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#got all kinds of places for those hands.....
bloodyhoon · 3 days
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7 minutes in heaven.
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pairing: fuck boy! sim jake x female! reader.
genre: smut.
warnings: virgin reader, fuck boy jake is actually a gentleman, kissing, fingering, insecurity, mentions of crying, slight corruption kink. english is not my first language so there may be grammal or spelling errors.
words: 3.8K
note: i didn't plan for this to be so long wtf
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The not-so-little get-together at your best friend's house had become interesting when someone suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven. Everything was calm, several couples had entered and left the small closet, some only came out laughing after the exact 7 minutes that had to pass and others came out somewhat disheveled and with their clothes out of place after more than 7 minutes locked up, clearly showing what they had done and earning shouts and whistles from those outside waiting. Your world came crashing down when the bottle spun and pointed at you on one side and Sim Jaeyun on the other, the hot best friend of the guy your best friend was fooling around with. You all knew that he was a fuck boy, very experienced when it came to girls and casual encounters, every girl who had passed through his bed would speak highly of the boy.
And then there was you, one day everyone just started believing that you were some kind of fuck girl because of a stupid rumor that started spreading at school, but that created a certain reputation for you that you liked so you didn't try to deny it and things simply got out of hand and suddenly everyone said they had sex with you. You personally were not bothered by those rumors because you and your close friends knew perfectly everything about you. And the reality was different, you were a simple virgin terrified of the idea of ​​being intimate with some idiot like the ones your best friend always talked to you about.
"Nice!" the voice of one of the girls in the group sounded over the laughter. "Jaeyun and Y/n, who would have thought? But I don't think it's their first time-"
"Actually it is, but I don't deny having waited for this moment" Jaeyun's voice was a little mocking. You looked up from the bottle in the center of the floor and met his smirk. You fought hard with yourself not to act flustered and blush at the attractive boy. After all, you had a reputation to uphold.
"Well, this game is already boring" Yena spoke with a fake yawn. She of course knew your true personality and your shyness, and she knew that you wouldn't dare be confined in such a small space with the boy. She also didn't want anyone to pressure you into it, so she knew she had to intervene. "Let's better play-"
"Come on, don't ruin the mood like that" the previous girl's voice sounded again. "They also seem very enthusiastic."
"I'm more than ready." Jaeyun leaned back leaning on his hands, waiting for you to deign to speak to him. When you looked at him again, he had one of his eyebrows slightly raised waiting for an answer from you. "Unless she backs down. Are you scared, Y/n?" Silence reigned in the place and everyone turned their heads quickly towards you, waiting for one of your strong sarcastic responses.
"Scared of what? I don't think you have much there that I have to deal with" you looked away, mainly so he wouldn't notice the nervousness in your eyes.
"Do you want to find out?" His tone of voice was provocative, forcing you to return his gaze. Everyone was waiting for your answer and you couldn't give them anything other than what they expected.
"Should I?" you smiled slightly at him. The other teenagers who were already quite drunk made some noises and provocative comments. Jaeyun stood up from his place with a sideways smile on his face and relaxedly putting his hands in his pockets, he pointed at the closet with his head. You sighed and stood up, but the arm of your best friend next to you stopped you, almost making you fall.
“What the hell are you doing, Y/n?” his panicked voice whispered to you, rising above the noises of the crowd. “Are you sure what you're about to do?”
"Damn it, no" you denied several times, closing your eyes. "What did you want me to do? I'd look like a coward-"
"And what are you going to do when you gets in there? He won't-"
"Y/n?" the boy's voice called to you, he was standing by the door of the closet that was for the game, looking bored. "Do you think we have all night? Although, you know I wouldn't mind." He winked at you.
"Okay, wish me luck" you walked away from your best friend showing a false confidence and walked towards the closet, entering with the boy walking behind you. You heard the door close and the sound of voices and laughter suddenly died away.
The space was small, with luck a person would enter next to the shelves full of clothes that were stored. There were some decorations and old toys that used to belong to Yena and her sister. Above the highest shelves, small Christmas lights hung that illuminated little creating a comfortable place. When you turned in your spot, Jaeyun's body leaned over yours and quickly analyzing your expression, he approached and kissed you. Your back hit one of the shelves and Jaeyun cornered you with his body, placing both hands on the sides of your head. Your heart began to beat quickly when his perfume flooded your nose and his lips devoured yours, practically forcing you to follow him, which didn't bother you at all. His lips were soft and had the taste of the sweet drink that everyone had been sharing earlier. His hands went to your waist, hugging you and taking you off the shelves, pressing your body to his. You relaxed a little in his arms when you noticed that he was just kissing and hugging you, and things weren't going to escalate. Or so you thought at the moment. The boy separated from your lips and his hands gently went down the sides of your body, positioning themselves on your hips.
"Do you really want to find out?" he murmured against your red and swollen lips. You didn't know what to answer and your heart continued to beat rapidly while the boy was still attached to your body. "Are you speechless already?" he let out a laugh. Your trembling hands rested on his shoulders and you looked into his dark eyes, which went from your lips to your eyes with deep desire. You let your impulsive thoughts win and you desperately attached your lips to his again, wanting to feel them on you again. He smiled in the middle of that kiss and brought his hands to your butt firmly. You were wearing a short skirt so one of his hands decided to go down the side and gently caressed your thigh, causing your skin to crawl. His lips were still glued to yours while his tongue and yours intertwined with each other. Your hands squeezed his shoulders tightly as his hand slowly began to move up the inside of your thigh.
"Jaeyun-" you broke the kiss and still with your eyes closed you tilted your head back. The boy took advantage of that movement, leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking gently and leaving a purple hickey. Nervousness took over your body and your heartbeat was erratic, you didn't know how to stop the situation that was beginning to get out of hand. You wanted to stop it because you didn't know how things would end, but you were embarrassed to separate him from you and that the boy would find out that you were nothing more than a stupid girl with a false personality. Your eyes filled with tears and a soft sob escaped your lips when his hand brushed your core over your underwear. He pulled away from your neck and looked at you ready to mock you when he heard you, but his expression disfigured when he noticed the nervousness in your body and your teary eyes.
"Y/n?" His hands gently grabbed your arms and he looked at you with concern. You shook your head and threw your head back, closing your eyes in shame. "Why are you crying? What's wrong?" His voice was soft, completely different from that flirtatious tone he used to have whenever he talked to a girl.
"I'm a fake" you whimpered, embarrassed. "I can't do this, I'm not ready" you denied several times. His brow was furrowed while listening to you, but still his hands caressed your arms trying to calm you down.
"Are you-" He thought about his words for a moment, you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes nervously. Your eyes had an innocent gleam that said everything your mouth didn't. His gaze completely scanned your body, which moved uncomfortably in his hands and he separated himself as much as he could from you, although the space was very small. "You're virgin" he didn't ask you, he stated it. He noticed it in your look, he noticed it in your reactions to his touch and the way you had hesitantly reciprocated when he kissed you without warning.
"I'm a liar, but I can't do anything about it, everything got out of hand" you shrugged and looked down at your hands intertwined in front of your skirt. "And this image they have of me gives me a certain... confidence in myself. A confidence that I never had" Jaeyun remained silent as he listened to you and you were dying of anxiety for whatever was next, whatever he was about to say, what would happen when you both got out of there and if he would laugh at you in your face and then tell everyone in the house. You heard him laugh and a knot formed in your stomach, but you snapped your head up when he approached you again and stroked your hair kindly.
"You're so cute" he shook his head several times, not believing the current situation and continued caressing you, forcing you to raise your head. He looked at you tenderly, his eyes with a shine that you had not seen before. The colorful but dim Christmas lights above his head flickered and gave him barely any illumination. It was a beautiful sight in your eyes because the boy was extremely attractive. "You have nothing to worry about, darling and you have nothing to be ashamed of either."
"Yena told me the same thing, but I can't help it, I feel stupid and now that you found out, I feel even stupider" you honestly wanted the earth to open up and swallow you. You didn't know how things would continue from now on, you didn't know what you would do or say when you came out, or what he would say or do too. You were completely nervous and scared, you felt like your teenage life had ended right there.
"Look at me Y/n" he asked you, placing a hand on your jaw and gently lifting your head. You looked him in the eyes again and waited for him to speak. Jaeyun looked at you for a few seconds and then smiled at you. "You can leave and I will make up some story without going into details, anyway it is not difficult to create a scenario with the things I would do with you, you are the hottest girl I have ever seen in my life, although now I can only see your real side that is so innocent and pure." He laughed when, under the dim lights above you, noticed your cheeks turning red. "Or also, you can stay and we can do something about it, give you something to show off and meet the expectations of those waiting for us out there. Also give you a little experience, what do you think? You choose, pretty." His hand rested on your cheek this time and with his thumb he brushed your lower lip.
If your heart was already beating rapidly, it was now out of control. You felt that your legs were shaking and you would fall right there because of nerves. You wanted to stay there with him and see what happened, your curiosity was great but your insecurity was even greater, you were inexperienced in the whole realm of intimacy and he was so experienced that you were embarrassed to do something wrong, but you longed for him to continue kissing you and touching you like no one had ever done before. Neither of you knew how much time had passed since you had entered the closet, but no one had knocked on the door so you didn't worry and continued on your own world. Jaeyun of course noticed how your head was going a mile an hour and caressed your cheek.
"Don't be afraid, if you say yes, we won't do anything you don't want to do and I'll stop when you ask me to" he assured you. He was trying to convince you, but only because he could see in your eyes the desire to stay with him and your body clinging to his involuntarily told him what your mouth didn't. He noticed that you didn't know how to say yes. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, waiting for your positive response. If you hesitated too much, he would simply back away and let you go.
"Please" you didn't try to hide the desperation in your voice that revealed how you wanted to feel his lips on yours again and he smiled sideways, nodding. He leaned over you and joined your mouths together, the kiss was gentle at first, a soft touch of lips testing ground. He brushed the hair from your face and tilted his face to the side, deepening the kiss as your mouths opened slightly and both tongues rubbed against each other. Your hands moved to his shoulders, drawing him closer to you to feel him pressed against your body. His hand went down the side of your body and grabbed your thigh, lifting your leg and positioning one of his legs between yours and lightly rubbing your crotch. It didn't make you uncomfortable, rather it caused shivers to run through your body. Jaeyun could feel your heart pounding against your chest and that also made his heartbeat quicken as he separated from your lips.
"Can I touch you?" The question left his lips like a sigh and you just nodded. "Use your words, baby."
"Yes, touch me" your voice was muffled as you once again felt shame take over your body, but he gave you a short kiss on your lips and smiled tenderly at you. He didn't want to be too intrusive, so his hand slowly entered the bottom of your blouse and caressed your waist, going up with caution and aware of each of your reactions, and brushed the lower part of your breasts. You had skin bristling and your body cold with nerves contrasted against his warm touch as you clung to his shoulders with slightly trembling hands.
"Calm down" he murmured against your lips. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, no" you sighed and denied, convinced. He nodded again and cupped your breast in his hand, feeling your hard nipple underneath your bra. Your legs closed involuntarily and pressed his leg that kept them apart, he lowered his gaze and let out a mocking laugh.
"It seems like you want me to touch another part of you" his tone was mocking, but actually he was still analyzing each of your reactions and he didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed, he just wanted to play with you a little. "Do you want me to touch you there?"
"Yes, please" you responded quickly, your eyes squeezing shut to avoid his gaze. Your reactions drove him crazy, the way you moved desperately in your place and your cheeks were flushed waiting for his touch, how you asked please for everything.
"Just tell me if you want me to stop." he warned you. "Spread your legs a little, princess" you obeyed him and he undoubtedly brought his hand between your legs, caressing the inside of your thighs making you hold your breath as his hand began to go up to your crotch. "Breathe, baby" he giggled and you nodded too, laughing out of nerves. Jaeyun felt calm when he heard you laugh and regularize your breathing, noticing that you were nervous but comfortable with his touch, so with his fingers he touched your pussy over your soaked underwear. His eyes widened with some surprise and his breath caught in his throat. "Damn, why are you so wet?" he felt as if electricity ran through his body and was going to stop straight at his cock. He swallowed hard and focused on you.
"I-" a lump formed in your throat, you were so embarrassed you felt like you were going to cry and he noticed.
"Sh, don't worry" he assured you, with his free hand he caressed your face and kissed your cheek. "This is so hot. The way your body reacted to just a couple of my touches and how much you want me to touch you but your pretty little mouth doesn't dare say it" he left a peck on your lips. "But don't worry beautiful, I will become an expert in your body language." You felt like your heart was going to explode in your chest at his words, his voice and the way he said each sentence while his hand played with the elastic of your underwear. "Excuse me, I'm going to take this off" you nodded and he crouched down in front of you sliding your underwear down your legs, his fingers brushing your skin making it crawl. You didn't know where your underwear was after he stood up again and in front of you because your eyes were squeezed shut. "Open your eyes, Y/n" he asked, you took a deep breath and obeyed him. His eyes had a mischievous gleam as his lower lip was trapped between his teeth, looking at you with lust. He spread your thighs further, forcing you to open your legs a little more and his hand went to your crotch, sliding his fingers easily along the length of your pussy. You pressed your lips tightly, the shock your body gave from the wave of pleasure that grew in you as he caressed you. "It feels good?"
"Mhm" you nodded quickly and pressed your head against the shelves behind you, holding yourself tightly to his body.
"Don't hold back darling, I want to hear you" his fingers moved slowly but rhythmically in your core spreading all your fluids. "Let me hear how good you feel, don't worry about those outside, they must be drunk already and involved in another stupid game again to remember that we are here. Come on, moan for me." his fingertips probed your entrance and his middle finger slowly slid inside you. You couldn't stifle the moan that escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion, you felt strange but it was a pleasant sensation. It's not like you haven't touched yourself before, but his hands and fingers were clearly bigger than yours so it felt different. His fingers moved slowly inside you and you squirmed in place, digging your nails into his shoulders, thankful that he had his shirt on so you wouldn't hurt him, although he wouldn't mind at all.
“Keep going, please” you begged. He slid another finger inside you and your walls clenched as his fingers curled inside you, touching a specific spot that made your body shiver. “It feels good, Jaeyun.” When his name left your lips he felt his cock jerk and he thrust his fingers in and out of you, taking a faster pace inside your tight walls. You continued moaning loudly and this time you looked into his eyes, your eyes had tears and he didn't know if they were from pleasure or pain, so he stopped his movements.
"Relax, pretty" he caressed your face again and again slowly, you nodded and sighed. You both stayed still for a moment, you breathing heavily and him spreading kisses across your face to calm you down.
"Keep going Jaeyun" he put his fingers in you again and this time with his thumb he reached your clit, rubbing it in circles. Your mouth opened and your legs trembled from the strong shock of pleasure that your entire body received. "Oh God-"
"Feels good? Do you like it?"
"Yes, yes. Please" your eyes almost rolled back and your hips moved involuntarily to the rhythm of his hand and he knew you were close to your orgasm. "Don't stop."
"Whatever you ask for, princess" he continued fucking you with his fingers and playing with your clit quickly while in contrast his other hand gently removed the fine hair that fell on your pretty blushing face. "Are you going to cum?"
"Yes!" you almost screamed in pleasure and his fingers tightened in you, your body felt the wave of pleasure explode inside you as your head spun, your legs weakened and Jaeyun wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you tightly as his hand on your pussy slowed down their movements once your body relaxed. Your head fell against his shoulder and he rubbed your back, hugging you to him. "That was incredible" your voice sounded exhausted and you felt his body shake as he laughed. "Thank you" you murmured, separating yourself from him and meeting his dark gaze. Your eyes widened in panic and you stifled a gasp when he brought his fingers glistening with your fluids to his lips and inserted them into his mouth, cleaning them completely with his tongue.
"So sweet" a half smile adorned his face as your cheeks turned even redder. You didn't know where you got the courage from, but you put a hand on the back of his neck and pressed your lips to his, surprising him and causing him to moan that ended up lost between both mouths, while you could faintly feel a hint of the taste of your fluids on his tongue. He separated from you before everything got out of control again and looked at you from head to toe, adjusting your clothes and your hair so you can come out decent.
"M-my underwear?" you asked shyly, feeling very obviously that something was missing under your skirt.
"Ah, no" he shook his head. "It doesn't belong to you anymore, darling." You blinked in shock and then let out a laugh. Your gaze moved down his body and you noticed the very noticeable bulge in his pants.
“Oh, you-” he followed your gaze."Should I-"
"No. Don't worry" he reassured you."The important thing here is that you enjoyed yourself."
"But- I really want to do something about it" you were still shy and he couldn't believe it since minutes before he had his fingers buried inside your pussy and you had ended up trembling in his arms. He also couldn't believe how before entering that closet you had that arrogant look and your head held high, showing yourself confident and having everyone at your feet only to turn out to be all just a facade that hid a shy Y/n completely terrified of everything. Jaeyun definitely wanted to keep seeing those innocent eyes filling with tears from the pleasure your body had never experienced.
"Next time we will do something about it, rest assured" he winked at you and took your hand, you just nodded and followed him when he opened the door and you both left the closet -who knows how long later- and were greeted with extremely out-of-character comments from your friends.
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I feel like this deserves a second part or I just feel like writing even more idk
send me request for zb1, enhypen and stray kids.
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flickering-chandelier · 14 hours
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I Heard Your Voice in a Dream
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader’s village in the Spring Court is destroyed by Hybern (F U Tampon), and she is on her own until Azriel finds her. She feels instantly connected to him, but is not sure why, until one morning when he tells her everything.
(Also my first attempt at duel POV)
Warnings: a smutty ending
Word Count: 6.4k
You were running for your life when Azriel found you. 
After the High Lord of the Spring Court made a deal with the devil to bring back his love that fled from him, life looked much different for you. 
Hybern had attacked your village, destroyed your home and everything you had ever known. Your High Lord was nowhere to be found. Most of the people you knew didn’t make it out. Somehow, you had, but you couldn’t help but wonder… at what cost?
You spent your time wandering the endless green spring, not sure what to do. You had missed the evacuation. Nobody knew you were injured or where you were. By the time you were well enough to walk, you were alone. 
The panic was made worse by the fact that you knew what was in these lands -- monsters that you had no hope of beating should they target you. 
And eventually, they did target you. 
You weren’t sure what kind of creature it was -- just knew that those teeth could rip you to shreds and you wouldn’t be able to outrun it for long. 
But you did run, because what other choice did you have? You ran and ran, not daring to look back. You could hear it gaining on you with every step, until you felt, more than heard, the ground shaking beneath you. 
Suddenly, it was silent, the terrible feet of the monster no longer sounding behind you. You risked a glance back, and saw who must have been a warrior, with enormous black wings spread behind him, wiping off his bloody blade on the grass next to the carcass of the beast.
You stopped running, turning around slowly, studying him as he looked up at you. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, with dark black hair and a completely stoic face, giving away absolutely nothing about what he was thinking. The hard lines of that face terrified you as much as they intrigued you. You realized you were shaking as he walked toward you slowly, as if approaching an injured animal. He was wearing some kind of armor -- all black, with gleaming, glowing circles attached to several points of his body. There were dark tendrils of what looked like smoke circling his arms, his hands. He sheathed his gleaming black blade as he approached you. 
He held his hands out, severely scarred, you noticed, palms facing you as he got closer. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” His deep, commanding voice seemed to echo through the now quiet woods.
You couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t bring your voice to speak.
“What’s your name?” he said softly when he stopped a few feet from you.
You told him, your voice barely above a whisper.
The warrior repeated your name quietly, his hazel eyes softening, then said “I’m Azriel. Are you hurt?”
“I-- I don’t think so.”
Azriel nodded, his eyes scanning your body, as if to confirm it. “What are you doing out here alone?”
You couldn’t help but think that the soft, gentle voice he was now using with you was such a juxtaposition to the fierceness of his armor, his no doubt rock solid body, his massive wings. “I have nowhere to go,” you finally choked out.
His brow furrowed, his eyes swimming with emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Your family?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. The expression on your face seemed to say enough. His jaw tightened as he swallowed.
“Your home?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Destroyed,” you whispered.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, his expression softening as he studied your face. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head, but you couldn’t imagine what he was contemplating. 
“Thank you,” you croaked out eventually. “For saving my life.”
You turned to go, not wanting to inconvenience him further, but his hand grasped your wrist. As you turned around, you noticed his demeanor had completely changed. He staggered back a step, still holding onto you, pulling you forward a bit. Where before he was confident and calming, his eyes were now wide, his mouth open in what could only be shock.
“What is it?” you asked.
Azriel shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “Come with me.”
You didn’t try to hide your surprise. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll manage.”
He moved his grip from your wrist to your hand, holding it carefully in his, as he gazed at your face, his eyes pleading. “You won’t survive out here. My home -- it’s safe. You’ll be safe.”
Contemplating this, you tried to weigh your options. You knew he was right, that you wouldn’t make it for much longer alone out here. You could try to make it to another court, but how long would that take? And what would happen to you if you got there? But, his home, the one he claimed was safe… you had never seen anyone like him before. Never seen anyone as intimidating. Finally, you asked. “Who… are you?”
His cheeks dusted red as he seemed to grapple for the right words. “I work for the High Lord of the Night Court,” he said carefully.
Unconsciously, you took a step back, pulling your hand from his grasp.
Azriel’s eyes flared. If you didn’t know better you would think it was panic. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice steady despite his body language.
“The Night Court?” you felt your heart beating faster. Why did your savior have to be from there, of all places? The only thing worse than these woods would be the Court of Nightmares, where not just the High Lord, but the people were brutal and malicious.
“If you just saw it, you would understand,” he said, taking a careful step towards you again. “I will keep you safe, I swear it.” His eyes remained pleading in a way that you couldn’t comprehend.
“Why?” you asked, trying to make sense of this warrior before you. “Why do you care so much?”
He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. Finally, he said with all the sincerity in the world, “I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you here.”
You sighed, trying to think. As if reading your thoughts he said, “You either trust me or be eaten by something out here.”
He was right. You knew he was. Still, you couldn’t stop the fear that lodged in your throat as you turned back to him and said resignedly, “Okay. Take me with you.”
---
Azriel tried to keep his breathing steady as the two of you made it to the townhouse in Velaris. He knew he would have a lot of explaining to do. 
He watched your eyes widen as you took in the sight around you. Children laughing, people walking and talking, seemingly without a care in the world. A bustling city nestled between the mountains of the Night Court. 
“Where… are we?” you asked. Your voice had not yet risen to a normal volume in the short time that he had known you.
Azriel didn’t know how much to tell you. He would likely already be in hot water just for bringing you here. “The Night Court,” he said, trying to keep his voice bland. “Sort of.”
You gaped at him. 
Azriel winced as you neared the front door. “I hate to do this. But, I need you to wait out here.”
Your eyes only widened. “You’re going to leave me?” 
His heart cracked a bit at your words. “It should only be a few minutes. I told you, it’s safe here.”
You scowled, crossing your arms, but finally said, “Okay.”
Azriel nodded once, took a deep breath, and walked inside. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhysand were all in the living room. Rhys was laughing at something Feyre said. All eyes looked to you as you stepped into the threshold. 
“You’re back early,” Rhys said.
“I need to talk to you,” Azriel said to Rhysand, his voice sounding off, even to his own ears. “Alone.”
The others looked between the two of you curiously. Rhysand rose, masking his surprise, and gestured to his study.
When they were alone, Azriel didn’t know what to say, how to start. Finally, Rhysand had to say “What’s going on, Az?”
Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “When I got to the Spring Court, there was a woman. Running through the woods, from a bogge.”
“Okay,” Rhys drawled.
“I saved her, obviously. But, Rhys, you should have seen her. She was terrified and alone. I think she’s from the village that Hybern attacked.” 
Rhysand raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Azriel held his gaze. “She’s my mate, Rhys.”
The High Lord swore. “You brought her here, didn’t you?”
“What was I supposed to do? She would’ve died out there.”
Rhysand nodded, processing the information. “It was a risk, bringing her here.”
“I know it was,” Azriel said, unwilling to apologize, not for saving his mate’s life.
Despite the danger Azriel had put them in, Rhysand smiled at his brother. “You found your mate.”
Azriel nodded. He hadn’t really processed the information yet.
“Does she know?” Rhys asked.
“No. She’s going through enough right now.”
Rhysand nodded again. “Just be careful. You know how it went when Feyre found out before I told her.”
“I know.” 
“So,” Rhys said, leaning against his desk. “I guess we let her stay in the House of Wind. She can find her own place later, if she wants.”
Azriel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Really.” 
---
True to his word, Azriel was back a few minutes later. You were still shocked, trying to make sense of the day. How could this place be a part of the Night Court?
“I can take you to your room now, if you’re ready,” he said by way of greeting. 
“My room?” What, in his house? 
“Unless you want a tour of the city first? I figured you’d be tired,” he said naturally, as if he were speaking about the weather. 
You couldn’t help but gawk at him. “I get a room?”
“Yes,” he said, as if it were obvious.
“Okay,” you said cautiously. “Sure, let’s go to… my room.”
He cleared his throat, taking a tentative step toward you. “We’ll have to fly.”
You just blinked at him. Surely, he didn’t mean…?
He motioned toward you. “May I?”
Resolved, you said, “At this point, why not?” 
The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before carefully, he swept you up in his arms, glancing at your face before flapping his mighty wings, taking the two of you up over the city, toward a large mountain.
You clung to him, your stomach twisting in knots, until he landed gently on a balcony on the top of the mountain.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he set you on the ground.
You nodded, looking past him into the formal dining room inside. “Where are we?”
“This is one of the High Lord’s residences in the city. He doesn’t really stay here with us,” he said, opening the door and leading you inside. 
“Us?”
“Me and a few others that you’ll meet. His inner circle.”
Again, you felt that fear spike through your body. The High Lord of the Night Court. His inner circle. What had you gotten yourself into?
As if sensing your fear, he stopped and faced you, looking at you intently. “The stories you’ve heard… they’re not real. At least, not in the context that you think.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to form a response. But, surprisingly, you wanted to trust him, this man who saved your life. 
When he realized that you weren’t going to say anything, he cocked his head, motioning for you to follow him through the house. You silently obeyed, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. 
Finally, he stopped before a room, shouldering the door open and gesturing for you to step inside first. It was more lavish than any room you’d seen in your village in the Spring Court. The four poster bed was huge in the center of the room. To the right was a sitting area with two chairs and a couch, cozy looking rugs, and through an open door you could see a washroom. It was more inviting than you had expected. 
“Will this be alright?” Azriel asked as you surveyed the room.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, this should be just fine.”
He smiled faintly. “I’m just a few doors down, if you need anything.”
“You’re leaving?” you asked, for the second time that day.
Hesitating by the door, he said, “I thought you’d like some time to unwind. I imagine it’s been quite a day for you.”
You nodded, but couldn’t help the pang you felt at being left alone again. Azriel was starting to feel like all you had in the world. 
After studying you for a beat, he said, “I can come back in an hour? Give you some time to settle in?”
You couldn’t stop the small smi']le that tugged at your lips. “Okay.”
---
An hour later, Azriel was knocking on your door, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. This morning, he was leaving for the Spring Court to check on how Tamlin had been handling things, and now his mate was staying a few doors down, with no idea where she was or anything about him. 
The breath was knocked right out of him as you opened the door. You had changed into leggings and a sweater, the shape of your legs on full display, your hair, slightly damp, was falling loose in ringlets over your shoulders. 
An angel, he thought. You looked like an angel. 
“I’m glad you gave me that hour,” you admitted, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel felt faint. “I haven’t had a real bath in ages.”
Clarity struck his brain again at the reminder of what you had been through, how you had been living since the attack on your home. His heart ached for you. He wanted to rip Hybern apart with his bare hands.
“Do you want the tour?” he asked, dumbly, trying to stomp down his emotions,
You agreed, and he led you through the halls, the tug in his chest dazing him. He ached to reach for your hand, to bring your body into his. How had Rhys endured all that time with Feyre, feeling like this?
As you walked through the house, you started asking questions, and Azriel answered to the best of his ability. He told you about Velaris, how secret it was, why it had been kept a secret. The Court of Nightmares, the lies they had to spin. He explained that he was the Night Court’s spymaster, explained his shadows, his shadowsinger abilities, his wings. He didn’t give a ton of details, not wanting to overwhelm you, but not wanting to lie either.
You told him of your past, too. Of your life with your family before Hybern, your cottage, your friends. None of them had survived the attack. Azriel clenched his fists as you spoke, marveling at how kind and reserved you were, despite the horrors that you had been through.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the direction of the dining room and he winced. He would have to bring you to dinner, to face the entire group. Azriel knew that Rhys had relayed the information by now about his… guest. That was why they had all insisted on coming to dinner, to scope you out.
He felt guilty about keeping you out of the loop, that everyone would know that you were his mate. But you knew how much pressure could be put on females to give into their mates. He would never do that to you, he wanted you to have a choice. 
He would just have to wait until you were settled, until you knew that you were safe with him. 
You looked at him questioningly, and he simply said, “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner.” 
“Dinner…” you trailed off, a question in your eyes.
“With everyone. Yeah.”
Your eyes widened and he couldn’t help himself. He took your hand in his like he did in the woods, what had made the bond snap into place. “It’ll be okay. They’re good people.”
You looked skeptical, but nodded, moving a bit closer to him. He swore he felt his heart miss a beat. 
Azriel led you to the dining room, still holding your hand. At the threshold of the room, you dropped his hand and stood behind him, peaking around his shoulder at the loud group. He could tell you were frightened, and wanted desperately to hold you, to take the fear away.
He cleared his throat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked at his friends sternly, willing them to behave, at least for tonight, before he introduced you to them. 
You remained behind him, creeping out the littlest bit, placing your hand gently on his bicep. He looked back at you, trying to calm you down like he had in the woods. 
“Come on,” he murmured, lightly placing his hand on your arm and guiding you to your seat. You followed, your body taut. 
Azriel introduced you to Cassian, Mor, Elain, Nesta, and Amren. You stayed silent, wide eyed, no doubt realizing the power in the people around you. Finally, he gestured to Rhys and Feyre. “And this is the High Lord and Lady.”
Your eyes widened further then, taking in Feyre. “High Lady,” you murmured, in awe. 
Right. The High Lady. Feyre was the one who had tore the Spring Court apart from the inside out. Azriel hadn’t even thought of that, and watched your reaction. 
Feyre smiled at you kindly and Rhys looked extremely proud. “Honestly, that… that’s amazing. A High Lady,” you repeated. Azriel let out the breath he was holding.
“We sure think so,” Rhys smirked, his eyes sliding warmly to Feyre.
Azriel could feel some of the tension leave your body, and he nearly slumped with relief. 
Your reaction seemed to please his friends, too. Azriel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. 
Throughout the course of dinner, you had remained silent, your doe eyes taking in everything before you. Azriel was hyper aware of you beside him, trying to sense your every reaction. 
After dinner, Azriel walked you back to your room, pausing at the door. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“I think I’m okay,” you said. “It’s not what I expected.”
Azriel nodded. “In a good way?”
You smiled lightly up at him. He nearly fell over. “Everyone seems… normal. Like a family.”
Azriel smiled faintly. “They are. We are a family.”
Studying his face, you stayed silent for a moment. “Thank you,” you whispered.
He squeezed your shoulder gently, feeling his heart constrict at your vulnerability. “Sleep well. Come get me if you need anything, okay?”
You nodded, still smiling slightly as you went inside and gently closed the door behind you.
---
Despite your exhaustion, you lay awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, your mind spinning. A family. That’s what this was, all of these powerful fae in one room, the mightiest warriors, the most fearsome High Lord… talking and teasing and laughing at dinner. 
You had felt Azriel’s eyes on you, gauging your reactions. 
Azriel. He was what was truly keeping you up, you thought. The most beautiful man with the scarred hands and the siphons, you had learned, that helped him harness his unbelievable power, the apparently legendary blade at his side. And yet, the way he watched you, the way his voice changed when he spoke to you…
You couldn’t help but trust him, feeling safe next to him. He had saved your life, after all. It was that thought that was wisping through your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep. 
---
The first night in your new bed, you had slept through the night once you were finally able to sleep, too exhausted from the events of the day to be chased by monsters in your dreams. 
The second night was a different story. 
You didn’t even realize you had been screaming until scarred hands were shaking you awake, hazel eyes so close to yours, full of worry and protectiveness, saying your name over and over until your eyes cleared. 
Azriel’s fingers were rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It was just a dream,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his rough hand when you had stopped trembling.
“I’m sorry,” you croaked, tears springing to your eyes. 
He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb, not taking his eyes off you for a second. “For what?” his voice was husky from sleep.
“Waking you,” you whispered, captivated by his hands on you, his eyes swimming with emotion. 
“Don’t be sorry,” he said gently, his thumb still absently stroking your cheek. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, not trusting your voice to be audible enough for him to hear.
“Do you want -- I can stay. If you want. Until you fall back to sleep,” he said hesitantly. You hadn’t known him long, but you imagined it was rare for him to stumble over his words like this.
“You don’t have to do that,” you said quietly, though you felt your heart swell at the offer. “I appreciate it, but… I’m sure the spymaster needs sleep.”
The corner of his mouth turned up into a faint smile as he pulled back from you, settling in the armchair against the wall. “I’m used to staying up because I’m the spymaster,” he said, humor lining his voice.
“You’ve already done so much for me--”
His voice was still soft, but added a commanding edge as he cut you off. “Sleep, my lady. I don’t mind.”
You considered protesting again, but knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere. And honestly… it did make you feel better to have his comforting presence in the room, chasing away all of your invisible demons.
---
It didn’t take long for your breathing to go steady, lost in a deep sleep. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to leave you yet, though. 
The sound of your terrified shrieks ran over and over in his mind. He had been protective of people before, of course, but this. The terror he could feel radiating off of you, the tears streaming down your face, the look in your eyes before you realized where you were… his hands gripped the armrests so tightly that he worried you might not have a chair in your room tomorrow. 
He focused on you now: your peaceful face, your hair draped across the pillow, your breathing even. It calmed him down slightly, but not enough.
Azriel wanted to stay. Just to be sure that you were alright, to ensure that he would be able to stop the nightmares before they escalated this time, but he did not want to invade your privacy. He knew that you probably wouldn’t be happy to find him still sitting there in the morning. 
So, after you had been sleeping peacefully for quite some time, he dragged himself out of the chair and silently went to his own room, where he could not sleep at all, those screams rattling around in his mind.
---
Azriel stayed by your side for weeks after you arrived in the Night Court, only leaving, seemingly, when he absolutely had to. The two of you would relax in the library, raid the kitchen, wander around the streets in Velaris that seemed endless to you, in the best way. Despite everything that you had heard of the Night Court and its inhabitants, you were starting to feel at home there. Though you still were extremely intimidated by everyone except Azriel, and couldn’t imagine spending time with any one of them if he wasn’t present. 
Though you were starting to adjust to your new life, you continued to wake Azriel so consistently with your nightmares that you wondered if you should just offer to let him sleep next to you. Of course, you knew you couldn’t possibly do that. Your cheeks flushed at just the thought. Guilt gnawed at you though, for being the reason for his lack of sleep, so much so that you offered to switch rooms, somewhere further from him, but he would hear none of it. Nearly every night he came into your room, shaking you awake, then soothing you back to sleep. You couldn’t imagine how he was functioning on so little rest.
One night was particularly bad. You dreamt of the attack on your village, the bloodshed you saw, the terror you felt. You knew Azriel could sense that it was worse than usual, as he wouldn’t take his soothing hands from your arms until you had stopped trembling, which took significantly longer than it normally did. His eyes were filled with more worry than you had seen before, and when he pulled away from you, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and gently grabbing his wrist. 
His eyes widened a bit in surprise as he turned back to face you, but he said nothing. 
“Can you come here?” Your quiet voice cracked on the last word and his jaw ticked at the sound. 
He approached you slowly, like he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. “What can I do?” he murmured. 
“Can you -- I mean, would it be too weird…” you flushed, unable to get the words out.
Comprehension flooded his expression and you were so embarrassed that you wanted to take it all back, but then his eyes softened with so much warmth that you wanted to cry. “You want me to lay with you for a bit?”
You bit your lip. “Would you?”
The ghost of a smile. Your heart melted.
You scooched over to the far side of the bed before he settled into next to you, agonizingly slowly. He faced you, propping his cheek on his fist. “Is this okay?”
You could only nod, concealing half your face with your sheets in an attempt to hide how red your cheeks had no doubt become. The heat radiated off his body, his shadows nowhere to be found in the dim light. 
He smiled faintly as you looked at him. He murmured, “you have to close your eyes to sleep, you know.”
More heat rose to your cheeks. “You could sleep too. You don’t have to stay up and guard me.”
His smile grew. “Isn’t that literally what I’m here for?”
“You’re here for…” you contemplated how much you should tell him. “Your comforting presence,” you finally said. 
“You find my presence comforting?” he said, his voice losing that teasing note he had been using moments before.
“Of course I do,” you said, slightly mesmerized by those hazel eyes that rarely left yours.
His expression was unreadable as he studied you for another moment before laying down and murmuring, “Go to sleep.”
So, you did.
---
Azriel could not sleep.
His mate. His mate, who flooded his thoughts day in and day out, whose tug on him drove him mad every waking moment, was in bed with him. And she had no idea what she was. Or what he desperately wanted to do to her.
Your comforting presence. 
The words drifted around his mind ceaselessly. He was willing to bet that his mate was one of the only people who would ever feel that way. Most people feared him, or were at least wary of the near-silent shadowsinger.
But, his mate… 
Azriel’s eyes whipped to you as your breathing changed, ready to wake you up again if need be. He watched the rise and fall of your chest carefully, before it evened out again and he relaxed back against the mattress. 
He would have to tell you. Soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this, without having any idea how you felt about him. 
He thought of you, as he always did lately, when he finally drifted off to sleep. 
---
Strong arms were holding you when you awoke. Before you were fully conscious, you snuggled further into the warmth. Mother only knew how long it had been since you had felt that safe. 
It wasn’t until you heard the grumble of a sleepy male behind you that your eyes sprung open and you realized where you were. You were in your bed, faint sunlight shining through the curtains. And the shadowsinger was behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle, your bodies flush together, his breath tickling your neck. 
You were spooning. Azriel was spooning you. 
And he wasn’t awake yet.
Mother above and Cauldron save me.
Should you pull away? You didn’t exactly want to. And it had been so long since he had gotten a good night’s rest, thanks to you. 
Selfishly, you couldn’t bear to leave those arms. So, you did what any rational person would do. You pretended you were still asleep and savored the feeling of the strong warrior’s body pressed against yours.
It was a little while later when he shifted and stiffened. He was awake. 
Carefully, he untangled himself from you, backing up to where he had started the night. After a moment, you turned around, to face him, feigning grogginess. 
He was gazing at you, his expression more open than you had ever seen it. His eyes swimmed with something that looked like longing. Or maybe that’s just what you hoped it was.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. It made your toes curl beneath the sheets.
“I slept really well, actually,” you said, honestly. “Did you get to sleep?”
He nodded, his expression smoothing back to that unreadable blankness. 
“Thank you for staying,” you said softly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Azriel’s eyes softened. “I don’t know what I would do without you, either.”
You sat up a bit, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Me? What do you mean?”
He furrowed his brow, as if he were contemplating whether to tell you something or not. 
“Is something wrong?” you asked. 
He swallowed, his jaw clenched slightly. “There’s something I should tell you.”
You just waited, gazing at that beautiful face.
Taking a deep breath, his eyes not wavering from yours, he said, “That day, when I touched you in the woods, I realized that you’re my mate.”
If you weren’t in your bed, you’re sure you would have fallen over. Your heart started pounding and you sat up fully, now very aware of the thin night clothes you were wearing. 
Azriel sat up too, studying, trying to gauge your reaction. 
“That’s why you were so adamant about bringing me with you,” you said quietly, your mind reeling. 
He nodded. “To be fair, I might have done that anyway, but… yes. I couldn’t leave you there.”
You watched his hazel eyes looking back at you. You had been right before, you could see that now. He wanted you. Longed to be close to you. 
“That’s why I feel so connected to you,” you whispered, noting that tug in your chest that is always leading you to him. “Why you always make me feel so safe.”
His expression flooded with emotion. “You really feel that way around me?”
“Of course I do. Since the very beginning,” you said, inching closer to him, so your legs were almost touching. You couldn’t quite believe it. 
Azriel was your mate. The sweet, mysterious, strong spymaster from the Night Court who saved your life. Who had given you a home.
He was your home, you realized with a start. 
“Are you…happy?” Azriel asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. 
He had been worried, you realized. Worried that you would be upset, or wouldn’t return his feelings. 
Without a word, you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him.
You felt the relief rush through his body as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to him. You settled on his lap, straddling him, deepening the kiss. 
He moaned quietly into your mouth as he slipped his tongue inside and you tightened your grip on him, raking your nails down his back. You felt his hardness pressing against your leg, and flushed at that feeling of being wanted.
His rough hands trailed up your bare thighs, toying with the hem of your nightdress. He stopped kissing you long enough to pull back, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded, smiling, and kissed him fiercely before he slowly pulled the dress up and over your head, his eyes raking your body, now completely bare save for your underwear.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling, before he kissed sensually down your neck. Then lower and lower…
You gasped as he took your nipple in his mouth, biting gently before soothing over the peak with his tongue. 
“Azriel,” you moaned, and he growled in response, tightening an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your back, pressing your body into the mattress with his.
“You never answered my question,” he said, his voice husky, desperate. He toyed with one of your breasts while he devoured your neck, biting and licking and kissing.
“What… what was the question?” you panted, your mind spinning. 
He laughed into your skin, low and sensual, making your back arch. “Are you happy?”
You took your face in his hands, guiding him to look at you. His fingers stopped, his eyes open and yearning. “I’m home, Az. You’re my home. I’ve never been happier.”
His smile lit up his entire face, and he kissed you sweetly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he murmured. 
He continued kissing you slowly and lovingly before the two of you got heated again. You tugged at his shirt and he helped you peel it off. He leaned against you, and you reveled in the feeling of his skin against yours, the feel of his muscled back under your fingers.
Your breath got stuck in your throat as he kissed down your body while sliding your panties down your legs, eventually settling his face in between your legs, his mouth hovering an inch from where you needed him. 
“Az,” you groaned, twining your fingers in his hair. 
You could’ve sworn you heard a soft grunt before his mouth connected with your center and you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 
“We’re the only ones here, you know,” he said, eyeing you mischievously, sliding a finger into you while his mouth was occupied.
“Meaning?” you panted.
He smirked, sliding another finger into you. You gasped, your back arching off the mattress. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he said, his voice velvet. 
Before you could react, he ducked his head back down, sucking hard on your clit, while pumping his fingers in and out of you. 
You couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you, tugging at his hair, pulling him further into you.
Laughing into your skin, he splayed his free hand over your stomach to stop your squirming and continued devouring you.
Eventually, you needed more. “Azriel?” 
“Hmm?” he mumbled, his mouth still working.
“If you don’t take your pants off right now, I might die,” you said, your voice breathy.
He finally took his mouth off you, leaning his head back and laughing louder than you’d ever seen from him. The sound was deep, filling the room. It made your heart swell.
Sliding off the bed, his eyes laser focused on you, he said “I suppose I can’t allow that, can I?” 
He held your gaze as he slowly slid his pants off. When he was naked before you, he stalked towards you, his eyes predatory. 
You gulped, trying not to show how surprised you were at the size of him.
Azriel was smirking, more smug than you’d ever seen him. He placed his elbows on either side of your head, hovering over you. “Was there something you wanted?” he teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge.
You scowled at him and he grinned. “You know what I want,” you groaned.
He cocked his head, feigning ignorance. 
“You were so much nicer before,” you mumbled, still trying and failing to pull his muscled body on top of yours. 
Leaning his lips down so they were hovering just over yours, he whispered, “I want you to say it.”
Your mouth fell open. “I can’t,” you squeaked.
He smirked. “I’m your mate. You can tell me anything.”
Sighing, you looked to the ceiling, unable to look him in the eyes. “I want you.”
“You already have me,” he said, lightly nipping at your throat. “What do you want me to do?”
“Azriel.”
He laughed lightly. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to take a guess then.” 
Before you could respond, he slid into you, groaning as he did so. 
He leaned his forehead against yours, forcing you to look up at him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him, saying “Did I guess correctly?”
Biting your lip, you nodded and he grinned. 
“Ready for more?”
You groaned in response, unable to speak.
Slowly, he started moving in and out of you. The two of you moaned in unison.
He groaned, “You feel --”
“So good,” you finished, and he let out a breathy laugh, moving his hips faster. 
Azriel was gazing at you with so much love and affection as he was moving in and out of you, you could barely breathe. You placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled against your mouth, his breathing ragged. 
You couldn’t believe you had eternity to do this with your mate. 
---
Azriel did not leave your bedroom that day. Frankly, he never wanted to leave it again.
He knew he probably could’ve kept going long into the night, but he could tell that you needed a break, so the two of you had settled against the pillows. You were now asleep, your head on his chest, your fingers lightly gripping his waist. 
His heart swelled as he lightly ran his fingers through your hair, savoring the feeling of being in love and having you close to him. 
He never wanted to let go.
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bountydroid · 2 days
Text
Darlin' pt 4
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pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 /
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)
Description: Reader realizes her growing feelings for her traveling companion in Filly.
Notes: Okay, so I am SO proud of this part. Please let me know what you guys think. 
TW: Kinda angsty at the end.
"Find somethin' to do," Cooper says as he makes himself comfortable on a chair, watching the store across from him carefully. 
I huffed and crossed my arms before looking around. "A new shirt would be nice." I thought to myself as I looked down at my mud-covered clothing.
"You got any extra caps?" I asked, leaning up against the side of his chair.
"No." He responds shortly. 
I hummed in response. Just as I started to walk away I felt him grab my wrist, "Don't get into any trouble darlin'." He said, smirking, "Wouldn't want a repeat of last time. You'll scare away my target." 
Embarrassment crept up into my cheeks, "I'll be good." I mumbled. I was not sure If I was telling that to myself or him. Probably both to be honest, but it seemed to satisfy him as he let go of my arm. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up this job for him. He was finally warming up to me, and the idea of ruining that ate at the back of my mind.
Filly was an interesting town. It was packed to the brim with fiends and travelers alike. I couldn't help the nervousness that settled in my stomach as I got farther and farther away from my newfound companion. I felt safe with him, safer than I have ever felt in my life. Most people would think that strange. Safe with a ghoul? I thought back to the man who called me a freak for being with the ghoul as I blushed. He thought we were together. A couple. Butterflies found their way into my stomach as I thought about the possibility. Romance was something that I never thought I would experience beyond the tattered books my brother got me from a wandering trader.
"Stop being stupid, Y/n. He doesn't want you." I thought to myself.
Without any caps, I decided to find a place to sit and lay low. I was determined to stay out of trouble, so I found a nice tree to sit up against while I watched all the people go by. I found watching all the different kinds of people walk through extremely interesting. All different types of hair colors, hairstyles, clothing, and weapons. Not to mention odd couples, siblings, and partners. All the new experiences were overwhelming. I found myself sitting there watching for longer than expected. After I had my fill, I got up from the tree and started heading back to Cooper. 
"Right where I left you," I said to myself as his sitting form became clear. He had his hat covering most of his face, I assumed it was to avoid detection. The last town made it very clear that ghouls were not welcome.
As I made my over to him I saw his head tilt and his eyes peer up at me from under his hat. I smiled at him, "No trouble here."
He snorted in response as his eyes flickered over to the men wrestling each other across the way. "You might be the only one darlin'."
I leaned up against his chair again, letting some weight off of my feet. "My feet are-" I start to say before a person caught my eye. Her unique outfit and soft hair made her stand out from the rest of the crowd. 
"A vaultie," Cooper responds, anticipating my question before it even forms.
"Those are real?" I gasp before leaning forward, wanting to get closer to her. 
"Yeah, they are real." Cooper sighed as his hand shot back up to my arm. "Don't talk to her."
I frown but I keep quiet as I continue to watch her. He then kicked my foot gently to draw my attention back to him. "I mean it, darlin'."
"Fine," I say sighing as she disappears into the shop across the way. I felt sadness creep into my stomach as his hand dropped down to his lap and went back to fiddling with an empty Radaway bottle. The butterflies from earlier returned as I thought about his touch. I bit my lip as I stared up at the sky.
"What has gotten into me?" I thought to myself.
We stayed there in silence for some time before a man and a dog came into town, making his way to the same shop the vaultie was in. I recognized him from the drawing. It was the bounty. I shifted in anticipation as he started making conversation with the vaultie at the front door.
"So now what?" I whispered, excitement laced in my voice. 
"Now... you find somewhere to hide," Cooper said back. "And you don't come out till' I say so, got it?"
I frowned, confused. "Hide?" 
"They ain't gonna let me just take him, darlin'." He responded, shifting in his seat as he readied for action.
The implication was clear. There was going to be another shootout. Not only was I unarmed, but I was unfamiliar with weapons altogether. Hiding was definitely the best course of action for me. 
"Right," I said as I looked around before making my way behind one of the buildings.
Once I was finally out of view I heard Cooper's familiar voice, "Whilzig!" He shouted.
I peeked around the corner to see him walking up to the bounty. At this point, they were too far away for me to hear. I could tell that the people of the town now saw him for what he was as all eyes were on him, a ghoul. "That is a lot of people." I thought to myself. I was starting to worry.
"Now last night a bounty came in through all six agencies!" He shouted again. 
I whipped back around and pressed myself to the building taking deep breaths as I tried to tamp down the panic in my chest. Once the first gunshot rang out I could hear the townspeople scrambling. "Maybe no one will give him any trouble?" I thought to myself. I was being naive again, but I didn't care.
"I got a thousand bottle caps for whoever kills that fucker!" I heard a woman scream out. "But you don't get shit if I kill him first."
"Shit," I whispered. I took one last deep breath before I peeked back around the building. I watched as Cooper moved in a circle, taking count of all the men lining up to fight for those caps. Our eyes met for a moment. While my eyes were filled with fear, his eyes were filled with confidence. He gave me a small smirk before continuing to circle around, waiting for someone to be brave enough to take a shot. 
Once the shots started, all hell broke loose. I could hear wood breaking and bodies being thrown. Some of the ammunition even made its way through the buildings and out the other side. 
In defense, I curled up in a ball on the ground. I was so worried about him that I didn't even realize that I could be shot too.
When there was a brief pause in gunfire, I fought the temptation to look out again. "Don't come out till I say so." His words echoed in my head.
As the shots started up again, I felt something pierce my arm. I fought the urge to shout in pain as tears started to run down my face. One of the men's shots went through the building and into my arm. I look down to see a nail and some wood splinters sticking out of me. 
"Fuck." I whimpered as I cradled the wound trying to take deep breaths.
As I did my best to steady my breathing I heard a robotic voice say, "She said stand down ghoul."
I look around the corner to see a knight making his way towards Cooper, "Knight Titus of the Brotherhood of Steel. Stand down, or be cut down."
I couldn't hear Cooper's response, but I saw a look of disbelief and amusement on his face. 
"Just do what he says, please," I whisper to myself. "Cooper." Just as I finish saying his name he lifts his gun at the girl and the knight makes a run towards her, jumping in front of her to take the bullet. 
I squeeze my teary eyes together as I turn back around. If Cooper was going to be killed by this knight. I didn't want to see it. 
Gunshots rang out again, this time it was just Cooper and the knight. To distract myself I looked back down at my arm, still bleeding. I had no idea what to do so I decided to pull the nail out. I took a deep breath in anticipation before giving it a good, hard yank. I couldn't help the loud cry that escaped my mouth. At the same time, I heard a body fly into some wood nearby. "It's not Cooper, it's not Cooper," I repeated over and over again as I fussed over my arm. 
"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but it's hard to walk upstairs while wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." Cooper chuckled.
Relief flooded my body when I heard his voice. The sudden sounds of bullets, explosions, and crashing filled my ears. I closed my eyes tight as I waited for it all to stop.
Eventually, I heard the knight flying overheard, clearly having lost control of his suit. It was over. 
"Y/n?" I heard Cooper yell out. 
I unsteadily got up on my feet and shuffled out from behind the building, still cradling my arm. "I am here."
As his eyes raked me over and stopped at my arm a look of concern washed over his face. He jogged over to take a closer look.
"I'm okay." I try and convince him as he gently touches my wound. 
"Those crocodile tears suggest otherwise, sugar." Cooper responds, giving me a small smile. "Let's find you a stimpack."
I nod my head as he wraps his arm protectively around me and guides me towards the shop. He only lets go when we reach the dog, wounded and whining on the ground. He gently picks it up and brings it into the shop with us. After putting the dog down on the table, he starts to rummage through the junk in the shop. 
"There's gotta be one around here somewhere." He mumbles. 
Between sniffles I say, "When you find one, give it to the dog."
He lets out a small chuckle as he finally finds what he's looking for. "Well lucky for us I found two."
"And the bounty?" I ask as he makes his way towards me.
"Ah, I'll get him," Cooper says, brushing off my concerns before he quickly stabs me with the needle.
"Ouch!" I whine as he rubs my arm while shushing me.
"You are okay, Darlin'." He coos.
"The dog-" I start.
"I got the dog." Cooper interrupts before giving the dog the other stimpack, petting his head gently. A smile erupts across his face as the dog pops up, immediately feeling better. "There."
I smile wide as I watch him with the dog. "You like dogs."
He looks over at me still smiling as his eyes flicker over to my arm. The wound was healed and I am no longer cradling it, the pain completely gone. "Feelin' better?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
All the feelings I had experienced during the shootout came flooding back to me as my smile faded. I felt overwhelmed with sadness, fear, and relief. "I-" I started as tears filled my eyes. 
"I was so worried about you!" I cried out as I ran towards him and wrapped my arms around him. 
Faster than it took to wrap my arms around him, I felt him rip me off. He dug his fingers into my shoulders as he held me at arm's length, shaking me gently. "Don't." He said sternly.
Embarrassment washed over me as I stared down at my feet. "I-"
"Just, don't." He interrupted, sighing before releasing me. "We will wait here until nightfall and then we'll follow Whilzig's trail. See if you can find anything useful around here while we wait."
"Okay," I whispered in response before shuffling to the other end of the store. The rejection stung so deeply that I could barely focus on what I was looking at. Right when he started to warm up to me, I ruined it.
tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay
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garfunklefield · 1 day
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Could you do cult leader! geto I’m so feral for this like he doesn’t care about his followers but reader is just so pretty and he wants to make her his lover for the whole cult to see PLS IM FERAL N I LOVE YOUR WRITING <3
Red Ink
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18+ viewer discretion is advised
fem!reader/cult leader!Suguru Geto Warnings: angst, pining, slowish burn not really, selling and technically kidnapping, the reader has a sad backstory KAY [implied physical abuse], age gap [Geto is 37 and reader is 24], forbidden romance, im gonna make the reader sassy dx, alternate AU where Geto is a cult leader but it's set in more of an ancient time YOULL SEE [kind of like my happy marriage], bathtub masturbation, bathtub sex, sexual tension, cumshot [breasts], masochist!Suguru Geto, hair pulling, Word count: 7221 DESC: Suguru Geto never thought about giving a monkey who couldn't wield jujutsu a chance ... until he met you.
Hiii!!! I just got sick so please be patient my posts might get spaced out for a bit until I recover but I really like this! I took a few [A LOT] creative liberties when writing :3
If you want a guarantee I will write and post your request in a timely fashion head over to my Ko-Fi!
Every morning it was the same routine. Suguru would wake up at 7:45 AM every morning to an empty bed, with the lights a dull orange color. They hung from the room's corners and lit up just enough to let him peer around. He slowly forced himself off the squeaky mattress, becoming accustomed to the sensation of the cold wood against his bare feet. A breath of air flowed through his nose as his hand lazily trailed through his robes, hanging in his large closet. There were so many to choose from, all almost the same. Although, some details were different. Blue trim vs yellow, or a red pattern vs green. In all honesty, he never cared much about his appearance. As long as he wouldn’t have to leave, he didn’t mind his daughters or servants doing the shopping for him. Maybe that’s why the leader's hair was too long to manage, so he would lazily put half of it up in a semi-orderly bun. 
All of these people, and Suguru Geto was completely and utterly alone. He had no one who understood why he decided to become the leader of the Star Religious group so young, almost twenty years ago, at the ripe age of seventeen. All of his innocence was lost at such an age that he could feel a bitter taste rising on the back of his tongue. Bile. The taste of regret. Sometimes he looked out the window to some of the convent’s children playing in the courtyard, and he wished he had found a partner to aid him on his journey. No one ever caught his eye, no one ever piqued his interest. No one like … 
Suguru shook his head and blinked a few times, sending himself out of an impending spiral and instead leaving it for another day. He looked over to his robes, where his hand clung to his signature robe, yellow trim with a green pattern sewn to the front. There was something so comforting about this robe. Maybe because it was the first one ever made for him by his monkey servants, the only monkeys he’d ever let near his person without choosing to disinfect himself afterward. They knew their place in society and acted accordingly. The only monkeys he could tolerate. 
Another sound took him out of his thoughts, a knock on the door. He turned his head, “Come in,” was all he had to rasp. His voice was naturally soft, as he didn’t typically raise it past a whisper to most. Only when Suguru was truly enraged would he begin to scream and yell at those useless monkeys… but that was becoming rare now.
A tuft of pink hair appeared from the door as it opened, showing his secretary Manami. She strolled in as if she owned the room, opting to close the door with a push to her hip. The male watched her with an indifferent gaze as she tapped the rickety clipboard in her hand, “I found you a personal servant.”
“Personal servant? Why would I need that? I’m capable of dressing myself, you know,” as Suguru spoke he began to pull at his sheer robe, the one he slept in. His secretary looked up to the ceiling, avoiding any and all contact with his body as she possibly could. 
She tapped a pen along the rim of the clipboard as she continued, “Someone to make the bed and cut your hair. It’s getting too long, sir.” Manami swiftly raised her hand and pointed to him with the pen, still avoiding his body with her eyes up. He raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging off the robe and setting it neatly on his bed. His jaw flexed as he clenched it, in thought. Would the leader of the Star Religious group need a personal maid to do every little thing he needed? I mean, it sounded appealing to have a monkey fetch him any useless thing he requested. Watching them spread themselves thin trying to appease him. His lips pulled together in a silent smile at that thought.
“What’s this servant's credentials?” Suguru pulled his robe off the hanger and blew on it lightly, ridding it of the dust it had collected throughout the week it had been since he wore it. 
“Well she’s about 24, so past any good age to get married off,” she listed off, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke, “She’s worked in several different houses as a housekeeper and nanny, but she’s been let go for differing reasons.”
Geto slid on his robe and adjusted it until it fell across his muscular body, “Fired? Was she unruly or perhaps a pain in the ass?” A humorous tone took to his voice and Manami laughed in response, handing him the clipboard so he could see for himself. In a subtle sprawl, it wrote your name. It was interesting as he perused down the paper, stopping at the section where it detailed how you were let go: “Fired for talking back” and “Inappropriate conduct” happened to be recurring on the list, making the leader quirk an eyebrow. The last time he had anyone with some sense of personality was ages ago, as I previously stated my guy doesn’t raise his voice often. “What does she look like?” He asked, handing the clipboard back to the woman.
“I dunno. Why? Finally over your ex, Sugruuuuuuu?” Manami teased, a grin appearing on her face. However, it quickly disappeared as soon as he shot her a warning glare. Never bring up that name. Even edging around the subject, do not bring it up. Every servant and every secretary knew the leader’s past was a delicate subject. Never bring it up. 
She cleared her throat and continued, “Her parents are the ones using her for labor money. We can undercharge them for an old hag and get full labor! ‘Course, she’d have to live here… but I can situate that,” she waved a hand in the air to dismiss that train of thought, “I think it’ll be good for you, sir. Maybe you can get some release.”
She did it that time. Suguru’s eyes shot up to hers and gave her a look that would have sent anyone running. Manami apologized instantly, bowing her head. Everyone also knew of their Emperor’s lack of sexual lovers, and his constant sexual frustrations. He had never been able to fully relieve himself, for well over twelve years. There was a pent-up hunger burning inside him and no one could satiate it no matter how much he tried.
“Hire her. I wish to get acquainted with my new personal servant.”
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Your personality had always bounced back even in the face of adversity, maybe that’s why every household you’ve ever worked for had fired you. Life wasn’t easy for someone like you, in a family who didn’t prioritize you. All they wanted were sons and they were blessed with a daughter who couldn’t even marry, you were a disgrace. So they decided they would use you for money if they could, milking you for every cent you were worth. However, you couldn’t keep a job. 
You started well-behaved and quiet, but soon the snippy comments would start. Then soon, you’d be making a scene, disrespectfully calling out your bosses for their treatment in a very public manner. Then they’d fire you instantly, making your family angry once more. It was a vicious cycle they couldn’t snap you from. You were never going to change until your father had announced you had been sold. 
The Star Religious group had agreed to your purchase, giving your family a sum of money they hadn’t seen in their entire lifetime. It was enough for them to skip town and leave you in your own abandoned house. Rough. Of course, that money wouldn’t hold them afloat forever, but they didn’t realize it at the time. All you could think about was the fact you had been abandoned by the people you had been blessed to, the people who said they loved you. 
You were never going to change until that day.
There was no use in fighting, because what happened after this? You’d have no one to back you up or a roof to sleep under. This time… you weren’t going to fuck it up. A carriage arrived at your vacant lot a day after your parents announced you were sold, leaving you alone with your thoughts. In a side bag were two kimonos, a compact, and a hair clip. You opened your rickety front door and peered over at the carriage with wide eyes. Normally a comment would fly out of your mouth, but you couldn’t even will yourself to speak. You didn’t have the will or energy to do anything more than sit and stare like a rock before a woman came out of it. 
She was beautiful, with short pink hair and a purple dress. She shouted your name and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach, “Oh he’s going to like you very well. Sir Geto has a thing for submissive women.” 
You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh in her face and contradict her statement, nodding lifelessly, “I am grateful for this opportunity, Ms.” 
“Ms. Manami Suda to you!” She grinned, stepping aside to let you walk inside the carriage. It was a dull red on the outside and the same interior-wise, nothing special. You didn’t note the patterns on the inner walls or how the cushion felt. In all honesty, you didn’t care. Even though it was mid-day, you found yourself fantasizing about sleeping in a cot that wasn’t made of pure shit material, maybe even with a pillow. 
The carriage ride was quiet, aside from the occasional comment from Manami about how you didn’t have the monkey smell. Oh, that’s right… they were Jujutsu Sorcerers. You or anyone in your family for that matter were not blessed with the sorcerer gene, so you truly didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of speaking you nodded politely and let a fake small smile grace your lips, as if you were actually listening to her. The countryside was beautiful, the ride taking you deep into the middle of nowhere. Then you saw it, large buildings all coupled together to create a convent. They were tan with brown bamboo roofs, slanted to a point on the top. Incredibly gorgeous. You had always fantasized about building your own buildings one day, admiring from afar. But you weren’t built for that lifestyle. 
It was only ever going to be a fantasy for you it seemed.
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The two of you entered the convent in silence, taking in the architecture. It was gorgeous, something you had seen from far away but never dared to venture to up close. You resisted so many urges to run your hand along the columns of the outdoor hallways that lined the outdoor courtyard in the center, where many of the children played. They all looked happy and free, something you found yourself envying.
“Lord Geto is right this way,” Manami spoke eagerly, walking ahead of you and motioning around, “Get used to it kid, you’ll be spending a lot of time here,” she then glanced back at you, a smile branding her lips, “Don’t get smart.” To her, she didn’t think that you were the same girl with the smart mouth that had been let go so many times. In some ways, you weren’t the same. You were so completely and utterly done with your life you couldn’t bring yourself to even have an ounce of personality you once did.
The rest of the walk was quiet before she turned on her heels to the right and motioned to a large door. It was red, with golden trim around the edges. You couldn’t see inside but you knew exactly what lay behind those doors. Manami took your bag from you politely and knocked a few times on the door, hearing some shuffling and seeing them open. Two guards opened the door, their faces stone-cold and stoic. They were almost scary looking, but nothing prepared you for the man who was behind them. He sat on a mound of pillows, head resting in his palm, and his eyes glued to you. In every sense of the word he was gorgeous, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. And he could say the same about you.
Suguru’s eyes widened just a tad as he took in your person. You were beautiful, looking hand-carved from a cloud by the finest god, wine drunk on nothing but your beauty alone. How could this be? No non-sorcerer should have ever made him stare for longer than a few seconds. Manami noticed, hell, everyone but you noticed. He blinked once, then twice, pulling him out of the trace you had put over him, a delicate smile gracing his lips. He spoke your name and used his free hand to beckon you over.
You did as you were told, walking into the room silently. But you hadn’t seen the rug placed before you or the corner of that small table. You found yourself hitting the side of the table with your right ankle, then tripping forward, completely slipping due to the rug. It was within seconds you were face down to the ground, letting out an astonished gasp. That was it. You had done it. You had tripped in front of the most notorious non-sorcerer-hating Sorcerer in the entire country. You had made a complete and utter fool of yourself and that was going to be the end of your life. A sad and embarrassed blush filled your cheeks and hollowed out your temples, waiting for your punishment. 
“I’m… so very sorry,” you managed to mumble, lifting your head from your crouched position. You didn’t hear Suguru lean forward, changing his position to kneel in front of you, and you didn’t expect him to be leaning over you so closely. His face looked down at you with a different kind of softness, raven strands of hair falling over his ears.
“Nonsense. It happens to the best of us… sit up,” he purred, whispering a magical tune in your ear. In any other person, this caring persona would have elicited a feeling of trust and safety. But you found this to be resulting in a different kind of reaction. Suguru’s brow furrowed ever so slightly when you sat up, moving to sit on your knees in front of him, and stared at him with … fuck me eyes?? No one had ever lusted after him so obviously and that quickly too! I mean he was Suguru fucking Geto, for crying out loud- he was supposed to be scary, not sexy! Well… maybe both. 
He blinked slowly to reset his thoughts, letting a gentle hand swipe past her cheek and softly hold her chin. Geto spoke your name lowly as he tilted your head to one side, taking in your features. It was nothing more than a pass over to see you fully, but you had completely soaked your underwear. Yeah, that’s right, you weren’t scared of him you were aroused. It felt even more embarrassing because it was incredibly obvious your fear-torn stare had turned into something more objectifiying. 
You were just picturing him leaning in and whispering sweet nothings as his voice broke your thoughts, “Your name is very pretty.” His voice brushed against your ears and once he retracted his hand back, a small frown parted your lips. His touch was warm and soft, contrasting the devilish stare Suguru typically wore. You wanted to relish in it for a few more moments, but you couldn’t live in a fantasy, now could you?
“Thank you, sir,” you replied, looking down to your lap. You just felt your wetness create an uncomfortable pool in your underwear, making it hard not to squirm. Especially with those naturally beautiful eyes staring at you with a hidden curiosity. 
Aside from the obvious lust radiating off of your person, you were a hard individual to read. Geto was getting mixed signal after mixed signal from your face he decided to sigh and ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment, opting to go over the business side of things. “You will become my personal servant, focussing on cooking, cleaning, and fulfilling my everyday needs. Understood?”
You nodded as he continued, “I would let Manami show you to your room… but it appears she’s wandered off,” he motioned to the slightly open door behind you, “I don’t mind showing you.” With that, the emperor stood up and cleared his throat, brushing his big hands against his robe. You watched with wide eyes as it flowed around him, making him appear more majestic than he actually was. You found yourself standing up and following your new boss, opting not to speak or do anything to draw more attention to yourself. 
As the two of you walked, the columns lining the walls took hold of your mind. The patterns in the wallpaper were one thing in itself, but the structure of the clearly customized columns made your heart flutter. It was gorgeous. Dragon scales dipped into the wall before coming out, in the middle of every door that lined the long indoor hallway. Your feet slowed to a stop, staring at the gold dragon trim. Your hand inched toward it slowly, just one touch to see the type of material. Suguru hadn’t noticed you wandered off until he turned and in the corner of his eye, he saw you stroke the wall. At first, he wanted to do the dick thing and clear his throat, embarrassing you. But something stopped him. You were as pretty as that dragon, the gold reflecting off your skin and making you practically glow in the dim light. You were gorgeous. Stunning even. It was strange, he had never felt himself this attracted to anyone in his life. Aside from- never mind. 
The leader slowly walked back, making his way behind you. You were tolerable to be around, tolerable for a monkey. That was something he had to remind himself about. You were still a non-sorcerer. You were still inferior to him in every sense of the word. Whatever feelings were creeping into his chest and making his heart sing had to get shut away in that instant, so he did the dick move and cleared his throat. 
Your hand was on one of the scales and you froze, turning your head with the speed of light to meet his gaze. “Lord… Please forgive me,” you blurted out, turning on your heel and pressing both hands to your chest, “I’m very sorry. I should never have gotten distracted. I’m sorry,” you squeaked, shutting your eyes tight. You knew what was bound to come… either a physical punishment or your letter of unemployment. Before Suguru could even respond, you lifted your head and tilted it to the side, motioning to your cheek. 
His eyebrow quirked up. He had never seen a servant ask for a punishment for their own wrongdoings, especially when it wasn’t that severe. A strange pang hit his chest, causing a weight to form across his own heart. What had happened in your sad life that made you so prone to letting people do things like that to you? This wasn’t the woman he was expecting. When you walked in, terrified and shy, then … horny, he thought he had gotten the wrong girl. Something must have happened for you to change like that. Maybe your obvious attraction was a hint of the personality you were hiding. Then Suguru had another question: why were you hiding your personality? The first duh answer was so you wouldn’t get fired right away, right? But he felt like there was something more. 
Something he shouldn’t have cared about. You were a non-sorcerer, a monkey! It was forbidden on all accords. 
Suguru blinked a few times, taking himself out of his weird spiral of thoughts to look at your face, contorted with worry, “It’s … alright. I wasn’t aware you liked architecture,” he motioned to the dragon’s golden bodice on the wall, “That was custom made from…” You let your boss explain how the dragon was made and imported, listening to every word. You didn’t want to speak and ruin your only chance at a new life. This was the one and only time you had ever held your breath, stopping any words from coming out. 
After a moment, the male paused and looked over you once more. Something was turning over inside his head and he so desperately wanted an answer. What was going on inside your head and what had deflated your personality so? What had made you turn yourself into a shell of the person he knew was still in there? …And why was he longing to see this? But he said nothing. The moment had passed and as quickly as you wandered off, you were shown to your room. If Geto had let himself unravel any further he would have requested her to accept a binding vow of pure honesty, with the promise of his protection. Why? Why was she pulling at his mind and making him lose it?
That night, he set himself a bath. The water splashed and made small waves as he dipped his feet into it, before submerging his large body. There was something so very calming about a bath to clear his mind… but he couldn’t rid it of you. Of your face, of your monkey smell, or your body. Even though the kimono you were wearing was a size too big, he still made sure to look you over subtly. He took in your large curves and bit his lip, thinking about them as he sat by himself. He was completely and utterly alone, in spirit and in a literal sense. Of course, he’d get a morning erection every now and then, but it had been a long time since something had turned him on just from the thought of it. 
One of Suguru’s hands dipped into the water and grabbed ahold of his meaty cock, dragging a hand up and down his length. It was foreign, but coming back to him like muscle memory. He didn’t want to savor this orgasm to the thought of a lowly monkey, he wanted to get it over with then pretend it never even happened. He wanted to pretend this was all some strange dream he was forced into… not at all something that was going to be plaguing him. He inhaled sharply and leaned his head back, resting his back against the edge of the bathtub. The water was coming up to his mid stomach, warming up his lower half. His pleasure was a gradual build, but he was trying his hardest to rush it. The leader wanted nothing more than to cum and then forget it. His hand tightened around his shaft, stroking upwards to find any sense of release. It was a few seconds before he came, rolling his hips a few times at the new sensation. It was a build of pure warmth before he felt his fluids ooze out of his tip with heavy force. It sprung into the water and contaminated it with his filthy seed. 
It was enough to make him grimace. A non-sorcerer made him so hot and bothered he was forced to spill all over himself, in the bath no less! First, he felt an odd sense of attraction to you… now he wanted nothing to do with it. If it was going to keep him feeling this way, Suguru wanted nothing to do with you. Even if you were beautiful, and you smelt good, and your skin was soft. He could feel it on his fingertips, a psychosomatic warmth radiating off of his hands. 
This was not going to be good for him. You were not going to be good for him.
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You woke up at 9 AM sharp, not by choice. Manami shook you a few times, forced you out of your comforting dream, and made you sit up on the small cot you had gotten as your bed. It was more than you could have ever asked for, even if it was made for someone a bit smaller than you. So was your new kimono. They had a dress code for servants to differentiate them, and clearly whoever was the last servant didn’t have a very large … bust. You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your form ache to be freed from the tight clothing. The buttons didn’t go all the way down, exposing a bit of cleavage, and it tore a bit at the small of your back. Manami wasn’t much help either, opting to snicker at you and roll her eyes. You wanted to bite back and say something to get her riled up, but you never found your strength. Instead, you took it and nodded. 
“Okay so, Sir Geto’s room is the one to your left. Go ahead and start his bath. Don’t try to wake him up, though. He’ll be all grumpy if you do,” she explained, motioning wildly with her hands. She was a very extroverted person. Someone you would’ve gotten along with if you didn’t feel like absolute dog shit at that very moment. You nodded your head politely and exited the room, opening your bosses. 
It was neat, with barely any decor. Gas lanterns hung from the walls dimly, always keeping the room somewhat illuminated. You tried your hardest not to look at his sleeping form, but you caved. He was so gorgeous it made you pussy throb just from looking at him. His face was resting peacefully against his pillow, some black hairs sprawled against his forehead. His hair was long, longer than you expected, flowing behind him on his bed. And he was wearing what appeared to be a sheer robe. You swallowed and made your way into his bathroom, almost slipping on the excess water left behind from his previous night's bath. You were innocent enough not to question the pile of tissues on the counter, pushing them into the small garbage pail. Then it was a matter of setting up his bath.
In a cabinet hidden by a curve in the wall, you noticed some aromatic bath salts and other essential oils. One of the households you worked for was very into the essential thing, so you had an idea of what scents went together. You didn’t want Geto to smell like a whole mixture of things, but rather one family of scents. You chose a vial of rosemary, lavender, and peppermint oil, hoping it would go together. The bath turned on with a single turn of the knob. Your hands rested on the base of the tub, feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. It got to the perfect temperature and you put the stopper on the drain, letting it fill up. In the meantime, you sat on the edge of the bathtub and peered around the bathroom. It was again, tidy and austere. He didn’t have an eye for decorating or he didn’t enjoy it. 
You heard a faint groan in the bedroom, signaling Suguru was waking. You inhaled the smell of rosemary and turned on your side to watch as it spilled one drop at a time from the vial. Then fell the peppermint, followed by the lavender. The scent filled the bathroom in an aromatic fashion, filling your senses with a sudden calm. Was it some kind of drug concoction? It was a smell that made you lean back and sigh, filling you with a sense of safety in your surroundings. 
“Good morning,” Suguru spoke, a raspy edge to his voice. Your eyes shot open from their closed state and you stood up, clasping your hands on your chest to hide your cleavage. But you hadn’t seen him staring at you from the bathroom door. He leaned against the doorframe, in only his thin nighttime robe, and stared at your thick breasts. The fabric was so tight, it pulled gaps between each button. He had to admit it, it was hot. Even if you were a filthy monkey, you were a hot filthy monkey. A hot filthy monkey with a banging body. 
“Lord Geto, I was preparing your bath,” you stepped to the side and motioned to the filling water. He caught a glimpse of your back as you turned to turn the knob to the water down to a stop. He saw the tear and the bit of your lacey underwear peeking out from underneath it. Was he that much of a monster that the first time a beautiful non-sorcerer appeared, he’d cave and melt? 
It was starting to feel that way as something came out of his mouth, “How do you feel about me? …Honestly.”
You opened your mouth to respond, on autopilot, before you closed it as quickly as you opened it. What could you say? You found him attractive and you wanted him to breed you? You couldn’t exactly say that, so instead you opted for something more generic, “I think you’re a very respectable leader and emperor to your coven.”
Bull. Shit. Suguru knew it was a lie and he knew you knew it as well. He didn’t have a reputation for being respectable in any sense of the word. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d murder anyone who wronged him in any way. A cold-blooded killer who was beginning to have a strange soft spot for you… 
“Tell me this,” he took a step forward, “if you vow to never lie to me again … I vow to protect you from getting fired, no matter what.” Was he seriously going to bindingly vow himself to some non-sorcerer? Was he seriously going to do this because he wanted to know how he was perceived? 
“...Really?” You asked, your mouth opening slightly. All he wanted was honesty?? You could do that! You could do that so well!! 
“Really,” Geto took another step forward and began to undo the tie holding together his robe. You had made it a point to stare at his face, but you were aching to quickly glance down below his belt. Just for a second.
“Okay. I swear…” You looked away and bit your bottom lip for a moment. You’d have to be honest now. You looked back at the man and let a smile appear on your face, “I think you’re more hot than you are scary.” 
Suguru’s eyes widened. That’s not at all the kind of tonal shift he had expected from you. He expected you to admit some kind of vague attraction and perhaps that he was a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But… he got a response which made an embarrassed blush fill his temples. 
“I’m .. hot?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t shy away now, making direct eye contact with his flaccid cock. It was beautiful even in that state, making your mouth hang open just a bit more. It was huge too. Thoughts of his girth stretching out your tiny pussy flooded into your thoughts. He could fuck you so good with that thing. And his voice… it was perfect.
“A lot of you is hot,” you looked back at his face, which was an excruciatingly bright shade of red. No one had ever felt this comfortable to objectify Suguru this way to his face. He couldn’t deny the fact he was growing to enjoy it. And grow in other ways. He took a few more steps forward, hands reaching out and pulling you closer to his front. 
“You’re being filthy, not honest,” a small smirk graced his lips as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes, beaming with lust. 
“I can do both,” you returned a smile. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had complete and utter job security. That’s all you could have ever wanted in your entire life, just a place to stay. Even if it meant working with this hot guy for the rest of your life, you didn’t mind. Although, he thought of you as inferior, you didn’t care. That’s what did it. Your personality had been led out of its cage and shown to Suguru’s perverted gaze. He realized what kind of person you were from your few sentences. You were just as much of a pervert as he was. The tonal shift was enough to make you realize what his next plans were, especially when he let his big hands snake around your waist. 
“This is,” Suguru let out a breath and craned his head down, brushing his lips past your ear, “Very wrong… But I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss you, pretty girl,” he cooed, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him as he pulled his face back. You both looked at each other’s features for a moment without anything. What was there to say? You could feel him throbbing between your legs with that massive log he had attached to his front. It was hot. You just wanted to trail your hand down his chest and watch him shiver when you got to his v-line.
“You can’t fire me… so I don’t care,” two hands found themselves placed on his bare chest, running up and down his pectorals, “Am I too lowly for you, sir?” You purred, looking back up at him with a lustful expression. It was all you had to say before he proved you wrong. Devastatingly slow, he brought your lips together. The hand on your chin disappeared, moving to rest upon your ass. You sighed into the kiss, molding your lips together in perfect synchronization. It was as if his mouth was made for you, pulling you into sensations you had never felt before. The kiss didn’t last long before he pulled back and looked down at you with an unmistakable expression. He was going to fuck the living shit out of you. It was written on his face from the way he was clearly thinking about how to go about it. There was a bathtub full of aromatic water, waiting to be used… You looked down at the tub and looked back at him. You two didn’t have to say anything as his hands grabbed at the hole from the back of your kimono and ripped it. It made a loud tearing sound and he continued to pull, until little to no fabric hung from your breasts. 
You gasped and looked down at the mess he had made, moving to undo your underwear, then you looked at his cock. It was just aching to be touched in some way. Your hand found his tip and started to stroke down his shaft, then up. Who knew a non-sorcerer's hands would feel phenomenal compared to his own? Suguru let out a faint groan, leaning into your touch. He had never let himself take pleasure in things, ever since his breakup [at KFC] twenty years ago… but now it felt different. He felt like he had one chance to do this and he wasn’t going to spoil it. Your hands were so warm, he could just imagine how warm your mouth would be, gagging on his length.
Large hands cupped your ass and lifted your body, causing you to exclaim loudly and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. He was so strong, you could hardly believe it. It was pure talent and genetics that made him perfect on every level. His face was godly and his body was sculpted from the heavens just for your perverted stare. The male set you down gently in the tub, being mindful to make sure you didn’t land too hard on your plush backside. He wanted to save the bruising on your skin for when it was from him. He wanted his hands to be the ones leaving imprint after imprint on your skin, slapping and grabbing without a care for what would be left behind. He plopped down into the water, not caring if he got water to spill from the sides. He didn’t care about anything, because his hands and eyes were glued to you. His hands hooked around your hips and pulled you onto his lap, still being mindful not to hurt you. 
You grinned and leaned forward, pushing strands of ebony-colored hair across his forehead and away from his beautiful eyes. Purple, they stared back at you gently. “This… is nice,” you spoke softly, pressing your lips first on his forehead, then his nose, before landing on his lips. It was chaste, as the first kiss had been. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Suguru’s tongue slipped its way into your mouth and took over with a dominating force, making you bite back a whimper. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to move it to elicit whatever reaction he pleased. Your hands raked through his hair, before grabbing fistfuls at the root and moaning into his mouth. He liked that, moaning with you.  
“...Harder,” he mumbled against your open mouth, kissing back for more.
“What a pretty little masochist,” you smiled, running your hands through the roots of his hair before clenching them down and yanking up another fistful, hearing him whine in his low gravelly voice. Fuck… it just made you so wet. You clenched your thighs together as you kissed up his face, pulling his hair just to hear the ardor-esc moans fill the room. This was even better than sex, just hearing him get a little bit of pleasure out of this hair-pulling would’ve been satisfactory. But as you did this, you felt his hands fondle your ass, squeezing and palming your skin. It wasn’t long before he lifted you and had you position his throbbing dick against your folds. 
You had never felt a dick this good penetrate you in your life. Something about the way it curved to the left and the bulbous head, touched areas you didn’t even know you had, just on the way down. You threw your head back in a breathy whine, rocking your hips back and forth once you felt yourself hit the base of his cock. Suguru used his two hands to help you slide up his length, then down again. He had you trapped in a rhythm of fucking your tight cunt with his member, making you his fuck toy. The male had never felt himself slip into such a trace over a monkey of all people. Non-sorcerers should have not had this hold on him, but you were different. You gasped and bit down on your hand to stop a loud groan escaping your mouth, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 
“Dirty slut,” Suguru uttered, biting on his bottom lip to stop his own noises from getting too loud. No one could figure out this was happening. It was wrong. It was against everything he had ever stood for. But …god it felt so good. Your walls clenched around him every time he forced you down on his length, taking the time to feel up your hips and ass. You were so soft, inside and out. The perfect toy he could use. 
It didn’t take him long to feel close, a familiar pang of desire creeping up the shaft of his cock. You were beyond ready to cum, with this log inside you it wouldn’t take long. You bit down on your fingertips and cried out, not having time to muffle your wails of pleasure. It was a warmth you hadn’t felt in such a long time wash over your whole vagina, flushing out through your body next. You convulsed, grinding your hips back and forth to continue to elongate your high for as much as possible, causing a second orgasm on your way down. No one had ever made you cum like that, making you dumbfounded by the sheer will of their dick. 
The cult leader felt himself throbbing for release, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it inside you. There couldn’t be any evidence of your joint mistake running around in nine months, not here. Instead, he pulled you off his cock and pressed his lips together, “Press your…” He motioned to your breasts then his cock, “So I can…” You nodded and pressed your tits together, pushing them up against the length of his dick. That was all he needed, using his left hand to finish the job. He focused his energy on the swollen tip, leaking precum and begging to release all over your mounds of perfect flesh. Mounds he wanted so desperately to put in his mouth and suck. 
Then he came, splattering out of his cock and messily coating your tits. Most of the cum was on your skin, although half of it also found its way into the water. You bit your lip as he came and thrust into the air, into nothing. It was like volt after volt of pure pleasure was shot through his urethra and forced out in one big release, a release he didn’t know he was even capable of. Your cunt had felt so good it made Suguru’s dick completely sensitive to any kind of touches, including his own. So when he came, he let out a loud whine, in his devilishly low voice, “F-fuck… mmm shit.. This was.. Hah.. a mis-mistake,” he breathed out, trying to regulate himself after he had just felt an explosive orgasm run through his penis.
You nodded and looked down at your breasts, coated in his cum. How were you going to explain to Manami that all of your clothes mysteriously wound up torn in Lord Geto’s bathroom? And how were you going to explain the fact you were also covered in Lord Geto’s cum?
“...Can I call you Suguru now?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head to the man who looked as though he had just run a marathon. 
There was something utterly interesting about your personality now that you had freed it from your nervous shackles. Suguru didn’t want to extinguish this new fire in your eyes, he wanted to foster it and let it burn. There was no way he was developing some kind of feelings for you other than lust… there was no way. But there were going to be dramatic changes now. After that day, you were treated as one of the regular Sorcerers, which infuriated Manami to no end. You were the most prized possession of Suguru Geto and everyone knew not to anger or upset you because he would get wind of it. Then… there’d be trouble. You were his prized possession. The possession he wanted to see smile and laugh in the sunlight, rather than stay inside and do mindless chores. The possession he wanted to have slept next to him in his bed at night and wrapped his large arms around. 
The possession he was growing to… love.
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matan4il · 3 days
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Passover is the Jewish festival of freedom.
Israel has 133 hostages, alive and dead, still held in captivity. I'm grateful for each one released, but as long as some of our people, Jews and non-Jews alike, are hostages, we all are. Also, yesterday alone, Israel saw no less than 6 terrorist attacks (attempted or thwarted) with zero casualties, and I'm grateful no one got hurt, but what kind of freedom do we have, when this is our daily reality, and it's not even recognized?
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At the end of every Passover Seder, for 2,000 years now, Jews have concluded the holiday feast with, "Le'shana ha'baa bi'Yerushalayim (לשנה הבאה בירושלים)," next year in Jerusalem.
(here's a Passover Hagaddah from Casablanca, in Morroco, with this phrase and a drawing of the Hebrew Temple in Jerusalem -)
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Passover is the festival of freedom, the story of a nation breaking its bonds of enslavement, it's a story of emancipation, and as such, it is a beacon of hope and a reminder that freedom is possible for all those who yearn for it. That's why slaves in the US south adopted this language, and expressed their hopes for freedom through the story of the Jewish exodus from Egypt.
But the story doesn't end as soon as the Israelites have left Egypt, it doesn't end in the desert. Achieving freedom is a process. That ancient story demonstrates that, but we have other, more recent examples. Jews liberated from the Nazi camps were still re-living the horrors of the Holocaust every night, if not more often than that. The hostages who have been released from their captivity at the hands of murderous, rapist Hamas terrorists are still working to recover. Freedom is a process. And in the story of the exodus from Egypt, which Jews have been re-telling annually for thousands of years, guiding our thoughts and understanding of what our freedom is, the story doesn't end when our ancestors left Egypt. The final note of the story defines our freedom as only being fully achieved after going through the journey in the desert, the process, when we are once more living freely in our ancestral, promised land, when we return to our holy city. And no matter where we live, we express this idea in Hebrew, our native, ancestral language.
(here's another Passover Hagaddah, this one from 1940's Cairo, in Egypt of all places, with this same phrase -)
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Poet Amnon Ribak (whose career was originally in hi-tech before he started delving into what his Judaism means to him) once wrote, "Every man needs some sort of an Egypt, to deliver himself from its house of slaves, to leave in the middle of the night into a desert of fears, to walk straight into the waters and see it parting in front of him." He takes the Jewish exodus and turns it into a metaphor for personal challenge and growth. And how does he finish this poem? (my emphasis) "Everyone needs an Egypt, and a Jerusalem, and one long journey to remember forever through the feet."
Here's the poem composed as a song (composing poems is an Israeli tradition. And while we're at it, this is a reminder that the biggest center of original Jewish culture and art in the world today is Israel):
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This Passover, we will be remembering and re-telling the story of our ancestors' exit from Egypt, we will collectively yearn for Jerusalem again, we will do our best to learn from this ancient story as if each of us has been personally delivered from Egypt, we will cherish the freedoms that we have, and keep in mind the ones we still have to fight for, first and foremost the literal freedom of our hostages. Please, if you celebrate Passover, consider leaving an empty chair at your Seder table for all the people who are not yet free.
And may we all have a happy and meaningful Pesach! <3
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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honeyed-hedonist · 3 days
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Parings: Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 2.2k Summary: You and Jason spend some quality time together on a balmy summer night amongst the flora and fauna. Things quickly heat up, as they so often do when the two of you are together. Warnings: SMUT--MINORS DNI. fingering, foul language, Jason being stupidly strong and handsome and hot and hshsaksjfkhf!! A/N: Hi hello! Since my old blog got deleted (I'm still not over it. Ten+ years of work and building up a following gone down the drain), I've decided to start reposting my old stuff here. This one used to be called Sweet Bitter, but I decided to change the name. ENJOY!
IF YOU LIKE THIS STORY, PLEASE REBLOG IT.
There’s something about the way the moonlight casts a silvery glow to your eyes, how it turns your dewy skin a pearlescent shade of indigo, that has Jason punch drunk, lips parted in silent awe while he watches you take in the scenery. You look ethereal, a goddess come down from heaven to fill the cracks in his soul with liquid gold until he’s overflowing—and fuck, he’s never been more in love with you than he is right now. 
The midnight air is ripe with honeyed blossoms and earthy moss, a symphony of buzzing cicadas fills the silence as a balmy breeze tousles a few loose strands of your hair around your face. It has him reaching out to tuck them behind your ear, pulling your focus from the lush greenery around you to his glittering blue eyes instead. 
Jason gives you a lazy grin, the kind that makes your stomach flutter, fingertips brushing the curve of your jaw before he settles back on his elbows across the blanket and your gaze lifts skyward. You’ve never seen so many stars before—the light pollution in Gotham almost blots out the moon most nights, and you want to commit this view to memory, to remember every twinkling ball of starlight scattered across the charcoal sky.
“How’d you find this place?” You murmur softly, fingers curling around the hem of your sundress, picking at the edge idly.
“Ivy owed me a favor.” Jason answers, laughing when your head whips around to look at him. 
“This is Poison Ivy’s garden?” You hiss, eyebrows knitted together, and he laughs harder, his palm cupping your knee as he gives you a gentle shake. 
“Relax, baby,” he teases, laughter still bubbling up in his throat. It makes his voice a little raspier, a little more gruff, and with it your pulse spikes, because goddamn if little things like that don’t turn you to mush. “There’s nothing poisonous here, I promise.” 
You give him a skeptical look, but it quickly melts away into a smile that makes Jason’s throat tight with emotion. Yeah, he’s in deep, tilting back a swig of his beer in hopes that it’ll hide the heat that’s coloring his cheeks rosy. It doesn’t, your smile turning cheshire when you snatch the bottle from his hands and neck back what’s left. 
His face turns sour, glaring at you while he folds those thick arms across his chest, his t-shirt struggling to contain the sheer mass of him, the cotton stretched to its limit. The sight has your cheeks warming, mouth going dry, because it should be fucking illegal to look like that.  “I was drinking that, brat.” Jason chides, and you answer with a flick of your tongue past your lips, blowing a raspberry at him. 
“Sucks to suck, I guess.” You retort, lifting your eyes back towards the sky, the distraction providing a perfect opportunity for him to wrap those massive hands around your waist and haul you onto his lap. 
It’s no surprise to anyone that Jason is strong, he’s built like a brick shithouse—an absolute unit of a man from head to toe, and yet it still catches you off guard every single time he flaunts that strength. Like all of those early mornings when he’s just gotten home from patrol while you’re getting ready for work and he can’t help but lift you into his arms to fuck you in the shower, or those hazy nights when you’ve both had one too many and he’s got you folded in half against the brick wall of an alley, one hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds you make while he turns you inside out with the slow drag of his cock. 
Your reaction is always the same though, an excitable giggle slipping out from behind your teeth as your hands settle on his shoulders, only this time your legs are spread open to accommodate the width of his stocky thighs. You bite your lip, and Jason’s bravado slips, if only for a moment, as his eyes track the movement, blood immediately rushing to his dick and—shit, why the fuck did he wear jeans tonight?
“Wanna say that again?” He goads, cocking his head to the side, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your hips until you squeal, wriggling around on his lap in an attempt to flee. “Nuh uh, you’re goin’ nowhere, baby.” Jason taunts you, his arms locking around your back, pulling you in until you’re chest to chest. 
It’s a wonder, he thinks, gazing at you through hooded eyes, how he ever manages to keep his hands off of you in the first place, how the two of you even make it out of your bedroom. Someone should give him a goddamn medal or something, because it takes more self control than he’s used to practicing—resisting the urge he has to tear your shit up every minute of every day.
And that’s without mentioning how you look tonight, sprawled out on top of him in that little scrap of fabric you call a sundress, the hem riding up the tops of your buttery thighs, exposing the barest hint of your core, pussy lips peeking out from behind those lacy panties you’re sporting—taunting him, begging for the kind of attention he’s all too happy to supply. 
You let your hands roam, gliding across the tops of his shoulders and around to the back of his neck, fingertips snaking up through his hair, the longer pieces curling in the sticky, nighttime summer heat. “You got that much right, at least.” You tell him, because even though you’re more composed about it, you’re still just as lovesick as he is. 
“Sweet talkin’ me isn’t gonna make me forget your little comment,” Jason muses, palms dragging up the outsides of your thighs until his fingers disappear beneath the skirt of your dress, thumbs rubbing heated circles into the skin, “but I’ll let you make it until we get home.”
A promise for later. 
His hands travel higher still, dipping under the lace stretched thinly at the apex of your thighs. He drags them inward, tugging the sodden material away from your slit, the rough pads of his fingertips tracing the crease where your legs meet your cunt. You keep your eyes fixed on his, hiccuping a soft breath in because you know exactly what he’s thinking when he leans in, nose skimming across your jaw and up until his breath is cooling against the shell of your ear.
“Wore this thing just to torture me, didn’t you? Been flashing me these pretty little panties all night. Think you’re so clever, hm?” You puff out a shaky breath, nodding softly, your hair tickling Jason’s face. “Shame m’gonna ruin ‘em.” His fingers curl and pull, ripping at the delicate lace until it tears apart and he pulls them clean off in one fell swoop, another pair of your underwear now lost to his impatience and show-boating.
Jason lets his tongue trace over your cartilage, teeth nipping at your earlobe until you shiver, a soft whimper forcing its way out of your mouth. “So proud of yourself, aren’t you? Got me all worked up—you and that smart fuckin’ mouth in this tiny fuckin’ dress. Know what m’gonna do now, baby?”
He cups your pussy and gives it a firm squeeze, pleased as punch when his palm is met with the oozing slick of your arousal, free hand trailing up your spine until he’s cradling the back of your head. It almost feels loving, and then he tightens that hand into a fist, tangling your hair as he yanks your head backwards, exposing the column of your throat to his eager mouth. 
Plush lips latch onto your dewy skin until the blood vessels rupture while Jason runs his first two fingers over your slit, spreading you open, groaning at the heat he finds there. He knows exactly what it feels like to be swamped by that heat, wrapped up in molten velvet, and he ruts his hips up into you, cock straining beneath denim, the zipper catching on his sensitive head until he rips himself away to hiss. 
“Gotta get you ready, yeah? Gonna fuck you dumb when we get home, princess. Fill you so full’a my cum that it’ll be leakin’ outta you ‘til tomorrow night.” Your answering moan makes him feral, growling as he hauls your mouth down to meet his in a kiss that’s wet and messy, no desire at all to make it pretty or sweet, and that suits you just fine.
Finally, Jason lets his fingers dredge through your folds, swiping over your clit, down to your hungry little hole, and back up—teasing you, feeling the way your sensitive pearl pulses under his touch. Sucking your tongue into his mouth, he groans, drunk off the taste of you, sweet as honeydew with a hint of bitter from the beer you stole. He hooks two digits inside you, swallowing the sound you make—shell shocked and breathy while he works you open until his palm is flat against your mons. 
He keeps them there, deeply seated, and curls them against your gummy walls while your fingernails dig harshly into the meat of his biceps and you squeal. It’s too much—a sensory overload, barely any effort at all and you’re already wound so fucking tight, amazed by how quickly Jason can make you sprung. “Mhm,” he murmurs against your kiss swollen lips, hazy eyes bouncing between yours, “that’s my girl, lemme hear you. Know it feels good, baby, gonna make it all better just—fuck—just sit still for me, hm?”
Lust-drunk, you nod frantically, whining low in your throat as Jason begins to fuck you with his fingers, opening you up for a third that has you bouncing softly on his lap. Christ, he’s never seen you quite like this—so wild and free, wanton cries of pleasure drowning out the consonance of buzzing from the fireflies that flit through the air around you.
“Jay,” you pant, arching into him, pretty tits perched right in his face, nipples pebbled and peeking through the thin material of your dress, “fuck, s’good. Please—wan’ cum.” He bends forward to tongue at your tits, teeth catching on those perked little nubs, lavishing them with the attention they’re sorely missing. It makes your thighs quiver, his thumb joining in his efforts to shatter you right here and now, flicking tight and hard against your clit.
“Go on, pretty girl. Cum for me, make it nice an’ messy.” He coos, the tone of his voice is almost mocking, but you’re far too lost in your pleasure to care. You’ll worry about what this means for the rest of your night later, right now all you care about is chasing the release that’s rising quickly and you to meet it.
The wet squelch of you pussy is music to Jason’s ears, his forearm burning from his efforts, fucking into you at a brutal pace while your walls flutter deliciously around his fingers. Leaning back a little, he untangles his hand from your hair and grips your jaw hard enough that it pulls your focus and you wince. “Eyes on me, baby.” He commands, desperate to watch the way you crumble for him—only for him.
Your orgasm crests and then crashes, rocketing you into bliss so sharp that you see stars, an imprint of the very same sky you were just gazing at not twenty minutes ago, your entire body quaking as he corrals you by your hip, anchors you flat atop his thighs while he works you through it. He can feel your cum rolling down his wrist, cooing and praising you with sweet words as he kitten licks the sweat gathered above your lips, across your chin, salty and earthy. 
“Good fuckin’ girl. Cum so hard for me, look so goddamn beautiful, princess.” He murmurs, biting at the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet while you ride out the final waves of pleasure, flexing out your fingers from where they were wedged into his arms. 
Jason gives you a moment to breathe, gentle when he slips his fingers free from your swollen, gushy core. Bringing them up to his mouth, his tongue laps at the pearly droplets running down his arm, fingers webbed with your glistening release that he suckles greedily with a lascivious moan. The sound travels straight to your overworked clit, a gentle thrumming already starting up again as he cocks a brow at you and smirks, like he just knows.
“Better get you home, huh? Don’t think Ivy would take too kindly to us defiling her garden more than we already did.” You sock him square on his chest, and he laughs, pulling you close for another kiss that you smile into, cupping his face in your hands.
“Good idea,” You answer, the tip of your nose brushing his. “Apparently I have some apologizing to do. Sensitive little baby Jason Todd can’t handle a little ribbing.” 
His smile widens, not bothering to call you on your jibe. “Damn right you do,” he says, lifting you off of his lap to start gathering your things. When he stands, he offers you his hand, and you slip your fingers between his—still damp from your pussy.  Glancing down at you, Jason runs his tongue over his teeth and grins again, pulling you towards the path that leads out of the garden. “Plus you own me a beer.”
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m-ayo-o · 2 days
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series ; foxtrot ★⋆. ࿐࿔ episode 2 ; double trouble
[episode 1 : popcorn]
-> 21+ Megumi wants to show you exactly what you mean to him
[reader is in an unsatisfying relationship with Toji, and Megumi- who is around reader's age/a little older- thinks he can help]
-> cw: cheating, justification of cheating, toji hate nsfw: fingering, oral
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In the morning you know you're in double trouble, since Toji is suspicious of where you were last night, there's a fucking bite mark on your ear that you're desperately concealing with your hair, and Megumi is only increasing his flirtatious advances.
He's going to get you killed. You have no doubt about it.
He starts using that voice on your more; the deep, seductive one from the other night. He gets nice and close, stepping up behind you when you're busy, in another world, doing some chores or reading, and he makes you jump every time.
Satisfied that you're on edge, he takes this cruel game further and starts touching you.
After he found out that you were ticklish you knew the end was near.
Toji was going to find you squealing with laughter, kicking your feet with his son pinning you to the kitchen counter with his hips.
And once he got a taste for touching you, it's all he could think about.
Staring at you in those skimpy tops no longer satisfies him.
Seeing your tits bounce, their perky outline, and those stiff nipples poking through the material just isn't enough anymore. The sight of you is leaving him horny and desperate, while he imagines what you'd sound like if he gave those nipples a good, hard suck.
He wonders how sensitive they are, what you'd taste like... until his dick springs up and he's got his first problem.
The second is you. Knocking at his door.
Toji doesn't knock.
And your knuckles make such a dainty tapping sound on the wood, like a little bird.
"Uh huh?"
He answers, cock strapped in his waistband.
"Dinner?"
"Mhm" he clears his throat and fidgets. He can see down your top from this angle. Oh god, he's getting harder.
"I'll be down in a bit."
He huffs and closes the door, sinking back onto his mattress to take care of another [name] induced boner. He swears it's like a sickness.
Maybe he's no better than his father after all.
However, their similarities are fewer than he realises.
And he has a certain trait Toji is lacking; patience.
Megumi is cunning. He watches. He observes.
Then, when he knows everything will work in his favour, he acts.
He won't get caught.
He knows Toji's habits; the late night gambling, the time he spends on his shitty car in the garage, the hours spent drinking in some rundown bar.
What a waste of time.
Especially when he could be with you instead; the glimmering light in both of their lives which Toji doesn't seem to realise, let alone appreciate.
But Megumi does.
And he wants to show you just how much he appreciates you.
So, this evening, when his father is likely to step a few metres out of the house and into the attached garage, he plans on doing just that.
He waits for him to finish undressing you with his eyes. He watches him place a firm smack on your ass when he leans over you at the fridge, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek and grabbing a few cans of beer.
He barely looks at your face. It's all about your body, as if you're some kind of glorified sex toy.
Megumi makes a little ugh noise at the vulgar display, dipping his gaze back down to the newspaper he was reading at the kitchen table.
"What's up with you, urchin?"
Toji steps up to his fully grown son and ruffles his hair before ambling towards the back door that leads to the garage, as expected.
"Get your hands off me."
How disgusting.
At least he's predictable.
Moments after he's gone you're flitting about the kitchen, making yourself a hot drink, with Megumi still sitting there, eyes following you.
He likes watching you. You seem unaware. And so trusting.
Maybe too trusting of his father, at least, and his intentions with you.
"Why do you let him touch you like that?"
You're stunned, letting out an incredulous laugh.
"Like what?"
But realistically, you know what he means.
It's the slapping, the grabbing, the nonchalance of it all... you know his dad doesn't respect you.
There's a long pause, while Megumi watches you mull it all over.
"Do you want me to touch you instead?"
Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you hear that deep tone again.
Standing up from the kitchen table, he slowly approaches you where you lean against the counter.
You think of the exchange you shared with him in the bathroom and how a few gentle yet deliberate touches ignited your senses.
He's getting close to you again, like that night, and his neck hangs down as his stoic gaze fixes on you.
And you realise now, with his son staring deeply into your eyes and his body close to yours, that Toji not only shows you a distinct lack of respect... but also intimacy.
You didn't know how badly you needed it until now.
Until Megumi started looking at you like this.
"You know I'll do it better."
Your eyes dip down over the buttons of his shirt. It's not as if Toji doesn't leave you feeling fulfilled.
But there's nothing else to it.
It's just mindless fucking and it's making you tired.
"Tell me."
His lips move but you can barely hear him, like you're underwater, drowning in his soul that you can see through his dark eyes.
"I, I–"
You shouldn't want him.
You can't have him.
Your lips tremble and he can see the worry in your face; he can read the guilty thoughts in your mind.
"It's not wrong for you to want this."
His fingers graze your hip.
You nod, listening to whatever excuse he has.
Whatever he'll say to make it all okay.
"To want me."
His thumb draws circles just under the hem of your top and your body starts to light up.
"He's not good enough..."
His head tilts microscopically towards the garage, his senses still fine tuned on you.
He wants to tell you more. He wants to tell you just how far out of his father's league you really are. He wants to tell you to ditch him and that he could give you so much more.
Instead he keeps his mouth shut, eyes open, focused on your heart, beating in your chest, your lips, your eyes... it's almost as if your body is sparkling for him, your iridescence pulling him closer.
His palm flattens against your waist, under your shirt, making you shiver.
"I want to show you... how you should be treated."
You nod slowly and he starts pushing up your top, his firm hand gliding over your skin.
He lets out a near inaudible hum, feeling your satin smooth body. All the while, he keeps his eyes on you, begging for permission to push higher.
And you ignore that deep ache in the pit of your stomach that's telling you Toji is only metres away, he'll catch you, along with the general message of you're going to hell for this.
But with Megumi's hands on your body you're in heaven.
So you let him continue, getting closer to what he wants, until he inhales sharply.
"No bra..." he whispers over your lips and marvels at the warmth of your skin.
He knew you were perfect, but actually feeling your body like this is almost too much for him.
He starts massaging your breast slowly and some pretty noises spill out of your mouth.
But you're quick to bite your lip when you hear the radio crackling from the garage, which serves as an unnerving reminder of just how close Toji is.
Completely disregarding that fact, along with both of your safety, Megumi's left hand slips up your top to join the right as he switches from gentle massaging to rubbing your nipples.
His thumbs glide over the two perky peaks of your breasts, with your eyes still locked in a deep, wanting stare, and he feels them harden. He nearly starts moaning when you lift your top up, feeling a sudden surge of blood through his guts, going south, and he can't help but pinch your little nipples harder.
He releases a soft sigh and arches down over your smaller frame, almost like he's bowing, and he presses a long, hot kiss to your neck. He uses his tongue and sucks gently, making heat pool between your legs.
His fingers have made your nipples so hard now and you're about to fall apart from that alone, with your hands clinging onto the fabric of his shirt. You can only breathe in little hushed gasps and each time he changes his technique from pinching to massaging to teasing you with his fingertips, you let out a small moan. Hearing this, he smiles against your neck and keeps tugging at you eagerly.
He's been with enough women by now to know that orgasm is possible through nipple simulation alone... You'd be surprised at the amount of girls that could achieve it.
But tonight he wants to take as much as he can.
Before his father walks in through that door he wants to claim you for himself.
So one hand leaves your chest to find the front of your thin, lycra-like shorts.
His middle finger skims over the front seams and he hums with a devious smirk on his lips. He's looking at you now, to watch your pretty face react to his touch.
"No panties?"
You shake your head slowly, eyes dipping down to avoid his gaze.
Those are just the house rules... Toji says no underwear, so that's how it is.
The younger Fushiguro seems to approve, since he bites back another devilish smile and locates your clit quickly, precisely, through your clothes and starts circling you there, keeping up his nipple pinching with his spare hand.
And it's now, with his hands expertly touching the most sensitive parts of your body, that he asks-
"Can I kiss you?"
In this moment, it really sinks in that you're doing something bad.
But your pretty lashes flutter and you nod your head, because sometimes good people do bad things.
He leans down over your body, everything about him making you feel so small, until his lips touch yours.
He's gentle and passionate, and he makes you feel adored.
From one kiss.
He pulls away and looks you in the eyes.
"Do you still want me to do this?"
Your whole body flushes from how quickly you nod.
"Mm," he eyes you up and down, "good. 'Cause I don't know how much more of this I can take..."
Your head tilts, lip tucked between your teeth.
"The flirting," he sighs heavily through his nose, eyes glazing over with heat and... aggression, "the staring."
You feel his fingertips push your shorts down slowly.
"The touching."
Your body trembles at the sound of his voice, and his long, dexterous fingers find what he wants the most.
His knee nudges your thigh open a fraction more and he spreads you with those fingers, sinking down, through the slick mess he made.
"You know what we do to each other."
"Mhm-" you nod again, holding your breath.
You know that he's had his eyes on every inch of your clothed body, clenching his jaw closed so he doesn't drool like a fucking dog, getting so pent up from the way you bend over the dining room table to serve his father breakfast that he has to rush off to the bathroom with the biggest erection between his legs. And on your way upstairs you've heard him moaning through that bathroom door, and you've paused on the hallway outside, lingering, listening to the distinct slap, slap, slap of him touching himself. And you wait there, squeezing your thighs together and praying that Toji doesn't walk up the stairs, until you hear his son moan for you.
"Y-yeah~" you know what you do to him, alright.
And he knows he can get you wet by looking at you.
He only has to lower his eyelids a fraction, giving you that powerful, dark stare that makes you weak, and you know what he's thinking about.
He can get you dripping with the sound of his voice and now he's got his hands down there it's all stacking up to be exactly how he imagined.
"You're so fucking wet," he breathes over your lips, starting to move his middle finger slowly. He takes pleasure in the way your eyelids flutter, especially when he runs his finger through your puffy, wet centre.
Your body shudders with his right hand buried in your shorts and his left holding your waist. His grip gets tighter when you start to squirm, almost like he's afraid you're going to run away.
But you can't and you won't because you're just as desperate as him, now tilting your head back up to his, lips drawing closer. He smirks and indulges you in another head spinning kiss.
And that's when things start to get a bit hazy.
Your breath intermingles and you can almost feel the arousal radiating off each other with every touch, and his finger starts to dig a bit deeper inside you, fingering you to the rhythm of your hot, breathy kissing until he's knuckle deep.
Your lips disconnect momentarily and you look between your bodies, seeing how he's got you pinned and defenceless, clothes pushed aside for his ministrations. And his clothes are on. His shirt pulls tight over his heaving chest and you notice his well fitting pants are looking... tighter than usual.
But you find his fingers under your chin, tilting your face back up to his. He doesn't want you to focus on that right now.
"Look at me."
He starts moving his finger a little faster while he drinks up all of your body.
And you realise now, in this heated and passionate affair, that father and son may have a commonality when it comes to love.
They're greedy.
And Megumi is willing to risk his neck to take all he can get from you.
He savours every hushed whimper you release each time he slides his finger in and out.
And he gives you a hot smirk, with his knee pressing your legs wider, his body overwhelming yours completely, and you feel a second finger pushing inside.
"One more.." his spare hand snakes up your body, over your shoulders, finding the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.
"You can fit one more, right?"
You're going to puncture your lip in a moment if he doesn't let up, with the way you're having to bite it closed.
"Mhm~" you nod quickly and he sinks in.
"Good girl."
He starts fingering you rougher now, making your thighs shake around his knee which is basically propping you up. And he watches you struggle like this for a moment until he gets fed up and drags a chair over, shoving it under your butt.
"Sit."
He commands and strips off your shorts fully.
If Toji walks in now you are well and truly fucked.
You can only watch in silent anticipation as the man before you gets on his knees.
He can feel your body start to tremble with excitement as he places kisses up the inside of your thighs. Your hands instinctively find his inky, messy hair and he gives you a look of seduction that makes your spine arch stupidly.
He watches you squirm for a moment longer, holding onto your legs, watching your pussy leak all over the chair.
And he realises how touched starved you are.
"He really doesn't do it right, hm?"
You shake your head slowly.
He gets closer, breathing over you until he can't take it and just has to taste you, and you moan in unison. Your hand flies to your mouth, his moans muffled by your pussy, and right now, you're so glad the radio is on next door or Toji would be hearing every last breath.
You try to quiet yourselves down, your excitement and pleasure turning into hot, shaky breathing. But you can't help the occasional sound that slips out. When he kisses you there, right on your clit, it feels like he's meant to be here.
And he goes slow, kissing building up into gentle licking, until he's making out with your pussy and your hands are pulling on his hair. That only makes him get rougher, more worked up, until his tongue is relentlessly circling you, and you're taking each other higher until your thighs are squeezing him and he knows that you're about to get off.
And he stops.
Going back to slow, needy kissing. You give him a shocked look, like you're scandalised.
He smirks and builds you up again.
But you can hear Toji banging around next door, fiddling with his car, and you're petrified he's going to come in at any moment. You hear him stepping around the garage, getting closer to the door, then heading back, almost like he's pacing around in there.
Realising you're distracted, Megumi sucks on your clit and nearly makes you yelp. He grabs you harder and slides his fingers between your legs, pressing at your pussy while flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue.
He slides two fingers in, making you gasp, the combination of fingering and licking getting your body shuddering instantly.
And he lets you have it.
He lets you cum all over him.
He hums and watches you ride his fingers, and after all his dirty, filthy thoughts, imagining how you sound, how you look, when you're cumming, he gets to witness you.
And you're so much more beautiful than he imagined.
He wants to see you do it over and over again.
But one will have to do for now.
And he gets a long one. Thanks to his edging, you're going for what feels like a full minute, squeezing his fingers and holding your jaw closed so tight.
And he's so impressed that you're not moaning his name.
"You did so well..."
But he's desperate to hear you, sooner rather than later, so he slides his fingers out, cleans you up and puts your clothes back in place.
The next words that leave his mouth are in the form of instructions.
He tells you exactly what to do.
The best option for avoiding any suspicion.
He'll tidy up the kitchen.
You'll go for a shower.
Once he's done, he's going out to the gym.
He'll cover your tracks.
Toji will step out into the front garden, smoke, and head to bed.
It's neat. It's tidy. And it'll work.
For now.
But you know, between now and your inevitable second encounter, you're going to have to tread very carefully.
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megumi
138 notes · View notes
allmyocsarebritish · 3 days
Text
Unspoken words, still recieved
Pairing: Alastor X reader
Warnings(?): fluff, mentions of drugs and alcohol, 5+1
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Husk
~
Husker was the first to know about your feelings towards his overlord. It had been a long, stressful day filled with Charlie's 'bonding exercises', and you wanted nothing more than to crash at the bar with a strong drink in hand. So, that was how you ended up swirling a glass of alcohol, taking the occasional sip which scorched your throat and fogged your troubled mind. Naturally, in your tipsy state your tongue was greatly loosened. Husker knew this; he was an experienced bartender, and used to listening to the bitching and whining of those intoxicated. What he didn't anticipate was exactly what slipped out.
"What would you do if you really liked someone, but you knew that they hated that kind of thing? And they'd probably hate you too if they found out?" You asked, lazily drawing circles on the counter top with your finger. Husk sighed deeply in slight irritance, once again ready to assume the role of therapist, offering a listening ear to your irrelevant problems.
"I wouldn't know, kid. I lost the ability to feel years ago." He continued to wipe the countertop, a slight frown prevalent on his extended eyebrows (what kind of description is that lmfao).
"Pfft, edgelord." You scoffed light heartedly, to which Husk offered a small smile of amusement, still not meeting your eyes.
"I guess I'll just keep it all to myself then. I doubt Al would appreciate any sort of elaborate romantic gesture anyway." You downed the last of your drink, hopping off of your stool and fishing into your pocket for change. Husk's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Radio Demon, a shadow of concern crossing his features. He gently grasped your sleeve as you reached out with a few coins, tip included, stopping you from placing them on the counter.
"Al? As in Alastor? Oh, Y/N, you've got to be fucking kidding me."
Your eyes narrowed at this. You expected the miserable old bartender to be disapproving, but hearing him voice his doubts was unpleasant to say the least.
"No, I don't think I am."
Husk rolled his eyes, your sleeve now firmly held between his claws, in a way that would rip the fabric should you try to pull away.
"Listen, kid. I know I'm not here to be your pop or anything but please, for the love of everything, stay safe. He's a dealmaker, and I wouldn't put anything past him." He could feel the invisible neon green leash uncomfortably cold against his furry neck.
"Fuck off, Husker. I can look after myself. Thanks for the drink." You scoffed, pulling away, not caring for the fresh tear in your shirt.
Husk's eyes continued to fix on the direction you exited long after your shadow had disappeared.
"Good luck, kid."
~
Charlie
Charlie was next to know, which, was inevitably going to happen eventually. It was a few weeks following your drunken outburst at the bar, and you could frequently feel Husk's eyes boring into you when you looked away. The pity was infuriating, who the fuck was he to tell you what your Alastor was like?
Charlie, ever the curious devil, noticed the tension radiating from both you and the cat, and decided to involve herself in an attempt to force the two of you back into your companionship.
"Sooo, Y/N," She clasped her hands together, bouncing up behind you as you crossed through the lobby of the hotel, her doe eyes wide and practically pleading. "I noticed you and Husk fell out. But you seemed so close to him!"
"I mean, not really." You shrugged, already trying to walk away from the awkward conversation. "He gave me whiskey, I paid him, we talked a little. I wouldn't call that 'close'."
"But what happened?" The little hellborn princess was persistent, you'd give her that.
"Husker won't understand that he doesn't dictate how I feel about someone." Deep down you knew that was a massive escalation to the situation. It wasn't Husk's fault, he was trying to keep you safe. But you weren't a child, and certainly not his.
"Wait, how you feel about someone? Y/N, do you have a crush?!"
Shit.
"It- it's not a crush." You fucked up. Big time.
"You have a crush!"
"Charlie! Stop!" Your tone was harsh, potentially too much so, causing the demon to back off slightly, although not completely.
"Oh, okay, well I've been known to be an excellent wingman! Woman? Wingwoman? It doesn't matter, if you feel comfortable I'd be absolutely honoured if you trusted-"
You zoned out halfway through her tangent, not having your usual energy to find amusement in her theatrics. You promptly excused yourself, slipping out of the hotel, preparing yourself to take a walk and clear your mind.
"Princess, I know you want to help her, don't push it. The best thing you can do is let her deal with it herself. Trust me, I'd know." Husk warned following your departure, memories of your hostile response to his advice fresh in his mind.
Charlie absolutely did push it.
In fact, you could probably consider her behaviour that followed for the next two weeks low-level stalking. It was her mission to set you up with whoever you fancied. After all, all she wanted was for you to be happy.
Although, after 14 whole days of trying her hardest, she had almost given up on finding out who it was that caught your eye. That was until she saw you with Alastor. It was subtle, not something anyone would notice had they not been searching. But the level of digging she had done on you made it obvious.
The respect you held for the overlord was unmatched by any other. Your usual fairly hot-headed personality had much less of a bite, more aimed towards others than the radio star. Not to mention the way your eyes lit up as soon as he entered the room.
Oh.
Well, this was a spanner in the works she didn't expect. But it was alright, if there was a way for you and Al to be together, Charlie would do her best to help you both reach that conclusion.
~
Vaggie
Naturally, as soon as Charlie knew of your feelings, so did Vaggie. This was to be expected, even though you weren't necessarily aware that the princess was onto you, it wasn't rocket science that word would pass eventually.
"I just need to find a way to set them up! Oh Vaggie, how cute would they be?!"
Charlie paced through their shared bedroom, ranting to her girlfriend as the fallen angel sat on the bed.
"Cute? Alastor?" Vaggie snorted, refusing to accept that as a way to describe him.
"But Vaggie!! Imagine them together! Oh, she could absolutely soften him up! Imagine Alastor all sweet and in love! Maybe it'll push him into redemption and they can be all smiling and happy in heaven!!"
"Babe," Vaggie interrupted the ceaseless yapping (I'm so sorry but there's no other way to accurately phrase it lmao. Charlie's a yapper) "Seriously don't push it. You know Alastor isn't the type to go all gooey eyed over some girl, even if it is someone he's close to. So don't expect anything, just leave her to get over it herself."
Charlie drew out a long, exaggerated sigh, showing her disappointment.
"I know you want to make them happy, sweetie, but some things just aren't meant to be." Vaggie held her girlfriend's hands in one of her own, the other resting on the Princess's cheek.
Ultimately, Vaggie held a high level of concern for you in this scenario. She hoped and prayed for your safety, though she knew better than to meddle in your business. Despite this, she did make a mental note to keep an eye on you, the angel would never forgive herself if you made a deal she could have prevented. Of course, none of this she could voice to Charlie; her girlfriend adored Alastor and looked up to him, so she opted to keep this to herself, as she hoped you would do also.
~
Angel
Angel was someone in the hotel whom you truly did consider a friend. And, friends trust friends, or at least according to your wasted brain they did. So, you came clean to the spider, and, in the process, subjected yourself to an eternity of even more torment. For fuck's sake, you were already in hell.
"Angel?" You asked cautiously, tone sending a shiver of worry into the demon. Your voice held an aura of seriousness, something that made him rather uncomfortable.
"Ya'lright, toots?" He asked, his own words reflecting the slight anxiousness you had bestowed.
"Yeah, just got a 2am confession to make." You responded, eyes focusing on the ceiling, your body draped over Angel's bed. The two of you were sprawled over it with your heads together in the middle, although the spider was substantially closer to toppling off than yourself. He chuckled at your revelation, feeling the slight worry vanish.
"Well, then go ahead."
You took a deep breath, drug induced confidence already beginning to ebb. Another long drag of your joint however, and sobering up was no longer a cause for concern. Yet.
"You know Alastor?"
"Yeah?" Angel asked, already suspicious of how this was going.
"I'm just saying-"
"HeAr mE oUt" Angel mocked, to which you swatted his arm, leading to the star erupting into a fit of laughter at you retaliation.
"You're inta Smiles?!" Angel laughed "Well, Sugar tits, now I've seen everythin!"
"Shut the fuck up, Anthony." You grumbled, despite suppressing a smirk at Angel's antics. There was no getting yourself out of this one now.
~
Niffty
Niffty was not one you were expecting to have to explain yourself to. But, being the nosy little bug she was, you realised only too late that she was peering at your phone screen as you texted Angel Dust.
"You like Alastor?"
"What? No! I-" Niff's singular, unblinking eye bore directly into you soul, unsettling you and making your mouth run dry with unease. You sighed, holding up your hands in submission.
"Maybe."
"I think you should go tell him! You know he really likes you too? I honestly can't blame you, he is a bad boy" the little bug let out an unhinged, slightly manical laugh. You cringed at the way she referred to your Alastor, almost entirely missing the part where she said he liked you back.
Wait.
He liked you back?
You tried your bloody hardest not to raise your hopes after that one, this was Niffty we were talking about. But regardless, there was a possibility!
"Wait, he likes me too?" You asked, trying not to show the way adrenaline and excitement pumped through your body at this potential revelation.
"Oh, yeah. I heard him talking to Rosie about it a couple weeks 'go. Said it was a 'disgusting weakness he couldn't show to anyone'"
Oh.
Well.
That wasn't exactly helpful.
But at least he liked you back?
"So what did she say?!" You asked, suspense rising.
"Who?" Niffty asked, eyes wide and staring at you in utter bewilderment.
"Rosie!" You responded incredulously.
"About what?"
"Alastor!"
"Oh! She said that he should get over it and just tell you, that he'd feel better and even if you didn't feel the same way you'd understand 'cause you're human too. And if not he could just eat you."
"What?!!"
"Although I might have made that last part up." She tapped a spindly finger against her chin in concentration, trying her hardest to recall the conversation.
Your brows raised in concern before shaking your head and resigning not to question her.
"Okay, well, thanks, Niff. I gotta go now but I appreciate you telling me!" Your exit was rushed, but you really didn't want Niffty to catch you delighting in your newfound optimism. (Kicking your heels and squealing).
~
Alastor
Two days. You had spent two days preparing what you would say to Al and how, yet no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't for the (after) life of you think of what to do or say.
The worst part was the fact your favourite bartender was no longer there for you to turn to when life got tricky. So, you resolved to drowning your sorrows in your own alcohol, and, in the process, inexplicably and subconsciously avoiding your Alastor.
The Radio Demon did not like this.
Every time he descended to the lobby you were missing. Every time he walked to Cannibal town you weren't accompanying him. Every time he broadcasted you weren't waiting for him outside the tower.
This was becoming a problem; Alastor held you so highly in his estimations that he found your presence more than tolerable. So the fact that you just up and disappeared left him feeling an odd sensation.
Emptiness? It was strange, unpleasant and Alastor didn't like it. He was no fool: he knew of his feelings for you, and, after months of denial, finally reached some sort of acceptance of the merciless scenario he found himself in. Such a powerful overlord resigned to a schoolboy crush. Pathetic, really.
But, this loneliness wouldn't do. No, it wouldn't do at all. So, Alastor was going to do something about it. Force proximity with you? Of course not, that was far too desparate, even for these circumstances.
His eyes trailed across the lobby before landing on the bar, and subsequently, the bartender. Bingo!
"Husker! My dear fellow~"
"Go fuck yourself." The cat raised a middle finger to Alastor, bottle held to his lips and tilted.
"Now is that any way to talk to your old pal?" Al taunted. Oh this was fun; how he adored pissing off Husk. In fact, he almost even forgot the motivation for his inquiry.
You.
"Say, Husker. Is there a chance that you've seen Y/N around here recently? She seems to be avoiding me for some strange reason."
Husk scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I wonder why."
Alastor's eyes narrowed as his smile tensed. "Careful, my friend." He warned.
"Listen, boss," Venom spiked the cat's tone, insincerity lacing the word. "I haven't seen her in a week or so. We had a... disagreement and she's avoiding me. Go find her yourself if you're so fucking concerned."
Well, that was conclusive. "Indeed I will. So long, Husker!" Al hopped off the barstool and made for your room, hoping you would be there, as to not look a fool.
Yes, that was it.
Raising a fist to the door, the Radio Demon knocked.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
At the third and final knock, you opened the door, recognising the clear, precise knock.
"Hello, my dear!" His transatlantic voice rang out, laced with static as ever.
"Hi, Al." You responded, quiet and solemnly.
"Why so glum? Smile, my dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" His clawed fingers came to rest at the corners of your mouth, delicately and fondly pushing upwards. His own permanent grin softened as he looked at you, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.
"Have you been intentionally avoiding me, Cher?" He blurted out, surprising even himself.
"What?! Ha, Al, don't make me laugh! I'd never avoid you, how ridiculous!"
He narrowed his eyes at you. "Cher."
"Al."
"Be honest with me."
There it was. That thing he had about him, making it impossible to lie.
"I wasn't intentionally avoiding you." You drew out. " And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
"But, why?"
"Because I love you."
After freezing like a deer in headlights, (HA) his face morphed into an expression entirely unreadable, even to you.
Shit.
Fuck.
Bollocks.
You fucked up. That was it. Friendship over. Potentially even afterlife over.
"Al? I'm sorry I-" you were interrupted but the feeling of his arms wrapping around you. It was slow and gentle, as though you were made of fragile porcelain, easily breakable beneath his warm embrace.
"It's okay, Cher"
I love you too unspoken words, yet still received.
Bonus:
You hopped onto the barstool as Husk refused to meet your eyes. A long, awkward silence drew out, and you kicked your legs, fingers drumming on your knee. Realising there was no way the bartender was speaking first, you resolved to dive straight into your apology.
"Husk? I'm sorry. I was a bitch and shouldn't have taken it out on you because you were only trying to keep me safe-"
Your apology was cut short as a shot of whiskey slid across the counter towards you. You smirked and brightened when you looked up to meet Husk grinning at you.
"Well if that wasn't the most insincere fucking bullshit I've ever heard."
You rolled your eyes, downing the alcohol in one, causing your throat to sting and eyes to water.
"Just stay safe, kid. That's all I ask."
"Deal." You joked, sticking out your hand.
"Deal." Husk responded sarcastically, though the both of you knew it was lightheaded. You were just grateful to have your favourite bartender back.
134 notes · View notes
Text
“To lead a better life, I need my love to be here”
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Summary: Toji notices something is off about you after you take care of Megumi. Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt, comfort, toji x black!stepmom! Reader
CW: Literally nothing, toji and reader curse, discussions of addiction, Toji calls reader Ma
A/N: This man takes up too much space in my brain. 🤡
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6:47 P.M 
Toji knew there was something off when he came back home that day. 
The silence engulfed the house, with only the occasional sound of your knife slicing into the meat you were preparing for dinner. 
7:25 P.M 
When he finally gets a good look at you at dinner, you look shaky. Your eyes swirl with worry. So, he bites.
“How was the parent-teacher conference?” 
You snap your head up and put a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “It went well. Megumi is a great student, the teachers are mostly worried because he is quiet. They say he needs to participate more in class and interpersonal discussions.” 
Megumi casually rolls his eyes hearing the conversation and goes back to finishing his vegetables. 
Toji looks you over. Maybe, you're just tired? Probably, a mood swing of yours. He shrugs and looks down at his plate. 
“...Ok.” 
10:00 P.M
The night is deadly quiet. He hoped that after Megumi had gone to sleep, you would be better. You weren’t. So, he put his faith in a good night’s rest. It’s been an off day for you, you can just sleep it off. 
3:30 A.M 
Toji wakes up to an empty bed. He fucking hates it. It reminds him of the lonely days of being a widower. He slowly gets up and begins his mission to find you. 
He checks the bathroom and doesn’t find you nor does he find you in the guest bedroom. So, he goes downstairs. He finds you lying on the couch with the tv playing some type of liminal rain ASMR, or whatever white noise helps you sleep. However, when he peeks over the arm, you’re still awake. 
“Ma, are you aware of what time it is?” He asks cheekily. 
You slowly rise and rub your eyes. Even with the low glow of the TV, he can tell they’re puffier than usual. He bites for a second time. 
“Hey Ma, what’s got you so worked up huh?” 
You look down. “Nothing, baby.” 
Toji sits down on the couch. The third time is the charm right? 
“Bullshit. What happened? Hm?” 
You sigh. Toji has always been persistent. 
“Toji..have you ever noticed that Megumi is like really mature for his age?”
He tilts his head to the side as if you’ve asked him the most idiotic question. 
“ ‘m, yeah. What about it?” 
You scratch at the nicotine patch on your arm. You stopped smoking when Toji decided he and Megumi would move in with you almost a year ago. 
“I don’t see any reason why you should stop, seems like more trouble than it’s worth.” 
“Kids learn by example, If I smoke what kind of message is that sending to Megumi?” 
You fiddle with the patch, still unused to the foreign feel as you grin. 
“Besides, I don’t think he would like the smell.”
“Toji…that’s not normal.” You sigh. 
He raises a brow. He knew Megumi was different. However, he always accepted  it as a funny, convenient quirk. 
You stand up and drag your hands down your face. 
“Kids are kids for a reason Toji. They’re supposed to be chaotic, messy, emotional, hell even unpredictable. Megumi is none of those. Every move that child makes is so carefully planned and throughout. He’s never excited about toys, games, or cartoons. he’s always offering to help around the house, Toji he fuckin asked me about our finances once. Hell, even his teachers agree! How can you look me dead in the eyes and tell me that a 6-year-old is “Mature for his age” as a good thing!” 
You take a heavy pause. You scratch at your leg. 
“He’s only a first grader Toji. He shouldn’t be like this. He-he shouldn’t be a mini adult! He shouldn’t have his guard up all the fuckin time! He’s a child!” 
You sit back down on the couch and throw your head between your legs. Toji rubs your hands that are placed on the back of your head. 
Your voice cracks, “And-and I know I’m not his mother, hell, I’d never try to replace her. I don’t need him to call me “mom” and have me baby him 24/7, but god..god I’m so fuckin worried.” 
You raise your head slightly. Your eyes have become more red and puffy with unshed tears. Toji knows you hate crying. You’ve only cried in front of him twice. First time when you thought your pet Doberman ran away. Second, when you picked Megumi up from school, his homeroom teacher referred to you as his mother. 
“I…I just want to tell him that he’s safe. That-that he doesn’t have to worry about not keeping everything in check. That he can exist without having to be “useful”, that he’s not a burden or unlovable because he’s a little kid. I just want him to exist. I just- just don’t want him to turn out like us.” 
You slump back on the couch and scratch your nicotine patch again. You look at Toji with glossy eyes. 
Usually, he’d put in a snarky remark of “What’s so wrong about me, huh?” but he’s all too aware. Additionally, the shock of you acknowledging your family. He’s always had suspicions, but he, of all people, knew better than to ask. If someone doesn’t talk about their family, its for a reason.
He looks back at you and pulls you into a hug. You lay your head on his broad shoulder. You’re shaking. He slowly leans back to lay you both down. He runs his hand through your scalp. 
“You know…” He quietly speaks, almost as if he’s afraid to startle you. 
You turn your head to hear him better. 
“I think..you’re pretty great. I think…that me and Megumi are thankful to have someone like you. It’s hard right now…but things take time. Don’t push yourself.” 
A few loose tears fall as you snuggle in closer to him. 
“Thank you, baby.”
76 notes · View notes
tiredfox64 · 2 days
Note
🔆 you’re popping off. your writing rocks brah.
I was hoping maybe you could do Raiden and Kung Lao fighting over readers (fem/afab) attention. Like back and forth jabs. And like Kung Lao trying to show off, kinda talks down on raiden in front of her. where as Raiden takes a more gentle approach with helping the reader with their training, helping her with her form he’ll glance at Kung Lao knowingly. It builds a small wedge between them, so reader decides to invite both over one night. And like you know that movie challengers? Like the zendaya scene where she’s got the two guys kissing her? Like THAT. LIKE THAT. If you can do this. I’ll piss rainbows. 🌈
Are You Challenging Me?
Prior notes: I had only the trailer to work off of so I hope I got things right. Also what a statement from you at the end. It’s not bad it’s unique and I like it.
Pairings: Kung Lao x Afab reader x Raiden
Warnings ‼️: Suggestive at the end
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Even those who have been friends for so long can end up fighting over something. That something could be a girl. That girl would be you.
No one has ever seen Raiden and Kung Lao turn a friendly competition into a serious one. Constant bickering and jabs at each other that turn to hisses from nasty remarks. You would only see this kind of tension from middle school boys or some cheesy teen movie from the 2000s. Ah but boys will be boys. Who can blame them?
You are the prettiest girl they’ve ever seen. Not just that but you are tough and always willing to learn more. That’s why you train with them so much. Well, it used to be training. Things have changed since you came around. Mostly their attitude and their closeness.
You knew Kung Lao was cocky and boastful, even for a Shaolin monk. The things he did in front of you made the other monks groan in frustration and caused Raiden to shake his head in disapproval. He was always calling for your attention.
“Hey! Hey! Look! I can spin as fast as a tornado!” “Check this out! I can beat up five guys at once!” “I bet Raiden can’t strike as fast as I can! What do you think?”
That was the usual stuff you would hear. Though comparing himself to Raiden was mostly common. He would put Raiden down the moment he had the chance. It would go beyond fighting and go into ridiculous stuff.
He can eat more than Raiden. He can jump higher than Raiden. He can stay up later than Raiden. Everything Raiden could do, Kung Lao could do better. He’ll prove it again right now.
Kung Lao ran up to you and Raiden, almost crashing right into him.
“Hey Raiden, how about another fight? Whoever loses has to pay the next time we visit Madame Bo’s.” Kung Lao was hoping he would say yes just so he could beat Raiden up.
“I can’t, Kung Lao. Can’t you see we are busy?”
“Oh I see. You’re afraid of losing again. Bet you’re afraid of embarrass yourself in front of her. Don’t worry, I get it.” He patted Raiden on the back before letting out a laugh like he successfully humiliated him.
“That’s not it,” he rolls his eyes before speaking, “I’m helping her with training right now. We can fight soon just let me finish up here.”
Raiden loved to help you and you were grateful for that. Though it always seemed like you needed adjusting when it came to your form or help when stretching. Even if you are a centimeter off he had to correct you. Guess he is a perfectionist. Or maybe he is sneaky.
Raiden came behind you and placed his hands on your waist. His foot tapped yours to make it move to the side more. You didn’t notice but he gave a light squeeze to your waist. He wished he could wrap his arms around you but now is not the time. Though it would upset Kung Lao a lot.
His hands traced up your arms till they were at your head. Your face was so soft he wanted to kiss it. But all he can do now is adjust it. Raiden glanced at Kung Lao and saw he was almost seething with rage. For once he decided to be a little cruel to his dear friend.
He went down till his face was inches away from your thigh. His hands grabbed at the tantalizing piece of flesh before him and turned it slightly. Now your form was perfect.
Kung Lao couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Though Raiden’s straw hat was concealing his eyes it could not conceal that smirk on his face. He knows exactly what he was doing. He’s just too good at hiding his devilish intentions behind a sweet, kissable face.
It seems that no matter how many time Kung Lao shows off, Raiden will always be the winner here. He’s the one who gets to touch you.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
You’re not dense you can feel that something is wrong. There is tension in the air and it only appears when Kung Lao and Raiden are in the same vicinity.
You have been keeping a close eye on their relationship. They have been drifting apart for some time now. Everyone can see that. What you didn’t get was why. You were missing the signs. You missed the glances Raiden would give to Kung Lao. You missed the fact that Kung Lao would only call for your attention, not anyone else’s.
You had to do something about this. It would be a shame if their friendship crumbled over something silly. Whatever that silly thing was.
Inviting them over to your place was a great start. Though they might be shocked when they see each other at your place. You might have left that out on purpose.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
“What the—what are you doing here, Raiden?”
“What am I doing here? I should be asking you the same thing, Kung Lao.”
They both stared at each other with mouths agape. They were confused as if the possible reason was outlandish. It’s not like there is a universal rule that you can only invite one person to your place.
“What are you two standing there for? Come inside, you’ll catch your deaths out there.” You called for them.
They didn’t even realize you opened the door. But now that they do they were racing to get it. Kung Lao pushed Raiden out of the way, leaving him with a disappointed expression.
Your place was well decorated and well kept. It’s only you living in this small house. That doesn’t make it any less of a home. Your house expresses you which the boys really like. They followed you closely but realize you were heading in the direction of your room. There was hesitation, especially from Raiden. Why not just stay in the living room? What gives?
You don’t have time for this stupidity. You grabbed their hands and dragged them into your room. They always imagined being in your room , of course that fantasy always involved you on the bed and the other one not being there. Clearly none of that good stuff will happen, right?
“Alright, sit down, I need to ask you guys something.” You plopped down on your bed.
The bed is off limits in their minds. The chairs? No. The bean bag? No. The floor? Probably a safe bet.
They sat in front of you, looking up at you like loving puppies waiting to be loved by their master. That’s not the first order of business tonight. Don’t be fooled by their eyes. There is still a wedge between them.
“Mind telling me what’s got you two so bothered. Don’t act like I haven’t noticed your strange behavior recently. I’m concerned about you guys.”
They can tell that you really care just by the tone of your voice. But a silence still hung in the air. Kung Lao nor Raiden wanted to speak the truth. It’s awkward, especially with your bro there. Kung Lao’s cockiness got to him though, reminding him of who he is. He shouldn’t be afraid so he’ll say it.
“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He declared.
Well that was a shock. You know what else shocked you? Raiden.
“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He said as well.
They glared at each other after saying that. They don’t even acknowledge the fact that you were sitting there with a confused expression. It’s not usual for two men to ask you out at the same time, in the same way. It was at least straight forward. You snapped your fingers at them to bring their attention back to you. Like the good boys they are they obey.
“How often does this happen? Going after the same girl?” You asked.
“Not as often as you think.” Raiden responded.
“We usually have different types.” Kung Lao chimed in.
This is weird. Somehow you were the connection between them when it came to types yet at the same time being the wedge between them.
“So…are you saying I should be flattered?”
“Aren’t you everybody’s type?” Kung Lao said it so innocently that it was smooth. He does good when he’s not trying too hard.
Think about this for yourself now. It’s no lie that you like them both. They have their own quirk that draws you in. You love Raiden’s kindness yet ability to be brutal while in battle. He works hard and is willing to guide others to try hard as well. Kung Lao’s cockiness can be annoying to others but it enriches you. It gives him confidence and the ability to think of new ideas. That razor-rimmed hat didn’t come out of thin air. There is so much you can say and love about them. But which one do you choose?
Alright, you have an idea. A weird one but it’s an idea.
“Come here.” You motioned for them to join you on your bed.
“Which one of us?” Kung Lao asked but Raiden was already up and running to your bed. Kung Lao got there just as quick as he did.
Nothing else was said from you. You only had actions. You leaned into Raiden first, bringing his head closer to yours. Your lips captured his in a passionate kiss. It was just like everything he imagined. Your lips were soft and had the slightest hint of vanilla that came from your favorite lip balm. He was practically melting in the palm of your hands as he wished this could last forever. But you pulled away, you have someone else to get to.
When you turned towards Kung Lao he has an upset expression on his face. It turned to shock the moment he felt your lips against his. That softness and the taste of vanilla enchanted him. He almost turned the passionate kiss into a whole make out session. That desperation to have you and touch you himself was building up for quite a while. He doesn’t want to hold himself back. But just like with Raiden you pulled away.
From the kisses you gave to them you came to the conclusion that you like them both equally. You don’t want to break either one of their hearts since it will break yours as well. So why not have both men. This can do good in bringing their friendship together again. It might even make it stronger. Yeah, this can work out. And you would have told them but they came to a similar conclusion as well. That will be discussed later.
For now you are more focused on their lips that are leaving kisses all over your neck. It makes your body heat rise up and causes a stir between your legs. Their hands are all over you. Kung Lao’s reaches for your neck to hold it still while Raiden’s reaches for your chest. You whimper at the sensation of their tongues lightly licking your skin. Kung Lao thinks it best to stay leaving hickeys on you. It will show everyone who you belong to. Raiden should do the same so that all know that you belong to them.
They lightly push you back against your bed. There is a hunger in their eyes. One that has built up for days. Raiden just can’t wait to hold you close as Kung Lao goes to town on you.
There is no shame is wanting this as well. Don’t hide that devious smirk from them. It will let them know to keep going.
You know what they say. Sharing is caring. And they care for you a lot.
After notes: If you’re gonna piss rainbows do it in the ditch I dug. If a skittle don’t fall out imma be disappointed. I have a sneaking suspicion that imma be asked of more from this. I didn’t want to push it beyond anything I’m sorry if you wanted more. Now I must finish eating before I mentally prepare myself for my class tonight. Adiós!
69 notes · View notes
eupheme · 11 hours
Text
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— common ground [into the fire, part iii]
part i | part ii | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 4k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death
a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖
“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”
His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”
“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”
“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”
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"Fuck!”
You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.
This wasn't what you had in mind.
You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.
The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.
He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.
"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."
You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.
A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.
"What?" He asks, at your expression.
"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.
It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.
A shrug, "They shot first."
"You goaded them."
You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.
"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"
"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."
He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."
A second, before he steps away.
"These weren't those kind of people."
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You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.
Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.
The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.
Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.
Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.
You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.
There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.  
Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.
You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.
"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.
There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.
It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.
"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.
"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."
"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”
Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.
Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.
“Said you need water?”
"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."
"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."
The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.
“Where’d you learn to do this?”
It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.
“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”
People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.
You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.
That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.
“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”
“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”
The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.
“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.
“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”
It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.
The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.
A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.
You think he does rest - a rarity.
You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.
Taking the rare chance to do it freely.
In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.
But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.
His presence feels the same.
A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.
It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.
If you got close enough-
Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?
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You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.
In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.
What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.
Liquid gold, in comparison.
“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.
Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.
The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.
“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”
The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.
“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”
Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.
“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”
He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.
Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.
Would he let you touch him?
He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.
“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”
That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.
They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.
Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -
“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.
You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.
Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.
Maybe you still could.
“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”
A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.
Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.
“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”
The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.
“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”
The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.
Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.
Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.
Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”
“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.
“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.
You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.
Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.
You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.
“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.
“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”
It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.
He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin.
“You need it that bad, sweetheart?”
Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.
“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”
“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”
His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”
The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.
“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”
A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”
You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.
Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.
The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.
“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”
He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.
Letting himself watch.
“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.
“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”
Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.
Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.
It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.
“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.
Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.
As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.
See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.
“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”
Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.
It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.
You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.
“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.
Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.
“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”
Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.
Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.
Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.
“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”
It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.
“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”
Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.
Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.
The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.
Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.
Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.
Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.
It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.
He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.
Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.
Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.
A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.
You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.
His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him.
A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.
Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.
A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.
Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.
You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.
Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.
Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.
“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.
“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”
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You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.
The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.
It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.
You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.
A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.
It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.
That maybe you could clean it up.
That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.
It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.
A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles. 
His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.
The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.
Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.
It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.
And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.
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save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)
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bwabys-scenarios · 18 hours
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Kurapika can’t stand being away from you, his cute chubby girlfriend. You’re his everything, the only person that makes him feel complete and whole.
Before, Kurapika could hardly call himself clingy, but after meeting you he can’t deny the allegation. All he wants to do is cling to you as tight as possible, basking in your love and affection.
When he’s down, you comfort him, letting him lay his head on your chest or soft tummy while you play with his pretty blonde hair. His nightmares are frequent, and he often wakes you up in tears, begging to be held and to know that you won’t leave him all alone.
You’re so soft, a comfort that Kurapika has denied himself for so long. He wouldn’t let himself have those simple comforts, thinking he didn’t deserve it. But how could he deny you, his beloved? Warm, kind, and ever so soft. So curling up with you and getting to nestle against your plush frame after a hard day is more than enough to have him sighing in contentment.
One thing Kurapika enjoys is feeding you. Whether it be sweets, savory foods, or some kind of fruit/vegetable, he swoons when you make a happy face as he places something delicious to your lips. Plump women were desired in his clan, and making sure your significant other was well fed and happy was a way to show you cared.
So his pretty cherub eating from his hand, smiling and happy was all he wanted. Getting to lick up any of the mess was also… very satisfying.
Kurapika had once thought he’d spend his life alone, with no one there to love or accept him for who he truly was… but then he met you.
Already, he was attracted to your plump form and cute chubby cheeks, but you were endlessly kind and understanding, always sitting with him after he drank himself stupid and patting his back while he threw up.
Sometimes, the survivors guilt made simply existing a sin to him. Why did he get to keep living after his entire clan was wiped out? He wondered if everything would stop hurting if he just left this world and joined his kin in the afterlife…
But then he’d remember you and realize that if he stopped living, he would never feel your warmth again. He would never get to hold you tight to him, never get to hear you laugh and giggle when he said something that wasn’t supposed to be funny, but made you laugh anyways. He’d never get to teasing pinch your chubby cheek when you messed up and scold you, making those cute cheeks heat up until he felt the urge to coo and gently caress them.
And most importantly, if he died, he’d be leaving the woman he adored behind. That’s when he realized he had fallen for you, and that nothing could separate him from you, not even his own depression and pain.
So Kurapika decided to live for you until he could learn to live for himself, and living for you and everything so easy and sweet.
He spoiled you, taking you shopping often, getting you custom made clothing when the items in store didn’t come in your size or fit like they were supposed to. Any little thing you asked for was yours, and he quite enjoyed getting to see you all dolled up for him.
Especially when he got to take it all off and make love to you after a romantic date together.
Getting to fuck into your warm, fat pussy and hold onto your plump thighs as you writhed and moaned beneath him really made Kurapika glad he stuck around. Otherwise he wouldn’t be cumming inside his princess, filling her chubby tummy to the brim with his seed.
Suckling on your pretty breasts, covering your neck in his love bites and marking you as his makes him feel at ease. Although he feels a bit bad watching you put on a scarf to hide all the marks he left, part of him is proud. You’re his little cherub, and no one else can have you.
The only thing that could ever make him love you more would be the sight of your already plump tummy swelling with his child.
Kurapika wants to take care of you for the rest of his life and provide you a comfortable life. He adores you, you’re all he has left. And when you only have one thing left, you treat it with the utmost care, don’t you?
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thebestofoneshots · 2 days
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Hi love just wondering when the priest Remus fic will be out? I LOVE LOVE your writing and I am so excited for this one
I truly hope It's this Friday! Especially with the GC chapter we're going to have, I feel like you guys deserve a little compensation. If I can't manage though, it will surely be next week.
Now, and to build more excitement, a little teaser:
NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN | TEASER
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Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them. Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him). Warnings: The complete story will contain smut. Innocence! Kink, allusion to fingering and self-pleasure. Reader is seducing a catholic priest and has a bit of a corruption!kink. Smut under the cut.
After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.” 
“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.” 
“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.” 
“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.” 
“The way I see it, Saint Griffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see beautiful priest Remus.” 
“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been craved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.
“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and leaving exiting the church. 
You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.
Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be. 
He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his atention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.
(...)
The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray. 
That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?” 
It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.” 
He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was. 
almost.
“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.” 
“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?” 
Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you? 
Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps it would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you. 
“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you. 
Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”
His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end. 
 “I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.” 
You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.” 
“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.” 
“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–“ Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.” 
“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it. 
“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.” 
“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?” 
“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course. 
“Pray Our Father 10 times and–“ 
“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”
Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.” 
You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.” 
Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man. 
(…)
Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in a way that was almost painful. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned. 
“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dead and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.” 
“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it. 
“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood. 
“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?” 
Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.” 
Read More Marauders Fiction Here
No sweeter innocence than our gentle sin will be out soon!
Tag list open (Just tell me if you want to be added)
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itsthestutterforme · 2 days
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Should We Try Again? 1/2 (toxic!Rafe Cameron x toxic!reader)
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Summary: Rafe tries to accuse you of cheating, and you did some snooping of your own. And when Rafe found out you went through his phone, you were in for it.
Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, Topper is a really good friend in this fic, reader is black, dark themes (choking, threats, arguing, name calling, overall just toxic behavior)
If any of these making you uncomfortable, pls don’t read. Take care of yourselves.
**
You and Rafe had one of your fights again. The yelling match, screaming in each other’s face kind of fight.
The kind of fight where the police gets called because someone heard glass breaking and shouting.
This particular time, he logged into your Instagram and founded close to 50 DMs from guys commenting on your stories where you posted your OOTDs.
You never opened any of the DMs but there were too many to go unnoticed.
“Do you get off on having other guys want you or something? Huh?” He starts as he abruptly forces his way into the bathroom where you were showering.
“What are you talking about, Rafe?” You snark, ringing out the water from your hair.
“What the hell is this?” He rips the shower curtain open.
“Rafe!” You scold, shutting off the water so none leaks onto the floor. He shoves his phone in your face and repeats, “What the hell is this?”
“They’re DMs, Rafe. Why are you talking to me like I did something wrong?”
“Because you did do something wrong by not blocking these sons of bitches. You like the attention, don’t you? You fucking slut.”
“Don’t you dare call me a slut, asshole. It’s DMs. They don’t mean shit!”
You close the shower curtain so you can resume your shower when he ripped it open again.
“Oh it means something when they’re sending dick pics, Y/N! They want to fuck you!”
“It doesn’t matter if they want me because I’m with you, Rafe. Not them.” You tried to reason.
You were already exhausted from work and you really didn’t need this right now.
“You’ve been sending them nudes, haven’t you?” “Are you fucking serious, Rafe?” “Do I look like I’m joking right now?” He says flatly, his nose flaring angrily.
“No, I haven’t sent anybody nudes. I didn’t even know they sent me dick pics because I don’t open them, Rafe.” He gives you a pointed look and you crossed your arms as a challenge.
It was clear you weren’t going to shower in peace so why not add some fuel to this fire.
“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Shame on me for having fifty unopened DMs but everything is okay when you have hundreds of opened DMs?” You antagonize, slowly stepping out of the shower with suds still on your body.
You watch as his face fell for a few seconds before it hardens once again.
“You’ve been going through my phone?” He asks. “Of course I have! Because I know you’ve been in my phone, desperate to find secrets to use against me. So I figure why not dig up some secrets of my own.”
“Y/N,” he warns lowly, taking a step towards you.
“What did you find?” He wrote down a few things about the cross.
Like where he’s already looked and potential places where it might be. But he hid those notes behind a passcode in his journal.
There were also a few texts of Ward asking ‘if it was taken care of’. Garret’s body.
There was no way you could figure out the passcode, right?
“What are you so scared I would find?” You questioned, purposely being vague. There was no point in being specific, if he was going to connect the dots for you.
His anxiety got the best of him and he wraps a hand around your throat, giving it a warning squeeze.
“Stop being cute and tell me what you saw.” He orders.
There wasn’t a constant pressure so you were able to breathe fairly normal. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind.
“I only went through your social media and some of your messages. Nothing else.” His hand twitched around your throat when you mentioned messages.
“I just wanted to see if you were texting others girls.” You added, wrapping your hands around his wrist.
“What else?” “Nothing else, I swear.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.” “I’m not lying to you.” He pulls away from your throat and you instinctively touched your collar bone.
His gaze softens when you stepped away from him. He itched to get close to you and apologize for over reacting, but he still wasn’t sure that you didn’t know about the gold and the bodies.
So his hands remained by his sides, tightening every so often.
“What are you protecting?” You asked cautiously. “Don’t pull that shit again.” He states before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the front door of your house.
That was a few days ago, and you haven’t spoke to each other since. The most interaction you’ve had was him viewing your story. That’s it.
You’ve been going straight home after work, not wanting to interact with anyone unless you had to.
But a small part of you wished you’d come home to Rafe waiting for you on your door step or him come to see you during your break.
But he never did. That was enough for you to come to the conclusion that he stopped caring about you.
He was so worried about protecting something or someone that was willing to choke you out to protect it.
You’ve seen him anxious about a few things but nothing set him off like you did that night.
You were watching one of your comfort movies with your fleece blanket wrapped around you, eating some stir fry you ordered on UberEats when your phone chimed.
Topper: hey you doing okay?
Tossing the phone back on the bed, you used the chopsticks to dip a piece of beef into the speciality sauce before eating it.
Your phone chimed again.
Topper: We were friends before you started dating Rafe, remember? I care about you too.
You: I assume Rafe told you everything?
Topper: Just that you had an argument and you’re on a break
You: Well that’s an oversimplification.
Topper: I’m throwing a party tonight. You should come.
You: I’m not exactly in the mood to get hit on by a bunch of drunk dudes.
Topper: Stick by me and you won’t have that problem.
You: You’re right. Instead, you would have a Rafe sized problem.
Topper: I’m not scared of Rafe.
Topper: Just come by for a few. It makes me feel uneasy that you’re by yourself at home all this time.
Topper: Please.
You: Fine, Topper.
Topper: Great! I’m on my way.
**
You hated yourself for how quick your eyes locked in on Rafe as soon as he walked into the party wearing a navy blue shirt and a white hat that matched his white cargo shorts.
He dapped up a few guys that greeted him by the front door and looked straight up to where you were sitting next to Topper.
He found you almost immediately with an expressionless face.
Your heart skipped a beat that he looked for you but that feeling of elation left you as quickly as it came.
He didn’t reach out to you for three days. No call. No text. No apology. He was done and now it was your turn to feel the same.
“You two are like magnets,” Topper says from behind you. “Toxic ones,” he eventually adds with a chuckle.
“I knew you were going to say that,” you teased, playfully hitting his shoulder.
Sadness kicked your gut when two girls approached Rafe, one of them ran her hands over his chest as she went to whisper something in his ear.
“I’m going to grab another drink.” You said when you notice Rafe coming up the stairs with the girls.
“I’ll come with you,” you gave him a look. “What? I meant it when I said stick by me. Let’s go.”
He lets you lead the way and you go down the second set of stairs but you stopped abruptly, peering down at your jewelry.
Everything you were wearing was gifted to you by Rafe, even down to the earrings. You still wore the R golden plate necklace and matching anklet. You had his signet ring on your thumb because that was the only finger it could fit.
“Everything okay, Y/N?” Topper questions. Rafe was watching the entire interaction from the loveseat you and Topper were just sitting on.
You bent down to take off your anklet and moved to take off your earrings next.
“Can you help me take off the necklace?” You asked, pulling off the ring and placing it with the other jewelry.
“Sure,” he agrees, pushing your passion twists out of the way.
You felt his warm hand brushing against the back of your neck when he unclasped the necklace.
He put the necklace in your outstretched hand. You walked back up the few stairs you crossed and approached Rafe whose eyes were still trained on you.
You let out a shaky breath before taking his warm hand into your own and giving him the jewelry. You were beginning to miss his touch.
Guilt flashed across his face, looking down at his hand. You avoided his gaze and left him without another word, rushing down the stairs and Topper followed after you.
“Well that was dramatic,” one of the girls says, rolling her eyes while her friend eyes the gold carat in Rafe’s hand that easily amounted to 75k.
“Can I have the earrings?” She asked and before Rafe could respond, she reached for them anyway.
Rafe caught her hand in a tight grip and she whimpers at the pressure.
“You’re hurting me,” she groans.
“No one told you to touch what’s hers,” he shoves her to the ground. “Hey! You asshole!” Her friend snaps, standing from the couch and helps her friend to her feet.
He doesn’t spare them another glance as he digs in his pocket for a baggie to do a few lines.
“Y/N,” Topper calls, finally catching up with you in the kitchen. “Are you okay?” He asks you, examining your face for anything he could read.
“You should check on him,” you poured yourself a shot in a small solo cup and knocked it back, barely making a face.
“I’m checking up on you,” “It needed to be done, okay. All of it were just reminders of what I don’t have anymore.” You explain, pouring yourself another shot.
“That was very brave for you to do.” “Then why do I feel like shit?” You huffed after taking another shot and he stops you from pouring another one.
“Because the break up is still fresh, Y/N.” He looks at you like you’re going to fall apart before his very eyes.
His soft eyes examines your face for any micro expression that could give away what you’re thinking.
“Look, Top. I know you’re trying to help and all but if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to cry.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“I want to enjoy your party. Your birthday is tomorrow. You shouldn’t be spending it watching me cry.”
“That’s not happening. I’m not leaving you.” He shakes his head and you took his hands into yours, much like you did with Rafe.
But Rafe’s hand were warmer.
“It doesn’t make you a bad friend. I’ll find Sarah.” He studied your face once again and you gave him a soft smile.
“Go,” “Alright,” he says, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “I’ll come find you in like ten minutes.”
“Take your time,” he leaves the kitchen and you let out a deep sigh. You shouldn’t be here.
But you didn’t have the heart to ditch Topper on his birthday rager.
You pressed your palms into the cool, granite countertop and bowed your head to release the tension in your neck.
You hadn’t realize someone was in the kitchen with you until you heard footsteps and someone’s low voice. To your surprise, it was Pope standing on the other side of the counter.
“Sorry, were you saying something?” You asked softly, the shot were slowly starting to get to you.
“I said you are too pretty and insanely smart to be treated like an option.”
That was the nicest thing anyone said to you. You haven’t felt valued in a long time.
“Thanks, Pope. That really means a lot.”
His mouth fell open at your words. “You know who I am?”
“Yes I know who you are. Your family makes the best seafood boils in town.” You explained with a chuckle.
“She knows my name,” he said to himself, which he quickly realized you can hear.
“I should haven’t said that out loud,” he admits and you let out a laugh.
“You’re cute,” he scratches the back of his neck to hide how flustered he way. “Um, are you hiding from Rafe in here?”
“Yes, I am.” You admitted, crossing your arms. “Well if you want some company, my friends are by the bonfire outside. If you want to join. O-only if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything or-“
You interrupted his rant to say, “Sure. I’ll go with you.” You took a solo cup and swung by the keg on the way out, offering some to Pope.
“By the way, what makes you think I’m insanely smart?” “I’m a TA for Mr. Patterson. He still uses your test as a grading key.” He explains after taking a swig of your beer.
“Of course he does. I loved his class.” You admitted with a chuckle. “What is this?”
JJ stands from the chair and motions between you and Pope with his ringed pinky.
“I told her she can hang out with us.” “Hey, JJ.” You greet with a small wave.
“‘Sup, sweetheart. Want a hit?” He offered a blunt to you and you graciously accepted.
He had a grin on his face as he watched you take a hit. He expected you to cough or at least have your eyes water from the potency but much to his surprise, you exhaled the puff of smoke slowly without a fuss.
The mix of the weed and the tequila was throwing your head in a spin. “Never pegged you to be a pothead,” “I’m full of surprises, Maybank.”
A drunk Rafe stumbles outside in search for you when he finds you laughing with Pope and JJ.
JJ noticed your shivering whenever there was a breeze and peeled off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.
Rafe wasn’t even aware what was happening until his vision started to blur.
He was crying.
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tsukimefuku · 1 day
Text
fixing broken things ❖ nanami kento
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summary: after you realize that everything you were taking care of just wound up crooked anyway, you're pissed and needs a helping hand in order to not let the anger get the better of you.
tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer and kind of gardener f!reader, gardening, light nanami x reader, implied past higuruma x reader, nanami is very kind in his own way, hurt and comfort, some angst, some fluff.
wc: 1K
notes etc.: if you feel like reading a prequel to this, here's crooked gardening. i just randomly had the idea for this one and decided to jot it down. it's barely proofread. wrote it to the sound of we're all eating each other/the thing of life (juliet ivy)
❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events
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You were pissed. There was no sugar-coating it.
Many of the sprouts on the flower bed you planted a while ago had their skewers pulled out or broken — apparently by accident, or from people stepping on them without meaning to — and that would take a huge time to fix.
You remembered the talk you had with Higuruma — you were back to calling him by his last name, at least for these past few days right after his departure — where you told him you were good at fixing crooked things.
What a joke.
If you really were, would he have left?
Mindlessly, you conjured one of your grenades, and considered for a moment exploding the entire flowerbed out of pure spite and anger. The unexplainable urge of destroying something, and repay the unending pain the world seemed hellbent in dropping over your shoulders.
Just another pointless heartache to carry around, as if you didn't have enough of those already.
You got your hand closer to the flowerbed, but before dropping the tiny grenade, you realized there was an invisible veil you simply couldn't rupture.
There was no crossing it, your body was preventing you from going beyond that imaginary line and blowing up a bunch of flowers you planted and nurtured yourself with such care, even if it were to plant new ones in their place.
There was no escaping the roots that had already taken hold.
"Good afternoon," you heard an already familiar voice say behind you. "Why are you holding one of your grenades?"
Sighing, you dissipated it, patting your hands on your pants to clean them from the dirt.
"I… I don't know, Nanami," you replied bitterly as you stood up.
He knew Higuruma left a few days ago, having talked to the sorcerer himself, and noticed you were obviously still processing his departure. Respectful as he was, Nanami avoided contacting you to offer assistance — he knew that, in case you did want it, you'd talk to him first. You were the type of person who usually needed some space and alone time to process things.
But at that moment, Nanami became slightly concerned, seeing you using your cursed technique at the HQ premises, given it had quite the destructive potential.
You turned on your heels and stomped your feet towards the nearest bench, sitting on it with a sour face. Your arms were crossed, and your anger kept building up with no relief. If only you could find it in yourself to blow up, at least this fucking once.
Lost in thought, you didn't realize that Nanami sat by your side.
He looked at his wristwatch and sighed before speaking.
"I have exactly 17 minutes before leaving for my next mission."
And then, there he stood, impassively waiting for you to speak up about what was going on.
"I wanted to blow up that flower bed."
He looked at you, and inquired, with no judgement in his voice, "why?"
"Because… Because some flowers are crooked, and I planted them, and I'm fucking supposed to be good at fixing crooked things, but fuck me, I guess I'm just… I don't know, Nanami. I don't fucking know," you blurted out, equal parts bitter and defeated. "I wanted to just destroy them and plant something else in their place."
"I see."
"Well, apparently, I'm not even good at doing that, because I couldn't do it. I just… couldn't."
"Why do you think that is?" He asked you, pushing his glasses into position.
"I have no idea," you spat, "do you have any? I could do with some enlightenment, or lecture, or whatever the hell you could throw at me right now. I'm tired of people leav…" you thought for a moment. "No, I guess that's it. I'm tired of people."
He huffed.
"People can be tiring."
"Yeah…" you were feeling a little less out of sorts, and the sadness began taking hold of the anger's place. "So, why couldn't I destroy anything?"
"You couldn't do it because you're not someone who breaks things."
You were a little puzzled, and said, "Nanami, my technique is literally casting grenades to blow things up. I'm pretty good at that — breaking and destroying things, I mean."
Nanami sighed and removed his glasses, turning his face to look at you.
"Not only that. You're also capable of applying reverse cursed technique on other people, so you carry both within you. The potential for breaking and for fixing."
You huffed, and looked at your feet as you asked, imitating his usual voice cadence, "is that so?"
"It is. But not only that. Your rage rarely pulls you down. It pushes you forward."
"What do you mean?"
You looked back at him at that moment.
"When your parents left, or when you lost people close to you, and when you were at that village. These were the many instances where you could have simply given up, but you chose to preserve your family legacy, to become a healer and to save a child. For a sorcerer that deals with negativity and death on a daily basis, you choose to bring out the best from the worst instead."
You were silent, taking in what Nanami was saying, and he proceeded.
"As it stands to reason, you wouldn’t use your pain or anger to destroy anything. You’d use it as fuel."
"For what?"
"Keep fixing broken things."
You huffed, an almost chuckle.
"Thanks for the compliments, I guess."
"Those weren't compliments, I simply stated facts," he answered, putting his glasses back on.
You acquiesced. 
"Yeah, forgot you did that."
You got up on your feet and stood there for a moment, before turning towards him and saying, "thank you, Nanami."
He bowed his head, and got up himself.
"See you around?"
"See you around," he replied, sparing you a discreet smile before walking away.
You stepped towards the flower bed and looked at it, fully aware that just bursting everything away and starting from scratch would be easier. However, you sat on the ground and started pulling the broken skewers off, determined to put new ones in place, realizing this would take a lot of effort and time.
Grunting, you began mumbling to yourself, displeased and somewhat happily defeated for the first time in days.
Fucking Nanami, always fucking right about fucking things.
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to-the-stars8 · 3 days
Text
Vigilant Coffee
Batfamily x Reader Chapters AO3
18-What’s Worse than a Gotham Villain? A Karen.
You had dealt with vigilantes, cartoon villains, and every other creep under the sun, but your one weakness? Karens.
There was just something about them that got under your skin. It was like their mission in life was to just be a major bitch. In all honesty, it made you want to eat glass. Luckily, with the night shifts, you never really had to deal with them. All of the vigilantes that came through your door were kind, and the villains, albeit less so, could be tolerable on some occasions. 
Much to your dismay, your luck was not there. This lady, who had come in an hour before your shift ended, was being such a prick. She started with passive aggressiveness, being short and curt with you—It was then that you knew no matter how right you could have done something she was going to find a fault within it. 
This lady was out for blood that night. As soon as you placed her order on the counter, she took one look at it and said, “This isn’t what I ordered.”
“You ordered a chai latte with cinnamon, right?”
“No, that has to be someone else’s order.”
Your eyes darted around the cafe before saying, “You’re the only one here.”
The silence after that was too loud and the tension now thick. The lady’s pale face got beat red and she pressed her lips into a thin line. Suddenly, her loud, squeaky voice that you were sure could crack glass, cut through the air, “Are you talking back to me?”
“No, Miss, I’m just trying to understand—”
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again,” She said.
You only mumbled an apology before taking her drink to remake it. Before you could even get two steps away she stopped you by snapping her fingers to get your attention. That irked you more than anything, but you knew once you said something your boss would be out for your ass. Your boss was one of those ‘the customer is always right even though they’re not’ type of people. 
You looked at her with a smile, though, just to be the bigger person. “Yes?”
“What are you doing with that drink?”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you answered, “I’m going to remake it for you.”
“Are you stupid or something? You can’t waste a drink, give it to me.”
This time, you wanted to stand your ground, “Not unless you pay for it, Ma’am.”
Now, that was the straw that broke the damn or something like that. Now this lady was laying into you like no other. She called you every name in the book, and, when she ran out of those, she thought of more. Some, admittedly, were a bit creative. 
You were in near tears when, all of a sudden, a voice somehow managed to overtake hers. “Damn, lady, do you ever shut the fuck up?”
You turned to see Arsenal and Nightwing walking toward the two of you. It was like a switch turned in that old hag in front of you. She went from being a cunt to a cupid in a matter of seconds. You, on the other hand, were relieved. She tried to fawn over the heroes but looked less than interested, a bit mad even.
“Why the fuck are you talking to someone who’s trying to help you like that?” Arsenal asked, stepping closer to the lady. 
You wanted to know her response, but Nightwing sauntered to the counter like nothing was going on. He leaned against it and asked, “You okay?”
You nodded, sure if you started talking you were likely to break down, but it didn’t matter since the tears were already falling down your cheeks. Trying to maintain your dignity, you asked Nightwing to give you a moment to remake the woman’s drink. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter how you felt, it was the customer that was always right according to your boss. 
“No,” The lady sheepishly said as Arsenal stared at her down. “I’ll take it.”
“Would you like me to heat it for you,” You asked. “I think it might have gotten a bit cold.”
Nightwing turned to the lady and said, “That’s so nice, isn’t it?” When the lady didn’t respond, he asked again, sounding more stern. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes!” The lady said, eyes darting between Nightwing and Arsenal. “And, please, if you would.”
“Okay,” You said, sniffling as you wiped away your tears. 
As you heated her drink, you listened in on what Arsenal and Nightwing were telling her. They were giving her a lecture on how to treat people, saying that, in all the years they’ve been vigilantes, they’d never seen someone get treated this badly. Arsenal, though you had never met him before, had a lot to say in your defense—Even going as far as to come up with some creative insults himself. You kind of liked it, especially since it was hot. 
The ding of the microwave stilled the lecture and the lady was quick to take her drink back. She gave you one more pathetic glare before quickly walking out of the cafe. It wasn’t until she left that you finally broke down.
Arsenal leaned on the counter as he spoke softly to you. “Hey, gorgeous, don’t let that lady get to you, okay?” 
“Okay,” You said pathetically as you wiped away your tears. “I’m sorry I’m crying.”
Nightwing slid over the counter to hug you, which made you cry harder. “Hey, hey, why are you crying again? It’s okay.”
You sniffled into his suit. He smelled just like Batman but with a hint of cheap cologne. “Because I’m crying in front of two hot guys, asshole!”
You felt Nightwing chuckle, his chest moving a bit against your face, and you couldn’t help but blush. Oh, man, this just sucked even more. Looking at Arsenal, he gave you a weary smile and cooed to you that it would be alright. Yup, you'd be thinking about this later tonight.  
Now, the other other weakness you forgot to mention? Hot men being nice.
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