s sat up straighter now, eyes pining you under his gaze
“well there is a way in hell,” you move your hands as if to gesture ‘it is what it is’, “he didn’t like the taste.”
“what, he got a wonder dick or something?” he looked annoyed, “that do the job?”
“i did not ever orgasm, so no,” you laugh, finding it funny how pissed he’s getting on your part, “why are you so pissy for me zenin?”
he gives you one glance before looking forward at the tv to avoid your gaze, sighing a little, “it’s stupid, is all.”
“me not getting head?” you’re still staring at him even though he’s watching george and alex bicker on the tv
“yeah,” he nods
and satoru’s words play through your mind again, ‘personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.’
but you shake the thought away before you start something stupid and reassume your cuddling position next to toji, watching as it gets revealed that the neurosurgeon lover has a wife already. the previous piece of information making toji uncharacteristically scrunch his nose and look as if he wants to spit at the screen. 
“what,” he looks at you, eyes waiting in earnest for the next episode, “that the end? start the next one.”
“are you sure,” you giggle at his sudden interest in the soap opera.
toji sinks into his spot on the couch, bringing you closer to him with a hand on the skin just above your knee, “yeah, play it.”
while you take the remote to start the new season, you laugh, then place it down before leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on the fighter’s lips, “you’re cute.”
he gives you a bored look, obvious in expressing that cute is not something he wants to be described as, but you can also feel the grip he has on you twitch for a second. 
“what?” you smile, “can i not call you cute?”
“can’t you find something better?” he says, trying not to roll his eyes
“not when you’re acting cute,” you sit up a little and grab his face to place a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, which scrunches up cutely at the action. you can see toji try to chase your lips just the slightest when he sees your mouth fall away from his nose and wander so close to his mouth. you use the observation to tease him, making it look as if the next destination was his lips until you go further down and land a peck on his chin. 
toji’s had enough of it, it seems, when he swoops a hand under your jaw and near your neck and guides you to his own mouth. he's soft about it, simply trying to taste your lips and memorize the feeling of your lips on his, until–you dont know who–one of you takes a sensual turn and makes it much more intense than need be. although unable to find the culprit of before, you can say that toji’s first in sliding his tongue into your mouth moments after. he does it slowly, flicking the muscle to tease at your own before retreating, as if waiting for yours to give the same response and you do, shyly dipping yours in to lick across his tongue. almost like he lured you in, he intertwines his muscle with yours upon the interaction and you can’t help the small high pitched moan that escapes you. 
on some sort of instinct, toji uses the hand on your knee to hook it under his grasp and guide you to his lap, planting you thigh to thigh on top of him. your hands, having forgotten what to do in these situations, awkwardly place themselves on his chest, shakily feeling the hardness of his chest underneath them. he grabs onto one of them, caressing the skin of it, while his other hand finds comfort in your waist. 
a second moan makes it way out of your throat and toji’s hips buckle up subconsciously, which makes you gasp into his searing kisses. the action has you noting that he’s hard underneath you and the exact size of him is a curiosity to you, the thought making you reach a hand down to hold him. 
he’s big, an ‘it’s going to hurt’ kind of big. 
“don’t…” he grunts out, letting go of the hand holding onto his chest and reaching down to take off the one holding his length, “touch unless you’re ready.”
“i’m ready,” you shift your hips atop of him and being forced to look at him when he pulls away from the kiss, lips pink and splotched and his pupils blown out.
“I can wait,” he says, trying to control his breathing, the expanse of his chest rising and falling so controlled even though the look in his eyes says otherwise, “don’t worry about me, if that’s it.”
“well I can’t,” you tug at one of the buttons of his shirt for emphasis, then guide one of his hands underneath your skin and near your inner thighs, “feel me.”
slowly and hesitantly, toji moves his hand onto your panties and runs a finger across the excessively damp wet spot of them.
“fuckin tease,” he groans at the touch, sliding his finger across again and again, earning mewl after mewl from you
“do you want me?” you shyly pant as you hold onto his free arm, fighting the need to put your head in his shoulders
“yeah, i fucking want you,” toji growls as he pushes you onto his chest by a hand on your back
he maintains eye contact with you when his hand pushes your panties out of the way and immediately slips a finger into your heat. the pressure of his gaze turns feral when your eyebrows knit and a loud moan leaves your lips.
for some reason, trying to excuse the loud reactions he’s about to get from you, you heave, worried, “i—i haven’t done this in a long time and–oh mmmm–i won’t be able to help myself.”
“think i care?” he huffs, concentrating on you when he slips a second finger inside and curls them both curiously to find your spot, which he does, smirking a little when your hold on him grows tighter and your hips wiggle at the pleasure, “scream all you want princess.”
he starts jutting in his fingers quickly in and out of you after the words leave his mouth, and the stretch is so good, so unlike your small hands that haven’t been able to do crap for years, that you start squealing and hug toji in by the back of his neck and shoulders.
“there you go, there you go baby,” he coos, smiling a little at the cute sounds you’re making and relishing in the squelch of your pussy while his fingers abuse it. 
“wait–wait–” you heave, beginning to push him away, even though the advance is useless due to his iron grip and try to explain an embarrassing admission so as to warn him, “i feel like im gonna–”
he gives you no chance to finish your sentence when he punches in a third finger and makes you nearly scream.
“what?” he breathes, lusty eyes boring into your own, “you gonna cum?”
“no–”you shake your head, trying your best to still relay your message even though you can feel your orgasm taking its final steps near, “well yeah–but–but–”
your stomach starts dropping and toji picks up his pace so brashly that you release almost instantaneously all over him. your legs twitch uncontrollably and you bury your face into his neck while squealing through the feeling.
“shit.” he utters, still fingering you through it, “fuck, fuck.”
“i squirt,” you almost cry, embarrassed and shaken up by your orgasm, unable to look at him, “i’m sorry, i tried to tell–”
“shut up,” toji spanks your pussy and doesn’t care when you yelp as he throws you with your back on the couch and starts to tug your panties off, “you’re gonna do it again.”
submitting to him, you shimmy out of your dress nervously while he hastily undoes the buttons of his dress shirt. the burly fighter drags you, so your legs dangle off the couch before he kneels down and places his hands underneath your thighs to spread you out for him
“look at me when i eat you,” toji pinches your clit to get your full attention on his face, “don’t close your eyes or look at the ceiling, none of that shit. got that?”
you nod your head impishly, hesitantly putting a hand on your stomach, itching to hold onto his face or his hair. 
his eyes drift to your sex and you can see a hint of irritation paint itself across his features when he mutters under his breath, “didn’t like the taste my ass.”
within milliseconds, toji saves no mercy and starts to eat you out like a man starved. his mouth is hot and wet, and you don’t know where the mess is coming from, his lips or yours. the man spits onto your pussy and so sloppily makes out with your sticky heat, interchanging between that and sucking so harsly against your clit. 
your legs are twitching so wildly and the only thing keeping you from scrambling away is toji’s hands that are now wrapped around your thighs to keep you pressed against him. 
you’re basically screaming now, in utter bliss from the heavenly feeling, unable to speak. 
his eyes keep looking up to bore into yours all while he aggressively kisses your pussy. it has your breath picking up rapidly and goosebumps rising all across your skin. his tongue laps across your lips so foreign yet so deliciously that you can’t help the increasing reach of your orgasm.
“I'm close!” you squeal after a particular suck of your clit, thinking that he needs to heed to the warning because you’re so sure you’re about to squirt on his face
all toji does in response is growl and let go of one of your thighs to start fingering you with two digits rapidly.
he stares you down while you struggle to keep the eye contact, your whole body beginning to twitch uncontrollably and your vision starting to see white until the invisible cord snaps and you feel an immense relief wash over you–and him.
the juices seeping from you seem to spur him on and he doesn’t move in any sort of way to avoid them, instead choosing to lap at them and drink it in all while making growls and groans of satisfaction. 
he’s still going at it when you come to, and you start shuffling away–well try to–from him, yelping, “it’s sensitive toji!”
he seemingly listens to you after a few seconds, running his tongue flat against your folds before he lifts his face from you. the entire lower half of his face is covered in your juices and his spit and he looks outright animalistic as he looks back at you. 
he gets up and stalks towards you until he’s on top of your body and dives down to kiss you aggressively, making you taste yourself in the process. it’s so erotic, it has your pussy fluttering all over again. 
“fuck,” he groans deeply into your mouth, “you don’t have any condoms right doll?”
you shake your head a little, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and offer something else, “i’m on the pill…so i don’t really mind…”
you can feel his breath hitch and you’re quick to add, “but! if you’re not comfortable without one–”
“you fine with me blowing a load in you?” he mutters and seizes the chance to nip at your bottom lip
“i wanna feel it,” you admit, glad he’s still kissing you so he doesn’t see the flustered look on your face.
“dirty fucking angel,” he says heavily against your mouth before he gets up to undo his belt buckle and push both his pants and briefs in one motion.
he doesn’t even really spring up free like you expected him to. his dick is so hung that well, it hangs. the size looks bigger than what you predicted already when you touched it earlier. your ex, the only person you’ve had sex with, was the stark opposite of this, easy to fiddle with and well below average. the difference of having toji’s thick length right in front of you now had you clenching around nothing. 
“you like it?” toji smirks at you while he goes up to you again and moves you so that you’re completely laying across the couch before he climbs up on top of you between your legs.
“mhm,” you nod, looking down and hoping his tip can at least graze your folds while it bobs down near your inner thigh and that’s when you get an idea.
“can we–” you almost hesitate, “can we do a mating press?”
“was planning on it,” he says gruffly when he leans forward and pins your legs next to your head. 
you giggle at the words and he smiles down at you, a moment of innocence before the both of you look down and he’s using one hand to guide his tip into you.
the pop of his tip inside of you is overwhelming. you feel like you’re going to push him out in a single clench with how girthy he is. and you think the previous two, very wet, orgasms are what lets him slide into you, even though it stings. 
“shit’s fucking tight,” toji groans, both hands back to your legs while he and you watch him pull out nearly all the way and sink back in.
“ ‘s so big,” you huff, feeling like he’s outright in your stomach, “feel so full.”
“bet you do,” he sounds so serious when he says it, still entranced when he starts to pound in and out of you at an average pace that, although it’s not fast, still has you starting to feel tears brim near your waterline
the man above you starts groaning in sync with your moans and whines, shuddering a little everytime you clench and suck him in
“beautiful,” toji groans under his breath and you can feel his pace start to pick up a bit, “getting fucked on a huge cock, little princess slut. tiny fucking hole’s begging for help.”
the mean words mixed with his praise has you feeling epically embarrassed yet turned on all at the same time and all you can do is moan in response 
“you like getting called a slut?” he presses himself against you, almost chest to chest, smirking evilly while he raggedly breathes, “or princess? or you like me talking about splitting your pussy open?”
“all…of it,” you gasp through two punctual thrusts of his, he’s hit your cervix multiple times but the pleasure is so overwhelming, you’re starting to enjoy it
toji snickers a little, opening your legs a bit further to expose more of your torso, your tits being part of it and his intention, you realize when he goes down to pop one of your nipples into his mouth. he swirls the bud around his mouth and bites at it with his teeth while he starts to jackhammer into you, making sure each thrust is deep.
his balls start making a pap–pap sound everytime he thrusts back in, accompanying the wet squelch of toji dragging himself inside of you repeatedly.
it’s rough and hard, but more intimate than anything considering the few words being exchanged. the both of you are more concentrated on each other’s presence and reactions because after toji comes back up from your tits, he finds your lips and starts to makeout with you languidly. 
the grip on your thighs grows bruising when you mix tongue into the kissing, coaxing him to do the same too. 
“feel so fucking good,” he hisses when you clench around him uncontrollably, a sign of your incoming orgasm, “pussy’s close isn’t it”
you nod instead of speaking, concentrating on the delicious drag of his veins against your walls and the prodding of his tip at your g-spot
toji leans close to your ear, voice hard and lusty as he starts to mutter sweet and dirty nothings, “such a pretty girl, taking this cock so good.”
he then bites your ear softly, “you gonna milk my cock like a good girl? squeeze my load all out?”
shivering, you nod again and make a whimper in response 
“squirt all over me angel, i know you want to,” toji starts plummeting a bit harder into your sweet spot, finding it again, the action has you looking down at where you’re both connected unable to fathom how large he is and just how he’s making it all fit inside, “look at me.”
one of his hands is gently under your chin now, guiding you to look at him since your eyes had strayed from his own. he’s breathing heavy now and his irises are almost completely gone considering the blown out size of his pupils. 
“cum with me sweetheart,” the hand from your chin snakes its way down to your clit so as to start rubbing harsh circles for you, and you just know you’re about to make a bigger mess than before, “wrap that pretty pussy around me. milk the shit out of this dick. cum’s all yours baby.”
“ ‘s too much,” you whine, breathing ragged, “i don’t think–oh my god!”
you feel the pleasure wash over your entire body and come out all over toji’s lower abdomen accompannied by the profuse hard flutters of your pussy on his cock. you release a combination between a whine and a cry, feeling completely wrecked by the sensation.
toji follows you the moment your release gets all over him, his hips stiling and jerking into you roughly, this time giving hard kisses to your cervix instead of the fleeting small pecks from earlier. his cum feels immense, its warmth you can feel pooling inside you as toji sputters it into you.
“shit! fuck!” he groans, watching himself push it all into you before looking back up and taking you into a passionate kiss
“atta girl,” he utters after swiping his tongue across your teeth, one of his hands coming up to tentatively hold one of your breasts, “that feel good?”
tired, you weakly nod and sigh a weak, “mhm”
he lets go of the one hand holding your thigh up and moves both of your legs so that they wrap around his waist. he hasn’t pulled out yet.
“gonna buy you a new couch,” his lips twitch a little as he looks at the surrounding area near the both of you, “shit’s soaked.”
“toji!” you whine, embarrased, and pull him into you so you can hide your face.
toji doesn’t let you, instead pulling away so he can get a good look at you and grin, “you got spare sheets?”
“yeah?” you furrow your eyebrows, “but what does that have to do with the couch?”
“it doesnt. I’m fucking you on your bed later,” he shifts both of your bodies so that you can sit on top of him now just as he shifts the conversation back to what it was, “we’ll go shopping for the couch tomorrow. make it celebratory gift.”
“for the first time we fucked?”
“nah,” he lands a teasing kiss on your nose, “for your first time.”
you roll your eyes at him, “just because its been three years–”
“don’t care, doesn’t count if you never came with shrimp dick.”
a fit of giggles escapes you as you press yourself up against him for physical support, “yeah okay, it’s my first time gift.” 
then your eyes stray to his very wet clothes on the floor next to yours, “sorry i got your clothes dirty though. I don’t think i have anything for you to wear either.”
toji puts both of his thumbs at the corner of your mouth to make your pout disappear, he snickers at himself for it, “i’ll call my assistant to drop off some clothes here.” 
“how long will that take?”
“long as our shower,” toji huffs as he lifts the both of you up and starts walking to your restroom.
“and how long will that take?” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him and clinging onto his shoulders.
“three more orgasms,” he comments, opening the door and leading the both of you to a very steamy shower. 
“you haven’t even made the call yet!”
“shut up.”
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bountycancelled · 2 months
Text
(un)secret admirer
luke castellan x child of aphrodite!reader
tip me on kofi, if you feel so inclined
requested: nope, I'm just currently obsessing over pjo (aren't we all?) and Charlie bushnell is my pookie so luke is also my pookie (what about all the people he murdered– what murdaaaa?!)
warnings: none I believe!
content: probably ooc luke becusse I haven't read the books, I don't know if demigods even nap, I don't remember the movies and he's barely in the show lol, some cuddling, lowercase intended because fuck grammar, also I know demi gods are dyslexic i just dont gaf because i thought this concept was cute, that's all!
a/n: SEND ME PJO REQS! please. also this is short and I'm sorry, I've been having horrid writers block.
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"I don't get what the big deal is." Lukes voice could be heard from where he sat on your bed, as you gazed at the piece of paper in your hand, pacing back and forth in your room as you analysed its every minute detail to the best of your abilities. "you get letters from the other campers all the time."
"I already told you Luke. this handwriting isn't the same as any other letter I've gotten, so that means it's from someone who's never sent me a note before, and I need to know who it is."
you had recieved a myriad of letters ranging from 'I think you're pretty' to 'I would sacrifice my right arm just to get a hug from you' during your time here at camp. beyond being drop dead gorgeous, you were kind, always wearing a charming smile on your face, and having the ability to comfort people with your presence alone.
that (coupled with the facts that most kids here had some kind of parental baggage and your kindness definitely filled some kind of void) meant that you recieved many a words from not so secret admirers. you were sure that you knew the identities of the people who had given you sealed envelopes and tightly folded papers, but you were currently stumped.
you were startled out of your staring contest with the scribbled ink by the feeling of Lukes arms around your shoulders as he spoke. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, now can you please come back to bed? you know that I can't nap if you're not with me."
you sighed, letting him lead you back to your bed so that he could rest before you two inevitable of the two of you needing to help around the camp occured. you stared up at the ceiling as he slowly started to dose off beside you, before you gasped and shot up, effectively spooking him out of a peaceful moment.
"it's Percy!" you shushed Luke before he had the chance to complain about your sudden exclamation or the fact that you weren't letting him get a wink of midday sleep. "I mean, he's just met me, and one of my friends probably told him some stuff about me–"
"it's not Percy." Luke deadpanned, pushing you down by the shoulder from the upright postpone you were sat in to make you lay back down, and wrapping his arm around your waist. you were shocked into silence, because although Luke was an affectionate friend, he had never cuddled you while he was still awake. he would always wake up and discovering that he had wrapped around you in his sleeping state, apologising sheepishly while retracting his limbs.
after a few moments of stunned silence, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his statement. "and how do you know it's not him, huh?" he simply blew air from his nose, tightening his grip around your waist.
"because it was me, sweetheart."
now that shut you up fairly quickly, as you bit your lip to try to hinder the giddy smile that wanted to form on your features. you opened your mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by Luke placing a small kiss on the back of your neck.
"we'll talk when we wake up, alright?" but you weren't having any of that. "okay... but, before you go to bed. how long have you liked me? is this actually the first letter you've sent? why wouldn't you just tell me, you idiot. obviously I like you too. I know you said some stuff that you like about me in the letter, but I want you to tell me about everything you like about me, like every feature, every trait-"
Luke chuckled, sporting a big grin as you spoke. he would tell you all of that and more, he would do anything you asked of him, just as long as he got to hold you in his arms just like this.
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Note
of course, no problem!! and im sorry my english💓 reader is a very calm and kind person. he never heard her raise her voice, other than speaking normally calmly. oscar or max have never seen her angry, but the reader gets angry at something or someone, things don't go her way and he sees her angry side for the first time.
A Voice To Fear - Max Verstappen
Schumacher!reader (Ralf Schumacher's daughter) x Max Verstappen
Want to put a twist on it using a Schumacher, just bc I want there to kind of be a lot of attention on the relationship for this fic. Hope that's ok, it's what I'm running with.
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Max has always been quite protective over his quiet girlfriend who has always been fairly softly spoken and kept most of her more explicit thoughts to herself. They're even very rarely shared with Max.
The two have known each other for years with Max growing up close to the Schumacher's, he's never seen y/n raise her voice once unless out of excitement in a squeal.
Since their relationship became public, there's been an obsession and with y/n being already has quite the following as a public figure who has pretty amazing fashion and is a bit of an icon to many of the fans. A lot of them even have a crush on her and couple have even been a little too obsessive over her.
The media have hassled her but much like Max, she's not so bothered about answering their intrusive questions or catering to their attempts of provoking her into telling them something that simply isn't true.
"Y/n, Max was wondering when you'd get here." Christian chuckles as the young woman appears in the paddock with a few of the photographers snapping pictures of her. "You know I had more people from Sky asking if I could convince you to become a guest presenter for the broadcast."
Y/n smiles awkward smile says it all and Max laughs from his spot next her while moving to pull her into a light kiss.
"You're beginning to be a woman in high demand, no?" Max jokes earning an eye roll from the young lady. "How was your call with your dad?"
"It was ok. I told him I'd speak to Mick, he's in the Mercedes garage so I'll probably go over in a bit." Y/n sighs while Christian seems to shift over to give the couple time without him.
"Not the enemy." Max jokes earning a grin before she leans forward kissing him again but he frowns when she pulls away. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, just Sky aren't the only ones hassling me." Y/n shrugs with a slightly exhausted expression watching his frown deepen. "It's fine. I just wish people didn't expect me to be part of the sport in that way. I'm dating you because I think you're an amazing guy. Not because you're a F1 driver."
"But it adds to the charm?"
"You're a moron."
Max grins at her before nodding as he gently cups her face.
"But you are ok, right? You'd tell me if things weren't ok." Max questions earning a nod of reassurance from the young woman. "You can tell me, I'll handle it."
Y/n just smiles shaking her head since she is always dismissive of these matters.
-
If there's one thing y/n has no interest in, it's being apart of Drive To Survive. She could handle the Sky representatives trying to talk her into helping present but when a Netflix producer comes along to bother her.
"I'm sorry, I just don't want to be involved in anything like this." Y/n states gesturing to the cameras that are very on her.
Anxiety and annoyance is building rapidly in her chest as they remain insistent on essentially breaking her down till she's pliable into agreement.
"Sweetheart, you would just be the perfect person to add your story-"
Then something...snaps.
"Story? What story? I don't want to be apart of your stupid fucking show that creates false narratives and invades on moments that are just not meant for the fucking cameras. So leave me alone. I said no!"
The fast paced bodies in the paddock have frozen. Not only shocked by the volume of someone in the paddock. But specifically the fact the the volume came from the one of the most quiet and happy people from within the F1 community.
Eyes burn through her and the producer who is too stunned to speak.
"Y/n?" A voice calls making her finally knock from her silent glare at the man before she feels a familiar hand link with her own and a warm buzz shoots hums through her, calming her almost in an instant and somewhat slapping her with the reality of what she said. "Come on."
The paddock slowly moves getting back to their business but the whispers of shock over y/n's voice and words are clearly a new talking point. No doubt they'll be headlines and posts online within the hour about it all.
By the time they get into a private room with no audience, Max looks at her but she just dodges his gaze and bites her lip keeping her eyes anywhere else.
"Y/n-"
"Please. I don't want to talk about it." Y/n sighs them groaning and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, a slight tremble in her hands. "I think I'm just going to go back to the hotel. If that's ok?"
"Can we talk about it later?" Max asks earning a sigh before she nods a little. "Ok, go on. Do you want someone to go with you?"
"No. I'm ok." Y/n murmurs earning a nod as he leans over and kisses her forward.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
-
"Is y/n ok?" One of the reporters asks as Max stands in the media pit after qualifying.
"She's ok. But perhaps people will learn their lesson to leave her alone." Max states not hiding how unimpressed he is about the whole event.
He doesn't waste much time after that and after a very brief debrief, he heads out. He got pole position so it's not exactly as if much needed to be said.
When he gets back to the hotel, he finds y/n looking guilty and frazzled as she lies in the bath.
"You look so beautiful." Max sighs as he sits beside the tub and she turns to look at him. "Are you ok?"
"I don't know what happened to me. I just feel like I have nothing going on." Y/n mutters then rubbing her hands over her face while Max sighs. "I can't believe I shouted. I never shout. I never get angry like that."
"Y/n, you are allowed to get angry and shout when someone upsets you and won't leave you alone." Max frowns before he looks at her for a moment. "Y/n, I am proud of you for saying what needed to be said and they aren't going to bother you again. I think that much is clear from today."
"But I was...that wasn't how I am."
"No one is expecting you to go around viciously shouting unprovoked at everyone you come across now." Max smiles then sighing as she gives him a deadpanned look. "You made it clear you have no intentions to take shit from them. Your name and your relationship doesn't make you obligated to be a puppet for them."
Y/n's lip quivers since really she can always trust Max to understand and to make sure that there's no crime in not wanting a life that put under a microscope. Some people would say she does it to herself because she dresses well and she does date Max. But why is it fair for someone to dictate what she does and doesn't get to do?
"I love you...you always...make it better." Y/n sighs then tilting her head. "Can you get me a towel? I think I'm ready to get out now."
Max smiles, kissing on top of her head as he stands up and moves to pick up a towel as she stands up from the depth of the water. He does look at her for a brief moment, entirely obsessed with seeing her in all her glory.
"Stop staring."
"Will you shout at me if I don't? It wasn't the most unattractive thing to see you like that." Max smirks while holding his hand out to aid her getting out the bath without injury before wrapping the towel around her. "I love you too, every side of you, every volume and every emotion."
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alwaysshallow · 6 months
Text
— gorgeous, part 1
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
You're a vet - and you wouldn't ever think that a big guy with a skull face, kitten on his hands, would be in your clinic. (2,1k)
AO3 version
A/N: I have no self-respect; Poland won in volleyball, SO. your insane man and vet lady is here <3
next part
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The first time you see him? It is a wild one.
You didn't really know how to react when your assistant, Bernie, stormed into your office, telling you that some "big guy with a skull mask" had a kitten that needed an examination. I mean, you were a vet, of course, and you ran your clinic to the 11 P.M. sometimes, but... the skull mask part?
First, you thought she was joking or trying to prank you, like in the past, when she told you that a guy came here with a head of a fish tank came to your clinic. When you thought about this later, it was really dumb that you believed that, but the emotions were too high before; you almost slipped on the floor when you were storming out of your office, to see if:
a) he actually had a fish tank,
b) if he had some fish in it.
The skull mask wasn't a joke, though; Bernie also looked like she saw a ghost or something, and was basically hidden after your figure when you went to the corridor, where patients should wait until it's their turn. Usually there weren't many people, only emergency ones, which happened rarely enough. You usually closed after 7, but today you decided to say a bit... longer. 4 hours longer, but who count that, right? There was no one except indeed a big, huge guy in a skull mask and military uniform; at least you thought it looked like a military uniform, your friend's best friend, Johnny, had one like that. You probably wouldn't even speak to him if he hadn't had in his arms a cat that was meowing sadly, like something hurt him – or, her. You didn't know what it was yet. Guy was scary as hell, and if he wanted to, he probably would've knock you out in just one move, but you walked closer to him – what he was gonna do, hit you with his cat in his hands?
"What happened?" that's the first thing you asked, as you approached the man; and for the first time, your gazes crossed.
His, unreadable, brown, piercing even. You couldn't even get a single thought from them, like it was behind some kind of shield, and it confused you, but interested you in the same time enough to know that this interaction will be seated in your mind for some time right now.
You always liked the mysteries, and he seemed like one.
"I don't know." he simply said, standing; and you could see how much bigger he was; not only in height, but in body, muscles. It was like a doll standing to a WWE fighter, as you watched those silly shows after your work at night. "Found that kitten near a dumpster. Seems like it's hurting, so..." he shrugged.
"Aren't you a talker" you murmured, your head up high, to look at him. "Come on in."
He said nothing; simply followed you, with that kitty on his big hands.
You didn't know his name even, and you were more than willing to help him, or more – to help this cat live without any pain because your heart was aching how pained and scared it was.
As well as your assistant, if you were talking about "being scared" part; she kept glancing at that big man, who put the animal on the special table (as you asked him to). It probably would be you in the past, the scared and with some kind of reserve but now, you were more than amazed with his gentleness to care about things like skull mask or the fact that he would crush you with his finger.
Trying to be as gentle as possible, you started examination; it was a certain routine if it was about strays, and this particular one seemed to be abandoned not so long ago.
Probably nothing was breaking your heart more than this; throwing animals to street instead of trying to get them a new home. You saw too much.
"I'll have to fill a report for animal shelter" you started after a few minutes, as you were trying to localize the cause of pain; it was probably a broken bone, but cat was pretty beaten up too. "And I have to know where it was exactly, if you know the streets around here. Maybe there's more kittens like this."
"Animal shelter?" he asked, and you could just feel how his brown eyes are piercing through your green scrubs.
Intimidating, to say the least, because in addition with his low, gravelly voice, it was something alluring, like you couldn't be indifferent about it. Hell, you didn't even knew the guy, he could be potential axe murderer that stopped in your clinic because he was sad about the cat.
"Yes, I can't take him. Someone has to." you explained.
"Who said I won't?"
As you raised your eyebrow, you looked back at him, in a little shock – positive one, though. Most of the people that were bringing strays weren't eager about giving them home, for multiple reasons, and you didn't judge. It was a good thing that they were bringing them here, but this man...
"So, you will?"
"Mhm."
You smiled under your nose, stroking the little kitten, as you waited for her to calm down, before taking her to an x-ray. Her new owner wasn't really talkative, but the most important thing was that he cared enough to not only bring her here, but to take her home.
It was easy to gain your trust, considering that the skull mask that he had right now wasn't so scary anymore.
"I'm gonna take her to an x-ray. Wait up here, okay?"
Again, no response, just a simple nod.
Was it thing about you two being strangers? He could act reversed only because of this, or he was maybe tired and didn't wanted to talk. Yet, you rolled your eyes to yourself while you were taking an x-ray in a special room.
Weird. Weird, because as the bubbly and talkative person you were here, always talking with owners of animals that were coming to you (or in some cases you were out in a farm or something), you couldn't do that here. I mean, right, he answered your questions, but it was... automatic.
Not leaving a small pole to discussion, and it was irritating at some point, because you wanted to tell him at least half of stories about strays and how it was heartbreaking to find them a proper, loving home. And how you were actually curious if he liked animals before, if he had any.
And yet you were, not able to talk to him in any way that would untie his tongue. If you weren't such a curious woman, you wouldn't give a single fuck, and you would only do your job, but... now, you were more than eager to have a proper conversation with that man.
At least a few words more.
"She broke her leg." you explained after an x-ray, to show him under the special light what were you talking about, when the results came in.
Usually, it wasn't so quick, but it was an emergency.
"It's not as bad as it seems to be, your cat will need a splint and a bandage."
He didn't say anything; just nodded, fucking again, still staring at orange cat that was lying on the table, with your assistant cooing to the animal.
You expected some questions, though. Anything. "Questions?" "Not really" he said, glancing at you.
"It will take a while. You can sit if you want" you pointed at the chair in the corner. "I can stand."
So if he wanted to stand, he will stand, end of story for you – so, naturally, you just started to do your job with the kitty. It was a stray, obviously, so it wasn't an easy job with her writhing under your hands, but you managed, somehow.
"Do you want to register me as her vet?" you looked at him again.
Maybe it could finally be a proper subject of your conversation – not many people thought about that when they were taking under their wings a stray, so you had to offer. Especially when that kitty was just too cute not to ask.
"Will it be different than visiting you from time to time?" he asked, his arms crossing on his chest.
"I mean, yeah. I'm under the phone, basically 24/7, if you have questions, you call me. Vaccines, medicines, everything is under your hand. And since the little one knows me..." you trailed off, focusing more on that construction you worked on.
It seemed almost done.
"Right, we can do that, then" he muttered, coming a little closer to the table, to look at his cat. "I assume you need something? Contacts, I mean."
You chuckled, amused. "Yeah, pretty much. Your phone number, your name, adress."
He frowned at that last mention and sighed, glancing over you again, like he was judging something before he actually will answer you.
Hell, what was that in him?
"Is adress necessary?"
"Not really, no."
You both went silent after this; as you finished, you sat to your computer to add another patient to your folder, where you kept everything in check. Meanwhile, Bernie was still occupied with the cat that was too sleepy to even respond, but the meds were kicking in, so it wasn't a surprise.
Rather, it was good. She needed some kind of rest.
"Name?" you looked at him.
"Simon Harris."
It felt like a lie, what he was telling you – especially his last name, but you didn't say anything about it.
"You have an idea for your cat's name? Or not yet?" you smiled softly.
"Not yet, no. And as for phone number..." he started searching for his phone in his cargo pants.
Took him a while, to go through the pockets, but when he finally managed to give it to you, you could finally save everything – the cat's name was just missing, but he needed to think about it.
You could think of multiple stories of people that came back to your clinic or called you to change the name in your documents, because they wanted something different. Mostly it was because the previous one wasn't a "good fit", but some were... funny ones, or weird enough that you didn't even bother to ask why.
Sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, especially when you asked why does he want his cat to be named "Pussy"; you regretted asking almost immediately, when he sat in the chair right in front of you. He talked for almost twenty minutes of his girlfriend and how he wanted to "give" her the cat with a name like that because it was funny enough.
And because of other things that you'd like to forget.
"Addison Frost. I run this clinic" you said, when he was saving your number in his phone. You could swear that he rolled his eyes, but it wasn't so clear as he wore that damn mask. What it was for anyway?
You wanted to see his face, badly.
"That much I figured" he muttered, his phone going to pocket of his cargo pants right now; he looked back at his cat, and at you again. "Can I buy something for her here? Or... I should go to the store?"
Hell, it was his probably longest sentence to you that day; and that made you smile a bit, when you reached out to the place you kept starter kits for kittens that needed to be taken care of more than the regular ones; you made a couple of them, and that was one of the last ones.
"No need to pay me for this" you said quickly, as he reached for his wallet. "It's... something that I give, just that" you muttered. "You can borrow that transporter too, until you won't buy your own. She needs to rest for the most of the time, and as she's a stray, she'll probably want to wander around your place."
He nodded, deep in thought, as you helped him with putting his cat into this; he was ready to leave, but before that, he dropped 90$ at your desk, leaving without any further explanation. "Hey! That's way too much, I can't take something like that" you left after him, approaching him as he was already putting the transporter into his Jeep. "It's just a simple help, not an operation, or..."
"You helped her" he cut you off, looking straight into your eyes "and that's enough. If that's too much, don't charge me for another visit or so. I won't take it back." he said, getting into his car; still looking at you, he nodded slightly. "Thank you. And, goodnight."
And with that, Simon Harris left you with many thoughts about that evening.
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fyorina · 16 days
Text
ᡣ𐭩 MID DAY NAPS WITH DAZAI!
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: dazai does not nap. he hardly sleeps in general. so how is it that he's dozing off in your lap like this? you're a witch, he's decided. there's no other logical explanation. (wordcount: 800ish; sfw; fem!reader, mentions of alcohol & sleeping pills)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: very short & sweet but i toldddd you guys that i had a dazai nap time drabble in the works. i love my naps, so that means i obviously have to do nap time with all of the favs. perhaps i'll do jouno next. or maybe there's someone u guys want.
Dazai doesn’t sleep well. He never has, and he’s certain he never will. The only time he can manage to get some semblance of sleep is when he’s taken a few too many sleeping pills or he’s drank himself to oblivion. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life, and he thinks that he’d prefer to stay sleepless anyway if it means he can avoid the memories that plague his dreams.
Dazai can simply not remember when the last time he willingly slept was, which is why he’s so confused now, head resting in your lap, eyes heavy as he looks up at you. He can hardly hold them open, he can feel himself falling asleep and he’s alarmed because he does not sleep unless his body is drugged, drunk or dying.
“What kind of spell have you placed on me, bella?” Dazai says through a yawn—he yawned???
“What do you mean?” you ask quietly, fingers still carding gently through his hair as you look down at him, brows furrowed. 
He wants to reach up and rub out the wrinkle between your eyebrows but his arm feels too heavy. A part of him wonders if he’s dying, but he supposes if this is how he’s meant to go out—laying in your lap with your fingers brushing through his hair, staring up at your pretty face beneath the afternoon sun—then he couldn’t ask for a better death.
“‘m falling asleep,” he murmurs, and his voice slurs a bit over the words. His eyes feel even heavier, drooping shut as he tilts his head to the side to make himself comfortable on your lap. 
You giggle lightly, and Dazai swears the sound is angelic. “‘cause you’re so sleepy, obviously,” you say, a teasing lilt to your tone as you bring your freehand to his face to trace his cheekbone.
“I don’t sleep,” he protests weakly, leaning into your touch. 
He thinks that before he met you, he might not have ever experienced a gentle touch in his entire life, and now he simply cannot go without them. He craves them at every waking moment and gets severely distressed when he cannot obtain them. But only if they’re from you—the thought of anyone else touching him the way you do makes his skin crawl. Your touches make him feel vulnerable in a way that’s dangerous, and you’re the only person he trusts enough to see him that way.
“Everyone sleeps, silly,” you disagree softly, and Dazai wants to protest, to tell you how significant this is, but he can’t find the words. His mind feels muddled and hazy as exhaustion creeps through his bones and claws at his chest.
He supposes he doesn’t really need to tell you anyway, you probably already know—you always know somehow. You can always figure out when he’s having one of his bad days, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from everyone. You can always tell when he needs a break from everything, even when he tries to mask it with smiles and jokes. You can always tell when he’s sick of playing the role of a clown to make people overlook all of his faults and darkness, and you’re always there to be an escape for him. 
It used to be scary—he’s never had someone that could pick through all of his masks to see through his emotional state, his real one. A part of him wonders if it’s somehow a secret part of your ability but he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because there’s no explanation for how you can do it whenever he’s laid up in your arms or draped all over you, which is 99% of the time he’s with you.
It used to be scary (emphasis on the past tense) but now, he thinks it might be a bit comforting to know that you’re always there and you know what he needs even when he himself doesn’t know. You’re like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea, a lighthouse shining through the dark. he hasn’t had someone he could genuinely rely on in… a long time, and even then…
Dazai lets out a puff of air, eyes finally sliding shut as he all but melts into you with your hand cupping the side of his face and your thumb caressing his cheek and your nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he might be in heaven—he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, to deserve you, but he’s a selfish bastard at heart and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go. 
The last thing he feels is your lips ghosting his temple before he finally dozes off. He sleeps peacefully for the first time he can remember. 
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eveningepiphany · 9 months
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tease | H.S oneshot
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summary: seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.
warnings: SMUT, oral (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, swearing
a/n: can’t stop thinking about that fucking video? like it’s on loop in my head I can’t. he was so slutty last night it’s illegal. also this isn’t 100% proofread so enjoy I hope it’s okay!
———
Some days at work are harder than others for you.
Today, you knew was going to be rough the second Harry walked out in single-handedly the most revealing outfit he could have. Borderlining absolutely slutty.
And as his tour photographer, that is quite a bold statement to make when you’ve seen every single outfit— and when his top half is often found shirtless up on stage.
But tonight, out backstage when you were prepping your SD cards and ordering your camera lenses, he walked out of his dressing room adorning his stage outfit to show you, and your stomach dropped the sight of him.
It was a new style, something he hadn’t worn before. A cropped, tasseled blue vest, paired with low rise pants that looked like they were clinging onto his hips for dear life.
“Alrighty, what d’ya think?” He asked, doing a little spin to shake the tassels.
Your mouth opened and words struggled to form as your head fogged over from just seeing his body. And the way his ferns were fully out— along with almost all of his other ink on display. Arms, chest and all.
You had sworn this, many times, was just your eye for art. For people like him who made photography electric. But as time and the tour progressed on from its earlier start in 2021, it was getting harder to convince yourself. Because even if you didn’t acknowledge it, there was no way to justify the heat that stirred in your stomach as just admiration.
“Oh— wow— I like the tassels,” you paused, tongue swiping over your lips, “they’ll be really fun in the photos, I’ll try to get some motion blur type shots with them.”
Your hand reached out before your brain even computed what it was doing, grabbing one of the rhinestoned threads at the base of his vest and running down it. Knuckles brushing the side of his chest.
“Excited to see them as always, m’lovely.” He smiles, the pet name making you flush.
“10 minutes till you’re on, H!” Someone called out.
You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he realised he was probably dawdling, and in fact behind on his own schedule.
“Alright!” He confirmed back, then chuckling as he whispered to you, “I still gotta brush m’teeth.”
“Well, cmon let’s go, I’ll see what behind the scene shots I can get.”
And you thought that the time spent with him pre-show would ease your racing mind a little, but now that you’re out on the floor you’re almost jittering.
He looks fucking delectable. And by the sound of the stadium around you, they notice it too.
As he steps out you have to force your camera up to your face, which is something you never have to do? But looking at him through your viewfinder is hardly enough to satiate you.
Especially a little later in the show, when your camera is aimed to the back of him— and he’s squated down to get a drink of water…
His pants slipping so far down his hips that the waistband of his Calvin Kleins are easily visible.
Some girls on barricade behind you are going feral simply at the sight. And you can hardly blame them, because the sight of them makes you a little light headed too. Tonight he’s really not leaving much to the imagination.
You feel obliged to take a photo of it, lens aiming up to him— hearing the girls from behind you as your cameras shutters open to capture the moment. They’re shouting clearly, “Y/N, you get that pic girl!”
Another one yelling from your left, “SHES ONE OF US!”
You laugh at them. The fans are always an amazing part of the show. You leave with an array of adorable bracelets, funny shirts, and always lovely compliments.
You snap a few more photos before someone calls your name again, and you turn. A brunette girl, in an incredible replica of his recent purple and black heart overalls from the recent Wembley show, is standing.
“Y/N!” She reaffirms when you’re looking at her.
“Hi lovely, your outfit is amazing.” You smile, and she has fresh tears streaming down her face— a common love on tour occurrence.
“Ohmygod, thank you so much. I made you this tshirt, i wanted to give it to you!” She pulled a white shirt from her feet, presumably from a bag.
She held it out, unfolding it to show off the print on the front.
You immediately couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh at it. A big pink shaded heart, with 2 also heart-shaped photos on each side of it— of you and Harry. But the best bit was the bubble written font, “my favourite parents!” that is above it.
“I— can I please take a photo of you with it first.”
She slaps a hand over her mouth, “No way, of course you fucking can.”
You take a few photos of her posing with the shirt, “I have 2, please feel free take them both!”
You can only assume one of them is intended for Harry. And even if it’s a little weird of you to take them, you do anyway because the girl was too lovely to even consider denying them.
“Thank you so much.” You chuckle as you hang them over your elbow. She still looks starstruck at the interaction that just occurred and you’re overly excited to edit the photos later on.
In the time of the short interaction, you turned to find Harry. He’s about to transition into she, and is over on the main stage.
You hustle to get yourself up from the floor and onto the stage area. Moving to chuck the shirts on the bench, where most of the bands essentials are for easy access.
Harry sees you over there and you decide to show him the design on the front before you can overthink it.
He’s beginning to sing the intro, and he chuckles the lyrics into the mic as he sees it. And fans around the whole arena scream at the shirt— which you didn’t realise was being displayed on the big screens.
You shake your head, struggling not to admire the tone of his laugh that just echoed around the stadium.
Also blushing a little at the fact you did genuinely just show him a shirt with both of your faces of it, deeming you both as a fans ‘parents’.
You go back to doing your actual job, moving to get a good angle, aiming to blend back into the background as you take more photos for the night.
Capturing the sway and jolts of his tassels as he sings. Getting a few shots that not only capture his energy but also his outfit perfectly.
You smile at yourself and at your work.
And you glance up as Harry joins in with Mitch while he absolutely shreds his guitar solo.
Sweat is beading on Harry’s chest and you’re all too aware how much money people would pay to see it from your angle. Thank god for Barcelona’s heat.
And, fuck, not only is it that. His arms look perfect as well. This outfit is really just showing as much of himself off as possible.
You change the settings on your camera hastily to alter the outcome of these next few shots.
He’d stepped away from the mic, turning to look at the band, mouthing something you couldn’t decipher.
He starts to lean down head getting closer to guitar. His tongue juts out…
Your eyes immediately pull back a little from your camera because, there no fucking way he’s about to let some kind of intrusive thought win here.
Time seems to slow. But not the movement of his tongue. It’s flicking fast, as if to mimic it playing the strings of his guitar. Or something like that anyway, because all you can think of is… well… something too inappropriate to even be entertaining in your head given he’s literally your boss.
You can hear the piercing screams around you, someone in the front shouting what the fuck loud enough you swear someone in the back of the stadium could’ve heard it.
You’re not even aware you bought your camera back up to your face and that you’d clicked the button a few times until it’s done and the moments over.
Harry’s laughing at himself, and Sarah is face palming at his lewd action. His smug smile after solidifies the fact he knows what the fuck he just did. And exactly the kind of effect it’s left on some people.
Just not aware you’re one of them…
Because you can’t deny the way you spent rest of the night with a nagging warmth between your legs. One that festered long after the moment was over.
After the show came to a close and you eventually ended up in your hotel room, freshly showered as you edited some of your favourite photos. Including the shots you’d captured of him and his guitar.
Which were fucking insane. You had just the right amount of contrast going on in them, and a certain degree of motion blur that indicated the movement his tongue was making.
The final product was amazing once you had edited it on photoshop. But you spent the remainder of the night in your hotel room ridiculously worked up. Left in bed toying with your clit lazily as you stared at the celling, acting like you didn’t have a specific person in your thoughts.
It got to the point in the next day where you stressed about what photos to show him. And whether or not that included the one you literally came to the thought of last night?
Usually you wouldn’t hesitate, especially since it looked incredible. But you were embarrassed internally. What would he think, or say? And could you even play off your sheer attraction to the image.
You placed your head in your hands with a groan, sat in the chair over by the window. You’re tired, and swear on your life your decision making is going to be impaired when he walks into your room.
Which you didn’t have much more time to stress much about it as a knock came to your door that you knew was him.
You rushed over to open it, finding him standing there, hair freshly washed and clad in much more clothing then you last saw him in. A plain white shirt and some gym shorts— that still made him look hot as fuck, without even trying?
He greets you with a good morning, voice a tad hoarse from last nights show. And he’s smiling as he hands you a cup, one you know is filled with hot chocolate. Just for you.
“I owe you like 100 hot chocolates for how many you’ve bought me just in this leg of the tour alone.” You laugh, letting him past you.
He glances at the unmade bed— you stopped making it a while after he started to come visit your room the morning after the show to pick which photos he liked best, and ones he also wanted edited. Sometimes he’d settle himself on it, legs crossed like a cute little kid.
“Think of it as a gift for all your talent. And putting up with me.” He chuckles, and plops himself down on the chair that’s opposite to the one you were sitting in.
So you follow suit, walking back over the your chair. Taking a small sip of the sweet liquid in your hands.
“Have any favourites so far?” He asks, taking a quick swig of his own drink— which you can only assume is hot tea.
Yes, you think, the one where you’re about to practically fuck your guitar strings with your tongue.
You substitute that for, “A few! The tassels were so fun to try and capture.”
You rotated the laptop screen to show him a cool shot you edited of him. It was a front on photo, his arms extended and washboard abs in their full fucking glory along with his tattoos.
He nods, a smile coming across his lips, crinkling the corners of his slightly tired eyes.
You showcase him a couple, all that he gives relentless praise on— regardless of if they had been edited or not. But you just want to show him your favourite.
You swallow as you stare at it on the screen of your macbook. Working up the courage to turn the screen to him as he waits cluelessly. Does he even know you took this?
“This one too…” you hesitate a little as you swivel the laptop around on your lap.
“Oh. I like this one a lot.” He says, nodding and then glancing up from the screen to your semi-flushed face.
“Didn’t know you took that.” He chuckles, shrugging and almost seeming… like he has more to say about this situation.
Like something is laying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.
You think he’s not going to though, after a beat of silence, you nod.
“Yea… what actually are you doing in this photo?” You nervous laugh, and wonder what kind of answer he’s going to provide.
He runs a hand through his curls, brows raised a little at your question.
“What did you think I was doing?” He quizzes, the corner of his mouth turning up.
“I- well it looked quite… everyone in the audience was going wild. Were you trying to be a tease?”
“I wasn’t! I swear. I was playing the guitar.” He confirmed, yet smirking like he knew there was a two-way perception of the event.
“With your tongue?” You sighed out a laugh.
“You still didn’t answer me. What did you think I was doing?” He backtracks, eyes watching you intensely as you’re both entering some rather dangerous, untouched territory.
You’re quiet again, and he raises his brows still expecting a response.
You flush under his gaze, hand coming to cover your eyes. “It just looked very…”
“Very…?”
“Inappropriate.” You laughed, feeling like you were emotionally torturing yourself by letting this situation happen.
“How so?” He continues to push, wanting to hear more. Secretly adoring the way you get all flustered about it. How badly he wants you to tell him exactly what the movement of his tongue reminded you of.
“It just— you know what I mean, Harry!” You say, now being the one trying to backtrack out of this entire situation. That in the end is still technically your own fault.
You distract yourself with other photos, going in and trying to find another possible contender for his new post on instagram.
“Don’t try and avoid the conversation, love.” He chuckles at your sudden shy demeanour.
“Harry.” You place your hand over your face again trying to mentally reset yourself. Put your thinking back in line.
“Cmon! I’m just curious.” He tries to brush it off, but if he has to resort to begging, he honestly wouldn’t hesitate.
“I know you are, but— it’s weird!” You whine, wanting to die at the fact you had let this happen in the first place.
“I promise I won’t judge.” He places his hand over his heart, face serious, like he was swearing it on his bloodline.
You thought about it a little longer. He clearly was not going to leave you alone if he didn’t get an answer. You could try and lie, but he already knows anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.
“You know, Harry. You just want to hear me say it.” You murmur, bringing up the chocolaty drink to your lips to distract yourself.
“Sure, maybe I do. I wanna confirm my suspicions.” He proposes, a small shrug of his shoulders. You place the drink back on the coaster, staring at him. Eventually caving.
“It— everyone definitely thought it looked like you were, uh, giving oral.” You rushed out, trying to now act as nonchalant as possible to avoid further questioning.
I didn’t work.
“So everyone including you?” He asked.
“Well… yea.” Your cheeks were pink, and he smiled at your flustered voice.
“Dirty thing.” He chuckled, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief thinking maybe you could move on and pretend as if this never happened, but he continues on.
“Had you a little worked up, did I?”
“May I touch on how unprofessional this conversation is?” You bring up, trying to save yourself. But it’s evident in your voice you hardly mean it. You are admittedly a little curious as to where he’s going with this. Equally, if not more embarrassed than anything, but still curious.
“I suppose you can, yes.” He nods.
“But may I bring up how you undressing me with your eyes yesterday was unprofessional? Because unless I’m insane, you definitely were.” He’s cocky, and overconfident with his accusation.
Not that it can be really labelled as an accusation, given he’s not wrong at all.
“I—“ you swallow, “Okay. Whatever. Point proven.”
He laughs at your surrender, shuffling forward on the chair.
“So you were— that’s the kind of stuff you were thinking about me?” He rests his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.
“You are really trying to get something out of me aren’t you? What do you want to hear me say?” You raise your brows, adrenaline coursing through you.
“Just want you to tell me the truth. Be honest with me, since we’re talking about being professional. I think that’s a good start.” He sounds so gentle yet firm, and your devouring this dominant kind of trait he’s showing you.
“Communication and honesty is very important when it comes to professionalism.”
Pleasure has been simmering in your stomach since he walked through the door, and his persistence is beginning to pay off, since you’re starting to let your guard down.
“So you want me to tell you how wet I got after your little stunt last night? That if I wasn’t your employee, after the show you would have found me in your dressing room bent over on the table.”
“Waiting for you to come in there, all sweaty and ready to strip that teeny fucking vest off, and put your mouth to use.”
He’s got a dusting of red over his own cheeks now, blood rushing to his cock as he realised he cracked you open now. Your dirty words spilling out of your mouth after holding back seemingly since last night.
“That what you would’ve done? Bent yourself over my dressing room table waiting for me like a pretty little post-show gift?”
“Maybe so.” You feed into it, watching as his eyes darken with desire.
He sighs out, standing up promptly, “Alright, darling. I’m gonna offer you something. You don’t have to agree, but if you do we can stop at any time. Okay?”
“What exactly are you offering?” You ask as leans his tall frame down to you, hands bracketed on your hips.
“For me to pick you up, put you on that bed and strip you until I can bury my head between your legs.” He stated, matter of factly.
Your thighs are shaking so hard you’re clenching them together— clit throbbing at the pressure.
You can only look up at him and nod, to which he doesn’t take as an answer.
“Baby, need you to use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Yes, Harry. Want that please.” You whine, very quickly becoming delusional at his close proximity.
He grunts as he picks you up, his arms firm around your body and he carry’s you the few feet to the bed. His lips hot as they suddenly come in contact with your jaw.
He pushes your legs open with his thigh, making you moan and push your hips forward.
“Needy girl.” He whispers, voice dirty and hot near your ear as he sucks on the skin below it.
His hands cascade down your body, finding the waistband of your sweatpants and tugging it down.
“Please, please touch me.” You’re wild, bucking your hips up. Wanting to get his tongue on you so bad.
He chuckles at your sudden spiral, how quickly you’ve unravelled before him. Truly like a present, all laid out waiting just for him.
He palms his hand over your damp front, “Soaking through already, fuckin’ hell.”
You groan as he rubs a pressured circle on your fabric-covered clit.
“Want to tell me who got you so wet?” He coos, slowly moving his fingers over you as he waits for an answer.
You give it to him shamelessly, “You. Want you so badly.”
He’s over the moon to finally have you like this. Because it became apparent rather quickly the crush he’d developed on you since you were hired. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist at the thought of getting to touch you.
“Oh, you’re being so good for me now. Because I’ve got my hand between your pretty legs I bet.”
You cant even respond as he slides your drenched underwear down away from your tingling core.
He audibly groans at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. Watching as you squirm under his stare.
“Jesus fuck, Y/N. How long have you been hiding this gorgeous cunt from me?”
“Too long.” You whimper.
His fingers slid through you, and he gathered up your arousal to play with your clit. Relishing the way it slides under his fingertips.
You were clenching around nothing as he gently rolled your clit between calloused fingers. Playing with it until you were a mess. Moaning and grinding up against his fingers. Begging for what he’d promised earlier.
“Your mouth, Harry. Need it. Anywhere.”
“S’that why your little hole is clenching so hard? Like it’s begging for me.” He watched, mesmerised as your hole pulsed around nothing, and leaked more clear arousal.
You look so delicious to him. And he took a moment to appreciate the fact you were about to let him clean up all that arousal pooling at your hole
He sunk down between your legs very slowly. Distracting himself a few times with mouthing over your fabric covered breasts.
Eventually making it there, so he could blow over your clit, letting you squirm at the teasing stimulation. You smelt amazing too, your sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.
He was grabbing at his cock, pushing at it trying to relieve pressure down there as he peppered kisses along your inner thigh.
“Stop teasing, H. Please I— fuck.” You hissed as he bit the seam of skin of your thigh.
“Cant handle it huh? Are you gonna come before I even get my tongue on you.”
“Want to finish around your mouth.” You plead with him. And he shakes his head with a laugh, anticipating your reaction as he leans forward to drag a long stroke through your slit.
Your whole body shakes with a moan. His velvety, hot tongue immediately leaving you a wreck.
“Harryyy…” You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.
“Gonna ruin your cunt, darling.” He murmurs into you, and you know it’s true with the way your hole is clenching.
He sucks your clit into his mouth before placing fast strokes over it. Flicking and rolling it between his tongue and lips.
The sounds of him lapping up your pussy are echoing through the room, further fuelling the fire that’s started in you.
Your whole jaw goes lax as he moves further down, gliding over your hole— pushing his tongue past your entrance.
“Fuck!” You moan, hips jolting, causing his hands to slide up and hold them into place.
He slides it into you as far as he can, nose bumping your clit. Making you realise very quickly that you’re going to finish around his mouth.
He moans into you, again the vibrations makes you writhe in his tight grip. “I- Harry- more!”
It’s making your whole body shake, and he’s pressed so far into you that it’s all you can feel. And it’s obvious that you’re about to come, just with the way your cunt is pulsing around his mouth.
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Harry, please, I’m gonna come!” You felt the burning spark fly through you, hitting you like a truck when his tongue curled and rocked inside you.
He’s humming and pressing himself so close you genuinely think he can’t breathe. And you realise immediately when the rubber band in snapped inside of you.
It gushed through your whole body, making you moan and cry in his grip. He couldn’t even explain the feeling of having you clenching around his tongue. It almost made him finish in his pants.
He lapped up every single drop he could. But he didn’t stop.
Your clit was so sensitive as he came back up to it with the same intensive pace.
You tried to push him off, “be a good girl, baby, give me another one.”
“So sensitive, Harry.” You whined, hand threading into his soft hair.
“Y’can take it.” He states, going back to sucking on your clit, and the outside of your entrance.
It made you a mess. A proper fucking mess.
You legs were being spread wide by the palm of his hands, and you were almost crying at how sensitive your pussy was.
You were always a five-minute-scroll-break kind of girl when it came to masturbation. So this came as a whole shock to your body. And it was so fucking hot from his perspective.
All he could hear was your filthy fucking whines, begging him one minute to stop and the next to go faster. And he was going insane at how sensitive your little hole was.
That was all he could feel. The clenching of your cunt, the absolute shaking mess your body was becoming.
His tongue flicked over your clit, just as you imagined he would after seeing him last night. And it was getting to messy, your arousal absolutely coating his mouth and chin.
“I-“ a deep suck of your clit, “I’m gonna fucking come!”
You writhed the whole way through your orgasm. Fucking into his face like it was a toy, grinding into it so hard your sure he was completely consumed by you.
And as you came down from the high, still shaking, he cleaned up down there again. Too good to waste, was his thought process. ‘You tasted like a dream’ you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter against you at some point.
His thumbs run over the dips of your hips to bring you back down to earth.
“Good girl, Baby. Took my mouth so fucking well.” He presses a final kiss on your clit as he stood up, your hands dragging up his back did.
“Feeling a little better too, i hope.”
“Yes. So good. H.” You panted, still in a bit of a daze.
“Next time,” he peppered a kiss on you shoulder, “tell me when you’re feeling all worked up okay.”
You nodded, hands sliding to rest in his hair.
“Or by all means, lay yourself out in my dressing room so I can make make come like you deserve.” He smiles at your little nod, still so out of it.
“My little gift, hm?” He coos, stroking a gentle hand down your face.
And he knows he’d do this moment a thousand times over with you. Just to see that smile flash over your lips.
———
2K notes · View notes
wlntrsldler · 1 month
Text
bad for business | luke castellan
warnings: loser!luke agenda is strong with this one, insecure!luke because of reader's judgmental siblings but they get over it later on, suggestive content but nothing explicit, luke being happy and in love (we need more of this; i'm pointing the finger at myself, i need to write happy luke fics) aphrodite!reader x luke, in an alternate universe where the betrayal didn't happen
based on bad for business by sabrina carpenter
i. he's good for my heart, but he's bad for business.
"she's probably going to dump him soon, anyway."
"she's just doing it for the tradition, obviously."
"she's too good for him."
sometimes luke just wanted to tell them to shut up, but he's already on thin ice with-- well, everyone at camp. they weren't a fan of the smell of cigarettes that lingered on his clothes, or the ugly scar on his face (this, wasn't his fault though. if anything, they should hate his fucking dad for giving him the quest in the first place), or the fact that he's somehow dating the most popular, gorgeous, and brilliant girl at camp.
you, y/n y/l/n, the favorite daughter of aphrodite. at first luke thought that you'd be just like the rest of the aphrodite girls (he's not one to perpetuate stereotypes, being the victim of it all his life, but the aphrodite kids always turned their noses up at him so he didn't feel too bad dishing it out), but then you smiled at him with your pretty, pink lips and luke knew he was a goner. he didn't stand a chance (not like he fought it too hard anyway)
you made an effort to remember his name, say hello to him when you passed by him, and you even went as far as asking him for his opinion on things.
"what do you think of this strategy, luke?" you asked, staring at him directly. the entire blue team was arguing loudly (luke thought their strategy fucking sucked and was a sure way for the ares cabin to, once again, demolish all of you, but he was going to keep that to himself) before your soft voice broke the noise. everyone stopped in their tracks because why the hell were you talking to him? asking him for his opinion?
he blinked, even looking behind him in case there was some other kid named luke that he didn't know about. when he finally realized that you were talking to him, he managed to stutter out that the plan was fine. you looked at him skeptically, penetrating the persona he put up with everyone, but decided not to push him anymore and simply nodded.
when the red team, led by the ares cabin, of course, handed your asses to you on a silver platter, you found luke at dinner and sat directly in front of him. chris, who was just as starstruck as luke that you were sitting with them, immediately scrambled off his seat and mumbled some half-hearted excuse to leave the two of you alone.
"so, spill," you said, planting your tray of food on the table. "what did you really think of the strategy?"
your conversation went from strategy to your life to his life to everything and anything until you two were the last two people left. he was glad when people finally got tired of gawking at you and him. (many in disbelief, all in jealousy that you decided to sit with him) you didn't seem to mind the stares, though, luke figured it was because you were used to it. it was hard not to stare at you.
luke thought that dinner was just a glitch in the matrix, that it was just some weird anomaly that would never happen again. he was just thankful that it happened; but then the next day, your perfectly manicured hand knocked on the hermes cabin door and you stood in front of luke with a timid smile on your face to ask him to train you in sword fighting.
luke got dressed at record speed. chris woke up after the third time luke hit his head under his bed when he was trying to find a semi-decent shirt to wear to your sparring session (maybe one that didn't smell too much like cigarettes). chris sat up on his bed, eyebrow quirked, with a teasing smile on his face.
as luke was racing out the door, he looked at chris, "don't start.''
chris threw his head back laughing, "i didn't say anything."
luke threw a pillow at chris with an oomph before rushing out to meet you.
the training sessions slowly morphed into sitting next to each other daily during meals, then into hanging out at campfires, until it got to the point when there wouldn't be a second of free time where the two of you wouldn't be together. luke could feel your siblings shooting daggers at him whenever he was alone, like a warning to stay away from you, but it's not like he was the one initiating things.
sure, he would follow you around the ends of the world if you asked (or even if you didn't, let's be honest here) but luke didn't want to test his luck so he just went with the flow. sometimes, he just wanted to talk to your siblings to set the record straight.
"look, i'm just as fucking confused as you are," he would say, "i don't know why she's hanging out with me either."
as much as he enjoyed your moments together, a piece of him still worried that you were just being nice. maybe you were this way with everyone. maybe he just likes you so much that he's making up these scenarios in his head.
he tried to talk to chris about it, but that proved to be the wrong decision because it's not like the boy had any experience either; he was pining over clarisse. the blind leading the blind, truly.
and then one day, while you and luke were sitting beside the water, after a long day of training, you looked over at him with an unreadable expression.
panicked, luke immediately straightened his back and twisted his body to face you. he wanted to reach for your hand to comfort you, but decided against it. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. he cleared his throat, "what's wrong?"
"why haven't you asked me out?"
you would've thought percy summoned a cold wave to crash into luke with the way he was sitting there frozen. luke was looking at you blankly, like his brain was short-circuiting. it was a habit of his to blink and tilt his head to the side whenever he was shocked.
"huh?"
you were frowning now, "do you not like me? i'm sorry, i guess i was just reading the situation wrong."
"woah, pause," luke leaned in closer, inspecting your face to see if there was a punchline about to drop like it was a gotcha! moment and all of your siblings would come out from behind the trees to laugh at him. he found no sign of such a thing. "do you like me?"
"luke, i've been so obvious," there was a hint of embarrassment in your voice and luke wanted to kiss it away. your cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of red as you chewed on your bottom lip. "i thought maybe you liked me too, but i guess it was all in my head. i'm sorry-- forget i even said anything."
"yeah, i don't want to forget it," luke shook his head, now stumbling over his words. his brain was working again, sort of. "i like you, too. like really like you. sorry, you just caught me off guard for a sec."
"you do?"
"gods, i really really do."
you beamed at him and luke was so thankful that he was sitting because his knees would've buckled at your reaction and humiliated himself by falling face-first in the water if he was standing. he was especially thankful that he was sitting when you climbed onto his lap to make out with him until both of your lips were bruised.
ii. i'm mad for you, it's sad but true, and you know it. you're on my mind, you stole my life and it's showing.
word traveled fast after that. when you walked into breakfast with luke's arm around your waist, the whispers started. luke thought the staring before was bad, but this was on a new level. he felt the other aphrodite kids following his every move, poison in their eyes.
when you sat next to luke, impossibly close to him, chris' eyebrows rose in glee. he motioned to the both of you with his spoon, flicking drops of milk with the motion, "what's going on here?"
"i'm luke's girlfriend now."
luke nearly choked on the apple he was eating when he heard the words leave your lips. yes, he knew that you were dating now (his pathetically hoarse voice saying, "will you be my girlfriend?" after the hours-long makeout session the night before haunted his dreams last night; he wanted to keep his cool so bad, but it just wasn't possible when you were sitting on his lap, all pretty with your thighs on either side of his, lips glossy with his saliva instead of your typical lipgloss), but it was the first time he heard you refer to yourself as his girlfriend. his girlfriend.
"nice," chris raised his hand up for a high-five, which luke was about to complete, but chris pulled his hand away, "not for you, dude."
you giggled and high-fived chris, making luke look between the two of you in bewilderment.
"what the fuck was that?" luke asked. when did you and chris get close?
"this is embarrassing," you started, looking down at your plate of food. you were dragging your spoon across the blob of oatmeal, "but i talked to chris about you last week because i was so sad that you haven't made a move yet. i just wanted to hear his opinion on things in case i was just being stupid."
"why didn't you tell me this?"
"i tried!" chris argued, laughing a bit when luke's face turned red, "plus, i didn't want to tell you that me and y/n had a conversation because i had faith that you'd make a move! i obviously bet on the wrong horse, though, because y/n made the move."
"oh my gods, i'm a loser." luke groaned, tossing the apple on his tray. he lost his appetite. "you mean we could've been together this entire time?"
you placed a hand on his thigh, making him turn his attention to you. you gave him a comforting smile that he quickly reciprocated. you gave his thigh a soft squeeze, "it's okay, luke. we can make up for lost time."
luke smirked at you, "tonight?"
"dude, i'm trying to fucking eat."
luke threw up the middle finger to chris' face before connecting your lips.
to luke's surprise, your relationship didn't really change much after putting a label on it. (the changes that did occur were that now he can kiss you freely, which he was thankful for, and that you were even more touchy with him, which he was extremely thankful for because he loved having you next to him at all times. he was so smitten with you.) he realized then how blind he'd been the entire time because you were so very obvious about your feelings for him, he was just too stuck in his own head to notice it.
he started being outwardly affectionate with you, gaining more confidence while he was on your arm. his favorite thing to do was to wrap his arms around your torso and bury his face into the crook of your neck. he loved hearing you erupt in giggles when his curls tickled your skin. he was drunk on you and you didn't mind one bit.
you even said that you were more attached to him than he was to you (he looked at you like you had three heads because it couldn't have been further from the truth.)
he took you on little picnic dates and made you jewelry that you wore proudly, and you wore his clothes (he would be lying if he said that his heart didn't skip a beat when you walked out of the aphrodite cabin sporting his hermes sweater) but above all, luke loved the way he could talk to you about everything. he told you about his mom, his dad, his doubts and his insecurities, and you listened. you would sit there, hands in his hair, while he laid on your chest. he didn't know the last time he felt safe, but with you, he always did.
iii. all of my friends think i've gone crazy, but they don't know me like my baby.
luke tried to ignore the fact that there were running bets from campers about how long you two would last, but it was getting to him. he'd heard it all; a week, two weeks, three months. he fought the urge to roll his eyes when he heard the jingling of drachmas being passed around when you and him were seen together after someone lost their bet.
it's been two months but people still believed that you two were going to break up soon. the idea of it made luke feel sick. he couldn't imagine a life without being yours anymore. truth be told, he was wholly yours the minute he met you, but after every kiss, every hug, every second with you, he was just falling deeper in love with you.
it was a little scary.
"hiya, baby," you greeted him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.
you started calling him the pet name a few days into dating and luke actually whimpered when you did it the first time. you loved getting these reactions from luke and his little sounds (both innocent and not-so-innocent) only spurred you on. when he's with you, luke turned into this mush, always wanting to be held by you or touching you in some way.
"hi," he mumbled, leaning up to place a quick kiss on your lips.
you hummed happily before resting your hands on his back, "baby, you're tense. are you okay?"
"yeah," luke replied, but his furrowed eyebrows said differently.
"no you're not," you walked in front of him, wrapping your arms around his torso, "what's going on?"
luke sighed, "everyone thinks we're gonna break up-- or more specifically, everyone thinks you're gonna break up with me."
"do you believe that i'll break up with you?" you frowned, loosening your hold on him. "did i do something that made you think that?"
"no, no," he said, quickly. he pulled you closer to him, not wanting you to let go of him. "i just-- i dunno. everyone says i'm not good enough for you, and i know i'm not, and it's getting to my head a little bit."
you looked up at him, removing your hands from around him to reach for his face. you brought his face down closer to yours to pepper kisses all over it; his cheeks, his lips, his scar, his jaw. "i think you're perfect."
"you have to say that 'cause you're my girlfriend," he playfully rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop a goofy smile from forming on his face due to your kisses.
"yeah, i am your girlfriend," you reminded him, placing a longer kiss on his lips now. your lips moved together, making luke's hands wander to your lower back to push you closer to him. you pulled away, breathless, "listen to your girlfriend, baby. i'm not going anywhere so don't worry your pretty little head about it."
there were still moments when the voices of the other campers bounced around in luke's head, but you were always there to quiet them with your reassurance and your love for him.
eventually, people stopped talking about you and luke and accepted that you two weren't breaking up anytime soon (they were about six months too late, in luke's opinion). he even managed to win over your siblings later on (kind of; they still don't talk to him unless they have to but they smile at him now, but luke isn't picky; a win is a win)
luke was happy and in love and it was all thanks to you.
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izvmimi · 8 months
Text
katsuki wakes you up from your midday nap with his yelling.
it isn't exactly a rude awakening - you just turn with the sudden ruckus coming from outside your bedroom - but it's enough to cause you the tiniest bit of alarm, even if being together at home is the safest place you can imagine on this earth.
it's saturday evening and he thankfully will not be gone for patrol, so you could afford the extra time to sleep off a worsening migraine. you shift out of your bed, satisfied that a combination of ibuprofen and extra z's have done their work, and make your way out towards the source of the fuss. as you get closer, you're happy to know that it's nothing serious - rather katsuki is simply speaking at loud volume into his phone, presumably irritated, but not devastated by something.
he doesn't hear you coming as light as your footsteps are, and you stand at the doorway to observe him.
"what the FUCK do you mean 'there's nothing you can do'?! i spent hours making these arrangements and you expect me to just accept a gift card like my anniversary is replaceable?!"
you blink, suppressing a yawn still, and watch him. he's agitated and you're pretty sure he's justified, although it probably isn't great for him to yell so much, even if your ears are somewhat attuned to it given your many years together. it's not like when you met him he was exactly the stoic and silent type at all times, although he could be if he wanted to.
but why would you want him to be any different than himself?
you step forward after a few more moments of him hunching over, gritting his teeth as he hears whatever palliating excuses the customer service has on the other end, then press a hand to his shoulder. he stiffens - in fact, he almost pales at your touch and his voice drops nearly to half the number of decibels, a barely audible whisper. reassessing his anger, he nods to you, then to the agent he cannot see, and clears his throat.
"i'll be a little more uh..." he glances at you, and you're smiling at him, but you're giving him the look that pleads him to be nice, and he sighs, "judicious about my willingness to do business with you in the future, but i'll accept a gift card. for now."
with that, the conversation ends. katsuki looks red for a different reason, the gentle sting of embarrassment in his cheeks. you decide not to rub it in, and find a way to settle into his lap.
"what's going on, baby?" you ask. he makes a sound of displeasure, then adjusts your position balanced atop his knee, running a hand through his hair. he then looks at you again, appraising your own emotional state before deciding to change the topic. after all, it's probably best you don't know why he lost his temper.
"did you nap well?" he asks first, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.
"not with you hollering," you tease as he lets his teeth graze gently on the skin of your collarbone. he looks up and frowns.
"was it that bad?" his voice is quieter now, lower. you tilt your head.
"you yell all the time. it's fine, i'm used to it. partially deaf at this point."
he frowns again, then mutters a "sorry."
your hand cups his chin. that one word is spoken too softly.
"hey, i'm not made of glass. speak up." you say, squeezing. he smiles, circling his own hand on your wrist before pulling it towards him to kiss the underside.
"sorry, princess!" he says louder, and you giggle, turning your head.
"what? can't hear you?"
he pulls you in and yells directly in your ear, and you scream, and he holds, both of you laughing together. once the two of you calm down, he sighs and leans back into the couch, making sure to take you with him so that you're resting on his chest.
he exhales deep and you wait, knowing he has more to say.
"you know," he starts, tracing circles into your palm, "i had an ex-" you bristle for a moment, and he grins at you, then kisses your forehead, "that thought i was too loud."
"loud, yes. too loud? i'm not sure," you reply.
he shrugs. "she would bristle any time she heard me talking. i would never yell at her, but i guess i scared her in some way just by the tone of my voice."
"mm." part of you wonder what they expected; he's always lived boisterously, with no pretense otherwise, but you keep mum.
"so i felt like i couldn't really be myself around them. obviously not the way i can be with you."
katsuki looks away from you for a moment and in space as though he is thinking, and then soon time is up, and his focus shifts back to you, giving you a cheeky grin.
"thanks for putting up with me," he says. again his voice is soft and quiet, because he addresses you with care, not because you've demanded him to adjust for you, but because he wants to.
you peck his nose. "well, when i go deaf in both ears, i'll reconsider."
he rolls his eyes playfully, and you pull his ear and yell, "i love you!"
he threatens to throw you off of him again, and you playfight until you're both rested on the couch, content in each other's arms.
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hells-wasabii · 2 months
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Hi could you pretty please do velvette x reader who is Carmilla youngest daughter and how her family reacts (plus zestial pls I ship him and Carmilla so I feel like he's a step dad)❤️
A/N: I blacked out and wrote this.... but yeeees LISTEN!! I love Velvette so much, its not even funny and i had a lot of fun with this prompt! I didn't realize how much i wrote for it until it was too late, and by that point, i really couldn't stop. but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! ps i honestly ship them too
Part 1 | Part 2
Character: Velvette
Type: Headcanons + Drabble (Velvette x reader who's Carmilla's youngest daughter, General with a bit of Angst and Fluff sprinkled in)
For Velvette, she actually entered into the relationship not really knowing who your parents were. You never brought it up and she never really asked. It didn't really matter to her, since, ya know, you're the one she's dating, not your mum and dad, or step-dad from what you've mentioned.
Honestly, she should've seen the similarities. They were there for sure, but let's face it, there are so many demons in hell that it was probably just a coincidence, right?
Carmilla also knew you were seeing someone as well, though she really figured that you would bring this special demon around when you were ready.
Oh, they were both wrong. So very wrong.
They found out simultaneously, of course, as cliche as it was. You were on an evening out with Velvette with no clear destination in mind, just simply enjoying the evening and each other's company when the next thing you knew you were face to face with your mother.
It... didn't go too well.
What had once been a peaceful evening nearly dissolved into a turf war all in an instant. If you hadn't been able to separate the two with a promise to talk to both separately later there was no doubt that everything in a three-block radius would be collateral.
Zestial and your sisters would find out soon thereafter, Carmilla of course telling them when they see her come home looking quite distraught.
As stated before, to Velvette, it really didn't matter. though it did sweeten the deal. It would give her plenty more opportunities for her to provoke the arms dealer, something that she already took a great deal of pleasure in.
Zestial would be skeptical of the relationship at the start but eventually comes to accept it fully. His patience won out this time. He's seen more than enough relationships like this go up in flames and he'd never want that for you. He considered you a daughter after all.
As for your sisters, both of them were simply happy that you were happy. They were more worried about how y'alls mom would react. And you can't tell me that they didn't already know, either.
Carmilla on the other hand... To her, family is everything. I mean, she killed an angel for you and your sisters. She'd do anything for her kids, and that includes keeping someone like that upstart from breaking your heart. She wholeheartedly believed that Velvette was only dating you to get one over on her. It really comes as no surprise when she goes all the way to Vee Tower to confront the youngest overlord herself.
"You need to stay away from my daughter."
The fashionista bit out a curse as a needle pricked her finger. Velvette doesn't usually startle easily, but shit, between her being completely focused on finishing and the fact that her workshop had previously been silent save for any sounds that she had been making herself, she thought that even the most stone-cold bitch would've jumped.
What good was the security for if those nitwits couldn't keep unauthorized demons out of her workshop? The influencer swore that if any blood got on the material for this dress she'd personally kill the guards and whoever-
Oh.
Of all the people she expected to see, Carmilla Carmine, the uptight weapons dealer, and apparent mum of her girlfriend, was not one of them. Or actually, scratch that. She was completely expecting this to happen sooner or later.
"Well, it sucks to suck then, wrinkles, I'm not going nowhere." The fashionista bit back, a smirk settling on her lips that quickly fell when the older woman tried to push her point.
"I know what you're trying to do and it-"
"Obviously you don't." All mischief gone from her tone, Velvette set her work to the side, careful not to crumple the fabric. She rose to her feet and began to cross the room to Carmilla, who in turn stood taller, determined not to let this miscreant make a mockery of her, her family, and most importantly her youngest daughter. "I hate to break it to you, but the only way I'll break it off is if SHE wants to."
Velvette paused, her eyes boring into Carmilla's with a conviction and passion that the arms dealer hadn't felt from the influencer before. When the younger woman spoke again, her voice was softer than before, laced with a sincerity that would leave the mother speechless.
"I love her."
Its this singular interaction that leads to a truce between the two (technically five if you include Zestial and the Vee's) Overlords. They would come to some sort of mutual understanding that if both of them were to be in your life, they'd have to play nice. At least in front of you. At Overlord meetings, well, that's a whole different story.
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mangosrar · 2 months
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call it what you want pt7.
matt sturniolo x fem reader.
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over the years, matt had got into many fights, countless punches thrown at people, and almost an infinite number of run ins with those who simply just pissed him off.
but it always shocked you that he was like this. chris and nick we’re such nice people. sure they had both had fights with people before, but matt was ridiculous.
and this factor was part of the reason you couldn’t stand him. you had never been in a fight before. you’d never hit or punched anyone, never even laid a harmful finger on one single person, so the earth shifted a little when you locked eyes on jessica levri, pushing, and yelling in your fake boyfreinds face, because like a hounds blood, you were drawn to it.
you weren’t sure if it was because of the adrenaline from what just happened with matt, or the pure fact that jessica levri had been on her high fucking horse far too long and she needed a rude awakening, but before you could even register what was happening, you were wedging yourself between her and matt and pushing her shoulders, sending her stumbling back.
she looked at you, scoffing like you were the most vile thing on earth.
you’re gaze on her was intense, like she was about to turn to stone any second, and your whole body was red hot with anger.
by now pretty much the whole team were stood around, waiting in anticipation. matt was behind you, chris to your left, caden to your right, and elijah stood behind jess.
you watched as she swapped her eyes from yours to matts, before smirking and opening her mouth.
“get your dog under control matty, it looks like she bites” she sneered.
there was no reply from matt, but you heard him suck in a breath from behind you.
you bit the inside of your cheek. you had gotten this far, but you hadn’t thought it through. what we’re you even going to say?
she laughed before crossing her arms over her chest and leaning down, getting right in your face.
“what? you gonna hit me?”
great idea.
there was no time for any other person to even get a word in edge ways.
as soon as you pulled your hand back, it was like everything was suddenly moving in slow motion.
the whole school was watching.
caden.
matt was right behind you.
oh god your parents, what would they think.
you were probably going to be expelled.
you were about to rock Jessica levris shit in front of half of your town.
there was no turning back now.
the second your fist landed on her face with a searing crack, the whole crowd gasped.
she dropped to the floor like a bag of bricks. clutching her face, crying like a kicked dog.
“yes bitch” you yelled, bending down slightly.
your chest was heaving up and down, red hot fury surging through your veins like the deadliest poison, and somehow it felt exhilarating, like taking a breath after drowning.
everyone stood completely gobsmacked. matt, elijah, caden, chris. all in complete silence, mouths hanging open at your outburst.
there was a brief moment, and the temptation to jump on her and carry on hitting her stupid bitchy face was through the roof.
but just as you went to make a move, hands came around you from behind your waist, throwing you over their shoulder, and escorting you off of the rink, while you kicked and screamed, yelling whoever it was to put you down.
-
“i mean what we’re you even thinking y/n” chris yelled, pacing up and down the locker room while you sat on the bench, watching him like a disciplined child. he had picked you up and walked you right out, preventing you from causing anymore damage.
about 20 minutes had passed, and still no sign of matt.
“i don’t know” you muttered quietly.
“you know you’re gonna be in trouble right?” he said, coming to a halt and pointing a finger at you.
you simply nodded and looked down.
the both of you just basked in the silence, taking a moment to recollect after the complete shit show that just occurred.
it was now that you were realising, that hitting jessica was the stupidest decision you had ever had. no good would come of it. matt would still probably go back to her, your parents were gonna be furious, ans the school we’re gonna expel you. what a waste of bruised knuckles.
suddenly, the locker room door burst open and matt came rushing through, making both you and chris to snap your heads up in his direction.
“i’ve looked everywhere for you guys” he panted.
“yeah, i had to get this Chihuahua away from the general public, who knows who’s next on her hit list” chris spat. you knew he was angry with you. this was the most out of character thing you’ve ever done.
matt nodded, looking at you, before rubbing a hand over his face and opening his mouth to speak.
“hey uh, would you give us a minute to talk?” he asked, swapping his gaze to his brother.
he just scoffed, not even sparing you a glance, before walking away, slamming the door shut on his way out, making you flinch.
matt watched the door close before padding over to you and sitting down.
you refused to look up at him, too worried to see his expression.
“he’s pissed” matt stated.
you just nodded. keeping your eyes trained to your feet. you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your face.
“you broke her nose” he spoke, his tone flat.
“good that bitch deserved it” you scoffed.
matt just shook his head, letting out a breath, before standing up in-front of you.
“what has gotten into you? last i checked, you wouldn’t even talk shit about someone without feeling bad and now you’re hitting people?” he questioned.
“i don’t know matt! i was pissed at you and then she just-“ you cut yourself off, sighing. “i don’t know” you finished. finally bringing your eyes up to meet his.
“so you wanted to hit me, but you hit her instead?” he raised his eyebrows, eyes boring into yours.
you just shrugged, there was no justification for it at all, apart from the fact that she was a complete bitch, and she was right there.
“you can’t just punch people y/n” he said sternly, folding his arms over his chest, looking down at you like a disappointed parent.
“you do” you exclaimed, looking up at him, raising your voice slightly.
“but you’re not me, you’re not like this, you’re nice and smart, and you’re always gentle with people” he shot back. his words threw you off a little. that was probably the nicest thing matt had ever said about you.
you didn’t reply. you just blinked up at him with furrowed brows.
matt sighed before taking a seat next to you again.
“for what it’s worth, i’d punch your ex for no reason” he said. turning to look at you.
“thanks matt. that means a lot. that doesn’t change the fact that everyone is pissed at me” you yelped, throwing your hands up and letting them fall, and slap against your legs.
“chris will come round, and i’m not pissed at you” he spoke lowly.
you sighed, and turned your head to look at him, and the look that he was giving you made you want to squeeze your thighs together.
there was something written on his face that you couldn’t decipher. his eyes were low and dilated. like he was hungry for something.
there it was again, that moment of silence, both of you just staring at eachother.
matt brought his hand up to brush against your face, then letting it cup your cheek, and in that very moment, you did know better.
your lips were on his in less than a second, pushing and pulling against him.
you felt his tongue prod at your lips. begging for entrance witch you granted, and he was all over you, running his tongue along the roof of your mouth, making you whine and matt smirked against your lips.
his hands came round to pull you up onto his lap and you happily obliged. running your hands up his chest and round to the back of his neck, tugging his hair, pulling a low groan from matts mouth, as his hands ran up your sides, pulling you impossibly closer.
the kiss was hot and sloppy, the both of you, somehow, relishing in the hatred for one another, but basking in the tension.
you felt matts hands travel down to your ass, pushing you back and pulling you forward, making you rock your hips against his, and you damn near dropped to your knees, before a voice snapped you both out of it.
“well this is a sight for sore eyes”.
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also my taglist is not working, so if it says i haven’t tagged you, trust me i tried 💕
this long as fuck taglist: @sturnssan @biplrbtch bitch @valerieburkens @ukyios @eyelessdemon00 @iheart2021chris @hearts4chris @leah-loves-lilies @whicked-hazlatwhore e @lexihowardsgf @1201pm-blog m @chrislover911 @yourmom-123456789 5 @x4nd3rsukz @ilovechrissturnioloposts @mattnchrisworld @leoloveeeee e @jazab3lla @martyniukpl @sturnbaby @knowingnothingnoel @ilovemattstromboli i @obsessedwithyou @dragonstoneshortcake @breeloveschris @biinthisbitch13 @skyteller143 @innocentfsin @mattswifue @thatcrazybitch-69 @ihateeveryone357474 4 @shmophsturniolo o @sturns-posts @mattsturnzzz09 @sturnisposts @jenna0rtegaswife @jeffbuckleylvr27 @katelynmeier14 @sara2233445 @alexb25598 @sturniolos4lifee @st7rnioloss @kasiaslayuje @causeidontlikegolsrush @cosmicmistake42069 9 @xxloveralways14 @24kmar @creamoncreamoncream2 @kennyhop @khloe7233 @sofiasnookiee @sfdfgy @iker-blog1 yn @sleepdeprivedandinsane @quinnroki @lvr444life e @ffhgdxgg @travelintheworld2 @aubreyswift13 @sturniololol @starziick @heartlesssturniolos @nickmillersn1gf @beautyb1ade @tommysaxes
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islandofsages · 3 months
Note
hey, I could ask the royal boys (Leona, Kalim and Malleus) with the male reader who is already the king of his country, like the boys thought he was a prince like them, but then on any given day he lets out a complaint how difficult it is to govern the kingdom and study for exams at the same time, sometimes he just wanted to be the prince and not the king.
characters: leona, kalim and malleus x king!male reader
tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format
warnings: a little bit of negativity towards reader in leona's part, a bit of swearing in kalim's
author's notes: loving all the male reader requests rn. i think i strayed a bit from the prompt but i hope you like it anyway <3
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Leona Kingscholar
Though being a prince himself, he’s not as “diplomatic” with the other princes at that school - except for you probably. No don’t ask him what happened, he’s ready to accept it as it is
At least because of your (assumed) status, he finds it easier to communicate with you; at least you’re not one of the top five most powerful mages in the world or the most optimistic person in Twisted Wonderland
Hangouts with him still consist more of silent chilling though; both of you just need to get away from it all for a while
He doesn’t question the days that you’re gone - sometimes people just end up needing you to do this and that. He tries not to dwell on it too much, lest his inferiority complex gets the best of him
Until one day, you come back after one day of absence, which is normal enough until-
“*sigh* I swear, being king is less appealing as my retainers make it sound, especially since I also have to go to school all the while.”
I’m sorry, being what now?
He knew you were royalty, that much he got from everyone whispering about you back when you enrolled and since you made little mention of your background, he just assumed you were a prince like him
You let out a tired chuckle then and comment on how you forgot that you never told him you’re an actual king of a nation
He has mixed feelings over this - he thought he finally met someone a little bit like him, yet you’re just another one of them and you never bothered telling him who you are?
But don’t worry, he gets over his feelings of betrayal after a while; it’s not like the reveal changed who you are as a person. You’re still the same guy who he’s been hanging out with and he knows his brain is trying to defend itself
You apologize for not telling him sooner and despite your complaints, you try not to sound ungrateful, especially considering his issues
At some point, even Leona himself starts to forget about that fact
It doesn’t matter if you carry a whole nation on your shoulders because - and he will never say this out loud - he knows you’re capable and if you start to crumble, he’ll be there for you.
Kalim Al-Asim
Though he’s not one to really care about someone’s social status, he’s happy to have more royal friends
Doesn’t stop him from spoiling you. Haven’t you heard? Any friends of Kalim are also friends of his many, many fortunes
He invites you over to Scarabia for parties every so often and either you are surrounded by people or everyone leaves you alone out of intimidation
But hey, if the latter happens, Kalim is more than happy to help you make some friends (unless you’re uncomfortable with it of course but he’ll still try to help)
One time, at one of his many parties, you two were simply laughing over something and it reminded you of something-
“That makes me think of the time this creature took a shit on my throne back at home - it took a few days for the stench to fade!”
Oh, of course, your throne! Everyone totally has a literal throne back home! Until Kalim realizes that is, in fact, untrue
As if he wasn’t already excited at the prospect of a new friend, he gets more excited at the fact that you have your own throne and is, he concludes, a monarch
You brush him off, light pink decorating your cheeks, saying that it’s not really that special - and you mean it
You tell him of the experience and you couldn’t help slip in a few complaints; it isn’t easy to juggle both school and royal responsibilities at the same time
He only listens in and tries his best to understand; he is no king, and though he is a housewarden and a prince, your struggles differ from his by a long mile
From that day on, he makes sure to check in on you and if you’re feeling less than, he’ll drop everything and do anything to relieve you of your stress
When he drops by your nation and your palace, he brings in a whole parade. It’s so Kalim that you can only laugh
You knew that story about a creature shitting on your throne was gonna be a good story at parties.
Malleus Draconia
Your presence is an absolute delight to him; it didn’t occur to him to ask what kind of royalty you are but it didn’t matter either way
He finds himself more comfortable talking about his heritage around you, knowing that you can somewhat relate to being of nobility
If you’re not part of his club, sometimes you tag along on his gargoyle crusades for the hell of it - seeing him so passionate about something brings a smile to your face
On one of your many escapades, he points out a gargoyle and begins to ramble about its features
Hearing it suddenly makes you remember-
“Ah gosh, I just remembered I should be back home right now, some of my people will be coming over to construct some gargoyles around my castle.”
He doesn’t question it at first but then the phrase “my people” registered in his mind. Wait, what do you mean your people?
You start to apologize for not telling him and also the fact that you have to leave that very moment
After you came back after the whole ordeal, you sit him down somewhere and tell him about your position
As mentioned, it doesn’t matter to him what responsibilities you have, as long as you can be his friend
You breathe out a sigh of relief and invite him to continue where you two left off last time
Nothing changes much between you two, except for the fact that you share more of your kingly experiences
He definitely drops by your place at least once - he could never miss out a chance on seeing some new gargoyles
And as he looks on at those beautiful waterspouts, you can’t help but be grateful that they can serve as a source of happiness for someone too.
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ineffable-suffering · 5 months
Text
The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie
Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley
Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.
So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:
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(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)
As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.
When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.
Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.
Ergo:
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✨This✨
Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!
Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.
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Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.
Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.
Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...
... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:
Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."
At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)
Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!
And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).
But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.
Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)
This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.
So, riddle me this:
Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?
To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–
No.
He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.
During one car ride.
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Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!
Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.
Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?
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Talk about over the top ...
Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?
These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.
Oh, right, speaking of books:
Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:
Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...
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... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?
That's right: Giving away his books.
I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.
Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?
Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.
And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.
Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):
Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."
Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!
And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.
You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?
Mhm, that's right.
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This pretty old serpent.
I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:
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You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.
And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.
I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.
As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.
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... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?
"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.
Marvellous!
You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and
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However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:
"Have you thought of just talking to him?"
Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?
'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?
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Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!
Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)
On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.
Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?
Well. Well.
The answer's in the title, babes.
Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!
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Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.
And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?
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Oh, bless it, angel.
He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"
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Ah yes, there he is.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.
Oh, yes, right. The dancing.
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Parallel much?
But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).
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And once again, fhwack:
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... the rosy bubble bursts.
Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:
In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.
During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:
doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed
remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley
and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)
So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”
The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.
And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.
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*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.
***
Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!
Au revoir! 💗
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jishyucks · 4 months
Text
Candy Cane Delays — lmk
‣ pairing: mark lee x reader
‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, classmates au
‣ wc: 3k
‣ summary: Sure, it was disheartening seeing everyone receive a holiday candy gram but you, especially when you’re the one in charge of selling them at lunch. But don't worry, yours is on the way. He’s just… running a bit late.
‣ warnings: nothing i think,, reader’s kinda annoying about not getting a holiday candy gram but honestly same
‣ an: first part of my True Love Gave to Me Series YAY! Hopefully my writing’s good enough and this is somewhat cute bc I thought the idea was adorable,,, it honestly would’ve been longer and more detailed if I didn’t have 11 other mini fics to write but PLS ENJOYYY
Series Masterlist
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Every year for the past 3 years, you've been in charge of selling the holiday candy grams for the winter dance.
And every year for those same 3 years, you’ve never, not even once, received a single candy gram. 
Sure, your best friend Yeri always offered to get you one for fun, but you told her off, cause in your mind it didn’t count when they tell you they’ll be getting you one. You wanted to receive one the good ‘ol traditional way—you wanted to be surprised. 
But whatever you wished, you never received. 
And that was okay. 
Because there came a point where you accepted the fact that you would probably never get one. It was a bit depressing (and maybe a tad embarrassing), but you simply chose to never get your hopes up every year just to be let down at the end. And though it was initially pretty easy ignoring this conclusion, it simply did not help that you were always put in charge of selling the damn grams. 
Every lunch period, you sit behind a table, a poster board with the words ‘PURCHASE YOUR HOLIDAY CANDY GRAMS FOR WINTER DANCE HERE!’ taped at its edge. You wait for students to approach you with pocket money, then you slide them as many candy grams as they pay for. Once they’ve finished filling out the slips of paper, you take the sheets back and begin preparing them by taping candy canes the school bought from the local dollar store. 
It was a routine you have gotten used to, and you don't expect to see any changes happening any time soon. 
“Can I have three, please?” 
You look up from your pile of candy canes to see your classmate, Jaemin, who’s blinking back at you with a wide smile. You nod and hold your hand out for him to drop his coins in. They land with a muted clunk noise before you drop them into the big metal bank you had pushed to the side. 
“Here you go,” you grin back, sliding three slips of paper toward the boy. He thanks you before turning to a nearby table and you’re left to turn back to the unfinished candy grams sitting in front of you. 
The time that lights up on the screen on your phone tells you that you need to start cleaning up soon so that you’re able to drop the candy grams off to the students distributing them for the day. Relief washes over you as you complete the remaining grams, just in time for Jaemin to return, gripping folded slips of paper in his fingers.
“Thank you,” Jaemin says, handing them to you, “I’ll see you in class, Y/N!” 
“See you, Jaemin,” you reply. And you quickly finish the last three before you start cleaning up. 
You place the empty candy grams on top of the earned money before locking the box. When you stand up, the chair makes an unpleasant noise against the floor and you cringe slightly. Rounding the table, you move the chair along with you, placing it on top and upside down for tomorrow’s use. 
“Am I too late?” 
Another person's sudden presence startles you, making you realize that you've been too absorbed in your tasks to notice the approaching footsteps.
You turn to friend and classmate, Mark, who’s out of breath and sweating from practically every gland of his body. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath. His glasses are slipping down the bridge of nose, but he quickly catches it with the tip of his index finger.
You can’t help but let out a laugh, “Ah, Mark… you’re late…” You pick up the bag of candy canes and sigh, “Again.” 
A sense of déjà vu washes over you. This exact occurrence has been happening for a week straight now and you’re trying to figure out how Mark even manages to pull the same thing each day. It was actually kind of cute, if you had to admit just once, and you’re admittedly curious as to what’s causing him to pull up to the table 30 seconds late. 
“I think my phone’s clock is three minutes too fast,” Mark frowns, eyes round as he brings his phone’s screen up to his face. 
You start walking down the hall and toward Mrs. Kim’s room, where everything was kept between days, “You do know that the clocks on our phones can’t be early, right?” 
Mark nods, though you don’t see. He’s still trailing right behind you, even into the classroom, “I know, but I just needed to blame something.” 
You two approach a closet at the corner of the classroom and you use a key to open it up. You place the things inside, making sure it’s neat and tidy and somewhere slightly hidden in case students decide to break in. You don’t mind Mark seeing where you hide it, though. You trust him. 
The boy gulps before he goes to ask you a question, “Hey, for the Winter Dance—”
“How were the sales today, Y/N?” 
Mark is interrupted by Mrs. Kim, who’s returning from her own lunch break. She glances at Mark and greets him at the same time.
“I think today had the most sales so far,” you reply, “So it went well! Do you want me to leave the finished grams here? I already organized them by class.” Shutting the door, you lock the closet.  
Mrs. Kim nods and makes room on her desk for the bag, “Yes please. Chenle and Jisung are coming in a bit to pick them up. Thanks for your help, Y/N.” 
You bow your head and offer a smile before you turn to leave, Mark following not too far behind. 
“What were you saying?” You look up at him, slowing your pace.
“Hm?” Mark’s head crooks to the side, “When?” Did he accidentally say something out loud?
“Before Mrs. Kim came in. You were saying something but I didn’t catch it.” 
Mark’s heart skips a beat and his eyes widen. Lucky for him, you don’t notice, eyes dead set on your guys’ classroom, “Oh… uh–I forgot.” Mark knows damn well what he wanted to ask you. But the confidence he had built up at that moment dies along with his words and he figures that he’ll just try again another day. He tries his best to play it off, throwing in a sheepish laugh to spice it up, “But if it comes up again, I’ll make sure to say it.” 
“You’re young and you’re already forgetful,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully, “But okay, fine by me.” You turn to sit at your desk, seeing that Yeri’s already at her’s, but you stop yourself and turn back to Mark, “Are you going to be late tomorrow, again?”
Mark feels his cheeks heat up and his head lowers in embarrassment, “I’ll try not to.”
You let out a snort and nod, this time actually heading to your seat. 
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
When Chenle and Jisung come around to hand out the candy grams, students around you perk up in anticipation of receiving one. Yeri nudges your arm when the boys start passing them out, plopping the very same candy grams you finished at lunch.
“Brighten up, you might get one today,” she whispers. Her eyes follow Chenle, who’s approaching the both of you. 
“I know I’m not getting one, Yers,” you shake your head, “I made them.”
“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t get one,” she groans, “Maybe you’re not getting one because you’re being a Negative Nancy.” 
“Please never say that again,” you narrow your eyes at her. 
And when Chenle and Jisung start making their way toward the door and your desk is still empty, you turn to give Yeri a I told you so look.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
Mark’s leg bounces out of anticipation as his eyes wander off to the clock hanging crookedly at the other corner of the room. He has 5 minutes to get up and leave and make it to the candy gram booth. But with the way Renjun was going on and on about an excerpt he had written for this week’s writing club meeting, Mark feels like he’s barely going to make it again.
For some reason, the hormones in his body are causing his heart to knock against his chest repeatedly. He can hear it pounding in his ears, practically drowning out Renjun’s voice. 
Sure buying those candy grams didn’t seem like that big of a deal to anyone else in the group, but to Mark, it was part of a plan he’s had written down in the notes app of his phone since November—asking you out to the winter dance through a gram. Mark knows that he can’t trust himself when it comes to verbally asking you. So a candy gram should do it (yes, he’s aware that’s a little bit dumb but it’s the thought that counts). 
The second that Renjun concludes his piece, Mark is up and out of the room, putting his chair in its rightful place behind a desk. He’s practically sprinting down the hall, slowing down into a walking pace when he passes by doors just so he wouldn’t be stopped and delayed for longer if a teacher had caught him running down the hall like some delinquent. 
He can see the intersection of the hallway where you always set the table up and he books it, the single strap of his backpack hanging on for dear life.
“Am I late?”
Mark stands in front of you, hands on his knees and he’s panting. It was the same exact scene as yesterday. “Please tell me I’m not.” 
You frown, glancing at the table you had just pushed up against the wall, “Sorry, Mark.” 
He groans, “I need to start leaving earlier.” Mark begins to trail you from behind, feet heavy from missing the candy grams yet again. 
“If it makes you feel any better, you have one more week,” you point out. Your arms wrap around the piggy bank and the coins jingle inside. Today was particularly more busy than the previous days. You question, “What do you even do over lunch?”
“I have clubs I go to,” Mark chews on his bottom lip, “It’s kind of stupid—”
“It’s not stupid if you enjoy it,” you shrug. He watches as you tuck the piggy bank and the extra candy canes at the back of the closet before shutting it, “And if you’re always running late you must actually enjoy them.” 
“I guess so,” Mark says quietly. “I’ll come in time tomorrow.” He says this more for himself than for you. 
You laugh, “We’ll see, Mark Lee.” Looking down at the bag of candy canes, you pull one out and hold it out to him, halting just outside of Mrs. Kim’s room, “I’ll give you one for free~” 
Mark stops and blinks at the candy cane in your hand and he sighs. The candy canes weren’t even the reason why he desperately wanted to buy the grams. He can quite literally drop by the store on the way home and get a pack himself if he wanted. 
Mark simply just wanted to get this plan done and over with. He wants to know if you’re going to reject him or if you’re going to say yes. But because this was being drawn out like some imperfect line across a ridiculously long page, he’s not going to know until he gets his hands on one of the candy grams.
But still, Mark lets himself smile at the gesture, hand grazing yours as he takes it, “Thanks, Y/N.”
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
For the next week, Mark (unsurprisingly) arrives late. He catches you either already cleaning the table up or already walking down to Mrs. Kim’s classroom to store the things. And everytime he does come late, Mark wants to beat himself up for it. 
But on the last day, you’re caught by surprise when Mark approaches you in the middle of setting up the booth. For once he isn’t out of breath, and he’s not sweating and hunched over. It was a refreshing sight—amusing, even. The effort this boy was putting into holiday candy grams was endearing and you hope that the people he’s sending his grams to know it. 
“First one here,” you giggle, “How many do you want?”
“Seven,” Mark shoots, “Please.” 
“Seven’s a lot,” You nod, sliding the seven slips of paper before you retrieve the money from him, “Do you know what to do?” 
“Um… just got a lot of people I care about,” Mark retorts. He grabs the slips of paper, a sigh of relief slipping out of his lips, “Thank you.” 
Mark disappears for a good while, though you can see him bent over a table across the hall, scribbling into the blanks like he was supposed to. He looked rather focused, mouthing the small messages he’s leaving on the candy grams. A small part of you is nosy, wanting to know who he’s sending these candy grams to and what messages he’s writing so intently. 
Once he’s finished, Mark returns to the table, placing the candy grams on the table in front of you, “Thanks, Y/N… I can’t talk right now—I do want to catch up with my club—but I’ll talk to you later?” 
You smile gently, taking the filled out candy grams, “Of course. I’m just glad you were able to actually get these today.” 
“Believe me, I am too,” Mark sends a warm smile before he bids you goodbye.
You huff and begin prepping the 7 candy canes for Mark’s seven candy grams. You go ahead and rip 7, inch-long, pieces of tape for each one and start your routine, taping each candy cane to each sheet of paper. 
“Last one,” you mutter to yourself, taking the 7th candy cane between your fingertips. 
When you go to grab the last slip of paper, you’re sent into a brief state of confusion when you don’t actually find a seventh slip. Your brows furrow and you let out an audible ‘huh?’ as you try to search your proximity for that last candy gram.
Did you miscount? Or did Mark just not use it? He could have gotten a refund if he wasn’t going to use it…  Why didn’t he tell you anything?
After thinking hard on it, you let the problem go for now, making a small reminder to yourself to ask Mark about it later.
Chenle and Jisung come to your guys’ class just before the day ends and you would be lying if you said that you had just the slightest bit of hope that you’d receive one since it was the last day—cause surely, for the entire two weeks you’ve been out at lunch selling that damn things, you’d get one, right? 
Sometimes, anticipation was a bitch. It was killing you watching Chenle and Jisung pull out each one from their shared bag, searching the room for the person receiving a damn gram before scurrying down the aisle of desks and plopping it down gently. With each one they would quietly say a ‘for you’ before turning back to the bag to grab the next one. 
Hope was a bitch, too.
“Once again, sorry for interrupting,” Chenle apologizes to your teacher before dragging Jisung out of the room. 
Just as they slip out of the classroom, the bell rings and you don’t find the energy to stand up just yet, eyes staring blankly at your empty desk. 
“You should have just let me get you one, Y/N,” Yeri frowns, rubbing the middle of your back for comfort. She knows exactly how you’re feeling right now, “Want me to treat you to ice cream later? Bubble tea? Anything?”
You shake your head and try to prop a smile on your face, “No, it’s fine, Yers. I just thought that…” Mark.  “Nevermind… Let’s just go.”
You finally push yourself up from your desk and grab your belongings. You leave the room in a hurry, Yeri struggling to keep up with your quick movements. 
From afar, right by your locker, you spot Mark standing there patiently with his hands buried deep into his pockets. And with the boring class you had just had and not receiving a candy gram yet again, you almost forgot that you had to ask Mark about the 7th gram—better yet—he was probably at your locker to tell you about it. 
“Mark,” you greet. Your fingers start fiddling with your lock as you absentmindedly put in your combination, “I wanted to talk to you about the candy grams.” 
“I was actually here for the same reason.” There’s a tone in Mark’s voice that catches you off guard. There’s a slight hint of uneasiness, “Um… and…”
“And?” Now he’s caught your attention. You don’t realize that Yeri’s standing by her own locker, trying to subtly listen in on the conversation. 
“Wait–uh–let me start with the candy gram first because then it can play out, I guess?” Mark shakes his head at how awkward he’s being before pulling out that 7th slip of paper from his pocket, “I…” He goes to read it, taking in a deep breath, eyes scanning it before he hurriedly sticks it out to you, “I was supposed to hand this in earlier at lunch but I figured that since you, you know, were the one doing the candy grams, I didn’t want you seeing it at such an awkward time?”
You’re frozen in place, gently taking the candy gram. With your heart skipping beats and the butterflies suddenly erupting in your stomach, your eyes bulge out of your eyes as you read your name on the sheet in Mark’s handwriting. This was a candy gram for you. To you, From Mark. Your first ever candy gram and it was from Mark. 
Your attention flies straight to the note in the given space beneath the To and the From. 
Your heart skips another beat. 
Winter Dance with me?
“I-I’m sorry there’s no candy cane with it or anything and I don’t have any chocolates or some present to give you and this is such a lame way to ask you to the dance I meant it to be a bit more romantic than this but—”
You cut off Mark’s rambling, “Yes.” 
“W-what?”
“Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.”
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taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @dinonuguaegi @niinjo (couldn't tag :(()
an: first part of my series YAY ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ meant to post it earlier but school and duties call rip,, i hope you enjoyed this! pls leave a like or rb if you enjoyed it and i wanna hear your thoughts on this;; it was the first one I wrote for this so I'm not sure if it's cute :( anyways THANKS FOR READING!
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bluegiragi · 4 months
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You elaborated wonderfully on how Horangi views other Haetae and his relationship to them (I love how your brain works fr every tidbit of what you come up with is scrumptious).
You also gave us vague ideas of how Price and Soap view other dragons/werewolves.
But I’d love to know explicitly, How does everyone in 141 (and Konig) view others of their kind? How do they get treated by other monsters and hybrids? (I’d like to imagine they get a slight amount of flack for cooperating sometimes with the likes of humans)
lots of reading in this post, but I’ll section it off into Harpy, Wraith and Percht so it’s a bit more organized :)
Harpies
Harpy culture really prioritises independence above all else, to the point that their young are left to fend for themselves after they turn 16. They’re also quite a prideful bunch, which means they really dislike sharing space with other harpies. In the military it can be especially dicey, since two harpies will instinctively consider it an insult if they’re forced to be on the same team (it’d be like telling them you don’t think they’re good enough on their own) and it’ll result in a fight at worst and a cold, distant relationship at best. Even Gaz, who is pretty coolheaded and thoughtful as far as harpies go, would be irritated in that sort of situation.
Harpies don’t have this kind of instant animosity for any other flighted monster (like dragons) although they’ll still get a bit competitive. That irritation is a remnant instinct from back when they’d battle each other in the sky to prove themselves to mates - it would always end with one, dead, plummeting to the earth and the other victorious, still flapping. Their mating rituals are a lot less lethal these days, but that immediate wariness around their own kind has stuck.
Wraiths
There is no confirmed number of wraiths currently existing and probably never will be, because they’re impossible to keep track of. However, their numbers are probably very low, simply because the circumstances needed to create a wraith are extremely specific and unlikely to naturally occur.
Because of this, it’s unknown if two wraiths have ever even met - Ghost has definitely never met another one in his whole life (and never wants to either)- but if they did, chances are it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved. They are volatile, capable of massive amounts of destruction if let loose and (so far) impossible to contain against their will. I think they’d mostly be apathetic to one another in a “don’t fuck with me, and I won’t fuck with you” sort of way but they’re naturally sort of angry and vengeful, so it’s best to assume violent confrontation is an inevitability.
For what it’s worth, I think if Ghost did meet another wraith, he’d pity them.
Perchts
Perchts like each other well enough, so long as nobody veers away from tradition too much. They’re monsters that are perfectly happy living within their very insular, very regimented communities and distrust anything that differs from the norm. Their judgemental ways come from generations of belief that their kind all working towards the same goal is the only thing allowing them to survive in the remote areas they call home. However, they tend to go way too far, and punish any deviancy with draconian responses like public beatings and even exile.
König (or Klaus, as he was once known) tried his best in their community but he was doomed from the start with his enormous stature. He adopted a hunch as a child to try to fit in with his peers but it just wasn’t enough. After one too many mistakes, he was beaten and left for dead, effectively disowned by his own kind.
He was saved by a scouting party that happened to be in the area and then voluntarily allowed himself to be mutated so that he could be useful. He was all too happy to do so in the moment with spite against his own kind fueling him, but he regrets it a little nowadays as it’s started to take its toll on him.
Fun fact: Perchts can shapeshift into humans to hide their monstrous features. This means that Konig’s percht form is how he truly is, and whenever you see him as a human, that’s him in his shifted form.
König has a difficult relationship with Perchts nowadays. He hasn’t seen another one in decades since they all avoid large clusters of people like cities and villages. I think if he did meet another one he’d try to run away - he still feels some shame about never being accepted.
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itsacleanmachine · 3 months
Text
What if Mike and Will are not as oblivious as we think?
I know most of us think that Mike and Will are going to FIND OUT about their feelings for each other in s5, and there's going to be a big confession. Yes, I agree that everything seems to be lining up for that, BUT I don't think it's the only way things could play out, especially since it's the most obvious route to take in their love story. So, allow me to introduce you to the idea that Mike and Will might actually become aware of each other's feelings much earlier than we expected and not really need a confession at all!
I have some reasons to think this:
1- The bedroom scene: We established that they were flirting here, right? I mean, it's pretty obvious. So how are they actively flirting with each other here if they think a romantic relationship between them is completely unreachable? Mike was very deliberate about it too, he was doing it very much on purpose. The most telling part is their reactions when they're interrupted. This was talked about in this post here, but I want to reinforce that their reactions here were not only an "oops, we got interrupted" one, it was a "oh, we got interrupted, and now we have to readjust our behavior because we don't want anyone else to see us like this." It looked more like they were aware that they were doing something not really platonic there and quickly changed back to their only best friends' dynamic. ALSO, in the same scene, Will decides to take the painting with him after their conversation. Why would he take the painting after this if he thought it was only a platonic conversation and he had absolutely no chance?
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2- Mike understood what Will meant: This one depends on your interpretation of the van scene, but many of us agree that Mike did understand what Will meant at first and then thought he got it wrong after Will pushed him to tell El that he loved her. So if he really believed in it at that moment, how is he going to go back to being completely oblivious about it again? Mike is very smart, they're going to be closer than ever again in s5, so how is he not going to consider the possibility again? Especially since the painting lie is so hard to cover and makes no sense if you analyze it for more than two seconds, which leads to my next point…
3- M!leven's breakup: The breakup will probably happen very soon into the next season because of the way things ended up taking a bad turn for Mike and El, El's need to focus on saving Max and because it will be much harder to develop byler if they're still together. So how is Mike not going to realize the contradiction in Will's speech? How is he going to keep believing that El commissioned the painting when she is going to break up with him? It just doesn't add up, he will know that she doesn't need him. Also, there's the fact that she doesn't know anything about d&d. Mike was smart enough to see through Will the first time, now with added information he might as well pick up on it again.
4- Hawkins witch hunt storyline potential: This is speculation, but the HUGE potential for some deep dive into the homophobic environment Mike and Will are going to be dealing with in s5 can't be taken out of consideration. Will is already a target in the town since forever, but now Mike is also a target too for being a part of the hellfire club. There are metaphors being applied here relating to the aids crisis that was happening at the time, "a disease that has been spreading across the country." The possibility of Mike and Will being targeted together this time is REAL, they're both hated now. Will is back right when things started to go south in the town again. If the entire town is making comments about the nature of their relationship and their sexualities, how can they simply not think about what it really means? How can they not reevaluate the nature of it themselves? Especially Will, because he knows from his own experience that those people ended up being right about him after all. What if they're right again?
5- "We're friends, we're friends!": Sure thing, Mike was quick to jump to the conclusion here that Will was talking about them in a romantic way, huh? Why would he immediately think Will was suddenly addressing the Thing™ between them if he really thinks there's nothing between them at all? Mike does this in both of their fights, he brings romantic undertones to the conversation when Will is actually only talking about their friendship. He's the one who brings up the "spend the rest of our lives together" idea into the table even if he is dismissing it (which he regrets doing after Will confirms that he actually does want that). He makes sure to let Will know that he DOES NOT put him and El in the same category, "that's because she's my girlfriend, Will" (even though he contradicts himself later in the bedroom scene, putting Will and El in the same category lol). So since the moment Will asks him "and us?" until he clarifies that he's talking about their friendship, Mike is thinking that Will was just straight up talking about their romantic feelings for each other?? Why would he jump to the conclusion that Will would bring that up if he thought there was no chance that there's anything between them in the first place?
6- Less subtext and more text: The fandom knows all about the subtext and queercoding used in the show to indicate that byler will be endgame, but does the general audience know about that? No. It's the last season, and this is a story they're telling with great care throughout the entire show. I don't think they're going to be satisfied if byler ends up being seen as an out-of-nowhere thing. They're going to need to make it more obvious, to show how it has always been meant to be like that and how much Mike is actually in love with Will. How are they supposed to do that using only subtext? They were able to make a lot of people see it until s3, but byler only started to get big as it is today because of how much more obvious about it s4 was. By being a little more straightforward with it in s4, they actually made a lot of people see it for the first time (me included). I think they're only going to amplify that for s5, so now EVERYONE gets to see it too before it actually happens.
If Mike and Will were already sensing the tension between them in s4 with them only having a few more straightforward scenes, how are they going to be oblivious about it in s5 where everything is going to be MORE? More touching, more looks, more heart-to-hearts, more tension, more EVERYTHING. And if they started to explore sexuality topics in s4, in s5,they're NOT going to shy away from that. So how are they going to remain so oblivious about each other's feelings??
7- Not the obvious choice: Like I said at the beginning of this, the idea of them not knowing is the most accepted way that we think this is going to turn out, and I agree that it makes the most sense, but it is the obvious choice. For an even more surprising season, I think having this dynamic between them being more clear not only for us but for them too would be really interesting.
Anyway, I think we can agree that both of them at least had felt hopeful at some point during the show, and in s4, both of them had moments where they felt this could be a possibility. If they thought of that when they're distant from each other, I don't see how they couldn't actually start to consider it again now that they're going to be super close to each other again. I'm not saying those moments could ONLY be interpreted like that, but it's a different perspective of their dynamic that could be surprisingly good to explore in s5.
Having them slowly realize that their feelings are mutual but also being way too insecure/scared about acting on and being held in the middle of the apocalypse could be a great way to create even more tension between them. Just realizing that they love each other might not be the only issue they have to face in order to be together. I think there are going to be a lot of external factors as well, and this dynamic would be a great way to keep the audience really invested in their relationship.
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