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jup1ter33 · 16 hours

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Boothill headcannons

sfw + nsfw! 🔞 brings up his past so be prepared to hear about that😥

sfw

he is so goofy with you, always bickering and starting something just to get on your nerves.

he means no harm though, just playful banter.

he's a wee bit touch starved, so he adores it when he can hold you and kiss you

no body better try and hurt you unless they'd like a bullet between the eyes from him.

he has no problem firing his gun at anyone who dares to hurt you, whats a few more credits on his bounty??

when you first learned about what happened on his home planet, you didn't know how to respond. you could see the pain in his eyes, but he would try and dismiss it.

that same night, he ended up bawling his eyes out on your shoulder. the words "I miss my baby... my daughter." spouted from his lips. he was sure that he couldn't cry anymore, but with you, he felt such security, a safe haven for himself.

he'd have nightmares often. he'd abandon his charging station to come lay with you clutching you to his chest in fear that he'd loose you too.

but moments with boothill are rarely sad. In fact, he's typically enthusiastic and playful with you.

he's a charmer, calling you cute names and what-not.

he'd remove his hat and place it on your head while he kisses you.

being a galaxy ranger, he would often have to leave for weeks at a time. he'd give you a piece of his clothes, or a pin off his jacket, or some flowers before he left. he'd give you a deep hug, resting his head ontop of yours and taking in your scent before he has to leave.

on his trips he'd send you photos of the scenery, or some cool monuments, or anything he'd think would interest you.

he'd text you good morning and good night every day, saying how he misses you

on those days where he gets back in the middle of the night, he'd find you sleeping in the bed on his side, the blankets pulled up to your chin.

he's quietly snuggle his way in, cradling you in his arms.

buttttt, when he gets back in the morning, you better be ready to go out and have some fun.

he'll give you a gift he picked out for you, take you out drinking or to some random restaurant. sure, he'd get stares, but he didn't care.

he's so good with kids, he plays with them all the time and scolds them when they've been naughty.

he used to play guitar with his little girl, but now that his hands are metal, he has trouble getting his fingers to press on the fret board correctly:(

nsfw

oh boy, be prepared to hear this man

he's so whiny, he whimpers and moans so loud.

one of his absolute favorite things is to eat you out. the only human part of him left is his face, so being burried in between your thigh, your warm cunt pressed against his mouth, he can feel so much of it. it sends his fans whirling from the feeling of skin-to-skin.

and the pet names, he never runs out of them. darlin', sweetheart, buttercup, the list goes on and on.

because of his synestheisa beacon, it's hard for him to give you really any degrading words.

"T-take it like the cutie you are..."

he ends up getting frustrated and decides that maybe until he can get that solved, he won't use those words on you.

wondering how his dick works? yeah me too.

he'd probably have a silicone skin layer underneath his metal "armor" so I'd assume that his girth would be made of that. (there's no way it's metal that would be torture 😭)

boothills hair is sensitive, like before, his head is the only human part of him left. giving him a good tug makes him groan and jolt.

manhandles you. not exactly intentionally, but because of his cyborg body, it's hard for him to remember that he's alot tougher than you are, and he doesn't mean it in a way that your weak, (because your not) but because he simply gets so worked up he accidently will toss you around a bit.

he's had his fair share of experience, mostly before be was a cyborg, so he'll test things out on you.

he'll watch and see if your reaction to his metallic fingers prodding at your hole, would his fingers be too hard for your liking? would they be too big? he'd be observant in the way he works thru things with you.

until he met you, he didn't know that this charging port was a little sensitive.

he was being rough with you, as a result, your arms wrapped around his body in pleasure, clawing at his back. on accident, your fingers slipped into the charging port on his lower back, and he came on the spot.

he was soooooooo embarrassed.

"i-i...darlin' I didn't know that could even happen to me..." You assured him that it was fine, and that it was rather hot.

he'll find himself on his hands and knees, his port being teased from your Skillful hands and he melts. he whimpers and moans so loud, already on his 3 orgasm.

kinda hard to overstim him, he doesn't feel alot through his metallic skin, but if you make him cum a few times, he gets so whiny and needy.

he's mostly a top, he prefers to have you wrapped around his finger. literally.

but in the case that he decided to be a bottom, he cries your name, telling you how good it feels, how much he loves you, all the things he wants to do to you. he really can't shut up.

after you two finish, he lays next to you for a moment, allowing his fans to cool his overheating body down, and for you to regain your breath.

"so...how'd I do?" He'd ask with a cheek grin on his face. he knows he did good, but he wants to hear it straight from you.

he'll run you a shower or bath, whichever you prefer. but since he doesn't exactly need to shower (and it makes him rust) he'll stay on the outside. helping you with whatever you'd need.

and while your busy washing up, he'll clean off himself with his cleaning kit, oil his fingers and joints, make sure he didn't screw up his alignment.

once you're done, he won't allow you to lift a finger. he'll change the sheets, get you food or a drink, dress you, help you with your skincare, everything. since his body is robotic, he can just charge and won't get sore. he wants to make sure that he didn't mess you up too badly.

once everything is done, he'll lay you in bed ever-so gently.

he'll cuddle up next to you, burrowing his face into your chest, listening for your heartbeat. yes, it brings him pain that he no longer has a beating heart, but as long as he can lay with you and hear yours, to know you're safe, all is well.

#genshin #boothill #honkai star rail imagines #honkai x reader #hsr fanfic #boothill smut #hsr smut

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rosegoldrosieee · 2 days

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so high school

while flesh-eating walkers had seemingly crushed your long-held dreams of experiencing romance as a teenager, carl grimes made you feel so high school.

♡ carl x f!reader, fluff, implied suggestiveness, friends to lovers (sorta), ambiguously alexandria, reader has a spine

a/n: wrote this yesterday hiding in the bathroom during lunch on my school-licensed chromebook for maximum immersion

it was times like these, standing outside on someone’s back porch to get away from boisterous conversations and forced interactions, that reminded you of stupid high school chick flicks with cheesy one-liners, twenty-something actors playing sixteen-year-olds, and predictable love triangles.

you never got to navigate and, most importantly, surmount pubescent awkwardness, nor gush about crushes at sleepovers, because by your twelfth birthday, the dead somehow began to roam the earth.

out of sheer necessity, you’d eschewed any shot at teenage romance for survival skills, and effectively turned into a wallflower when you rejoined civilized society.

a gentle tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your reverie.

“hey.”

there stood the very reason you were even thinking about early-2000s romance movies in the first place: a chronically flannel-clad, one-eyed cowboy, notorious for merely sharing the same last name as the de facto leader of alexandria, now two feet in front of you holding a shot glass of fruit punch.

“didn’t mean to scare you.” he says with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“the only thing that’s scaring me is what you’re using as a vessel for your fruit punch.”

“everyone used up all the solo cups so i had to dig around in the cabinets,” he replies nonchalantly, holding up the glass. “why are you out here?”

why were you out here?

…

you can’t even remember.

“i don’t know.”

it’s hard to think, much less remember, anything when carl’s looking at you like that, arms crossed and leaning forward onto the banister, blue eyes boring into your own.

“did you even hear me?” he taps your hand that’s resting on the ledge gently, his lips quirking up with the ghost of an amused smile.

your eyes flick up to meet his attentively. “…what?”

“wow, you’re really out of it today,” he laughs, sipping from his shot glass. “forget it.”

you shift your weight, shaking your head. “well, i’m listening now, so tell me.”

his fingers are fidgeting with yours, you realize. tapping gently on your knuckles. intentionally, unintentionally? it was cute either way.

he tilts his head. “i just want to know what you’re thinking about.”

you shrug, as dismissively as you possibly can. swallowing down the butterflies that threatened to crawl into your throat.

“getting away from this stupid ass party.”

he raises an eyebrow, tone skeptical. “and?”

you narrow your eyes. it was a bad habit, using vitriol to mask your emotions. you were well aware. “what do you mean, ‘and’?”

“‘cause you’re smart,” his lips curl into a smirk. “that’s not all you’re thinking about. you’re never all…spaced out, like this.”

fuck you, carl grimes.

“i’m just tired,” you fib. your eyes drift to your hand, intertwined with carl’s, before quickly looking away. “you’re reading into it too much.”

“only because you’re not acting normal,” he teases, a dimpled grin gracing his features before he adds, “and you definitely would’ve pulled away by now if you didn’t want this.”

you steal a glance at your entangled hands again, heat rising to your face before you ask, skeptical, “what are you trying to do, exactly?”

“what do you think i’m trying to do?”

you glance to the side furtively, tongue-tied, still able to hear the muffled revelry through the shut screen door, before your eyes trace over his features again.

you wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face so badly.

tugging at the collar of his unbuttoned flannel, you shift your weight to the balls of your feet, connecting your lips to his fruit-punch-stained ones.

you swear you’ll never drink hawaiian punch, or any drink with red-40 in the ingredients list, again without imagining the taste of him lingering on your lips.

expression tinged with a gradient of conflicting emotions when you pull away, you open your mouth to say something— and then he pulls you in this time, words dying in your throat with a soft whimper.

the party fades into an afterthought until you hear the screen door open just around the corner, thudding against the frame. quickly, you disentangle yourself from his arms, faces still flushed.

it’s rick, his rugged, stubbled face and piercing gaze (so it must be hereditary, you wagered) flickering between the two of you suspiciously, nodding at you curtly.

“carl.”

thank god for your quick reflexes — those, at least, hadn’t deteriorated just because you were sheltered by alexandria.

carl swallows, freckled face flushed as he quickly looks at you, panic etched on his face. the evidence of your little affair conveniently disguised by the shadow of his cowboy hat and the darkness of the night.

“dad, can’t we stay a little longer?”

“think the party’s ‘bout over.”

you peer into the ajar casement windows, abandoned solo cups decorating the vacant living room, watching abraham stagger into the mudroom and nearly take a shelf with him when he topples forward. rosita, unamused, rolls her eyes, grumbling something unintelligible before dragging him along.

before the grimes family gets into a fight, you take it upon yourself to leave first, retrieving your cardigan that was hanging on the banister. “see you around, carl. bye, mr. grimes.”

both of them wave as you disappear into tree-lined streets, intermittently illuminated by uniform streetlights.

as soon as you’re out of earshot and out of sight, you let out a pleasant sigh, smiling from ear to ear like an absolute idiot as your hands reached up to feel your flushed cheeks, still hot to the touch as you giggle to yourself at the incredulity of it all.

at home, once the high had worn off, or more realistically, ebbed for the time being, you shed your cardigan, scrutinizing the crimson patches blooming on the side of your neck in the mirror, smiling like a fool.

these were the only kind of bites you’d ever tolerate.

#Spotify #the walking dead #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #twd #twd fanfiction #carl grimes x you

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campbyler · 3 days

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ch09 extras

hello!! while we all wait for chapter 10.1 to be finished (we are so close!), we wanted to share some extras from ch09 to tide us over in the meantime 💌 please enjoy a short deleted dialogue scene and the original ch09 outline below the cut!

DELETED SCENE - MIKE TEACHING WILL HOW TO DRIVE (disclaimer: please do not learn how to drive manual from a fanfiction. i do not care if this is wrong. thanks <3)

Mike doesn’t even have the opportunity to respond before Will is turning the car on again, miraculously doing so successfully without having to ask Mike for instruction. “Look at that,” Mike exclaims, genuinely impressed, complete with a low whistle. Embarrassingly (for Mike), the car isn’t the only thing Will turned on. “You’re already getting the hang of it!” Will resists the urge to roll his eyes, because he is also proud of himself, regardless of how small of an accomplishment it is. “Turning the car on isn’t impressive,” he says dismissively, because he is nothing if not humble. “It’s better than what most people can do,” Mike points out. “Do you think that Lucas knows how to start a manual car? I’ll answer for you – he doesn’t. He’s a loser.” Will barks out a laugh, a little surprised at the animosity towards Lucas this afternoon. “What do you have against Lucas?” “Nothing,” Mike says quickly. “He’s my best friend, even if he is a loser who can’t drive stick.” “I’m telling him that you said that,” he threatens. “It’ll be nothing he hasn’t heard before,” Mike says, the picture of unbothered. He gestures towards Will's feet again, ready to move on from his Lucas slander. “Anyway, before you let off the brake this time, remember the drawbridge.” He lifts both hands up, mimicking the same model drawbridge he had earlier when he’d first been explaining. “When you’re lowering it back down – releasing the clutch, in this case – you’ll want to do it slowly. Ease off it.” He mimics his words with the motion of his hands, miming the drawbridge slowly lowering down. “Once you feel the clutch engage – and you’ll know when, because it’s almost like the car is biting – then you can let off completely. Does that make sense?” “Slower release,” Will repeats, nodding his head slowly too, getting into the idea of it “Got it.” “I don’t want you worrying about the gas pedal at all right now,” Mike continues, wiggling his fingers around his head in a motion that Will translates as: get it out of your mind. “You’re going to let go of the brake, forget the gas pedal even exists for the moment, and peel off the clutch – slowly – until you feel that bite.” “Okay,” Will says. He clutches at the wheel a little tighter, like maybe the intensity of his grip directly correlates to how well he’s about to do. “I think I’ve got it.” “I believe in you,” Mike says encouragingly, shooting him two thumbs up. Will shoots him a small, nervous smile and turns back to the matter at hand. He lets go of the brake, and the car instantly responds, beginning to crawl forward again at what Will considers to be a wonderful, beautiful speed – 3mph. He starts to ease off the clutch, making sure to go slower this time, waiting for the feeling of the bite Mike had promised – but he must mess up somewhere, because the car lurches forward again, coming to an abrupt halt.

CH09 ORIGINAL OUTLINE + AUTHOR'S COMMENTARY

#sorry about the formatting on this tumblr is the worst #BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY #acswy extras #<- someone remind me to add that to our pinned post a time that is not rn #also sorry i simply got out of work an hour later than planned so .#ch09 #acswy spoilers

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achaoticalien · 15 hours

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A Court of Deceit and Decay

Chapter Three- Eris Vanserra

He hadn’t meant to walk in on her. After Rhysand had dismissed Nesta and her trial, he lounged back in his throne. Eris quickly realised he was last on the priority list and set out to take his own time before their meeting began.

Disappearing through the winding tunnels that spiralled through the Hewn City. Eris still could not rid his eyes of silver burning into his own. Flickering flames that didn’t feel like his own were burning his skin. As his feet moved on their own accord, he looked around at the rocky walls, lit by bulbs of Faelights that were held by torches.

There was a pressure deep within his chest, it pulsed erratically, like a flighty heartbeat. It got stronger as he walked. He kept going until he stood face to face with an old office door.

Glancing around he saw no one. Nothing around as the pressure in his chest increased and increased, til he felt as though it would split his ribs open. Along with it, a soft noise reverberated through the door, the sound of it was muffled enough that he couldn't make out what it was. But it didn’t matter because it sent sheer terror rocketing through his spine. In an instant, he opened the door, and there she was.

Brushing herself off, and wiping her tears away, Nesta stood with a puffy red face and shaking hands. Facing him with an impassive expression, betrayed by her anxious eyes. Worried he may do something to her.

Assessing the fear tangible in the air. Eris did the respectful thing and bowed his head, turning his eyes from her saddened face, saying, “Lady Nesta.”

“Lord Eris.” Nesta replied tightly, he lifted his head, eyes looking down at her hands, folded neatly in front of her. She wore dirty clothes that had holes, and somehow still managed to look as regal as she was that day of the High lord’s meeting. ‘

For once in his life, Eris had not a thing to say. He had no idea what to do, what conversation he could make with a woman who had been sentenced to remain underground for the rest of her life.

“Did you require something?” Nesta asked, clearly uncomfortable.

“No I-...” Eris stopped himself, adjusting the lapels of his jacket, he said, “I wished to see how you were faring, since-”

“Since I was judged to remain here for the rest of my life?” Nesta supplied, silver eyes taking fire to them. Dear God, the fire caught his own again. Like a hook snagging him and dragging him in close. Eris adjusted the sleeves around his wrists, a bead of sweat collecting underneath his collar.

“Yes… that.” Eris cautiously broached the subject at hand.

She sneered, “If you wish for the story go ask the Court about it.”

“I don’t believe they would say much in your favour.” Eris said, stepping into the office further, never completely blocking the door, if only to put her a little at ease.

“There isn’t anything to say in my favour.” Nesta told him, “Now you’ve seen me, you may kindly leave.”

“There must be something,” Eris insisted, “In your favour.”

“You are poorly mistaken then, Autumn Lord.” She replied, a dangerous glint in her eyes. Something meant to intimidate and push him back. She lifted her nose and looked down at him.

But there was something behind that perfect porcelain mask. Something broken behind it, the flames that danced, writhing, singing out for his fire.

“I am not.” He said, with a resolution that caused the glint in Nesta’s eyes to gutter.

She tilted her head to the side, in a way that was near predatory, “How are you so sure, then?”

“In your eyes,” He barely knew what he was saying, but knew it to be true all the same, “There… eyes don’t lie, Nesta.”

He tried to grin, but only made a half smirk before it dropped as Nesta’s face lowered ever so slightly. She took a slight step back, nostrils flaring, “What do you want?”

What was he doing? What did he want?

“Feyre had seemed adamant that she would protect her sisters,” Eris said, remembering the fierceness with which Feyre kept her sisters by her side, “Yet she is pleased in sentencing you to remain down here.”

The fire dulled in Nesta’s eyes, the burning silver dimming like a light going out. She glanced down before straightening again, “Feyre can protect who she wishes.”

“Nesta-”

“What?” She snapped, seeming to be fully fed up, “What do you want from me? Can’t you see I’ve already hit my record rock bottom? Did Rhysand send you to make me feel worse about myself? What do you want from me, Vanserra?”

Skin heating up, Eris crossed his arms. Mask slipping slightly as his mouth frowned ever so slightly.

“Rhysand knows better than to order me around.” He said. When Nesta simply levelled him with a deadpan stare, he straightened his posture, moving his arms to fold behind his back. Mother and Cauldron, in five hundred years the last time he fidgeted so was when he was learning the ropes of being a courtier.

“So what do you want from me?” Nesta hissed, voice low and stiff.

“I don’t want anything from you, Nesta.” Eris replied smoothly, tilting his head to the side, “Call me curious, I wish to know what led to these altercations.”

It was a game, Eris recognised the ploys in Nesta’s cunning eyes, trying to hide the bloodshot redness and blush of her cheeks. Silver eyes that counteracted deeper rooted rotting emotions that lay beneath the mask.

Eris couldn’t say for certain why he was trying so hard, but the pressure in his chest only grew.

Nesta watched him, eyes flicking up and down his form, with a fluid movement, she stretched out a long leg and stepped closer to him. One footstep at a time, the pressure increased. Eris was tied to the floor, his feet weights that anchored him.

She stopped a shoe away from him. Looking into his eyes, the fire was there, burning like kindling caught by a burning ember.

“My actions brought them embarrassment.” Nesta said simply, “They hated what I did in my own time.”

“Which… was?” Eris raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking around her face, from her smooth forehead, to her high cheekbones, sharp jawline, thin pink-tinted lips, and always returning to those flame-filled eyes that burned holes in his sockets.

“Drinking and fucking with no regard,” Nesta answered, her expression remaining carefully neutral, but face flushing red with her own admission.

As if she was ashamed, or had been made ashamed.

Eris furrowed his brow.

“That's… it?”

Surely, surely she did something else. Murdered a man in cold-blood, or kidnapped children, because there was simply no world in which one was sentenced to a life underground in a terror-filled city because they drank and fucked.

If that were the case, Eris was clearly at risk for being locked down here too.

“I spent their money.” Nesta looked away, towards the fire, “500 marks.”

“Thats…”

Eris must be being locked down here as well, if that was what the Court of Night considered worthy of being punished for.

“That’s it?” Eris repeated as if his mind had broken from the absurdity.

Nesta levelled him with a confused look, “I… I insulted Morrigan, as well as Rhysand and Amren. Argued with them and refused to join them often. I offended them?”

She said it with such a confused tone, as if trying to incriminate herself.

Now Eris was fully convinced Rhysand had only invited him to be locked down here with Nesta. He’d have to invite Kallias next as well, considering that male spent a lot more than 500 marks on a good night.

“That’s it?” Eris attempted to chastise himself, especially for Nesta’s confused expression at his repeated remarks.

“Yes?” Nesta blinked.

Silence took hold, as Eris reigned his tongue back in, but his next words could not be shielded by centuries of careful courtier training, his filter seemingly broken by sheer confusion.

“Nesta, I don’t believe there is a single Faery in the world that hasn’t spent more than that on a good outing. I don’t believe there is a single Faery in Prythian that hasn’t insulted Rhysand’s sacred Inner Circle more than once either.” He blinked, if it were anyone else he would assume they were lying and hiding some other crime to save face. But from Nesta’s mask breaking off and showing pure and utter confusion, he understood that no, Nesta was telling the truth.

It made Eris wonder what else Rhysand had done, if he allowed his own sister-in-law to be sentenced to a life like this for something his own Court did on a regular basis.

“I…” Nesta opened and closed her mouth.

Seeing her for the first time had been electric, he remembered how she had stood up and spoken with the confidence of a Lord who had reigned for a thousand years. Her efforts in the war, and how she had worked with her sister to slay the King. He remembered that moment of relief when all was done, the War won. He remembered his gratitude to the Mother for giving them the Archeron sisters for it led to their salvation, as fleeting as the moment was, it was a stark memory he would never forget.

And yet Rhysand put her down here. As if he didn’t owe Nesta his and his general’s lives.

Eris looked behind him, at the open door, and the darkness it led out into.

He looked back at Nesta’s burning eyes, the flames that would surely be smothered if she remained in the clutch of said darkness. A flame could only light so much before it went out.

“Lady Nesta, I have a proposal.” Eris said.

Nesta raised an eyebrow, “Which is?”

If Rhysand could not appreciate the gift he had been given, Eris could.

“I don’t believe you have ever visited the Autumn Court,” Holding out a hand, he said, “Would you care for a trip?”

#a court of deceit and decay #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #nesta archeron #pro eris vanserra #pro nesta archeron #sjm #the autumn court #the inner circle #anti inner circle #neris #pro neris #acomaf #acowar #acosf

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sherlock-is-ace · 7 days

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#not having a great time today after my mom commented on my interests #i'm a person that is interested in shit i don't know this is why i'm very likely to follow disabled youtubers #in my time i have watched molly burke. multiplicityandme and a collection of autistic youtubers (guess why lol)#and my mom made a quite patronizing comment about how i ''take on causes'' by learning about stuff #and/or supporting fun and interesting youtube channels #but anyways it sucks even more because on her comment she made it clear (once again) that she doesn't believe me when i say #i might be autistic. and it fucking sucks!#because when i first talked to her about it even I didn't know much about it. i was just starting to do my research #and i was trying to make sense of things still but she dismissed it #but now that i do know more and things do make more sense #i can't even bring it up because the fact that i have been watching a lot of youtubers talk about autism will make her think #i'm just trying to be like them... which is stupid #but it's also the reason i didn't tell her that my best friend in my teens was trans. because i was trying to figure shit out myself #and telling her he was trans and then a bit later that i am as well was going to make her go ''everyone's trans now blah blah''#and dismiss that as well... but now i'm trapped in the same thing about autism lol #and her stupid loophole of a dismissal isn't just by saying ''no you're not autistic'' it's saying this like ''well MAAAAYBE you COULD be #but that doesn't mean anything and it doesn't matter and why would you want a diagnosis if it's not gonna change anything''#same thing as her whole ''sure you're a man but why do you have to look and act differently? YOU know who YOU are #who cares what others think?'' in a don't transition way #like that's so stupid!#dkfjhkdfhkdfg #i'm angry and i feel trapped #i have figured out a little bit ago that i don't stim near as enough as i need to BECAUSE i live in the same house as her #and the idea of ear defenders and other stuff like that is very appealing but i can't do that while she's around to judge #and IN PUBLIC?! that's unthinkable!!#i still remember the time she threatened with not going out with me (to the supermarket) because I commited the huge crime of #buttoning the top button of my button up shirt....#that's it. that was the whole reason.. she thought i looked ridiculous and she didn't want to be seen with me...#imagine if i wear ear defenders out...#not gonna risk it lol

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yanderenightmare · 4 months

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TW: dubcon, misogyny, degradation/condescension, toxic partner, gaslighting, guilt-tripping

fem reader

The first time he said you were made for him, you thought it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you.

He’d said it with such unbothered air – so matter-of-factly – as if it were the most obvious thing, as though he was almost exasperated even to have to spell it out for you.

And you’d smiled, feeling warm and giddy. Lovey-dovey heart-eyes looking back at him with not a single second guess.

You should have asked him what he meant, though…

But you always brush such things off. Lying snugly against his side in bed, head resting on his chest with his muscled arm around your waist – watching a dumb movie on the laptop kept atop his abs.

“Tch- she’s just like you.” He snorts casually.

You barely hear it. And even then, it takes some time before you humor it.

But after your brain's bothered computing, you eventually pout –looking at the actress on the screen – sitting on the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks, all wet mascara streaks and tousled hair.

She was pretty, but she looked nothing like you.

“What do you mean?” You ask after a little while – not having been able to pay attention to the rest of the plot. Too busy mulling what he’d said – trying to spin it positively as you so often do – but finding only far-fetched reasons, none of which sounded like something he'd bother say.

“What?” He mumbled.

It had been a while since he’d made the comment – about half the movie already – so it was only fair.

“How’s she like me?”

He raised his brows – a bit of a double chin forming on his neck as he angled his head to look down at you.

“You know...” He brushed it off – redirecting his eyes back to the movie. The final climax was beginning.

You decide you can wait until the end. He’d just get annoyed if you talked through or paused the film now.

He doesn’t spare you the same consideration, though – already with his hand casually running up your arm, coming to cup your tit.

He plays with it until the credits start rolling.

Closing the screen, he places it on the nightstand and climbs on top of you as though it were what both of you had been waiting to do.

“Uhm-” You protest – but he doesn’t take it as such, promptly dipping over to catch it with his lips – already pulling on his tight shirt, leaving your lips briefly to wring it off over his head. “Wait-” You interrupt before he’s back on you.

“What?” He breathes – nipping the corner of your mouth instead.

You hold his shoulders, trying to lift him off – but it doesn't seem like he even registers the effort – already buried in your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

“You didn’t tell me what you meant earlier.” You remind him.

It takes a second before he remembers, asking, “Jeez – ‘you still thinkin’ about that?”

The kisses don’t stop. Instead, they return to try your lips again.

But you’re adamant about refusing – placing your hand over his mouth and giving him a glare – the one that tells him to listen when he isn’t – one that you have to use rather often…

He takes your hand and pins it to the pillow beneath in a finger-lock – kissing your lips despite it. “C’mon~ it’s not important.” He dismisses, words slurred with different objectives.

You slant your head to the side, and his lips meet your cheek instead. “No, really. I want to know what you meant.”

His brows furrow then – visibly getting annoyed with you – the irritation also evident in his voice. “Ugh – I’s just sayin’ you’re a little…” He leans back on his heels, where he's taken to kneel on top of you – his bulge rubbing against your mound, thick and stiff.

He scans the ceiling with his chin raised, releasing a sigh before looking back down at your face and the pouty look written across it.

He chuckles a little, grabbing the chubs of your cheeks in both hands to hold you – placing yet a kiss, now on your nose.

“I’m just sayin’ you’re cute, is all.”

He starts kissing you again – his hands hot at your sides, where he starts impatiently tugging at your top, lifting it up.

“Stop-”

You push his hands away.

This time, he sighs with rust – almost growling. “I swear – only you would make a big deal outta this.” He accuses suddenly – body sagging with his head hung. “All I meant is that you’re a little…”

Your brows furrow at his grumpy mumble. Your doubt about it being derogatory only solidifying – making your voice come out sharper.

“A little what?”

He huffs again – as though you were the one being unreasonable.

“A little hopeless at times.”

You gape. “Hopeless?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, signaling for him to get off – but his hands squeeze your shoulders, keeping himself there. “You’re not getting’ me-”

“Apparently not.” You cut him off – still struggling to get yourself up.

But it takes only an effortless push from him to have your back thud against the mattress again.

“Say they were to make a movie about me, right?” He starts – ignoring the look you give him. “You’d play the love interest as a clueless damsel in distress. And I’d play the lead as the hero who saves you.”

You roll your eyes. “Right. Or, more realistically – you’d play an asshole, and I’d play the upset girlfriend who leaves you with blue balls.”

This time, you put your hands on his chest to push him off.

Unfortunately for you, he’s as steadfast as a mountain.

“No, baby – come on.” He whines. Taking your wrists and sinking back down to your neck – kissing your collar with a tired groan. “You know what I mean.”

“Get off – I’m serious.” You put plainly now when everything else had failed.

But only a sound scoff leaves him as he continues to touch – fiddling with your top again like before. “No. You’re throwing a fit.”

Your face is properly sour now – your voice, too. “I’m not a child.”

“Then quit actin’ like one, hm?” His hands squeeze your sides as he gruffs against your neck. “Face it, babe. You’re with me because you like havin’ someone capable supportin’ you.”

Your brows crinkle differently at the statement – softening just a bit – mainly because you weren’t sure whether to take offense or not.

And before you can decide, he’s already adding to it, “Just like I like havin’ a cute, pouty, pretty little girlfriend cryin’ my name over every single silly little thing, too~” His voice went sweeter with the teasing – you felt the grin of it run against your jugular.

“You-”

“C’mon, don’t pretend.” He drawls. “You know I’m right.”

You can’t really defend against it. After all – suppose – he was right...

“We’re perfect for each other~” He purrs groggily. Still laying wet lovebites to your neck. “You were made for me.”

You don’t think it’s as romantic this time around – sounding more like a verdict.

Or a bitter truth.

“I like you just like this.”

BNHA – Bakugou

JJK - Gojo, Naoya

HQ - Kuro, Oikawa

AOT - Eren

DS – Sanemi

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut

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neoplatinum · 2 months

Text

til' death do us part - part 1 | minatozaki sana

summary: sana minatozaki walks right into your life with a marriage license.

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex

wc: 5.0k

(series masterlist)

"the minatozaki's are waiting." you stare at the contract in front of you, frustrated at the idea of the family visiting. they sent the contract to you two weeks ago, and you knew that they were expecting a response, as in a signature. but here lays the contract on your coffee table, left to collect dust.

"let them in." you sit up from the couch, adjusting your shirt. you watch the maid let them in, timed steps in the long marble hallway. you hear their presence before you see them. then you see the matriarch of the minatozaki family step into the room. her head held high and proper, like a leader.

she reminds you of your own mother: the sharp tongue, quick judgements, and inability to let go of grudges.

then walks in sana minatozaki, the only heiress of the minatozaki group. she is not a stranger at all, but you havent decided if she is a friend or foe. when you were both younger, annual balls were centered around her. she always took those events in stride, while you enjoyed sticking by your mother's side.

you often remember watching sana dancing with anyone who would ask her; even from afar, you knew she was someone that everyone awed at. they treated her attention like a prize worth attaining.

"hello mrs. minatozaki and ms. minatozaki, please have a seat." you direct them to sit on the opposing couch. "how may i help you?"

they both get situated while you sit by yourself, feeling the weight of the minatozaki power firsthand. you watch your staff rushing to present them with tea, only for the two to dismiss them quickly.

"yes, we sent over a contract earlier last week, please sign it." the matriach points at the contract on your table.

"yes well, it is a marriage contract, a legally binding one. i need time to think it through."

"what is there to think through? you get to marry into the minatozaki group, and solidify your business with the backings of our family, i see no reason that it's empty now."

you frown at that, those were the exact words your own father told you over the phone, you called him immediately after receiving the contract, he told you the same exact thing, ending the call immediately after.

you dont disagree with the benefits, you would just rather marry someone else. someone that you could be in love with, not sana minatozaki.

"mrs. minatozaki, as much as i understand the power and backing of your family. i am rather old-fashioned. i only believe in marriage out of love." you nod solemnly to the older woman.

she lets out a trained laugh and holds her daughter's hands like they're her prize and tool. "love? you don't think that you could love my daughter?"

"mrs. minatozaki, i didn't mean it in that way-"

"so, what way did you mean it? my daughter sana," you say, watching as her daughter stands up from the couch, tall and proud, just like her mother, and smiling at you in that coy smile. "she has a line of suitors far longer than you could imagine; you should reconsider."

"mrs. minatozaki' please if i may-"

she holds her palm up, completely stopping you from speaking. "enough. here's what we're going to do: a three-month commitment. truly court my daughter for three months, and if you can honestly tell me you aren't in love with her, then i won't bother you with this matter for any longer."

"mrs. minatozaki, i think this is a completely archaic idea!" you exclaim, shocked to hear her say these plans. how quick she is to decide for her daughter's life.

"watch your tone. do not forget that your mother and I are well acquainted." she points her finger at you, and in a split second, she's back to that trained smile that is always so unnerving and threatening.

"i'm very sorry mrs. mintatozaki, please forgive my rudeness." you bow deeply at the woman. you return to your trained demeanor, letting mrs. minatozaki run your life for the next three months. who knows what she'll say to your mother if you decline?

both women get up promptly at the matriarch's signal, and you rush to walk them out of the manor. their resounding footsteps echo through the halls. the matriarch continues speaking of the three months of "dating," and you nod at every word in appeasement.

you assist them into their car, and soon they speed away from your manor. leaving you frustrated in your own driveway. by the time the sun has set, you finally return to your room.

the thought doesn't bother you anymore, while you were nervous at the idea of the minatozaki's pressing you on this marriage, you had gotten way too swamped with work.

in a week's time since the visit, you were giving a big presentation to shareholders and clientele. countless nights spent languidly going through the motions of collecting data for infographics and reports to extrapolate data. all part of your stressful day job.

a job that you take pride in, to take over the family business. dedicating years of your life to build the rapport needed for your father to put the company in your name.

you begin to wrap up on your final slide, indicating the prosperous quarter that your company has been seeing. beautiful graphics that display profit margins through the roofs. in every chair of that conference room sat a wide smile at your future projections.

"we expect to see a projection of 33% from our previous annual profits, along with more assets, and with the likes of a possible acquisition, this company will continue to flourish. thank you all for today." you conclude your presentation and smile to the many shareholders. they all stand and applaud you; you take a deep bow and shake hands.

the shareholders hound you, all gathered around in suits that costed more than the average house. they only bowed to the sound of money dropping into their pockets. so they push you, push your boundaries of how much you'll let them take.

mr. seki has always been the most persistent, asking for more money than he knew how to spend. so he stands before you, eyes twinkling and his grubby hands rubbing together like he found a gold mine.

you listen to him speak of the golden days with your father, business had little to regulations, making money was easier than breathing, but now he breaths down your neck for bonuses. the words travel in one ear and out the other, he forgets that you were a young child listening in to his discussions with your father.

before you know it, you hear that sharp clicking sound, the sound of sharp hard rubber hitting the tiled floor, you hear heels. short confident steps of a woman, and then you see it through the frosted glass, a womanly figure.

she's walking right into the conference room. then you notice the details: long brunette hair in waves, branded sunglasses atop her nose, a light pink suit adorned with blinding diamonds. behind her are bodyguards that tower over everyone. everyone's conversation stops at the sight of her, she stops right in front of you.

eyes strong and daring, she slips off her glasses and you recognize her, the woman of all your friend's dreams: sana minatozaki. more confident than ever, not being guided by her mother, she smiles that smile that you know your friends swoon over. delicate fingers slip off her glasses as she hands them to her assistant. eyes still focused on yours.

then she does it, grabs ahold of your tie, and slams her lips against yours. and you can hear it faintly, the sound of the shareholders all gasping, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat. the searing kiss lasts so long, like a time loop. when she pulls back, you gasp for air, choking and doubling over coughing like you inhaled chili powder. all your presentation material spilling on the ground.

"sorry to cut the festivities short, gentlemen." she bows lightly, an amused smile underlying her sarcasm. "my fiancé and i have things to attend to, i'm sure you know how demanding your wife can be". she giggles at that, letting them all nod, and disperse.

"fiancé?" you cough out, still catching your breath. sana grabs ahold of your hand and drags you out the conference room, and out to the elevators. you watch her two bodyguards at your feet, ready to intervene with broad and thick builds.

they remind you much of your father's bodyguards. but you never wanted them because it just felt so unnatural to be followed by men who protected you.

sana stands before the elevator, and without missing a beat walks in, at the sound of the door opening. you get pulled by the two bodygaurds into the box. now you stand next to a smirking sana and two men who could break your spine ten times over.

you exit into the lobby, all the staff rising to their feet at the sight of you and miss minatozaki. greeting you all, as you rush to follow after sana. you have a sinking feeling if you don't that those two men behind you are going to toss you right into the ocean. right outside of the lobby, is the sight of the signature black marked sedan. a true sign of a minatozaki. like the fortress of a family, this car is far than capable of withstanding a nuke, how true this statement is? you never want to know.

sana is quick to sit herself inside, being guided by her chaffeur. you nod to him before sitting inside, seperated by the middle seat. the door closes and suddenly you feel claustrophobic.

the last time you spoke to sana was years ago, back in law school, you never did like her clique but they were everywhere. so you have interacted with her through case studies and presentations, steering clear of the intimidating minatozaki group. so much for avoiding them, now you're stuck in a car with the exact person you were avoiding all your life.

"mother is furious." she comments, grabbing her heels off her feet, tucking them into a compartment. you stare at her for a while, confused with what she means. "well?"

"miss minatozaki, i thin-"

"sana. just sana please." she corrects you.

"miss sana, please, you cannot barge into my shareholder meetings and attack me like that. that was unacceptable on all levels." you continue. loosening the tie that felt like it was choking you when she grabbed it. you slip it off your neck and into your pocket.

"i thought mother made it clear her expectations. you sign that marriage license, and we're good." she continues to correct you, disregarding your frustrations.

"sana. i apologize but i have been swamped with work, i cannot even begin to think about marriage." you complain.

"work? you marry into the minatozaki group and you'll never lift a finger. those infographics you put together were cute, but the minatozaki's never put themselves through work they can pass off to others. marry in, and we'll find a suitable ceo the second you say so." she is everything you stand against, a figurehead as the ceo is the last thing you want for your budding company.

"i think you are mistaken, miss sana. this company is me, i am this company, that will not change if i marry into the minatozaki group." you don't waver for a second, conviction running through your blood.

she smiles at that, "you are one of those. the ones that are married to their work before anything else." she takes a second to contemplate this thought, what would you bring to the minatozaki group? profit, drama, not a headache that's for sure.

"i'm going to let you in on a secret," she leans her head towards you. "like how you are married to your work, i am married to wealth. doesn't matter if you have a million mistresses, or a thousand bastard babys. as long as you don't smear the minatozaki name, you will fit right in."

"i do not think so miss sana. the minatozaki's are adamant about blood purity, they don't let bastards live." you explain. she smirks at that, you've clearly done your research about the minatozaki clan. "miss sana, please, me marrying into your family would not beneficial to you. i am too concerned with my own self to be a pawn for your clan." you finish, hoping they will let this issue to rest.

"you seem to know a lot about our family for someone who isn't interested marrying in." her eyebrow shoots up and with the snap of a finger, the bodyguard hands her a manila folder through the slit of the window.

"once again, we urge you to sign this. i hope we become lifelong partners, fiancé." she winks and steps out of the car. speaking to the chauffeur, and soon you're being driven by the minatozaki car, another car ready for sana in an instant.

now you're left with a manila folder, weighing heavier than anything else in the world. when you are sit in your armchair with the manila folder, nursing a nice drink to unwind, you finally untie the manila folder. opening the contents, you find the same contract on your coffee table. signed with sana's signature in the bottom, and another paper.

in a written letter from your own father, you nearly crumple the paper in your own hand. the clauses of placing your company in the hands of your father, all shareholder signatures at the bottom. indicating the removal of power. in another line it reads in big bold letters, date sana for three months or your company will be absorbed by your father.

you call up your father.

"father, this is ridiculous, you cannot do this to my company. why are you meddling now?"

"you insolent child, given the opportunity to grow your business, you choose instead to be selfish? i present to you the opportunity of a lifetime: marriage into the minatozaki group. and i've been told you're pushing their patience." his deep voice rumbles into the phone. "my final words are these: you want your company so bad, prove that you are committed to the minatozakis, then i will transfer the power back." he firmly states.

"i don't even have the time, father. my schedule is busy with the new year and final changes with new clientele."

"i've already spoken to your assistant, all work for you the next three months have been transferred to my coo. he will take over for the time being, i trust him to run my own company, so don't you go spouting nonsense about his credibility." you bite your tongue at the sight. how dare your father meddle in your company? one that you built up with your own hands. the only piece of yourself that wasn't controlled by your father.

"do not forget who raised you. i can take everything away." his voice booms through the speakers. he ends the phone call there. and you throw that phone like a baseball, shattering the device into pieces.

so you do date sana for three months, finding it absolutely absurd in the beginning. often visiting her wherever she traveled. when she was busy, you would send out bouquets in your absence. you tried your best to date her, devoting time to getting to know her better. she's like you remembered when you were younger, loud rambunctious and had an eye for all things expensive. you spent trips all over the globe within those three months.

it's a strange feeling. letting yourself rest, you can't remember the last time you went on a vacation other than in law school. here you are, lying in a lounge chair on a private beach in santorini. drinking mai tais while you stare into the horizon. confused with your own life right now.

it should've been the merger. you get antsy just at the idea of your father's coo leading the merger, but what can you do. that company is not "yours" right now. while you are trying to enjoy the sight of the bright sun and clear waters, you watch out of the corner of your eye as sana flirts openly with a resort worker.

hand on his bicep, leaning in to show more cleavage, all the while keeping a sultry smile on her face. you're done letting your life be decided for you. you walk over.

"hi honey, how is it going?" you smile towards her, leaning in for a quick kiss. holding her neck in place, as you watch the man walk away. you let her go.

"jealous?" she smirks.

"no. i need answers." you sit down in front of her. "why me?"

"what do you mean why me?" she sips on her cosmopolitan, not provoked by the question.

"why marry me? my father is well known, but we are not a conglomerate group, why do you wish to marry me? i provide nothing to the minatozaki group, it doesn't make sense. there's the watanabe clan, the abe clan, the ito clan. i really don't understand why my family."

"it's not your father or his companies, it's you." she points at you. still sipping her drink. she doesn't skip a beat, no hesitation in her words.

"i hold no power on the world stage, you would be well off marrying any clan." you try reasoning with her, beyond perplexed on why she chose you.

"the watanabe clan are dirty: plagued with dirty lust, the abe clan are ruthless killers, the ito clan has been known to kill their woman. so tell me, how much better off i will be marrying them?" she continues. face hardened.

"i see...they are not as great as their name." you stare at her. less perplexed but definitely confused.

"we all grew up together, all the heirs, i know them better than they know themselves. and i do not like what i see. but you and i didn't speak to each other." she signals for another cosmopolitan, thanking the staff member and digging through her bag. pulling out photos of you two when you were children at the annual balls.

"you are worlds better than all of them combined. i could see it in the way you never vied for my attention. they all were intact dogs, hoping to hump something by the end of the night."

"sorry for the assumptions," you offer. the way she looks away from you, watching the ocean. and letting out a long and heavy sigh. she tucks the photos away. "so, marriage out of convenience? is that all this is?"

"yes." she nods.

you grab the contract from your bag, signing it in front of her. and then placing it in her hands, "to a happy marriage sana minatozaki, i hope you can handle my snoring." you laugh.

she grins at the contract, and tucks it into her bag. "then i hope you can handle my kicking. you groan jokingly and laugh loudly, her joining you.

minatozaki weddings were no joke. halls lined with marble pillars with gold accents. dishes made out of the finest and purest porecelin. waiters dressed in their finest, not a single hair out of place. global leaders and their children attending, even if they had no ties to the minatozaki.

the grandiose hall with beautiful mirrors dating centuries ago. recovered artifacts from the edo period, adorning the shelves. the giant minatozaki family crest on the back wall. with long tables lined with wedding gifts. you stand next to sana as the reception procession continues into the night. many notable figures congratulating the marriage. as well as the intricate gifts being handed off to you. each gift being placed and documented by the minatozaki security team.

the minatozakis look happy, wearing traditional kimonos and inviting all the guests to talk about their daughters marriage.

even though the place is filled with laughter and happiness, you can't help but feel like you just entered a loveless marriage. where you are destined to avoid sana, she smiles at everyone, showering in the attention, while you can't wait to get back to work.

you had explained to sana you wanted a quiet honeymoon, one that was peaceful and relaxing. so you both went puglia, to enjoy the rich Italian culture and the beautiful greens and blues of the water.

sana spent nearly ever second of the day buying herself clothes while enjoying pestering you. often times dragging you along to carry her bags, and be at her beck and call. she calls it "conditioning for a happy marriage." you had rolled your eyes when you heard it, but you wanted a happy marriage too so you complied.

now you stand in the middle of puglia, taking photos of sana, at her request. for the third time that day.

"how many photos do you need sana?"

"as many as i want. stop talking, more clicking!" you get back to taking photos and letting her enjoy the scenery. it's quite nice being with sana, she may be a bit high maintenance, but she doesn' t overstep when it comes to your boundaries. letting you enjoy your own alone time and venturing through the city alone.

sometimes you bring back flowers or a small gift to her, all of which she happily enjoys with a warm smile.

after the honeymoon, its back to the real world. in which your father happily returned the company back to you. the merger had been successful, but you're still catching up on paperwork that only you could sign. in the coming months, sana has moved in.

living together has become a routine. when she moved into your manor, she claimed it was a nice change from her home. you were confused because her house was far more amenities, but you let her move in.

so, every morning and night, you spend time with her, sleeping in the same bed, drinking the same coffee, and sitting at the same dining table. you don't share more than a few words with her, but her presence has become a nice addition to your life.

she's made herself comfortable, her makeup products all lining your sink, heels filling the floor of the closet. her closet so big that she ordered construction to build her own walk-in.

often times you see her out lounging in the sun room doing yoga or pilates. or when she's in a good mood, she'll join you in your study room to do work herself.

she goes out at night frequently, so you make it a habit to stay up until she gets home. you know she's protected and safe with her trained bodyguards and chauffeur.

it just brings you a sense of comfort to bring her inside in case she's unwell. some nights she gets home with love bites all over her body, other nights she comes home drunk falling into your arms. you never comment on it.

she comments on your life first.

"do you...have someone special in your life?" she asks with a glass of wine in hand. you look up from your table, eyeing her in the doorframe.

"no, i'm married to my job." you look back at the work laid out for you, pushing glasses back up the bridge of your nose.

"have you slept with a woman before?" you stop your work, putting the pen down.

"sana, are we asking about each other's sex lives now?"

"well i can be curious, cant i? you always look so proper." she walks in to sit by you.

"well, yes in the past i have." you comment, a little thrown off with the line of questions. she nods her head and gives you her wine, you sip it and place it on the desk. "why do you ask?"

"we've never consummated our marriage, don't you think it's time?" she leans over, eyeing the work on your paper.

"what happened to marriage out of convenience?"

"marriage out of convenience could mean we're sex partners out of convenience," she smirks. she stands up, pushing the paper off to the side. you raise your eyebrow, trying to get her to stop messing with your work.

"sana."

"yes?" she takes the glasses off your face. a coy smile on her lips.

"we don't have to do this."

"i want to. do you?" she stands in your way, eyes trained on yours. a playful smile on her face. you get up to set your mind straight, no way were you sleeping with your non-wife.

"sana, please, you must be drunk." you walk past her, calling out to staff. "hi, could you please assist sana to bed." sana scoffs at you, flipping you off and pushing past the maid.

you return to your desk, eyebrows pushed together and a headache forming. but you can feel that spike in your stomach, you're sexually frustrated.

you've been actively avoiding being too close with sana. whenever she circles around, you scoot further away. opting for open spaces where she won't make sexual advances. rejecting her isn't fun either, she gets all pouty about it, but the way she makes you feel lately, has been dangerous. so you try your best to exercise restraint.

in the coming weeks it's harder and harder. some days she visits with your dress shirts tucked into a pencil skirt. walking in like a wet dream into your office. you will yourself to have self control but you can feel it slipping. the way you want to grab her, feel her skin under your fingertips, wanting to wrap around her.

today she manages to get under your skin. "darling, you must be so tired." she slides behind you. and starts massaging your shoulders, pressing the knots away.

you let her, feeling the tension release from your shoulders. her hands move expertly, and soon you feel more relaxed than ever. her hands begin to wander, sliding over your torso and frame. you turn to look at her, playful eyes staring back at you. you pull her into your lap, grabbing her neck for a kiss.

"i think it would be rather impolite of me to have our first time here in my office. maybe later?" you offer, playing with her pencil skirt.

"i don't care where we do it, as long as we do it now." she smirks and plays with your hair. you pull her up and place her atop your desk. walking quickly to close the door and drop the blinds.

she laughs when push her back, back hitting the desk, and then you lean over her. giving her a long kiss, before sliding your hands up her legs.

"come take what yours." she grins. you begin unbuttoning her shirt, hands trailing down until they reach her hips.

you kiss her fervently, moving towards her like a magnet. "yes miss minatozaki."

you might have to label yourself a sex addict, maybe a sana minatozaki addict actually. after sleeping with sana, you can't keep your hands off of her. often messaging her and taking days off to be around her.

it's unlike you, so unfocused and nonchalant about work. but you can't help it, sana feels like a drug and you need your supply. so here you are in your study, trying to clean up the smell of sex before your mother-in-law arrives. sana's an absolute vixen and trying to coax you into another round, but you know at any second her mother will walk into the house like its her own.

you spray a scent over top of the room urgently before closing the door behind you. a clingy sana kissing you deeply, trying so very hard to get you in bed with her.

"sana, no. your mother will be here any second." you force yourself to be the bad guy, pulling her arms off of you. to which she flicks your forehead.

"sana!" the sound of her voice booming like it's through a speakerphone. sana immediately tenses up, posture straight like a board.

"hi mother."

"glad to see you still recognize me." her mother chastises her. you watch the two woman, and you stay quiet. letting sana speak to her mother in a hushed tone, while you stand nearby.

it's hard to get a gauge on sana's mother, she's fierce and demanding. you also can't tell if she likes you, she keeps her distance. but you also can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. oftentimes she shows up requesting your presence at her events. but you play the part well as much as you can.

the older woman walks towards your living room, where she was months ago, and requesting you to marry her daughter. now she moves around your home like it's her own.

"now that you two have been happily married, it's important to discuss the next step." she starts. "we need heirs, multiple."

you and sana look at each other in horror.

"sana was the only heir in her generation of minatozaki's, i need you two to produce more than a single heir. to protect the minatozaki clan." she states firmly.

you groan into your hands, horrified at the conversation. and for the first time you see the matriach smile as she shows off photos of sana as a baby, cute as a button.

it does make you wonder about having a little sana running around, so you take the conversation topic in stride. letting the matriarch discuss traditions, schooling, extracurriculars and education to maintain the minatozaki standard.

sana is horrified to hear all this from her mother, but when she leaves, a light bulb turns on in her brain. then she smiles at you in that knowing smile.

"honey, come on, you heard my mother. we have to produce heirs. you know what that means?" then she wiggles her eyebrows as she drags you upstairs.

and you let her.

a/n: sana, sana, sana. she's been plaguing my mind recently. hope you enjoyed, proofreading is difficult work so i didn't do it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#sana #twice #twice sana #sana twice #sana minatozaki #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #sana x you #kpop imagines #twice x reader #twice x you #neoplatinum

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wonryllis · 3 months

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ʬʬ. ! LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ﹙ THINK WE KISSED ﹚

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park jongseong with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `3377 warnings. lots of cursing! unedited.

JAY VER: mutual hate f2e JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER.

"what the fuck, piggy!" you feel jay's feet against the side of the waist before his voice reaches your ears. kicked out of bed and rolled onto the floor, that's how your mornings with jay start.

"what the hell is this!" he shouts again and when you turn to look at him you find yourself questioning the same,"what the hell is that!" a litter of pretty lipstick marks all over him, collarbones to neck to jaw to face. and keyword: lips.

"you tell me! what the hell does it look like?" if it were some other time you'd have laughed your ass off at the horrified look on his face, but the very familiar shade of color on him, the one you always wear because you're quite literally obsessed with it has you horrified as well at the realization. there's no way you did that, with park jay? no no no.

"don't tell me we-"

"i have my boxers on and you're still in that ugly fucking dress so no we did not," his words are like a shower of relief to you. however to jay, it is also something else. sure he is glad you did not do anything but that dress you have on? it's not ugly, it is everything but ugly. you look so pretty in it, like a doll and he thinks it's probably the reason why he let you kiss him all up.

"you better have something to say because i don't understand how this happened," his hands rub over the marks he can see while you sit on the floor trying to remember last night. you went to a college party, and you met jay there, and having the same group of mutual friends you remember playing drinking games. a shot of tequila when you refused to kiss jay for a dare and that's where your memory fails you.

"i don't remember," you say simply, watching jay get of bed and into the bathroom.

"i don't either so let's just call it truce and forget,"

sighing in resignation, you take a look around the room, going over to the mirror to scan yourself. there under the shadow of your ear you spot something purple, a touch and it hurt. pushing your hair out of the way, you take a closer look at it. pupils dilating upon the realization that it's a hickey. with a mortified look in your eyes, you pull down at the collar of your dress to find more. a litter of it mirroring jay's kiss marks. and when you shift on your legs to inspect the other side of your neck, you feel a sting on the skin of your thighs. no way no way please no. you pray as you lift the skirt of your dress, but it's all in vain for you find bruises on the plush of your thighs, in the shapes of handprints, one on each.

you scream. you scream scream and jay is rushing out with a towel hanging low on his waist,"what! what happened!"

there's no time to feel the heat in your cheeks at sight of his naked figure, you are too traumatized by the possibilities of the events that could have happened between you two to even acknowledge the pounding of your heart on noticing the droplets of water cascading down the valley of his chest.

you show him what you had to see and in comes a scream from him.

"oh my god, fuck off before we find more things!"

"missy piggy is all dressed up," he looked you up once, coming to a halt just a step away from where you sat at the kitchen counter turned bar. he couldn't deny you looked good though, he almost lost his breath when he spotted you across the room. there were some loopholes in this weird relationship you had and he couldn't seem to accept it. he found you attractive and he was disgusted with himself for that. out of all the fishes in the sea it just had to be you. his little weakness, the pretty dress.

you wave your hand at his face,"whatever," jay doesn't like the way you just dismiss him, closing in on you blocking your view of whichever guy you were eyeing. whichever guy was hot enough to have your attention away from him.

"you wanna play some games?" his hand goes over to circle the top of your cup, noticing the orange juice in there.

"what game?"

"truth and dare, all our friends are gathering there to play," he wasn't interested to join earlier, but watching you fixated on some guys is itching him to take you away and get your ass busy.

hours later and he's in a circle, all drunk sitting right across you. 'kiss kiss kiss!" the chants go around with the bottle stopped right between your two. if he'd been sober, he would've left the second someone proposed for a kiss but with his mind all hazy right now, all he can think about is how your lips would feel on his. if the pretty shade on them would taste as sweet as they look.

to say he was disappointed when you chose to drink it out would be an understatement. jay felt no more purpose in the game, leaving as soon as you excused yourself. with your wobbly steps you sway your way to the dance floor, almost falling over yourself before jay has his hands around you, keeping you afloat.

"watch your step, pretty," he whispers into your ear.

"pretty? what happened to piggy?" there is a slight flinch in you when you whisper back, growing conscious of the proximity.

"piggies can be pretty sometimes," his hands move lower to your hips, gripping lightly as the music changes to one of sensual hues. body moving together to the sultry notes.

"we're dancing," turning to face the rather drunk boy, you trace a finger over the exposed skin of his chest. jay's sure you can feel the fast thumping of his heart under your pretty little soft tips but honestly he couldn't care less right now. the alcohol in his brain messing with his feelings. a mushy daze of everything he's ever felt for you, from middle school to college.

"together," you breathe out staring at the plump of his lips and jay feels this weird sparkling thing where his stomach twists and turns but in a good way,"apparently," all these people around, so many attractive faces he could have latched onto yet he can't imagine himself swaying away with anyone else, it just feels wrong for some reason.

"and we hate each other," the reminder is like a fresh breeze across his fuzzy mind, no matter where he looks he can't seem to feel the hatred right now,"mhm," jay reaches out with a delicate touch, watching your dazed eyes in a trance as you scan him, muzzling into his hand when he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear in a faint caress. after that it's a silence between you two, not the one where you usually think of ripping each other's hair off but perhaps one where you're thinking to eating each other's face off. at least that's all jay can think about.

you were drunk and he should have seen it coming. at some point you leave him hanging in the middle of the floor only for him to find you amidst a crowd of screams, letting it all loose on an elevated platform with a pole, right towards the front. twerking your ass off and instead of being embarrassed out of his wits jay rather feels this warm fluffy feeling. a conjured up image of a sober him driving to bars and clubs to pick up a drunk you as you shout 'baby' while running into his arms.

no what the fuck, what am i thinking. he is baffled at his own imagination. enemies to lovers trope is so not his thing. it should never be his thing. right?

"come on you need some fresh air," spotting a few guys eyeing you in the wrong way, jay is quite literally picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder before walking out the house into the backyard.

"i was having so much fun there! why did you bring me out here!" you shout, still feeling the loud music ringing in your ears.

"you were having too much fun, you needed to touch some grass," he tries shushing you, flicking lightly at your forehead.

you ignore him, too tired and used to, to bicker back,"there's a pool here?" the excitement in your voice makes him laugh, y'all have probably been sitting here for five minutes, and you've only noticed the big ass pool now. but well, with the amount of alcohol you both have in your system right now it's a miracle you're still conscious and otherwise a little sane.

"why, you wanna skinny dip?" he knows that's exactly what you would want to do, if you could. he hasn't known you for ten years for just nothing. all those fights and bickerings and make ups, he's sure he knows you more than your friends and more than you know yourself. and he's always followed you whenever you weren't following him. doing everything you did just to get a chance at annoying you.

"can we go in there?" no.

tonight he'd like to stay dry and cozy.

"it's cold, i ain't doing this," he reprimands, squinting his eyes in the distance, a look away from you to tell you he's not having it.

however it's not like you listen anyway, at least not to him.

it's like second nature at this point, running after you. be it to get on your nerves or to secretly protect you,"piggy!" he snaps up at once at the sound of you skipping down the patio. albeit almost slipping and cracking your head open on the way. jay doesn't know if he should be worried more about ending up in the hospital or getting in there with you all wet and close.

he's been in the pool with girls before but he's not been in the pool with you since you were like eleven and friends and not hit by puberty yet, in your ugly loose swim shirts and pants, hair all over in a mess with no idea about romance.

"slow down will you, i can't be bothered to drive you to medics if you break a leg or something," he whines, feeling the water soaking up the clothes against his skin as he carefully walks down the stairs leading into the pool. two steps behind with his hand reaching out to steady you incase you decide to slip again.

"try to catch me!" you yell, putting in all efforts to move as far from him as you could.

"do i look like i need to try?" his hands loop around your wrists in a moment, pulling you against his chest is a low splash. arms going around the waist as he locks eyes with yours. the palm of your hands find refuge on his chest playing with the undone buttons when the hard pounding of his heart reverberates against your skin. you're nervous, he's nervous.

"why do you hate me?" he asks.

"because you do," you answer and jay's confused. what?

"why do you hate me?" you ask him. and as expected,"because you do,"

realizing it's all a big misunderstanding, jay can't help but feel his heart race faster if that is even possible,"i don't really hate you," the pout on your lips falters his gaze, looking down to avoid his breath stopping right there and then. "neither do i," a low whisper, softly adjusting the fallen strap of your dress. he scans you over once, his little weakness, the pretty dress. no, it's you, you always know what to wear have him weak in the knees.

"your lipstick is pretty-" you look so damn pretty he wants to say, brown orbs lingering on the shine radiating off your lips.

you're both drunk, and it's probably the only time he'll be able to say it. i can do it! jay swears.

however before he can even utter a syllable, the slippery gloss of your cherry lipstick slide against his lips. feeling the plush of your lips pressing onto his own, like a step into heaven. eyes open and motionless, taking a hard time to let it sink in while you're there moving your lips, catching his bottom lip between in a gentle bite.

"pi- piggy-" when you pull away for a split second only to jump onto him, his hands immediately grabbing the back of your thighs resting them around him, trembling at the tension he feels to dive right back in to a kiss.

"shut up," you begin leaving a trail of marks starting at his neck—

that's where you scream, pulling jay out of the flashbacks. he sits on his bed, tracing his lips in a trance after you've left. he had no idea how to face you after remembering all that while you still seemed to have no clue. how he knows your lipstick tastes sweet and bitter and how you don't know that he knows that.

he takes out his phone, a faint memory of a picture. searching through his gallery is not even necessary, on the top in a grand glory he finds the photo of you perched on his lap on his bed, head tucked into his neck where one can definitely catch glimpse of your fluttering kisses.

he can't seem to recall about the hickeys on your neck, and how you got to his room. but he's sure he will in a few days. hoping you'd too until then.

for now he'll post this. there's nothing better than getting under your skin. figuratively and literally.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

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mactavishsgfandwife · 2 months

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Last Night’s Mistake - Simon "Ghost" Riley

the morning after not proofread nothing nsfw, angsty, with a little comfort at the end female reader

A slight headache is all that remains from last night - confused, tired, achy, you slowly wake up. One by one, little sensations come to your attention. Your head hurts, your body feels warm, your hips still feel a little bit sore from where the uncomfortable skirt that you wore last night dug in. And you’re in bed, in a room, shady and quiet… with an empty space on the other side of the bed.

"Shit…" you groan, your voice a little sore from the night before. This isn’t your bed.

The floor is cool under your feet as you shakily stand up - a soreness growing in your legs. In the bedroom mirror, you inspect yourself. Though the girl staring back at you is the same girl you were last night, her hair is messed up and her face is a little flushed, her makeup having almost entirely worn off except for a hint of sparkle on her eyelids. Not to mention, she’s in nothing but her panties.

Whoever’s room this is, their wardrobe is pretty bare, the only civilian clothes being a few different t-shirts and vests, two dark-coloured hoodies, a pair of sweatpants, a pair of jeans, and some smart clothes for formal occasions. Not the cutest selection, but it would do, so you grabbed the black Led Zeppelin t-shirt and pulled it on.

Sat on his bed, you fixed your hair in the mirror as you tried to remember who he was. Little memories came back from the night before, unclear, like a half-forgotten dream. Drinks. A silver ring on his finger - not a wedding ring, you noted. You were in the car, with his rough hand on your thigh, playing with the hem of that god-awful skirt. Doors clicking, sheets ruffling, short blonde hair… oh my God, you’d fucked Simon Riley.

"Shit," you curse your idiocy, for the second time this morning.

You’ve wanted Simon, you’ve always wanted Simon, but he’s kind of a dick and not the kind of person you’d seriously want to be with. Plus, he’s a little bit older than you and not the kind of man who has girlfriends. He barely even has friends.

Finding a spare toothbrush in his bathroom, you brush your teeth, and clean yourself up with some water and his men’s face cream for lack of a moisturiser, not being able to completely remove the sparkle and shadow of eyeliner from around your eyes. But you know you can’t distract yourself for too long from facing last night’s mistake. Simon.

He’s sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea, in a pair of those plaid pyjama bottoms and a black tshirt that you’re pretty sure is exactly the same as three others you just saw in his wardrobe. He doesn’t make any effort to acknowledge you, focused on some work on his laptop. Maybe the same pit of regret over last night is sitting inside his stomach, maybe he doesn’t want to acknowledge you for fear that things won’t work out - after all, a regrettable one night stand is much more bearable than a rejection. But maybe he just doesn’t care, and you figure that’s more likely.

"Morning," you speak softly, a little taken aback by his lack of interest. It just feels so empty, and part of you is just begging him to show some emotion and put an end to this weird, uncomfortable limbo.

Of course, he doesn’t do that. He looks up at you nonchalantly, and nods, as if to say "morning. see you."

Something about that reaction hurts - even if he sees this as something mutually regrettable, the way that he dismisses your existence feels the the ultimate rejection. It’s not the sex, you figure, the sex was great. At least, that’s what the shaky aching of your legs and the marking on your neck is telling you. Maybe it was just you. And in those few seconds that you stare at each other blankly, not knowing what to add to fill the silence, all the exhaustion from last night and the discomfort of this morning hits you at once and all you want to do is cry.

"I should go," your voice falters a little, ashamed, as you head back into his bedroom to fetch the stuff you’d thrown on the floor beside his bed just last night. For a moment, before closing the door behind you, you wait for any sign of a reaction from the man on the sofa. Nothing. You close the door just as your breath starts to get shaky.

For some unclear reason, you can’t seem to get going right away. So you sit on his bed, in his shirt, staring down at the terrible skirt and the shirt you’d worn with it, thrown over your favourite bag and the same shoes you wear every time you go out because you only own two pairs of shoes. You’re so ridiculous, all teary over Simon - you knew this would happen, you knew a man like that would only use you and then make you cry. You curse him, the alcohol, the terrible skirt… but mostly, yourself. He was just a crush, something stupid and unobtainable, something no girl in her right mind would actually go near. Yet here you were.

Shivering from his weirdly cold house, you slowly pull off his tshirt, the fabric brushing against your bare back as it comes off.

"You can keep the shirt, love," a gruff voice says, "looks better on you than it does in me." A chuckle comes from behind you as you jump at the sudden intrusion, and there he is, in all his… whatever he is. Simon. He’s behind you, on the bed, with an large hand reaching out to play with the end of your hair.

"Oh…" he sighs as one of your little teardrops falls on his wrist, "you alright?"

Little teardrops keep falling, and your best efforts to keep it together are starting to fall through. It feels silly, but all the exhaustion and the rejection is too much for you, despite your best efforts to deny it.

"M’fine…" you mumble, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

"You’re not fine, you’re crying," he chuckles softly, with a hint of empathy behind the gruff tone of his voice. Something about that, about him, hurts your heart as you let out a shaky sob.

Instinctively, his strong arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in to his chest. His hands are surprisingly warm, and they cup your puffy cheeks with tender care, a rough thumb wiping away your pretty tears.

"M’sorry, darling…" he holds your face close to his, and gently leans in for a kiss. You don’t have any energy in you to resist, but you don’t really want to. Si doesn’t feel like a mistake anymore. He feels like comfort.

hope you enjoyed! that was a long one for me :3

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adelheidvonschicksal · 26 days

Note

Megumi falling in love for the first time?

Attempts at Friendship are Unappreciated

Synopsis: Megumi doesn’t have a need for friends, let alone a lover. But upon getting his first crush, he learns some new things about himself, like maybe he cares more than he thinks.

pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x GN!Reader

content warning: SFW, potential friends to lovers, Megumi sorting out his feelings sort of stuff because cynical, overthinker Megumi is my favorite Megumi.

If you were to ask Megumi, he didn’t have any need for friends. And he has been asked before by people like Gojo and his sister. The answer was always the same. He prefers being alone. People were too complicated. Too selfish. Too good. Too everything, really. And he was, well, himself.

Even after arriving at Jujutsu High, it’s still unnerving to him to have someone talk to him so earnestly, like his eyes weren’t permanently fixed with irritation, like he wasn’t constantly avoiding others, like he didn’t wear indifference like a new fur coat in the height of winter.

Itadori was an unexpected exception. An outburst of emotion intravenously linked him to the other boy, the golden strings of their destinies twined and knotted together on Fate’s spinning wheel.

You, on the other hand, have no reason to befriend him. He’s never had anything to offer others in return for their company, which never bothered him until he met you.

Megumi questioned what it was about you that allows you to get so close. So, he lets you talk, chattering his ear off in the covered walkway hosting the vending machines.

He studies you inch by inch, searching for something in the bright expression on your face and the crinkle of your eyes when you smile; he still doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for. Your motive – the reason for wanting to talk to someone like him?

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.

“I don’t have one.”

It may sound like a rude dismissal of your question but it's the truth, the painfully boring truth. He’s never put much thought into trivial things like that. The fact settles heavily in his stomach and rings hollow in his chest like when his sister said he’d never learn to make friends if he didn’t put himself out there.

Back then, Megumi pretended not to have heard her. In truth, it bothered him when she said it, only for the feeling to quickly fade away before he even left school that day. That strange void he felt back then always seems to resurface at the worst of times.

“Would you say that you like black or silver better? How about blue?”

Megumi looks down and plays with the tab on his orange juice can, avoiding the thing about you that makes him want to hear you talk. Megumi has no need for friends. Attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

“They’re all fine,” he grumbles out. It’s the maximum he allows.

Megumi doesn’t have a type. It’s another one of those trivial things he’s never bothered to think about until his head was literally cracked through the pavement.

He knows all about types though, and he knows as much as he cares about romance from the bad to the good. Sweaty palms, blushing faces, pounding hearts were all reoccuring themes in his books.

Megumi never thought he’d have romantic feelings for anyone, no matter how fleeting. He reckons he isn’t capable of it. He just isn’t wired that way.

It’s comforting in a sense. It means he didn’t have to worry about attachments. Sure, he loves his sister, and Gojo, well, he cares for his benefactor, but he’s never considered the older man someone he felt okay investing all his feelings into. People his own age were complicated enough; adults were worse, his father was worse; the little he remembers anyway.

When he thinks about the way he met Gojo who too conveniently saved him from the Zen’in clan in exchange for becoming his student, it’s hard for him to let his trust flow purely even after all this time; even when Gojo took it upon himself to do Megumi favors like putting Itadori's room right next door (another thing Megumi didn't appreciate).

Megumi blames his long-seated resentment for the reason his heart starts to work overtime the day you present friendship bracelets to everyone. They’re fancy; many steps above the cheap kind that you’d find at some discount convenience store with plastic alphabets and random beads and symbols. He assumes a couple of the pieces might be real.

Kugisaki’s is green, shining on her wrist like emeralds. Megumi thinks it suits someone like Kugisaki, who would undoubtedly love to be covered in jewels. Itadori has a similar one, rotating with a pattern of red and opaque white pieces.

Standing in that hall, drowning out the conversation between Kugisaki and Itadori about who has the prettier bracelet, Megumi realizes he’s next.

It starts when you step in front of him; there’s a cautious tone to your voice when you say his name because you already know: attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

It's with a roll of anxiousness, the one that always comes with the mystery of whether his exchange with someone will be positive or negative and the skeptic thought in his head that reminds him most people always want something in return, that makes him throw up a wall.

“These probably aren’t your thing but I made one for you too,” you preface. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t really sure what to put on it so I made some guesses.”

You’re right. Friendship bracelets aren’t his thing; needing a token like a bracelet to prove your relationship to someone is asinine. It’s against what is supposed to make a friendship special. Strong friendships should need no words, right?

Most importantly, he doesn’t need it, and there’s no reason for you to give him one.

“You keep it,” he starts. However, it’s already too late as you grab his arm and slide the trinket over his hand.

“I don’t—” he starts again; there’s a bit of surprise in the way you look at him, the way everyone stops and looks at him actually. This quickly becomes one of those times where it’d be easier to go with the flow than to fight the current. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “Only because you already made it,” he explains more fully, stifling the embarrassment that wants to bubble from his chest with so much attention.

Like before, he finds himself too focused on watching you, the way your eyes soften from surprise and rejection to shining stars. He thinks this must be how the protagonists in those books feel when heat creeps up their neck. Those books also left him sorely unprepared that it would go past neck to his face and ears.

He breaks away from the situation, finding a way to retreat into the background to shield himself from the gooey feeling permeating the air. He drops his gaze to his arm, focusing on the bracelet with his name accompanied by a repetition of blue and silver, connecting the two—four—of you together.

Megumi fixes his sleeve over the bracelet, but he can’t hide how painfully aware he is of the charms rolling against his skin.

It was both a pleasant feeling and completely alien.

It broke.

Megumi was a bit reckless against a low-level curse, and it broke. He didn’t even realize it until after the battle was over and one of the silver charms were rolling under his foot.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was bound to happen eventually considering this line of work. Yet, he still picked up the few pieces he could separate from the gravel, and the entire ride home his wrist feels unreasonably bare.

Thinking about how he messed up makes him annoyed at himself, especially when he wonders what you’d think if you noticed he wasn’t wearing it. You’d probably think he tossed it somewhere; that he didn’t like it. He liked it. The same way he likes to listen to you talk on car rides home after missions or when you ask him to hang out with you and the others or when you read all the books he recommends with the protagonists that are quickly becoming too relatable with every skipped heartbeat and tongue-tied word. He’s frustrated to acknowledge why that’s the case.

It’s only been three months since the start of the school year, he thinks. It took only three months for his thoughts to start drifting to his classmates, with you almost always center stage in them.

When he arrives back at the school, he finds your room and knocks on your door. He shows you what little remains of the gift you gave him, as if he needs to immediately absolve himself of any wrongdoing.

“Do you want me to make you another one?” you ask cautiously.

Megumi can guess why you’re hesitant considering he only accepted your gift because of peer pressure. He still believes gifts like this are silly and unnecessary.

But…

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

He wants it.

So, he goes into your room where he watches you begin the process of making him another bracelet. You ask him which accessories he would prefer, and like always he doesn’t have much preference other than what you think is best. As long as it isn’t too silly, of course.

He gives his undivided attention to how your fingertips pour over your work kit and the many square boxes filled with different miniature shapes before you carefully pick out one with a little dog face.

“I think this one is good,” you whisper to yourself before continuing your search for another complementing bead.

You smile as you work. It’s nice. Cute even as you bite down on your lip in concentration; and right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with that information other than note the way it makes his palms feel clammy especially when he notices your eyes lift back up to his.

Megumi notices a lot about you actually. He notices how you always go out your way to get his, well, everyone’s opinion on everything. He notices that whenever you share your snacks with everyone that you always save ginger for him. He notices how your gaze lingers on him when you ask if everyone is in one piece after difficult missions. He also notices how your finger stops over a silver square, one with a little black heart carved in each side. He wonders, perhaps too hopefully, if the charm is just one you think he’d like or if it means more than that.

“Why do you always keep trying to talk to me?” he asks, fighting the urge to beg you to stop getting stuck in his mind so much.

Your head snaps up from what you’re doing.

“What do you mean? We’re teammates,” you answer simply.

“Aren’t missions enough? We don’t need to interact aside from that.”

You pinch your eyebrows at him, and there’s a frown on your face. “Sure we do.”

“There’s no reason.”

It’s not like he ever saved your life, not like Itadori. It’s not like he has a somewhat familial relationship with you, like Gojo. You’re not his sibling or his parent; he’s not the friendlist either so there’s no reason to try to get closer any more than necessary, and there’s no reason for him to be feeling so nervous right now.

“How about because I like talking to you? I think you’re pretty funny, and you’re a kind person.” You shake your head, laughing. “I don’t know. I just like being friends with you.”

Megumi doesn’t know what he was expecting. Some deep explanation why you keep trying to get close to him? Some selfish excuse from you that he could use to warrant pushing you away. A reason to justify why he likes you so much? A reason to hope you like him just as much?

Maybe.

There doesn’t need to be some special reason for you wanting to be his friend, which means he doesn’t really need a reason either.

“I see.”

“Finished,” you say, holding out his newly made bracelet to him. “I poured some of my cursed energy into it, so it won’t break so easily next time.”

Megumi feels calm once again when he feels the weight and roll of the beads on his skin again; the aura of your curse energy humming through it makes the connection back to you much more noticeable.

“What about me?” you ask, drawing his attention. “Do you like being friends with me?”

Megumi can’t answer that, not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because he feels like his tongue weighs more than lead as you lean closer into him.

His eyes find your lips, soft and parted. This is the first time he’s gotten the urge to kiss someone. It makes his stomach whirlwind, and he quickly finds a way to answer you without having to look at you as he picks at one of the charms.

“Can I make you one?”

The next morning, Megumi decides to go out with you and the others for breakfast, which in hindsight was a mistake as Itadori points out the new accesory you’re wearing on your wrist.

“Hey, you got one too now.”

You smile, holding it up proudly. “Megumi made it for me!”

“Megumi?!” Itadori blurts out.

“Made it for you?” Nobara asks with raised eyebrows and a hand on her hip.

“He did a really good job.”

It’s like the time before when you first gave them their gifts, and everyone is looking at him again. “I didn’t do anything special; a monkey could do it,” he mumbles out.

Itadori is the first to crack a laugh followed by Kugisaki. Then, the two of them start muttering and teasing him in unison.

“He’s so modest,” Itadori points out.

“Loverboy,” Kugisaki whispers.

“Can we call you Megumi too?” Itadori asks.

Megumi doesn’t have the patience to consider whether the other boy is being genuine or not as he grits his teeth and growls out a quick “shut up” before konking Itadori on the head to prove his point. It’s enough to make them leave him alone for now as Itadori accidentally trips into Kugisaki from the force.

“That was completely unnecessary, Fushiguro,” Kugisaki grumbles as she pushes Itadori off and stands back to her feet.

Megumi sighs.

This is why he doesn’t want friends.

“Did you just sigh at me!”

“If that’s what you heard,” he tells her.

“You better sleep with both eyes open!”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

Yet if it’s those two then he guesses having friends isn’t completely unbareable.

Suddenly, Megumi loses focus at the timbre of your laugh.

“You guys are starting early today.”

You’re still laughing at them, harder now actually, and it’s precious. He throws his gaze to the wall as if he’s ignoring Kugisaki and not trying to hide the heat blooming on his cheeks when you glance at him, making him aware that he’s the reason for your laughter.

Megumi shoves his hands in his pockets and rolls his thumb over the bracelet and the heart you left behind there.

Friendship is something he’s coming around to. Having a crush for the first time, well, he still needs work on figuring that out.

#megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 11 months

Note

Hiii, omg first of all I just wanted to say I loved Ur miles morales earth 42 imagine "second chance" like all my days I'm in love. But like anyway I was wondering if I could request another one with him and Spider man miles? Soooo, it's basically where in spider man miles earth the reader died and when he gets to earth 42 (the part where he thought he was back in his own earth) he sees her and try's to apologise for not saving her and that he's so glad she alive but little does he know the reader is actully with earth 42 miles and that miles gets all over protective and jealous???

(Hello! Sure I can and so sorry if this sucks but I hope you enjoy this little drabble!)

Taglist

Not Your Lover

Miles knew something was wrong, he figured it out immediately, not really, but he did.

He knew he needed to leave. He knew he needed to get home. He wanted nothing more than to get home.

But every thought of leaving and going home, back to his home where his family was, disappeared when he heard the door open.

Home was where he had his family.

But home didn't have you.

"I'm back, Mrs. Morales!"

Miles froze the second he heard, standing in the hallway before he slowly turned on his heel to see you.

You looked just as beautiful. The same way you did before he couldn't save you.

Miles didn't know what to do, just watching as you left your things by the door, looking around as you walked in before your eyes met his.

Miles almost broke down once your eyes met him, your same smile on your face that you always had for him as you got closer.

"You okay, Miles?" You asked, your smooth voice bringing Miles nothing but comfort as he couldn't help but stare at you.

You looked at Miles confused, Miles couldn't help but to bring himself forward, bringing you into a much needed hug as he buried his face into your neck, almost crying as the familiar scent of your perfume he had gotten you filled his senses.

"Woah!"

Miles held onto you as you said in surprise, not letting go as you slowly hugged him back, he felt your arms around him as he did his best not to cry.

Miles didn't want to do anything but to stay with you, but couldn't as you pulled back, looking at him with seemingly worry as you cupped his cheek.

"Are you feeling okay?" You asked, concerned as Miles almost didn't hear you, barely shaking his head.

"No- yeah. I'm okay." Miles barely muttered out, eyes darting over your entire face, not wanting to look away in fear you would leave as you did before.

"Okay, then." You gave him a weird look before you smiled, brushing off his weird behavior as you took his hand, leading him out and to the stairs.

"Come on. I made something for you."

Miles could hear you say as you walked up the stairs quickly, like you always did, leaving him behind for a moment.

"Hey, wait up!" Miles called after you, desperate to not let you out his sight but stopped in pain as he glitched, groaning in pain as he leaned into the railing.

"Miles?"

Miles looked up to see you standing above the flight of stairs, looking at him weirdly.

Miles saved himself, waving his hand to dismiss your worry as he climbed after you quickly.

You got to the roof first, Miles coming through the door not far after.

"Hey-" Miles tried once more before he stopped himself, looking around the roof, the changes evident as he looked back and forth.

That wasn't everything that was new.

Miles couldn't help but look at the brick wall, staring for a moment before a passing by train lit it up, giving just enough time for Miles to see the painted face.

The face no longer was Uncle Aaron and you.

But instead was Miles' dad.

Miles couldn't look away, his wide eyes staring at the portrait of his dad.

He didn't save his dad. His dad was gone.

He needed to go home. He had to go home.

Miles couldn't move, his feet planted to the floor.

Miles only turned when he remembered you were there, he slowly turned his head, expecting to see anything but he got nothing.

Your face was changed, everything was different now as any aspect he saw of his (Name) was gone, replaced by someone else he didn't know.

Miles wanted to deny it, but the way you looked at him before a small smirk came onto your face rendered him, every spider sense screaming for him to get the hell out.

Suddenly, you whistled a soft tune. Your cunning smile still on your face as you walked around Miles, his eyes following you, a mistake.

Miles watched as a figure dressed in a familiar but different suit jumped from the rooftop of another building, Miles thought to escape but couldn't, already punched down to the floor.

"Too bad. He's pretty cute."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles woke up with a pain, his body felt constricted and his sight blurred as everything hurt.

He couldn't remember where he was or what happened for a moment before his eyes shot open, the panic setting in.

Miles was chained to a punching bag, looking around frantically before he saw you.

Your back was turned to him, working at a desk peacefully.

Miles breathed heavily, panicking as he moved around, making the chains clink together and catching your attention.

You perked up quickly, turning around to look at him as you took out an earphone, looking him over like he was some sort of joke.

You then smiled, a smile he once loved, but a smile he now couldn't place and one he was growing to hate.

You whistled softly once more, a soft alert as you put down everything onto the desk, now leaning against it as you waited.

Miles was too stunned to speak, trying to find the words before he stopped as he looked up, seeing the one who rendered him unconscious now hanging from a support beam, dropping down quickly.

Miles stared at him as he stared back, his masked face concealing his identity.

Miles watched almost fearfully as panic rose again, spider senses hay-wire as the masked one got closer, close enough for Miles to look at his face directly.

"Take off the fucking mask. It's not scaring anyone, babe."

Miles glanced at you, seemingly shocked and hurt as you called him babe.

But Miles was even more shocked as he heard the one in the mask sigh, the mask coming off a moment later to stun Miles even more.

Under the mask, resided his face.

Miles Morales' exact copy was under the mask, or at least, him in this world.

Miles could only watch as the formerly masked Miles glared at him before his copy walked over to you, forced to watch as you smiled up at him.

Miles could feel his heart beating and almost cracking as you glanced at him, the same smug smile on your lips as your Miles stood close to you.

Your Miles slipped his hand onto your neck, kissing your forehead before he went to your lips, and greedily, you accepted his kiss.

Miles knew a lot in his life, and that was that he loved his (Name) and she loved him.

You were not his (Name).

His (Name) died for him.

You would be the death of him.

#across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse spoilers #into the spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse #miles morales earth 42 x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader

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kamiversee · 2 months

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 13 || The Unexpected

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, sexual tension, & smut.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.5k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU RUSH OUT OF THE building completely flustered with an embarrassed expression written all over your face.

Perhaps after dealing with men who so easily compliment you and fell for your flirtatious traps you'd grown accustomed to not being turned down. Getting dismissed by a man like Toji Fushiguro isn't exactly something you planned for.

It won't stop you from showing up next week and trying again but it will leave you embarrassed and shamefully horny.

You strolled down the campus pathway, heading toward where your car was with your head stuck on what had just happened. The man seriously just told you to get out. You thought you had managed to seduce him at least a little but now you guess you were wrong.

So distracted with your thoughts of what just happened, you nearly miss as a familiar voice calls your name. Your lashes flutter as you blink a few times and look around the area to spot the man who'd called your name.

Your brows push together when you don't see anyone. Okay, now you're hearing things-

"Right here, gorgeous." Geto suddenly whispers into your left ear.

The sudden sound makes you jump and you move your hand to smack his chest for scaring you. He chuckles at your reaction and you give him an annoyed scowl.

"Suguru, don't scare me like that!" You huff.

Geto snickers at you, "Sorry."

A pout takes over your expression and the sight furthers his amusement.

"You're so cute," He hums, raising a hand to pinch your cheek. You immediately smack him off. "Oh c'mon, don't be like that. You didn't even send me a text after our date... How do you think that makes me feel?" He says with a sudden frown.

You blink. "Uh..."

"That's not nice, y'know. Leaving me all high and dry." Geto continues as he shakes his head at you.

"I just thought..." You trail off for a second and the man leans toward your face suddenly.

The words you were going to say fall off your tongue completely as Geto abruptly begins to study your facial expression.

"You alright?" He asks.

You try leaning away, "Yes, why?"

"You look..." His eyes narrow, "I dunno, horny?"

"H-Huh?" Your heartbeat spikes in alarm. If he can tell, does that mean Mr. Fushiguro was able to see that as well? "How the hell can you notice something like that?!" You question the man.

"Darling, I spent an entire night seeing you with that exact same facial expression. I don't think I'll be forgetting it anytime soon." Geto reminds you.

You grit your teeth slightly, "Is it... Is it that obvious?" You mumble.

The man in front of you grows surprised, eyebrows raising and a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "I mean, to me, yes. Though, I wasn't expecting you to admit it so truthfully."

You freeze. Shit, you just told on yourself. "Uh.."

"No need to try lying about it now." Get said with a shrug. He then stands straight up, "What-, actually, who got you all worked up?"

"Uhm..." Your eyes dart off to the side. Why the hell would you tell him anything-

"Was it Mr. Fushiguro?" Geto guesses. He was going based on the building you just left and who was likely to be in there.

Your eyes fly right back over to the man, "How the fuck-"

"Did you forget that I know about the list...?" He reminds you with a slight chuckle.

"You..." A sudden thought rushes to your mind. "Holy shit, you do, don't you?"

"Yeah, so-"

"Shouldn't I be pissed with you right now?" You ask as you remember that Gojo said Geto had videoed you the night of your date.

He scoffs. "What for?"

"Didn't you record me??" You question.

For a moment, Geto stares at you as if he's contemplating something. Then he swallows, "Uh, no."

"No?? But Gojo said-"

"He lied."

"He..." Your head cocks back in surprise, "He what?"

"He lied. I never recorded you." Geto says honestly.

You scowl at the male, "Bullshit."

"When would I have had time to do that?" He scoffs, "I could hardly think straight with the way you were sucking my-"

You move a hand over his mouth and look to your left and right. "Shut up," You snap at the man. "No need to put our business out there like that..."

Geto chuckles beneath your palm before lightly taking hold of your wrist and pulling your hand away. "My bad. But seriously, when would I have recorded you? And if you want," He moves to pull his phone out, "You can check my phone."

You stare up at him, glance down at his phone for a second, then look back up at him. "You could've sent it to Gojo and then deleted it from your phone." You point out.

"True but, I didn't," Geto says.

You fold your arms, "And how am I supposed to believe you?"

"What reason would I have to lie?"

"I don't know."

"And what good would blackmailing you do me? I'm not Satoru." Geto tells you.

He has a point, but you're still unsure if you want to trust him. "You're his best friend though."

"We're two different people. Completely opposite of each other." He hums.

"Okay..." You say, batting your eyelashes at him. "That doesn't prove anything or make me want to believe you any more."

"Alright," Geto sighs, "What if I offer you comfort?"

"Comfort...?"

"I can only imagine how alone you feel in your situation."

Fuck, he's right. You swallow, "I..."

"You can't tell Shoko because you feel embarrassed, can't talk to Satoru because you 'hate' him, and I'm not sure if you know anyone else that you'd comfortably want to talk to about this." Geto points out flawlessly.

You simply stare at the man with hardly any response to that. He's right, after all, you have been feeling ridiculously alone in your predicament.

"I obviously can't make you believe me about not recording you but, you can trust me." He claims.

You remain unconvinced, "How do I know you're not trying to manipulate me like Gojo?"

"Because if I was trying to manipulate you, I would've done it already."

"Uhuh, sure you would've."

"I'm serious. I only approached you today because I wanted to talk to you about this."

"Yeah right."

"I don't know what Satoru has going on in that head of his but even a blind man could see that what he's doing isn't right."

Your eyes suddenly light up, "Are you saying you're going to help me out of this?"

"No."

"But... you could if you wanted to," You say as you raise a brow, "Couldn't you?"

Of course he could. All Geto has to do is tell you the truth about the situation. "What makes you think that?" He asks.

"Suguru..." Your eyes narrow and you lean closer to him accusingly, "You know something that could get me out of this, don't you?"

"N-No." Geto stammers.

"Liar."

"Alright, let's say hypothetically I did... I wouldn't be able to help you out without fucking myself over."

You blink. "Huh, how?"

"Do you really think Satoru is going to be happy with me ruining his fucked up little plan?"

"Well, probably not... But you're his best friend!" You emphasize, "He'll forgive you."

"Perhaps." Geto hums, "But I don't think you realize, you're not the only one Satoru's willing to blackmail."

"...He'd blackmail you too?"

"Maybe. And if not, he'd probably go out and tell people things about me I never intended on sharing..."

"Kinda like how you're a dirty little pervert?" You blurt out teasingly.

The man halts for a second, then he snickers. "Yes... Like that."

"Speaking of which... Do you still have my panties?"

"I do," He smirks and moves as if he were about to pull something out of his pocket, "Want em' back?"

"Y-You don't just walk around with them, do you?"

He laughs at your facial expression, "No."

You sigh, "Thank god. A-And yes I want them back."

"Come over one day and take em' from me." Geto taunts.

"Not happening."

"That's what I thought," He chuckles. "Anyways, back to what I was saying, you can trust me. I can't help you out of your situation directly but maybe I can help you through it."

"Really? You'd do that?" You ask, smiling at him slightly.

He stares at your expression, "Sure."

"Wait... in exchange for what?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying." Geto sighs, "Here, I can even suggest something for you."

"What?"

"Satoru's paying you right?"

"...Yeah?"

"Ask him if he'll pay you for each time you sleep with someone," Geto suggests.

"You mean like," An eyebrow raises, "If I sleep with someone more than once?"

"Mhm." He hums.

"But why would I sleep with someone twice...?"

He shrugs innocently, "I mean, right now you're horny and I'm standing right here..."

"I..." You blink, "Suguru do you want to have sex again? Is that why you're trying to help me?"

"Okay, no. That's not why I want to help you, though the sex would be a nice bonus... I've been thinking about how you probably feel." Geto says. You can feel the genuine care in his voice but you're still wary of trusting him.

"So, what, you wanna be my therapist?" You reply with a playful scoff.

He chuckles, "You sound just like him, y'know."

"Don't compare me to that asshole."

"Sorry. But if that's what you wanna call me, sure. I can be your therapist." He shrugs. "Now," Geto moves to toss an arm over your shoulder and pull you close to his side. He then tips his head down to your ear, "Tell me what has you so aroused right now?"

Steadily, the two of you begin walking together.

You swallow, "You want the details...?"

"Sure, why not?" He responds rhetorically.

"Pervert."

"C'mon, what happened in that classroom?"

With a roll of your eyes, you give in, "The professor is fucking hot, that's what."

Geto scoffs, "Yet I'm the perv."

"You are."

"But... you're the one fantasizing about a teacher fucking you..."

"I-I wasn't..."

"Really?" He smirks, "You weren't thinking about getting on your knees and being like 'please sir, just the ti-"

Heat rushes to your face, "Stop it."

Geto starts laughing at you, "Shit, I'm right aren't I? That's one of your dirty little fantasies, isn't it?"

"It's not."

"You can be honest with me, I won't judge."

"...Okay, so what if it is..."

He pauses his words for a second. The man's eyes are all over the side of your face as you keep your gaze forward. "I personally think that's hot," Geto tells you.

"Of course you do." You chuckle.

"What do you mean of course??"

"Slut."

He frowns, "That's your second time calling me that."

"You like it."

He falls silent.

"See? Can't even say you don't."

Geto abruptly whispers your name into the crown of your ear, his voice lower than you expected it to be. "Careful now, darling."

You scoff, "Why?"

"Cause, you're turning me on."

You swallow. Your lower lip gets caught between your teeth at his sudden claim and you can't ignore the fact that your arousal has yet to go away.

"You uh... Do you think Gojo will actually pay me for sleeping with someone twice?" You question, slowly turning your head to look at the man.

Geto meets your eyes and both of you have the same exact thing in mind. The tension was so very obvious.

He didn't need to say anything and neither did you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

This was unexpected. You have no idea how you let yourself get in this position. Damn Geto and his way of convincing you to trust him.

Well, it's not a bad thing that you're trusting him. He made some very valid points, especially the one about him being the only one who knows about your situation and won't judge you for it.

Yet, none of that would've made you think you'd end up in the back seat of his car with his head in between your legs and his tongue deep in your cunt. Good god, the man eats you out like he'd be waiting to do so.

"Fuck Sugu," You breathed out.

The loud sounds of him sucking and slurping on your folds filled the car air. His tongue moved so sloppily over you, lapping up every drop of your wetness like there's no tomorrow.

It was all too much and too little at the same time.

"Tastes so fuckin' good," Geto groans, his voice vibrating against your clit and making your back arch off the seat slightly.

You've got your fingers tangled in that beautiful head of hair of his, unconsciously tugging at it every now and then. The way he'd wrap his lips around your sensitive bud has your lip quivering with moans pouring from your mouth.

Geto flicked his tongue over it and then shifted slightly to swirl the tip of his tongue around your clit. Those large hands over his were tightly gripping onto the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread no matter how much you squirmed beneath him.

He pulled his jaw back slightly and peeked up at you for a second before sticking his tongue out and pressing it flat against your wet cunt. Geto slides one of his hands up along your thigh while slurping your taste into his mouth.

Pulling away from your pussy with a loud pop, you hear him swallow. "You've gotta let me get these off you," Geto pleads, referring to the pretty lace stockings you had on.

"W-Why," You stammer as he moves to kiss over your sex.

"Mgh," He moans into you. "I n-need em'" Geto tells you, his voice desperate.

You were unaware but the man's cock was bulging against his pants and he'd been dry humping his car seat to get some kind of friction as he ate you out. You gasp as he moved to rub his thumb over your clit and his mouth focuses on your insides.

A breathy chuckle leaves you, "Need em' f-for what...?" You voice out in between a moan.

The man couldn't even respond to you as he needily worked to please you. Geto's tongue was buried so deep inside your pussy that you think you were starting to see stars. Along with his thumb, you felt his nose brush up against your clit as he pressed his face into your sex.

An arm draped over your mouth, "Y-You're makin' a mess... ngh, Sugu... hah..." You moaned out to the man.

You could feel the way he smiled at your words. The hand that's still on your thigh slides up and one of your stockings is suddenly stripped from you in an instant.

"Mmmgh... I know," He whispers. His face was so wet from you but he didn't care, simply shoving his tongue into your sopping hole regardless.

Confusion takes over your expression for a second but when Geto pulls away and spits on your cunt to further the sloppiness of it all, your brain fades to mush.

That one stocking of yours is soon used for the male to relieve himself. Another loud popping sound is heard as he pries his lips from you and lifts his head. His eyes are so low and lustful, his tongue hangs slightly out of his mouth, and the bottom of his face is coated in your slick.

Geto licks his lips, "Hah... I have class soon," He hums before sitting up.

Two of his fingers slot into you abruptly to make up for the lack of his mouth. "Hnngh... A-Ah, then why'd you w-want to..." Your words fade into a whine as he curls his digits up into your g-spot.

His other hand hastily works to free his cock from his clothes and you hazily watch him hold your stocking in his mouth for a second. After his dick is freed from restrictions, your cunt clenched around him at the sight of Geto using those stockings of yours to jerk off-- shamelessly moaning at the contact of the soft fabric to his shaft.

Your jaw drops at the sight, "You're so... f-fuckin' dirty," You say meanly, words going straight to the man's cock.

Geto tosses his head back, one hand working to please you and the other moving to relieve himself simultaneously. "F-Fuck, mgh... keep, shit, keep talkin' to me like that." He requests.

The fingers thrusting inside you increase in pace and you feel a thumb swat over your clit. "Ha-ah, you're so nasty Sugu..."

"Yeah?" He flashes a smile, "Fuck, 'm gonna cum if you keep degrading me like that."

"Mm-mmh... look at you, ngh-, getting off with my stocking..." Your eyes roll back a little, "So filthy-, fuck." You squeak out as your climax approaches.

"Agh," Geto groans, the jerking motion of his hand growing faster as his precum smears along his length.

The situation was so lewd-- Geto jerking off with a clothing item that'd just been wrapped around your leg for hours and his free hand eagerly fingering you as he did so. Your legs steadily drew together while the squelching sound of his two thick fingers plunging into you hit your ears.

It sounded so messy and sloppy. Your moaning and Geto's groaning were filling the car and fogging up his already tinted windows.

Your orgasm crashed over you when the male swiveled his digits around inside you. His eyes were on yours as you did so, large hand pumping his cock with vigor at the sight of you.

"Oh f-fuck," Geto moaned, his voice slightly pitched.

Your eyes were glossy as your orgasm died down but you clearly saw as the man slid his fingers out of you and brought them up to his mouth. You watch those pretty eyes of his rollback once your taste is on his tongue again and he groans against his fingers as he too reaches his peak.

Geto sucks your slick off his own fingers and cums hard into his hand and all over your stockings. The sight of his body shuddering slightly and a string of saliva connecting from his fingertips to his lower lip as he pulls his hand away from his mouth is something you drink in entirely.

You carefully shut your legs and innocently stare at the mess the man has made of himself. "You're gross..." You say teasingly.

"Hah," He pants slightly and glances over to you, "Am I?"

"You just came all over my stocking..." You say with a scoff, "Perv."

"S'that your new nickname for me or something?" Geto asks.

"Yeah, it is." You say with a sigh. After which you shut your eyes and grin, "Gojo better pay me for this or you're in trouble."

"I'm sure he will." He responds simply.

"If he doesn't..." You begin moving to sit up, "You'll owe me."

"Oh, so you're a full-time whore then?"

"N-No but... I need the money," You mumble.

Geto looks down at the nasty mess he's made of himself and chuckles, "I'll pay you if you come clean me up."

You blink, "Are you serious...?"

"Maybe."

You think about it for a second but when you look down at the pitiful sight of your cum covered stocking wrapped around his length, you frown.

"Nah, I'm good." You say simply.

Geto rolls his eyes, "You're no fun."

And with that, the two of you respectively begin to clean yourselves up. You ended up texting Gojo and asking him that question of yours. To which he responded with a bunch of follow-up questions regarding if you had just slept with his best friend again.

When you told him yes, he ended up leaving you on read and simply sending you more money. A smile had grown on your face when you realized that fact bothered him to the point where he couldn't even respond to you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Knowing that you could hook up with anyone on the list more than once and still get paid for it was something that oddly made you quite happy.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you did two things. First, you and Geto ended up talking more than you expected to. He'd give you decent advice on how to seduce Toji and you used every bit of it.

Secondly, you attended that one class and endured a private lesson every Monday while getting riskier and riskier with your flirting.

Each lesson ended relatively the same nonetheless, Toji would say that it's been enough time the very second you had this certain look in your eyes. He learned to steal himself for the way you look at him or the questions you may ask and ever since that one time, he's never allowed you to tempt him again.

You used every ounce of advice that Geto continuously gave you-- maintain your posture, give him bedroom eyes, respond in ways that make the man feel like he's in control, etc. Surprisingly, Geto's advice was really good.

You notice subtle changes every time you use his suggestions and you're pretty sure it was all working. Slowly but surely, Toji was growing closer and closer to crossing that line with you.

After that spontaneous hook-up you had with Geto, you found yourself doing it a few times actually. It was always random and sometimes you didn't even bother to ask Gojo for money because having a fuck buddy was kinda fun.

And no, you didn't forget about the walking green flag that is Choso Kamo. The two of you went from texting every few days and a few phone calls to texting every single day and multiple phone calls. Although you couldn't tell him about the list, you were growing very close to him in terms of friendship.

In your mind, you had Geto to rant to about the list and Choso to talk to about anything else. You had started to feel comfortable in your situation. Well, to a certain extent of course.

There was always this little voice in the back of your mind screaming every time you flirted with Mr. Fushiguro but aside from that, you were slowly getting more and more into this role of yours.

You still actively ignored Gojo unless it was about the list, Geto was a good fuck every now and then and he'd listen to you complain whenever you needed to, Choso was just this little ball of sunshine who you wanted to avoid hurting at all costs, and Toji was...

Okay well, the man was completely fine up until the fourth week of your lessons with him.

It was the first and only time you had arrived late. You missed the entire lecture and arrived at his classroom just as the man seemed to be packing up to leave.

Toji was standing at his desk grabbing a few things but he paused when you came rushing into his classroom. Your breathing was heavy, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to regain oxygen in your lungs.

Your eyes were noticeably low, your face flushed with emotions, and your top was noticeably undone. With your hands on your knees and your body hunched over slightly, you panted heavily to catch your breath.

"M-Mr. Fushiguro, I... hah, I'm sorry I'm l-late." You huffed out.

The man was quiet as he stared at you. Slowly, you stood straight up and began to fan yourself off.

"Fuck," You curse. "Sir it's so hot in here."

Toji blinked at the sight of you slightly sweaty and still out of breath. With a scoff and a light shake of his head, he turns and takes a seat at his desk. "Did you run here or somethin'?" He asks, voice deep and husk like always.

You nod your head, "Y-Yeah."

Was that entirely true? No, but, you weren't going to tell him that.

As you look at the older man you notice that his gaze is slowly trailing down your body. That little stockings and skirt combo is hugging your body again and you don't miss the way Toji oggles the sight of you.

As his gaze rises back up, it comes to a pause at your chest and he raises an eyebrow at you. You blink and look down at yourself, noticing you've got more buttons undone than intended to.

"Shit," You whisper while raising your hands to fix yourself, "Sorry Sir."

"You're fine." The man says. "Sure you still wanna' interview me today?" He asks.

You nod your head again and glance up to look at him as your fingers work against your shirt, "Yes. I know I came late but I'm here now."

Toji moves to rest his elbow on his desk, propping his arm up and resting his cheek against his knuckles. "Care to explain why you were late?" He questions.

You freeze. "U-Uhm."

How are you supposed to tell him that you were late because you were too busy sucking Geto off in his car and almost completely forgot about these lessons of yours?

"Uhm?" Toji mocks, raising an eyebrow.

"Traffic." You result in telling him before looking back down at your shirt.

You began to struggle with one of the buttons and it was starting to frustrate you, especially since you left Geto completely untouched and now you're all hot, horny, and frustrated.

Toji's eyes narrow in on the messy state of your shirt. You looked more disheveled than you realized. "Traffic, huh?" He hums.

"Mhm."

"Traffic's got you all messed up like that?" The man quizzes further.

Again, your body freezes. Your sights slowly rise back up and over to him, "Y-Yes Sir..."

He scoffs and you watch his hand raise. Toji beckons you over to him with two fingers. At first, you don't move. Then, after the slight stutter in your brain, you carefully walk over to him.

Toji's seated comfortably in his chair and peers up at you in front of him. He tilts his head to the side and nods his chin at your chest, "Need some help?" He offers.

You're not sure why his words make you shift around where you're standing. "U-Uh... yes." You murmur.

"Yes, what?" He taunts.

The words slip out of your mouth faster than you wanted them to, "Yes please."

Toji smirks and then sits up. It's so slow and teasing how his large hands rise up along your body, just barely grazing you before he reaches your chest. The man stares for a second and then flicks his gaze up to you.

You watch his fingers latch onto the buttons and he too struggles to fix your shirt properly. Something in your head tells you that he's struggling because of the angle he's at so, your body moves before you think about it.

You take another step forward and move so that one leg is planted in between his larger ones. The upper half of your body leans forward into the man's touch and you place a hand on the armrest of the chair to hold yourself up.

Then, to take it further, you lift the leg in between his and push your knee into the chair. You grow dangerously close to his crotch but you pretend not to notice it.

Toji bats his eyes at the sight of you over him. Your tits are practically in his face and he can smell the freshly sprayed perfume oozing off your body. The fingers he had on those buttons of yours slip off of you and he sits back in his chair.

You swallow, "S-Sorry is this..." You start moving back.

Toji licks his lips before saying, "Did I tell you to move?"

Your body halts all movement in an instant. He smirks at your sudden obedience. The man weighs his head to the side while looking up at you.

Those seemingly hazel eyes of his narrow at you, "Let's do somethin' a little different today." Toji suggests.

You remain over him, "Different l-like what?"

His legs spread further apart and you don't miss the way his hips roll upward as he adjusts himself in his chair. The sight alone makes the annoying throb in your core continue. Toji doesn't lay a finger on you just yet, simply gazing up at you.

"I want you to tell me about yourself today."

"H-Huh?"

"It's been four weeks and I've hardly learned anything about the woman interviewing me," Toji points out. He then tilts his head, "How's that fair?"

You blink dumbfoundedly, "Well... I didn't think it was uh, necessary for you to learn much about me."

"It's probably not but," A slow hand rises slightly and his fingertips graze the end of your skirt playfully. "I am curious."

"Why?" You ask, chuckling nervously.

His eyes drop down to where his hand is and you feel two of his fingers move to pinch the fabric of your skirt. "Every week you show up in a similar outfit and ask me all kinds of questions. And the one thing I've noticed is that somehow," Deep colored eyes snap back up to your face, "The questions always turn into something sexual."

"Well I've said it before Mr. Fushiguro, those questions-"

"Make your project better, yeah, yeah, I know." He cuts off. "But if that's the case, why don't you just find out the answer to some of those questions yourself?"

You swallow, "What do you mean...?"

"Last week you asked me about my kinks." Toji recalls casually, "Why don't I demonstrate one on you?"

Your whole body is hot and needy at the very idea of what he's suggesting. The look in your eyes is unavoidably lustful and the man could clearly see from the moment you'd walked in that you were unusually flustered.

"D-Demonstrate?" You repeat innocently.

"Yeah, how's that sound?" Toji asks, looking for your consent. "You can tell me no if I'm misinterpreting all those looks you've been giving me-"

"No, no," You cut off, "I wanna do it, sir."

Toji's cock twitches at the sultry sound of your voice and the words you just uttered.

That painfully attractive smirk of his appears, "Yeah?"

You nod your head, "Mhm."

Okay, this is not how you intended things to go today. It was supposed to be another day of you flirting and asking more suggestive questions but, this works out for you anyways. Not only are you shamefully wet because of the way Geto was moaning and praising you not too long ago but you also can't help but feel so very needy for the touch of Toji Fushiguro.

His hands are so large and veiny, you want them all over your body. You crave for this professor to manhandle you and fuck you til' you can't think straight.

"Alright then," Toji sighs, sitting back in his seat. His eyes then focus on your own with complete seriousness, "Sit."

You hesitate. Glancing around the area, you wonder if he was referring to a nearby seat or something.

Toji chuckles at the clear confusion in your eyes but then he bobs his leg one good time to gesture where he was talking about. "Right here, pretty girl." He directs.

You slowly look down at his large leg in between yours, "O-On your leg, Mr. Fushiguro?"

"My thigh. Sit." He orders.

Embarrassment was coursing through you. Surely if you sat on his thigh, he'd feel the mess you are in your underwear.

You swallow, "Why...?"

Toji snickers at your hesitance. "I wanna watch you get off on my thigh."

You think you feel your cunt throb as his words hit your ears. The thought alone is dizzying.

"So," He continues, moving a hand to your lower back and lightly tapping you. "Sit."

Finally, you do just as he's instructed. As you seat yourself on his thigh, you feel so jittery and nervous. You're soaked right now and you just know he can feel it.

When Toji sees you've made yourself comfortable, he moves his hand to your chin and grabs a light hold of it, "Good girl." He praises.

You think you had to bite back the moan that wanted to escape you in reaction to the praise alone.

The leg in between yours suddenly lifts into you slightly, making your lips part and a breathy noise leaves you. "Now," Toji takes his hand off you and stares at the full sight of your smaller body resting atop his thigh. "Go on, lemme watch you fuck yourself on me."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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sehya · 2 months

Text

✧˖°. ࣪𖤐 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

✉ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴀʏꜱ.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 × 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Loneliness has accompanied Lucifer for years. Year after another, his company was filled with inanimate objects with neither the ability to speak, move or feel. While he could manipulate the actions of the objects, it doesn’t change the fact that he has no real company to speak of.

So it felt strange when there was suddenly someone sitting on the same table set up for a tea party that he normally shares with just a group of rubber ducks.

The feeling was….phenomenal.

Lucifer doesn’t even know why you’re tolerating his ramblings. He wonders if it’s out of politeness, but he dismissed the idea halfway upon witnessing the way your eyes shine with interest, the way your eyebrows moved depending on what he’s talking about and the small smile hanging firmly on your delicate face. He has your full attention and for Lucifer, he feels happy being the sole focus of your attentiveness. Heck, he’d take your hums and nods over other people’s company.

“You know…” Lucifer smiled, cheek resting on his palm as he leaned against the table with eyes never leaving yours even for a second. “I have to thank you for helping me pack. It’d be a totally boring process without you.”

Your eyes softened, placing down the tea cup slowly before you reach out and held his hand, smiling. “Anything for you.”

Lucifer grin and giggled, completely enamoured with your kindness and understanding. It took so much from him to let go of his hesitations and apprehensions, too scared to enter yet another relationship after his heart suffered from the first. Now, however, he was glad he did.

You’re like the brightest of star that burned down his walls and willingly fell in his hands, melting his heart and mending it anew. Lucifer loves the fact that you don’t mind his too much chatter, and even more when you listened with such genuine interest.

“I mostly stayed here, so the things in my room isn’t as much as the things in here. I hope you don’t mind helping me out in unpacking, too. I mean…If that’s alright with you, ahaha. I don’t want to take up too much of your time just in case you have something to do.”

That's a lie.

If he could, Lucifer would like──no, he would love to have all the time you could possibly give him.

“Oh, right, before I forgot. Remember when you mentioned about the duckies that looks like us, wellllll…” Lucifer stood up, and without letting for of your hand, he summoned a box and placed it in front of you, opening it with an excited grin. “Ta-da!~ A personally made ones by the hands of the big boss of hell. Ah-hm, what do you think?”

Lucifer watched with a touch of nervousness despite the big grin on his face as your eyes widened, staring at the pair of rubber ducks that has obvious traits to you both.

Then he saw your face erupted in red. Your eyes were staring at his gift. “You…really made it?”

It was just a random comment.

Lucifer giggled, “I made it for you.”

“You made it for me.” You whispered, feeling extremely touched. “You mean…these are for me? I can keep them both?”

Lucifer saw your eyes brightened, picking up the rubber duck that looks like him with such gentleness, as though it’s made of porcelain that could easily break. His breath hitched when you turned to him, then back to the rubber duck, then back at him, then you smiled at him.

“Lucifer…”

“Yes?” he answered hoarsely upon noticing your eyes goes lower. He somehow has an inkling what you’re going say.

“Can I kiss you?”

Lucifer grinned, he was right. Licking his lips in anticipation, he answered. “I, yeah, of course. You always can.”

With a smile, Lucifer felt your gentle hand on his face as you stood up to capture his lips in a gentle kiss before pulling away, smiling softly as you ask. “They look amazing, our little figurines. I'd like to hear their little quirks, I'm sure you did something like that back-flipping one that spits fire. Can you tell me about it?”

Lucifer was put in a daydream by your kiss, but upon hearing your words, his eyes lit up as held the hand on his cheek, squeezing it a bit. “Oh boy, how’d you know I did a little something? You’re in for a lot of talking, because trust me, these two have lotsss of amazing little quirks. Be ready to waste your time on listening to my chitter-chatter.”

The rise in the corner of your lips was enough to tell Lucifer you don’t mind and that you’ll spent however much time needed just to listen to everything he wants to say, and that, for Lucifer, is something he would forever be thankful for.

✧˖°. ࣪𖤐 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫

✉ Hope you enjoyed ᥫ᭡

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar × reader #lucifer morningstar #fluff #xreader #hazbin lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer fluff

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koemiexists · 2 months

Note

Hey! Can I get dom!Lucifer x fem! Reader pretty pls? Like I love him being a sub, but I don't think there's enough smut of him being a dom 🙏🏽

Accidentally Taking Souls

summary: you accidentally sold your soul to lucifer, and he accidentally accepted it. it only happens every one in twelve million five hundred fifty seven thousand souls! which also means, you're the first. tags: PANIC ATTACK, comfort, biting, porn with plot basically, not very good friends, dom!lucifer, drunken confessions, but not DRUNKEN sex, choking (consensual), fingering, breeding kink, surprise at the end word count: 4k a/n: this was already sorta on my to-do list, a lucifer x reader shot, then alastor x reader x lucifer shot, but it also fit your ask so !! apologies for delays :) i'm getting to them (a bit slowly...)

Truthfully, you weren’t religious. Your mother had always been, however. She would drag you to church, and make you pray almost all the time. Once you moved out for college, you never looked back.

When she died, she left nothing to you, but a single slip of paper. ‘Don’t sin.’

You truly didn’t care at that point, you didn’t believe in everything she had spewed, and continued to warn you about, even in death.

She had always warned you about your friends, telling you that they were demons who had risen from Hell to make you sin. It was truly baffling for her to spout her nonsense, especially in front of your friends themselves.

And yet, those very same friends were on your living room floor, staring at you with various smiles of pure delight.

“You want me to do what?”

“It’s not a want, (Name)... It’s a dare.”

You groaned; you were tired of this. “Why are you daring me to sell my soul? To the devil?”

One of your friends just smirked. “He’s not real, right? You shouldn’t have a problem.”

Blinking, you just took a deep breath, and shrugged your shoulders. “You’re right.” You said simply, and sat down.

One of the girls had unfurled from her position on the floor, digging into her bag. “Here.” She started, beginning to take out various things. “I can help you!”

You furrowed your eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “I don’t just say ‘have my soul devil’?”

“Damn (Name), I didn’t expect you to be that dumb.” She joked, bringing a needle to your hand. “No, it doesn’t go like that. If the deal is accepted, you’ll be in Hell.... maybe. That’s what the occult book told me.” She shrugged, pricking your finger, and dropping blood messily. “I just have to draw some runes...”

After the entire ordeal was over, especially the disastrous game of truth and dare, you retired for the night, concluding that you didn’t want to be up any longer and overthink what just happened.

Your friends had cheerily bid you goodbye, and you had waved them away, telling the group you’ll talk to them in a few days.

The last thing you could remember was the pleasant feeling of your sheets, and the cool squishmallow in your arms.

You awoke slowly, you felt as if you were drifting away... and then you felt someone poke at you.

Dismissing it, you turned away, until it registered in your head. Someone poked you.

You lived alone.

Jolting up in your bed, you looked around. There was a man towering you, grinning sheepishly. You let out a yell, keeping your plushie close to you as you kicked off the sheets covering you, falling off the bed.

Except that didn’t make sense, because your bed was just a mattress on the floor! It was close to the ground, and yet you dropped a good few inches from the ground.

Fear was coursing through your veins, and you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, followed by a serene calmness- but your adrenaline was still pumping, and your inner voice was screaming at you to get up, run run run run run RUN!

You jolted, trying to maneuver yourself to get up and start running away except when you glanced down you started to scream because of your skin tone-- it was a weird hue, definitely not natural, definitely not yours.

“Hey! Calm down- girl- fuck- bitch, calm down!” You let out a hiccup as your eyes flickered from your hands to the man. He seemed to be fiddling with something, before dropping it and orienting you.

“Sorry,” He huffed, and you managed to get a good look at him. His skin was milky white, and he had platinum blonde hair that was swooped locks. You looked away again, and he gently put you back on the bed. “Don’t fall off again.”

You sniffled, nodding. “Shit.... I don’t even know how this happened. Usually this is when people sell their souls... but I never...” He paused his pacing and muttering, turning to you.

Your hair was obstructing your face as you stared down at your lap, but when he approached you, you instantly stared at him. “Did you sell your soul... to me?”

“You aren’t the Devil.” You said instantly, before clapping a hand over your mouth. “I-”

The man just laughed. “No, you can call me Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.” He smirked, his grin wide and toothy as he looked at you with lidded vermillion eyes. “The ruler of Hell.”

You stared, mouth ajar.

And then laughed, boisterous and teetering to purely unsettling.

Lucifer stared at you as you laughed, and laughed... and wait-! No, you were still laughing.

“What’s so funny?” He huffed, a hand on his hip as you still was chuckling, tears in your eyes.

“Okay, I’m having a crazy lucid dream!” You snorted, and searched for a clock, staring at it intensely.

Lucifer cocked his head. “What are you doing?”

“Weird.” You muttered, staring at the clock even more. Why weren't the hands going haywire? Why was it normal?

You turned your eyes to your hands, studying it. It was... fine. Nothing was abnormal besides the fact your skin was a different color. You felt yourself panicking again, and you closed your eyes, willing for something different to happen.

Your panic began to increase dramatically as you heaved, tearing up as you looked at the clock again. You tried to take in breaths, but it was hard to even register that your lungs were burning.

Hands were gripping your wrists. You felt sick. Your head was pounding, and you knew you had to be yelling, because your throat ached and was scratchy. You could barely see, but you kept thrashing.

After a while, you felt all your energy zapped from you, you just slumped, sniffling and trying to catch your breath. Blearily, you watched as a muddled version of Lucifer appeared in front of you, looking you over.

“Ok?” He whispered, and you blinked slowly, tilting your head at him slowly. “Is- Did you settle? Uhm. Are you a bit okay now?”

You shrugged, and he wiped your tears, gently gathering you in his arms. His limber figure made his way to what appeared to be a bathroom, and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge bathtub. On the sides were a bunch of rubber ducks.

Lucifer gave you a mischievous look as he placed you down after stripping you down to your underwear, running the water warm.

“I made them.” He said, placing only certain ones in the water. “Some of these definitely cannot go in.” He moved a light blue one off to the side. “It produces voltage,” Lucifer explained, getting some bubble bath soap, and pouring it over the running water. In an instant, bubbles began to form around you.

You gave him a look. Because, really? Voltage duck?

He pouts a little. “I just... I made them.... Why not? It’s entertaining!”

You don’t know how creating ducks can be entertaining.

Lucifer gave a huge dramatic sigh, pushing his hair back, and bemoaned your inability to see how delightful his ducks were.

“You’re weird,” You uttered, your voice extremely scratchy. Lucifer winced, and quickly whirled his hand, a water bottle appearing.

“Here,” He said, motioning the water. “It’s cold.” It was cold. “Icy too.” Okay... “Maybe even...” You looked at him, as the water in your mouth began to get colder. “Pure ice.” Your mouth was beginning to get cold, really quickly. “Haha- sorry, bad prank?” Would it even be classified as a prank? More of an inconvenience, especially with how parched you were.

You stared at him silently, drinking more of the cold water that he provided. “So... I’m dead?” You whispered, glancing down at the bubbly surface.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t expect to go to Hell so soon.” You muttered, looking around inconspicuously. It was very grand, fit for a king indeed.

Lucifer furrowed his brows, confused at your statement. “You knew you were going to Hell?”

You smiled gently. “Never listened to my mom. Super religious. Wasn’t my style.”

He hummed in response, and helped you finish cleaning up. You felt tired afterwards, and just wanted to sleep now that everything was done. Lucifer led you to a guest bedroom, sprucing up the surroundings a little. He gently tucked you in, and you gave a small noise of appreciation.

“I’ll show you around, later.”

You yawned, nodding.

“My daughter...” He had a daughter? “She has a hotel.”

“Mmm.”

Lucifer smiled at your sleepy sounds. “Supposed to redeem sinners.”

You turned over, groaning. “Go away... I don’t care...” You slurred, sleep clouding your head like a fog. “Ngh... wait.” You blinked rapidly, turning back to Lucifer. “What?”

He smirked. “Redemption of sinners?” He repeated, giving you a teasing look.

“Is it possible?!”

Lucifer inhaled. “I... don’t know. Maybe? I just like to support my daughter’s dreams.” He pauses. “Even if it’s a bit far-fetched, she believes in it.” Another huge pregnant pause. “If it does work, you won’t become a human, you’ll just be an angel.”

You turned away again. “Ugh.”

He snorted, and fixed your blankets. “Goodnight,” He crooned, placing a small rubber duck on your dresser. “You have to wake up really early tomorrow!”

He cackled when you just groaned.

After a few days of living like this, Lucifer deemed you ready to meet his daughter. When you inquired why before you couldn’t he just muttered about some sinner that would rip you to shreds. You didn’t really understand, but he seemed to hate that one sinner with a passion, so your questioning didn’t continue past that.

He led you to a huge building that had the words Hazbin Hotel in big letters at the top. You glanced at the infrastructure, cringing at some of the design choices. It was surely unique, although you knew it definitely needed some sprucing up.

“It’s pretty,” Was all that came out of your mouth. Lucifer gave you a half-hearted noise of acknowledgement, ringing the bell. You heard light footsteps, and as soon as the door began to open, Lucifer burst past it.

“CHARLIE!”

“Hi dad...”

You shifted from foot to foot, waiting for them to see you. “Oh!” There they go. “Sorry, sorry! Uh- how are you? What’s your name?” Charlie began to babble, leading you inside with gentle hands. “I’m Charlie!”

Lucifer was right by your side again, causing you to stumble. “(Name),” You offered weakly, gaining your balance again as Lucifer began to chuckle lowly next to you. “I...”

“She’s with me,” Lucifer said smoothly, smirking. “I have a favor to ask of you, Char-Char.”

Her attention was instantly on her father, head cocked to the side barely, questioning.

“She... accidentally sold her soul to me.” He started off slowly, and Charlie gave him a weird look.

“So? She shouldn’t be here unless you accept... Dad!” She yelled out at the end, and Lucifer winced. “How did you accidentally accept a soul??”

He groaned. “By accident, of course! Listen Charlie-”

“That poor girl-”

You looked back and forth tiredly, before clearing your throat. “What’s done is done,” You started, glaring at Lucifer lightly. “Besides, Luci has been helping me get accustomed to my new world. But we were hoping you knew how to redeem sinners so I can be redeemed.”

Charlie began to shift nervously. “Well- we don’t have a set method.”

You stared at her.

“We don’t have one sinner who’s been redeemed... yet.”

“Yet.” You parroted, giving her a blank look.

She bit her lip lightly. “Yes, yet. I’m sorry (Name), we are only just starting and I know being in Hell was a mistake.”

You felt numb, and can only barely register how Lucifer had lifted you up, pulling you away and whispering apologies against you. “Sorry,” He murmured, and you let out a soft sigh due to his hand on your scalp. “I’m so sorry, I thought she would have found a way already...”

“No need to apologize,” You huffed, blinking away unshed tears as he calmed you down. You still felt extremely upset, but it wasn’t truly anyone's fault.

Lucifer gave you an apologetic look still, before putting you down. You looked around, blinking. “Where are we?”

“Guest room,” Lucifer replied, fixing the sheets as you gained your bearings. The couch was ratty, with small tears on the cushions; the back of it was dingy, yet when you moved, it stayed steady despite the obvious damages.

You got up, and he motioned to the bed, smiling at you gently. “Want to sleep? It’s getting a bit late already.”

Confused, you gave him an inquiring look. He smiled sheepishly, motioning to the clock. “It’s the evening, I think your perception is a bit skewed...”

Right, your outburst. “Sorry,” You said, feeling guilty.

Lucifer just waved you off. “Do you want to sleep?” He asked, and you shook your head, looking at the door.

“Is there a place to get a drink?” You just wanted to get drunk, if you were being honest.

He hummed. “There’s a bartender, apparently.” He replied, taking your hand into his. “Steady,” He spoke lowly, as you stumbled a bit, letting him lead you down the hall.

You both made it to the bar, where you practically threw yourself at the stool, asking the bartender, apparently named Husk, to make you a strong drink.

He merely grunted in acknowledgment, turning away to start mixing it. Lucifer grinned toothily at you, before he turned around to go be with his daughter.

One drink turned into two, then into three, and before you knew it you were seven drinks in, and you were giggling with Angel, a patron at the hotel.

“You’re really,” You paused, hiccuping due to how fast you drank your last shot. “Really interesting, Angel.” Your words were slurred, and almost hard to decipher. Angel, however, understood you completely considering he was also tremendously drunk.

“Thank you, sweet thing.” He smirked, his gold tooth glittering in the light as he moved closer to you. He smelled like artificial fruits, and you wrinkled your nose in distaste, bile swirling right beneath your esophagus. “So, Short king is with ya?”

You nod, still fighting the urge to retch at the stench of his perfume. “Uhn, yeah, he is. I, uhm... made a deal with him, apparently,” You slurred, pausing almost every word you said. “Sorry, your perfume smells gross.”

Angel rolled his eyes, throwing two of his hands up. “Ugh! Val made me wear it for today’s shoot-”

“Why?” You nearly whined, scooting backwards as Angel began to spray a different perfume.

He sighed. “I work sex, babe.” When you cocked your head to the side, he began to rephrase his drunken words. “I’m a porn star.”

You flushed at that, and shrugged lightly. “Each to their own I guess...”

Humming, Angel brought another drink to his mouth, downing it in one go. “On the topic of sex,” He slurred, smirking as Lucifer slowly approached you two. “Who would you have sex with here? Based on appearance.” He hiccuped.

“Lucifer is super hot,” You giggled, biting your lip lightly as you stood up, swaying at your spot. “I wouldn’t mind having him fuck me, I need a good pound.” You dissolved into light giggles, finding the idea of fucking the ruler of Hell amusing, getting him worked up by a lowly sinner...

You yelped when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight. “Don’t squirm,” Lucifer said lightly, raising his hand to stroke your hair. “I’m taking you to bed. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not,”

A laugh came from in front of you, and you glared at Angel as he smiled even wider, smug. “Bye, (Name). Remember to not gag-!”

His voice was cut off as light swarmed your vision. You shut your eyes tight, feeling your stomach roll in pain as your surroundings became the guest room. “Hngh,” You whined, collapsing onto the bed. “Mm, Luci...”

Lucifer stroked your head as you chugged the water he gave, before he ushered you to bed to sleep the liquor off.

Your eyes were shut the instant he had dropped your head back on the pillow.

When you awoke, your head instantly began to pound, before tapering off to a light throbbing. You blinked, and turned to look to the side where the warmth was radiating. “Hi,” Lucifer smiled at you, his expression sleepy as his wings stretched from his back. “You’re awake.”

“And hungover,” You groaned, rubbing at your temples.

You screeched when your wrists were pinned above your head, and Lucifer was on top of you, straddling your hips. In this position, with you staring up at him, he truly did look angelic. His hair was messy, strewed in different directions. The glow from the light on a dresser behind him illuminated certain visible parts of him to you, and it just gave him such an ethereal glow.

You sucked a breath in as he shifted, his wings spreading out from his back, and you could almost imagine that golden halo on top of his head right now.

“Do you want this?” He uttered, voice deep with sleep and slightly gravelly. Arousal bloomed in your abdomen as you nodded quickly. “Words, ducky.”

“Yes.” You nearly whined, and he grinned, teeth all showing.

He practically pounced after that, ripping your bottoms off, and instantly his claws were at your underwear, shredding it with a flick of his wrist. Lucifer let out a growling noise as he leaned into you, thrusting a single finger into your awaiting cunt.

Slick was dripping down his hand after a few thrusts, messy and almost disgusting as wet slapping sounds quickly reverberated throughout the bedroom.

“Dripping, all for me?” He teased, beginning to lightly rub your clit with his thumb as he nipped at your neck and chest. “I just need to put my claim on you.”

You moaned, shaking at his ministrations. “Bite me,” You whispered softly before you broke on a high pitch whimper.

His teeth gleamed as he smirked at you, before surging forward to bite you right between your shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth digging deep into your skin before he pulled away.

You let out a sob at the pain, then a moan as he sped up with his fingers. “Sorry,” He said, guilt filling his voice slightly as he looked at you with lidded eyes. You weakly watch as he gently moves his other hand over the bleeding wound as the pain eased into slight numbing.

“I liked it,” You murmured, kissing him again, and biting his lip as you rolled your hips into his hand.

He let out an indistinguishable noise, before he thrusted his hand deep in you, watching as you came all over his hand, liquid shooting all over his arm.

“Good?” He asked, kissing you softly, before pulling away, licking at his fingers that were soaked in your release.

You nod, smiling as he beamed lightly at you. Moving slightly, you pulled your legs up, leaving your cunt more exposed for him. “Take me, Luci.” You had whined, cunt fluttering at the thought of his cock in you.

Lucifer flushed, his cheeks becoming a darker ruddy color, as he took off his pants. His thick cock slapped his thigh, and both of you giggled at the noise. “Sorry,” He laughed lightly, but you just shook your head smiling.

“It’s okay to be a bit silly, Luci.” You had said quietly, breath hitching as he entered you.

Lucifer sank deep into your cunt, inhaling sharply as you squeezed him. You had yet to indicate you wanted him to move, inhaling and exhaling lightly as you eased up around him.

You nodded, but he still hadn’t moved. His face was extremely red as he stayed still, his breath labored. You furrowed your eyebrows, moving slightly as your cunt squeezed then relaxed around him. “Luci, are you o-”

Before you could finish your sentence, he pulled almost fully out, his flushed tip just barely stretching your cunt. You looked up at him as he shoved his cock inside again, slamming into you. “Mm- Lucifer-” You tried to speak, but he just kissed you, your tongues entwining as small noises of pleasure emitted from you.

He pulled away, panting as his hair became more messed up from his movements. “Want me to stop?” He paused, to see what you needed.

You growled lightly, wrapping your legs around his waist and bucking your hips. He let out a small yelp, grasping your hips in a bruising manner. “Okay!” He kissed you, and slammed into you again. “Okay, you want me that badly huh? My pretty baby. All wet and slick for m-”

He paused as he was pulling out when you let out a whimper. “Daddy,” You had said quietly, nearly inaudibly.

“What?”

You flushed this time, looking off to the side as you worried your lip between your teeth. “Sorry, I...”

Lucifer gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and when you snapped your head to look at him, he smirked, gently squeezing, before his grip became lax again. When you nodded, indicating you were okay with it, he grinned.

“My girl, all wet for her daddy. Such a slut for me, aren’t you? When we fuck, ducky, you look at me. When I kiss you, you think about me. When I impregnate you, you look at me. Understood?”

You wailed in pleasure, cunt gripping his thick cock. “Yes daddy! I understand,” You blabbed, and you took a deep inhale right as Lucifer squeezed your neck.

“Do you even deserve to be fucked by me?” He asked, rubbing your clit lightly. As you began to teeter over the edge, he stopped all movements, looking at you. “I asked you a question.”

You heaved, gripping at his hand. “N-no,” You choked out, and he released his grip, kissing your neck. “Daddy,” You whimpered, watching as Lucifer pulled away to adjust your position. He had your lower half fully bent now, your knees nearly touching the bed as he grasped your waist, shoving his cock back inside you.

Screaming at the new found spot he hit, you began to earnestly moan, loud noises coming from your mouth as every thrust he made hit your sweet spot perfectly. “Ah- ah!” You bit your lip, causing it to bleed. Lucifer leaned in, sucking your lip into his mouth, before he caught your mouth in an open kiss, licking at your tongue.

“Good girl,” He purred, shoving his thick cock deeper and deeper inside you. “I’m going to make you into a mommy, do you want to be a mother? For me?” You felt your orgasm approach as you nodded, whimpering at the idea of your belly becoming swollen with a child.

He kissed you, and you bit his lip as you came, your legs shaking as you inhaled deeply, jerking at the aftershocks as Lucifer continued to thrust, pace off. Jackhammering into you for another moment, he stopped, his cock deep inside you as he groaned, cum coating your walls.

You felt gross, but he merely gently rubbed at the small bulging in your lower abdomen, sighing. “Good?” He inquired, kissing your cheek.

“Good,” You confirmed, beaming tiredly.

A month had passed, and you were chatting idly with Charlie.

“So,” You started, smiling lightly. “I have news.”

She grabbed your hands, eyes bright. “What is it? Oh! Did you find someone to stay at the hotel? Did you find some staff? Is there some news happening in Pentagram City? Wait! Let me guess, did a new restaurant open up-”

You laughed, calming her down as you smiled cheekily. “No, not any of that.” Pausing as Lucifer went up to sit by you. “Me and Luci,” You started, glancing at him. “Are expecting.”

Charlie froze. “Huh? Expecting what? A package?”

Lucifer grinned widely, as his daughter slowly began to understand. “You’re going to be a big sister, Char-Char!”

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smusherina · 1 month

Text

yard work - chapter 2 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 3

During the school day, she'd ignore you as usual. Wandering the halls of Northshore, you'd catch glimpses of her but no more than that. It actually felt like you were seeing less of her than usual. It was hard to avoid somebody in a school like Northshore, but somehow she managed it. You doubted it had anything to do with you specifically. She'd been acting off since you'd had dinner at the Georges'.

After school, those days you went to Regina's house to do their yard work, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Gretchen and Karen weren't around. Regina had taken her mom's place on the patio and bathed in the sun as you worked.

You hated to say it was distracting. Partly because the whole thing had thrown you off kilter, like why was she doing all this all of a sudden, and also because she was hot. There was no question about it. Regina George was hot.

You desperately tried maintaining focus on the chlorine you were pouring into the pool, pretending you weren't all too aware of Regina lying not too far away from you, in a skimpy hot pink bikini, large sunglasses covering her eyes.

"Regina! Oh, that's such a cute 'suit you got, where'd you get it?" You were distantly aware of Mrs George stepping through the sliding door to the backyard. Regina muttered something in return. You didn't have to look to see Mrs George wilt at her daughter's dismissal.

It pissed you off. Regina didn't have to entertain her mom's every whim, she could be a bit much, even you could admit that, but she didn't have to be so mean.

You walked over to them with the empty chlorine bag in hand. "Hey, Mrs George." You called as you approached. "Margaritas?"

"Hi, sweetie! I brought you two some, gotta stay hydrated in this hot weather. All virgin, of course!" Mrs George winked and offered up the tray she had in her hands. You smiled gratefully and took one of the glasses. You were actually quite thirsty and Regina's mom made the best (alcohol-free) cocktails.

"Thanks," You said before taking a sip. Mm, strawberry and basil. Yummy.

"Just leave it there, mom. She's gotta work and I'm busy." Regina pointed at the little table next to the sunbeds before directing her attention back to, uh, lying in the sun. She sure looked busy.

"Okay, honey." Mrs George smiled, but the chirp in her voice was strained. "You just call and I'll be right here, alright?" She looked from her daughter to you.

"You got it, Mrs George."

Once the older woman had ducked out of the door and closed it behind her, you turned to Regina.

"You don't need to be mean, y'know." You took a sip, watching the pink slush move through the swirly straw.

"Excuse me?" Regina craned her neck in your direction, looking very uncomfortable. You walked around to the sunbed next to hers and sat down facing her.

"She just brought us margaritas." You said, continuing to sip on your drink.

"Uh, yeah, and I'm busy." She huffed before reaching for her own drink. "Why she feels the need to bother me is beyond me."

"She's your mom and wanted to do something nice." You rolled your eyes, already sick of her attitude.

Regina didn't bother responding. You adjusted on the seat so you were sitting on it the right way, legs kicked up and leaned back. You decided to relax for a few minutes. It was still the beginning of the school year, September barely just started, so summer was still lingering warm in the air.

There was a robin's nest in one of the apple trees. Red-chested birds flew around, from their home branch to the bird pool, to somewhere you couldn't see and back. Soon it'd be apple picking season. For the last two years of high school Mrs George had given you maybe more than half the apples since she didn't know what to do with so much. Before that, it used to be you and Regina. Picking apples, sitting on the branches, peeling each and every one and boiling them into jam with obscene amounts of sugar. Looking back, you were pretty sure doing all those things without proper adult supervision was like tempting a tragic accident.

(To be fair, you had fallen out of those apple trees once before. You were maybe twelve and it was the middle of summer. You'd lost your balance and toppled onto your wrist. Regina had nearly fallen herself scrambling down to get you. She'd cried more than you and you were the one with a broken bone. She insisted you pick a pink cast. She was the first to sign it, too.)

Out in the sun, it was much hotter than under the partial shade in the yard. You chugged the rest of your drink before standing back up. You pulled off your shirt as you walked to the patio stairs, leaving on just a sports bra and your shorts.

"Jean shorts are so lame," Regina said behind you. You turned to look at her and found her looking at you from over her sunglasses. Her eyes raked over your body, no doubt judging how much weight you'd gained since she last saw you without clothes.

Fuck. Not like that. That sounded wrong. You had spent a lot of time at her pool, both of you in swimsuits, as kids. A totally normal, non-sexual setting.

You shrugged, pretending her wandering eye did not make you insecure. "I like my jorts."

"Your taste is questionable." Regina scoffed, a little smile playing on her lips. "At best." She added sassily. You had a feeling she was mocking you.

"Thanks!" You struck a little pose, cocking your hip and blowing a kiss her way, responding in an equally snarky manner. You knew you didn't stand up to her fashion standards. Loose jean shorts down to a little above your knees, basic brown slides, and now sans a raggedy, well-loved Queen tee was not exactly high couture.

"You're not cute, jorts." She leaned up on her elbows and pushed the shades up to her hair. "I think I saw this exact outfit on you, like, three years ago." She pretended to think, finger on her chin. "So, when we were thirteen..."

"Yeah, you probably did." You chuckled. "You also called me jorts three years ago. So, clearly, nothing's changed, right?"

You both damn well knew a lot had changed. Still, she entertained you with a seemingly genuine smile. You smiled back before turning away to retrieve some tools from the shed. There was a gap in the fence that needed fixing.

Then, for the following week and then some, as if the past years of her ignoring you hadn't happened at all, she started speaking to you. Not at school, though, never in public. Only Kylie and Mrs George were privy to your rekindled friendship. You weren't sure if you could even call it that. Was it friendship if it was conditional to time and place?

You couldn't find it in yourself to care too much, though. You had your own crowd at school. You had things other than the Georges' yard work to do. Sometimes you went skating with the guys, picked up shifts at the shop, did chores and yard work at home, played video games, and on rare occasions studied. You had a life outside of Regina George.

So what if when you fucked up a trick and looked around all frantic, checking that Regina hadn't suddenly spawned at the skate park and seen your epic fall. So what if you spent your work hours thinking about her, counting down the minutes until you got to clean the Georges' pool again. So fucking what you wanted to beat the shit out of Regina in Mortal Kombat.

Maybe you did care. You wanted to spend more time with her. Was that a crime? If you could talk during the several hours of the day, five days a week, that the two of you went to the same school, then that want would've abated. But you had to wait. Sometimes there were several days in a row that you barely got a glimpse of her.

You sounded pathetic. Gosh. You hadn't realized how much you missed her until you got a taste of what it was like to have her back. You couldn't even remember what had caused her sudden avoidance back then. Something with Janice and a sleepover. The details had gone blurry since then. You hadn't even been at the sleepover, but you'd heard something bad had gone down. Something that caused Janis 'Imi'ike to switch schools for the remainder of middle school.

Sighing, you let your pencil fall from your hand. You fucking hated algebra. Functional math, business math, that you could deal with, but derivatives and parables and all that stuff? No. Just no.

You rolled your chair back from your desk and decided it was high time for some relaxation. You walked across the hallway to the computer room, planning on fucking around on RuneScape.

Before you could get into gaming, though, you checked AIM and noticed you had a message. From Regina. What? You click the chat open and see that it's been sent a pretty long while ago.

> can i come over? daddys home

You stared at the uncharacteristic message. You two never spent time at your house back then. It was always empty and you didn't have the same fun things Regina did. Mrs George had been a significantly better cook, to add. Your toaster oven tater tots and dino nuggies couldn't compare.

But, hey, maybe this was the start of something new.

> sure > when? whenevr is fine w me

That could've all been one message but, well, here you were. You jumped in your seat when she responded almost immediately.

> omw

Shit. You shot up from the desk chair, sending it rolling to the other side of the room. You shut down the behemoth of a machine as fast as you could, which wasn't very fast, and shot down the stairs. The living room was a mess 'cause you'd spent the last few days pigging out in front of the TV, playing videogames and eating exclusively takeout.

You spent some time in the pantry trying to look for a garbage bag, time was running out, before rushing to the crime scene that was the couch. Styrofoam containers, probably some cutlery, empty bags of Cheetos and whatnot, empty cans, all that flew into the bag. You wouldn't have time to vacuum, so you just brushed the crumbs away into the couch cushions or onto the floor.

You were almost done when the doorbell rang. You had collected all the trash, but you still had to put away some of the still good leftovers. Didn't wanna waste those since you could eat it later.

"Hi!" You exclaimed, a little too riled up to seem sensible at the door. "I was just cleaning up."

"I see that." Regina drawled, eyeing the garbage bag as well as you. You'd completely forgotten about how you looked.

"Shit, sorry," You looked down at your body and the unfortunate clothes draped over it. Blue briefs with little Spidermen printed on them and a ratty grey hoodie with a devastating stain right on your chest. Your hair probably looked just as bad. You hadn't been bothered to fix up your bedhead, it was a goddamn Sunday.

"Don't worry about me." Regina, with her hands at her hips, looked at you expectantly. "So..."

"Yeah, uh, just stay here," You turned and put your sandals on. "I'll put this to the trash and, I still gotta put some things away and then you can come inside."

Regina just stared at you. You pursed your lips together and hustled past her, down the porch steps and toward the trash cans. By the time you'd hauled the bag away, you could no longer see Regina on the porch.

"Regina! I said don't go in!" You ran after her.

"Don't be ridiculous, jorts, I'm not afraid of a mess. Gosh." You could hear her from inside, probably taking her shoes off. That'd been a thing at your house always, but you didn't expect her to remember.

"Fucking- fine, okay, just..." You huffed as you spied her saunter into your living room as if she owned the place. She slumped down onto the couch, the very same you'd slept on the previous night.

You collected the food from the coffee table and moved it to the kitchen. You gave tentative sniffs to glean if they'd gone bad already. They'd only been out in the open for like, less than a day. So it was probably fine.

"When'd you order that?" Regina's voice came from behind you unexpectedly. You turned to her, caught with your nose in some noodles.

"Uh, last night..." You wiped at your nose with your sleeve.

She walked up to the container, right up in your space, and also gave it a sniff. Then she shrugged.

"I was thinking the same," You poured the noodles into Tupperware and shoved it into the fridge.

"Why's your fridge so empty? Has your dad gone bankrupt?" Regina stepped in before you could fully close the door.

"No, Reggie, he's fine. I don't have the money to stock up like your mom."

Regina turned to look at you, a displeased pout on her lips. She'd always hated it when you called her that. "I fucking hate that stupid nickname. And what do you mean you don't have the money?"

"I mean I don't have the money?" You paused in pouring beef and broccoli into another container, turning to look at her.

"Doesn't he send you money or make someone do it for you when he's away?"

You smiled a little bitterly. "He hasn't done that since I was, like, twelve." You paused. "Well, he's always sent me money but he used to have my babysitter buy groceries when I was way young."

Regina's lips twisted like she was genuinely thinking. You continued, feeling weird now that such a weirdly vulnerable conversation had been opened: "He sends me an allowance every week for groceries and school lunch, but it's not that much. If I didn't work at yours or at the shop I'd be toast." You grinned as you put on the last lid, moving to put the last two containers into the fridge too.

Regina didn't look all that amused. She was still frowning at your fridge, the rather pathetic state of it. You could admit it was pretty bleak. Two-litre bottles of various sodas, microwave meals, and an astonishing amount of condiments were not a sight that sparked hope.

"That's weird," Regina commented. "It's like you're poor but with a nice house."

"Gee, thanks so much, Reg, that makes me feel so good and seen." You drolled. "Oh, you think I have a nice house? That's nice."

"It's alright, I guess. Mine's better." Back to her usual, unthinking and overall not-that-nice persona. This was familiar territory.

"I would know. I work there." You motioned for her to follow you to the couch. "I'm gonna pick your apples soon."

"Daddy's home now. I don't know if you can." Regina sat with her shins tucked under her, leaning her side against the back of the couch. You sat a comfortable distance away, facing her with your legs crossed.

"What did your dad do again?" You asked, trying to remember.

"I don't fucking know." She gestured with her hand. "Human trafficking?"

"I hear it's a lucrative business." You grinned, enjoying talking like this with your old friend.

"We should start a company. Who'd you think would have a good price at our school?" She looked so excited at the prospect of talking shit about your peers. It was a little adorable, but in the way that a man-eating beast was. Like a devil cougar or something like that.

"I think that's eugenics, Reg." You muttered, jokingly wincing. "That's problematic."

"What, are you gonna sue me?" She leaned forward, inclining her head cheekily. "With what money?"

"With daddy's money, you fuck!" You laughed. "What money are you gonna sue me with? Wait, let me guess, uhh... Daddy's money."

"I'll have you know, it might be mommy's money." She widened her eyes dramatically as she began to tell the story. "I did some snooping around, and it just so happens daddy might not be the breadwinner after all, because-"

As Regina got into telling you about Mrs George's strange investments, which she and Kylie both had been pretty sure were pyramid schemes, you listened keenly and watched as she spun the story. She'd always been a good storyteller, good with performing and making the room pay attention to her. It was a shame she'd started to use her powers for evil.

Sitting here, Regina George on your dirty couch in her designer clothes and all, listening as she told you about the most mundane things in her life, made you feel warm in a way you hadn't in a long time. Loneliness was a quiet thing. It snuck up on you and you hadn't even noticed.

You hoped she wouldn't duck out of your life again.

Notes: Written late at night. My eyes don't work like they used to before. Might've missed some spelling errors or weird grammar. I'll return to it after I've slept. Also, in case you haven't noticed, this is firmly set in 2004. This story takes elements from both films, 2004 and 2024, but time-wise it is 2004. Another thing, I changed up the chapter titles. Originally, the first part was the prologue but then I thought about it and it really isn't like a prologue. So, that was chapter 1 and this is chapter 2. Bye-bye, party people.

Taglist: One person asked for this lmao, but I am but a servant of the people. Comment on this post if you wanna be tagged on the next part when it comes out. Disclaimer! Chapters will not usually come out this fast.

@autorasexy

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls 2004 #mean girls fanfic #mean girls x reader #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #reader insert #no use of y/n #regina george #lesbian regina george #fic: yard work

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