#very tempted to use this on the back of my jacket

[shrikeseams]

#TOLKIEN #san shoots the breeze #san sews #very tempted to use this on the back of my jacket

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Predetermined.

Written for the very lovely @mars-syndrome.

Pairing: Yandere!Azul x Reader (Twisted Wonderland).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Non///Con, Tentacle Sex, Unprotected Sex, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Long-Term Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.

For everyone except you, the Monsto Lounge closed at ten.

It was an unofficial rule. Octavinelle freshmen would try to turn you away, but it was a mistake the Leech twins made sure to correct by the next morning, and everyone who’d ever worked more than a shift at the lounge knew better than to kick you out at the end of the night. That was why you were allowed to get away with something Azul would usually blacklist a customer for – staying balled up in the corner of a booth until midnight, your attention either on your nearly-dead phone or the untouched milkshake Floyd had wordlessly put in front of you when he came down to make one for himself, like a zookeeper offering a pound of meat to a caged animal. Riddle was absolutely going to kill you for staying out after curfew, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how many sugar cubes you’d have to add to your lemonade tomorrow or how many roses you’d have to paint. You were tempted to spend the night here, to beg Azul to let you use one of the unoccupied rooms and just sleep your misery away, but you’d end up collared for the next week if you didn’t come back at all. The price of being in the best dorm in NRC – you were at the mercy of the strictest dorm leader on campus.

Sometimes, when you couldn’t help yourself, you wished you’d been placed in Azul’s dorm instead. He’d let you get away with anything.

 With a heavy sigh, you pulled your legs into your chest and buried your face in your knees. You felt the bench shift under someone else’s weight and raised your head just enough to see Azul sitting in front of you. He’d already discarded his jacket and scarf, his glasses propped low on the nose of his bridge and his shirt more unbuttoned than he usually cared to keep it. He’d probably just wrapped up his own work for the night. You thought you remembered him mentioning a study guide, but it was hard to tell with Azul. He always had something up his sleeve – it was hard to keep track of which scheme he was on, today.

Silently, he slid a mug of something dark and murky in front of you, steam still rising from the top. Although Floyd’s offering went neglected, you took Azul’s up without protest, letting the warmth seep into your hands. You’d been through this a thousand times. You knew better than to ignore his little remedies, by now.

After you’d taken a healthy sip, he spoke. “Who is it now?”

“Muscle-tee guy, from Savanaclaw.” You groaned, shutting your eyes. “He promised we’d be exclusive, but apparently, he thought that included his roommate, and a girl from Pomefiore, and some idiot from Royal Swords. A boy from his class had to tell me – he had pictures and everything.”

Azul offered a skeptical look. “You’re crying over him?”

“I’m not crying!” You hadn’t cried over anyone since middle school. He should know that – he’d been there then, too, to watch you sob your eyes out when your newest crush tore up your confession letter before so much as opening it. You were a third-year, now. If you were going to cry, you were going to do it alone in your closet where no one would be able to judge you.

You were more tired than anything. You could already feel today starting to weigh on you, your shoulders held at an odd slant and your remaining energy dwindling further by the second. Reluctantly, you uncurled, letting your legs fall over Azul’s lap and taking another drink before going on. “I’m just so exhausted. It feels like it always ends like this. I let my guard down, meet a guy I really like, get him to really like me, and then I find out that that he’s an asshole and somehow, I’m the only one who didn’t know.” You groaned, shaking your head. “I don’t know how this keeps happening. Are all men this bad, or just the ones I choose to date?”

“Unfortunately, your taste is the only common factor.” You let out a dry laugh, shooting Azul a narrow glare. He only shrugged, as composed and as disinterested as always. “Honestly, it’s your own fault. How can you expect to find a quality product when you’re latching onto items you’ve only known for a few days?”

Another groan, this one louder than the first.  You really were tired – it was a struggle just to keep your eyes open. “I don’t sulk in your restaurant ‘cause I want to be lectured, y’know.”

“And I didn’t open a restaurant because I wanted people with pathetic love-lives to sulk in it.” It was his turn to sigh, now, to settle closer to you. A hand came to rest on your back, rubbing small circles into the space between your shoulder blades. He was never especially touchy – you’d caught him cringing after shaking hands with a business partner or being nudged by another clumsy student in an overcrowded hallway more than once – but you could tell he tried to an exception, for you. You appreciated the effort, no matter how much it apparently hurt him. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it wouldn’t hurt you if stopped rushing into relationships with people you barely know. Taking your time might save you a little heartache.” He paused. You weren’t looking at him, but you could picture the thin frown playing over his lips, the way his eyes narrowed in concentration rather than anger (because when Azul was angry, hr only ever smiled). He was smart, but predictable. Maybe it was just because of how long you’d known each other, how long you’d spent standing at Azul’s side while he looked down on everyone else, but either way, you could read him like the back of your hand. You didn’t have to see him to know exactly what he was thinking. “Or, if you really have to rush into something, you could try starting a relationship with someone you actually know. It might not be as much fun, but it couldn’t be worse than—” He gestured to you, your hunched posture, your wrinkled uniform. “—this.”

You perked up, letting out an airy laugh. It was rare for Azul to hand out advice without asking for a healthy fee, so you tried to nod, to smile, to look like you weren’t on the verge of passing out and forcing him to carry you back to your dorm. “I… I’ll think about it. I’ll try.” And you would. You’d try, at least, like you always did when Azul pulled you aside and told you to stop embarrassing him with your week-long flings. “If I wait long enough, I might even be able to find someone like you, Azul.”

There was a long, silent lapse.

Then, Azul’s hand fell to the small of his back, and you felt your strength snap and give out. You thought, distantly, about batting his hand away, about teasing him for how uncharacteristically affectionate he was being tonight, but you just couldn’t seem to make yourself move, to keep yourself upright. You felt your body slump against Azul’s side, and without missing a beat, he caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and letting out a shallow sigh.

“Right,” he muttered, as your eyes finally fell shut. You felt like you’d been hollowed out, sapped of something warm and vital and left to gently float into an unwelcome unconsciousness. You tried to scream, but your mouth wouldn’t open, your lips sealed and your tongue useless. You tried to wake up, but that only seemed to drag you down farther, to pull you that much deeper into that awful, exhausting fog.

“Maybe one day, love.”

~

You woke up to the feeling of something inside of you and cold water lapping against your skin.

In your drugged daze, the latter somehow seemed to take priority over the former. It wasn’t just cold, it was freezing, worse than the Coral Sea in the dead of winter, when the ice drifts blotted out the sun and a stray current alone could send you into hypothermic shock. It only came up to your waist, but you felt the chill run up your spine, spreading through your veins and turning your blood to ice. If you’d been able to move, you would’ve been shivering. If you’d been able to think clearly, you would’ve been more afraid.

But you could move, even if you couldn’t think. You managed to lift your hand, bringing it into your line of sight only to find a slick, pitch-black tentacle wrapped around your end, its suckers latched onto your skin and its dull point tangled around your fingers. You recognized it in an instant – Azul’s, down to the lilac-grey underside and the permeant compression marks etched into the tip, earned through countless hours of writing up contracts. You hadn’t him in his true form since you enrolled in NRC. You wondered what would be important enough for him to break his streak now.

Another wave of frigid water broke against your midriff, and you felt something quirk inside of you. It was a tight, bad feeling – a string of tension wound tight enough to coil in on itself, to ache and throb as your cunt stretched around something thick and awful and a soft, blunt head rubbed and flicked against your inner walls. Wait, that was right – something was inside of you, thrusting as it curled and twisted and thrashed. You felt it curve in on itself, the base rising to grind against your clit as it moved, and you bolted upward, taking a gasping breath. It didn’t stop you. The tentacles wrapped around both your wrists and draped over your legs weighed you down but offered no resistance as you straighten your back, as you panted and blinked and ran your hand over your stomach, half-expecting to feel a bump where it was stabbing into you. You didn’t find what you were looking for, though, or maybe you did, you couldn’t tell, your attention already moving on to the wading pool you were laying in, shallow but wide and full enough for the water to spill over the sides, and then the thing on top of you, your eyes eventually land on–

On Azul.

Azul.

Your mouth fell open, a plea for him to help you dying in your throat. He looked as strung-out as you felt; his hair pushed away from his face, giving you a perfect view of his half-lidded eyes, his parted lips, the dark blush painted across his cheeks. His hands were braced on either side of you, edging too near to your hips for comfort, and you were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you, his chest a breath from pressing into yours. Even that distance was a temporary luxury, gone as soon as your eyes met and he let out a hitched groan, falling forward until his face was buried in your neck and you couldn’t so much as imagine getting away from him.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, your legs thrashing weakly as you attempted to push him away, but now, now he chose to restrain you, his spare arms dragging yours down until they were pinned to your sides. Your legs were caught up in his tentacles, too; a pair wrapping around your thighs and spreading them apart, dragging you deeper into the water and leaving you unable to hold yourself up. His breath was as cold as the water, fanning over your skin and making the heat beginning to drip down the inside of your thighs that much more unbearable. You heard him whine, the noise pitchy and desperate, going on for seconds before he seemed to find the will to actually speak. You weren’t sure which would’ve been worse – hearing his voice in a place like this, or watching him abuse your body without so much as an apology.

“You’re tight.” There was a stilted inhale, a trembling groan. “I— Fuck, I knew you would be, but it’s like your body’s been waiting for this as long as I have. It’s like—” His voice gave out, a manic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “It’s like we were made for each other.”

He sounded so happy. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him excited about something other than schemes and contracts and profit margins measured down to the last stray cent. Usually, the closest you got was a sense of smug condescension – a certain light in his eyes and a manic zeal in his grin. This was different. This was so, so much worse.

You felt his mouth latch onto your throat, pointed teeth nipping at the skin just above your jugular before burrowing into you, drawing enough blood to drip down your chest and tint the water pink. He wasn’t satisfied with a single mark, either; his attention falling lower, to the curve of your shoulder, then the vulnerable flesh just above your collarbone. As his concentration wavered, you were allowed to slump forward, but yet another tentacle found its way to your neck, wrapping loosely around your throat, applying just enough pressure to keep you upright. It reminded you of how Azul would correct your posture when he caught you hunching over your desk, or how he’d tell you to stand just a little closer to his side while he was talking to the other dorm leaders, to sit next to him rather than across the room while he was meeting with a student who spared anything more than a stray glance in your direction. He’d never been afraid to pose you. This was just an extension of that, really – a more honest version of the same bad habit.

The rough underside of the tentacle inside of you rubbed against the walls of your pussy, and you imagined digging your nails into his cheek, clawing at his eyes, kicking and thrashing and yelling until someone heard you, until Azul decided the risk wasn’t worth the reward, but you couldn’t bring yourself to so much as attempt to move, to fight against his bondage. It was all you could do to watch him from a distance, to force yourself to be vaguely aware of what he was doing to you. The tentacle inside of you fell into a steady rhythm, and Azul’s hand fell to your clit, clumsily circling the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. His inexperience was apparent, his usual air of confidence discarded in favor of seeking his pleasure and forcing the same misplaced bliss onto you. You didn’t resist, but you jerked away from his touch. If he noticed that you were trying to get away from him, though, if he could see your pained expression or grit teeth, he didn’t seem to care, to think of it as anything other than you bucking into his hand. He tilted his head back, his pale eyes flickering towards your face, a wide smile plastering itself across his lips. Slowly, joltingly, he pulled himself back to your height and before you could brace yourself, his lips were crashing into yours. Teeth scraped against teeth, his tongue pressed into yours, and you thought, through the daze, that this might’ve been his first kiss. You couldn’t remember him mentioning anything, ever telling you about a pretty girl or cute boy who’d caught his eye. In fact, you couldn’t remember him ever mentioning anything about love or romance at all.

Huh.

It made sense, once you took a step back.

You didn’t kiss back. Obviously, you didn’t kiss back. Azul didn’t seem to care. He was panting by the time he pulled away from you, his blush darker and his pupils blown out with lust. You felt the tentacle inside of you twitch, and thought for the first time that it might not be a tentacle at all but something too terrible to name. You were almost thankful when the tentacle around your neck slipped past your lips and forced your teeth apart, giving you something to think about aside from that awful, slick thing inside of you, aside from the revolting heat slowly beginning to curl and flicker in your core. The tapered tip brushed against the back of your throat and you gagged violently, the air hitching in your throat and your body lurching against his. Azul’s grin grew broader, his pace rougher. “You’re going to cum.” It wasn’t an order or a question, just an assessment, an observation. A prediction you could only hope wouldn’t come true. “That’s alright. That’s perfect. I want you to. I’ve waited so long to—”

His voice cut out with an airy groan. He pressed himself closer to you, his stare boring into skin and his lips ghosting over yours. You tried to turn away, to clench your eyes shut, but his hands came up, cupping your face and pulling you back to him. The tentacle assaulting your mouth jutted deeper, forcing you to open your eyes, to meet his. He was crying – you could see the tear tracks running down his cheeks, carving trails across his pale skin. He was smiling, wider than you’d ever seen him smile before.

“I tried to give you a chance.” He was muttering, now, the words barely audible and entirely deafening all at once. “I tried, but this is what you drove me to.” He rested his forehead against yours, drove his nails into your jaw. “This was the only way I could show you that we were made for each other.”

Made for each other. Made for each other.

The conviction in his voice was so steadfast that, maybe, in another scenario, you probably would’ve believed him.

A tight, searing heat washed over you. Your body went rigid, tensing up as your vision burnt white and your cunt clenched around his tentacle. At the same time, something burst open inside of you, filling you with something hot and horrible and so much worse than the water you were still submerged in, the water you wished would’ve drowned you minutes ago. Rather than pull back, you felt Azul draw closer, wind around you tighter, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t.

Going limp, you leaned against the edge of the pool and closed your eyes, letting your mind drift far, far away. Azul let you, his hands falling away but his tentacles persisting with their grinding and groping and invading. It didn’t matter. It was like Azul said – you were made for each other, right?

You could only wonder how long ago he’d decided that.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland masterlist #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst #azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

What if instead of Wednesday being in the room when Bianca knocks on Xavier's door, he's cuddling with his new girl? Hides under the bed or closet or whatever

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

You rubbed soft circles into Xavier's waist where his shirt was riding up while slowly kissing. His sketchbook had been abandoned and kicked to the end of the bed, no longer of first interest. Despite being alone, neither of you had any further intentions.

Xavier hummed at your touch and leaned into you like the soft and needy kitten he was. You smiled and continued your caresses.

Your and Xavier’s relationship was completely unknown to your Nevermore peers. After his very public breakup with Bianca Barclay, Xavier didn’t want to flash his new relationship to everyone — especially Bianca. She didn’t call the shots and tried many times to get Xavier to take her back, but he refused every time.

Besides, sometimes things are better if you keep them just yours.

A knock on the door forced you and Xavier to break apart. You didn't want to, very comfortable entangled with him on his bed, but there was a possibility this was the house master passing for his evening checking.

Xavier pushed you into his bathroom in prevention and closed the door. The floor was still wet from his shower, but it wasn’t dirty like under a bed.

He tamed his hair a little and opened the door, finding a smiling Bianca on the other side. Slamming the door in her face was tempting, but Xavier didn’t want to make a scene.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her inside. ‘’You're not supposed to be up here,’’ he said flatly.

‘’Good to see you too,’’ Bianca snarked back.

‘’How did you get past the house master? Did you use your siren powers?’’

‘’Not while wearing this.’’ She touched her amulet necklace.

Xavier walked away from her, keeping a distance between them. ‘’What do you want, Bianca?’’

You could hear in his voice that his interest in her was completely gone, but she refused to bury their relationship. She kept searching for a spark through the burned embers to revive the flame. Unfortunately for her, Xavier was fueling another fire.

‘’I wanted to see how you’re doing. I’m sorry about Rowan. I know you and him used to be close—’’

Xavier huffed. The last time he heard her talk to Rowan was in fencing class and she called him lazy.

‘’Since when do you give a damn about Rowan?’’

‘’I care about you.’’

He couldn’t deny that. Although she made him doubt his own feelings for her, Bianca wasn’t an evil soul. She always cared about Xavier, whether they were in a relationship or not.

Bianca stepped up to him by his bed and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. ‘’We were good together, Xavier.’’

‘’Were we?’’ he asked, looking up at her. ‘’Or was that how you wanted me to feel?’’

The walls of the bathroom were thin enough for you to hear their conversation close to perfection. Thin enough to hear the lingering pain in Xavier’s words, still hurt by Bianca’s past actions.

‘’I made one mistake and you can’t forgive me—’’

‘’There is nothing to forgive. I just want to move on,’’ Xavier said, tired of going over the same things every time they talked. ‘’I broke up with you, remember? Now, please leave before the house master comes for bed-checks.’’

Regardless how sorry she was, the manipulation of his emotions was something he could never forgive Bianca. His whole life is controlled by his father in a way or another; the only thing Xavier has control over is his emotions and if someone take that from him, he’ll have nothing left.

She accepted her defeat and turned to leave, but on her way out, Bianca caught something on the adjacent empty bed. A jacket.

‘’Isn’t that Y/N’s jacket?’’ she asked, recognizing the clothing.

For a short few seconds, Xavier thought he had been caught. He found himself stammering while searching for a quick but good enough lie.

‘’She…she forgot it in the quad a-and I was planning to give it back to her tomorrow.’’

Bianca raised an eyebrow, doubting him. ‘’I’ll see you tomorrow at the lake. Make sure to get enough sleep…or not.’’ Her blue eyes shifted to your jacket. ‘’I’m gonna crush you anyway.’’

After her departure, Xavier groaned. She knew you were there.

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar   @aphex2winn @moompie   @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday #wednesday imagine #wednesday netflix

[seeingivy]

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

--

dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 

you snort. 

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 

his response back is very prompt. 

Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 

--

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 

“hey. i’m sorry i-” 

“jesus fuck-” 

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 

“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 

“what?” 

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks! you too!” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 

“you did research for a date?” 

“you can choke on your spit.” 

you grin. 

“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 

“you’re filthy.” 

you grin. 

“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 

he sneers. 

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  

you snort. 

“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 

you grin, leaning in. 

“is that right?” you whisper back. 

“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 

“are you crazy?” you whisper. 

“what?” he asks. 

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 

sukuna leans back, obliging. 

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 

“oh, shut up.” 

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 

“sukuna. you didn’t–” 

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 

“you are so…” 

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 

sukuna grins. 

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 

“and how’s that?” 

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“obviously.” 

you jab at his side. 

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 

“okay, captain obvious. and?” 

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 

“hey! that’s not true.” 

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 

you curl your nose. 

“worms?” 

“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 

“you just get me, princess!” 

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 

“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 

you groan. 

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward. 

“you know, you actually do though.” 

“as if.” you groan. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 

“yeah.” 

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 

“you’re disgusting.” 

“you love it.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 

you frown. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 

“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

--

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

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[angel-of-the-moons]

Mr and Mrs Knight

Steven Grant (Marc Spector + Jake Lockley) x Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, body dysmorphia, smut, suit kink, glove kink, fingering, PiV sex, creampie, squirting, misuse of The Suit™ (and truncheons), cosplay, established relationship, fluff

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I am unashamed to admit that suits are fucking hot and the shit they do to me is what I imagine straight men feel when they see a VS model in lingerie. And Steven is hot. So is Marc. And Jake and Oscar in general you get the rest. Imagine the Mrs Knight suit looks something like this. (Also featuring the headcanons by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction for Jake's craftiness!)

Taglist: @mundivagantsoul @belle-oftheball34 @steven-grants-world @denile-xo @whatevenisagrapefruit @hagridnmegamind @sapphire-and-ruby

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It had been a banger of a night. A fun Halloween bash at the museum, amazing costumes, great food. Donna even seemed to be in a decent mood. But of course that woman could have been faking it.

You and Steven decided to go with matching costumes. In a gross abuse of Steven, Marc, and Jake's status as Moon Knight, you'd convinced him to use his "Mr Knight" suit as his costume.

Jake helped you make yours to match. Finding the majority was easy enough at thrift stores (despite Marc's insistence that you should buy a new one), the mask was what was the pain.

That's where Jake's expertise came in. Sure his main skill was in knitting, but that didn't mean the man wasn't nuanced in other ways to make clothes. You couldn't count how many times Jake would stitch up the seams of your favorite jacket that you just refused to throw away, or how many times he'd hit you with that smug smile when you blubbered about how awesome he was for giving extra life into your jacket so you could wear it juuuust a bit longer.

Your mask turned out to be almost a perfect replica of his, complete with glowing lenses to match Steven.

You were nervous when you got dressed, looking in your floor-length mirror at your reflection.

Your hair was pinned back neatly to allow you to pull the mask on or off (because unlike Steven's, which was magically suited--pun intended--to be comfortable) without much problem, and you would still appear "flawless" as Steven put it.

But right now, you were having second thoughts. You weren't sure you liked how the skirt fit you. Or the blazer.

The waistband of the skirt squeezed your waist and the rolls of your tummy, the creases in the fabric seemingly emphasizing every imperfection you saw in yourself.

Your transparent white stockings were not helpful either, the bands squished the fat of your thighs in a way that made them look like muffins, even moreso than your tummy. They kept rolling down so much you had to buy garters to wear beneath your skirt just so they'd stay up...

You frowned at your reflection as the skirt rode up your legs, showing off the cute lace trim of the stockings and your squishy thighs; honestly if you weren't careful, or you bent over the skirt would bare your ass to the whole party.

You were tempted to go and grab that last minute shitty vampire costume you had stashed away, when Steven walked in, already dressed immaculately in that gorgeous white suit of his.

He adjusted the tie, not looking at you as he does so.

"Hey, luv, I'm fairly ready. I can help you with your makeup now, if..." His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth feels suddenly very dry at the sight of you all dressed up.

His tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip, moistening it as he clears his throat.

"You look good."

"Oh.... Thanks." You mumble shyly, trying to pull the edges of the blazer down to cover the rolls poking out of your skirt a bit more.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong, beautiful?" He said softly, moving up to you.

"I... I look like a marshmallow." You sigh hesitantly, your tone full of self-deprecation.

"Hey, now." Steven smiled sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist as you tucked your face into his lapel.

"You're the most gorgeous marshmallow on the planet if that's the case." He told you, kissing the top of your head.

He felt something press down on him, and he looked up at the mirror, getting a full view of your back, but he saw Marc's face staring back at him with a cringed expression.

(Dude, that was the shittiest compliment ever. What woman wants to hear her being compared to a marshmallow??) He hissed.

Steven was about to retort, before you started bubbling out on laughter at how silly his compliment was.

"That was so corny." You snicker.

Steven gave a smug smirk at Marc before looking down at you with a soft, lovesick smile.

"Yeah, well, you love my sense of humor, eh?" He winked.

"Yeah... I guess I do." You smile back.

"Now, then! Your makeup. Let's sit you down so I can work on it for you!"

Whenever you had your doubts about your appearance, Steven, Marc, or Jake would pipe in and alleviate your worries. Sometimes all three at once, though rapid switching would often cause problems for them (like migraines).

You kept your eyes closed as Steven carefully applied your highlighter to your cheekbones, the brush tickling your skin, his shaky breaths ghosting over your face.

He would mumble some curses when he messed up, but would correct his mistake.

When you had asked him where on earth he learned to contour and highlight he shyly admitted he watched half a dozen tutorials on YouTube to get it perfect for you.

You felt the coldness of the liquid eyeliner as he painted on the wings with the white liner, the silver and gold glitter further adding to your look.

"'Kay luv, open your eyes so I can apply your mascara." He murmured, looking down in your makeup kit for the said cosmetic.

Once he did, he pulled out the black tube and made sure there was no excess before he carefully combed the white creamy substance on your eyelashes, lightening them up to enhance the face he'd helped apply for you.

Once he was finished with both eyes, he leaned back and allowed you to blink, smiling that puppy dog smile of his in satisfaction at his handiwork before placing the mascara tube back in the kit.

He lifted his hand and shook the bottle of setting spray so you wouldn't accidentally sweat it off or wipe it off with something during the night (or god forbid it rub off on the inside of your mask).

"Close em again for me."

You couldn't help but smile at his level of gentleness and politeness.

You restrained from physically recoiling as the cold setting spray hit your skin and quickly dried.

"Now, do you want to put on lipstick now or when we get to the party?" He asked as he watched your sickeningly gorgeous lashes flutter open. All the white, silver, and hints of gold on your face enhanced your eyes and their color, the very depths of them stealing his breath away.

"We can do it now. I have liquid matte and regular lipstick." You reply, smiling once again.

"Which would you prefer?" Steven asked you.

"Whichever you think would look best."

He sucked in a breath that his lungs were suddenly starving for, and grabbed the liquid tube.

His hand gently cupped your chin as he brushed the satiny lipstick onto your lips, carefully lining them so it wasn't too much. He'd even dipped his finger in your cosmetic glitter and applied a very gentle amount.

"Gorgeous." He breathed.

"Aww..." You giggle, thankful for the glitter and makeup that hid your blush at his praise.

"Now then... Let's go, shall we?" He said, taking your hand to help you stand and slip in your white heels.

As the two of you left, Steven could hear Jake in the back of their headspace.

(Que hermosa... Be careful, hermanito. If she bends over, I just might take over for the rest of the night and have that ass for myself.)

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Mr and Mrs Knight. That's what you two went as for the party. You two even won the prize for best couples costume!

Sure it was just a gift card to some restaurant, but it was exhilarating to hear how people adored your matching outfits.

And you couldn't help but notice all night that Steven simply couldn't keep his hands off of you.

He would get like that sometimes; working himself up like that, but trying to be subtle. You knew it was only a matter of time before an awkward boner would be the cause for the two of you to leave early, so you excused yourself to the restroom under an excuse to check and see if your makeup needed retouching or if you could go the rest of the night without your mask.

But you got a little nervous when two women went into the lavatory after you, and you felt trapped within your stall. You simply couldn't stand the glances from other women you were getting all night. You were afraid these two women who were clucking at each other like hens were amongst the ones judging you.

And your fears were confirmed.

"I can't believe that such a handsome guy would pick a blimp to be his girlfriend." One of them scoffed as she applied a fresh layer of brick red lipstick. As if she didn't have enough on already.

You felt your heart sink further inside of you as the other joined in.

"I know, right? It's gotta be her tits, only thing I can imagine. Maybe her ass, too." The other laughed as she touched up the false blood on the corners of her mouth.

"Either that or she gives good enough head that he can overlook the fact that if she ever got on top she could crush him." The first one snickered.

Your hands knotted in the mask you held in your hands, threatening to tear the stitches Jake so lovingly sewed in for you to wear tonight. You bit the inside of your cheek harshly as the two gossiped further.

"Ugh, and the sad thing is, he's cute, for a bookworm who won't shut up." The second sighed.

"Ugh, I know... I can look past the blabbering if I can see what he's packing."

"Right? I wonder if he's as good with his mouth as he is with his stupid history facts." The first giggled.

You gritted your teeth. You couldn't take much more, you knew that. Insulting you, you could take and bottle up to deal with later, probably in the heat and privacy of your shower.

But talking about Steven like he's some kind of... sex toy? No. Hell no. If you were anything, you were insanely protective over your boys. Even bordering on possessive at times (of course the same was true for the boys about you).

You were done.

You slammed the stall door open and sort of enjoyed how startled they seemed when they saw you, their jaws dropping when it hit them that you heard everything.

You hurriedly wash your hands and slip your gloves back on, gripping your mask in your hand tight as you spare them a backwards glance before leaving the lavatory to find Steven.

You felt sick to your stomach and you wanted to go home...

When you found him, his brows knitted upwards in concern at how tight-lipped and tense you were when you gripped his sleeve tight.

"Ey luv, what's wrong?" He murmured to you, leading you away from the crowd.

"I... I just want to go home." You say, the words those women said about your body weighing down on you, and the things they said about Steven burning hot in your gut. You weren't sure what to feel with this cocktail of emotions.

"Hey hey, okay we can leave." He says, kissing you on the forehead.

"Let's go."

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The walk back to your flat was... Difficult. You could barely hold yourself together, suddenly hyper-aware of every roll and stretch mark on your body, even the slight double chin you had when you moved your head a certain way.

It wasn't until you were in the lift of your building that you finally broke down, your reflection staring back at you in the walls of the tiny space, crushing down on you with every imperfection you saw.

You couldn't keep in the bubbling sobs, or the fat tears that rolled down your cheeks and ruined the makeup Steven worked so hard to put on you.

He cradled you against him and cooed to you, saying sweet nothings and whispering nothing but praise for your looks, rubbing your back and kissing your hair.

In the various angles of the reflections, and the oppressive feeling weighing down on Steven... He could see and feel Marc and Jake.

Both looked pissed. Marc almost looked violent.

(If anybody talks like that about our muñeca again...) Jake trailed off.

(Oh trust me, I'll do the honors.) Marc growled.

The walk back into your flat felt horrid. You didn't just cry, you ugly-cried. You ruined your makeup, your hair fell out of the pins, and your skirt rode up more with every rushed step you took to hurry up and get in to get into some baggy clothes that didn't showcase your body.

You didn't feel cute or sexy anymore, you felt... ugly.

And Steven didn't like that one bit. Marc and Jake retreated, knowing that their anger at your injured self-opinion wouldn't help. This kind of situation was a Steven situation. He knew best how to be the sweetest person on the planet with you.

But right now he wasn't feeling particularly sweet. Sure, you were upset. But he couldn't help but get a good look at you as you walked ahead of him, the skirt riding up so much that he could just barely see the black and blue panties you wore beneath, your cheeks peeking out from the edges of the fabric, the garter straps clinging desperately to your stockings in effort to keep them up your gloriously plush thighs to keep them up.

He felt hot beneath the collar, his trousers getting uncomfortably tight as blood flowed straight to his cock.

The moment the door closed behind you, your hands, trembling and rushed, went to unbutton the blazer to get it off of you quicker, sniffles and tiny sobs sneaking out of you in the process.

However, your actions were halted when Steven placed his hands gently on your shoulders from behind, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of your blazer, trying to soothe you.

"Love. You're gorgeous. Beautiful." He breathed, resting his forehead against the back of your head, inhaling the lingering scent of your shampoo.

"Steven, I'm... I'm not." You sniffle. "I'm fat, I can barely squeeze into a pair of jeans, I can't even shop at normal clothing stores for women. I get looks when I wear anything tight, and--and the things I hear people say about me--"

Your voice is broken off when you hiccup, feeling another sobbing fit try to get out of you.

"You don't understand what I'm sayin', luv." Steven smiled into your hair, ever patient.

"You're the prettiest girl in the world to us. You don't need a flat belly, or toned thighs to be pretty. You're funny, you're warm, and you're soft."

You made a shocked squeak when his hands snake around you, his gloved hands gripping at your belly and squeezing the plushness there through your clothes.

Your denial died in your throat when Steven rolled his hips into you, his hard cock throbbing as he rutted into the curve of your ass.

"You wouldn't be able to get to me like this if I didn't find you the most gorgeous woman on the planet. You wouldn't get Jake to say the filthy things he tells you in bed. You wouldn't have Marc snuggling you and resting his head in your lap or on your belly..."

His breathing got heavier as he rocked his hips into you further, a bitten-back whimper dying as he swallowed hard.

"S-Steven--"

"You've been driving me insane all night. This skirt looks so good on you." He says hotly in your ear, his fingers rolling up the hem of your skirt to reveal your panties and garters, making you gasp again.

"Those stockings huggin' you so tight. Been thinking about how badly I want to have my head between your legs, tonight." He growled.

Before you could say anything else, his gloved hand went up to your mouth and he tapped your lips, begging for entrance. Powerless to resist him, you let him press his fingers into your mouth, your tongue wetting them effectively before he pulled them away, and slipped down into your panties

He dragged one of his fingers up your puffy lips, parting your folds before he turned his attention onto your clit.

"S-S-Steven--" You whimper when he starts to circle the little nub.

"Hush, now. Let me show you, eh?" Steven said, biting at your earlobe softly.

You couldn't fight it, you couldn't fight the warm nectar that gushed out from you at his words and affirmations. All your mind could focus on was how wonderfully his fingers toyed with your cunt, deftly rolling, pushing, and pinching your clit in every way he knew that brought you the best pleasure, the fastest.

Your mind practically went blank when he curled two fingers into your weeping hole, the leather around his digits making them thicker than they normally would be, and providing a luxurious texture to your clit as he massaged you with his palm. His mouth trailed down your neck, breath hot on your skin as he bit down and sucked.

It wasn't like when Jake did this to you, no. Every one of them had different methods, different touches...

And Steven was particularly good at balancing out the sweet and the hard, paying more attention to your own pleasure than his. Sometimes, he would get so lost in pleasuring you he'd cum in his pants without even being touched.

This time was no different... in no time at all, he had you cumming so hard you almost fell to the floor, your slick gushing out and soaking the glove.

He smiled sweetly into the skin of your neck as he eased you forward, so you could press your palms on one of his desks, thighs quivering as you recollected yourself.

You barely saw through your haze clearly enough to catch Steven licking his glove clean through the reflection in the mirror on the desktop, his eyes closing in satisfaction at your savory taste.

You half expected him to drop to his knees and eat you out, next, but he doesn't. He just stands there for a moment, staring at you with a lidded and loving gaze, curls falling forward over his forehead as they always do.

That's when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head, and you pinch your legs together, and try to wiggle away from his gaze, to retreat to the safety of the bathroom and escape from his heated staring.

But in a flash, Steven is on you again, his hands gripping at your hips and that's when you feel the hot, heavy weight of his leaking cock slap against the barely clothed flesh of your ass as he rolls your skirt up completely over your hips.

"Steven!" You squeak.

"Hey, now... 'M not done showing you yet." His voice croaks out, heavy and barely coherent as the silk fabric of your panties brushes the head of his dick.

He groans, giving one more roll of his hips against your ass, smearing more precum on the fabric and skin, there; before he gripped the base, lining his cock up to your weeping hole.

"Fuck, luv. So soft. So wet f'me." He said, voice strained from barely contained arousal.

You squirmed, still feeling inadequate despite Steven's words and assurances.

God, you wanted him. You wanted him so badly. But right now you just felt so... so...

Your thoughts cut themselves off when he reached behind him, and from beneath his coat pulled out one of his engraved truncheons.

Placing it in front of you and gripping it with his other hand, pulling you tight against him as he thrust sharply into you, sheathing himself in one whole go, the tip of his cock slamming upwards so suddenly you felt his tip smush your cervix before he eased back.

"B-baby--" You whine, despite yourself.

"Not runnin' away, luv." Steven grunted into your hair as he thrust into you, his hands gripping tightly on the truncheon, using the bar to squeeze against your belly and hold you against him while he fucked you raw.

You couldn't fight the snapping of his hips or his raw need for you, right now. You couldn't hold back the moans and whimpers he wrenched out of you with each punctuation of his hips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck--" You hear him wheeze as his thrusts get more and more desperate.

There is a metallic clang as he tosses the truncheon to the floor in favor of gripping your thigh and lifting your leg so your knee was on the desktop.

You let Steven guide you so you're practically laying face down on the desk, his cock still spearing you open, pussy fluttering around him at the change in position.

You were taken by surprise when he grips your wrists next, ripping off his tie before slipping it over your hands, before tying them together at the curve of your back. Not tight enough to cut off circulation, but tight enough you couldn't squirm free.

He hesitated a moment. As nice as it would be to watch the soft flesh of your ass bounce and ripple while he fucked you... He didn't want to do it like this.

So, without further hesitation on his part, he gripped you, lifting you off your feet and rolling you so you were laying with your upper half on the desktop, pulling your legs up so your calves rested on his shoulders, all without dislodging from the warm tightness of your cunt.

You whimpered as he does this, and try to wriggle from his tie so you could cover your face, your running makeup and smeared lipstick.

Your pitiful, chubby face--

"Hey, hey..." His voice is soft and shaky as he leans in, cupping your cheek with one hand as your thighs squish against the both of you.

He caresses your soft cheek with a thumb and he smiles.

"Don't hide from me, sweetheart. You're gorgeous and I want to see you."

"Steven, I..." You whimper as your pussy clenches around his shaft, making it twitch inside of your tight, gummy walls.

His eyes rolled back with a groan.

"I'm not gonna stop until you see what I see." He grunts, dragging his cock out slowly until only the tip remains inside of you, the rest of your cunt squeezing desperately around nothing.

You're barely given a moment of respite before he snaps his hips into yours again, fucking you relentlessly and hitting your sweet spot over and over withe every arch of his hips.

Some of Marc's precision was bleeding into him as he aimed the tip of his cock like a weapon against your g-spot, pounding into you hard and fast, stoking the fire in your belly so hotly that you felt the embers scatter throughout your veins, every nerve in your body aflame in pleasure.

His left hand kneads the soft skin of your thigh, squishing and rolling the plush flesh beneath his gloved fingers before he slips his other hand between you, circling your clit mercilessly, making you shriek with every sharp thrust of his hips.

He loved how your body jiggled and bounced with every thrust; how your tits were bouncing so hard that they were spilling out of the top of your bra cups, your blazer falling completely open around you, now.

Despite still being fully clothed, you felt utterly naked beneath his gaze. Fresh tears burned in your eyes as he crammed his cock into you over and over again, his fingers working your second orgasm out of you faster and faster with every swipe of his fingers.

"It's okay, luv." Steven moaned, turning his head to plant a kiss on the inside of your knee, the leg he was squishing in his fingers.

"Cum for me, yeah? Show me how pretty you are." He pants, his thumb pressing hard into your clit.

That was all it took, the friction of his fingers, the thrusts of his hips, and each jab of his cock, plus his words? You were on cloud nine, brain fried and all sense gone as drool dribbled down your chin and you cum with a choked cry, babbling out his name over and over as your body clamps down, gushing around his cock, spraying out and soaking his hand and the front of his suit.

Steven, poor, loveable, goofy Steven could never hold out too long after you came, the squeezing and milking of your pussy was simply too much for him to bear.

Your eyes rolled back and you felt yourself spasm in an aftershock as you felt the hot ropes of his cum painting your walls a milky white, flooding your hungry cunt with everything he had to give you.

He drops your leg, wrapping them around his waist as he leans in and kisses you roughly, his tongue pushing past your lips to twine with yours and steal your recovered breaths.

"See... You're fucking beautiful. Wouldn't do this to us otherwise." He mumbles against your lips.

"Oh... God." You whimper.

Your mind ticks back into sanity and you realize the two of you are still clothed. Your outfit was of course mussed, but Steven was almost completely immaculate. The only thing he was missing of his suit was his tie, and the only sign of mess was the wet stain on his front, and his cock still sheathed inside of you.

"Hmm." He hummed softly, looking down at you with the softest gaze he could fix on you.

Steven gave you a sweet kiss to your forehead before he moved his mouth to the shell of your ear.

"And if you still don't believe me... Jake and Marc want to have a word with you."

#moon knight #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant

[ellephlox]

Muted Dawn

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Summary: You get mugged in the middle of the night, but Matt isn't there to save you.

Warnings: mugging, canon-typical violence, swearing, injuries, physical/verbal assault

In mid-summer, the midnight air of New York had a surreal balminess to it. You wore a tank top and a thin red jacket on top, your suitcase rolling loudly behind you as you hurried down the sidewalk. Every crack, every pebble, every sewer grate — they were all thunderclaps compared to the otherwise quiet evening. The luggage was too heavy to carry, though, so it would have to roll behind you.

It was a long day. You'd flown out to visit family, and your return flight was supposed to be midday. It had been cancelled, though, leaving you to scramble for a layover that could get you to New York by morning. It was a complete shit show, and you'd had to sprint to your gates at the airport with this stupid shitty suitcase that you were half-tempted to just dump in the garbage.

Matt still thought you'd arrived in the evening. He texted you earlier that he had a case to work on with Foggy, and that he'd be up in the office plowing through work, probably until early morning.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you'd actually touched down in New York at eleven p.m. because that would be a surefire way to pull Matt out of work to meet you at the airport. Dragging him from his responsibilities — which were already too numerous — was the last thing you wanted.

So, solo travel in the middle of the night was your only option. You took the airport train to the nearest station, and from there took a train, and from there took another train that deposited you at 50th Street. Matt's apartment was only a ten minute walk, tops, from the station. Just a short walk. Too short to justify calling an Uber, mostly because you didn't exactly have a lot of money left in your wallet and your next paycheck wasn't for another few days.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump—

"Shit," you said aloud, staring between your luggage wheels and the sidewalk, which had switched from mildly smooth to practically cobbled. That didn't bode well for your plan to walk quietly back to the apartment. You snapped the handle down and tried to carry the suitcase again, but managed only to go a few steps before your arm felt as though it were going to break off. "Come on."

"Need some help?" The voice that came from the shadows was most definitely not Matt's, and goosebumps ran down your arms immediately. You didn't bother answering; it was always best to ignore anyone who tried talking to you on the streets of Hell's Kitchen. To regain some speed you pulled your handle back out — no sense in trying to be quiet now — and continued on your way, the thumps more rapid this time as you picked up the pace.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump—

"I asked you a question, darling." To your horror, mingled with the sound of your suitcase wheels smashing along the sidewalk were now footsteps, and a figure appeared in the corner of your eye.

"You gonna answer? Not very nice of you." He jogged in front of you, blocking your way effectively, and now you could properly see him. He was pale — practically pasty in the moonlight — and wore a sweatshirt so stained it might as well have been a used napkin at a greasy fast food joint. He had a beard, untamed and straggly, and despite the wild look to him that suggested he was hungry, he was big. Most definitely someone you didn't want to try taking on in a fight.

"Get the hell out of my way," you snapped at him.

"I want to see what's in that suitcase. It's making a hell of a racket."

"Sorry to disappoint." You tried to weave your way around him, but he stepped in front of you again.

Damn it. You suddenly regretted not texting Matt about your late arrival. If you had, you wouldn't be alone on the street right now — Matt would have been beside you — and this wouldn't be happening. Fear, potent and throbbing, swirled in your stomach like a dense fog. You felt like a wild animal, ensnared in a trap with nowhere to go. You glanced behind you; the street was just as empty and silent, with the few streetlights flickering menacingly as though about to burn out.

"Look, bitch, you want to do this the easy or the hard way?"

"I said, let me get by. I don't want any trouble."

"Trouble?" he said, then laughed, scanning you from head to toe. "You look like little Red Riding Hood. What're you going to do?"

"I can scream. People will come and you'll be in deep shit."

"You're a fucking idiot if you think that. These back streets of Hell's Kitchen are the furthest you can get from help, darling."

"Unless the devil hears me," you breathed out, depending on the hope that this man had heard of Matt's other persona. "Then I have a good feeling your legs will get broken. You heard of him?"

Except the devil wasn't out tonight. He was instead filing paperwork, far away on the other end of the Kitchen, and probably wearing a suit. Unless the man in front of you fell for the bluff... you were thoroughly screwed.

But the man pulled out a gun, which you had not been expecting. "Devil ain't out here. No one's seen him in a few days. Hard way it is, then. You scream, darling, and I'll shoot you between the eyes."

You froze. Never had you felt so helpless in your life. Your heart was banging against your chest like a frantic bird, trying to escape, and yet your limbs wouldn't move, for fear of that black weapon pointing directly at your head. "Please," you said finally, the word coming out in a rasp. "I just want to go home."

"And you can, once you gimme what I want." The man pointed the gun at the suitcase. "Open it up."

You trembled slightly. Should you try fighting him? Sure, Matt had taught you some basic self-defense, but this man had a gun. What could you do against that? Maybe you could try grabbing the gun, or kicking it from his hands, but... that was ridiculous. You had hardly any training. Most likely you'd end up falling on your ass, and then the guy would put a bullet in you.

No, your best chance was to comply. Slowly you bent down and fumbled with the clasp of the suitcase, your hands shaking so hard that it wouldn't open up.

"I said open it!" the man demanded, jabbing the gun against your temple. It was cold and hard, and against your volition you yelped, squeezing your eyes shut. When the bullet didn't come, you slowly opened your eyes, and resumed your struggle with the clasp, finally popping it open. Shame grazed your face as you opened the luggage to unfolded laundry and toiletries haphazardly thrown in; not that this man cared, but somehow you felt as though your last shred of dignity was chewed up and spat on.

Maybe Matt would finish his paperwork early and put on the suit. Maybe he could hear you, right now, and he was on his way, leaping across rooftops. But no one was coming, and you stepped back, allowing the man to root through your belongings. He stooped over the suitcase, his gun now dangling at your side. You eyed him. Though you weren't exactly fast, especially compared to Matt, maybe you could make a break for it, and at least get away. Your suitcase was a lost cause at this point, but frankly, you didn't care.

Do it. Now. While he's distracted. Before you could lose your nerve, you took off, terror burning in your veins and making you pump your arms as hard as you could. You were only a few blocks from home, not far at all —

But footsteps rang behind you, heavy and faster than you. You chanced a look over your shoulder, and hardly had time to react before the man behind you overtook you entirely, tackling you to the sidewalk. Pavement slashed and gnawed against your skin, burning white hot — your cheek, your knees, the palms of your hands.

"Never run away from me like that before I'm done," the man said, in an almost childish way, as though a toy had been taken from him. He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you roughly to your feet. "I'm not finished with you yet."

By this point, tears were flowing down your cheeks, and all sense of shame was gone. Nothing mattered now except surviving, leaving this man and getting into the safety of home. Desperately you thought of the couch, and the shower, and bed, places that had seemed so close just ten minutes ago and now felt impossibly far away. "Please," you begged him. "Please. Take whatever you want, I just want to leave. Please."

He wrenched your arm in response, twisting it back much farther than it wanted to go. You shrieked, thinking that your arm must be broken, but then he let go and slapped your face, right across the cheek that still burned from the fall.

"Quiet!" he said roughly. "Let me finish." He kept his grip on your arm as he bent down to return to the suitcase, and you were yanked off your feet, falling to the ground like some absurd doll in the hands of an aggressive six-year-old. You didn't watch closely what the man took, because your vision was too blurred, but a dazed glance downwards told you that your laptop, earbuds, and jewelry were gone.

"Where's your wallet?" he asked, turning back to you. You didn't question him at all and reached into your pocket, your fingertips searching obediently for the wallet. Where are you, Matt? The man wasn't patient, though, and plunged his hand into your pocket to take over. You stayed stock still, the feeling of his hand against your thigh more disturbing than you could have predicted, as he extracted the wallet, then your phone, and pushed you away.

"Now here's what's going to happen," he said, pulling the gun out again. "I'm gonna let you live, because bodies are hard to take care of. But if you try squealing, if you go running off to a cop — if you tell anyone at all, I swear I'm going to find you and kill you." He took out your license and read it aloud — your name, your height, your weight, your address. "See, darling, I know everything about you. And if I get a whiff that you've tried telling someone about this little exchange we had tonight, I'll come to your address, and I'll slit your throat. Got it, darling?"

You nodded violently.

"Now get out of here," he said, and shoved you one last time. You didn't hesitate, and ran.

He could have taken more. Your clothing, your bracelet from Matt that you wore, your body, your life. All those you still had. The things he'd taken were meaningless, just trinkets. Things you could buy again.

But this reasoning didn't comfort you at all, and the moment you were in the safety of the apartment, with the door locked, you broke down altogether. You could hardly breathe, and every two seconds you ran to the window to check the street, certain that you'd see that stained sweatshirt ambling along the sidewalk, or hear a sudden knock at the door. Your phone was gone, so there was no way to call 911 if you needed to. And Matt wouldn't be able to reach you, either. You wished, like never before, that you could have his hearing. The ability to know when Matt was on his way back, and to hear him coming down the sidewalk, would be infinitely comforting; even more so would be the assurance that you'd hear that man who mugged you if he decided to come to the apartment.

But all you could hear was the whir of the refrigerator and your own shallow breaths.

It was therefore a heart-wrenching shock when you heard the deadbolt unlock, maybe an hour later. Maybe two hours later, or three. You weren't sure; time was a vortex, or even a black hole, with an event horizon so monstrous that everything was sucked into it.

Matt's home. As if you were dropped into an icy bath, you suddenly leapt to your feet. You hadn't showered. Your clothing was torn at the knees, and that man's scent was probably all over you, not to mention blood was smeared across your face and hands from the scrapes. Not good. Not good at all.

You ran into the bathroom just as the front door sprung open, and you only caught the smallest glimpse of the storm cloud of emotion already on Matt's face before you slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it.

Why, exactly, you were hiding from him, when there was no doubt he could smell the man and blood either way, wasn't clear to you. Maybe it was the shame of him seeing you like this. He was so capable, so responsible, and to sense you on the floor like a puddle... it made you feel even worse than you already felt. Yes, you'd wanted Matt to save you, but it was too late now, wasn't it? Now you were just going to be another thing he had to take care of.

So, a shower it was.

Matt's fist pounded on the door. "Y/N? What happened?"

"I'm showering."

"It's two in the morning. I can smell your blood and your heart is flying. What happened?"

This time, it wasn't Matt asking, but the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. You could hear it in the low growl of his voice, the restlessness that simultaneously wanted to defend you as well as throw a punch at something.

"I'm okay, Matt. I'm okay. I just need a minute to clean up," you told him, starting the water. "Please."

"Y/N, if you don't unlock this door, I'm going to knock it off its hinges."

The thought made new tears spring to your eyes all over again. Your money — all gone. You'd have to cancel your credit cards now. And while you'd spent most of your money while visiting family, you'd had at least two twenties in your wallet — forty dollars, now gone, and forty dollars less to fix a broken door with.

Matt must have sensed the tears, because his next words were much gentler. "Whatever happened, you can tell me. I can—"

He fell silent. You peeled off your jacket, examining the scrapes on your hands briefly. Those would sting in the water, undoubtedly. Taking care of them was an imperative. Matt had a case to work on, and a city to save. The thought of him being preoccupied with your damn hands was enough to make you want to throw your fist into the wall with anger. Anger with yourself. How could you have let yourself get mugged? If you'd just called a fucking Uber from the station, then this would never have happened.

Matt said something on the other side of the door, too softly for you to hear.

"Didn't catch that," you said, as casually as possible. Priority number one was making sure Matt didn't know the extent to which you were freaked out.

"I said, who did this?"

"I don't know," you said evenly. It was harder than you thought it would be to keep your voice steady, when every instinct in you wanted to say it with a sob, and to curl back up on the floor. Standing was too hard, listening to Matt was too hard, simply breathing was too hard — every time you closed your eyes, the feeling of the gun against your temple returned to you.

There was a sudden click, and the door swung open. Matt had unlocked it, somehow, and you didn't have the energy to question how he'd done it.

His presence was like a live electric wire as he stepped into the room. You could feel the tension rising within him, threatening to spill over if you didn't give a name or a hint of what happened. You crossed your arms, wishing you'd left your jacket on, even though it didn't make a difference for what Matt could sense about you. The scrape on your face seared angrily and the fleeting thought passed through you that Matt could probably feel the heat of it just as clearly as you.

"I said I was fine," you said finally, keeping your voice controlled. "I told you I needed a minute."

"That doesn't matter when you're hurt. I need to know how hurt. Let me just feel—"

"Matt, please." You were shaking now, and torn between collapsing into his arms and never letting him know the extent to which you were absolutely petrified. Matt froze.

"Do you need me to leave?" he asked softly.

"I... no. I don't know what I need. I need..." A thrill of horror raced through you at the realization that you hadn't checked the window in awhile. What if the man was coming up the street now, on his way to break in and finish the deed with a bullet in your head? A bullet in Matt's head? You brushed by him and hurried to the window, squinting out at the dark.

Matt followed, and this time he didn't wait before coming up right behind you and cupping your cheek with his hand. It was gentle, but not a romantic act — you could feel the way his fingertips grazed over the scrape, accounting for the grit and sweat and blood that adorned it. Unable to bring yourself to move, you stood like a deer in the headlights as his hands then moved to your temples.

"No concussion," he said, but his jaw remained just as tight as he lowered his fingers to your own hands, breezing over them gingerly.

"These scrapes need to be cleaned." His face tensed as his hand hovered near your thigh. "Did he—?"

"No. No, I was just..." Mugged. It was too embarrassing to admit, and the word lodged in your throat. "Just some things were taken. Phone. Wallet. Suitcase."

"Jesus, at seven in the evening? Did anyone see? I want a name. A description. Anything. I'll find him and—"

"It wasn't seven in the evening." You dipped your head, tears welling again. "My plane was delayed."

You feared that he was going to be pissed, but instead he simply looked bemused. "Why didn't you say anything? I would've met you at the airport."

"Because you had work," you said, more stiffly. "And I know that me getting robbed looks bad, but I don't want to be your burden. Foggy needed your help tonight, not me."

"Not you? That's bullshit, Y/N," Matt said, and the electricity that had been buzzing in his movements finally exploded. "The reason I put on the damn suit anyway is because I care about people, including you. And you — you're above the rest, because I love you. Don't you see that? I need this, I need to find whoever did this, because if I don't, then I've failed you. I've failed myself, I've failed the city, I've failed my faith."

"Matt, it's not that serious. I overreacted, that's all."

"Like hell you overreacted. How do you think I felt when I left work and heard your heartbeat from two blocks away, racing like you were staring death in the face? When I got into the apartment and could smell your blood? When I came in here and could taste your fear?"

"I didn't ask you to sense those things," you snapped, and the moment the words were out of your mouth, you regretted them. It wasn't as though you could have simply elected to not see Matt that time he'd arrived at the apartment, torn up and bloody, or simply turned your head when you'd heard him yelling in the hospital as Claire stitched up his guts. In fact, it was impossible to not pay attention even more at times like that. Your mouth was dry as you shook your head. "I'm sorry, Matt. I don't mean that."

Still, he didn't get mad at you. "I know."

And it was that, his patience despite the energy palpitating in his fists that made you sink onto the couch, placing your face in your hands. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I... I can tell you what happened. It's just that admitting it makes it so much more real. It's humiliating."

Matt sat next to you, just shy of touching you. Waiting for your permission, likely. "Who was it?"

"Bearded man. Stained sweatshirt, really large — probably six foot four."

"Where?"

"Three blocks directly west of us."

"How did you get the scrapes?"

You closed your eyes. "I tried to get away. He tackled me. There was a gun, too. He kept it pointed at my head, and — Oh, God. He said if I told anyone, that he'd come here. He's got our address because of my license. He said he'd come here with the gun and—"

"Pointed at your head?" Matt's voice dropped to a dangerous low again, reminiscent of the devil. "You could've been killed." He got to his feet, stalking to the cabinet and unbuttoning his shirt.

"Matt," you said weakly, unsure of how to make the request for him to stay. He wanted to leave. He needed to let out the energy and protect, as was his standard, but you needed him to protect from here. The thought of being alone in the apartment was unbearable; you wanted him by your side, keeping you safe with his presence, not the mask.

"I wasn't there for you." Matt's fists were clenching and unclenching rhythmically as he stood in front of the suit, shirtless. Contemplating, or strategizing? You weren't sure. "I — if he had shot you — I can't—"

"Matt," you said again, louder this time. "I need—"

You were about to say "you" but the energy broiling in Matt's stance made you fall short. He needed to do this. You could be alone for a bit longer, you told yourself. "I need the bandages," you finished. "They're... not in the bathroom."

"They're under the kitchen sink," Matt said, and suddenly he turned around, his expression softer. "Let me help."

Inwardly sighing, you sat on the armchair, hugging your knees, while Matt cleaned your scrapes with a steady hand. He didn't say a word as he worked, his eyes darting about uncharacteristically. You still couldn't get a read on exactly what he was thinking. There was no chance he'd be angry at you, but that didn't preclude him from being disappointed.

How many other people would have been able to hold their own against that man? Everyone else in Matt's circle would have been capable. Frank, Jessica, Danny, Luke — they wouldn't have been even fazed at all. Elektra would have had a field day with him. Even Karen and Foggy had proved themselves quick to react in dangerous situations, and you couldn't help but think anyone in that situation other than you would have walked away unscathed. Your cheeks burned at the thought, as much as you willed them not to.

"What is it?" Matt said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.

Of course he'd notice the shift in your temperature.

"Maybe I deserved it," you said, a bit bitterly. "I shouldn't have been walking out there. Like you said, I could've called you. And I didn't. I could've learned more self-defense over the past few years, and I haven't. It's my own stupidity that's got me where I am."

Matt stilled. "You're blaming yourself?"

"I'm blaming my lack of foresight."

He resumed dabbing at your hands, and was silent for so long that you thought he wasn't going to answer. Finally, he said, "With that line of reasoning, then it's my fault Elena Cardenas was killed. I should have done more."

"That's not the same, and you know it."

He ignored you. "It's also my fault that Foggy got shot, that time we were in Reyes's office. If I had been listening more closely to what was going on down the street, then I would have heard the threat coming sooner."

"Matt, come on. You know what I meant."

"And it's my fault that Fisk got out of prison. If I had the wherewithal to kill him the first day I met him, he would never have—"

"Stop it!"

"Do you get it?" he whispered. "It's not your fault. We could preoccupy ourselves all day with the ifs that might have changed what happened. But you can't beat yourself up over the ifs that you couldn't have predicted. The bad people in this world don't get to benefit from your own self-degradation. Never take the fall for something they've done."

You let out a short laugh through the tears that caught in your eyes. "You give great advice, Matt, but you're terrible at following it yourself."

"Touché. Take off your pants for me?"

You smiled. "You really know how to sweet-talk a girl."

Matt brushed his thumbs over the corners of your eyes, exactly where they were still damp. "Well, maybe once your knees are cleaned up, I'll show you how it's really done."

You pulled off your pants and tossed them onto the couch. "You're not... heading out onto the street?"

"I'd rather be here."

You hardly dared to believe it. "You sure?"

"Positive." He didn't hesitate as he bent down onto the floor, methodically poring over the scrapes with the washcloth. "You're my priority."

A warm glow flushed through your cheeks, this time out of relief, and the smile that tugged at Matt's lips told you that he sensed it. You let him finish bandaging up your knees before you grabbed his arm and pulled him next to you on the armchair. There wasn't much space, but you lifted your knees so that he was partially underneath you, squeezed next to one another so tightly that you could feel his heartbeat.

"Hey," you said, after a moment. "How'd you unlock the bathroom door without a key so quickly?"

"It's an easy trick. Stick showed me years ago."

"Can you show me?"

"A good magician keeps his secrets," Matt said. At your frown, he laughed. "I'll show you tomorrow."

"I love you," you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I love you more than you'll ever know," he answered. You fell asleep to his hand running through your hair, the billboard outside rotating between hues of violet and cobalt, and the faint thrum of the muted air conditioner in the apartment above.

When you woke, you were in bed. It was still early; the dawn outside was muted. Matt must have carried you into the bedroom, because you had no memory of moving in there yourself. For a moment you feared he had taken to the streets, but feeling the warmth on your left, he was still there, and had been for some time. You shifted, trying to get nearer to his warmth. He said nothing but tugged you in even closer, his arms and legs thrown over you protectively.

What if you had been shot and killed? The thought was eerie. This bed would be empty. Matt would surely be out for the man's blood. And all this... you wouldn't ever get to experience it again. It was far too easy to take each day for granted. Far, far too easy.

One day at a time, then, you decided, and closed your eyes again as Matt's hand crept over your own.

#matt murdock #reader insert #matt murdock x reader #marvel #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader #mcu #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #hurt/comfort

[poisonlove]

Finally | Jenna Ortega

Prompt: Uno Night

pairing: Jenna Ortega x reader

Author: I know, is short

My eyes meticulously observe the surrounding environment, the atmosphere becoming tense with each passing second.

We were at Hunter's trailer, enjoying a pleasant evening until things took a serious turn: playing Uno. Georgie proposed a brilliant idea, each of us would stake $50, and the winner would take it all. The excitement was palpable until Hunter started dealing the cards.

In the first round, Emma was the first to be eliminated, expressing her disappointment as she angrily left the table with the lost $50. In the next turn, Joy, Naomi, and later, a turmoil caused by Georgie accusing Jenna of cheating. Finally, Hunter was the last to leave the competition.

Only Jenna and I remained.

The brunette stared at me intently, her brown eyes brimming with challenge and excitement. A small smile played on her lips, her tongue licking the lower lip as a sign of concentration.

Change direction

Jenna throws the card on the table, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The tension rises, and with a lump in my throat, I watch expectantly for the brunette's next move. My eyes see her hand delicately picking the penultimate card, her fingers long and tapered, utterly perfect.

Blue 7

I see the card she drops and shift my gaze to Jenna, the brunette looking at me amused.

By now, I was accustomed to Jenna's gaze: no shame, no concern if she embarrassed you. Jenna looked at me as if she could understand my feelings and thoughts with a glance, even deciphering the cards I held.

"Damn," Georgie mutters, watching the game intently, his knee nervously moving up and down. "Uno," Jenna says, smiling widely, the dimple on her face deepening.

My eyes soften seeing the joy in Jenna's state: a broad smile, bright and hopeful eyes. I had been in love with Jenna for a while now, enjoying seeing her happy, laughing, looking at me amused. During these weeks of shooting for the second season of "Wednesday," we spent a lot of time together off set: drinking, dancing, or watching movies in my trailer after a stressful day.

My eyes look at the plate full of money: $400. I bite my lower lip nervously. I divert my attention from the money, looking at Jenna, who was watching me, waiting for my move, with Georgie nervously by my side. The girls were chatting on the sofas, immediately forgetting their defeat. Hunter watched the game with crossed arms.

I look at Jenna again, who was looking at me with a small smile on her lips.

Despite my strong feelings for Jenna, I was also very competitive, and the prize was truly tempting. Sorry, Jen. With eyes brimming with mischief, I play my ace in the hole: +4. Jenna opens her mouth in surprise and looks at me in shock, Georgie smiling at my move.

"Uno," I say, knowing perfectly well that Jenna couldn't respond to my move as she was picking up the four cards from the deck. Nonchalantly, I play my last card on the table. I won. I WON. I smile widely and stand up from the table, Georgie happy for my brilliant play. "You're great," Hunter says, smiling widely, giving me a high five.

Jenna huffs and sighs loudly through her nostrils due to the bad defeat.

"Is that mine?" I take the money and put it in the back pocket of my pants. "Did y/n win?" Emma asks with curiosity from the couch, looking at me with a smile. "Yes," Jenna interjects, frustrated. "Another match?" Hunter claps his hands and smiles excitedly, Georgie nodding quickly.

"I have to go, guys," the brunette murmurs tiredly, a strange tone in her voice. Jenna gets up from the chair and puts on her jacket, her eyes giving me a quick glance before looking away and smiling at the others. "Tomorrow morning, I have to record," she apologizes quickly before walking towards the exit. "Alright… see you tomorrow then," Hunter says as he picks up the cards, shuffling them. "I'm going too," I mumble quickly, following the brunette.

I wasn't sure if Jenna was angry with me for the defeat; I knew she was extremely competitive. Jenna Ortega was known to be a determined, elegant, professional, and serious person for her work, but many didn't know that behind her mask of a cold and solitary girl was a child who pouted and grumbled about entirely trivial things, like tonight.

"Jen," I say quickly, catching my breath from the sudden run.

Darkness surrounds us, and a beautiful starry sky highlights the full moon. Jenna looks at me with a raised eyebrow, the jacket around her body to shield herself from the cold. The faint light from the moon accentuates her eyes that glitter in a spectacular way. "Hey," Jenna genuinely smiles as soon as she sees me.

"You're not mad, are you?" I ask quickly with concern. I walk more and stop in front of the brunette. "I lost $50," she starts, raising an eyebrow, biting her lip nervously, "but it offends me that you think I could be angry about this," she concludes, looking at me through her long lashes.

"Oh," I open my mouth in surprise, blushing violently for my stupid thought. "I'm sorry, tomorrow I'll make it up with coffee," I say, laughing embarrassedly, and Jenna analyzes me with her gaze, her lower lip trapped between her teeth.

You can't understand the longing I'm feeling right now to kiss her.

"Alright…" she says timidly, releasing her lower lip, smiling, "but to make up, you'll have to do more," she sings with a playful tone, and I smile at her gesture, getting lost staring at her magnificence. Jenna continues to stare at me, her eyes shining in an incredible way.

"So… goodnight," I say with embarrassment, hands in the pockets of my hoodie trying to warm myself, clearing my throat. "Goodnight," Jenna smiles sincerely and walks down the road towards her trailer.

Jenna stops in her tracks, turning around. I look with confusion as she retraces her steps, hesitantly approaching me. "You worried about me… it was kind of nice," she says, smiling shyly, her sweet eyes fixed on me. The brunette leans timidly towards my face, placing her lips against my cheek.

My heart races wildly against my ribcage, and all I could think was that I ardently wished for Jenna to kiss me on the lips.

(…)

"You're really into Jenna," Georgie says, chuckling softly, looking at me with mischief.

"Shut up," I retort with flushed cheeks, my eyes scanning the set for the petite brunette. I release a sigh of relief. I had two coffee cups in my hands, one for me and the other for Jenna. At 7 in the morning, I had read Jenna's message that she was already on set and that we would see each other later. Now it's nine, and I heard from Emma that Jenna's morning recordings were over.

"When will you tell her?" Georgie asks, lowering his voice, his smile fading from his face. "Soon," I say, smiling widely, knowing perfectly well that I'm telling a lie. "Are you sure?" Georgie looks at me with concern, searching for the answer in my eyes. "Yes…?" I reply, questioning? I'm not entirely sure.

"If you don't try, you'll never know the answer… at worst, you aim for other girls," he says with enthusiasm, his eyes trying to make me smile at his statement.

"I know," I say weakly, silently thanking my friend.

My eyes unconsciously turn to the right, immediately finding Jenna. The brunette was wearing her Wednesday costume, her attention on the producer who was telling her how to improve some scenes.

Jenna was simply perfect, even in Wednesday's clothes. Her braids and seriousness made my heart beat faster.

I walk towards her, and Jenna, smiling at the producer, sees him quickly moving away. The brunette shifts her gaze to the approaching steps and smiles as soon as she sees me. I give a small smile and notice her tiredness in her eyes.

"Hi," Jenna smiles widely, her gaze landing on the cups I held between my hands. "For me?" The question sounds surprised and sweet at the same time, her eyes sparkling playfully. Jenna chews her lower lip, looking at me tenderly. "Yes," I smile shyly, offering the cup to Jenna.

The brunette takes the cup, our fingers brushing. An electric shock runs through my body, and I think Jenna felt it too, as she looked at my hand. "Thanks," Jenna smiles with her lips against the cup, taking a sip. She closes her eyes for the pleasant warmth.

Georgie's words echo in my mind, and nervousness runs through my body. I knew I was risking our friendship… but the worst thing she could say is no, right? Forget it all, we laugh it off, and we continue as friends. "Jen, I…" I start, unsure. Jenna looks at me through her long lashes, her eyes staring intensely. I swallow saliva and try to find courage. "Do you… want to…" I stammer, a lump in my throat.

Jenna continues to stare at me.

"See you tonight? Maybe… for dinner?" I ask with curiosity, fear flowing through my veins. I release a sigh of relief, feeling like I had lifted a weight off my chest. Jenna looks at me carefully. The brunette remains silent, her fingers gripping the cup, her eyes looking at me thoughtfully.

"A date?" She says with curiosity, her eyes analyzing my reaction. I blush and look at Jenna with embarrassment. "Yes? If you're uncomfortable, it's okay just as friends," I confess quickly, scared. Jenna smiles widely and looks at me with bright eyes, almost relieved.

"You took your time," she says, winking at me, and I look at her with confusion. "What?" I say spontaneously, and Jenna rolls her eyes at my comment. "I've literally been flirting with you for weeks," she says smiling, amused by her comment.

"Oh…" I affirm with embarrassment, feeling stupid.

"Okay, at 8 at your place?" Jenna taps her fingers on the cup and looks at me with excitement, hope in her eyes. I nod with confusion, and Jenna smiles pleased. She takes a sip of her coffee and places it on a table near the set.

The brunette approaches and looks at me smiling, her eyes bright and sweet. My heart beats quickly against my ribcage, and I watch as Jenna gets closer to me, her hands grabbing mine tightly, almost as if she's afraid I'll run away. I swallow saliva, our noses brushing, breaths mingling. Jenna gently presses her lips against mine, pressing for a passionate kiss.

I reciprocate enthusiastically.

Jenna releases our fingers and grabs my neck, her fingertips holding the grip to get closer to me. I sigh during the kiss and place my hands on her hips, more as a support since I was afraid of fainting in front of everyone. Everyone. We're literally kissing in front of the whole cast, regardless of comments or curious looks.

Jenna separates our lips with a loud smack.

"So, tonight?" She says, smiling widely, lips swollen from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, the wig now a bit disheveled from the intensity of the kiss.

"Yes…" I say breathlessly, smiling widely.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #miércoles addams #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #jenna marie ortega #uno cards #cute #lesbian kissing #kiss #girls kissing girls

[waayfo]

i said, “do u think u’ll kill for me one day?” (yes, of course i will, my darling)

dottore x gn!reader. lyric from national anthem (demo). mentions of killing or murder / possessiveness / mentions of dottore’s real name / pet names / cursing / slight ?? yandere / ooc ( kinda soft dottore ). english is not my first language !

You know that Dottore, or your boss is a mad man who does as he pleases—at least that's what people think. But he always acts a little differently to you, which clearly shows favoritism. An act of favoritism that is certainly not left to some other people.

Other people try to take advantage, by asking you to make dottore do something. The most common thing that happens is when they ask you to beg dottore to release their newest prisoner (?) that became the subject of Dottore's experiments who is either their family or friend or partner.

And of course, you’re not happy with it.

You are not a tool to fulfill their wishes. And they were merely just strangers who suddenly came to ask for help, without repaying.

You are pissed.

But also scared at the same time.

Just now you came out of the room called the ‘sacred’ dottore's office. But a stranger who you guess is a new worker just by looking at his impolite behavior, suddenly grabs your arm and takes you somewhere.

“What the heck?!” You yelp. Ignoring the fact that the stranger's hands were shaking violently.

The stranger is now facing you. While his hand was still gripping yours tightly, to the point where you were in pain. "P- please help me!"

You let out a harsh sigh. "No, i won't help you. Thanks to your very impolite behavior.”

“W- w- wait! What do you mean?! This is urgent, and you must help me!” The audacity, you curse him in your mind.

“I said no!” Those three words managed to make him angry instantly.

“You—you should know your place! Is it because you managed to tempt The Doctor with your body and face means you can do whatever you want?!” You winced at his words, it felt like you were being stabbed by a knife, even though you know that it's all not true.

“If you will not tell that crazy man to free my friend—I will cut off your head, and present it to him.” You just looked at him in disgust thinking that he was a strange man. A disgusting strange man.

“Fuck off!” You yell at him.

Long story short, you managed to release his grip. But you couldn't help but notice the bruise on your wrist. You are increasingly annoyed and decide to end all this in an ‘inelegant’ way; using your heels, you stomp on his feet full of revenge. It should hurt a lot, you think.

And when you saw his reaction of pain and screaming, you immediately ran as fast as you could. Your body feels like it's on autopilot when you subconsciously search for someone you know too well— A tall and pale skin man, with light blue and slightly wavy hair, which makes anyone know his identity. And makes anyone afraid and even begs for mercy.

And there he was, standing straight with his hands behind his back like always.

“—tore,” Your breath hitches but tries to reach for his name.

“Dottore!” The man— Dottore looked at you quickly, as if he had been looking for you all along. He opened his arms, making room for you to fall into his embrace again. And you (will) happily return to his arms.

“Zandik!” You call his name once again, as if it were a spell that could make you happy for eternity. “Yes, dear?”

He lifted your chin, making you look up at him. His hand moved to wipe away a few tears that had fallen. Ah, since when have i cried? Why did i cry?

“What happened?” His calm voice made you shudder. You tightened your grip on his white lab jacket. And you know it won't cause him any pain.

You shake your head. "Nothing happened."

“Something happened,” His other hand, covered in a glove made especially for him, is now cupping your cheek. And his other hand, stroking your hair. “Am i right?”

The words are reluctant to come out and get stuck in your throat. You were too afraid to answer, too afraid to imagine what would happen to that stranger.

Silence enveloped the room. You only feel warmth, whether because of the heater in the room or because of Dottore's touch.

Knowing there would be no answer from you, dottore sighed. He placed you to sit on his desk. The desk was a little messy because of the papers, but there was still a place for you to sit.

Dottore's head lifted so he could see your face and what expression you were wearing right now— scared, with traces of tears.

His hand again rose to cup your cheek, then traced every curve on your face that he thought was beautiful. The touch felt strangely soft. Knowing that it was a touch from The Doctor— someone who had killed many people in order to achieve perfect experimental results.

And when he was about to hold your hand, he noticed something. A bruise on your wrist, a fucking bruise. That somewhat pissed him off.

“Who did this to you?” You can easily tell that he is angry, by the way he talks and the questions he asks.

“It’s— it’s just a random bruise i got—” “Stop lying.”

You were silenced quickly.

“You’re always been patient when other people try to take advantage of you,” Dottore's calm voice was whispery. If he knew about it all along, why did he continue to comply with your request?

Dottore closed his eyes for a moment, trying to connect the dots. “Someone asked you for help again? And you refuse, then they gets angry?” You nod.

“Is it a new employee?” You nod again.

“Tell me about them.” You told him straight away.

Dottore nodded. He noted it in his mind.

Out of sudden, you cupped Dottore's face. Cold, is the first thing that comes to your mind. Everything about him was cold, and so was his skin. You saw his pale face, but you couldn't guess what expression he had behind his mask.

As if he could read your mind, he took off the mask that covered part of his face. He put the mask right next to you.

“You’re not angry?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Why?”

“Because i touch you– i touch your face.”

“Foolish question. Absolutely no.”

Dottore's hand covered yours that was touching his face. Maybe dottore can see your cheeks are a little red right now. Maybe now that stranger is scared right now that you managed run away.

You kissed Dottore's forehead as a thank you.

“I'll take care of it quickly.” And you can't imagine what experiments Dottore would do to the stranger.

#konstelasiv fanfic #dottore x reader #dottore fluff #genshin dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore x y/n #dottore x female reader #il dottore x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin dottore #genshin hcs

[cowgirlcherrie]

CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST .ᐟ chapter three: LEMONHEAD ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+skater! ellie x fem! reader

a/n: hello my loves new chapter of CMIYGL which is one of my favorite chapters, is one setting focused and just good vibes that slightly become sour at the end. But sit back (it's a lengthy one) so enjoy babis

warnings/content: MDNI Partying, alcohol, drunkness, bruises (just skating injuries), kissing, smoking, lots of swearing, sexual jokes, petnames (babe, mama, etc), arguing, throwing drinks on people,

✧˖°.⤹masterlist. prev. next chapter

“Yo! Get the fuck off the front lawn!”

Ellie shouted at the group of stragglers surrounding the front yard of her shared house. It was typical for this to happen at the E.J.D residence. The trio couldn’t afford to get slammed with another fine knowing well enough that the last one was certainly not paid and their rather annoying neighbors would be vast to dial 9-11 like their lives depended on it. 

Now, this was not Project X.

but it was damn near close. The whiskey tasted better when it was sour. Tequila is better with lime. A beer? Just never mind leave it in the fridge. Jesse wouldn’t say he was a party animal, and neither would Ellie or Dina. Jesse was purely just a former child actor reject that grew to drown himself in partying and near-death experiences. Using his deep-webbed emotions to compensate for the fact that he never got to have a childhood of his own. Until the liquor ran dry and nothing suddenly mattered. He could crack his skateboard on his skull now and parties were an escape. 

There were no parties like a E.J.D party. 

The bass of the music was so loud, it could be heard through the cracks of the window and wood, seeping out the loosened edges – bouncing against the concrete. Ellie thought Jesse’s interpretation of a party to be very different from her own. She wanted a few friends meanwhile he invited half of LA and that half certainly brought a plus one; so really it was a majority.

You coincidentally, got separated from Cat, naturally inviting her on a whim for comfort. Her hand had gotten too loose giving some drunk girl the perfect opportunity to swipe her body in between the two of you, losing her face and her touch in the crowd. Your leather jacket was vacant from your shoulders, gracefully taken by Dina who briefly managed to whisk you off into the kitchen. You learned the rather strikingly beautiful girl to be one of the owners of the house. Flashing you a sweet smile and an arm squeeze. But like a puff of air, she vanished and was nothing but a memory. 

Now you were stuck in the kitchen. Bodies squeezing you in like a cage, loose alcohol tempting you and tormenting you for just…one..sip. To feel the carcass of the un-chilled liquid down your throat as it swirled and tingled at your chest. Burning heart aflame and the devil on your shoulder wrapped your hand around the red cup pouring vodka to the brim. 

You were on the hunt to find Ellie, likewise, the dark-haired roommate of your own.

Cat, on the other hand, took advantage of her solo moment. It was a great opportunity for her to briefly make conversation with Ellie and disappear into the neon lights like it never happened. Of course, this business pertained to you – no other reason for her to have a chat and more so one to keep it brief. She wants Ellie to do whatever it takes to make sure you weren’t a sobbing mess by the end of the night. Especially considering how deep Ellie would get into alcohol on a night like this. It was better she gave the warning now before she got devious.

Her stiletto-shaped nails, dug into Jesse’s shoulder as the man rocked his body slightly to the beat of the music. Vibrant Solo cup in his hand spilling onto the slippery wood,  Any stranger would have thought the conversation was serious between the two. Perhaps flirting, estranged lovers who had a history in the making. Cat played her game well.

“Oh! Jesse, It’s so good to see you! The party is phenomenal, how’s your mom?” Cat’s voice ran sweet like a tasty red velvet cupcake with too much additive sugar frosting. She was boasting to him. Flashing her perfectly braces-made pearly whites, pushing her boobs closely together in the black lacy corset top she was wearing — she could get the world.

“Awh– shit, Cat Pham. . . at my party? Girllll I haven’t seen your ass since senior year, braces are off too” Jesse slurred his words, similar to a town drunk at a liquor store. Hand reaching out to Cat’s lips to which she smacked them away hiking a smack to the side of his head.  His eyes were droopily low, almost like a sad puppy –  and he was smiling; Lost out of his mind. 

He was correct, after senior year happened, Ellie and Cat broke up – lovers departed and the friend group spread across California like they were fleeing the country. Cat knew he was the perfect one to ask.

“Mommy is great! You know she asked about you…she wanted more of your mom’s special recipes” Jesse smiled, if he was being honest he couldn’t feel his face but aside from the scrambled soup that was his brain he could tell he reached his high. Words piling out of his mouth almost like throw-up. 

“That’s great, Jesse. Where’s Ellie I need to speak to her?” Cat was quick to shut the boy up, leaning her body closer to his shoulder. Jesse backed away cheeks flushed. 

“Uhhhh” Jesse laughed “I think she’s outside I don’t really know” Jesse slurred again, pulling the cup up to his lips with a goofy smile on his face. Slurping the liquor like it was juice.

Clearly drunk Jesse didn’t know the answer. Making Cat sigh and roll her head with a soft POP of the air socket between her neck bones. 

“So did Rico’s Zumiez get any new hires?” Cat instead was bypassing the chit chat going straight for the kill. Attacking fill-in questions head first. 

“Uhhhh yeah like 3 I think. . . butttt Rico is sick Cat (burps) excuse me, his lungs are all fucked up from smoking, doctors keep having to pump his lungs free of liquid. We are closing soon, relocating somewhere else” 

Cat’s heart dropped at this information. That shop was dear to local skaters, even herself. Rico helped Cat start her business. The Italian man helping her build a tattoo portfolio is so great —  it would be hard for the businesses to say no. Rightfully so she got hired as an apprentice at Sooleyinks on Main Street. But she couldn’t do it all without him.

“I’m sorry . . .”

The climate was getting somber,

“No…No, Imma miss him for real, the new hires have been a pain in my ass won’t miss ‘em tho” Cat’s ears picked up at Jesse saying new hires. Watching as he eyed his drink, snatching it to ask another question. No minuscule distractions – she wanted to get head-on.

“Any of ‘em girls?” Cat whispered, almost holding the cup as leverage over the boy.

“Yeahhhhh. . . like one, why– trouble in paradise?” Jesse laughed pushing his hand’s palm flat against the wall. 

“No-god no everything is fine,” Cat reassures, swishing Jesse’s cup in her hand “Is she gay?”

“Pft, Alana? Helllll~ noo that girl is as straight as a fuckin’ pencil – at least so I think” Jesse paused quirking an eyebrow at Cat who only nodded her head with her lips slightly parted. 

“Let’s quit the chit-chat, I know Ellie likes y/n who is my roommate…” Cat blurted out making Jesse’s eyes widen his eyes:  pretend-shock – confusion filled his face. Responses delayed 

“SHE’S YOUR ROOMMATE?” The black-haired boy shouted, pretending to sound shocked, almost as if he didn’t know this knowledge prior “Oh~ . . . she’s your roommate~” he corrected bringing a hand up to his mouth. 

“You knew that didn’t you?” Cat pushed tilting her head at the boy in front of her.

“Definitely no—” Cat pinched Jesse in the stomach

“Ow!” 

“Okay! Yes I knew, I mean check her comments you were like the top comment on her 3 recent that’s why I liked them”

Cat cursed under her breath. Crossing her fingers and hoping that magically you didn’t see the comments on her pictures from high school that Ellie had left. She’d make sure to archive them when she had stable service. 

“Does she kn. . .” Jesse abruptly stopped speaking mid-sentence seeing the way that Cat was shaking her head in disappointment. Jesse quickly understood, even though he was drunk his brain tinted with nothing but incoherent la la la’s he was able to muster up the understanding that Ellie was cowardly hiding her way from even letting the words slip between her lips. 

“That’s why I am looking for Ellie” Cat confessed, waving her hands in the air as she spoke, slaming her matte cherry coated lips at Jesse who seemed rather distracted. His eyes focused past Cat’s head.

“Why…are you doing that?” Cat winced, turning around to follow his field of vision.

“Oh shit!” Jesse mumbled 

“Oh yeah…shit” Cat responded meekly, picking up the solo cup to her lips downing the rest of Jesse’s liquid. 

“This is bad”

The two were staring at you in the kitchen who had been touched by the graceful spirit of your crush who was nagging at your heartstrings. Pulling each muscle making it tense and release. Thumping matches the pace of the music — slightly louder. The auburn beauty gave a rather silly drunk smile at you as her arms hooked around your body like a mother cradling her newborn. You could smell her cologne, a clean scent barely almost there, musky with the faint smell of trees and a strong eucalyptus. Lips casting wet-sloppy drunk kisses to the side of your head as you leaned into her touch. 

“Pretty girl! You made it!” Ellie shouted in your ear giving another kiss emphasizing the mwah sound as her lips touched your head. Maybe it was the liquor in her system making her act the way she was, but she was certain, sober she would not be able to even glance at you.

Confidently, at-least.

“What…you thought I was gonna be a no-show!” You laughed, bringing the cup in your hands up to your glossed lips, lip liner shining astonishingly under the forever-changing LED’s. Ellie shook her head, watching as your lipstick stained the white lining of the cup, licking her lips in thirst. Sudden dryness filled her tongue — liquids disappearing as she wanted nothing more than a taste. She was thirsty — really, really, thirsty. 

“Whatcha drinkin’ ?” Ellie pushed, her eyes slowly staring into yours, her lips running against her bottom lip repeatedly. You could see her pupils dilated. Black circle getting wider…and wider against her green. Ellie gently brought her hand up to your cup, fingers wrapped around your own as she pulled it away from your lips. 

“Vodka, a splash of cranberry juice before some bitch snatched the bottle” You joked, sticking a tongue out: pretending to be annoyed at your luck and circumstances. 

“May I?”

Ellie pointed at your cup, her ringed fingers brushing against your bare ones, as she softly ran her thumb over your fingers. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled shaking your head ‘yes’ making Ellie push the cup away from its positioning at your lips. Twirling the cup around until it was on the side of your lipstick stain. Her lips rested in your lip imprint as she brought the liquid to her pouty-full lips wincing at the bitterness and pain after a single taste.

“This was nasty…yeah no we are getting you something better”

Ellie delicately intertwined her left hand with your own. Locking it with a tight squeeze of your left hand as well and pulling you behind her to walk. Her grip was different from Cat’s, it expressed protection and urgency. You knew she wasn’t going to let you go or let a drunk body come between you. Ellie reeled you into her back, using her free hand to reach behind her and caress the fabric of your skirt and pull you closer until your chest was at her back. 

She helped to slow your heart down. The faces of the dancing strangers faded away as all you could focus was on her. How she looked under the current purple and blue transitioning LED’s. Loose strands of hair flopped into her face. A fitted hat was on her head, vintage flat-brimmed, and turned to face the back of her head so the brim was away from her face; similar to the frat boy style. Her outfit was loose, baggy like you expected it. The 90s-fitted low-rise jeans paired with a GOLF WANG graphic t-shirt. 

You thought it was bold of her to wear white at a party where people suddenly had butter flingers, liquids quick to spill to the floor and even cling to fabric, alcohol staining as it settled. But shocking enough there was not a single stain on her shirt. It was clean — slightly wrinkled you could tell she didn’t iron but perfect enough. 

Eventually, your walking came to a standstill. In front of the alcohol table as Ellie gave a tap at your waist before letting both of her hands leave your being. Her hands spiraled around the scarlet solo cup. 

“You trust me?” Ellie quickly asked. Quirking an eyebrow as her eyes sparked. Almost diamond pure as her fingers were hovering over a big Casamigos Blanco tequila bottle. Her rings fiddling against the glass of the exposed bottle waiting for a response from you.

“Depends…” you shoot back, tilting your head as your eyes glanced over the Casa bottle. Knowing well the alcohol was considerable for the strangest of strange blackouts and would have one questioning how they even made It home come sunrise.

High risk, potentially blacking out; high reward, a good fucking time.

“You tryna get me drunk?”

“I think you are confusing drunk with loose. Miss Svedka drinker. You’ll be fine. I don’t think I pour that heavy…personally” Ellie shrugged, flipping the cap off the bottle almost like a mixologist. Pour a good amount of tequila into your cup “More fruity or more sour?” 

“Fruity…what kind of question is that?” You jabbed playfully, letting out a soft laugh escape your chest — natural and free as Ellie did the same.

“You didn’t drink beer, right? liquor before beer you’re in the clear. . .” Ellie ran the saying through to you waiting for you to finish the saying. Her mouth agape waiting for the words to pool out of your lips. Cementing her feet on the hardwood floors. She planned on going off to grab her personal favorite fruit juice from the fridge. Her delicacy to you. 

“Beer before liquor never been sicker!” You complete the phrase — Ellie nodding her head watching as you pretended to take your cup and imitate throwing up into it. “I don’t drink beer”

“Good, don’t” Ellie laughed, “I’m gonna be right back hold this for a sec” Ellie pushed the red cup into your hands. Not even giving you a full minute for you to register what she had said. 

You weren’t sure why Ellie personally treating you with a drink of your own brought chattering butterflies into your stomach. She was providing such care and rather you drink something better than something cheap off the table. Ellie never failed to be gentle with you — it was even more so now that there was alcohol involved in your exchange. It felt more intimate, more personal like a ball of energy building up between the two of you yearning for something to happen.

You couldn’t linger in your own thoughts for a second as Ellie returned with an Ocean Spray branded Cran-Mango juice. Ellie took the juice pouring another half of the cup with the juice. Briefly took the cup to her lips tasting where the Casamigos and Cran-Mango blended, the substance pooling in her mouth sending a gentle yet bitter taste against the buds of her tongue. Ellie took the initiative to pour more. Taking yet again another sip to taste test it.

“Okay…better” Ellie nodded wiping the dripping liquid from her lips with the tip of her ringed finger. “Here let me know”

Ellie handed the cup back to you, swinging the fruit juice in her hand in nervousness watching as you brought the drink up to your lips. The fruit carving the liquor far, not only blending nicely but you barely tasted it, and that was your kind of drink.

“Mhm,” you groaned out in satisfaction as Ellie’s lips curled into a smile. 

“Mmm, what. . .?” Ellie pestered, smiling at you sheepishly. Almost cockily with much pride.

“This is good”

“WOO told you, babe!” Ellie laughed, almost jumping in excitement. All your head could think about was her calling you babe. The way the words rang off her tongue, silky like satin blankets almost as if it was natural. Your cheeks warmed up from not only the chilled liquid in your cup but the feelings that were stirring in your stomach. 

“Let’s join the party now shall we, I hope you can dance” Ellie playfully nudged your shoulder as her body suavely swiveled around you taking hold of your hand, almost as if the two were made for each other. Her elbows were visible from her short-sleeve; bruised up, hues of purple and blue decorating her body like a roughened kiss.

“Bold of you to assume I can’t” you shot back, shouting over the music as Ellie head you to the basement where the main party was at. No Idea by Don Toliver blasting through the large speakers as the crowd bounced to the bass of the music, Ellie even finding herself rocking her body to the music as she dragged you to an open gap in the crowd. The two of your bodies against each other as she grabbed at your waist.

Occasionally taking a sip of the contents from your cup — not even bothering to get her own. The two of you enter a stage of blissfully drunk. A sip and the tug of your waist, slight pressure applied through her fingertips as the peak of the song arose. Ellie dragged her dreamy haze away from you as she heard her name being shouted repeatedly.

ELLIE! ELLIE! 

Her vision redirected to a group of skaters she skated frequently. 2 guys, drowning in their clothes, backpacks on their backs, and decks in their hands. Sneakers beat up as if they were ran over many many times. The guys waved the girl over pointing at a skateboard with the I.C logo on the back of the board. Your eyes, were almost like a worried deer looking up at Ellie whose body was frozen. Looking past you instead of at you. 

“I don’t think I ever told you, congratulations” You whisper, low enough for her to hear your voice as she leaned down for your lips to almost meet her ear. 

“Thank you” Ellie laughed, amidst her buzz giving a small kiss on your cheek. Her own was beet red, seeping through her freckles from the heat and the alcohol she was inhaling by the minute. Times like this Ellie was grateful for the lights being low to where no one could truly see how badly she was blushing under your touch. “Look I have to talk to some friends. . . if you want to come you can, but like -no pressure-like I get it if you don’t want to I’—”

“Ellie” you interrupted her

“What”

“You’re rambling” you blurt out making Ellie scrunch up her nose in frustration. 

“Sorry”

“N-no no, it’s okay…it’s kinda cute actually” you confess dropping your head slightly, feeling waves of embarrassment washing over you. Not being able to contain the emotions you were feeling. 

“So you’ll come?” Ellie held her arm out giving a flesh display of her tattoo in all its glory, the ink fresh and completed. You gladly took her arm into your own, flicking your hand up to gesture to her to lead the way and she did. Almost like a knight in shining armor, she guided you to the corner. Away from all of the people, the outskirts of the main crown that was less busy.

Daping up the skaters with a hug as they cracked their own jokes pretending to wack Ellie with the board. You took it these were her friends. That wasn’t of course Dina whom you learned with time, or her other roommate that apparently was Jesse. Their gaze shifted to you almost startled; gleaming with interest and attraction, but their smile was inviting. The men had buzzcut designs dyed into them. One with flames the other with completely red with a black spider in the center on the back, glimmering under the lights. 

“— Ellie you’re rude as fuck, whose this?” One of them suggested pointing at you as you clung to her arm. Ellie’s arm tensing at the mention of yourself “Uh—this is. . .”

“Y/n! Hi, nice to meet you all” Maybe it was the liquid talking, you suddenly had the courage to get everything off of your chest. Bubbly personality peaking right through. Your hand, naturally covered in bangles and small rings out for them to take. The smile on your glossed lips was charming, giving an invitation for anyone to be sweet to you. A Cotton candy smile. 

“Oh she formal” one of them whispered

“Keep her”

“I’m Oliver but you can call me OB, to your left is P.J and we hug over here mama” One of the guys opened his arms out gesturing for you to bring it in for a hug to which Ellie was quick to swipe her hand in front of you to halt you from walking.

“Yeah, she’s not hugging you” Ellie spoke up, pushing you into her side with her hands. 

Oliver put his hands down, rolling his eyes at Ellie’s sudden rough attitude. “So you skate or… what’s your deal?” P.J. this time spoke up taking a sip from his near-empty tallboy of twisted tea.

“Uhh…” you paused nervously laughing. “I’m from New York, just moved here for college. Learning how to skate thanks to Miss Hollywood over here” You joked tugging Ellie backward at her cap. 

“Ohh we got an east coast baddie in the house~” Oliver taunted making P.J give him a side eye.

“Dude you’re annoying —“

“No you—”

“Bitch I will—”

“Are you twins?” You question bluntly. The two stopped their bickering to look at you.

“What gave it away the hair? No, we just shaved our hair and got matching moles on our asses” Oliver said with a serious tone, his voice vacant from any emotion. Their eyes stared deep into your soul as he watched the way your smile faded.

“Oh. . .”

“Just playing with you mama, yeah we’re twins I’m the oldest by the way don’t listen to anything this knucklehead says” O.B confesses,

His statement made the group burst out laughing. Including yourself who rolled your eyes at their childish behavior. In times like this you thought about how people’s friends were often a reflection of themselves. Thinking back to why Ellie had a childish rebellious nature of her own. 

You figured O.B. and P.J. definitely played a part into her mannerisms.

“Oh Ellie I like them, she’s cool” 

“So. . .” P.J. cleared his throat and reached the board, setting the slender wood onto the hardwood floor of the basement.

“Wanna show us a trick?” P.J suggested, taking another swig at his almost empty can

Resting his foot against the edge of the deck, kicking it in your direction. 

Your head tilted to Ellie who was by your side, the redhead gave you a smile and a nod of encouragement. “Go ahead” Ellie whispered, carefully keeping her voice low to give you free reign to make moves. 

“Actually, we’ll teach you something — probably better than what your girl is showing you anyways” P.J. spoke up again watching the brief and small exchange you and Ellie shared.

“Oliver stabilize, let’s do a tic-tac, simple won’t make you crack your skull open. I imagine you are drunk?” P.J. questioned, quirking an eyebrow up at you. To which you nodded at him and he nodded back, the silent exchange brief but P.J.’s delivery was understanding.

Oliver was crouched down almost at eye level with the board, his hands at the edges of the wood, fingers gripping onto the grip tape. His fingertips were covered in bandaids, small scares going up his arm — clearly from one-too-many falls.

“Ellie you’re spotting, waist duty…puh-lease~” P.J. sang as he whistled standing in front of you in the corner. 

The music by now in the back had shifted from Don Toliver to Drake’s Nonstop. The crowd getting low to the music meanwhile yourself, Ellie and the skater group stood in the corner nook with the couches, often where couples would move away to break from the chaos of the main party.

It was spacious — a lot of room for you to do a trick and not have to worry about bumping your head, or hitting a coffee table for that matter.

“You skate goofy-footed?” Oliver asked, debating if he had to flip the direction of the boards nose. Seeing the way your face scrunched in confusion, O.B bit at his lips realizing he was asking the wrong person “Ellie?”

“No, she rides regular” 

“Ok so take one step on the board, both feet try to relax, do not put your feet together, you see where these screws are” P.J pointed to the screws at the bottom of the board the 3 at the left side and the three at the right.

“Place your left foot here,” his fingers pointing to the corresponding left screws “right foot over there” repeating the action. 

“You want your feet to be at your riding — standard position”

You took a step onto the board, as Ellie held onto your hips to prevent you from sliding. Your hands ghosting over hers, with a slight grip as you felt an odd shift at your balance with the sudden wheel’s beneath you. Ellie on the other hand was whispering a soft “I got you” repeatedly, her breath fanning against the back of your neck, just enough to give a shiver up your spine. 

Getting your feet comfortable, P.J and O.B cheered you on, like-wise other skaters who were sitting around clapping their hand against the back of the board, to cheer you on. You smiled sheepishly looking back down to Oliver at the floor who lifted a thumbs up at you.

“Okay great, you’re doing perfect! So now you are gonna push your weight slightly over the board bend your knees a little,” Ellie moved a hand down to slap at your knee making your body jump at the feeling of her sudden chilled touch. Implying to bend your knees to which you did.

P.J continued speaking, almost in full lecture mode, “because your hips are gonna rock, twisting at the nose of your board”

“Give it a try”

“You got it,” Ellie encouraged giving a slight grab at your waist, her fingers slightly bunching at the fabric. You slowly started moving your hips, Oliver letting go so you can try the trick. You were breezing through, feet moving at a great speed, hips at the right position — or maybe it was because of Ellie’s hands guiding you, but you were tic-tacing across the basement tile of the corner making the skaters in the corner cheer you on. 

“OKAY MISS EAST COAST” O.B shouted! As you stood up fully to clap, Ellie pausing you to lift you off the board spinning you around. Pulling your body into a hug as your feet met the ground. 

“Okay Lil’ Tony Hawk don’t get ahead of yourself now” P.B shouted playfully. 

“You should skate with us sometime, considering how good you learn and pick up these skills, we could use your energy at the park” O.B suggested giving you a gentle smile, meanwhile P.J nodded picking his board up from the floor. 

“I mean, if I’m not working the days you go I’ll totally check in” You smile giving the duo a fist bump. You looked beautiful under the light, the long saturated lights dawning upon you with delight as your makeup, soft and dewy glistened in the light.

You turned around to be face-to-face with Ellie, who cutely scrunched up her face at you, opening her arms slightly. Naturally you leaned your body in to give her another hug to which Ellie took it. Sudden adrenaline pumping through her veins, she was almost nervous that you could hear the faint beating of her heart. Not like she was complaining though. 

“Look at you my little rookie!” Ellie whispered lowly into your ear. 

“Making me look good n’ shit, you swear you never done this before?”

“Swear” 

“God you are amazing, I could just kiss you right now!” Ellie blurted out, with a slight rasp in her voice. It was too late for Ellie to take her words back, it felt almost natural as if this was everyday for her. With you she felt at home, and at ease. 

“You can, but I actually have to pee” you whispered back with a laugh, your head falling to hit her shoulder. Laughter raking through your body; almost shaking. 

“upstairs second floor and  first door on your right” 

“Thank you!” You smile briefly as you turn on your heels to walk away, “Bye guys you were fun, I’ll be back…hopefully” You yelled over the music as the skaters waved to you. O.B and P.J with the dorkies smiles on their faces as they watched you go.

“Good job mama! Hope to see you hitting the parks soon!”

You ran off to the stairs, your body disappear merging into the bodies of people. Ellie on the other hand let out a prolonged sigh looking at the boys in front of her, to which P.J and O.B were already giving her a knowing look.

“On your simp shit, she bad tho snatch her before your competitions grabby hands will” O.B. suggested pretending to be a crab claw with his hands and clawing his hands at Ellie’s shirt. Then making graphic imagery with his hands. P.J. laughed at his brother’s actions, Ellie only rolling her eyes at the twins. 

“Fuck you!”

“If you fumble we’ll never forgive you” 

⋆｡°✩౨ৎ✩°｡⋆

The bathroom was your escape for the moment. Brought you back to reality and grounded you from everything that seemed unreal, you were definitely sobering up from all that you drank. As your cup was discarded and tossed in the trash before your meeting of O.B and P.J.

Flushing the toilet quickly you made your way back to the counter to wash your hands. Tilting your head every now and then at the feeling of the pressure condensing in your head. Almost feeling airheaded and lightheaded. The post-drinking headache coming along swiping through you like the Grim Reaper.

Taking a generous amount of soap only to realize the pump was damn near stuck and the bottle was almost out, sucking your teeth in agitation, having no choice but to unscrew the lid and tap the bottle against your palm to get the soap out. 

Amidst the base of the music peeking through the vents and gaps in the bathroom, two voices were loud against the door. Sounded like an old couple in an argument. One voice is a lot softer the other one raspier and aggressive almost attacking the softer voice. Making your nose scrunch trying to screw your head away from being nosy. After carefully putting the top on off the bottle – and a terrible job of minding your own business you flicked the faucet up, warm-hot water gushing into the sink, as you washed your hands humming the tune of the song. Snapping a piece of paper towel off the roll and wiping your head dry, hitting the faucet with your napkin before throwing it in the trash.

You took a sharp inhale, taking in the fumes from the air-freshener of the wall, your hands entangled in each other as you looked at your appearance in the mirror.

Make up still intact? Check.

No broken nails? Check.

Outfit still fine? Triple check.

Drunk? Oh more than a fucking check. 

BANG!

You jolted, being brought out of your own thoughts as you heard the sound of a loud shove against the door, arguing you heard prior getting louder and louder. Tip toeing your way to the door, pressing your ear against the thick wood trying to hear the voices amidst the music.

“I told you to fucking tell her and you didn’t”

“Don’t piss me off I’m doing it!”

“Well you got 5 fucking minutes! Anderson walked through the door, if that gives you any motivation”

Who the fuck was Anderson? You pushed your head away from the door thinking about who the two voices could have been talking about. Now that you were listening – to which you definitely shouldn’t have, inquiry filled you. The voices were more feminine, one a little groggier than the other. 

“Like hell, I’m letting Abby touch her! Are you joking? We can’t do this right now and you said you would help me yet your fucking yelling at me!”

“I’ve had it with you! You didn’t grow at all you immature little—”

SPLASH!

You brought a hand up to your mouth in confusion as the water hit the door. Fortunate that you were on the other side, you looked down at your sneakers to see a sudden pool of water seeping onto the bathroom floor tile, traveling underneath the door. But that definitely wasn’t vodka, or urine either the mystery liquid slightly tinted brown. You heard a slight growl from the other side. It didn’t sound too good, at all. 

“You tell her, or I will you got 24 hours or this deal is done!”

With that, your hand reached for the doorknob unlocking the door to reveal two familiar faces near and dear to you. 

Ellie and Cat.

Like two deers stuck in headlights, the two stopped speaking to each other, to now face you in shock. Cat quickly tucked her solo cup behind her and threw it somewhere in the hallway. 

This time you took back your mental note about Ellie’s shirt considering the white fabric blend now was drenched in a brown toffee splotch at the center. 

“Y/n! I’ve been looking for you the whol—”

“Do you know each other or. . .” 

You looked at Cat, not missing a beat as you turned to look at Ellie. Ellie turned her head to look at Cat with pleading eyes. Smoothly going unnoticed by you as the two spoke up over each other. 

“No”

“No”

The two said at the same time, making you tilt your head to the left in confusion. They were rushing to say no simultaneously almost as if they couldn’t control the urge to say it, caught in a lie your head shouted.

Caught. In. A. Lie

 

Cat was looking at you with a wide smile. Masking the scowl she had when you opened there, almost as if there was nothing wrong.

“Explain your shirt then?” you nudged pointing at Ellie’s shirt. You were getting suspicious, head on the fox, whose slyness rather slipped – they got careless and now they were paying the price.

“Uh…”

“Some couple apparently was walking by if you heard arguing apparently Ellie, right your name is Ellie?” Ellie nodded as Cat continued “tried to break it up so they would leave and the girlfriend threw the drink accidentally hitting Ellie in the process. I was looking for the bathroom and that’s how I saw her. Small conversation” Cat smiled 

Her lie was clean, 100% believable considering her hands were free of any cup and she played it off as she didn’t know Ellie. Ellie’s eyes ran in disbelief staring at the girl as Cat gave a glance back almost screaming You Owe me!  

You also weren’t oblivious or ignorant for that matter deciding to leave it alone. 

“Uh huh…” you nodded as you prepared to step out only for Ellie to push you in, followed by herself, Wind catching your throat.

“Thanks for uh the help Cat, we need like a minute -thank you” Ellie’s back was turned towards you as she closed the door in Cat’s face, hitting the lock and letting out a breath before turning to face you with a smile. Her smile dropped upon seeing the look on your face. Almost as if you were lost in your head–stricken daze as your mind was talking but your mouth was not.

“You alright? You don’t look so well”

Ellie’s eyes squinted at how unsettled you looked. Almost as if you were about to vomit. Looking a little green. You weren’t sure why, but the butterflies you got when you saw Ellie transitioned to anxiety. Like something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Your stomach curls in knots attacking each other like a parasite almost as if you ate something bad. 

Something was wrong.

“Yeah. . .” You whispered breathily lying through your teeth. A hand shifting over to your stomach as a way to ease the sudden pain.

“Here sit”

Ellie tapped the open space of the counter of the sink you walked to the main sink. 

“You mind if I, uh…” Ellie pointed at her shirt, to which you shook your head. For a second giving the girl privacy, looking away from her undressing in front of you.

Ellie slid the shirt off of her body leaving her in a bright blue sports bra. Her body, rather fit was slightly bruised in some areas. Like her hips, or her back. They looked painful making you wince in pain. Ellie’s gaze followed your own as her hands touched against the messy hues of purple.

“Skate fails.” 

“You don’t take care of yourself?” you whisper bringing a hand out to touch the bruise making Ellie suck her teeth and hiss at you.

“As best as I could.”

Ellie prolonged a look at you. Grabbing onto your fingers to stop you from touching. 

Her mind was screaming kiss! Kiss! Kiss! With her face leaning to your own. She could smell the sweetness of your perfume. Like the perfect bite almost harmonic to her. Wedding bells singing.

Almost as if someone snapped their fingers in front of her face she jolted away.

“I’ll heal up jus’fine the ointment is working . . .I guess”

“You don’t give yourself any love,” You started, making Ellie’s heart grow softer. Growing paints made her eyebrows knit together in sadness.

“What makes you think that” Ellie kept her voice low, somewhere between a whisper and a mumble. Bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of her neck

You moved your body closer to the counter, leaning closer to where she stood, taking her arm into your own hands, and tugging her forward like a ragdoll. Ellie stood before you, hawk-eyed as you brought your glossed lips down to her arm applying a kiss to the disappearing bruise on her bicep. Triggering a response in her – Ellie abruptly jumped, chapped lips separated. This time you lifted up her wrist, kissing the edge of her knuckles.

“That’s how I know” 

Where her green met your very own, sparkles in her eyes, as her loving gaze couldn’t diverge. It reminded you of when she poured you the drink. An intimate moment but this time the two of you were alone and there was no one to stop you. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Ellie whispered softly, bringing a hand up to move your hair out of your face. The look on her face was almost guilty as if she now entered the emotional stage of her drunkness

“How do you know what I deserve,” you whisper holding onto her arm and giving her room to speak her mind. 

“You don’t know who I am” 

“I can learn, I-I Ellie, You can’t see what I see” you reasoned. It was almost as if Ellie was backtracking. Self-sabotaging for all of the soft moments you made. Wanting nothing more than to close herself off and be alone. She knew the minute she lied to you, and you still trusted her that she was no good. Ellie felt greedy sinfully taking a bite of something so precious and delicate that she was going to destroy it with her greed and recklessness. 

Maybe that was the part about liking someone and desiring them. For some time she thought she could never feel an emotion other than lust until she met you. You changed her greed, her desire, her energy vampire nature to be loved. She wanted to do right by you. And even so, she still failed, Cat was right, she didn’t change.

“You wouldn’t like what you see”

“But your different no? If we’re talking about pasts we all got one. It’s how we move forward that matters” you continue, almost lecturing the girl in front of you.

Ellie nodded

“I-...”

“Shh”  

The moment was tender. Silence fills the bathroom, the bass from the music filling the void where their voices would have filled.

“Your lips look a little dry” you confessed, making Ellie furrow her eyebrows, her eyes flickering to your own seeing the way the gloss shined underneath the bathroom overhead light. It was a total off- comment almost throwing off the vibe of the moment the two of you were sharing.

“What?”

“Wait lean in a bit more hold on,” Ellie complied – leaning further in her lips a perfect inch away from yours. 

Ellie felt her breathing speed up, eyeing your lips, trying to correct herself by looking elsewhere. 

“Don’t look at me like that” Ellie whispered, her voice low as she leaned in even closer turning the inch to a centimeter. Her lips almost grazed yours as she spoke.

“Like what?” you whispered tilting your head as you looked up at her through your mascara-coated lashes, orbs flashing innocence, and fake confusion.

It took no time for the two of your lips to meet, your glossed lips giving hers some moisture. It was soft, almost feeling as if you were falling through a series of clouds. Ellie gripped at your face, as you felt her cold rings against your face, hands moving up and down as they stroked your smooth skin. It was abruptly getting hotter than here. By now your hands reached up to the back of Ellie’s hat tossing it to the floor, as the kiss got deeper and deeper. Your body hit the back of the counter’s mirror as Ellie continued to take her time kissing you. Stepping in between your thighs, using her free hand to wrap your legs around her waist as she continued. Caging her in feeding into the temptation.

You let out a low whine only for Ellie to detach her head away from your lips, tightly gripping your jaw and your neck tightly as her lips were kissing the flesh of your skin. Wet messy kisses as her tongue was in swirls, peppering marks on your neck. Almost going in as if she was taking a lick at ice cream, trying to get to the center and devour the cone. 

Occasional moans left your lips as you continued to get drunker off the taste of alcohol on her tongue. Your heavy breathing was intense as she pulled apart from you, fixing your dress strap for you as she gave a swift kiss to your shoulder and collarbone.

“I want to give you more than a sloppy party kiss. . .”

THUD!

“Ayo! open the door I gotta pee!”

Ellie rolled her eyes at the voice, belonging to a man as she peeled her body away from yours. Putting the shirt in the hamper closest to the tub she dug through the bathroom closest to find one of the secret safety shirts Jesse stored in the cabinet. Sliding the fabric over her head as she turned to face you adjusting the shirt. 

You snickered, laughing at how ridiculous the slogan on the shirt was: “WHO ATE ALL THE PUSSY?” It read, as ridiculous as it sounded it was very suitable for her. 

“Nice shirt,” Ellie looked down at the words before looking back at you,

“Nice face”

You shook your head at her response hopping off the counter to refreshen yourself, you digging into your purse as she was doing her own thing. Digging through your purse you brought out a small bottle of Fenty-lip gloss, cherry tinted, applying the rich and sticky gloss onto your lips rubbing in security. Ellie on the other hand, finished her preparations, throwing her hat into the closet, now eyeing your tube of lip gloss.

“You want some?” Your voice ran sweet as you pushed her more in front of you. Ellie puckered her lips meanwhile you were pumping the gloss three times before applying the tingling lip gloss onto her own. Ellie hummed at the sudden cherry flavor.

Ellie’s scrunched up – almost as if she smelled something bad.

“Ouchh, what the hell is it supposed to do that” Ellie cried, almost throwing a tantrum like a child. Rubbing her lips together.

“Yes Ellie, it’s a lip plumper”

“I swear my lips are gonna fall off”

“You’re so dramatic”

“Argg — take it off!”

⋆｡°✩౨ৎ✩°｡⋆

Once you left the bathroom you ended up separated from Ellie. Jesse interrupted saying they were having a problem…yet again with too many people on the front lawn. Jesse shouted sorry at you repeatedly as he dragged her away from you. Ellie looked back at you twice, while you did only once. 

You thought now would be a good time for some fresh air taking in the sudden humidity that was so so much hotter in comparison to where you stood comfortably at the counter. You whisked your way to the patio. Finding yourself sitting at the steps. The cool air nipping at your kneck as you bask in your own warmth rubbing your arms upwards and down again – repeating this motion until you were satisfied.

Tonight felt like a fever dream to you. Kissing your growing crush, a great night out where you not only made friends but weren’t uncomfortable during the night. It seemed almost too good to be true. Until the thoughts of Cat and Ellie standing outside of the bathroom door set you off. You felt that nervousness bubble up in your stomach again as you dipped your head down to rest against the wood of the railing. 

Behind you, the patio door slammed open…before being closed again. The back area was vacant of bodies until the new one arrived. The smell of pine filled your nostrils, clean and fresh as the body sat next to you bringing a blunt to their lips –  scratched at their hair. A jacket, on their arms flashes of red and white making you fully glance at them this time. 

It was a blonde with a pretty smile and beat-up Converse like many of the other skaters there. Which led you to believe that she was probably one of them, probably a friend of Ellie’s as well. Oh, how you were wrong.

“Too loud?” Her voice was smooth and low, muscular build figure -- prominent she had to be about 6’0. She seemed like an enigma not even real, almost an angel coming to your aid when you needed help and that you did.

“Nah. . . just needed to clear my head, for a second” You whispered as you kept your eyes closed against the wood. The sudden smell of weed fills the aroma between the two of you.

“All fair, what’s on your mind? I’m a stranger but I can give you advice” The blonde spoke up again letting out a brief puff of air and blowing the smoke away from you. She dug into her jacket pocket pulling out a penny, the blunt resting between her lips.

“Penny for your thoughts” She suggested.

You took the coin into your hands.

“You ever feel like someone is lying to you [all the time,] like I have suspicions that my roommate and this current girl I’m seeing are up to something. . . like I wouldn’t say it's imperatively negative but like it feels like there's a secret and everyone knows but me.” You confessed, words spilling out of your mouth like you were in a therapy session. The girl took another swig of the blunt before speaking.

“If you feel like it is, then find out the truth. You seem like a smart girl, don’t be afraid to ask”

“I’m not afraid its jus—”

“You’re afraid.”

“And that’s okay,” the blonde continued as she now directed her full attention to you. The scar on her face was prominent against her cheeks, ocean eyes slightly large and almost silver under the moonlight.

“I think you’re afraid your suspicions are gonna be right. But even if they were, look at the facts and the integrity. Were they not telling you x,y,z to hurt you – antagonize you? Or protect you?”

“I’m not a kid, I don’t need protecting” you scowled, turning your once open body away back into the staircase, adjusting your body away from the blonde’s. 

“Didn’t say you were, but everyone needs protecting…including myself”

“Let me tell you a story,” The blonde shook the blunts ash out as she started to speak. “When I was in high school I was infatuated with my current girlfriend, before we started dating. I wanted her so badly. My friends knew I had a crush and even someone I considered my best friend at the time. So naturally I planned moves, and they swept her right away from me — kissed her. . . probably fucked her. I was so mad. I mean I still get riled up thinking about it – but that’s beside the point. Eventually, the truth came to light that my so-called best friend wasn’t as good as people said she was. Now eventually my girlfriend and I worked past it, but I always thank myself for checking the light-eyed bitches location and finding out everything I needed to go”

“See I trusted my gut and I think you should too”

You took in her words, mouth wide as she told the story “I’m sorry that’s fucked up!”

“What’s even more fucked is me being here right now because I shouldn’t even be in attendance”

“They here or something?” you pry  – hoping to not have crossed paths with this person.

“Oh they are here alright, just be —”

“Yo!” A soft voice shouts from the patio door a black girl whose hair was put up into a cute puff, stuck her head out looking at the blonde. You thought she was gorgeous, even down to her voice she was pretty. Her aurora was nice, fitting for the blonde next to you

“Let’s bounce, Jesse’s cutting people out”

“Yup! Alright, that’s our cue,” The blonde put out her marijuana stick, dabbing it into the wood of the stairs as she stood up fully with a stretch. “Listen, as I said – if you suspect something ask questions. Stop settling that’s how you fuck yourself over”

“What’s your name?” you shouted, watching as the girl was walking away from you with the girl who stuck her head out, who you presumed to be her girlfriend that she described in the story.

“Abby!”

“And good luck! Something tells me you’ll need it”

Leaving you with the sparkling penny under the moonlight.

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© cowgirlcherrie 2023

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[skyeslittlecorner]

Belphegor brainrot...?

I wanted to put together all crumbs about Belphie just like I did with Asmo.

We know Nilfheim is a something like a military hive mind. Nobles use swords or other melee weapons (the scythe is somewhat included in this), and since consistency is usually maintained, plus Bathin has a uniform resembling a soldier (we will talk about uniforms later), let's very roughly assume that it is, to some extent, a knightly country.

Okay I'll be honest, I'm just amused by the idea of Belphie as a mixture of Sleeping Beauty and a knight on a white horse lol.

I don't have a screenshot unfortunately, but Satan during Halloween event said Beplhie don't like tedious work (even if it's just a signing.) Expected. He's embodiment of sloth after all.

Actually, I can relate.

It looks like Gusion and Bael could shake hands. But Belphie is there, he really does a lot when he's out of his cave. It is not without reason that it is said that lazy people are the best employees because they will get the job done in the fastest way.

Looks like his Majesty is flirty! A big point in my opinion, because for me he seemed cold and distant. I was afraid that we would be too similar to Leviathan, but I guess that's not the case.

He doesn't sound like this decision bothered him at all. I don't know how to interpret it, so I leave it here out of chronicler's duty. And to please the eyes, look at my pretty boy!!!

But... that's it. That's all. So, I have found a related topic to rabmle about.

Nilfheim boys what's wrong with you?

We only know two, only recently three of them. Gusion, Bathin, Andrealphus.

And I guess they have a different definition of military than us.

Two of the three are like, "hey, have you seen that unicorn in the green cloak? This one who is never in his country? Great idea!" and yeeted themselves from Nilhfeim.

He just. Randomly visited Earth. Because why not.

Honey, you don't. Although… you're the devil. *Hands AO3* Have fun!

We are fresh from Andrea's escapades to Avisos. We know that he spends a lot of time there and from the screenshot above we also know that he doesn't really need things like his king permission to be happy.

Considering that Bathin is friends with Stolas...

...aka his personal radio, I'm sorry I can't get over this lol, it is very possible that he also often visits Avisos. Beel, you are tempting nobles from the next country and you are not even in your own country.

Bathin? Andrea? I understand that in a sentence "The devils of Niflheim almost never move individually" you are the "almost". Two of the three known. A known majority. They are hopeless.

And you know what? The third one isn't any better.

Yeah. Who in a MILITARY COUNTRY would wear a uniform. Well, no one normal. Let's get back to those uniforms, this time for real.

We already know that Gusion doesn't bother with such bullshit, so we don't know if what we actually see is the one times he wears something he should wear all the time. (I guess we do and he just doesn't have a jacket.)

Bathin has a uniform, but it's from Paradise Lost. It is possible that his appearance refers to this and not Nilfheim, as we know that other devils associated with foreign countries, especially Buer, but also Sitri, have appearances related to the latter country.

Andrea seems to be the most reliable. But who knows? He wanders where he shouldn't, do you think he would care about his uniform? Plus… A wing? And a halo? Exactly.

Ultimately, I would lean towards uniforms of nobles that look like hitmans. Just like someone described Andrea in the event.

At least one thing is right. The devils of Nilfheim are unnaturally strong, even by their standards. We all remember how Andrea abused every angel in his path. Even the big guy who seemed to break him like a match. No, the big guy was shaking like an aspen under his feet as Andrea happily dismembered him. As we can see, Gusion's sword also proves his strength.

Even some of Nilfheim's lower devils seem to have great fighting skills. Not all of them, of course. One is a fish.

We have the least information about the countries of Asmo and Belphi, but we have some coherent idea about Abaddon thanks to the nobles. Nilhfeim? Nope! Funny country. I can't wait to visit it.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb belphegor #whb andrealphus #whb gusion #whb bathin #whb theory #whb nilfheim #overanalyzing #I am impressed by everyone who reads this spam of mine #mwah a kiss for you

[ajwild220]

Newt x Reader - May I braid your hair?

The sun shown down brightly on my back, causing beads of sweat to form under my hairline and along my forehead and soft earth enveloped my hands, getting under my fingernails. I gritted my teeth in effort as I once again pulled against a stubborn weed that had taken its home amidst the growing tomatoes.

The green color stripped onto my hands as I strained, the stem rubbing mercilessly against my palms. I took a breath, licking my salty lips and I blew my Y/H/C hair out of my face again. I would not be bested by a stupid weed. I glared at the tiny leafy thing, unfortunately for me weeds couldn’t be killed by looks alone. With a final great tug, the weed finally released itself from the earth. I landed on my rear end with a grunt narrowly avoiding smashing the next row of plants.

“You ok over there? You need rescuing from squash or something?” I heard Newts teasing voice a few rows over. 

“Very funny” I rolled my eyes somewhat playfully as I still sat in the moist earth. I couldn’t help but grin upon hearing his self-satisfied chuckle, although I’d never admit it.

I casually tossed the vanquished weed into my pail from my place in the dirt, panting a bit from the heat. I rubbed an itch on my face with the back of my hand, only resulting in dirt mixing with the warm dampness of my skin. It seemed quite tempting to sit here the rest of the day, hiding from the blazing sun underneath the leafy green plants, but before I could consider it, I heard soft footsteps, and a head of golden hair popped up from above me.

“Slacking off on the job I see.” He grinned brown eyes twinkling as he stood leaning on his shovel.

I playglared up at him blowing my hair out of my face, “I just pulled a very strong weed thank you very much.”

His eyebrow raised playfully “I don’t see any weed.” 

I grabbed a clot of dirt and threw it at him, he dogged. 

“Hey! Don’t get me all dirty.” 

“You deserved it. Besides you are already dirty” I grinned. 

“Well you aren’t exactly clean either, Love.” He was right of course but that didn’t stop me from sticking out my tongue at him. He started laughing

“So ladylike”

“Oh slim it you” 

Still chuckling he leaned his shovel against a post and gently stepped through the soft earth extending a dirty and calloused hand. I readily accepted and he pulled me up my hair sticking to my damp face and getting in my eyes and mouth. He looked on in amusement as I tried to spit out my hair but not get any dirt in my mouth or smear any on my already dirty face. When I finally accomplished this he just shook his head smiling,

“Time for a break.” 

He didn’t need to say it twice. I followed his lead easily through the rows of tomatoes, cabbage, beans, and the like, both of us careful not to tread on the growing plants. Newt led us over to a nearby tree where we had left some water and our discarded jackets. He plopped down out of the sun, his back to the tree, one knee bent and the other extended as he looked up, panting slightly from the heat. My cheeks were flushed and grimy, and beads of sweat dripped down my back and neck as I reached out for the cool jar of water.

Unscrewing the silver lid, I tilted it back and let the cool liquid flow down my throat and cool me from the inside out. I took a few more swigs adjusting myself to sitting on my heels as I tossed my wayward hair over my shoulder. Between the shade and the water, everything was much more comfortable, considering the sweltering day. After my next sip, Newt reached out silently asking for the jar and I passed it over. He drank just as deeply as I did pausing a bit to allow the liquid to do its work before he let out a contented breath. We sat in comfortable silence for a couple moments.

I started gently pulling at the grass beneath my fingertips, soaking in any small breeze that made its way under our tree. Newt had been silently observing me for a bit, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I didn’t really realize it until his sudden movements caught my eyes as he quickly stood, favoring his right leg. 

“Break over so soon?” I tried not to sound as disappointed as I felt.

“No, I just need to do something I’ll be right back.” With that he hobbled off quite fast, leaving me alone under the green canopy. I drank in these few rare moments of silence, gazing easily at the green leaves dancing above, even stealing the jar back from where Newt had left it and taking a couple more sips. When Newt returned swiftly his eyes were bursting with an idea. It was always that way with him, his brown eyes were so expressive you always had an idea of what he was thinking. He knelt down in front of me and waved me closer

“C’mere”

I furrowed my eyebrows confused. 

“C’mon love, sit.” He patted the grass right in front of him. Still a bit confused I more or less crawled over looking up into his brown eyes every so often to try to understand what he wanted. When I reached him, he said

“Now turn around and sit.” By now, I was horribly confused. “Will you just trust me?” I sighed and plopped down, awaiting further instructions. Now he seemed to hesitate before he asked, “Is it alright if I braid your hair? It’s been in your face all day and I thought it might be nice if you didn’t have to worry about it.” I smiled even though he couldn’t see, I could tell he had been thinking about it and gotten excited, but now that I was actually sitting here, he realized it might be a strange request. 

“Of course Newt go for it.” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice and he picked up on it causing him to loose any worries he could have had. However before he started something struck me “Wait wait wait! Newt!” 

“Yeah?” I dropped my head back to look up at him since he was kneeling directly behind me. 

“Your hands are filthy! You are not touching my hair like that.”

A boyish grin spread across his face as he waved his clean hands in front of my face. “I washed them already Love” he was clearly proud of himself. I returned his smile and gave a small laugh dropping my head back down. 

“Alright then, you have permission to braid my hair.” 

I sat there patiently as his hands firmly but gently tilted my head up my eyes now peering up through the green leaves. I felt him rake his fingers through to get out all the tangles from our already long day. As his finger hit a snag I heard him wince for me “Sorry” apology dripped from his accent. It was just a small pull but he was so careful, trying not to let it happen again. It inevitably did however, as is the nature of my hair, and his response was the same. 

“It’s ok Newt it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“It feels like it would hurt.” I can see his furrowed eyebrows and concerned face from his voice alone and it made the corners of my mouth turn up slightly. 

“Newt it’s fine you don’t have to apologize, I promise it doesn’t hurt.”

“Ok” he breathed.

Moment later he hit another snag. “Sorry!”

“Newtttt” 

“Oh that’s right! I’m sorry Im sorry I didn’t mean to—“ he huffed in exasperation and I burst out laughing. His head popped around my shoulder so he could look me in the face, his expression slightly taken aback but also a bit teasing.

“And what are you laughing at?”

I tried to regain my breath amidst all the laughing. 

“You!”

“Me?” He feigned surprise.

“Yes you!” 

“I feel like I should be insulted” he laughed, grinning as he returned to running his fingers through my hair. My laughing calmed down as I enjoyed the delicate flow of his fingers once again. His fingers caught one again and I raised an eyebrow at the silence, a grin forming over my face.

“Newt! Stop apologizing.”

“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted defensively.

“You did so, in your mind.” I dropped my head back to look up at him. His face was so absolutely horror-stricken I realized my guess was right. I started laughing so hard I fell over backward toppling into him slightly and falling onto the warm grass. 

“I just can’t win with you, can I, Love?” He had recovered a bit and sat chuckling at my state. 

“You really were apologizing in your head?” I wheezed. 

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “I guess you know me too well, what am I ever going to do with you.” He had leaned back on his hands, and the admiring smile he gave me made me feel a glow growing from the inside out. I managed to push myself back up still catching my breath as I looked back into his beaming eyes. 

“You sir,” I slapped the ground behind me to signal him closer, “can finish braiding my hair.” 

He sat up and knelt directly behind me once again, ready to begin braiding, and with a small smile in his voice, I heard a quiet “yes, Love.”

#Mazerunner x reader #The maze runner #Maze runner #tmr #the maze runner #tmr imagines #tmr newt #Newt #newt x reader #newt x you #the glade #thomas brodie sangster #Newt x reader he braids hair

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Clingy.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Wanderer x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Modern AU, Non/Con, Blood, Intimidation/Threats of Violence, Toxic Relationships, Emotional Abuse, Slight Financial Abuse, and Codependent Behavior.

[Part Two]

On your third date, your boyfriend-at-the-time demanded that you give him a spare key to your ‘shitty shoebox of an apartment’, despite refusing to so much as let you into the penthouse Ei had leased for him while going to a university a hundred or so miles away from the multi-story, marble sculpted, beachside mansion he’d reluctantly flown you out to when he got sick of listening to you ask why he still hadn't introduced you to his moms eight months into your relationship. That probably should’ve been your first red flag, but somehow, you’d persisted. He brought out your competitive side, like that.

He made you want to dig your nails in, plant your teeth in your neck, and refuse to let go. It wasn’t good for you, but nothing he did was good for anyone. That never stopped him from doing it, though.

You could only assume that this – Kunikuzushi, your boyfriend of eighteen months and your ex-boyfriend of one, splayed across the couch in your living room, the keys he’d never given back dangling from his ring finger and the phone you’d forgotten when you left for work that morning in the other – wasn’t going to be good for you, either.

You didn’t say anything at first. It was all you could do to groan, to shake your head, to pretend you didn’t see him or didn’t care long enough to throw your messenger bag onto the nearest chair and tear off your jacket. He’d clearly made himself at home. A textbook was open on your coffee table, a drink from the cheap, trendy café he’d always whined about having to take you to sitting half-empty next to it. He wasn’t looking at either, though, his attention entirely centered on your phone. You didn’t have the energy to pretend to be surprised. He used to like to go through your conversations and delete the contacts he ‘didn’t trust’ when you were together, too, but you’d been more willing to write it off as the cute-but-concerning tick of a jealous boyfriend, back then. You must’ve fallen out of practice after your breakup.

You opened your mouth, but he was ultimately the one to break the silence. “You know Ajax?”

You crossed your arms. “Why are you here?”

“I mean, I know you’re in the same microbiology course, but c’mon, him? The fucker couldn’t tell a proton from a nucleolus. Honestly, I’m surprised he hadn’t flunked out yet. Give it another semester - he’ll be gone by spring, I promise.”

“I didn’t say you could come over.”

“I texted you last night. Did you try to block me again?” You’d blocked him, then reported his number, then changed yours when he’d started using burner phones to drunk dial you in the small hours of the morning and leave disjointed, rambling voice mails about how well he was doing without you, how much time he had now that you weren’t pestering him, how many people he’d slept with since the last time you'd seen each other. All of it was bullshit, obviously, but it was his bullshit. Somehow, he always knew just how to get under your skin. “Scratch that – I’ll take care of it. I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to get through a month without my help.”

You grit your teeth. Swallowing as much of your anger as you could, you stepped in front of him, snatching your phone out of his hands and retreating before he had a chance to take it back. You were tempted to look at what he’d been scrolling through, see which conversation had gotten him so upset, but you forced yourself to turn off your phone completely, to set it down on the far side of your coffee table and think about something else. It’d take hours to fix the damage he’d done, to unblock all the acquaintances he didn’t approve of and the apologize to all the friends he'd insulted under your name. You’d rather get rid of him first, then try to fix everything he'd already started to tear apart. “Get out.”

He scanned over you, his eyes lingering on the wrinkles in your button-up shirt, the cheap material of your dress pants. “Y'know, if we were still together, you wouldn’t have to put up with that shitty job. You could just quit and finally move in with me.”

Once, you’d let him buy you a new laptop when yours gave out in the middle of the semester and you didn’t think you’d be able to scrape enough up for another before you next exam. It’d been a used model, already a few years out of date, and you swore up and down that you’d pay him back when you had the money, but he’d held it over your head for months, smirked and gloated and taken every opportunity to remind you how grateful you should be to have a boyfriend so willing to spoil his oh-so-unfortunate partner. He hadn’t let you pay him back. He hadn’t let you pay for anything until he’d gotten tired of playing savior and went back to acting like a brat, too desperate for your attention to care if he was in-charge. You doubt he’d be any more bearable if you actually moved in with him, if you lived in his house and relied on his good-will. If you actually depended on him.

But, rather trying to say any of that in a way he’d understand, you sighed, clenching your eyes shut. “It’s an internship and I need it for my major. Get out.”

His scowl wavered. “When did you get so bossy? This isn’t going to work if you think you can tell me what to do.”

“I’m not bossy, you’re just a prick. Get out.”

He sat up, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Cut it out. I’m not going to want to get back together if you keep acting so immature.

“I don’t want to get back together with you.” And then, gesturing towards your door. “Get. Out.”

If nothing else, that seemed to shut him up.

It took a few seconds, but eventually, he responded. There was an airy laugh, a thin smile, a certain air of hurt disbelief as he sat up. “You really aren't kidding, are you?”

You didn’t indulge him with a reaction. Rather, you watched with a pressed scowl as he pushed himself to his feet and stepped toward you. He was in his usually ‘too cool to try, but too bored not to’ get-up – ripped jeans and long sleeves striped in black and violet, half a dozen rings and bolts pierced into the curve of each ear and a belt from a brand you couldn’t name, but knew you were supposed to tacked on to further feed into his ego. He must’ve been here all day. His short hair was more disheveled than he usually liked it to be, and you could see more irritation in his dark eyes than you were used to, paired with a certain type of frustration that only ever slipped out when you managed to keep him waiting. You hadn’t, technically (you couldn’t be late to meet someone who you didn’t want to see), but you didn’t bother trying to point that out.

“I thought it’d be nice to see you after… How long? Five weeks?” He glanced down, starting to toy with something in his back pocket. “I thought we could order lunch, talk for a while, maybe watch a movie or something. Then, I don’t know…” His smile took on an apologetic lull, almost pleading. “Kiss and make up? It’s not like any of this is new for us.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been together for a year and a half, and most of that had been spent caught up in ear-splitting, tear-inducing, world-ending fights. He’d burn the notes you borrowed from your classmate, and you'd refuse to talk to him for a week. You’d decide you were over his constant mood swings and go on a date with the cute guy from your calculus class, and he’d mail a slab of raw meat to your best friend because, in his own words, ‘you couldn’t come up with such a stupid idea by yourself’. It wasn’t balanced, you would never be able to give as much as he took, but still. When he started yelling, you did too, and when he showed up at your door a few days later, his eyes still bloodshot from crying, you always took him back. Because he was Kunikuzushi. Because you loved him.

Because you knew he’d make your life hell, if you didn’t.

Which was exactly why you couldn’t just… kiss and make up, this time. Not if it’d mean swallowing your pride and letting him get everything he wanted.

You sighed, but kept your arms crossed, your expression stern. “I’m tired, Kuni. I don’t want to do this anymore.” You paused, bit down on the side of your tongue. “It’s not good for either of us. We’re not good together. I don’t want to pretend that we are.”

His smile wavered, but didn’t fall. “What do you mean, babe?”

“I mean,” You braced yourself, shut your eyes. “I think you should leave.”

At least he seemed to hear that. You watched with as little sympathy as you could manage as his grin cracked and fell away, as his shoulders slumped downward, as he let out an airy chuckle that cracked halfway through. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“We broke up a month ago.” And he’s been insufferable ever since. “And we’re not getting back together.”

Parted lips, glassy eyes. He raked a hand through his bangs, doing what he could to blink away the tears slowly forming in the corners of his eyes. This wasn’t new, and yet, you still found yourself struggling not to break, not to embrace him and mutter soothing nothings while he sobbed quietly into your shirt and wrapped his arms around your waist and, inevitably, ended up on his knees, his face buried between your legs as he made you cum until you forgot why you’d been mad at him in the first place. “Fine. That’s fine. Honestly, that’s great. I don’t know why I’d ever want to be with such a heartless bit—” His voice broke before he could finish. He made a half-hearted effort to wipe at his eyes, but that only drew more attention to the tears starting to roll down his flushed cheeks, only made you more tempted to pull him into a kiss and act like this had never happened. “Fine. If you’re really that sick of me, I’ll go.”

He pushed past you, starting towards your door. That was what you wanted. Kunikuzushi gone, your apartment empty, your life just a little less fucked than it always seemed to be when he was a part of it. You should’ve let him go. You should’ve stood there until he was gone. You should’ve let him leave.

But you heard another hitched sob, a string of muttered swearing, and something in your chest broke open. With a shallow sigh, you dropped your arms to your sides, forcing yourself to speak through clenched teeth. “…do you want a hug before you leave?”

Kunikuzushi glanced over his shoulder. “A hug? What do you think I am, a toddler?”

“It's the only thing I'm putting on the table. Do you want it or—”

You never got the chance to finish. His arms were already around you, pinning your arms to your torso as he buried his face in your shirt. You choked back your protests, forced yourself to fight the instinct to push him away, and in a few excoriating seconds, his hold on you loosened, his back straightening, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder and his lips pressing into your neck. There was a lingering8 kiss laid onto your jugular, then another to the corner of your jaw, but you didn’t bother to try and push him away. Instead, you only shifted in his arms, nudging at his chest. You’d gotten yourself into this, called him back when he was a few steps away from leaving. You only had yourself to blame. “I didn’t say you could—”

“I knew you’d change your mind.” A hand fell to the small of your back, the heel of his palm pressing into the base of your spine. “You always do. You always make the right choice, in the end.”

You opened your mouth, ready to remind him that you weren’t taking him back, but you hesitated. He was always weird, just a little too hostile, just a little too desperate to keep you close to him, but you didn’t trust the levity in his voice, the way his smile pressed into your skin despite how close he’d come to crying a few minutes ago. “I think…” You trailed off, bit down on the side of your tongue. “I haven't changed my mind. You have to—”

Something flat and stiff pressed into your back – the blunt edge of a switchblade. His switchblade, you realized, dredging up hazy memories of bandages wrapped around thighs and hollow promises that he’d be more careful, next time. You heard his nails drum against smooth metal, felt something cold and sharp cut into the skin above your shoulder blade, and you froze, your mind instantly going blank.

He laughed, the noise cracking and airy. Warm breath fanned over the crook of your neck, and he melted into you, nuzzling into the curve of your throat. “I love you.” And then, pressing the blade into your flesh. “Say you love me too.”

Automatic, robotic. The only thing you could spit out through grit teeth. “I love you.”

Another laugh – more giddy, this time, more eager. If he noticed your reluctance, it clearly didn’t bother him. The switchblade was pulled up to the nape of your neck, then drawn in a loose arch to your collarbone, the tip never leaving your skin. “I mean, yeah, obviously. That’s why we get to stay together, even when we’re at each other’s throats.”

He paused, burrowed into you. In turn, you were dragged further into his chest, but pushed away just as quickly, allowed to get just far enough to make it possible for Kunikuzushi to raise his free hand to the collar of your shirt and drag you into a clumsy, rushed kiss – too rough and too forceful for anyone but him to enjoy. His teeth scraped against your lips, his tongue dragging over yours, but he pulled away with a breathy groan, his pale cheeks flushed and his eyes still glossed over. “…you didn’t get with anyone while I was gone, right? You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

How could you? He hadn’t given you room to breathe, let alone get past anything more than a first date with someone new. Even when you’d been together (actually together, not fighting or on a break), he’d been so suffocating, so possessive, you’d never been able to get any further than heavy petting, oral, his body on top of yours and your legs wrapped around his waist before he said something you couldn’t brush off and the night devolved into something... less romantic. It was hard to be with someone like Kunikuzushi, someone who acted like they’d rather give up the air in their lungs than a second of your time. Even after a year and a half, it was hard to let your guard down around him when he seemed so willing to give you every reason you ever could've needed to keep it up.

You guessed you should’ve expected this, looking back on it. He’d was bound to get tired of waiting for you to trust him eventually.

This was just his way of letting you know that he’d never really needed you to, in the first place.

Stiltedly, you shook your head, and he let out a relieved sigh. “Perfect. That’s why we’re supposed to be together.” He kissed the corner of your lips, then your forehead. “You’d never hurt me.”

He didn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he took you by the hand – his fingers intertwining with yours as he turned and tugged you forward, moving to lead you further into your apartment. The switchblade left your skin, falling momentarily to his side, and for a few brief seconds, you considered trying to get away, jerking yourself out of your hold and running as far away as you could get from him and his fucking issues. You made a passing effort, but Kunikuzushi’s grip turned crushing as soon as you began to shift, and you gave up before he could break something more vital than your heart. He was between you and the door, you and your phone. He had a knife, a weapon. He had you, and until he decided he was done, he wasn’t going to let you go without a fight.

With little ceremony, you were drawn out of your living room and into your cramped bedroom. Kunikuzushi let go of your hand, but you didn’t have time to run before you were being pushed onto your unmade bed, before he was straddling your waist and pinning you to the center of the mattress. The knife was brought back to your neck, but quickly plunged lower, slid beneath your uppermost button and used to separate thread from fabric. Somehow, annoyance managed to overshadow your panic, if only for as long as it took for one rational thought to be followed by another. This was your nicest shirt, one of a handful you’d splurged on for your internship, but it wasn’t like Kunikuzushi would ever understand anything like that. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to, before.

The tip caught on the slight dip below your diaphragm and you winced, a few dots of red immediately seeping into white fabric. You winced, beginning to protest on reflex. “Kuni’, that—”

“I’ll take care of it.” Absentminded, only half conscious that he was speaking at all. He reached the hem, pulling his switchblade free and letting your dress shirt fall away from your chest and over your shoulders, as useless as it was embarrassing. “I’ll take care of everything when we’re done. Just sit pretty and keep your mouth shut for a while.”

Really, you could only wonder why you hadn’t dumped him sooner.

Your pants were next, slits carved into the material over your hips and ruined fabric torn away. He moved to cut off your boxers, too, but seemed to hesitate, to linger, to find the strength to pause just long enough to drag two fingers over your clothed slit and press the pad of his thumb into your clit. You hissed at the friction, but Kunikuzushi only smiled, dipping his head low enough for his lips to ghost over your collarbone, then the midline of your chest, then the tender spot just below your navel. The last was accompanied by a slight groan, throaty and deep. You did what you could to block it out. This would be better if you didn’t think about it, if you just imagined he was trying to win you back after a fight, that there was a wilting rose in his other hand and not a knife already stained with your blood.

It was almost a mercy when his hands finally slipped under the hem of your boxers, doing away with your last layer of protection with only a slight laugh and a lilting smile. You did what you could to relax, to lean back and close your eyes, but Kunikuzushi’s weight was an ever-present anchor to reality, only made worse as he shifted lower, as he pulled your legs apart and threw them over his shoulders. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into the inside of your thighs, his teeth ghosting over tender flesh as he sucked harsh bruises into whatever he could reach. This was his favorite part, by far. He’d always been clingy – possessive to the point of total, nail-biting, jaw-locking paranoia. At first, you’d been able to write it off as a sort of overeager enthusiasm that came with a new relationship, but he’d never stopped. He was always ready, always desperate to dig his teeth into your skin and leave as many marks as you’d let him – or rather, as many as he possibly could before you were able to pry him away. Even then, you’d tried to think of it as cute, just one of the quirks of your immature-but-loving boyfriend. Now, all you could do was hope it’d be over soon.

It took him full minutes to actually reach your cunt, for his tongue to lave over your slit. Instantly, you stiffened, clenching your eyes shut and attempting to ignore the heady sounds of his whimpering moans, the feeling of his tongue tracing patterns in your entrance. It was sloppy, messy, all drool and teeth and clutching hands, but warmth flooded into your core as the bridge of his nose ground into your clit, as his hands wrapped around your hips and dragged you that much closer to his mouth. Everything he did was dirty, but he knew you, knew your body, knew that you’d have to spread your legs as soon as his tongue thrust into you.

You arched your back as two fingers slid into your entrance alongside his tongue, scissoring you open while his attention shifted to your clit – his lips sealing around the sensitive bundle of nerves while he sucked gently. If he hadn’t been so vocal, it might’ve been more bearable, but no, he couldn’t seem to stop whining into your cunt, to stop sending waves of those awful reverberations from your clit to your core every time he whimpered or grunted or moaned. Before you could stop yourself, your hips were rolling weakly against his mouth as he nursed you through your sudden climax. When you fell limp, his mouth fell away, but his hand still cupped your pussy, his fingers still curling and thrusting inside of you.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t let up, not until you were crying out and clenching around him, not until you could feel the slick running down your thighs, soaking into your sheets. He didn’t stop until you were babbling – spitting out incoherent pleas for him to slow down before the overstimulation turned from overwhelming to agonizing. You were forced to endure another kiss to the inside of your thigh, the wet sound of his tongue running over his fingers, but he pulled away in a few seconds, finally letting you have just enough space to breathe. Even that was temporary, cut short by his lips crashing into yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, as little as you wanted to. You could feel him panting against your lips, and it was all you could do not to scream.

He pulled away abruptly, grinning. “You’re a virgin.”

It wasn’t a question, but you found yourself shaking your head, denying it on instinct. “I never—"

“You didn’t have to.” There was a peck to the corner of your lips, another to your cheek. “I know everything about you. Your parents were too strict to let you date in high school, and none one’s ever lasted more than a couple of weeks with you before me. Since you wouldn’t so much as take off your shirt around me before our three-month anniversary, I’m going to assume you weren’t a total slut before we met.”

You narrowed your eyes, shoving gently at his chest. You just needed space. You just needed him to get away from you. “So?”

“So,” he leaned in, his smiling growing that much wider. “I’m going to ruin you.”

It was something about his tone, the dark glint in his eyes as he leered over you. Your heart dropped in your chest, and very distinctly, something very large and very sharp began to crawl up your throat.

You started to shake your head, but he was already edging jeans downward, already freeing his cock – the flushed tip leaking precum in fat, white pearls. His weight was enough to keep you pinned down as he aligned himself with your entrance, as he traced the head over the length of your slit, and his eyes never left your face, your expression painted with heavy strokes of horror and disbelief. He never wavered, never blinked, even as he thrust inside of you, bottoming out in a single uninterrupted motion. Even as you cried out, the sound more pained than anything else. Even as you felt a single, warm teardrop fall off of his cheek and onto yours. You hadn’t realized you’d shut your eyes, not until you forced yourself to open them, not until you found him cloudy-eyed and grinning above you.

He was crying, again.

Huh.

You thought he would’ve given up on that, by now.

He wasn’t gentle. He’d never been delicate with you, but right now, it felt like he was trying to be rough, to pin your legs against your chest and split you open every time he moved his hips, every time he found a way to hit something deeper and more sensitive inside of you. You tried to scream, but your voice caught in your throat, strangling itself into something more akin to a cracked whine and a few broken whimpers. The stretch, the pressure was more than you could take. You couldn’t stop yourself – going rigid underneath him, your eyes rolling back as your mouth fell open in a silent, agonized cry. Your reactions, however involuntary, only seemed to spur Kunikuzushi on, his pace growing more erratic and his breath now coming in quick, shallow pants. No matter what you did, it just made him worse.

You could hear him talking, distantly – little mumbled tangents forming between thrusts. “You’re just so—” He cut himself off with a long, wordless moan. “We’ll do this every day, until— until you know you don’t need anyone but me. Then, you’ll love me, and you’ll never have to—” He thrust deeper into you, letting out a fracturing laugh. “And then, I’ll rip out your tongue and cut off your legs if you try to leave. We’ll always be together. No one will ever, ever take you away from me again.”

You weren’t with him. You didn’t want to be with him. If it wasn’t for his immaturity, his manipulativeness, his fucking knife, this wouldn’t be—

His knife.

Both of his hands were on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh, keeping your knees pressed into your chest. He wasn’t holding it. He couldn’t be.

Without daring to look away from him, you groped around the mattress blindly, your fingertips eventually brushing against something cold and metallic – his switchblade lying abandoned on the edge of the bed. You took it up before you could hesitate, gripping the handle tightly enough for the sharp corners to bite into your palm, for your hand to cramp and go numb by the time you found the strength to actually lift it up. You didn’t aim. You didn’t have time to, not unless you wanted to think about what you were doing, not unless you wanted to let Kunikuzushi win. Not unless you could—

The curved tip just barely made contact with the skin above his collarbone before you faltered, before he had time to catch your wrist in an iron-clad hold. You tried to let go of the switchblade reflexively, but his hand shifted to wrap around yours, to keep the blade pressed into his chest – applying just enough pressure to break the skin. “Do it.” Soft, drawn out, too eager to mean anything good. “I’d let you carve your name into me, if you wanted to. All you'd have to do is ask.”

You didn’t ask. You didn’t want to. You didn't want any of this, but Kunikuzushi pressed the blade in his skin regardless, letting out muttered confessions of love and loyalty as a thin red line formed in his flesh, as blood dripped down his chest and disappeared behind the loose collar of his shirt, blotting against the dark fabric. He guided your blade to his lips, next, making a small nick in the corner of his mouth before taking the switchblade out of your hand and tossing it onto the floor, out of your reach. It would’ve hurt less if he’d tried to hurt you, too, taken the blade to your skin after his own. If would've hurt less if he’d acknowledged that you’d tried to do anything at all.

You didn’t have much time to linger on that thought, though. He was already moving again, already making up for time lost by fucking into you like a man crazed. With no preparation, no warning, he jerked forward, his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you, as he forced his tongue past your teeth and smeared his blood over your lips. It felt like you were drowning in nickel, being slowly suffocated by some nameless, slick, oppressive force. It felt like you were choking, despite being able to breathe, to think as clearly as you’d ever been able to around him. It felt like you were going to die.

But, you weren’t. He’d never be so kind, he’d never let you have that kind of comfort, not when he was still grinding into you, not when his cock was twitching against the walls of cunt and he was groaning into your mouth without reservation. You could feel your poor overstimulated pussy clenching around him, your vision burning white around the edges as, for lack of anything more stable to hold onto, you wrapped your arms around his neck and raked your nails over his back, clawing into whatever you could reach. If he noticed, if he cared, it only worked to drag him that much closer, to leave him as deep as he could possibly be when he finally finished, when you felt something warm and vile flood into you.

He stayed like that for a long moment, silent and unmoving, his chest pressed into yours and his lips trailing from your mouth to your throat, settling just above your jugular. It was a small mercy when he finally pulled away and straightened his back, easing himself out of you and wiping the blood off of his face, his neck. You watched from a distance as he fixed his clothes, before pushing himself to his feet, never sparing you so much as a second glance. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Pack your stuff, and make sure you’ve gotten your shit together by then. I’m not letting a mess like you into my apartment.” He paused, lingered long enough to smile. With no sense of visible urgency, he walked to the side of your bed, retrieving his switchblade and kissing your forehead softly, gingerly, with a kind of tenderness you could only wish he’d found a few hours earlier. “I love you, babe. Even when you act like a fucking idiot.”

His grin pressed into flesh, cutting and cruel.

“And I’m so, so glad you’ve realized that you love me too.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere commission #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin imagines #scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #wanderer x reader #yandere wanderer #yanderecore #yancore

[seajelllies]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝟐 ♡︎ not quite, sweetheart masterlist ✎ roll call 1 ✎ roll call 2

"Don't get mad-"

"Every time you say that, my blood pressure rises."

He let out a long nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before clearing his throat. "I kind of uha, have to pick up some things for a project in one of my classes."

"Yuji," You frown, lifting your head from the textbook you've been staring so deeply at he swore you'd burn a hole in it someday. "You were the one who told me to come over to help you."

"I know I know, I'm sorry, I'll be quick, really." He mumbles apologetically. He felt bad, really, and you could tell from the way he kept his eye contact.

You look at the time on your phone for a second before glancing back at him with a sigh. It wouldn't hurt to just stay put for a bit anyways, since he bought you food and all. If anything, you could just continue studying on your own with less distractions anyways- you weren't the one losing any time.

"Yeah, sure that's fine-"

"Thank you! You're the best! I'll be back, I swear!" And before you could even fully finish your sentence he bolted out of the door, and you could hear someone yelp in the hallway- probably bumping into him in the process. You almost forgot he used to do track in high school- surely you wouldn't be waiting for long.

You let out a soft snort, shaking your head with a sigh.

The first thing Sukuna did when he opened the door, was grumble to himself, running his hand through his hair in frustration. Attending classes was annoying, even more so after he already stays behind at his job for 2 hours longer than he should have.

'I should just fucking quit.' His eye twitches at the thought- very tempting, but quitting meant no money. No money meant no classes. No classes meant no potential decent job. No potential decent job meant he was going to be stuck selling drugs again- which he'd much prefer.

But he can't subject Yuji to that kind of association. Detrimental to his future, or whatever he told himself to justify not taking the easy way out.

As he makes his way into the room, there's 3 things wrong.

One. Yuji's bag and jacket are here, but not Yuji. Sure, those two things don't always need to follow him wherever he goes, but he's gotten used to him just lazing around by the time he gets back.

Two. There's another bag next to his. Unfamiliar, just like the shoes that definitely do not belong to his brother sitting neatly at the doorway. Yuji doesn't tend to invite people over, he usually goes to hang out at Kugisaki or even Fushiguro's dorm.

Three. There's a stranger quite literally sitting at their shared table, head in their arms. He can only assume they fell asleep, because he was almost sure they'd turn around the second the door opens if they weren't. Who just falls asleep in someone elses dorm?

Especially on a table that he can't remember the last time was properly cleaned.

He walks closer, frowning as he shoves his hand in the pockets of his jacket. His eyes glanced down at them as he peered over their shoulder, trying to gauge how asleep they were.

"Oi." He sounded irritated and tired- mostly because he actually was, eye twitching at the unfamiliar guest that seemed to be quite comfortable just falling asleep here.

"Brat, wake up." He scoffs, kicking the leg of the chair lightly, hoping it would stir them awake. But it doesn't and their head stays still, the only sign of them even being alive was their body moving up and down from breathing.

"You've got to be joking." He groans, snapping in front of their head, trying to get them to wake up without simply throwing them off the chair. Calm. Calm. Calm. He had to stay calm, he can not cause another issue and risk getting expelled.

He was too tired for this.

He fights the urge to throw his phone at the wall, exasperated sigh leaving his lips again, his scowl deepening when he notices them adjusting slightly, their arms shifting so he could slightly see their face.

His eyes glance down at them, and he plops into the seat next to theirs, elbow leaning on the desk with his chin resting on his hand with an irritated frown.

How someone could look so peaceful sleeping in someone elses room, he would never understand. Especially a dorm with two college guys- were they stupid? Or maybe they really were exhausted, like Yuji said.

Strands of their hair fall onto their eyes, and he reaches out to move it before he catches himself.

He lets out another grunt, eye twitching when he realizes he was staring too closely at a random stranger, and he moves back, leaning against the back of the shitty chair- hands shoved back into his jacket.

But the feeling of the hair in their eyes seems to wake them up, lashes fluttering slowly as they blink to adjust to the sudden light. They seem to realize they aren't alone, rubbing their sleepy eyes as they turn to glance at him.

"Yuji?" Their voice was quiet, and clearly very exhausted. Hair still slightly in their face, eyes blinking in his direction in confusion

Cute. Almost.

"Not quite, sweetheart."

𝑻𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔!

︾ There was more writing than there were screenshots even though I told myself there wasn't gonna be as much writing to save myself the pain of thinking 🧍‍♀️ ;;sobbing

︾ Anyways I changed the title from what it was going to be originally and move it to chapter 3 because I feel like it'd fit better there! anyways grumpy sukuna is silly, he's so >:( but he'll warm up soon. probably. 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

︾ ik i already said this was fem/afab!reader but my dumbass brain kept writing they/them/their and i didn't realize till i got to the end. im sorry 😔

𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒍! the taglist

@sweetteez

#jjk smau #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk masterlist #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk texts #jjk fake texts #ryomen sukuna x reader

[afro-hispwriter]

SECRET

Ewan Mitchell, Tom Glynn-Carney, Matt Smith x actress!F!Reader(separate, not specified who, and they will only be referred to as He or his)

Summary- its a love behind closed doors

-

The premiere was huge, fans yelling, flashes of cameras and reporters trying to get the attentions of all the guests and cast. 

"Y/N OVER HERE!"

"Y/N GIVE US A SMILE."

“JUST ONE PICTURE.”

Your manager led you to a clear walkway where photographers were lining up. You posed for a few seconds, eyes searching the crowd, looking at only a few cameras.

You knew he was staring already. With those perfect blue eyes, the blue eyes that make making your skin burn, made your body burn. 

You locked eyes with him, but pulled away quickly.

You had to let him know you knew. 

Your manager then les you over to an interviewer.

“Hi Y/n how are you!?” She asks and you smiled.

“Im doing great thanks for asking.”

“So you’re officially a rising star and have been named one of the actresses with the most potential, how does that feel?” She asks and you take in a deep breath.

He was there, right out the corner of your eye and he was getting close. 

“Honestly it makes me feel really proud of myself, a lot of people said I wouldn’t make it but here I am.” You laughed awkwardly.

Closer

“Thats great to hear, now i have to ask. That kiss scene with-.” You immediately cut her off, feeling your body heat up.

“Oh yes, it was a very good kiss, my first on screen kiss, im quite happy it was him.” 

He was maneuvered past people and thats when he passed by you. Your heart started racing and you couldn’t help but turn around. That asshole was already smirking at you. But it couldn’t help but make you stammer.

“S-Sorry about that.” You giggle and she couldn’t help but give you a knowing look. Your manager pulled you away again for more pictures.

“Its time to take a picture with-.”

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you watch him adjust his jacket and set his hands clasped together in front of him. It didn’t take long until he saw you and opened a hand out in your direction. You slowly stepped forward and wrapped an arm around his waist, but he instantly pulled you into a friendly hug(from the crowds view at least). 

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” He whispered and you smiled into his shoulder. 

“Thank you and you don’t look bad yourself.” 

“Smile.” You turned and instantly posed with him. His hand that rested on your upper back had made its way down to rest on your tailbone, just above your ass.

“Careful.” You warned and he chuckled.

“I have always kept my relationships out of the media, I know what Im doing.” He says, having to lean down so you could hear. You walked together to another section. “Happy it was me?” 

“Hmm.” You say still looking out to the cameras.

“That I was the one who kissed you.” His hand snaked around to rest on your side making your breath hitch. “Lets go inside.” He led you inside, keeping a hand on your lower back. He guided you through the people inside, only nodding at them in greeting before pushing you into a more secluded area(that area being a storage closet).

“You sir are getting much more bold.” You smile and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Can you blame me?” He pulled you in closely and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Let me kiss you.” He pushed his nose into your temple before starting to put kiss down your face, getting closer to your lips. He changed direction and kissed behind your ear, making your stomach flutter. You turned your head and he smirked before pushing his lips against yours. 

You missed his lips so much

“We cant.” You mumble. “Not now.” Your threaded your fingers into his well done hair and his hands slipped down to grab yourself ass. He pulled back, letting your lips make a loud pop. 

“We should leave right now to my hotel room, order in, got that movie you wanted to watch.” 

“Tempting, I have an idea what we can do while we wait for food.” You looked him the eyes, giving him a sultry look to tell him what you mean. He bit his lip and your heard a deep groan in his throat.

“I like how you think.” He sealed your lips again and pushed you into the walk. He pushed his tongue in your mouth and let out a small gasp. He grabbed your ass again before lifting his hands and delivering a not so soft blow to your ass, making a slapping sound. You squealed and pulled away.

“Okay lets go.” You giggled and grabbed his hand and grabbed the door knob. He dropped your hand as you made it back through the crowds, putting on the innocent facade.

Secret relationships makes everything interesting.

-

A/n- first time trying something like this, send me a Ewan request 

#ewan mitchell x reader #matt smith x reader #tom glynn carney x reader #ewan mitchell #matt smith #tom glynn carney #house of the dragon #hotd cast #actress!yn #famous!reader #black!reader #ewan mitchell x black!reader #matt smith x black!reader #tom glynn carney x black!reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 10

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A message pops up on your Instagram. You open it with dread, a blank profile with some generic photo of a bookshelf. You already know it's him. 

‘Your aunt is very nice.’ 

You nearly drop your phone as you glance over at Jo. She sits with a cross stitch as she watches a rerun of Cold Case. You shudder and look back down at the screen. 

‘Why r u doing this?’ 

You hit the arrow as your sweaty hands stick to the silicon case. 

‘Why am I being nice?’ He replies. 

You can't. You stand up with your phone and your Aunt Jo peeks over with an arched brow. You give an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, I'll be right back.” 

You cross the room and pass the kitchen doorway. You lock yourself in the bathroom and look at your phone. You see three dots then they disappear. 

‘You followed me.’ 

He sends a rolling eye emoji. You nearly scream. What the hell? He's rolling his eyes at what? Stalking you? 

‘More than once.’ 

He sends a laughing emoji with tears. You huff. He's so confusing. Then a photo pops up, buffering before finally loading. 

It's Chelsea, well, the top of her head and she's… 

You want to puke. You can't believe he'd send you that. Does she know he took that? Even if she's a bitch, you feel bad. 

‘Looks like I'm all taken care of.’ He texts. 

‘Looks like you are.’ 

You turn your phone to do not disturb and lock it. He's disgusting. You don't even get what he wants from you. If he has Chelsea doing all that, why the heck is he texting you? 

You take your phone to the spare room, what was once your room, and leave it there. You don’t want to be bothered by him, even if you can’t shake the uneasiness stirring your nerves. You go back to the living room and sit down on the couch. You stare unseeingly at the television as the syndicated legal series drones on. 

“What was that, honey?” Jo asks, poking her needle up then pulling it through. 

“Work,” you lie, “um, they keep moving around the schedule or whatever. It’s... frustrating.” 

“Ah, that’s too bad,” she tug the thread to its limit, “you’re stressed. Maybe you should take a day off.” 

“Maybe,” you rub your forehead, “or get a different job.” 

“Could do,” she shrugs, “you know I’ll support whatever you do.” 

“Yeah,” you drop your hands into your lap and look at her, “I know.” 

You turn back to screen and try to hide your despair. Should you try to tell her about Andy? The thought’s crossed your mind a dozen times over. Your Aunt Jo is fierce and loving, she might just believe you but it’s not her holding you back. It’s him. He’s dangerous and he hasn’t yet shown you how dangerous. 

It’s better she doesn’t know. Not right now. You’ll have to deal with Andy. Just not tonight. 

📖

You grumble around the last mouthful of coffee. Another day, another shift. While Jo’s suggestion was tempting, you really can’t give up the hours. Nonetheless, you haven’t sat on your hands. Several applications were forward late into the night as sleep eluded you. Now you can barely hold your head up. 

It shouldn’t be very busy at opening. You can survive on an instant coffee packet from the breakroom. You yawn and grab your coat and bag. The snow puffs up around your boots as you step outside, shivering as you tuck your scarf into the top of your jacket. You pull your hood up against the frigid wind and tamp down the fresh powder as you come down the walk. 

As you get to the sidewalk, you stop and look both ways. Before you can cross and head for the bus stop, a horn honks, jarring you. You step back as a familiar car rolls up. You cross your arms, heart racing, and peek back over your shoulder at the safe hold of your aunt’s house. 

“Buses are behind,” Andy calls through the window as it slides down, “you’ll be late...” 

“I’m fine,” you sidestep to walk around the rear bumper and he shifts into reverse, blocking your escape. 

“I know your aunt didn’t teach you to be so ungrateful--” 

“Don’t talk about my aunt,” you snap as you turn back the other way and he rolls forward. You stop short and stomp your foot, “why are you doing this? Why are you bugging me? Chelsea--” 

“I don’t want Chelsea, she’s a slut. She’s easy. She gets the job done,” he sneers. 

You shake your head and blow out a cloud of warmth into the crisp air, “I’m sure there are other--” 

“You,” he says tersely, “that’s it. No one else.” 

You close your eyes and shudder, “I... I’m not interested... like that, Andy. I just was being friendly because it’s my job. Can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t understand,” he snarls, “I’m a lawyer, I’m good-looking, I take good care of myself and I could do the same for you. You wouldn’t have to work in some shitty bookstore.” 

You flutter your lashes and shake your head, “I...” 

“What? Why don’t you want me?” He leans over the seat further, glaring at you. 

“How old are you?” You blurt out, immediately sealing your lips in regret. 

He scoffs, “and how old are you? Bit over the hill to be in retail, huh? I know you’re not some college kid getting a few extra bucks. You’re a grown woman, your life is a mess. You need someone like me.” 

You huff, “I need you to leave me alone.” 

He clucks and sits up. The car idles in front of you as he sits silently. He grips the real and clears his throat, “I’ll be seeing you for dinner. Aunt Jo sure is sweet, maybe you could learn a thing or two from her.” 

The window rolls up before you can spit back a retort. The mention of your aunt flares in your chest. How dare he. You know it’s more than a snipe at you, he’s not saying her name for nothing. It’s a threat. 

He steers away down the snowy road, the snow packing beneath the weight of the car. You watch his headlights stop at the corner before you kick through the snow. Fuck. 

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #once upon a time #defending jacob #au #bookstore au #series

[ser-rctslcyer]

Pairing: Steven Grant x GN! Reader  Word Count: 1.1k Synopsis: It’s snowing and as usual Steven somehow ends up covered in it. However, this time he doesn’t have to deal with it alone.  Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love A/N: I’ve deeply missed writing about this show so here we go!

Snow poured softly down from the dark sky, piling up on the fluffy layer stuck to the ground. 

From the window you could see people rushing, trying to return home to their warm beds and hot food. You were glad to have left at your normal time, making it home before the weather had begun to get worse. Though you had worried for when your partners would get home as it was getting later and later; you wished his boss would’ve let him off early like he asked. 

After putting your stuff up and switching out of your day clothes; you fixed yourself some dinner as you turned the TV. on. Eyes stuck on the screen in front of you as your ears waited for the familiar sound of the door. The later it got, the more tempted to pick up your phone when the lock clicked. 

“Gods, it's fucking cold,” Steven whined; the shuts with an echoing force. You set your empty bowl down quickly, and you skyrocket out of your chair to embrace your partner.

“Hey Steven,” you pause your greeting; catching the upset look on his face and the silky white bits that covered his hair and shoulders. “Oh, what happened to you?”

“I was about to walk into the building, but of course, I was fumbling to get keys and didn’t notice how low the snow was dripping,” he grumbled, tugging at the remaining bits of snow from his hair and the scarf Layla had made them.  

“By the time I opened it, I already caught a bucket’s worth of snow,” he pouted, rubbing his hands together; desperate to generate any heat from them. 

“Aw, I’m sorry hon.,” you walked closer, clasping your hands around his to help warm them up.

“I was doing so well too,” his frown grew a little larger; his tired eyes looked more and more miserable. 

“I know, it happens to the best of us, sweetheart. Mother nature can be quite a fierce one.”

“I wish she wouldn’t.”

“Y’know, you kind of look like a little snow fairy, if that helps,” you add; earning a small snort for Steven. 

“I don't like being a snow fairy if it’s like this,” he answered, a little less gloomy than before. 

“C’mon, you guys practically dress like one to fight crime,” you jab, earning a hearty chuckle from him. 

“Marc says it’s not our choice,” he gently squeezes your hands.

“So then he agrees?” you raise you eyebrow and he shakes his head/

“He argues more like a ‘snow devil’ to our enemies.”

“Probably, but to me, you guys are my snow fairies,” you tease again, happy to see a genuine smile on his face. He only hums in response, swaying a small bit, a little flustered by the nickname. You take this moment to pull him closer, hugging him for the first time since he’s been home. Steven is quick to reciprocate, hugging you tight as you both stand there for a second. 

“Would you like a nice warm shower to feel better? I’ll make sure it stays warm in here so you don’t freeze to death for a second time,” you suggested, rubbing the lower middle part of his back soothingly. 

“Thank you, love,” he steals a cold kiss before properly putting away his bag and hanging his jacket. You take the time to turn up the heat, grabbing one of the few fluffy towels, and setting it in the bathroom. While there, you turned on the hot water, letting it heat to the temperature it was supposed to be. 

“All yours,” you move, to shift past him but he cups your face and kisses you. His lips are warmer than they were before 

“Thank you, again,” his eyes beam as Steven gives his signature goofy grin, before slinking into the bathroom. 

You bite your lip, your heart fluttering as you set yourself on the bed; a delighted grin on your face. The shower turns on and you can hear albeit very muffled the sigh of relief that leaves Steven. He sings a little cheer, at which you giggle before he continues the rest of his shower. The bed feels even softer than ever during this season, and you waste no time getting under the covers to finish off the rest of your wait. 

“Alright, I’m all set,” he glowed, much happier being able to feel fingers and the warmth from his clothes. 

“Hurry up and get under here before I take all the covers,” you jokingly tug them over your shoulders; watching Steven scramble to get into bed with you. He grabbed the covers and you let him take some of them until you were both comfortable enough. Steven reached over to the nightstand to grab his book, the one he’s been studying up on since the beginning of this week. You dropped your head to his shoulder so you could read as well, even though you’ve only picked up on parts he’s read to you. 

“Come closer,” Steven lifted up his arm, his hand beckoning you closer. You obliged him, of course, tucking yourself underneath his arm, and his hand resting on your hip.

“This better?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, kissing the top of your head. “So, much better than the cold,” he hummed as you grinned at him. 

“Glad I could help, sweetheart,” you kissed the underside of his jaw, catching his quiet sigh as he turned the page. 

As much as you wanted to enjoy the read with him, your body began to settle. The fight to keep your eyes open was useless, as they shut after the third long blink. The heat from him engulfed you; the darkness felt like a soft blanket, keeping you content and safe. The normal hum of the a.c. blurred into the background as you found yourself drifting away until you felt a small nudge. 

“Sleepy?” his voice was soft, enough so that if you had been any closer to sleep you probably wouldn’t have heard him. 

“You’re warm,” you mumbled surly, with your eyes still closed, “feels nice.” He chuckles, gently rubbing your shoulder before placing his book on top of the nightstand. He pulls you closer as he lays down fully, letting you rest on top of him. Tender hands rub your back, fingers sweetly tracing, luring you to sleep. His soothing was the added cherry on top, as you yawned, finally giving into the night. 

“Goodnight, snow fairy,” you manage to mumble out, as your mind floats away; your thoughts fading into the delicate embrace. Steven quietly beams at the name, delicately sketching a little heart over your back and rubbing over that area until you were fast asleep. 

“Goodnight, my love,” he grins, kissing the top of your head, closing his eyes, and dreaming of you both in the fluffy white snow.

#rct fic #steven grant x reader #steven grant x gn! reader #steven grant imagine #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader