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#so you should at least warn people first before making one
f1goat · 1 day
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more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven
“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up. 
Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you. 
Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up. 
“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further. 
“What happened?” Oscar asks. 
“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs. 
+++
“Lan?” “Yeah?”
“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different. 
Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first. 
“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”
“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions. 
“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning? 
“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you? 
“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”
Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him. 
“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you. 
You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.
“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway. 
“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.” 
“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks. 
“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”
Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily. 
“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”
With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone. 
He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right. 
+++
“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”
“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”
Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him. 
“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.” 
“But.”
“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.” 
Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this. 
“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.” 
He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself? 
Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him. 
“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.” 
“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.
“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.
When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him. 
You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t. 
“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.” 
“Why?” You ask him. 
“Because we’re going to talk.”
“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”
“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”
You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.
The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore. 
The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess. 
It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you. 
“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore. 
He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string. 
Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage. 
“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you. 
“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.
“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. 
“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.
“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?” 
“Yes,” you agree with him.
“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.
“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”
Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out. 
“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says. 
“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando. 
“You,” Lando chuckles. 
You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him. 
“Lan,” you softly speak up. 
“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”
“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?
“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you. 
“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”
You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.
After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…
“You want that?” Lando asks you confused. 
You only show him a small nod. 
“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?” 
“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”
“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”
“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando. 
“Hope?” He asks confused.
“Hope that you like me back.”
Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm. 
“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?” 
Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can. 
When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back? 
You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.” 
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression. 
“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states. 
“Okay boyfriend,” you reply. 
“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again. 
+++
The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you. 
“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him. 
You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.
Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you. 
“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”
“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said. 
“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.” 
Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”
Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.
“Okay.”
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a/n;
that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story
i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs
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canthelpit0 · 2 days
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Innocent
Pairing: NotInnocent!Matt x Reader
Wordcount: 2.7k +
Summary: Matt was always seen as the innocent triplet. But being quiet doesn’t always mean being innocent. And Matt certainly is not.
Warnings: Smut, fwb, use of y/n, language, semi public (school bathroom), oral m!Receiving, fingering, teasing, edging, pet names, degration & praise, short
(A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. hope you guys like this.)
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You’d been teasing Matt all day.
You were friends with benefits, sorta. Well you only hooked up a few times before.
Matt was always the quiet triplet. He was always more shy and reserved, more introverted than his extroverted brothers.
But being an introvert didn’t necessarily mean he was innocent.
But most people confused it as such.
You were in history class. You had group tables of four.
You sat next to Matt, Nick and Chris in front of you guys.
You’d known the triplets ever since freshmen year, and you quickly became close to them.
The group table was all the way in the back.
And when you had gotten bored with history, you drowned out the teachers voice, opting to focus on something else.
You sneaked your hand on Matt’s thigh. He didn’t react at first. Since your love language is touch, he just assumed this was innocent touch.
He quickly realized it wasn’t tho, when your hand started to trail up to his crotch.
“Y/n” he scolds under his breath.
He was giving you a warning glare.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, your words menacing to their core. Nick and Chris’ eyes trail to you two as they also wait to hear Matt’s answer like the noisy fucks they are.
Matt glances at his brothers then Back at the table. “Nothing.”
He says under his breath. He doesn’t see your victorious grin, but he knows it’s there.
Chris and Nick avert their eyes again. Not bothering to think much of it. After all, what bad thing could Matt, out of all people, be doing?
Your hand trails further up his leg, finally meeting his clothed crotch.
He lets out an irritated sigh.
You start to gently palm him through his jeans, your eyes staying locked on the teacher at the front.
nothing about the way you were sitting was suspicious. Nobody was bothering to pay you guys any mind.
You were facing the teacher, all the way at the back of the classroom, your table was positioned in a way where people couldn’t see a thing, and Nick and Chris were shielding you.
You feel Matt become harder under your hand. You hear the way his breathing gets shakier and he closes his eyes a few times trying to keep himself together.
From the way it feels you know he should be at least half-hard by now.
He huffs trying not to groan at the slight stimulation. He grabs your wrist making you stop your movements.
Matt wasn’t going to let you finish him off into his boxers. And especially not in front of his brothers, let alone a whole classroom of people.
Your eyes meet his again, questioning why he stopped you.
To you this was all just fun and games.
He squeezes your wrist warningly.
You were being a brat, and he’d be dammed if he didn’t do anything about it.
Even if Matt seemed innocent because of how introverted and quiet he was, that did not mean that he actually was.
You know from first hand experience that Matt has a good dick, and he knows how to use it.
That one time you were a brat to him, he had made you cock warm him for what felt like hours while he kept doing his homework. And then afterwards he railed you until you were a crying, overstimulated, mess.
You don’t stop though. You start to rub his thigh right under his crotch.
He lets out a frustrated sigh, but eventually finally takes his hand off of your wrist.
You were in school, what was the worst he could do, really?
Fuck you in a locker room or something?
★ ★ ★
After class was finally over, Matt excused you and him from his brothers.
While you two walked he kept you in front of him to hide his bulge.
You got all the way to the highest floor where barely anyone was. After all it was lunch break now and everyone was all the way downstairs in the cafeteria.
He guides you into the men’s bathroom after checking if it’s empty.
All bathrooms in school had multiple stalls in them. Except the ones on the highest floor. It was just two rooms, one for the girls and one for guys, with only one bathroom.
So you stepped in and Matt locked the door behind you.
He closed the toilet seat not even bothering to do anything else before he was unbuckling his belt.
“Knees.” He demands. He was standing in front of the wall. You walk over to him and kneel in front of him.
You look up at him through doe eyes.
You look so innocent like you’ve done nothing wrong. And all he wants to do was fuck that expression off of your face
He finally undoes his jeans and slides them down along with his boxers.
His hard dick springs up eagerly. No need for foreplay, after all you teased him enough already.
You glance down at his length before your eyes meet his again. You try not to look too amused and pleased at the sight but he knows you are.
“Go on y/n, solve the problem you created.”
He huffs still staring down at you, his expression stony.
He was getting pissed off the more he had to wait, he just wanted his dick sucked.
You chuckle. Your manicured hand wraps around his cock, but you don’t do anything yet. Just admiring your nails and the way your hand looks around him.
“Don’t my nails look good? I just got them yesterday.” You say trying to hold back a laugh at his irritated scoff.
He grabs your wrist getting your hand off of him.
“Hands on your knees.” He says dimly and you do as he says.
He gently slaps your face. Enough for it to sting, but not hurt. “Open your mouth.”
You do as he says. And before you realize it, he’s standing up straight again, sliding his dick into your mouth.
He starts to gently thrust into your mouth. You keep your hands on your knees. Every time he retracts you suck and swirl around his dick. Matt thrusts in you hollow out your cheeks just letting him face fuck you.
Matt puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He was gently pulling on your hair to hold you in place while he thrusted into your mouth.
Your hands go to his hips as he starts to become rougher. You try hard not to gag too much, tapping his thigh to tell him to stop.
He roughly pulls out of your mouth. You keep your mouth open, sucking in a harsh breath. You close your eyes for a second.
“Christ, chill out, we got the entire lunch break.” You scoff your breath still ragged. You close your mouth pursing your lips as your eyes finally meet his again.
“Oh we do pretty girl.” He huffs. His one hand stays tangled in your hair holding your head up. The back of his other hand going to gently rub over your jaw.
“But you just had to be a slut and tease me.” He huffs, the words coming out in a harsh whisper.
He holds his length with his other hand sliding his tip over your lips. You keep your mouth shut though, not budging.
That is until Matt huffs. He grabs your cheeks squeezing them together making your mouth open slightly.
He slips just the very tip of his length between your lips.
“Come on sweetheart, open up.” He demands and you finally comply.
He pulls on your hair again to keep you in place. Matt starts to thrust into your mouth again, feeling the way you lick around him.
Your muffled moans were sending pleasure through his body, and he was holding back from groaning at the sight.
You, his best friend. His brothers best friend. On your knees for him, your plump lips wrapped around his cock. Choking on it.
“So pretty” he says under his breath before starting to thrust again.
He keeps thrusting in and out of your mouth at a fast pace. Occasionally slipping out fully to let your breathe for a second before going right back.
You were deepthroating him, letting him fuck your throat. You try not to let tears well up in your eyes at the constant hit to the back of your throat.
You listen to him praise and degrade you. While also telling you to not cry, as to not ruin your ‘perfect make up’.
After a while his thrusts get more erratic and uncontrolled. Until you suddenly feel it hit the back of your throat again, this time he stops moving though, the spurts of his release shooting down your throat.
You choke on it slightly, breathing in harshly through your nose.
He soon pulls out with a pop, watching the way your lips look all plump and swollen.
You swallow, some of his release running down your chin.
Matt lets go of your hair, his hands going and grabbing your cheek. He swipes the cum from your chin, pushing his thumb between your lips.
You suck on his finger, swirling your tongue and licking his release off of it like you had done to his cock previously.
“Good girl” Matt whispers. He pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a pop.
You groan under your breath licking your teeth while you keep your mouth closed.
He leans over picking up some paper towels and cleaning himself up, before he pulls his boxers and pants back up. He buckles his belt, while you don’t bother moving.
“Get up.” He demands.
You do as he says standing up on shaky feet. Your legs felt sore from kneeling on the ground.
Matt grabs your arm pulling you to the mirror. You lean against the sink to steady yourself, your ass out for him.
You knew he wasn’t going to fuck you, he’d already pulled his pants back up, but you wanted something.
You whine lowly closing your eyes briefly.
He scoffs a laugh watching how needy you are. He leans over your back, his arms going around you to undo your jeans before he swiftly slides them down.
Your jeans pool at your feet, your pantie covered self on display for him.
You normally wouldn’t wear a thong, but with these tight flare jeans, your ass just looked better in a thong.
“Wearing thongs to school now?” He questions. Matts hand starts to kneed your ass gently, pulling your cheeks apart and watching the way they move back when he lets go.
“Fucking slut” he huffs under his breath.
He squeezes your ass harshly making you hiss at the pain of his hard grip.
His hand trails from your ass to trail over your thong, teasing your covered hole.
You moan under your breath.
To with Matt just puts his other hand over your mouth and pulls your head back slightly.
“Stay quiet y/n/n. You wouldn’t want anyone to hear.” He says leaning over your back and whispering in your ear menacingly.
You stare at him through the mirror, feeling a bit of drool run down your chin.
He grins, a Cheshire like grin. His eyes droopy and sharp.
Your eyes were half lidded, your hair slightly messed up. Your mascara slightly smudged. Your eyes looked lust filled, you felt so overwhelmed by him giving you just the slightest bit of pleasure.
“Pretty girl.” He mumbles leaving a short kiss on your neck. His hand stays firmly on your mouth, his other hand still teasing you.
Until he finally pushes your panties aside and harshly pushes his middle finger in.
You moan at the sudden movement. Your moan gets muffled by his hand, sounding more like a whine.
“Sh.”
He starts to thrust his finger in and out of your tight hole. You were practically aching around him, begging him for more.
“Be quiet baby.”
You let out a shaky sigh at the words trying to keep your whines at a minimum.
Before you notice it he’s slipped his ring finger in too. You don’t realize he had, until he starts to scissor his fingers apart to stretch you even more.
You let out a harsh whine at the way he finger fucks you like that.
Out of instinct you try to let your head fall forward, but since he still has his hand clasped over your mouth that doesn’t work.
You whimper into his hand your eyes closing tightly.
“Keep. Your. Eyes. On. Me.” He emphasizes every word, thrusting his fingers in harshly after every word.
You groan against his hand trying to mumble an agreement. Until Matt makes you shut up. Once again reminding you that you’re in the school bathroom. Your eyes roll back in your head as you try to keep your focus on Matt.
“Shut.”
“Mhm.” You mumble into his hand. your eyes stay on his pale blue ones. He licks his lips and you watch him through the mirror.
You feel the knot in your stomach get even tighter threatening to snap at any time.
You breathe out shakily.
And it seems Matt notices too by the way you clench around his digits.
Suddenly he pulls his fingers out, and takes his hand from your mouth. He takes a full step back, biting back a smirk.
You borderline collapse against the sink, relying on your arms to halfheartedly hold you up. Your lower stomach pressed into the sink.
You breathe harshly. Your eyes closed, feeling yourself ache at the sudden loss of his finger in your cunt.
“Matt.” You groan in annoyance finally picking your head up to look at him through the mirror.
He actually snickers at the sight.
“Clean up.” He shrugs, leaning back and crossing his arms.
You lick your lips. You want to snap at him, but you actually knew he would do this. After all, you had teased him before knowing, he couldn’t do anything about it.
You take in a harsh breath your eyes meeting your own through the mirror. You lean back, standing up more straight feeling your legs shake slightly.
You huff at the sight. Your mascara only slightly smudged since you’re wearing a waterproof one.
Your lips are plump and swollen, a bit of drool running down your chin.
Your eyes are heavy and glassy. You just felt so sexually frustrated.
You lick your semi dry lips and then look back at Matt through the mirror.
“Go on y/n. Either you get yourself off or you clean up.” He shrugs nonchalantly.
Realistically you know that if you were to get yourself off, that Matt would get hard again by just watching you.
But you also knew that you didn’t have enough time to have a whole session right now.
You keep your eyes locked on Matt while you pull your thong back into place and pick up your jeans.
You watch as he can’t hold back his smile anymore, breaking out in a huge grin, closing his eyes briefly and shaking his head slightly in amusement.
He knew you were not satisfied. But he also knew he could’ve finished you off.
You pout dramatically, while you button your jeans again and pull up the zipper.
He chuckles lowly coming up behind you. His arm wraps around your waist. You watch through the mirror as he leans into you kissing your neck and holding you close to himself.
“Sorry, sweet girl.” He says sounding not so sorry.
“I’ll fuck you later. Now wipe that frown off of your face.” He chuckles. And his low laugh makes you smile slightly.
★ ★ ★
You two make it to the cafeteria for the last few minutes of lunch.
When Nick asks where you guys have been, Matt lies fast, saying that you two were in the library.
And everyone believes it.
It wasn’t that Matt was extraordinarily good at lying. He just pretends that he actually had. He wasn’t sweating or nervous or anything. He simply said it like it’s a fact.
And considering most people think that being innocent and introverted are the same thing, nobody questioned it.
Because Matt couldn’t have just gotten sucked off by his girl best friend in the school bathrooms.
After all he is way too innocent for that.
So nobody even bothers to question his reasoning.
Yet you would know better. You know how Matt is far away from innocent though.
You know first hand.
Masterlist
A/N: tbh i feel like most people always mistake being introverted as being innocent, so that's where the idea for this came from. Also, I’m so sorry if I couldn’t tag you I tried 😭
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss
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bookyeom · 1 day
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campfire - bsk
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pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 1.7k warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning request prompt: "What are we to each other?"
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A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
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"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."
Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway? 
Yours. Right. It was your idea. 
You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.
The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped. 
Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern. 
"Did that hurt?" 
You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment. 
You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.
“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”
He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”
Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”
“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”
That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”
You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”
“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”
You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”
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You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence. 
A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.
“How’s the ankle?”
“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?
The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.
“I’ll help them.”
You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours. 
“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”
“Seungkwan…” 
He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire. 
“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.
Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.” 
“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t. 
Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”
You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”
Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”
You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”
He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”
“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”
Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”
“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?” 
You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”
His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?” 
Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“
“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.” 
Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”
“Oh my god,” you say after a moment. 
You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.
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“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”
Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”
“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”
Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.
“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face. 
“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”
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@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo
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mrowlai · 2 days
Text
sick day
character(s): wanderer/scaramouche, wriothesley, childe/tartaglia
summary: you’re sick and they take care of you (can be read as platonic or romantic, possibly ooc wriothesley)
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Wanderer/Scaramouche “I really cannot be sick right now, I have things to do the next few days and my entire body hurts,” you groaned.
“Stop complaining.” Wanderer rested a warm towel on your forehead. “Or it’ll just get worse.”
You had fallen ill after a bad rainstorm caught you defenseless while running errands in the forests of Sumeru. Chilled to the bone, you had returned home and fell asleep, forgetting all about how Wanderer was set to come over that afternoon.
Thankfully, his tsundere act didn’t prevent him from helping you out with your cold.
You let out a violent sneeze that tossed the compress back towards him. “Sorry,” you grumbled, turning towards him.
“Use a tissue next time, ew,” were the kind words that came out of his mouth. “Or at least warn me.”
“It’s not like I can predict some of these things, and you don’t have to be an ass about it.”
“I also don’t have to help you, but here I am,” he huffed, moving to place the towel on your head again. “I’ll go grab a bucket soon, just in case you throw up.”
“I doubt I’m that sick,” you said.
“Good, because that’s the last thing I want to clean up.”
“Just shut it and let me rest.” You closed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Surprisingly, he followed your request and let you doze off, staying by your side the whole time.
Wriothesley You made your way up to his office in the fortress, sniffling and coughing the whole time.
“Wrio, I think I’m sick.”
“I’d say that’s accurate. So why are you here and not resting?”
“I wanted to see you. Plus it’s a just a cold, I’ll live.”
Wriothesley chuckled. “You really should be in bed at the infirmary if you’re sick. At least while you’re here, have some tea with honey for me.” He pulled a chair over opposite his desk and motioned for you to sit down while he prepared the tea. He, of course, made himself a cup as well.
“Thank you,” you said hoarsely before you blew on the steaming liquid. Once you felt it was cool enough to drink you took a small sip. Instantly you felt your throat soothed as the sweet honey made its way down.
“Has anyone checked your temperature? Sigewinne?” Wriothesley took a sip of his own tea.
“No, not yet. I felt like complaining to you first.” You smiled.
He let out another laugh. “That’s very kind of you, but we really should get you to the infirmary to make sure it’s nothing major.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s just a head cold, though,” you said. “It’ll probably be gone in a couple of days.”
“How about we finish this tea and head down. If you’re right I’ll let it go, but if you’re wrong you have to rest on the doctors orders.”
“Deal.” You smiled behind your cup.
Childe/Tartaglia "You're sick."
"No I'm not."
Childe slowly put a hand to your forehead and hummed. "You have a fever. Did you dress warmly like I told you to?"
You looked to the ground as your cheeks grew hot with shame. "N-no."
He had taken you on a trip from Liyue to Snezhnaya after you expressed interest in experiencing the culture there. Despite given his clear warnings of the cold, you had only packed a thick jacket and crocheted scarf to keep you warm.
Upon seeing you, Childe let you borrow his fluffy hooded coat and handed you a spare pair of mittens he kept on him. They were a little small since he carried them around to help out his siblings, but you were grateful nonetheless.
Soon enough, he had you in his spare bedroom surrounded by blankets. A bowl of chicken broth with noodles sat on the nightstand next to you. You assumed he had a lot of experience taking care of sick people due to how big his family was. That many kids in one household was bound to spread the flu like wildfire if one caught it.
"After you eat, I need you to get some rest, okay?" Childe said it as more of a light demand than a suggestion. "Tourism can wait, and in the meantime I'll see if I can find some warmer clothes for you to wear in the meantime. What was your favorite color again?"
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a/n: this turned out a bit longer than i had planned but i hope you enjoyed it! if you’re sick while reading this i hope you feel better soon.
© mrowlai
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scekrex · 2 days
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tw (depression)
hello would you be interested in writing about sinner!Adam becoming best friend with a touch averse kind of depressed male sinner!reader who works at the hazbin hotel (and is secretly touch starved) and then starting to have a crush on him cause he’s the only one who doesn’t want to kill him on sight and he’s able to babysit him and care for him without asking for anything in return. Maybe the friendship process and how Adam tries to flirt with him? Sorry for the wall of text and thanks
Okay so reader being touch starved is only heavily implied by Adam constantly touching him, hope that works! Also never apologize for being specific when it comes to requests - the longer the better <3 also his flirting is low-key awkward bc I headcanon Adam to not do well with rejection - especially when he's seriously interested in someone.
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, mentions & symptoms of depression
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
Adam hated everything down there in hell, from the hotel, over its residents all the way to Lucifer. He deeply hated every single sinner in this shithole and his heart longed for the safe walls of heaven that protected him from the filth. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even able to fully relax when he spent his days at the hotel, how could he when everyone wanted him dead - even Charlie, not that she’d ever admit let alone act on it.
But then there was you, a random guy Adam had never noticed before. He had not seen you during the battle, or maybe he had seen you and had just been too busy to focus on a sinner as unimportant as you. But now that he called the hotel his home, he was quite grateful for your company. Because while hell itself sucked and caused waves of tiredness and sadness to wash over him every now and then, you were the one that could get rid of those gray rain clouds for him. You weren’t a sunshine like Charlie, the exact opposite was the case. You had your fair share of problems to deal with, one of said problems was the fact that you suffered from depression - not that this illness would make you special or whatever, many people in hell suffered from it. Hell and depression sort of came in a package deal. Yet Adam made it a little easier to deal with - a thing you had never ever imagined you’d admit to.
A nice thing that came hand in hand with the friendship that grew between you and Adam was how touchy the first man was, he somehow had his hands on you constantly. When he’d walk past you he’d ruffle your hair, when you were sitting on the couch he would sit down next to you only to pull you in his lap and play with your hair. It was nice to have someone to cuddle with on a casual basis, though sometimes you longed for more, more than just friendship, something more intimate. But you weren’t sure if you had the energy for that.
Adam on the other hand longed for the same thing, he made it very obvious that he was interested in you, he would listen to your problems - or at least pretent to do so, because sometimes your problems were fucking boring in his eyes. But he’d hold you in his arms while you talked about things that kept you up at night, no matter if he was listening or not. And that alone seemed to help, at least Adam thought it did by the way you acted. And while the first man tried to act on the feelings he had for you, you made it quite hard for him to actually do so. “Y’know” he casually hummed as he headed towards the kitchen with you sitting on his shoulders. That was a thing you had talked him into at the beginning of your friendship, whenever you felt too tired to walk for yourself you’d ask him to carry you and usually he did so. Sometimes - though that rarely happened - he was too tired himself and would simply refuse to get up at all. “We should give this LuLu world bullshit a fucking try,” he continued as he headed for the fridge. You looked down onto him, a little confused by his statement. “Why?” Adam shrugged his shoulders, his hands grabbed a hold of your legs so you wouldn’t fall as he did. “Why the fuck not? It’s not like this shithole of a fucking hotel has anything to offer.” And while he had a point, you simply saw no reason to visit LuLu world. It was bright, loud and full of people, that didn’t sound very fun to you. “Pass, “ you mumbled as you opened the fridge and looked for something to eat, the brunette sighed loudly, “Fucking c’mon shithead, I’ll be fucking fun.” You shook your head though, “Been there once, it wasn’t fun at all.”The first man reached for a plate of ribs that you had prepared for him a couple hours ago and handed you a bowl of chocolate pudding, “If you say so.” And with that the topic was through and Adam had to come up with yet another idea to invite you on a date.
As Adam turned around to head back to his room he shrieked and backed off against the counter. Niffty was standing in the door frame to the kitchen, a little needle in her hand as she giggled at the sight of Adam. “Lemme down, I’ll put her away,” you mumbled with your mouth full of chocolate pudding and made grabby hands for the brunette to put you back on your own feet, the taller male that was carrying you on your shoulders though shook his head, “No fucking way I let you near that little bitch.” You however simply patted his hair and climbed off his shoulders yourself so that you could head over to Niffty and get that little gremlin out of the way. “Nif,” you hummed in a soft tone as you kneeled down next to the small demon, offering her a small smile. The redhead jumped up and down on the spot in excitement, teasingly pointing the sharp end of the needle in Adam’s direction. You were quick to take that weapon from her, “Nuh uh, I told ya we leave the big guy alone.” Adam raised an eyebrow at that, wondering when the fuck you had spoken to Niffty about anything that involved him, he could not recall a memory like that and therefore figured you must have done that without his knowledge. Kinda cute, that he had to admit. “Awww, but he looks so funny when I threaten him;” the small demon cried out in disappointment, clearly not happy with the decision you had made for her. “Doesn’t matter, he’s off the table Nif, we leave him be,” you explained once more and while not happy with that result, the redhead accepted her fate and took off.
“C’mere you fucking bitch,” the brunette mumbled and you were just about to ask him what he was talking about, but before you could his arms wrapped around your body and you were lifted onto his shoulders again, “Stay away from the fucking impure filth.” That earned the first man a slap on the back of his head and before he could open his mouth to complain you spoke, “I’m filth too, just as impure as the other cunts here.” Adam was quick to disagree,”No you’re fucking not, otherwise I wouldn’t fucking carry you around like you’re the most divine fucker God had ever created.” And while you wanted to argue, there was truly no point, so you simply decided to go along with his point of view.
“Also,” Adam whispered as he was heading back to his hotel room with you still on his shoulders, “That stunt of yours? Fucking badass.” In confusion you asked the brunette, “What stunt are we talking about?” He tapped your knee nervously as Husk walked past you, he waited until the bartender was gone before he responded, “Standing up to that demon bitch.” In reality it had been less impressive, but Adam liked the fact that you had talked to that little girl about leaving him alone and this was his way of saying thank you - it wasn’t a very good way, but that didn’t matter. “I didn’t stand up to her, I-” Adam interrupted you, his voice echoed through the empty hallway as his voice sounded louder than he had intended it to, “Just take the fucking compliment, for God’s sake.” - “Thanks,” you simply responded and gently patted his cheek as you playfully added, “Next time you can just call me hot, I can take compliments if they’re actually voiced as such.” And despite the fact that you weren’t able to see Adam’s cheeks heating up and turning red, you felt them heating up under your touch. “Shut the fuck up, I dunno what the hell you’re talking ‘bout,” he mumbled as he tilted his head downwards, you left this uncommented. If he needed time to admit to his feelings fully, you were okay with that. You have spent your entire afterlife in this hellhole, waiting for someone to save you. Now that a certain someone had arrived and was willing to save you, you were willing to wait for him. And while you did so, you would be able to work on yourself so that you would be ready for him when he decided to take the first step. “You are though,” the words of the brunette drowned your thoughts out and you looked down on him, a big question mark on your face as you asked, “What?” Adam sighed and rolled his eyes, “Hot, dipshit, you’re fucking hot.” Now that was sooner than you had thought he’d admit it out loud, but you took it as it came. “I’m aware,” you hummed, a proud smile on your lips as Adam entered his room and carelessly pushed the door close using his wing, “So are you.”
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dailymanners · 2 months
Text
If it can be helped, avoid making sudden loud noises around others without giving them a warning first that you're about to make a sudden loud sound.
If you absolutely need to make a sudden loud sound for whatever reason (for example testing your home's smoke alarm) warn the people around you within earshot first (such as your housemates who are home at the time you're going to test the smoke alarm)
First of all, PTSD is far more common than many might think, and sudden loud sounds are a very common trigger for PTSD.
Or even if someone doesn't have PTSD they can still be startled or frightened by a sudden loud sound, and obviously it's pretty unpleasant to be startled or frightened. But also, you never know who around you might have PTSD that could be triggered by a sudden loud sound without warning.
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dykedvonte · 17 days
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Discussing the NCR (Fallouts NV's Military Industrial Complex)
Fallout regularly discusses the idea of the military, its faults, its strengths, and most importantly, the psycho-social aspects of it regarding those who are members. We have seen a direct critique of the military generalized through the Enclave's overt nationalism, the hoarding of resources and indoctrination through the Brotherhood of Steel, and an almost eerily modern critique of the whole military-industrial complex through the NCR in New Vegas. In these series of posts, I will be focusing primarily if not exclusively on the last one.
The NCR we see in the game is strictly the military side of things and the depiction of active occupation during a time of eminent war, conflicting factions, and resource scarcity. It is in this we are missing a major factor that negatively affects the view of the NCR in the game and out: Civilian life along with citizen opinion on the military. While we do get Mojave civilian opinion on the military (often neutral or negative) we do not get those who are New California Republic citizens, not those who actually discuss the military more so not understanding the importance of the occupation and the President's choices.
We do not see how life is regularly lived by the average citizen as we have not seen New California in New Vegas, though, we get words and glimpses that the people are relatively content in the growing country minus the fact many people are not happy with the choice of encroaching on the Mojave. This most similarly reflects it's real-world application that many civilian citizens reject acquisition and war due to the economic effects it has on the country and the general violence/loss associated.
In this, we come to an issue of losing a perspective that is unique to the NCR as a military representative. The Brotherhood is notably a place where its active members are intertwined with its efforts, the young are raised to be scribes, paladins, etc... To where even if one is not fighting for The Brotherhood, they are still intertwined, it's propaganda is the life. The Enclave is even more cut n' dry in that it is mostly made up of government representatives. It is a group even smaller than the former, even more selective and intertwined that their propaganda IS a form of Eugenics. The NCR is unique in that there is a clear distinction between what is the military force, the civilian population, and the choice if one wants to be a part of the former.
There is a distinct difference in the cultures of the factions you are born into and those you must enlist or join (forcibly for some). While this is a long-winded way to get into the actual discussion I want to facilitate throughout these posts I wanted an initial background post to understand the aspects I am and am not exploring and explaining along with a hub post to link everything I intend to discuss in the coming days and weeks, starting with:
Why Do People Join the NCR?
...which will be discussed and linked back here like everything else regarding to this topic.
Links: TBA
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nezuscribe · 7 months
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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?
warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it
word count: 10.9K (whoops)
note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3
jjk masterlist
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never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 
you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 
his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 
and he seems to despise you.
you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 
he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 
but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 
you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 
but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 
he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 
after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 
and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 
ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 
you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 
not that it mattered now. 
all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.
you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 
whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.
any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 
he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 
you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 
“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 
“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 
it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 
sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 
for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 
but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 
“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 
“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 
you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 
he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 
he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 
it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 
“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 
if only you knew.
“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 
you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 
“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 
“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 
“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 
and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 
“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 
he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.
“just tell them the truth.” 
the truth. 
tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 
tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 
tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 
tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 
tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 
you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.
“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 
you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.
the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 
you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 
“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 
you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 
but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.
“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 
“i don’t-”
“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 
you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 
---
the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 
you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 
you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 
“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.
“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 
he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 
“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 
you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 
“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 
“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 
“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”
gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 
“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 
“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”
the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 
you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 
“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 
gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 
“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 
“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”
“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 
you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 
a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.
“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”
“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 
“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 
“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”
your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.
“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 
“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 
you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 
“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 
“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 
“if you want to hide, i’ll-”
“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 
a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.
“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 
you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 
“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 
“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 
“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 
“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 
his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 
“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 
you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 
you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 
she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 
she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 
you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 
you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 
you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.
---
gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 
“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 
“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 
you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 
so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 
once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 
you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 
though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 
“what you saw last night-”
“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 
“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 
“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 
“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 
“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 
you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 
you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 
leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 
you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 
it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 
“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 
your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 
“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 
you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 
“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 
“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 
you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 
“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.
a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 
---
gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 
it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 
you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 
when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 
“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 
“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 
“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 
“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 
your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 
you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.
sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 
myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 
until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 
“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.
his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 
he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 
“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 
the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 
“are you alright?” 
you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 
he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 
“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 
“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 
“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 
“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 
“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 
“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 
“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”
you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 
“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 
“you are my wife-”
“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 
gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 
“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 
“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  
he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 
he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 
“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 
you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 
“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 
“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 
“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 
he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 
“what do you mean?” 
you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 
“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”
“letters? what letters?” 
you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 
“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”
his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 
“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 
the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 
“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 
“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 
you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 
“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 
“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 
“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 
“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 
“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 
“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 
you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 
“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 
“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 
a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 
“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 
“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 
“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 
he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 
you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 
it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 
it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 
“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 
“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 
he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 
“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 
“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 
“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 
“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 
“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 
“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 
“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 
“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 
“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 
“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 
“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 
“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.
“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”
“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 
you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 
his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 
your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 
“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 
“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 
“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 
his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.
“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 
“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 
he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 
but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 
you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.
he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.
he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 
“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 
he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 
his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 
it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 
his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 
“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 
“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 
his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 
he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 
“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 
you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 
“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.
“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 
you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 
when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 
he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 
“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 
he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 
“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 
you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 
“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 
“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.
“and then?” 
your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 
“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 
“and then?” 
“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 
“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 
“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 
“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 
“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.
Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!
Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)
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Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.
Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.
“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.
Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?
Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.
He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.
If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.
He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!
It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~
You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.
He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.
He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!
He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.
When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!
Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!
His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.
He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.
One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.
Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.
Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.
He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.
Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.
“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”
Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.
He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.
He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)
He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.
The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.
Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.
You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!
He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.
He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.
Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.
Now let’s talk about Vox.
Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.
He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.
Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.
Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.
Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.
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hannieehaee · 15 days
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SERENDIPITY (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: jungkook, god of love and son of venus is given the task by his mother herself to rid the world of you, known as psyche, as your beauty begins to rival her own. unfortunately for all parties involved, jungkook becomes enamored by you upon accidentally pinching himself with his own arrow.
content: cupid!jungkook, psyche!reader, an extremely simplified and smutty version of the og story, afab reader, side character deaths, mentions of attempted suicide, the dialogue is not super fitting of the times, angst(?), fluff, smut, they have sex where she doesnt know who he is multiple times but its consensual, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 841 (teaser); 8.6k (full fic)
release date: may 3rd
or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!
a/n: i decided to do my first jungkook full fic in celebration for hitting 4k followers!! i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
"Why did you call for me, again?"
"Jungkook, pay attention!", hissed his mother, holding her fingers to her temples in stress as one of her many servants walked in with the fruit she'd requested, "I need you to use your arrows on someone."
"What? Why? I thought you didn't like me meddling with people's love lives."
"This is different. This one needs a little help," Venus frowned in sheer annoyance, "She is known as Psyche by many, Y/N by her loved ones. She has become quite a figure among the Roman population. Some have begun to worship her beauty. They pray to her, they bring her offerings, they kiss at her feet, completely disregarding the true Goddess of Beauty."
"And where does this concern me?", Jungkook was beyond bored by his mother's ramblings. On a usual day, he would be out and entertaining himself with the many mortal maidens found around Rome, always guaranteeing himself a partner for the day.
Venus shot Cupid a look as her servants fed her by mouth, making him straighten his back and begin paying better attention. Even as the Goddess of Beauty, Venus was known as one of the most menacing Goddesses to exist, holding far too much power among all Gods and Goddesses. Jungkook couldn't help but feel intimidated by her, even as carefree as he was known to be.
"She has far too many admirers. Even Gods are beginning to show interest in her, yet she is lacking in suitors thus far. I need you to shoot your arrow and tie her off to the most hideous creature you can muster. She may seize from being a disturbance this way."
"Okay, so you want me to doom her to an eternity with a monster?", Jungkook tilted his head in curiosity.
Despite being considered the most beautiful entity, Jungkook knew Venus to be one of the least amicable creatures in all of the land. Mortals were blissfully unaware of her cruelty, thinking her to be the most perfect among all Goddesses. However, Cupid, as her son, knew of the misery that awaited anyone who crossed the Goddess of Beauty.
Venus halted her movements in frustration, scaring the servants nearby before turning to Jungkook in annoyance, "Cupid, my son, you will obey my order without question. I gave you those wings, I gave you that bow., and I gave you that arrow. I don't care how cruel you may think me to be, this is an order. You shall not utilize your powers for your own endeavors until you finish your task," she demanded, "Now, go rid me of that wench before I find someone else to do the job."
With a sigh, Jungkook nodded in defeat, fully aware of the type of punishments his mother could deliver should he disobey her orders. Walking over to the window through which he had originally entered, he pulled his bow and arrow from his back, beginning to fly off with his wings as he embarked on a journey to seek out the mighty Psyche that had his mother so worried.
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"Y/N, there's another letter from one of your admirers," announced Psyche's mother, placing the letter on the huge pile of gifts provided by the many civilians who came visit their castle with the hope of getting a glimpse of the beautiful girl.
"Mother, what shall I do with all these? There's so many letters yet not a single suitor," you sighed, frustrated at the lack of prospects you'd had so far, "My sisters have both married, yet I am left alone with no one to seek my heart."
"Child, you should be grateful," said your mother, "You are admired through all the land, vied for as if you were a true Goddess. Someone will come for you one day, rest assured," affirmed your mother, petting your hair as she landed a soft kiss on your forehead and took her leave once more.
It was easy for your parents to grow used to the love and admiration you received. Endless people would come and dedicate themselves to their servitude if it meant as much as receiving your blessing – which was absolutely worthless as a mere princess in a land filled with mystical deities.
Your elder sisters had both been married off months back, finding old yet respectable husbands to take them away and care for them as any and all husbands should. You, however, remained alone with your parents, always hoping that a man would be brave enough to court you.
It was unfortunate, really; the way in which your beauty prevented you from receiving any suitors. You had not chosen to be blessed by Venus herself, nor did you ever hope to become her contender in the title of the most beautiful entity in all of creation. Unlike you, she had found a God to sweep her off her feet, gifting her with the fruit of love himself – her son Cupid. Oh, how you wished he'd shoot his arrow and allow you some rest from this endless search for a husband.
...
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dreamcubed · 8 months
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i think he knows | theodore nott x reader
song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move
masterlist
"wanna see what's under that attitude."
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Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.
The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.
"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.
"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.
"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"
You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."
"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."
You sighed, unable to argue.
"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."
That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.
"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.
"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."
You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."
"It's not that hard."
"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."
"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."
"Whatever you say."
Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.
***
It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.
Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.
Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.
"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.
You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.
You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.
He raised an eyebrow at you.
Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."
His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.
Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.
Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?
***
The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.
Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.
It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.
A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.
"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"
You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.
"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."
"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."
"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."
"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.
"I mean, maybe he likes you back."
"What?"
"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."
"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"
Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."
Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"
"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."
"Easy for you to say."
***
You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.
"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.
"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."
You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.
"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.
Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.
"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.
He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.
You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?
"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.
You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?
It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.
Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.
What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.
This might not end well.
***
You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.
"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."
You had a feeling you knew what was coming.
"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"
"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."
"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"
Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.
"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."
Your breath hitched.
You used coconut shampoo.
Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.
"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"
You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.
You felt warm underneath his gaze.
He smirked.
***
You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.
The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.
"You aren't subtle."
A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."
He shrugged, "It's cute."
Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.
"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.
"No. Just quiet."
You clutched your books close to your chest.
"You're shy," he added.
You nodded.
He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.
"Hogsmeade," he said.
You hummed in surprise.
"This weekend. Me, you."
Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.
But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.
***
"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.
"I don't even know if it's a date."
"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."
You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."
"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."
You gave your best friend a small smile.
"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"
***
You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.
How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.
He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.
Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.
At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.
"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"
You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.
"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.
He shrugged.
It was frustrating.
You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."
He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.
"Nott?"
He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.
"Theo- what are you doing?"
Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.
"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.
You hummed in agreement.
"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."
Your breath hitched, "Really?"
"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."
You felt your ears heat up.
"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."
A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.
"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."
You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.
"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."
"Horrifying?"
"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."
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masterlist
written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——
6K notes · View notes
rynbutt · 22 days
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pierced. | spencer reid.
Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.
you can find the other parts on my masterlist.
cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr
a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3
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You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.
Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.
You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).
You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.
"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."
There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.
You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.
You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"
"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.
Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.
You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.
Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.
"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.
"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.
"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"
"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.
Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"
"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"
"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.
"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"
"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"
"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.
"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.
"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.
"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.
"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.
It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.
You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.
"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"
Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."
"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.
"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.
"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.
"Spencer," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.
"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."
"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."
You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.
"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"
"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.
"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.
"So... you do?" You asked.
"...No, I don't." He muttered.
"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.
"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.
"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.
"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.
"Bye, Dr. Reid!"
Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.
"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.
"Shut up!"
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reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.
dividers by @cafekitsune
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simpjaes · 15 days
Note
how about when the hyung line is just too big for ur little tight cunt? need the mtl please bcs I think it'll be HOT!
hyung line + cock too big, pussy too little syndrome ™
warning: size kink, reader is described as small compared to each member, use of words like: little, tiny, small, tight, kinda dub con. note: this is not an mtl, it's just a drabble for each hyung line hottie.
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★ heeseung:
Fuck.
Heeseung knew he was bigger than average but...fuck. When he brought you home from the party he honestly expected you to be able to take it. All of it in one go, really. But no. Barely half of his cock is in you and you're shaking. Clinging to him with a pained look on your face, taking in deep breaths to adjust only to moan out of pain when he tries to push in a little more.
It's kind of driving him fucking wild. Especially in the way he's used to hearing girls moan and groan about how perfectly sized he is, about how big and painful it can be. You though, you can barely fucking take it, unlike those other girls.
Goddamn.
"Yeah." He starts, looking you straight in your teary eyes as he painfully presses in further. "Gonna open that pussy up for me, aren't you?"
You frantically nod, feeling his cock reach so deep inside of you, feeling his girth nearly tear you apart. It's like with each little push, he hits a wall that should tell him to stop, but he only pushes further. Past the block and penetrating your soft and insanely tense walls.
"Tiny." He grits his teeth, pushing, pushing, pushing until he's stuffed his entire length in you. "So fucking tiny."
☆ jay:
"Just a little more," Jay coos at you, rubbing your waist as he slowly presses in. "Hold onto me." He knows well enough that it doesn't feel good for you. Not yet at least. And when he watches you shake your head, trying hard to breathe through the feeling of his thick and darkened head pushing and prodding you open, he can't help but continue to talk you through it. "No?" He whispers in his own half-moan, still pressing in, inch by inch. "I'm already almost in baby, you can take it." He's right about it too, seeing as how you've taken it before. Given, that was only once considering this is only the second time you've hooked up with him. You're not sure why you called him of all people, remembering how difficult it was to get his full cock inside of you last time and the soreness that came after. Then again, maybe it's because of his consistent texting since that night. Not even sexting either. Just gentle conversation, interesting conversation. Like maybe this doesn't need to be a hook-up sooner or later. Who knows? And it continues like this. He presses an inch in, pauses, lets your tight cunt jerk him off, then he tells you to breathe and pushes in another inch. You're so wet too, he's practically obsessed. Never has a pussy so small taken him in full like this, then again, it's not like he's ever been with someone this tight and this fucking tiny. Obsessed is right. No matter how fucking wet you get for him, it doesn't make the slide any easier, even when you're relaxed, you're still so tight around him. Just like now, where he can finally move and fuck you without holding himself back. Which is hard to do, mind you. You cling to him through each painful and bruising thrust, and he lets you. Flexing every muscle in his body so you have something to really hold on to.
And god the way you moan through the pain. He would make you cum in an instant, he thinks, with the way you start moving your own hips to match his rhythm.
The wet sound squelching, like music to his ears especially when paired with your needy whines. "Feels so good, doesn't it baby?"
★ sunghoon:
All day. All fucking day Sunghoon could do this if that's what it takes. Three weeks since you started dating, the first time you had his cock in your hand was also the first time you decided to be afraid to let him fuck you. Something so huge cannot naturally fit inside of you without him blatantly impaling you and probably landing you in the hospital. But god, does he know how to get you horny. With those pretty fingers offering just not enough to be satisfied. With his tongue swiping perfectly but never being filled to full capacity. It's the first time you've even considered letting him stick his dick in you, and arguably, you see why you avoided it until now when he finally does start sliding in. It's not that the thickness hurts, it's just that fact that the fucking slide never stops. You could have sworn he had his whole dick in you ten seconds ago, considering he fucked himself in and out of you a few times before sliding in more. The reach is deeper than you've ever felt. A sharp pain hitting you right in the center of the gut only for him to manage to push in even further. You swear he's breaking something in you and he isn't even actually fucking you just yet. "There you go." Sunghoon coos once he finally bottoms out in you, reaching his hand forward to trace his fingers along your lips. "See? You can take it, love." For just a second, you believed him. But then he started fucking moving. God, you're seeing stars and planets and heaven and hell all in one thrust. He pulls his hips back so far just to slam into you. He knows it hurts too, but he can't be gentle when you're looking like this. So small lying under him, just fucking taking it.
☆ jake:
Jake barely realized you were in pain before he felt your fingernails scratching down his back and you whimpered out a small "take it out." He pulled back to look at you in shock, rutting his hips back and forth into your swollen and glistening hole. It's only been a few seconds since he pushed in, and it's the first time he's ever been asked to take it out?! For you though, you were expecting him to take it slow. Not get between your legs and fucking sink into you without so much as letting you adjust to his size before pounding it into your cervix. He does as he's told though, sliding out just as painfully as he slid in before gripping his cock and holding it just at your entrance. "What? Why?" He asks, not realizing he had knocked the breath out of himself stuffing such a cock in that tight space. "You're...big," You look away from him, feeling embarrassed that you really just told him to fucking pull out. "Too big." Only now does Jake smile, a glint in his eye growing dark and even more aroused than he already was.
"Oh, yeah?" He smiles, teasing your hole with the head of his cock. "You don't think you can take it?" He continues, pressing right back into you and now relishing in that small, tight heat you wish he'd be gentle with. You shake your head frantically, opening your mouth in a silent sob as he uses you, slamming in and out. In, out, in, out. "You already are, babe." He grunts, hunching over to attach his lips to your nipple. "Taking it so fucking well too." You're not sure why that makes you feel proud, but it does.
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velvetydream · 3 months
Text
꒰ :🥀 [ Second chances ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : Lucifer didn't think he would ever have the chance at love again, but then he met you and got to know you after the destruction of the Hotel.
Pairing : Lucifer x Reader
Word count : 2239 Words
Genre : Fluff, Romance
Warnings ➵ Spoilers for EP 8!!
a/n : I love him sm, he deserves the world, a big hug and a smooch to the cheek
Also legit the first part of this barely has any interactions but eh- idk where I was going with this-
Might make this into a series, idk yet.. Also definitely one of my more boring and bad works sadly..
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Coming back to the hotel from an outing in the city, you were met with chaos. Everyone was running around, Razzle and Dazzle were hanging up a banner reading > Welcome Daddy < what was happening? Ducking your head as Sir Pentious darts past you, before making your way over to Charlie.
"Sweetheart, what's happening?" Laying your hand softly on Charlie's shoulder, her hair flies around as she comes to face you. You were one of the first people to join the hotel back then, having grown close to Charlie over that time, she viewed you as a parent figure, while you viewed her like a daughter. "My dad is coming and everything has to be perfect! He has to be assured he can trust me and help me!" That explained a lot, especially why Charlie was so stressed. Pulling her into a hug now, your hand softly gliding over her head, as you mutter how she should not stress too much and that she is doing amazing. Noticing how her body was relaxing against your own, you were glad to have calmed her down at least a little bit.
After helping the others a bit more, it was finally time. Charlie swept her hands on her jacket, before opening the door. A bright choice sounding, as Lucifer pulls his daughter into a tight hug. Before saying hello to Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle. He was.. different than everyone probably though.
Watching Alastor talk to Lucifer now, they for sure could not stand the other one, this would be fun. Charlie now introduced Vaggie to him, which made you smile a little bit when Lucifer took her into his arms. The rest was quickly introduced before Charlie pulled you beside her. "And this is Y/N, Dad! They really helped me a lot already, of course like anyone else here too!" Fumbling around with her words a bit, you softly lay your hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We know what you mean dear, Charlie is an amazing girl, we are really proud of her." Your eyes were on Charlie, before greeting Lucifer correctly.
It was quiet for a second before a crash could be heard. Oh shit.. For a few minutes, the banter between Alastor and Lucifer continued on, making you sigh as you sat down beside Angel. This way going great huh? Vaggie was also at the end of her nerves right now. As they were seemingly coming to an end finally, the doors slammed open and some short blonde lady walked in as if she owned this place. Being introduced to her soon, you decide to tag along with Charlie and the others to show her dad around.
You were simply following the others, listening to Charlie nervously ramble on, only glancing over your shoulder for a second as Husker stopped Alastor, but you decided to not give it another thought.
Arriving at the balcony, you and Vaggie stand back, as Charlie and her dad talk. But too soon they were interrupted as some debris was thrown into the hotel and shook the whole building. Rushing through the portal, you guys are back in the foyer of the hotel, looking around for an answer. Mimzy the woman from before finally explained what was happening, you rolled your eyes, how amazing. Too busy with making sure you saw everyone safe, you weren't seeing the debris falling your way. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet, as Lucifer saved you from being smashed by the debris, setting you down on your feet again softly, as his wings disappear again.
"You see now Charlie what I mean? Those sinners destroy everything! They fall into your home and destroy it, they aren't grateful for anything!" Talking to Charlie now, as Alastor finally decided to step in and fight off those damned loan sharks, before telling the woman to disappear. Watching Charlie and her dad now, as you were standing beside Alastor, a frown visible on your face. She worked so hard for this, why couldn't he believe in her? Though quickly everything explained itself and both of them seemed to finally makeup, a tear slipping from your eye from how beautiful this moment was.
"All right.. I'll get you that meeting but.. once in heaven you're alone I.. can't come with you." Lucifer told Charlie, before disappearing in a red cloud.
That was now a month ago. Right now everyone was getting ready for that damned extermination. Sadly Charlie's conversation with Heaven didn't do anything, on top of that the tension in the whole group grew, with Vaggie being an old exterminator. But that was all over now, as the whole group decided to have one last drink the night before the big battle. You were talking with Husker, as Angel was with Cherri, Alastor and Niffty looking upon everyone and Charlie with Vaggie nowhere to be seen. And of course, Sir Pentious trying to strike up a conversation with Cherri. You hoped everything would go well tomorrow and that no one would die.
The morning arrived, and everyone was gathered outside to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie's dream. Everyone was ready for this.
Almost everything seemed to go down in a wink, the hotel was in shambles, Alastor was missing - assumingly dead, Sir Pentious gave his life for the group and Adam was killed. Now the rebuild of the hotel was in full swing, everyone was helping, even Cherri who wasn't even a resident of the hotel yet. Lucifer also stayed to help his daughter and somehow convinced her to let him have a room too and stay with the group.
"Have you seen Charlie? Some new shipments came." The blonde was approaching you now, his coat and hat off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Raising to your feet from where you were kneeling to work on some nails, you swept some sweat from your forehead before turning to Lucifer. "She and Vaggie went to town real quick for some errands, but she told me where to put them, let me show you." Laying the hammer down on one of the many workbenches, you go accept the shipments, before showing Lucifer the way.
You and him had quite a few conversations over the last few days, with you being a parent figure for Charlie and him being her father, you two talked a lot about how well she is doing. What you didn't notice were the fleeting glances the king of hell threw your way every now and then.
"She told me to just put it here." Opening the door to a little cabinet now on the first floor of the hotel in the foyer. This was the first thing finished, right now the works were on the upper rooms. Putting down the box you were carrying on the shelf, Lucifer followed where you put the other box, before thanking you for helping him out. "Soo.. The hotel is coming together rather nicely huh?" Looking over to you with his red eyes now, as you close the door, a bit confused he was striking up a conversation right now. "Yeah, everyone is doing so amazingly, I'm glad we got so much help.. If we don't look at Niffty punching holes in the new floor trying to catch roaches.." At least some things were apparently not changing and stayed the same.
"Say.. when the hotel is finished would you perhaps.. you know.. maybe.. be interested in a date?" Stopping in your tracks now, you blink a few times. Did you just hear correctly? The Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell just asked you for a date? Turning your head around now, your cheeks slowly become a crimson-red color. Looking at him, he didn't really look different, his cheeks red, as he was sheepishly playing with his sleeves. "You want to go on a date with me?" Raising his eyes to meet yours, he simply nods. "To be honest with you, you caught my eye the day I first came here but.. then all this happened and we never really got to talk and I was worried you would think I'm weird for asking, so I thought I should maybe wait a bit-" He was rambling on, probably from how nervous he was to ask you out. After his ex-wife left him, he didn't really date anyone after that, so it's been a while since he has ever asked someone for a date. "I would love to. Thank you for asking me." Laying your hand softly over his, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze to tell him not to worry too much. Sadly the moment was cut short, when Angel called for you, having someone questions about about paint.
Lucifer's eyes followed you now, the smile on his face not being able to be hidden now, fist-pumping the air happily over how he finally asked you. Charlie came back that moment and looked a little bit more than worried at her father, but overall no new behavior from him.
The hotel was soon finished, Alastor also came back, making at least Charlie relieved that he was still alive, Husker and Lucifer didn't seem so pleased with that fact, but they would get over it.
So now, it was time for your date with Lucifer. Charlie was thrilled when she heard you would be going on a date with her dad, at first you were rather worried about how she would react, but she was happy that her dad was trying to find love again. Making sure your hair was sitting right and your clothes were wrinkle-free, when a knock sounded at your door. Taking one last breath, you open it and are met with Lucifer. His hat was gone and he was wearing a white suit, similar to what he normally wore but more suitable for a fancy dinner - as fancy as a dinner in hell can be.
"You look amazing! Oh my! Look at you!" Lucifer was throwing compliments at you left and right, before he caught himself again, straightened his jacket, and then extended his arm for you to take. "Thank you, you also look amazing tonight Lucifer." Taking his arm now, he guides you two to the elevators which take you down to the foyer. Charlie was trying subtly to look at you two, but failing miserably. "Charlie is staring at us and almost crying.." Whispering to Lucifer now, he just nods, making sure to throw Vaggie a begging look to take care of Charlie, as you two leave the hotel. He decided to take you to the more finer side of Pentagram City, where rather expensive shops and restaurants were and which were less bloody.
"Here we are! It's the finest one I know around here!" Leading you inside, it was a big place. The restaurant had a fountain in the middle and had many plants all around the wide place. Marble floors, stone walls were adorned with gold elements and gold was seen all throughout the place. This was definitely an expensive place by the looks of it. A waiter leading you to a table no, you were sure was the best one in the whole restaurant. It was by a wide window, having a good look down the city, in the distance you could even see the hotel slightly, especially the big sign reading Hazbin Hotel.
"This place is beautiful but.. it looks rather expensive, are you sure this is okay?" Of course you knew who Lucifer was and he could basically afford anything in this whole city and do anything he wanted, you just wanted to make sure. Assuring you now that you shall not worry about something like that. Ordering food and enjoying the meal together, it was a nice evening. Everything goes by smoothly and you and Lucifer finally get around to know each other better. Sadly the dinner was over too quickly, Lucifer leading you back to the hotel now, while telling you a story from Charlie's childhood, which made you giggle. He truly was a gentleman and had a pure heart, he cared so much about Charlie.
"So.. would you.. repeat this another time? I mean only if you also enjoyed it! I of course did enjoy it! I mean you're amazing and-" Standing in front of your room now, you silence him with a soft kiss to the cheek, before looking at him softly fixing his suit. "I would love to Luci, I enjoyed this evening with you alot." Raising your eyes again to meet his, you can't help but let out a giggle at his expression. Eyes blown wide, mouth open and cheeks blazing red. "Great! Yeah! Woah! Me too! Especially the food, poah that was amazing! And the place was really worth it! Was it to your liking? I really hope so because-" Pulling him down by his suit now, your lips softly meeting his, eyes closed, before seperating again as you look at him. "Sorry.. You were rambling so nervously.. Please don't worry, I mean it when I say loved tonight.. Now sleep well Luci." Planting another kiss to his cheek, you enter your room, closing the door behind yourself.
You can help but smile at his little giggles as he skips down the hallway to his own room now. He was something, but you were looking forward to more dates that would follow this one.
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dudeitiskarev · 24 days
Text
I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader
Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.
Word count: 2.4k.
Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.
Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!
MASTERLIST
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A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.
Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.
You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.
“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.
“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”
“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”
The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.
It was his soul returning to his body.
He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.
All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.
You were alive.
“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.
Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.
“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.
Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.
“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.
“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.
“JJ?”
“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”
Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.
“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”
It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.
“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.
“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”
Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.
This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.
“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.
“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”
Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.
God, if you don’t ever wake up—
“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.
She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.
“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.
“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”
Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.
“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”
Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.
“García,” Gideon insisted.
A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.
“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”
“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.
Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.
“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”
Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.
It was just you and him.
The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.
As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.
Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.
He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.
Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.
He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.
His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.
“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”
He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.
“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.
You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.
“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.
He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.
“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.
“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”
It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.
“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”
You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.
Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.
It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.
Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.
Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.
“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”
He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.
“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”
Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.
The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.
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It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.
“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.
Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.
You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.
“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”
It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.
He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.
A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.
Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.
Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.
Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.
Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.
“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.
Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.
“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.
You were awake.
Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.
You coughed and writhed with discomfort.
“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.
You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”
Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.
“Hi,” he merely said.
You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.
“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.
“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”
“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.
This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.
“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”
The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.
“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.
“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”
“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.
The guilt was still there.
“But I didn’t.”
“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.
“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”
He chuckled. “Barely.”
“It looks good. I like it.”
He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.
“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.
“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.
Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.
“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”
“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.
“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”
I love you, he thought.
“How could I not?” he said instead.
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Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.
I hope you liked it!!!!
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
Text
Someone nice, Somewhere safe
Angel x Virgin Female Reader
જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Male Reader - Someone nice, somewhere safe*
*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 
You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.
.<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Female!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>
listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  
minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)
You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when you said you’d never actually orgasmed before, everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.
Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”
 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”
“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”
All of the blood rushed to your face.
“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 
What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?
He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”
His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.
“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.
“Does that happen often?”
“Never.”
“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.
Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.
“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.
“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.
“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”
His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”
You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.
“Do you wanna?”
You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”
Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”
“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.
“It’s perfect, Angel.”
“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.
Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.
“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.
You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.
“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”
“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.
With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”
Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?
You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.
“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.
You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.
With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.
He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.
“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”
“Not really. Not like, there.”
“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.
“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Nerves can make holes dry like nothin’ else. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.
Ah, the towel. That made sense now.
“Should I do something?”
“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”
You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”
“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally came into contact between your legs. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and a down your pussy.
You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”
Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.
His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.
At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with sleeping with women, it was just usually for money or a shoot. Not his preferred flavor, but he could still get it up. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.
His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed passed your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”
“Atleast??” You shook your head.
“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.
It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight entrance of your cunt and settling into the wet warmth behind.
Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?
“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.
You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”
Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.
You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your self grip his finger, nervousness slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.
“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your clit. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your lap warm with the rush of blood.
He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.
“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “Not everyone needs it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.
You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 
“Three fingers means I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube. His long digits were fast and practiced as he rubbed your clit. “Sex math. Dont need your virgin pussy locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his fingers made your body spasm, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering walls made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.
“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.
You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Yeah, it’s starting to feel good.” A weak nod.
Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your clit. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive bud of nerves.
You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.
“Like that? Watch this,” He cupped his mouth over your clit and began strumming it with his tongue. Fat and flat, then thin and sharp. His fingers slowed, now just bending to hit your soft g-spot again and again. 
One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.
He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Feelin’ good?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”
“Yeah. I want to feel more, Angel.” It came out as more of a whine than you meant.
His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your entrance, fingers dipping in then out.
“You comfortable with getting on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”
Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 
“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto pussy, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.
“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”
A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, the tight coil of pleasure his mouth summoned now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your folds, swiping past your entrance. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.
“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”
“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.
He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.
You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”
“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.
He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 
You were so soft around him, yet gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into your walls. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, a rush of pleasure electrifying your clit.
“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.
You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.
He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 
“Right there,” you whimpered, “please don’t stop, right there Angel.” You dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel a pressure building in your lower stomach. 
Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to press at your clit, finger frantically moving. You felt something building, you were desperate to reach its climax.
Angel’s hand came down and pushed yours aside, his fingers strong and not shaking with your impending orgasm. 
“Almost- Angel pleeeease! Don’t stop- keep—” You squeezed his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowing only slightly.
"You can do it, baby. Come on. Almost there~" His words fell apart in his mouth, his own moans getting louder, your cunt tightening in spasms as your first orgasm tore through you. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation, barely ever chosen as the one doing the fucking, let alone fucking a woman. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.
He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.
“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, orgasm still rolling from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.
“Inside,�� you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.
He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.
Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”
You chuckled, “More than anything.” He side eyed you, “Well, not anything.”
“Right answer, toots,”  One of his hands came down and settled on your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”
You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.
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