Tumgik
#what have i done jeez this is cursed
quinzzelx · 11 days
Text
Eros
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Well....How do I put this. This is Porn with Plot. Filth, with a bit of an unhinged story. You're on a mission with Azriel. After an ambush, you get into a fight and find yourselves to be captured by some sick people. Word Count: 11K
Warnings: Smut, pure FILTH, a bit Angsty, Slight Dub!Con, Voyeurism, Canon typical Violence, blood, Mentions of Sex-trafficking, some type of sex pollen/potion, forced intimacy, porn with plot, 18+
A/N: Guys, I swear that I DID SEE the voting turned out to be Fluff, and I will be posting that one soon. BUT- please only read this if you feel comfortable with darker tones. I had to get this out here. Jeez, enjoy. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆
Sometimes, bad things happen. In fact, they occur all too frequently, by all the gods' reckoning. Azriel could swear he attracted bad luck like a magnet. But this? He cursed under his breath, feeling as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him.
He groaned, frustration evident as his hand ran down his face. Of all times for misfortune to strike, it had to be while he was on a mission with you. "What?" You snapped at him, your eyes squinted in concentration as you struggled to fix the sheath of your dagger. With a huff of frustration, the dagger and its sheath fell to the ground, clinking and scattering. You muttered something under your breath, wincing as you shifted on the log you were perched upon.
Azriel paced in the small forest clearing, muttering to himself. "For fuck's sake, Rhys!" he shouted inwardly, though it proved futile. Hours had passed since he first attempted to reach Rhys, to no avail. Either they were too far away or something was interfering with the connection. "I can't reach Rhys."
You snorted at his statement, rolling your eyes. "No shit, Azriel. If you could, he'd be here by now." His jaw clenched, his narrowed eyes landing on your hunched form still seated on the log in the center of the clearing. They trailed over your injured left wing, twisted at an unnatural angle. With an irritated twitch of his upper lip, his scowl deepened.
"If you had paid attention while flying, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said, his tone harsher than intended.
"Excuse me?" Enraged, you stood up and marched toward him, your face contorted in anger, a slight limp accompanying each step. "I got shot by a damn Asharrow coated in Faebane!"
"Exactly!" He snarled, taking another step to close the distance between you. "How did that even happen?" A humorless laugh escaped you as you met his gaze. "Are you serious?"
When his expression only hardened, your anger resurfaced. "Oh, you really are serious!" You swallowed the lump in your throat, closing the distance between you and jabbing a pointed finger at his chest angrily. "You!" you hissed between gritted teeth. "If you had actually listened when I said I needed a break, I might have been able to pay more attention!"
In fact, you had asked for a break numerous times. However, the group you were tracking didn't seem to consider breaks necessary. They had been abducting young females and males all over Prythian for months. When they crossed into the borders of the Night Court and ambushed a small village, Rhysand had dispatched you two immediately. Several days had already passed since you crossed into Winter, and now you were venturing into Autumn territory.
Azriel growled lowly, catching your wrist with his hand to prevent you from stabbing at his chest again. "You obviously shouldn't have come on this mission then," he said, his voice as cold as ice. For some reason, Azriel was always harsher with you. You had tried, really tried to make him warm up to you, but this thick-headed male infuriated you like no one else. There had been a time when you would have called him a close friend, someone you could confide in.
You had met Cassian and Rhys in Windhaven on the day they first established that Wingclipping was forbidden and never to be done again. You had always found ways to avoid it, making yourself sick with different herbs and mushrooms, because for whatever reason and little morals the Illyrians held, they didn't want to clip a sick female's wings. The irony was beyond you, but it worked for some decades. That day, your uncle had found you preparing the mixture that made you sick and unleashed his wrath upon you. He had dragged you outside by your hair while you thrashed and clawed at him, begging him to let you keep your wings, pleading for mercy.
As if the Mother had heard your pleas, Rhys and Cassian arrived just as a group of men were holding you down to make an example out of you. Taking advantage of their temporary distraction, you kicked up at the jaw of your uncle holding you down, breaking it. He howled in agony, clutching at the broken bone. One of his friends tried to punch you then, but you dodged him, elbowing him in the gut and headbutting him when he fell to his knees.
In that moment, you probably looked like the personification of pure fury, blood dripping from your split lip, broken nose, and dislocated shoulder. Still, you fought, not only breaking these men's frail egos but also their weak bones. Rhysand was angry, standing tall and making a strong example out of their behavior, executing them for their act of treason and hurling insults at him. He was the High Lord, and no one was to disobey his orders. Cassian tended to you, helping with your shoulder and beaming proudly at you. He started training you from that day on. They had seen your sheer willpower, strength, and potential. And potential indeed. These days, you wore not one, but three siphons. Yes, you still weren't as powerful as Cassian or Azriel, but you weren't weak either. The average Illyrian had nothing on you.
They soon took you to Velaris with them, where you quickly found yourself becoming one of Mor's best friends. Azriel was always wary around you, distant at first. But for years, you had enjoyed talking to each other. Only in the past four had he become distant again, seemingly even disliking you and your company. And you found yourself becoming resentful too. You could have lived with it if you never got along in the first place, but this sudden change made you angry at yourself for ever having a crush on this stupid male in the first place!
"Fuck you, Azriel!" you spat at him, your head red with anger. Both of you had been flying for three days straight, resting only twice. You had only spotted the arrow at the last moment, dodging it just as it was about to strike your head. But despite your efforts, it found its mark, lodging right into your shoulder. A second arrow followed swiftly, tearing through one of your wings. The pain was excruciating, and a strong gust of wind threw you off balance, causing you to crash into Azriel with full force, sending both of you plummeting towards the ground. Azriel momentarily lost his bearings, only regaining focus when you hurtled past him. With powerful beats of his wings, he caught up to you and wrapped you in his arms, but it was too late to slow the momentum. Together, you crashed through the trees, branches tearing at your skin before slamming into the unforgiving ground.
"I'm just saying that maybe Rhys has overestimated your capability," he stated nonchalantly, lowering his gaze to meet yours. Ripping your hand away from his grasp, you shoved at his chest, your voice snarling with rising anger. "Yes, I'm sorry to burden you. Maybe next time I'll just free-fall and accept death with open arms."
Without thinking, anger consuming him, Azriel growled, "Maybe you should." Any retort you had died in your throat. Wide-eyed and shocked, you took a step back, and only then did he realize the gravity of his words. His own eyes widened, filled with regret as he reached out to you, flinching when you dodged him and hurried to retrieve your dropped dagger. "Wait—I—" he called out, stepping toward you, desperate to take back his words. He cursed himself as tears pricked at your eyes. "No, I understood perfectly," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. With one swift motion, you shouldered your bag and walked toward the opposite treeline.
Azriel's heart clenched as he called your name again, pleading for you to wait, to let him apologize and take back his words. But you cut him off, saying, "I'll scout the surroundings, see if I can find anything useful," before disappearing into the woods. He cursed himself once more, sending some of his shadows after you. Splitting up was dangerous, especially when enemies were nearby. Defeated, Azriel sank onto the log you had occupied earlier, sighing heavily as he buried his head in his hands. "Rhys," he spoke again, reaching out to his brother, "We were ambushed, and I messed up." As he sat there, waiting, his hazel eyes scanning the darkening sky, he cursed himself again.
A while later, a twig snapped to his right, and his head whipped around. Had you finally returned? His shadows frantically warned of danger. Standing up, he gripped Truthteller tightly, ready to face whatever came his way.
"Behind you!" his shadows screamed, but before he could react, a blunt object struck his head, and a syringe found its way into his neck. With a grunt, he collapsed to the ground.
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Something was definitely amiss. Azriel's senses felt muddled, his consciousness drifting in and out like waves against a shore. Hadn't he just been... flying? No, he was on a mission. Flying, no, falling. A groan escaped his lips as dizziness overwhelmed him. He attempted to rub a hand over his face to clear his thoughts, but something restrained his wrists, pulling against his movements with a metallic clink. Groggily, he tried to pry his eyes open, but they felt heavy, weighted down by an impenetrable darkness. Panic stirred within him as he struggled against his bindings, the realization sinking in that he was not where he should be. Where was he? And more importantly, where were you? His brows furrowed in frustration as he tugged on his other arm, only to find it chained as well.
"Fuck!." Whipping his head around, an alarming feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Surveying his surroundings, he noted the darkness but discerned the wooden floor. Good, this meant he was either in a village or some kind of building. His arms were chained to the ground next to his body, where he sat leaning against the wall. Confusion swept over him when he realized his legs were relatively free to move. Chains wrapped around his ankles, but the chain was longer. He surmised he could walk around the whole room if he wasn't anchored to the ground by his arms.
His eyes continued to sweep through the dark room, gradually adjusting to the dimness as he squinted, attempting to focus on what lay on the other side of the room. At the other side of the room, a table gradually emerged from the darkness, its silhouette becoming clearer to Azriel's eyes. As he discerned more barely-there furniture, a sense of dread washed over him. This was no ordinary room. It was a torture chamber, though unlike any he was familiar with from Hewn City. Whips, clamps, syringes, and various other implements of torture adorned the space, along with devices he couldn't even identify. His gaze lingered on a table adorned with chain locks, clearly intended to restrain victims.
Chains were strewn everywhere, giving the room an ominous and foreboding atmosphere. What kind of place was this? The smell assaulted his senses—blood, urine, and something else, something sickeningly familiar yet repulsive: arousal. His stomach churned in disgust at the realization of the horrors that had taken place within these walls. He attempted to summon his shadows, hoping for their familiar comfort and assistance, but nothing responded. Faebane. His heart sank at the realization of the poison's presence. Determination fueled his actions as he tried once more to pull on his restraints, but a piercing scream from outside the room froze him in place.
"Don't touch me!" Your voice, muffled yet unmistakable, sent panic coursing through him. Gritting his teeth, he ripped and tugged at his chains with renewed force. Outside, commotion ensued, accompanied by the creaking of a door. The sounds of struggle intensified, punctuated by a sharp slap that echoed through the room, causing Azriel's eyes to narrow in anger. "She damn well bit me," someone exclaimed amid the chaos. More noise followed, and then the door swung open fully, allowing light to seep into the room as several figures stumbled in, three of them carrying your thrashing form. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he took in your distressed state. You were cursing at them, fighting back with every bit of strength you could still muster. His eyes quickly swept over you from across the room as they threw you onto the table with a force that elicited a loud crack.
His heart stopped then. Where were your fighting leathers? What sick place was this? You were dressed in a white, very sheer and drenched dress that ended just above your knees. One of them grabbed your thigh forcefully, and he saw red. Screaming at them with a hoarse voice, Azriel struggled against his restraints, his muscles straining against the chains binding him to the ground. "Leave her alone, you bastards!" he roared, his voice echoing in the chamber. But his cries fell on deaf ears as they continued their assault on you, their intentions horrifyingly clear. One of the many males in the room laughed at Azriel's futile threats.
"Don't worry, Shadowsinger, your time will come," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Azriel clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting at his inability to protect you. As they chained you to the table, Azriel's panic surged. Your hands were bound together above your head, your legs hanging over the edge of the table and spread, tied to each leg. The sight sent a surge of fury coursing through him. "What is this? What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice thick with rage and desperation. But his questions were met with only sinister chuckles from the assailants.
Your eyes met Azriel's, and something washed over your features—a mixture of desperation and fear. "Please," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion, "I beg you, not in front of him." Azriel's heart clenched at your plea, his gaze filled with anguish and determination. Despite his restraints, he struggled against the chains binding him, his muscles straining with the effort. "I won't let them touch you," he vowed, his voice laced with fierce resolve. Though powerless to act, his eyes conveyed a silent promise. The one who had spoken earlier chuckled darkly as the others moved to silence you, advancing with a gag. Your head thrashed around in a desperate attempt to fend them off.
Your body trembled, chest heaving, the wet white dress clinging to your form like a second skin, barely concealing anything. It left little to the imagination, the cold causing your nipples to harden as you fought against them, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your black wings, a stark contrast against the white fabric, remained spread out behind you, a symbol of your strength and defiance even in this vulnerable state.
Azriel's heart twisted with anguish as he watched their hands on your wings, holding you down, causing you to shiver and writhe even more. A soft whine and gasp escaped you involuntarily, the sound tearing at his soul. Fury contorted Azriel's face as he snarled at them, his anger palpable. "Dare to touch her again, and I will cut your hands off," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. But his threats were met with mocking laughter from the group, their disdain evident in their sneers.
"How would you manage that chained to the ground?" one of them taunted, their words dripping with cruelty. The group, consisting of about ten males and some females, settled a little farther away, some taking seats while others remained standing beside you. Azriel's rage burned hotter at their mockery, his muscles tensing with the urge to break free and unleash his wrath upon them. Your chest heaved, teeth sinking into the cloth they had used to gag you as you struggled against their restraint. Seeking solace in Azriel's unwavering gaze amidst the chaos surrounding you, your eyes locked onto his. "You see, we were kind of growing bored of watching High Fae," the male spoke again, his tone laced with malice. He was tall, fatter than the others, with grey hair and a posture exuding arrogance. Confusion flickered between you and Azriel as you listened. "You still haven't figured out what we do?"
Azriel's anger burned fiercely as he glared at them, his fists clenched in impotent rage. The male continued, revealing their twisted motives. They watched prisoners engage in sexual acts or forced themselves upon them, all while testing out new weapons, torture devices, and potions. They reveled in the power they wielded over their captives. "And when we found out the High Lord of the Night Court sent two Illyrians after us?" The fat, grey-haired man sneered, his voice filled with twisted excitement. "Well, well, it seemed like we're in for quite the treat. Illyrians are known for their stamina and prowess after all."
"You two especially are a treat to look at," the male leered, his gaze lingering on your exposed form with undisguised lust. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but anger burned brighter in your eyes as you glared at him. "Rumor has it," he began, circling around the table you were strapped onto, his voice dripping with malicious intent, "that Illyrian wings are very sensitive." He punctuated his words with a sinister smile, sending a chill down your spine. Azriel's eyes widened with horror as he watched the man's dirty hands trail over the delicate membrane of your wings.
A growl rumbled deep in his throat, but he remained trapped, his muscles tensed with the urge to break free and tear the man limb from limb. You couldn't suppress an embarrassed moan as the man's fingers grazed over a particularly sensitive spot on your wing, the sensation sending shivers down your spine and igniting a blush on your cheeks. Illyrians were notoriously protective of their wings; allowing someone else to touch them was considered a significant display of trust. The violation of this boundary filled you with a sense of vulnerability and violation, intensifying your anger and humiliation in the face of such blatant disrespect. The dirty male's gaze shifted back to Azriel, lifting Truthteller in his hand, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he brandished Azriel's own dagger.
"You see, Shadowsinger, we've got ourselves a little experiment planned," he said, his voice oozing with malice. Azriel's eyes narrowed, a cold fury simmering beneath the surface as he listened intently. "We've got this new love potion we've been itching to try out," the man continued, his tone sickeningly cheerful. "And we thought, what better way to test it than on our favorite pair of Illyrians? "Azriel's shock was evident, his voice laced with disbelief. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, but we are," the man chuckled darkly. "You and the lady here," he gestured toward you with a lewd grin, "will be our little test-subjects. One of you will get the pleasure of enjoying its effects firsthand." Azriel's heart sank at the realization of what they were proposing. He couldn't bring himself to do something so violating to you, not like this. Though he had harbored certain thoughts about you, this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. "I will not do that to her," he declared through gritted teeth, his voice laced with defiance and disgust. The look on your face was difficult to decipher, a mixture of fear, anger, and betrayal evident in your tear-filled eyes.
As someone approached with a syringe filled with a blue liquid, your breath caught in your throat. The cold sting of the needle piercing your skin sent shivers down your spine, your body trembling with a sense of dread. The male's smirk widened as he used Truthteller to cut the dress from your body, exposing your breasts and leaving you vulnerable and exposed before their leering eyes. The effects of the potion began to take hold, distorting your senses and leaving you in a state of heightened arousal. Your pupils dilated, your chest heaving with each ragged breath, and your legs trembling beneath you as the drug coursed through your veins.
"Lorsh," the man called for another male, summoning him to join their twisted game. As Lorsh stepped forward, rising from his chair with predatory intent, a sense of dread washed over you. "If our Shadowsinger won't do the honor, you can have her," the man declared, his words sending a chill down your spine. No, this couldn't be happening. You shook your head slightly, trying to fight against the effects of the potion as your gaze turned to Azriel once more, silently pleading for him to intervene.
Azriel's heart clenched with desperation as he watched the scene unfolding before him. He couldn't bear to see you subjected to such degradation, such violation. With a ferocity that echoed off the walls, Azriel's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Don't you dare touch her! I swear, I'll break your hands before I let you lay another finger on her!" His words dripped with a protective fury, his eyes ablaze with a primal instinct to shield you from any harm.
"I'll do it," he declared, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve, "but not at the expense of her dignity. I'll be the one." A sickening delight spread across the male's face as he licked his lips, relishing in the twisted power play unfolding before him. With a gesture, he commanded another to throw the key for the arm chains to Azriel, a malicious grin playing on his lips as he watched the exchange.
As Azriel caught the key, the man retreated, his voice dripping with a sickening satisfaction. "You see, these chains on your legs will keep you tethered to this table," he clarified, his tone filled with sadistic amusement. "But don't get any ideas about getting close enough to kill us. You won't succeed." Azriel's jaw clenched with frustration at the limitations of his movements, but his resolve remained unbroken. As Azriel hurried towards you, relief flickered in your eyes as you locked gazes once more. Stopping in front of you, Azriel's heart hammered in his chest as he faced the daunting task ahead. His mind raced with possibilities, seeking a way to ensure your safety amidst the chaos surrounding you. "You may do as you please with her," the male declared, his voice dripping with malicious intent.
Azriel's heart sank at the man's words, grappling with the limitations imposed upon him. "Can I untie her?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. If he could free you from the table, maybe you could fight your way out of this nightmare. If unchained, you could reach a weapon and turn the tide.
But his hopes were dashed as the man's cruel decree fell upon his ears. "No, you can free her from the table if you must, but you cannot completely unbind her hands," the man stated, his words a death sentence to Azriel's hopes. "They will stay tied together." The look on Azriel's face was one of pure sorrow.
Determination surged through him as Azriel clenched his jaw, bracing himself to make this ordeal as bearable as possible for you. With steady hands, he reached for the gag, untying it and freeing your mouth from its suffocating restraint. Next, he carefully loosened the straps that held your arms and legs in place, his movements deliberate and gentle.
As he brushed against your skin, a jolt of electricity coursed through him at the sinful sound of your moan. His heart clenched with both guilt and longing as the realization of the drug's effects washed over him. “I’m sorry.” Your apology only added to the turmoil raging within him, a bleak reminder of the violation of your consent. His voice trembled with uncertainty as Azriel locked eyes with you, his own turmoil mirrored in your gaze. "Is this okay?" he asked, his words barely more than a whisper, filled with a desperate plea for reassurance amidst the chaos. Your nod was barely perceptible, accompanied by a whimper that tugged at Azriel's heartstrings. "I don't mind if it's you," you whispered, your voice trembling with vulnerability and trust.
Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your words, relief and distress flooding through him. His gaze lingered over your exposed form, desire and guilt warring within him. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny the allure of your beauty, the vulnerability you displayed beneath him. Guilt washed over him as arousal stirred, his body responding to the primal urge.
Swallowing hard, he fought to rein in his need, guiding your hands from above your head to rest on your stomach. As he intertwined his fingers with yours, he felt your whine of anticipation reverberate through him, igniting a heat between your spread legs. "Look at me," he murmured softly, seeking to soothe you. "I'm here," he whispered, filled with reassurance. "I'll keep you safe."
But beneath the reassurances lay desire. "I'll make you forget they're watching," he promised, leaning closer, his breath hot against your skin. "In this moment, it's just you and me," he continued, a promise of intimacy amidst the chaos. "I'll show you pleasure beyond anything you've known." Each word dripped with longing. "I want to make it better for you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he leaned closer, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Tell me what you need."
As your body trembled beneath him, a surge of arousal coursed through Azriel at your vulnerability. "Touch me, please," you pleaded, your voice shaky with need. His heart clenched with longing as he resisted his own desires, focusing instead on easing your discomfort.
"It hurts, Azriel," you whispered, anguish and need evident in your voice. His own arousal forgotten, he concentrated solely on comforting you. "I'll make it better," he vowed, determination lacing his voice as he sought to ease your suffering and fulfill your desperate longing for pleasure.
Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you squeezed his hand, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault," you whimpered, self-blame and anguish evident in your trembling voice and quivering lip. Azriel's heart ached at your words, the weight of your guilt heavy upon him. "No, it's not your fault," he murmured softly, his voice tender as he wiped away your tears. "None of this is your fault."
Ignoring the sickening gaze of the others, Azriel clenched his jaw with fury. With a deep breath, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, his voice low and intense. "I will end them," he growled softly, promising to protect you at any cost. "Every last one of them." As he felt his powers surging back, an ancient energy thrumming beneath his skin, he knew he had to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment to strike.
Leaning back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, a smoldering heat burning in his eyes. "How do you want me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he sought to give you control in a situation where you had none. "Az..Need you" Face constricted in pure longing you sucked in your bottom lip. With a thoughtful expression, he trailed his finger down your trembling form, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. Lower and lower he traced, until he reached the boundary where the drenched fabric of your dress began again.
"Here?" he murmured, his voice husky as he gazed over your pubic bone, his eyes smoldering with heat. Your mewl of pleasure echoed in the air, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper of agreement, you nodded eagerly, your face contorted in pure longing as you looked up at him through thick lashes. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathy whimper, your body writhing under his touch as you surrendered yourself to him.
"Fine," he muttered, lust thick in his voice as he gave in to fervent longing. With a swift, almost savage motion, he ripped the last bit of the dress open, a low rumble escaping his throat. Your yelp mingled with a gasp of pleasure as your body was fully exposed to him, the sudden rush of sensation sending shivers down your spine. The air crackled with electricity as Azriel's gaze swept over your exposed form, his eyes dark as he drank in the sight of you.
Azriel's mind swirled with a tumult of conflicting emotions as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing patterns of guilt and desire on your trembling skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for the predicament you found yourself in. If only he had been more attentive, more cautious, none of this would have happened. But even as he berated himself for his mistakes, a dark, twisted part of him reveled in the power he held over you now.
As he watched you quiver under his touch, he felt a surge of arousal mingled with self-loathing wash over him. He was sick, twisted, and yet he couldn't deny the rush of pleasure that coursed through him at the sight of you laid bare before him.
Groaning in frustration, he narrowed his eyes, his resolve faltering momentarily before he forced himself to continue. Tracing a finger lower, he felt the tension in your body as you clenched your thighs, seeking relief from the overwhelming sensations that consumed you. But Azriel wouldn't allow it, not yet. With a growl, he forced your legs back open, his gaze fixed on your glistening core, evidence of your arousal under the influence of their vile drug. Deliberately, he brushed a finger through your folds, eliciting an intense reaction from you. Your body flinched, your core clenching around nothing but air as pleasure and pain collided within you.
A needy whine echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls as you squeezed your eyes shut in desperate longing. Azriel's eyes widened at the sound, his heart clenching with desire and fury. "Please, more. It hurts," you pleaded again, your voice thick with need. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to unleash his fury upon those who had brought you to this state. You were suffering because of their sick, twisted games, and he swore to himself that they would pay dearly for it.
"I'm here, love," he cooed softly, his voice soothing. With a lazy motion, he began to draw circles on your sensitive bud, his touch both tender and electrifying. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he dragged two of his fingers down again, sinking them into your awaiting heat. A hiss escaped his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers immediately, your core desperately trying to draw them in. "Azriel," your voice left your lips in a sinful moan, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name.
Picking up his pace, he arched his fingers, pumping them deeper. Unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste of you, he leaned forward, carefully extending his tongue as he licked up from where his fingers were buried deep within you, moving steadily up to your sensitive bud before sucking on it with fervent hunger. A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat as the taste of you flooded his senses. You were on the brink of release, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you whimpered and pleaded for more. Each flick of Azriel's tongue, each harsh suck on your bundle of nerves sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form.
When his mouth left your clit after one final, intense suck, you heard a groan from the corner of the room. Azriel's keen senses immediately picked up on your movement as you started to turn your head toward the source of the sound, but his other hand, not the one still buried deep inside you, found your face, forcing you to look back at him.
His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with you. "Eyes on me," he ordered, his voice commanding yet filled with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment. "Watch as I make you come." With a firm yet gentle touch, he guided your gaze back to his, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to pleasure you beyond measure. And as you obediently focused on him, the weight of the room and its twisted audience faded into the background.
You watched Azriel with rapt attention as his fingers worked wonders inside you, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with each skillful thrust. Your hips instinctively met his movements, grinding against his hand in a desperate quest for release. Despite the intensity of the moment, Azriel's concentration remained focused elsewhere.
His shadows slithered through the room, silent and deadly, creeping toward their unsuspecting victims. One shadow had already retrieved Truthteller, waiting patiently for its master's command. As you soared to the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing with the force of your climax, you released a torrent of ecstasy, squirting all over Azriel's hand and leathers.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he allowed you to use his fingers to ride out your orgasm. But as you basked in the afterglow, the lust in Azriel's eyes gave way to a chilling darkness. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers from you, straightening his back as he met your gaze. Parting his lips, he slowly sucked the remnants of your arousal from his fingers, cleaning them off with a deliberate thoroughness.
And then, in the blink of an eye, he unleashed his wrath upon the twisted individuals in the room. His shadows surged forward, wrapping around the unsuspecting males, snapping their bones with lethal precision. Some shadows slithered into their lungs, suffocating them with tendrils of darkness. Truthteller gleamed in his hand as he swiftly dispatched nearly all of them, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground within seconds. But he saved the one who had dared to touch your wings earlier for last. As the man's eyes widened in fear, Azriel loomed over him, his Siphons glowing bright with unleashed power.
"You filthy male," Azriel's voice was ice-cold, his words dripping with contempt as he confronted the perpetrator. "Enjoy watching helpless Fae get violated?" With lightning speed, he caught the man's wrists, his shadows swirling around them as the room was consumed by darkness.
For each finger he severed with Truthteller, Azriel delivered a damning sentence. "This one," he intoned with chilling precision, "is for touching her wings."
“This one," he hissed with lethal intent, "is for the innocence you defiled." The blade sliced through flesh and bone effortlessly, leaving a trail of severed digits in its wake.
With each finger severed, Azriel's voice grew colder, more menacing. "And this one," he continued, his tone dripping with venom, "is for the fear you inflicted." The man's agonized screams filled the room, mingling with the sound of metal meeting flesh.
As the bloodied fingers littered the ground, Azriel's gaze bore into the man's soul, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. "Remember this," he spat, his voice a low, ominous rumble, "for every drop of her pain, you will pay tenfold." Azriel's grip tightened around Truthteller as he gazed down at the mutilated figure before him. With a swift, calculated motion, he brought the blade down once more, severing the man's remaining hand with grim determination. "Shame that I cannot take my time with you," he muttered, his voice devoid of mercy, as he plunged Truthteller through the man's throat.
While the male gurgled and choked on his own blood, Azriel withdrew the blade with a steely resolve. With a final, lethal thrust, he ensured the man's demise, his shadows already dispersing to scout the building for any remaining threats and to locate proper attire for you both. Breathing heavily, Azriel attempted to quell the raging storm of fury within him, the splatter of blood marring his face and clothes serving as a grim reminder of the savagery he had unleashed. In that moment, he longed for the confines of his torture chamber in Hewn City, where he could have taken his time with these vile creatures.
A soft cry pierced the air, drawing Azriel's attention. With a start, he turned to find you on the ground, trembling on all fours, the remnants of your once-white dress clinging to your form. With swift, purposeful strides, he approached you, his expression unreadable as he assessed your condition. Blood and tears mingled on your face, your trembling form a testament to the horrors you had endured.
Kneeling beside you, Azriel reached out a hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed aside strands of hair plastered to your sweat-soaked skin. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern. Despite the fury still raging within him, a flicker of something akin to tenderness sparked in his eyes as he gazed upon you.
Without waiting for your response, he moved to free you from the remnants of the torn dress and chains, his movements efficient but careful. As the fabric fell away, revealing the bruises and welts marring your skin, a surge of anger welled up within him once more. "I'll get you out of here," he vowed, his tone firm.
With a deft motion, he wrapped his cloak around you that his shadows had brought, shielding you from prying eyes and offering a semblance of protection against the chill of the night. "Hold on to me," he instructed, his voice commanding yet oddly comforting. "We're leaving this place, and I won't let anyone harm you further."
Rising to his feet, Azriel gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he carried you from the chamber of horrors. As you clung to him, he swore to himself that he would never let anyone hurt you again.
Azriel winnowed you to the inn they had booked a room in three days prior, the exertion causing him to stumble slightly upon arrival. Despite his weariness, he carried you with care to the bathroom, settling you down before running a bath. Your silence weighed heavily in the air, your gaze fixed ahead as if lost in the depths of your own thoughts.
"I'm so sorry you had to endure this," you finally spoke, the words heavy with emotion.
Rushing to your side, Azriel gently cradled your face in his hands, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. "No, love, it's me who should be apologizing," he murmured, disbelief coloring his tone. "I failed to protect you, and I let those monsters lay a hand on you."
Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you shook your head, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "It wasn't your fault," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We were both in that situation together." Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I promise to make it up to you," he vowed, his voice laced with determination. "Starting with getting you cleaned up and taking care of you."
Feeling the lingering effects of the drug, you sank into the warm water with Azriel's assistance, trying to hide the discomfort that still gnawed at your senses. Despite your efforts, the telltale signs of your distress were evident to him, your body tensing at the slightest touch, your skin still flushed with fever.
Azriel noticed your unease, his brows furrowing in concern as he observed your strained movements. Gently, he reached out, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Easy, love," he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft reassurance. "I'm here with you. Just relax, and let the water ease away the pain." Though his words offered comfort, you couldn't shake the lingering discomfort that coursed through your body. Despite your best efforts to hide it, Azriel's keen gaze didn't miss a thing, his eyes filled with empathy as he watched you struggle to find solace in the water's embrace.
With a gentle hand, he began to massage your shoulders, his touch tender yet firm as he worked to alleviate the tension that gripped your muscles. Gradually, you felt the knots begin to loosen, the warmth of the water seeping into your bones and offering a fleeting sense of relief. As Azriel massaged your shoulders, you couldn't suppress a slight whimper, the tension in your body betraying the pain that still lingered within you. Heat flooded your cheeks as you immediately apologized, feeling embarrassed by your body's involuntary response.
Azriel's movements faltered slightly at the sound, his senses heightened by the scent of your arousal that filled the air. Swallowing hard, he fought to keep his own desires in check, the tension between you palpable in the confined space of the bathroom.
You stuttered slightly as you tried to explain, your words coming out in fragmented whispers. "I'm sorry... I just..." Another whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, pulling your legs to your chest in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort that still plagued you. "It still hurts."
Azriel paused for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in as he contemplated his next move. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy and deep, tinged with sincerity. "Do you want me to help?" Your eyes widened at the question, your body trembling slightly as you shook your head. "Please don't do this because you pity me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.
Furrowing his brow, Azriel leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Believe me," he murmured, his tone firm and unwavering. "Me fucking you would have nothing to do with pity." His words hung heavy in the air, filled with conviction and a promise of something more profound than mere sympathy.  As you met his gaze, your pupils blown and cheeks flushed, uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. Azriel noticed, and in that moment of vulnerability, he bared his own desires to you.
"If you had asked, I would have fucked you right there on that table," he confessed, his voice low and filled with raw desire. "No hesitation. No remorse. Just us." He paused, his gaze intense as he continued, his words tinged with a hint of  need. "And I would have taken my sweet time, making you forget any other male you've ever been with. I would have tasted every inch of you, every drop of your arousal, until you were begging for release."
He swallowed hard, his eyes burning into yours. "And afterwards," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I would have savored the sight of you, laying there, fucked out and trembling, as I licked my cum from your cunt."  As he voiced his desires, your body responded instinctively, a low moan escaping your lips, anticipation coursing through you. The tension between you grew thick. In the heat of the moment, you couldn't resist expressing your own desires, your words dripping with longing and want. "I want you, Azriel," you murmured, your voice laced with need. "I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight, until I'm begging you to stop."
Without hesitation, your lips crashed into his, a desperate hunger igniting between you. The kiss was fierce, fueled by longing and desire. You surged from the bath, water splashing around you, and pressed your wet, naked body against his chest. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating between your lips. Prying your lips open with his, his tongue ventured forth into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. "Shit, you have no idea how much you infuriate me," his voice rumbled deep in his chest. He pulls you from the bath then, hiking you up in his arms, hands on your thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle. "How effortlessly you occupy so much space in my mind."
As he carries you, your bodies pressed tightly together, Azriel's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes into yours. "Gods, the restraint it took to keep myself from you," he confesses, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I looked at you, on missions, during training... I wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes off your body and fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see."
His admission hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of your desire. You can feel the intensity of his longing radiating from him, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.
"And you, my love," he continues, his voice husky with desire, "the strength you possess, the way you could best me in one-on-one combat training... It drove me mad with desire, the urge to ravish you, to claim you as mine."
With each word, his voice grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he carries you toward the bed. "I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you," he admits, his tone laced with regret. "So I distanced myself, buried my desires deep within, but now..." He trails off, his eyes locking with yours, a hunger burning within them that mirrors your own.
"Now," he whispers, his voice barely more than a breathy murmur, "I can't hold back any longer. I need you, more than I've ever needed anything in my life." And with that, he lays you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to shed his own clothes, his movements urgent and desperate.
As he discards his pants, his cock springs free, slapping against his toned stomach. You gasp at the sight, salivating at the thought of wrapping your lips around the silky skin of his member. Crawling forward on the bed, you meet him at the edge where he still stands, your hunger evident in your gaze as you look up at him.
"I know I'm still influenced by the drug, and I'm incredibly aroused. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the bedsheets right now," you confess. His eyes darken at your admission, wandering over your form kneeling before him, lingering on your dripping core. "But believe me when I tell you that I have fantasized about this moment so many times, Azriel."
Biting your bottom lip slightly, you part your lips shortly after. "I want to pleasure you, to taste your beautiful cock, feel it glide down my throat, and I want you to use my mouth." God, your shameless words cause a faint blush to creep up his cheeks, his dark hair still disheveled from the day's events.
His cock twitches in anticipation as you confess your desires, your words sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. "I want you, Azriel," you continue, your voice low and sultry, "I need to taste you, to feel you fill my mouth and fuck me."
His own arousal surges to new heights at your shameless admission, his gaze locked on your lips, parted and inviting. "Then take me," he growls, his voice rough with need, "show me how much you want it." And with that, he guides himself to your waiting lips, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he presses against your tongue.
As you lower your mouth towards him, you flatten your tongue, tracing a strong strip up his long shaft, relishing the taste and texture of his skin. Your movements are deliberate, teasing, as you kitten-lick at his throbbing head, savoring every twitch and shudder that runs through his body.
Opening your mouth further, you eagerly suck him into your warmth, feeling him harden even more within your mouth. Your lips form a tight seal around him as you take him deeper, inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat. You relax your throat muscles, taking him in completely, reveling in the feeling of fullness and the primal sounds of pleasure that escape him.
Your tongue dances around him, swirling and caressing, as you bob your head rhythmically, matching the pace of his rising desire. His hands find their way into your hair, threading through the strands as he guides your movements, urging you on with gentle pressure.
Each suction sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, and you drink in every drop of his arousal, your own desire building with each passing moment. You're lost in the intoxicating rhythm of give and take, completely consumed by the need to pleasure him, to taste him, to feel him pulsing against your tongue.
As your lips wrap around him, Azriel grits his teeth, his eyes locked on you with a fierce intensity. He watches intently as you graze your teeth over the vein along his shaft, a deliberate tease that elicits a low growl from deep within his chest. He knows you're testing him, pushing him to the edge, and he can feel the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.
"You take me so well," he grunts through clenched teeth, his voice strained with desire. "Sucking my cock like that, driving me insane."
But as you continue to tease him, grazing your teeth and tongue over his sensitive skin, he feels himself reaching his limit. With a warning growl, he tightens his grip on your hair, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Keep teasing me like that, and I'll snap. I won't be able to hold back."
Your groan around his cock, a mischievous glint in your eyes, pushes him over the edge. With a growl of frustration, he releases you with a pop, watching as you smile innocently at him before flattening your tongue to lick up his shaft again. "You little minx," he breathes, his tone a mixture of frustration and desire. "You brought this upon yourself."
With that, he loses control, gripping your throat tightly as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. His hips snap harshly, fucking your throat with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't relent, pushing you to your limits as he drives himself closer to the edge. "That's it, princess," he speaks through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. "Take it all. You know you want it."
As he only pulls out when your eyes well with tears, gagging around him again, your jaw slack and drooling all over your chin, a string of saliva connects your mouth still to the tip of his cock as he retreats, chest heaving. He caresses your cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, before dipping down to grab your chin with his thumb.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper as he gazes down at you. "So hungry for my cock. Bet your cunt is already waiting for me to bury myself inside it."
A whimper escapes your lips at his words, and he smirks down at you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Open your mouth again," he commands, guiding your head to lean back a bit as he slips his cock back into your warm mouth. He moans sinfully as he sheathes his cock into your willing mouth, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.
"Knees apart," he orders, his voice firm yet laced with desire, and you obey without hesitation, shifting to part your legs. You gasp around his length when you feel a cool touch on your thighs, sliding up your body. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realize he is using his shadows on you, and his smirk grows wider.
Your breath hitches as you feel friction between your legs, the shadows brushing against your clit, sliding through your wet heat. "You filthy thing," he chuckles lowly, his voice a dark whisper. "You like that," he states, groaning when your moan sends vibrations through his cock, intensifying the pleasure coursing through him. Your drugged form, heightened senses and all, nearly reaches the peak of ecstasy when one of his hands falls to knead one of your breasts and a shadow brushes over one of your wings softly. With a gasp, you pull back, your body shaking with need.
"Fuck, Azriel," you pant, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside of me." A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "You want me to fill you up, don't you?" he growls, his voice dripping with raw lust. "You want my cock stretching you out, pounding into you until you can't take it anymore."
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, desire coursing through you like wildfire. "Yes," you whimper, your voice barely more than a needy whisper. "Please, Azriel, I need you to fuck me hard." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "I'm going to make you scream my name, darling. You're going to beg for more, beg for me to never stop."
He lifts you slightly, guiding you as he turns you around, bending you over until you're on all fours, your wings fluttering with excitement. With a hand placed between your wings on your spine, he presses down, arching your back.
"God, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, admiring the sight before him. Using his knee, he nudges your legs apart, positioning himself behind you. "You're absolutely soaked."
Collecting some of your slick with his cock, he slides through your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal. Your loud whine fills the air as you feel him grind into you. "Azriel," you moan his name, gasping when a harsh slap lands on your right ass cheek, leaving a handprint behind. Your pussy pulses with desire as you try to rub yourself against his hardness. "Fuck me," you seethe, your voice dripping with need.
He obliges, plunging into you with a force that sends your body reeling forward. You curse loudly as he inches deeper, until he's completely buried in your cunt, hitting your cervix. Azriel twitches at the tightness around him. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.
With a primal need driving him, Azriel begins to move within you, each thrust growing more relentless than the last. His hips collide with yours in a rhythm that's both punishing and intoxicating, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.
Your body responds eagerly to his every move, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Your moans fill the air, a symphony of desire that spurs him on further. Azriel's grip tightens on your hips as he sets a punishing pace, his cock delving deep into your slick heat with each powerful thrust.
The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your veins like fire. Your nails dig into the sheets as you surrender to the ecstasy of his touch, your body arching against him in a desperate bid for more. As Azriel's thrusts grow more fervent, he groans, his voice strained with desire. "You feel so good," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "You take me so well."
You respond with a needy whimper, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. "Harder," you plead, your voice barely more than a breathy whisper. "Please, Azriel, fuck me harder." He grunts in response, his movements becoming more forceful as he drives into you with unrestrained passion. "Like this?" he growls, his voice rough with need as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.
You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming as he takes you to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes," you gasp, your voice trembling with desire. "Just like that." With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatens to consume you. "I'm close," you whimper, your voice filled with urgency. "So close, Azriel."
He grunts in response, his own release drawing near. "Come for me," he urges, his voice low and husky as he drives into you with unbridled passion. "Let go, my love. Let me feel you." With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Azriel!" you gasp, your voice echoing in the room as you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.
"I'm not done with you," he coos, withdrawing from you with a determined gleam in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he shifts positions, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing. "I need to look at you while I make you come again." Your breath catches in your throat as Azriel's commanding voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine. You cling to him as he effortlessly lifts you, feeling weightless in his embrace, your legs draped over his shoulders.
The sensation of being held by him, of being completely at his mercy, ignites a fire within you as he plunges into you with a primal hunger. With each powerful thrust, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.
You gasp, your voice echoing in the room as he drives into you with unrelenting force. "Please, Azriel, don't stop." He grunts in response, his movements growing more frenzied as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy once more. "I won't," he growls, his voice thick with lust as he pistons into you with intensity. In the heat of the moment, Azriel's movements become more frenzied, his muscles straining as he drives into you with an unyielding passion. Your body quivers with each powerful thrust, the intensity of his gaze locking you in a mesmerizing trance.
The room swirls with shadows, dancing in a frenetic display of their master's passion. Beads of sweat form on Azriel's forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration as he maintains eye contact with you, his hazel eyes ablaze with desire.
Curses escape his lips as he nears the edge, his rhythm relentless as he repeatedly strikes that sweet spot deep within you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your entire being consumed by the raw intensity of his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin adding to the symphony of pleasure.
With a primal scream, you climax again, your essence gushing around him as you convulse in ecstasy. Wetness cascades down his legs as you drown him in the waves of your release. When you lock eyes with him again, you see the turmoil reflected in his gaze, the desire for release warring with the need to control.
As he begins to slow, ready to withdraw, you refuse to let him pull away. Your voice cuts through the haze of passion, commanding and insistent. "No," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want you to fill me. I want every last drop of you."
A mix of desire and determination flashes in Azriel's eyes as he succumbs to your command. With a growl, he thrusts into you one final time, burying himself deep within your core as he spills his essence into you with abandon.
Azriel's breath is ragged against your skin, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release as he continues to grind into you, riding out the waves of his orgasm. You both pant heavily, lost in the intoxicating embrace of each other's warmth.
In the quiet of the room, the steady ticking of time seems to slow, the rhythm of your hearts gradually synchronizing as you revel in the aftermath of your passionate union. With each passing moment, the remnants of the drug that once clouded your senses dissipate, leaving you both in a state of serene clarity. Suddenly, Rhys's urgent voice breaks through the tranquility, invading Azriel's mind with a sense of urgency. Azriel's grip tightens around your hip instinctively, his focus momentarily pulled away from the blissful moment you share. "Brother, where are you? Is everything fine?" Rhys's concern reverberates in his mental voice, a stark reminder of the dangers that still loom beyond the sanctuary of your embrace.
Azriel's response is curt, his mental voice tinged with irritation as he struggles to maintain his composure amidst the lingering ecstasy. "Yes," he confirms, the word clipped with impatience as he tries to convey his need for privacy.
Relief floods Rhys's voice at the reassurance, but Azriel can sense his brother's lingering worry. "Gods, what happened, I wasn't able to reach you," Rhys presses, his concern palpable even through their mental connection. Azriel's annoyance bubbles to the surface, his desire to savor the aftermath of your passion momentarily overshadowed by the intrusion of reality. With a low growl, he sends a brusque reply, his focus returning to the warmth of your body pressed against his. "I'm kind of busy right now, Rhys," he grumbles, his tone a mixture of irritation and longing as he tunes out the outside world, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of being buried deep inside you.
A brief pause follows Azriel's curt response, the tension in the mental connection palpable as Rhys gathers his thoughts. Then, with a hint of playful sarcasm, Rhys's voice echoes in Azriel's mind. "Ah, I see. Busy indeed," Rhys remarks, his tone laden with amusement and a touch of mischief, his words carrying a knowing undertone that hints at his awareness of Azriel's current state of affairs.
Azriel's jaw clenches slightly at the teasing remark, his irritation flickering momentarily before being replaced by a begrudging amusement. He shoots back a mental retort, his tone dry and laced with exasperation. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something here," he replies, a hint of playfulness seeping into his mental voice despite his attempt to maintain an air of annoyance.
Rhys's laughter rings in Azriel's mind, a warm and familiar sound that serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between them. "Carry on, brother,”
With a soft sigh, Azriel shifts his head, planting tender kisses along the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He hums softly against your skin, his movements deliberate and gentle as he relishes the intimacy of the moment. Pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze, a knowing look reflected in your eyes.
"Rhys?" you inquire, a hint of curiosity lacing your voice. Azriel's expression darkens slightly at the mention of his brother's name, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Yes, but I'd rather not have my brother's name on your lips while my cock is still buried deep inside your cunt," he replies, his voice low and husky, his gaze intense as he holds your gaze.
You chuckle softly at his response, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you playfully tease him. "Fair enough," you concede, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. Azriel's frown deepens momentarily before giving way to a smirk of his own.
He kisses you once more, his lips lingering against yours before he slides out of you, gently setting you back down on your feet. As you stand there together, still caught in the aftermath, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing, you know," you say, your voice soft but resolute, seeking clarity in the midst of the intimacy you've shared. Azriel meets your gaze, his expression serious yet filled with a hint of vulnerability.
"I don't want it to be," he responds, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locking with yours as he lays bare his desires and intentions. "Good," you state, a sense of satisfaction in your voice.
"Good," he echoes, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you.
You move on shaky legs, his hand enveloping yours as you make your way to the bathroom together. "Now, I really want to clean up," you state, casting a playful glance over your shoulder at him. "But there's room for two sets of wings in the tub."
His body responds immediately, his eyes darkening once again as he takes in the sway of your hips while you lead the way to the bathroom, a lingering gaze on your bare ass.
"We're not returning for another day. Something came up," he sends out to Rhys, already on your heels as you chase each other into the bath.
"Sure you do, brother," Rhys's voice comes through, laced with amusement. "Just don't forget she still has to fly back home."
The flight back home indeed turned out to be quite difficult.
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polakina · 10 months
Text
you can handle it
pairing: miguel o'hara x reader
rating: explicit
outline: on a mission to realign a disturbance, you start pushing Miguel's buttons, until something you say somethig that you didn't expect him to like, opening up a whole new avenue for you
warnings: cursing, fluff, smut, sub Miguel, outdoor sex, rough sex, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, begging, teasing, handjobs, choking
requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3
masterlist
II
You walked into the society, passing familiar faces as you went. Miles liked to call it the “clubhouse”, which you found rather entertaining, but it didn’t appeal to some as much. The leader of the society, Miguel, was one of these few who did not approve of Miles’ little clubhouse joke. The man could barely stand to be around him even on his good days. Which were rare. So very rare.
“Hey! Hey, yo, wait up.” You heard in the distance from behind you. Turning on your heel, you saw two figures in the distance jogging towards you. Hobie and Pav raced alongside one another to you. Reaching you, Pav hunched over, hands on his knees.
“Just gotta…jeez, I’m out of breath,” Pav wheezed, head facing the floor. You and Hobie looked to one another in amusement before looking at him.
“Man, come on. I’ve seen you swing through cities without getting out of breath,” Hobie chuckled.
“Old age getting to you early there, Pav?” You chuckled lightly, patting him on the back. “What are you guys running around here for anyway?” Pav rose up, standing straight. 
He pointed down the hall to your right, not where you were heading at all. “Miguel’s looking for you. Something about a disruption. He needs you. Now.” 
-
You were in the room before even Peter could sense your approach. His head spun like a spinning top, eyes wide. “Jesus,” he said, shock painting his face as he placed his hand over his heart. 
You rolled your eyes, “Calm down, Peter. You act as though I’m a bull barreling through the building.”
“With the speed you came through those doors, you might as well have been. What are you doing here?”
“She’s here for me.” Miguel’s voice came through the darkness of the room, loud and clear. He stepped up from the desk, walking over to the two of you. Well, three of you if you counted Mayday on Peter’s lap. Peter looked over to Miguel as he walked up to you both, stopping just before to table Peter was sat before. “We’ve got a job to do. I’ll brief you on the way.”
You rolled your eyes. “Always so serious, Miguel.”
“The safety of our universe isn’t serious?” He asked cocking an eyebrow.
“Of course it is!” Peter exclaimed standing, with Mayday curled in one arm, the other patting Miguel on the shoulder. “But you could at least look a little but happy when you say it. Maybe smile a little?”
Miguel just cast a very unhappy smile in Peter’s direction, rolling his eyes. “I don’t do smiling.”
You smirked. “Because he knows he’d look cute if he did.” Peter and Miguel both looked at you. Peter, with surprise, and Miguel with a rather blank stare, but his eyes lit up ever so slightly. “What? You saying that I’m wrong?” Nobody responded. “Fine,” you huffed. “Let’s get this done.”
-
It wasn’t a large, difficult task. Just a rogue spider diverting from her chosen path. Surely Miguel didn’t need you for this as well, it was certainly something he could have handled alone. 
You turned to look at him. He wore a simple jacket with a longsleeved black shirt underneath, as to not draw suspicion. You opted for a hoodie and black pants. Your suit remained on your body beneath, just in case. To anyone else, you were two normal people taking a stroll through New York, not two spiders on a job. 
“Miguel, why am I here?” You asked, cocking your head to the side, watching him turn to look at you, a blank stare on his face.
“We’re on a job,” he replied rather coolly, looking away curtly.
“You’re telling me you couldn’t handle this along? Not sure you could take her on all alone?” You teased, trying to push his buttons a little. It was fun, doing this. Teasing him and annoying him. Peter always warned you not to, for fear he’d snap at you. But he never had. He just tolerated it.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Aw, so you wanted some company?” You smiled up at him, walking in front of him so he had to look at you. “And of course, I’m the best company you could think of. That’s adorable, Miguel.”
His heart skipped a beat as he cast a glance down at you. “Clearly, you overestimate our friendship,” he mumbled, almost a whisper. 
“But it is a friendship we share, no?” You asked, raking your finger down his chest. You felt his heartbeat quicken under your touch. Oh, this was fun. He was quick to look away, blinking a few times. He was…at a loss for words, to be honest. He couldn’t look at you right now. Not until his heart had calmed and his thoughts of you had left his mind. Until your touch didn’t linger and your words didn’t stick to him like glue. 
“Let’s finish this job,” he said, looking out ot the street in search of the rogue spider. “Then we never need to talk about what we share, or what we don’t.” He then walked past you, and you followed. What you didn’t share? What was that supposed to mean?
-
It was simple as anything could be. The rogue spider had let spare a few men who were caught in the crossfire of an outbreak downtown. She had a bad sense about them, but since they had not committed anything violent or dangerous, she saw no reason to bring them to justice. They claimed to be mere witnesses to the disaster, but they had lied. They were the men behind it all, selling out their own men to save their own backs. They had to be brought to justice or they risked derailing the tire canon timeline.
It wasn’t hard. The spider seemed nervous at first, her defences up and her trust wavered and thin. But she eventually understood, capturing the men with yours and Miguel’s help and binding them to the front door of the police station to be picked up at sunrise.
The sun began to rise over the tallest buildings in the city, setting a bright illuminating glow over the streets, over the park, over the people. You sat on a billboard watching it rise, your eyes lighting up in its amber embrace.
“Ready to go?” Miguel asked from where he stood on the rooftop above you. You glanced up from where he loomed over you. 
“In a minute,” you called back to him. “I never get to enjoy this.” You looked back towards the sky, sensing as Miguel made his way to you, sitting beside you. 
“We need to go back. Too long here could fracture-”
“Fracture the timeline. I’m well aware, O’Hara,” you finished for him. You sighed, closing your eyes. “Can I not just have five minutes to enjoy this? Or are you too stubborn to let me have anything nice?”
He huffed a laugh. “You don’t need my permission for that.”
“I didn’t realise I needed your permission for anything,” you joked, nudging his arm with your shoulder. “After all, we both know who’s in charge around here.” He tensed up as he felt your touch. But it softened almost immediately when you leaned into him. 
“Oh, you’re in charge, huh? That’s new,” Miguel retorted, but you could hear a small smile in his voice.
You smiled back, standing up and balancing yourself atop the large billboard. “Of course. You think I’m not? Oh please, you’d follow my orders around like a little puppy if I wanted you to.” His heart jumped at that, but he suppressed it before he let it reach his face. 
“You’re delusional.”
“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that, big boy.” You fell backwards off the billboard and Miguel leaned over with fear glossing over his eyes as you tumbled towards the ground. You let your arms fan out as your body hurtled down, head first, wind whistling in your ears. It felt so freeing, free falling to the ground. Swinging almost felt like flying at times. It was such an incredible experience for you, every time. 
You fired a web to a nearby building, catching it on a balcony railing, sending you soaring back into the air. Miguel watched you fly through the sky, completely in awe by how you moved. So angelic. So free. He knew this game. You played it all the time with Hobie and Pav. A game of chase. Something you did to pass the time when you were bored.
So he joined you. Jumping off the billboard and swinging through the empty steet towards you. You smiled as you looked back to see him catch up. “Having fun, O’Hara?” You called out as he matched your speed, swinging alongside you.
“You call this fun?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.
“There’s a lot of things I call fun, honey. This is just a tame type of fun I like to have,” you winked, soaring through the air. He chased you through the air. Always reaching you just out of time, his fingertips grazing your skin just the second you swung out of his reach. Now he understood why Hobie was always annoyed after these games. He could never catch you. 
So he took a different approach, heading right down past a tower of apartments, out of your view. You looked back, grinning when you didn’t see him. You’d lost him. You didn’t look back in time to see him flying towards you on your right. He’d rounded the apartment buildings to gain more momentum, more speed. It had worked.his arm caught around your waist, throwing you off guard as he pinned you to the wall at the top of a large tower of more apartments. His legs caged your waist as his knees dug into the rough brick wall. A neon orange spider web entrailed from his wrist and stretched out to the lip of the building just above to two of you, keeping him suspended, his arm around your waist holding you steady so you didn’t fall. 
“You caught me,” you smiled cunningly. 
“I did,” he breathed shakily. He’d never really been this close to you. Your perfume filling his nostrils with pale tones of lavender and vanilla. Your eyes piercing deep into his, a hint of mischief and control lurking amongst your dark irises.
You smiled. You could see he was a little nervous being this close. He often kept a distance from you whenever he could. Before, you assumed it was because he found you boorish, annoying. Which you usually were around him, for the fun of it. But not now. Now you realised why he really stayed distant all this time. You could see it in his eyes. What he wanted. What he needed. From you. For you. It was all about you. “Then perhaps,” you leaned closer, your breath tickling his ear until he shuddered. “You deserve a reward?” You sent your own web flying above you, landing just besides Miguel’s, hoisting you up so that you could snake your legs over the top of his, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him flush against your body.
Miguel’s eyes went wild, pupils dilating and cheeks flushing red. “I…um-”
“Cat got your tongue, O’Hara?” You smirked, releasing your web so your weight rested fully on his strong thighs. “Usually you always have something to say. What, so you don’t want your reward? Hmm?”
His head whipped back to you, eyes wide. “No, I…” he mumbled something after that. You knew exactly what he said. But you needed to hear it properly. Louder. Loud enough so he, himself, would believe what he was saying.
“Come on,” you tipped his head a little higher so his eyes met yours, your figner under his chin. “Speak your words. Say it a little louder for me.” You were practically whispering at this point, and as much as Miguel wanted to match your volume, he knew this would lead nowhere if he did.
“I want a reward,” he spoke, more confidence in his voice. His hand rested on your lower back, rubbing small circles into your skin beneath your clothing. “As long as it’s you.”
You smiled. Not wickedly. Not mischieviously. Genuinely. There it was. The confirmation you had been waiting for. “Well, that’s up to me to decide, isn’t it?”
He nodded. Almost immediately. You always had an inkling that if this were to ever happen, you would be the one to seek the control. But to see it now, in person…it felt all too real and all too perfect. “I want you to decide. Please,” he breathed, his tone begging for you. His eyes portraying a particular need for you.
“So you’re going to listen? Obey what I say. Do what I ask?” With every question he answered with a nod. You gripped his jaw gently, forcing him to make eye contact with you. “Either you use your words, or I’m not doing anything, Miguel.”
That was the last thign he wanted. You could see it in his face. “Yes,” he blurted out. “I’ll listen to you. I promise.”
“Good boy,” you smiled. You felt the way his heart sped up with his pulse right under your hand. You felt the way his dick twitched as you said those words. He liked it. A lot. 
Your hands drifted downwards, down his stomach to the belt on his pants. It surprised him, causing the two of you to drop a few inches from the web suspension slacking. 
“Keep holding on, puppy. Or else we’ll fall.”
“But-I…here? We’re on top of a building,” he said, looking around before back at you. 
“And? I always thought you found danger rather thrilling?” You cocked your head to the side, your hands still working on undoing his belt. “Would you prefer somewhere quieter? More private?” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek, then his jaw, then eventually his neck. “I always found being out in the open made it all the more exciting.”
He nodded, his head tilting back, giving you more access. Below, you had already pulled his belt apart, unzipping his pants and slid your hand inside. He gasped when your bare hand came into contact with his cock. You wrapped your hand around it, your fingers barely touching one another as you slid it down to the base of his cock and back up to the tip. Pre cum had already begun leaking out, gliding down your hands, lubricating his dick so you didn’t have to. 
Miguel’s breathing grew heavy, desperate as you touched him. It made him feel unlike any way he had before. It felt heavenly. You leaned back, taking in the features on his face, how his eyes squeezed together, how his mouth fell agape, small whines of pleasure falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good, baby,” you cooed, loving the way his dick twitched once again at your words. His hand wrapped around your back further, gripping your waist tightly, his knuckles paleing with the force of grip. 
“Please…ple-please,” his words sped up with the rhythm of your hand pumping his cock. You knew he was nearing a high, a rush. He needed it. It had been so long. And fuck, you wanted to give it to him. 
“Please, what? What do you want so badly that you feel the need to beg me for it?” Your tone changed. It was calm. Demanding. No room for negotiation.  
“I want you to let me fuck you. Please.” His eyes were so pleading. So desperate. His hips began to raise to meet your rhythm, your body bouncing as he did. You allowed it. You knew how much he needed it. Besides, it wasn’t like he was taking any control by doing so. He knew you clearly still had all the power here.
“Of course, baby,” you smiled. You couldn’t deny that this certain submission from Miguel made you feel a certain type of way. You could feel it all through your body. Mainly in your pants. But it radiated everywhere.
Miguel, shortened his web, pulling the two of you back up to the buildings roof. You sat atop it, spreading your legs as Miguel remained suspended between them. He looked up at you, eyes wide and waiting for your next order. You lifted a leg, placing your ankle on his shoulder and pulling him towards you, his chin resting just above your stomach. “Can I?”
You nodded your head, and Miguel approached, hesitant but needy. He pulled your pants from your body, your clothes collecting in a pile on the roof beside you. He was nervous at first. It showed in his movements. Soft, gentle licks up your slit, tender against your clit. His hands tentatively wrapped around your thighs, his face buried between them. He was holding back. He wanted to do more. He knew he could. But he wanted to be good. For you. “Miguel,” you called out, squeezing your thighs around his head to get his attention. He looked up at you with soft brown, doe eyes. “I know that that’s not all you got. Come on, puppy.”
He became more forceful with it, gradually. His sole intent being you. Pleasuring you. Pleasing you. His fingers gripped your thighs tighter, his tongue delving deep inside you. Your head fell back, your hand tangled in his hair. “Fuck, that’s it,” you guided. “Just like that, honey.” The flicks of his tongue moved faster, his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and nibbling to make you squirm. Your hand kept his head in the perfect position, your grasp tightening until it was almost painful. But he didn’t care. 
Miguel slipped his hand under you, between your thighs, teasing at your pussy with his finger. His eyes gazed up at you, waiting for a confirmation. For a yes. For anything. You met his eye, your chest heaving. “Well, go on then, guapo.” He wasted no time, pushing one finger in, then two, easing them in so easily with your wetness. You gasped, caging his head between your thighs. 
His fingers sped up inside you, drawing you to a closer high with every passing second. He could feel it too. He needed you to come. God, he wanted it so badly. Your body slid closer to the edge, but you didn’t even notice and neither did he. Not until you both slipped slightly off the edge, and Miguel caught you around the waist before you could fall from his grip. “May have gotten a little too excited there…” Miguel admitted, heat flushing his cheeks.
“Not a problem, chulo,” you smiled, patting his cheek. “But if you think that’s going to stop us, then you’re sorely mistaken.” you shifted in his lap, positioning his cock at your soaked pussy. Miguel shivered as you pushed the tip inside you, his body tensing and his mind racing. Miguel braced himself against the tough brick layed wall, hand on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist. You let out a sigh as you sank down inot his cock, until he was fully sheathed inside you. 
Looking to Miguel, you saw his face contort, his teeth grit, his eyes squeeze shut. “Calmate, Miguel. Just relax, amor,” you purred, a slight accent springing out as your tongue rolled the syllables. It had been a while for him. For you too. You both needed this so badly. Fuck, you’d been thinking about this for a long time. 
Miguel groaned as he began moving his hips, his cock rolling in and out of you at a slow, steady pace. His cock hit deep inside you, low moans all you could muster. “Just like that, Miguel. Don’t stop.” He didn’t. He thrust his cock inside you deeply, harder and harder until it was overwhelming him. But it felt so good he didn’t want to stop. You felt so good around his dick, so fucking good. 
You could see it in face that he was struggling to keep calm. The sensation was too much for him. But he could take it. “Miguel, look at me,” your hand wrapped around his throat. Not putting any pressure on. Just holding it. But it snapped his attention to you immediately. “You’re doing so good for me, honey. You can hold on a little longer,” you breathed. Even you were struggling to keep composure right now. “Now come on, baby. You do want to make me feel good, don’t you?” He nodded profusely. You turned his head to the side, his pulse beating so fast beneath your touch. You leaned in close to his ear. “So fuck me then. You can handle it.”
You leaned back, retracting your fingers from his neck, until his free hand came up to grab yours. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you almost said something until he brought your hand back around his throat. “Hold it there. Please.”
“Oh?” You smiled. “So that’s what you like, hmm? I guess we’re going to start figuring out everything that you like then, aren’t we? Now be a good boy for me.”
He fucked up into you, your back scraping across the harsh wall behind you. But you didn’t care if it scratched your back to shit. It was all worth it. Your grip around his throat tightened, Miguel’s head getting lighter, but it brought on a whole new high for him. He lost all control, thrusting faster and faster. You held onto him, head resting against his shoulder as your climax inched closer and closer. “Can’t go-fuck-much longer. Please.” Miguel gritted his teeth, panting heavily.
“Baby,” you purred, kissing his shoulder and leaning up to look at him. “You know the rules. You want to come? Then you can make me come too, yeah?”
“I wanna make you come. So bad.”
“Then do it,” your grip around his throat tightened and he left out a soft moan, holding your waist tighter until his fingerprints practically burned into your skin. “Make me come. Or you get nothing else tonight.”
You were both so close. Your legs tightened around him, crushing his waist as you felt pleasure crash over you. You held Miguel close, moaning his own name into his ear as you came, flooding his cock with your release, soaking him in your juices. You clung to him, digging your nails into his skin.
He followed close behind, groaning as he came inside you, coating your walls in white and letting his whole body relax against you. 
You both stayed that way for a moment, breathing heavily. The brick wall had become a comfort to your spine, basically crumbled to a shape befitting your body. “You did good, guapo,” you chuckled, kissing him softly. Miguel melted into the kiss, his hand on your back, pulling you close. It was soft. Tender. Everything he thought it would be. You pulled away for air, looking at him with gentle eyes. “But next time,” you pulled him closer by his throat, inches from his face. “You don’t come until I say you can. Got it, baby?”
“Next time?” There was a little excitement in his tone.
You smiled, tapping the side of his neck. “Oh, you thought I was done with you? Adorable.”
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aakeysmash · 2 months
Text
Roommate or boss?
part 1, part 3, part 4
Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.
Warnings: cursing, maybe a little bit of suggestive language.
Word count: 2079 words.
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Having Katsuki as a roommate proved to be not that bad. He was almost never home apart from most evenings, and when he was home, he minded his own business.
It’s not like he didn’t acknowledge you to be under his same roof, he was a decent guy, even if he swore a lot.
After sleeping in the guest room for a month, he painted it like he said he would at the beginning, and it took him 3 days. He had to sleep on the couch to not inhale the fumes, and you heard him cursing every morning.
“Can you keep it down? Jeez, it’s 7 am” you say coming out of your room, having heard the commotion in the living room.
“You have to change this shit of a couch. My back hurts so fucking much. My feet don’t even fucking stay on the couch while I sleep ‘cause of how fucking small it is” he barks at you.
“Not my fault you’re big” you say yawning, while rubbing your eyes and going straight towards the coffee machine. You hated having early lectures.
He scoffs. You widen your eyes, shooting him a mean look.
“I meant to say you’re tall” you add.
“Huh? And what would even be the other meaning? Freak” he says flipping you off and sitting himself at the table.
“Whatever” you mumble, putting your coffee in a cup.
“Give me some” he says stretching his hand.
“Make it yourself, big guy” you reply, sticking your tongue out and going towards your own room.
“OI! And here I was about to make you breakfast in exchange” he loudly says.
You turn around and smile at him sweetly. “Roomieeee you didn’t have toooo” you say, trying to hug him.
You know he hates physical contact. He told you so after you accidentally touched his hand passing him the salt one day at dinner. He jumped out of his chair like he was burned by your touch.
“GET OFF OF ME YOU GREMLIN!”.
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Meanwhile, things at work could be going better. Your manager came back the day after your talk with Kirishima, and saying that she was pissed off and nervous at the same time would be an understatement.
For the weeks after, she was nicer than she ever was with the clients, but meaner with you and your colleagues. Bitch.
One day you’re cleaning the milk machine when Momo comes behind you.
“I heard the boss came to know about her little escapades and he wasn’t happy” she whispers in your ear.
You throw her a sneaky look before admitting “it might be my fault”.
Momo gasps. “What? Why haven’t you told me anything?” she whisper yells now.
“Shh! It happened last month. You know the guy with the spikey red hair?” you ask her, and she nods.
“Apparently, he’s the boss’s right hand. He told me the boss needed her and I told him she left” you calmly explain.
“I hope she doesn’t come to know it was you who told him that. She’s already making our life a living hell” she sighs.
“Whatever” you say rolling your eyes. “I’m clocking out, see you tomorrow?”.
“As always, babe”.
While you’re going out, you shoot a text to your new roommate. You’re feeling lazy, but you don’t want to feel lazy alone.
You: ordering takeout right now. Do you want something?
Katsuki (roommate): who dis
You: Katsuki are you for real?
You: I’m your roommate
You: you didn’t even save my number?
Katsuki (roommate): wtv
Katsuki (roommate): get me wings
Katsuki (roommate): extra spicy
You: sorry, who’s this???
Katsuki (roommate): petty bitch
Katsuki (roommate): im locking the door
You: I’m calling the firefighters down the street and you’re gonna pay for the new door then
Katsuki (roommate): just get me fkn wings woman
You roll your eyes. This man is insufferable.
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“What are you doing Saturday night?” you say while munching on your chips on the couch.
Katsuki is cooking dinner for the both of you. He’s been living with you for the past 4 months now. You’ve grown accustomed to his antics, and he’s done the same with yours. For example, he knew how you tended to overcook his eggs. And since he hated that, he cooked them himself, just like he was doing right now.
“Hopefully not seeing your ugly face” he grumbles. He watches you over his shoulder and puckers his lips. “Why are you so fucking disgusting? I always find crumbs of everything on that fucking couch”.
You roll your eyes. “Just answer the question, Bakugou”.
“Not gonna be home. I have to run errands at work. You bringing some scum over? I’m not cleaning stains on top of your shitty crumbs on that couch”.
He’s not paying attention to what you do anymore, cutting up vegetables.
“And I’m the disgusting one? Ew” you cringe. “Ochaco and I wanted to have girl’s night. It’s been a while since we’ve done that, but her roommates are at home”.
“Short girl, brown hair, round face?” He asks.
“Yeah”. You’re surprised he remembers, but it’s true that you’re basically always calling her.
“Don’t mind. When’s your next shift? You’re next on the “cleaning the bathroom” list”. He adds.
You barely ever talk about work: he said that he’s some type of accountant and he knows you’re some kind of barista. After all, you both don’t care about what the other does if you both still pay rent on time.
You like these little moments you have with him. They don’t happen that often, but it’s like you’re bonding over time. He doesn’t look like he thinks the same, though. Most of the time he voices that you’re “pissing him the fuck off with all your stupid fucking questions”.
“Tomorrow morning, and then on Sunday. It’s weird now that my ex-manager isn’t around anymore, our schedules are much more organised. I wonder why she got fired” you say thoughtful.
Katsuki stiffens up. Your manager has been fired the same week he fired Camie? Must be a coincidence, a lot of extras are shitty workers anyways. He shrugs it off.
He turns abruptly to face you and he scares you so bad you throw the chips in the bowl lying on your lap on your face. He laughs like a maniac.
“Why did you do that?! I get it, you’re a clean freak! Okay! I’ll clean the damn bathroom!” You angrily say.
“Curry is ready, rat” he says, wiping his tears.
“Great, now I’m a rat too?”. Katsuki has this bad habit of always forgetting names and just giving everyone mean nicknames.
“With all those cheese chips on your face? Yes, dumbass” and he starts laughing again.
“It’s all your fault!” you whine, and then help him set the table. You might be annoyed, but you know his curry is bomb.
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You’re so happy to be free from Camie’s claws that you and Ochaco drink more than you normally do on Saturday night.
You’re both lying lazily on your bed when she’s telling you about her new boyfriend. He’s the same guy from that one physics assignment (which, by the way, you didn’t fail), and she calls him Deku.
“I swear you’d like him Y/N. He’s so shy, but his arms are so biteable” she dreamily sighs.
You look up at the ceiling before answering “and what’s the correlation between any of the statements you just made?”.
She throws you a punch. “Why are you lucid still? Just… blabber!” she complains.
You chuckle. “I’m so getting an aspirin for tomorrow morning, for both me and you. Just go under the covers and sleep while I’m gone, okay?”.
She nods and you stand up, wobbling towards your kitchen.
“You know, you still haven’t delved into how good or bad things are going with your new roommate” she suddenly says. “You know I need the details”.
You lean on the wall next to your door for some stability before thinking about it.
“He’s good, I guess. We talk here and there when we’re both home, he told me he’s enrolled in economy. He seems rough but he knows how to cook some bomb ass curry, so I’ll keep him” you sluggishly reply. Damn, you really drank too much.
“Yeah Y/N you’ve told me this much. But do you find him hot? Did any of you just enter the bathroom not knowing the other was in it?” your best friend mumbles.
“He locks the door before doing anything” you roll your eyes, then wince because it has hurt your head.
“He’s mean, but he takes the time to be a good roommate I guess? I’d like to know him more than he lets others know, yeah, but he’s not very talkative. To be honest, I think that he’s scared to let people in. I’m probably too invasive for him” you ramble on.
“Did you even hear what I said?” you ask after the silence stretches too long, but the only things replying to your question are your best friend’s snores.
You sigh, then continue going to your kitchen.
It takes a while for you to find the medicine, and when you do, you hear your front door being opened.
With your mind still hazy, you recognise Katsuki’s figure.
“Hi” you tell him.
“Hello? God, you reek. You’re becoming a rat more and more each day” he roughly says while getting his coat off and on the hanger.
“How was work?” you continue, ignoring his comment.
He looks you up and down. He thinks you look kinda cute with your cheeks tinted pink and your hair ruffled, but he’s really tired. “Good, mind your fucking business though. I’m gonna sleep”.
You look hurt for a second, then relax your features. He always answers this way.
You take a good look at him. The light that enters from the window behind your couch makes his face barely visible; with the moonlight as your only aid, you take a moment longer than usual to just stare at him. Broad, blonde, big shoulders, a light scowl on his face, red eyes that seem to follow your every move. Maybe, in his next life, he could be a hero.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, really pretty?” you stumble out.
He looks at you like you’ve just said the dumbest thing ever.
“What the fuck are you saying? Just let me go to sleep and go do whatever the fuck you were doing before”.
“I said you look really fucking hot, Katsuki” you repeat, kind of annoyed. “It’s not like I asked you to cut your hand and offer your blood for a sacrifice, fuck. Why do you have to be so rude?” you spit out.
He’s surprised. “That’s not the words you used the first time. Pretty and hot don’t mean the same thing” he says, faking that he hasn’t heard your outburst, while stepping closer to you.
“Whatever” you mumble.
He stops in front of you. Maybe he’s been kind of rude lately because the situation at work hasn’t been the best. He fired Camie because he repeatedly heard she wasn’t capable of doing anything good on top of being mean to her colleagues, but finding another manager was stressing him out. He wanted to fire her as soon as he came to know her behaviour the first time, but Kirishima said neither of them had enough time to deal with her father. As much as this infuriated him, he was right. They were in their last year, and university wasn’t gonna finish itself.
You’re looking up at him with a scowl. “Let’s both go to sleep, m’kay? You don’t know what you’re saying” he says, nicer than any other time he talked to you. In the back of your mind, you notice he isn’t cursing anymore.
You keep on mumbling something and almost trip on your feet trying to get to your room.
You’re about to fall when he picks you up bridal style and goes to get you in your room himself.
Just before you fall asleep in his arms (how strong is he? He’s not even straining) you put your head on his shoulder.
“Thanks, sorry, I’m really drunk. I didn’t want to invade your privacy” you say.
He just shushes you up before telling you to sleep.
And just before you pass out, you notice he smells faintly like coffee.
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star-burst365 · 8 months
Text
“Children have treated toys better than you’ve treated me.”
As much as I love Scarlett (I’m an avid Tella hater im sorry), Evangeline is absolutely my favorite MC that Stephanie has written so far.
Here you have a deeply lonely character who hasn’t even turned 18 yet. All Evangeline wants is love — she gives so much of it (again and again) and it’s all she wants back. She forgives Marisol, befriends Luc again, and gives Jacks and the other Fates second and third and fourth chances. That’s why it hurts so badly when she gets so little of it. Everyone in the book uses her. Tiberius (to frame her for murder), Marisol, her Stepmother, Chaos, LaLa, and even Jacks. She stayed the entire night hugging (kind of) almost-vampire Jacks in the crypt just for him to abandon her when it was her under the venom 😭. In Jacks’s own words, she’s “the unluckiest person he’s ever met.” Our poor girl cannot catch a break: everyone in the books manipulate her for their own gain while she gets absolutely nothing in return, despite getting things done for the people around her. She found the stones, she unlocked the arch, and what did she get as a thank you? Dying in the arms of her almost-lover, before being turned away cruelly by said almost-lover and losing her memories. Jeez.
But that’s why it’s so inspiring seeing her get back up again and again. Evangeline would kill them with kindness if she wasn’t nice enough to try and save each and every one of them. She hugs and forgives LaLa after she placed a curse on her. She tries to talk Petra out of killing her (we all know how that went, yikes). She chooses Jacks again and again, because that’s what love is. It’s everything she stands for: fighting for the people you love and never abandoning them.
Idk, maybe it’s just me, but I really would love to see more of the characters appreciating her, this girl and her blind faith in everything that moves, who’s stubborn and fearless and determined to help others instead of herself. So excited for acftl <3
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dadsbongos · 4 months
Text
i eat your skin - f.megumi
part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - cunnilingus (fem reader), title sounds like vore smut but it isn't i promise word count - 3.7 K / rating - R
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Megumi braces his hands on his knees, brows pinched tight in preemptive annoyance. Satoru spindles over him, shadowing the younger man almost completely - and it only serves to irritate Megumi that he’d refused to sit down. Furiously determined to forever humiliate his former pupil, Megumi assumes.
Or, he would, if Satoru hadn’t actually agreed to give him advice about a little… situation.
“Alright, now when you see her, look at me- seriously, look at me, Megumi,” Satoru’s face is lethally drawn, usual bright grin tugged low and serious with furrowed brows to match, “Megumi, you cannot let her intimidate you,” Megumi opens his mouth, a vile retort slithers back down his throat when Satoru interrupts, “No, I know you, and you’ll feel all sick,” he mocks a frown, even pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, “You’ll get all nervous. But you cannot let her intimidate you out of it.”
“I’ll hardly die asking her out,” Megumi rolls his eyes, one hand lathering the sweat in his palms against his sweatpants and the other scratching the back of his neck, “Maybe this just isn’t a good idea…”
“And what? Be a miserable wimp the rest of your life?” Satoru folds his arms across his chest, “You’ve liked her since you were first years.”
“And?”
“You’re graduates now!”
“So?”
“‘So,’” Satoru mimics Megumi’s sulking nature, voice deep and neanderthal-ish in nature, “Be greedier, kid!” he flicks the younger man’s forehead, “You’ll die one day. You’ll die. Whether it be on a mission, or in your hospital bed as a diseased old man - you can’t stop it. So, why deprive yourself of something you really want when it all ends the same?”
Megumi can’t exactly pinpoint the reason he even came to his old legal guardian for help over, say, Nanami. He definitely should’ve gone to Nanami, at least he could’ve given Megumi genuine advice that isn’t some children’s show morale of “just tell her how you feel!” - he could’ve done that any day.
When Megumi opens his mouth to protest, Satoru flicks him again.
“You think your special one,” Megumi gags loudly at the title, and Satoru pays it no mind, “is gonna sit around her entire life not having fun and being young? Getting dates?” Satoru nods to himself when Megumi doesn’t reply, “Duh.”
“I want this to be special,” Megumi insists, both hands coming to rest in his lap now, he squeezes them together, lacing his fingers and imagining how yours would look with him instead, “I want- “
He wants and wants and wants and does nothing.
He needs to be someone you simply can’t fathom saying no to, he needs it so bad his stomach churns just like Satoru said it would.
“Alright, I know it can be difficult for you - not being me, after all,” a large hand claps on Megumi’s shoulders and he looks up to see the beaming face attached, “But trust me, kid, this whole idea of a ‘special’ confession is archaic bullshit compared to just being yourself.”
“I thought girls liked special confessions?”
“Sexist: not all girls automatically like the same things,” his former teacher shakes his head, sighing out each disappointed fiber trapped in his soul, “And if she doesn’t accept a plain, Megumi-style date proposition, then her shock and awe over a sick-as-hell graphic novel confession isn’t going to make for a healthy relationship.”
“Hm,” Megumi bites back frustrated curses, taking the words and molding them into a more conventional way that actually makes sense. He nods, “Okay.”
“Exactly,” Satoru stands back, giving Megumi room to rise from his bed, “Oh, but one thing that does help?” the older man grins wickedly, “Eat her out. Direct line to a woman’s heart is through eating her pussy.”
“Shut up,” Megumi huffs, pointing at his wide-open bedroom door, “Shut up. Shut up and get the hell out.”
“Jeez,” Satoru yanks at the already loose collar of his plain black shirt, “I thought we left teen angst behind. Just give it some thought! And also, I wanted to ask- “
Megumi huffs, falling back onto his bed, still pointing at the door.
“If,” and in true fashion, Satoru continues, maybe even a little louder (just to prove a point), “you wanted to watch a movie?”
“No,” Megumi immediately answers.
“C’mon! It’s this or paperwork I have to do.”
Megumi’s eye roll gives Satoru no more room for pleading, and so he stalks back to the living room. Dragging his socked feet over a shaggy black rug towards the door, he takes a final peek over his shoulder at the boy on his bed. Stupid mouth in a stupid pout and stupid nose forcing stupid crocodile sniffles, Satoru acts out a picturesque performance. And if his blindfold were off, Megumi is certain he’d catch big blue eyes framed by batting white lashes.
“No, “ Megumi rolls his eyes again, “‘m going out.”
Blushy top with faded blue bell bottoms and a shiny, thin chain that dangles across your chest, Megumi’s eyes flit away from your figure just as quick as they’d found you. Everything’s a little murky under the purple LEDs, but he thinks you’ve worn that before. He thinks you’re somehow more beautiful now. He looks away, snaking through a narrow, picture-framed hallway at Yuuji’s back to this house’s kitchen. There are no light strips strapped across the kitchen walls, simple and plain and unflattering fluorescent bulbs send a gentle cream wash over the walls.
With only a handful of straggling bodies leaning against peeling-edged faux wood cabinets and spotted countertops, there’s more room to breathe than in the hall. Red Solo cups from every teen movie nightmare decorate hands and unnerving corners. Some more anxious part of him wants to reach out and push every precarious ruby further back into secure landing, but he doesn’t.
Two women in complimentary spaghetti strap dresses flounce out of the kitchen with looped arms. They’re sunk into the plum tank until Megumi can’t see them at all anymore.
“Oh, like that!” you muse, nudging your chin towards a pair in matching floral print dresses that reach about mid-thigh, “Exactly my point.”
“That’s hardly 70s influenced,” the man in front of you - Jirou? Junto? Jouji? you don’t really recall - shakes his head, “Just flowers.”
“No, no, look at the trim,” you’re trying your hardest not to point but this guy just cannot pinpoint the details in your mind to save his life, “It’s flowy and mesh. Sort of. That’s a little more flower child era, right?”
“I guess, if your only experience in that fashion was movies,” you huff at the response and he laughs in the face of such exasperation.
“Whatever! You’re so difficult.”
“Hobby,” it’s so plain out of his lips. Like you should somehow be expecting that snark.
“Oh my God…” you can hardly believe someone could be so obtuse. A contrarian just for the fun of it, “And are you normally invited to parties for that?”
“Oh, no,” his tone, again, betrays some delusion that you should already know the answer, but this time you do already know. Who invites a conversation killer to an event? “I got dragged here by a friend. Don’t even know who the host is.”
You snicker, one hand smothering the sight of your mouth, “That makes more sense.”
Megumi can see the hand that binds, you usually don’t string it up around those you’re close with. Like Yuuji and Nobara and Maki and Miwa from Kyoto and your friends that live closer to the coast and the friends that don’t and your parents and him. So you’d think he’d know better than to let a big, gangly, clawed, green beast sprout and grow and suck away at his gut.
Even though that hand is a sign of some rising desire to be out of that conversation, he still hates being across the room when it happens. Because that’s still some semblance of a shining star behind the flesh. Some laugh or smile he’s not next to.
And it isn’t like he hates when you’re out with others. What he hates is being in the same room with someone potentially more captivating than he is.
He hopes you like him best because he’s the most familiar and drawing, and it’s disturbing when someone else might be more homely and more charming and more absorbing. He hates the curdling illness of jealousy and he hates to be this way when you two aren’t even together, but most of all he hates that maybe you’ll prefer someone else simply because they’re better at his craft than he is.
So Megumi watches and rots quietly with thick, spindling vines spreading and tangling him to the kitchen doorway as you talk to a guy whose name he doesn’t know. It’s pathetic and waning most unbearably.
“Stop staring, it’s weird,” Yuuji chastises, chunking part of his weight against Megumi’s side, an elbow shelved on Megumi’s shoulder, “Just go up and say something, if you wanna talk to her.”
“Yeah, it’s that easy,” Megumi jerks through the vines and into the hungry waters of a living room party with a snapping, starved crowd before finding the optimal spot: a plain wall with no posters or pictures to snag and smack down.
Yuuji trails after, his white shirt reflecting a blinding shade of lavender from beneath his puffer jacket. Much easier to track down than Megumi’s gloomy, funeral-grade attire. Yuuji capitalizes on the empty space so ugly at Megumi’s side, staking claim to the wall with a huff, “It is, by the way. You two are friends. Go tell her you’re here.”
“But then I’d have to,” Megumi’s mouth zips shut, head tilting as he snakes a hand through some imaginary crowd.
“I guess,” Yuuji wants to shake Megumi at times like this. He wants to shake you too, sometimes. But mostly he imagines squeezing Megumi’s shoulders and smacking him around, but he never does.
Maybe just the first part.
All out of love.
“Okay,” so Yuuji pivots, swerving in front of his best friend and taking one shoulder in each hand, “You need to do something or you’re going to sit here and be pouty, dude.”
“I’m not pouty.”
“Biggest lie in Tokyo, brother,” Yuuji purses his lips, eyes flitting to where you are, “I’ll get her over here if you really don’t want to.”
“Hm?” Megumi’s brows furrow, neck craning closer as if he could somehow mishear the man.
“Just pretend to be busy or some shit and I’ll brave the crowd,” Yuuji goes to walk away, suddenly pausing and placing a hand over Megumi’s heart, “And if I don’t return, sing songs for me by a nice lake every anniversary.”
“Whatever,” Megumi knocks away the hand but is already pulling out his phone to perform the charade. His eyes lock onto the screen and he soldiers on to not rip them away and give slight that this was planned.
“Do you think I could maybe get your number?”
“Oh!” no, God no - you wish you were better at saying that, “Uh,” it’s not even as if you dislike this guy, you just don’t think any conversation with him could amount past what it has.
Wow, you’re a pain in the ass! Yeah but it’s funny, right? Not if it’s on purpose. Especially if it’s on purpose! Sure, if that’s what you think. You do think it’s funny, right? Sure. Come on, it is! Sure.
And dry replies make you want to claw your eyes out more when you have to give them than when you receive them.
So when the bony fingers of Yuuji creep upon your side, it’s like the first drink of water after sifting through thick bowls and hills of sandy desert. He leans his head down into your peripheral, grinning brightly, “Miss me?”
“Yuuji!” you cheer, turning to… Junsei? and laying a flat palm under Yuuji’s chin, “This is my buddy, who I didn’t know was coming.”
“I texted you,” he pinches your side, “Fushiguro’s busy, so I’m fetching you for the night,” and you wonder if he might feel the stiffness of your muscles and the rigid air, “Sorry, man, but she’s got serious business tonight!”
“Oh,” Junzo! Junzo’s forehead crinkles, nose wrinkling at the bluntness of this cocky new stranger, “Uh…”
“See you around,” maybe it’s a lie, maybe it isn’t. You wave and let Yuuji keep you pressed to his side. You wait until you’re certain the surrounding affairs of other people drown whatever you could say to Yuuji, “Thank you for that. He was asking for my number and I just didn’t know what to say…”
“No,’” he shrugs.
“Oh, like you could’ve done that.”
“I could’ve!”
But Yuuji can do anything, so that isn’t fair.
“‘gumi!” you cheer upon getting close to the boy, arms splaying wide before wringing yourself around his neck, “I was worried you weren’t coming!”
He hesitates before having the misfortune to hear Satoru’s words once again. Be greedier. Be greedier. So he gently settles both hands on your back, pushing you chest-to-chest, “Yeah, well, Itadori wouldn’t let me stay in.”
“Poor baby,” you step back, and Megumi takes notice in how you maintain your hands’ position over his shoulders, nails picking at fluff on his shirt.
Megumi, regrettably, can still hear Satoru in the back of his head. Greedier, greedier, greedier. It chokes him up, the idea of selfishly taking you for himself. But what really grips him is the terrible way your gaze flits from his face to other men - unintentionally, he’s sure. But it drives him wild all the same.
“I hate big parties,” Megumi boldly cradles the bend of your waist with his hand, fingers splaying wide over the curve. He tugs you closer, thighs nearly brushing, “Crowd’s a pain in the ass.”
“Ah, no, c’mon, what’s that Great Gatsby quote?” who’s to say, he hasn't read that book, “‘I like large parties. They’re so intimate…’” you shrug, bottom lip tugging between your teeth when he doesn’t show any recognition, “‘At small parties there isn’t any privacy.’”
“You actually remembered that shit?”
You titter coyly, “Maybe I saw it on one of those book quotes videos. Maybe I remembered it.”
“Well, it’s a stupid quote. There’s too much noise at big parties, it’s hard to hear people.”
“You hear me just fine,” that’s just because he’s leaning closer and trying harder than he does for most people, “Besides, I like it. At big parties you can just fuck off and do your own thing, you know? At small parties there’s this expectation to be around everyone and interact with everyone and be having fun with the group.”
Finally, it seems to click, he nods slowly, “You like to get away from the crowd?”
“Yeah,” you scratch the side of your arm, then your neck, and it’s so odd how just thinking about how uncomfortable your skin is that you can get so itchy, “Hard to do that when the crowd’s five people and a dog.”
“Well,” Megumi can feel Yuuji’s stare, and it takes everything in him to not knock the kid up his skull, “If you wanna get away, I’m sure - uh,” he’s suddenly humiliated by his own hubris, “I’m sure there’s room… upstairs…”
You grace him with a patient nod, hands lowering from his shoulders to lace your fingers together, “I’m sure there is.”
“So…”
“So…”
Megumi nods, head slowly tilting so he’s staring up at you through his long lashes, “So.”
You lean closer, shoulder pressing and nose bumping against his, “So?”
The heat from Megumi’s cheeks wavers over you, his flesh ripe with crimson. You want to bite him. Leave a terrible mark that he couldn’t possibly cover up; maybe he’d let it bleed through his dark shirt. Maybe he’d let you lick it clean.
“You look nice,” he tucks his face down, heated skin now flush against your top. His brows furrow, uncertain, “Really nice.”
Megumi wonders what Satoru or Yuuji would do. They’re greedier than him by nature. More outgoing.
They would’ve done something years ago.
Suddenly, you grin. All sharp teeth and nails pricking over his thigh, through his pants. Your eyes stare down at him over the bridge of your nose, and you lean closer - smothering any space he’d initially put between your bodies.
“Are you gonna do something about it?”
Megumi’s eyes widen, warmth beating over his face and the back of his neck. He flails for a response, trapped under your piercing gaze, before finally settling on a response that he hopes pleases you.
“Do you want me to?”
You frown; something in his chest stings, a chord pulled awry. The tug of your lips is all a ploy, a mesmerizing color to disguise venom, “Don’t you want to, ‘gumi?” you pull away, leaning back with your hands pressed to the mattress below, “Don’t you want me?”
A cold breeze from this stranger’s open window takes up residence across Megumi’s sweltering skin. He hates it. He wants to get up from the bed altogether and slam the window shut. He wants to take you in both hands and sink himself into the softness of your skin. He thinks you’d be savory.
He wants to be certain.
So both of his hands mold to your hips, melting his exposed skin to yours.
Fingers dipping into the waistband of your bottoms, he bats his eyelashes and tucks his lower lip between fangs. He may draw blood. He cares not.
The oxygen is thin; hardly refreshing.
Megumi swallows the pooling want on his tongue, his fingers twitch against you, “Can I- “
“‘gumi…” you flatten yourself onto your back, hips tilting up into his palms, “Show me you want me.”
“Okay,” Megumi nods, air forced out of his throat through swollen hunger, “Okay.”
Once he’s gotten your pants off, Megumi presses open kisses against the inside of your thighs, following the swell to its natural apex. He digs the jab of his nose into you, lips impolitely fluttering against the seat of your panties before dipping his tongue out. Lolling the soft, soaked muscle over the clinging fabric, he feels his chest clench at how you rock your hips down into his face.
He feels one of your hands wind into his messy hair, carding through the softness. He wants to make you tug it - pull cruelly and grind against his face. Take what he gives and selfishly demand more.
Megumi groans heartily into your clothed cunt when the slickness of his saliva pulls your wetness from the cloth; when the unabashed taste of you meets his tongue.
He nearly rips your panties down your legs, settling it in a ball at his side. Heart leaping up into his jaw at the mere thought of getting his tongue into you.
Laving his tongue between your folds, Megumi licks up to your clit and circles the bud - his hips jerking down into the plush mattress when you jolt up and tug his hair. He pulls his head back only to pucker his lips and drool onto your hole, adding to the sloshing wetness before steadying his shaky fingers against you.
Sucking your clit into his mouth, Megumi begins softly. Caressing the bundle of nerves with his warm tongue, blending flat, broad strokes with precision dances of the muscle over you. Meanwhile, he slicks his middle finger into your hole and moans in response to your gasp.
When he’s sure you’re wet and stretched enough, he adds a second finger and curls them both upwards. The muscles in his arm will be aching tomorrow, but he shoves that to the back of his mind. He presses and scissors and dips inside you until the pads of his fingers find sponge, and he hits there, and there again. And again. And again. And again.
He hits there until you’re fully babbling, gushing against his swollen, pink lips and chin. And he’s starting to babble back.
Vibrations are loosely strewn together as ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘cum on me’ are bound against your clit as he nuzzles closer into your heat. Burying himself between your thighs and finding himself releasing a moan into your cunt when your thighs clenched tightly around his head. The fat of your thighs snug over his ears.
Releasing your clit from between his lips with a soft ‘pop’, Megumi flays his tongue onto the exposed nerve. Hot puffs of air leave him with each groan and whimper as his desperation to make you cum hammers over him.
Finally, you yank his hair again and snap your hips into his tongue; cunt sucking his fingers in even deeper. You squeeze around him, back arching, and his name singing from your lips.
Megumi unfurls his fingers as your cum splashes out onto his waiting tongue and chin, riding you through the hurls of pleasure until your twitching legs crash back onto the mattress. Slowly, he slides his fingers out of you before licking up your excess release from the divots in your thighs and your cunt.
Unwinding your fingers, you settle for soothing his stinging scalp with gentle pets.
Eventually sitting up, Megumi gasps for air as you do, staring down at his fingers. Shining with your wetness.
“Still hungry?” you tease, voice ripped at the edges.
“Actually?” Megumi shrugs, “A little.”
The cocky air has dissipated from your body. Once tense and lively limbs were now useless against the bed.
Megumi jams both fingers into his mouth and sucks off your cum.
“Insatiable!” you huff.
Rouge has overtaken Megumi’s cheeks - worse than before - and he can’t meet your eyes after having swallowed what remained of your soak. He leans over onto his elbow to avoid crushing you, “Only when it’s you… I don’t,” he waves his hand around, “do this often…”
“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
Megumi has to hide his grin, almost embarrassed to enjoy being praised, choosing to take up time looking around the room you’d shoved him into.
Idol posters with one constant member litter the walls. Pink concert tickets cover the desk. And many pictures with the same two people overwhelm Megumi’s sight. He feels an unsettled chill scrawl over his skin.
“Todo is going to kill me,” he grimaces.
“Was it worth it?”
Megumi doesn’t take long to respond, already trying to think of where and when he can get you under him again, “Definitely.”
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Megumi’s proper death is drowning via punani tsunami *thumbs up emoji*
324 notes · View notes
zsturiolosx · 26 days
Text
Overwhelmed
pairing: Chris x Reader
summary: You and your boyfriend, Chris, were fighting the whole day. The reason? You don’t know. He’s just been out of patience with you the whole day.
warning: angst, fighting, crying, fluff, cursing.
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Chris has been ignoring you, giving you short answers, and it’s been on your nerves.
What the fuck is wrong with him? Is something you said? Or did? But you can’t remember anything that got him angry with you.
You’re on his room, laying on his bed, on your phone. Chris is in his gaming chair, also checking his phone.
But every time you start talking to him, he snorts and after a second gets up and leaves the room. He has done this three times already.
You just wanted to talk to him, hear his voice without having that tone. You just wanted Chris to look at you without narrowed eyes.
Your body misses his touch and affection, but every time you try to understand what’s wrong, he leaves you alone.
You see him getting up and leaving the room, slamming the door as he leaves you alone, again.
You feel your eyes burning, but you hold your tears and sit up, waiting for him. After a couple of minutes, the door opens again, and Chris enters the room, too focused on his room to realize you were staring at him.
He sits back up in his chair, taking the hair off his eyes.
“Chris” You call him, you hear him taking a deep breath, but not answering.
“Chris” You say again, the brunette boy rolls his eyes at your voice, but he looks up and his angry gaze meet yours.
“What?” His voice was harsh and low, felt like a knife in your skin.
“What happened, Chris?” Your voice, different from his, was soft and nervous, as if you were stepping on eggs to talk to him. “Why are you acting like this?”
He scoffs, moving his head side to side.
“What are you talking about?” His smile now fades away, and she stares down at you, you feel your whole body burning with fear and anger. “Do I need to be fucking smiling every second?”
Your body trembles from the anger and rudeness in his voice. Your eyes burn again, but you can’t cry, not now, not infront of him.
“No, but I need you to talk to me and tell me what’s wrong” Your voice is faltering, you struggle to speak because of his gaze.
“Oh my god…” Chris whispers to himself, looking down, before screaming at you. “Nothing, okay?! Mind your business, jeez”
You feel anger growing inside you, you feel disappointed and sad, missing him and wanting him to stop this little tantrum.
“No, i’m not gonna mind my own business when you’re acting like this, so annoyed and mad and won’t tell me why!” You say louder than before, your hands shaking as you hold your phone. “Let’s just talk.”
Your voice failed to come out right in the last word, now it’s obvious how nervous you are. And you get even more nervous when Chris leaves his phone in his desk and gets up, looking down at you.
“Stop talking! You’re just yapping, yapping, yapping in my ear!” He snaps at you, your eyes watering as you try to stop it. “I have a fucking headache! So just shut the fuck up!”
How dare he tell you to shut up, when he damn well know that you hate when people do that. Ever since you were a kid, everybody tells you to be quiet, and you told Chris how that made you feel, and he promised never to make you feel that way again.
And he just broke your promise.
You feel your eyes water more and more, until a tear falls down your cheek. And one more tear, and more, more, more.
You can’t stop crying while Chris stares you with brows furrowed and dark eyes. You get up and leave the room, slamming the door.
As you find your way to his bathroom, you close the door and lock. You rest you back in the door and slides to the door.
Your whole body was trembling as whimpers and sobs leave your mouth quietly. Your tears made your whole face wet, mouth trembling. Your hand were tight around your knees, while you hide your face between your legs.
It just hurts so much the way he started yelling at you for wanting to fix the problem. The way he cursed and screamed for you to shut up, like he said he would never do.
You try to keep yourself from crying, but the whole day you felt overwhelmed and worried about your relationship, you were the whole day pushing these feeling away, until you snapped and couldn’t take it anymore.
You hear knocks in the other side of the door, you raise your head, hearing Chris on the other side.
“Y/n, baby.” His voice was muffled because of the door that kept you apart. “I’m so, so sorry. I am a fucking idiot, a dickhead. Please open the door.”
Chris begs, while you while the tears that rolled down your red cheek. “Go away” You say, angry.
He sighed, knocking softly on the door once again.
“Baby, please, i need to talk to you.” When he doesn’t hear anything back, Chris continues talking. “You have every right to want to never, ever talk to me again. I acted so stupid and so shitty, but i need you in my life, so let me please solve this.”
After a couple of seconds of silence, you get up and unlock the door, opening and seeing Chris, standing there, hands slightly shaking, his blue eyes now red.
“I am so sorry, so sorry I can’t even describe it with words.” He starts talking, his low and raspy voice making your knees tremble. “This week has been the worst, the fans are going crazy, I’m feeling overwhelmed, my head hurts 24/7.”
You hold your hand, squeezing your fingers together. The knot in your throat slowly fading away, as you feel your tears stopping.
“I’m an idiot, because I took it out on you, and you don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you, you are an angel, the girl of my dreams.” Chris’s voice was stuttering, as he slowly reaches your hand. He grabs your hand and interlock your fingers together.
“Chris…” You start talking, your voice was careful, slow. But before you could continue your sentence, Chris interrupts you.
“And I know this doesn’t explain anything.” You can see the fear in his eyes. “But I was afraid, afraid of us, our relationship.”
You frown your brows, confused, without understanding what he means.
“I was afraid because I’m feeling things I have never felt before.” Chris steps closer to you, his fast breathing hitting you. “I love you, Y/n. So much that it makes me afraid.”
Your heart drops, as you feel your breath run out of your body. Your heart beat was so fast it looked like your heart was about to jump out of your chest.
It was the first time Chris said that to you, and you knew how afraid of relationships he was.
Chris looks down, his hair covering his red blue eyes, his hands trembling while still holding yours.
“Chris” You say, grabbing gently his chin and making you look at you. “I love you too.”
His face instantly lightens up, as he smiles and holds you face with both of his hands. Chris leans up closer to you, lips meeting yours.
His soft and pink lips touch yours so delicate, asking for passage for his tongue to meet yours, exploring every detail of your mouth. His hands were holding your face like he was afraid you were gonna escape.
You can feel his heartbeat as his chest touches yours, both of your breathing accelerated.
Chris interrupted the kiss, his forehead resting in your, as you feel his eyes on you mouth the whole time. His thumbs were gently cleaning the rest on tears that were in the corner of your eyes.
“I’m so happy to have you, and please, never shut up.”
203 notes · View notes
fadedmunson · 4 months
Text
rose blood | r. sanchez
pairings ; rick sanchez x gn!reader (no use of y/n)
summary ; MAJOR SPOILERS ending of 7x05 (unmortricken) when you try to be there for rick's numb state
genre ; insanely sad angst ;( bit of fluff at the end, established relationship (?) no labels on it but you're close
notes ; i've loved this show for quite so i'm quite surprised i haven't written for r&m sooner. use of curse words
wc ; 0.7k sooo pretty short
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"morty, you can’t come! evil morty, stay out of my way! gonna kill my nemesis! rick out!"
that's all you manage to hear as you get down to the basement a couple second too late.
you pause right as you opened the door to his lab.
"wait did rick say he was going after prime?" your eyes widen and you began to tense up at the thought of rick no longer thinking with his head.
you pause your thinking when you see two morty's, your morty and one with an eye-patch.
"-oh hey evil morty, didn't think i'd ever see you here." you simpered
his eyes narrowed, "trust me, theres alot i would've done to avoid being here in the first place."
"you’re an asshole." your morty grumbled
"well, yeah. I’m not “good” morty."
he opens a yellow portal to follow rick you assume.
"come or don’t. i don’t care."
you get snapped out of your haze
"actually, fuck this. if he wants to go out there and get himself killed he can be my guest." you quickly turn you head and leave the basement sublevel.
you're not his babysitter, but you're still a little worried for the old man. It's not everyday you finally find the person who killed your daughter and wife.
you quickly head up to his room and try to collect all of your thoughts
you begin pacing around the room as your heart rate picks up
rick found prime, morty and evil morty followed him, is evil morty going to kill prime or rick?, why is evil morty even there?, and is this all a trap?
to distract yourself, you take a nap on his bed cot to just put a pause on everything for now.
sure it's uncomfortable, but it'll do
your quick 30 minute napped turned into three hours and you wake up in a sweaty, thirsty daze.
you walk into the kitchen, greet beth and grab a bottle of water
you walk into the garage in time to see rick and morty just back from their battle
morty smiles and waves at you
"crazy fucking day today haha, jeez."
you gave him a light smile and ruffled his hair
once he was out of the room you got a good look at rick and your smile immediately dissipated.
he look disheveled, covered in a shit-ton of blood (a mixture of his and prime's) a broken nose, black eyes, and scratches littering his body
that didn't phase you, what did was the emotionless look on his face
he turned to you, but it didn't look like he was fully there.
"rick," your voice is tight
you don't even know how to articulate yourself, you've never seen him like this.
"that's a lot of blood." you awkwardly chuckle.
"yeah," his voice is toneless.
you quickly reach out to hold his hand, but the quick flinch withheld you.
"well, what are you gonna do now?"
he just looked up from the floor and shrugged his shoulders.
"i can stay, if you want."
he stays silent
you quickly move to sit on the floor against his counters and you pat the space next to you.
he moves to sit next to you and closes his eyes in the comfortable silence.
you move to rest your head in his chest and kiss the parts of his hand without any blood on them while intertwining them with yours.
"i'll stay right here with you, rick. you don't have to be alone."
you hear his body shake as he tries to quietly but violently cries into your hair.
you turn to hold him in your arms as you let the sobs turn into sniffles and then into stuttering breaths.
he grabs onto you like he'll lose you at any moment, and you kiss his tears away while whispering "we're okay," and "i'm not going anywhere."
"can we stay like this for a little?" he quietly rasped out
your mouth curved into a smile "of course, but after this we should get you cleaned up." you open your eyes to stroke his cheek and lock lips.
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lost-in-lamentation · 11 months
Text
new feelings
a/n: i want to scratch behind his ears. he’d love it and i’m right about this. also what was supposed to be a short drabble ended in a mini fic. apologies.
content: nightbringer satan is a force to be reckoned with, until he meets you. featuring mammon being a good brother.
warnings: satan is (somewhat) mad.
slight angst, mostly fluff. hurt/comfort. satan x gen!reader (you/your).
word count: 1.5k.
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after a long day of errands, you returned to the house of lamentation to drop off some food for the seven lords. even if they weren’t the brothers from your original timeline, you knew they caused just as much trouble as the ones you were already accustomed to living with. so, to no one’s surprise, you walked through the front door only to be greeted by a half destroyed hallway. a grimace blanketed your face as you took in your surroundings. you weren’t taken aback by how much damage was done, but rather by the sight of mammon rushing to get everything clean. “mammon,” you called out, placing the bags you were carrying down at your feet. “what happened?”
the second eldest snapped his head around at the sound of his name. you wondered if it was relief that flickered across his face when he made eye contact with you. “jeez, it’s just you. thought lucifer was home early.” he quickly returned to work, throwing pieces of what you assumed was a broken vase into a nearby trash can. “satan got mad, ended up nearly breaking the place.”
“is he okay?” you picked up your bags again, moving to drop them off in the doorway that led to the kitchen.
mammon shrugged to you from the other side of the hall. “dunno. told him that if he went to his room and calmed down, i wouldn’t tell lucifer what happened.”
the pieces clicked inside your head. “ah, that’s why you got worried when i came in.” mammon shot you a nod while he kept cleaning. “and that’s why you’re working so hard for once.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?!” his golden eyes flashed at the remark angrily. “tch, just don’t want lucifer yellin’ at him again. satan ends up worse than he was if lucifer starts with the lectures. now either help me or scram, you’re distracting me.”
you were glad to see that even in this timeline, mammon was still mammon. “i’m gonna go check on satan then.”
suddenly, mammon appeared directly in front of you. “oi, i don’t need ya making him more angry than he is.” you wondered what sort of thoughts the second born was having. “so… if you go, be careful. don’t say anything dumb, you hear me?!”
“i wouldn’t dare,” you replied with a smile. mammon said nothing in return, but instead gave you a huff before going to throw the broken vase away. quietly, you turned on your heel and started making your way over to the blonde's room. a part of you was worried; this satan hadn't completely warmed up to you the same way the one you knew had. of course, you were working on it, but with the way things were, satan proved to be an even harder challenge the second time around. when you arrived at his room, you debated whether to knock or to call for him through the door. satan ended up making the decision for you.
"lucifer, if that's you out there, i am going to throw every single one of my cursed books at you," satan shouted, his voice threatening.
talking through the door it is, you thought. “it’s just me,” you called, keeping your voice light. “can i come in?” you held your breath for a while, waiting and hoping for permission. satan never responded, but you heard the sound of his door unlocking. relieved, you exhaled softly, opening the door just enough to poke your head inside. “satan?” you internally cursed at the way his room was practically pitch black. his figure was barely visible, and your only guiding lights were his glinting green eyes. you shut the door behind you, locking it again so you didn’t risk the brothers (lucifer) walking in. with equal parts memory and guessing, you made your way across the room without knocking a stack of books over. “hi,” you whispered to him, crouching just a bit in front of him.
“hey,” satan whispered back after a few seconds of silence. you ignored the way his voice wavered at the end.
you waited to see if he would keep talking, but you only saw his irises disappear from sight as he closed his eyes. “can i sit next to you?”
the way his eyes fluttered open reminded you of the way you had seen black cats with green eyes in the dark. it was captivating, if you were going to be honest. distracted by how they looked, you almost missed the way his gaze darted between you and the spot next to him. you obliged happily and settled yourself next to him, making sure there was enough distance between the two of you before leaning back onto the bed frame that propped you up.
after some time, satan shifted in his position next to you. “why are you in here?” his voice was rough, almost akin to a snarl.
“i’m your attendant. i’m supposed to make sure everyone is doing okay.” you answered plainly, but satan wasn’t satisfied. you could hear the way his breath sharpened. “plus, you did agree to let me in.”
the avatar of wrath clicked his tongue, the end of his tail tapping the floor repeatedly, “you could have just asked from outside. you shouldn’t come in when i’m… like this.” satan kept his eyes trained on the ground, refusing to meet yours.
“like what, satan?”
satan stood up abruptly, forcing you to shuffle to the side and fall back onto your hands. “like this, MC,” he growled, his face hovering just in front of yours. “while i’m angry, while i barely have any control over what i’m doing or saying. why would you come here knowing that?!”
it took a moment for you to gain your bearings. his breaths were shallow, rapid, and he bared his teeth at you menacingly. slowly, you reached for your d.d.d., pulling it out of your pocket and tapping the screen awake. “you wanna see the cat i found while walking over here?”
the expression on satan’s face morphed into confusion when you pointedly ignored what he asked. “that… that’s not answering my question,” he started mumbling. the demon stared at you, his wrath slowly being replaced by hesitant curiosity. “you’re not afraid of the fact that i might rampage?”
smiling gently, you shook your head. you were still waiting for the question that the satan in your timeline would have asked. “i took some nice pictures of her. she was a really pretty blue-”
satan grabbed your hand in his, pushing it down so your phone wasn’t blocking his line of sight towards you. “you’re not afraid of me?”
there it is. you shook your head again, your free hand tugging on his to pull him down next to you. “of course not.” your hand opened to free his own, but satan only grasped onto you tighter when you tried to let go.
“why not?”
“why would i be?” you watched as the emotions danced through his eyes. hints of confusion, anger, and wonder all took their turns in his gaze. it- no, he was mesmerising. he always has been to you.
relenting, satan finally slumped into the spot next to you, his hand still holding yours tightly. his head hovered above your shoulder, and his other hand reached out, unsure of where his boundaries lay. “all of them have told you i’m dangerous. that i’m just the angry version of lucifer.” you felt him press into your side tentatively. his shaking breaths did well to betray the enraged expression he wore on his face.
“well, i think that you’re satan.” it was like your heart shattered when you heard the blonde choke up. you placed your d.d.d. on the floor, reaching up to guide his head to finally rest on your shoulder. satan flinched at the contact on his head, but soon relaxed into your touch when he felt your fingertips press into all the right spots. “you’re not so dangerous; they just don’t know how to deal with some things yet.”
satan pressed his face into you, his eyelashes tickling the side of your neck. you couldn’t help but remember why you had fallen for your own satan. “some things being me?” his question was accompanied by a light sniffle.
you pretended not to hear it. “yeah, but they’ll come around. i know they will.” you observed the way satan clenched and unclenched his fist; you remembered it as a nervous habit of his. “call it a gut feeling.” murmuring, you touched your cheek to the top of his head, testing the waters that were his emotions. when satan didn’t pull away, you fully rested your head on top of his, praying that he would accept you.
beside you, satan released a sigh that shuddered through his core. you felt him squeeze your hand one more time before he gave in to you, his entire body falling against yours. there were many things that he was feeling, but satan could only focus on the way you made him feel safe. it was new for him. the fourth born didn’t always deal well with new emotions, but maybe just this once, he’d welcome it with an open heart.
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a/n: i love him i love him i lo
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seattlesellie · 1 year
Text
mirage
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pairing: ellie williams x reader
summary: ellie doesnt like you. she cant. and then she does. but fuck, she cant.
warnings: suggestive themes, cursing, not proofread, lowercase on purpose
authors note: just wrote this on my phone. lil blurb abt ellie and u on a hot summer day and theres nothing i love more than ellie being pissed and reader being a sunshine, literally.
it was a hot, summer day. one of those days where your lips get swollen from the dryness of the air, and your breathing gets heavier with every step you take. the sun was cooking you up, quite literally. you could just feel the stinging pain of the sunburn forming on your shoulders.
what didn’t help this situation was at all was patrol. neither was the fact that your patrol partner was ellie. ellie motherfucking williams. the one girl that made your blood boil, the only person in the world you had to walk on fucking eggshells with, since every word you said, every sentence you formed, seemed to piss her off. she was like a mosquito to you, buzzing in your ear, not letting you sleep, never giving you any peace. was it your sweet voice that made her mad? was it your light steps, compared to her heavy ones? was it maybe the sound of your laughter filling up the room - every time she walked in? you couldn’t quite point your finger at it. something about you ate her up alive, biting forcefully.
“just fucking walk already” she said, dominating as ever. it wasnt her fault the flowers bloomed so beautifully - you had to get another look.
you stared her down, frowning at her demand, still crunched up with your nose deep in the blossom of the white daisies.
“i just wanted to see the fucking flowers, ellie. lighten up, jeez” you said, getting up quickly, trying to hide the fact that you were hurt at her words. it wasnt like you liked her or anything, but something about her made you want, no, need her to accept you. everyone else did. dina fucking loved you from the moment you walked in to jackson, all hurt and disheveled, jesse thought you were the fucking coolest and hell - even joel took a liking to you. everyone but her.
“just be useful for once and walk” she demanded, yet again.
you picked out a small flower, sighing at your patrol partner’s unwanted words.
“we need to clear this house and then you can go flower picking or whatever the fuck” ellie said, rolling her eyes so far back into her head you thought she might have an aneurism. her voice was stinging you harder than a bee.
“fine” you muttered. if you weren’t so small, figuratively speaking, compared to the auburn haired girl, you might have even cussed her out. told her she could go fuck off, do the patrol on her own and abandon you. but you couldn’t, because you were you, and she was ellie, and she always got the last word.
“fine” she spat back, and threw her hand ever so carelessly at the air so you could get the clue and follow her lead.
you followed her, keeping quite a large distance between the two of you. somehow, you swore to god himself, you could feel her. she wasn’t even close to you at that point, and yet her presence was still haunting you in the most physical sense of the word. her steps on the drying leaves - loud, stomping them. mad. her backpack - slamming against her back, making a small thump with every hit.
“could you walk any louder?” you said, raising your voice so she could hear you over the sounds of her own stomps.
“i could, actually” ellie retreated, sarcastic as ever. her voice was dry - was it her annoyance at her inexperienced, ever so easily distracted patrol partner? or was it the hot, dry, summer air bathing in her lungs?
she started purposely stomping even harder, all in order to piss you off. she loved seeing just what made you tick. one step closer to breaking you completely. for some reason - she needed it. needed you to tell her you were done, needed you to tell her to back off, to stop being so fucking mean. but you never did. the why of it all killed her. why didn’t you just put her in her place? why didnt you snap already? and why did she need to know so damn bad?
“real mature” you said, followed by a deep sigh. honestly, you were too busy focusing on how your sweat made your white tank top stick to the bottom of your breasts right now. too busy by your own uncomfortableness to give in to her bickering.
and then - you spotted it. the clear water almost blinding you with the reflection of the glistening sun. a lake. the lake. dina told you all about it, how when you take this patrol road, theres the most beautiful lake hidden by a number of trees. how jesse and her were convinced they were hallucinating as a result of the glaring sun, but when they realized it was real, not some mirage, they ran so fast dina almost tripped on a wire and took a dip, getting lost at the feeling of the cool water against their burning skin.
“ellie!” you shouted with excitement, like a little kid who spotted his favorite gummy at the candy store. when she didnt turn around - pretending to ignore you, you ran so fast to her you practically almost bumped into her back.
“ellie, look!” you exclaimed, pulling at her backpack and physically turning her around. she seemed startled, looking for any signs of danger, ignoring the huge smile on your face that would have pointed to her that the only danger was you.
“what? what?” she said, a bit frantic, already reaching over with her hand to grab her trusty switchblade. infected she could handle - but you and infected? she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pull through.
“the lake!” you were jumping up and down, still holding the back of her backpack, making her move with every leap.
she looked at you with a confused face, eyebrows squint together, her nose slightly scrunched. if you didnt find her so insufferable, you might have even thought that was the cutest face youve ever seen.
“wha…- what lake?” she said, eyes scanning the area. ellie williams - the ever so diligent.
“are you blind? look-“ you said, pointing at a bunch of trees.
“are you okay? are you having a heatstroke?” ellie said, half serious - half amused, looking at you up and down.
“just-“ you said, and grabbed her arm forcefully in order to guide her through. she didnt know if you could feel it, or if she had imagined it, but the contact of your small hand on her wrist made her pulse fasten. or maybe - it was the possibility of danger. she would definitely have preferred the latter. that was her reason to her heart dropping to her boxers. danger, not you. not the touch of the pretty girl, definitely not that.
she let you guide her - while her conflicting thoughts ate her burning skin up.
“faster, ellie c’mon!” you said, panting as you walked faster and faster, dragging the girl behind you.
jesus. those words, coming out of your delicate lips, they arose something in her, yet again. did she wish you said them in a different context? shit up, stupid fucking brain, shut the fuck up. the green eyed girl thought to herself. not her.
“i swear to god - if youre trying to kill me or something, ill fucking stab you” she said, still following your lead.
“you would be dead” you extorted back, with a stupid grin on your face you were grateful she didn’t catch. as if.
finally, you were there. you weren’t hallucinating, this was a fucking lake. and if you weren’t with that certain auburn haired girl, you would have taken all your clothes off and jumped right in. gosh, it was so fucking tempting.
“ta da!” you said, beaming, borderline salivating at the thought of the cool clear water caressing your skin.
“no” she deadpanned and walked away slowly, eyes glued to the lake, and then to you.
“i’m not doing that” ellie said.
“what? you cant swim?” you said, poking at her shoulder.
playful. you were being playful. and she didn’t know how to fucking react.
“i can fucking swim” she said with a sigh, hand forming a fist. what an grumpy toddler you thought to yourself.
“were on fucking patrol, y/n, i’m not going in” she said, certain of herself. she wasn’t supposed to lose control around you.
“suit yourself, williams, i’m taking a dip” you said with a sly smile, batting your eyelashes sarcastically at the girl. she let out a small chuckle, and then coughed.
she doesn’t get to have you like this, ellie, get it fucking together.
and then, without warning - you started stripping, desperately trying to get the sticky fabric away from you.
“jesus” she said with a loud voice, panicked look on her face - as if she walked in on someone doing the wrong thing. her eyes were flickering over everything that wasnt you. the tree, the ground, her feet, the lake. she could have turned around, she knew she could. but that wouldve made it even weirder.
first - it was your tank top. and then - your pants. and stupidly enough, you thought you could make her laugh. so what you did - was starting to unclasp your delicate pink bra, almost taking it off.
“what the fuck?!” ellie panicked again, and this time - she turned. it wasn’t because she didnt want to see, she didnt want you to see. her face was burning up - cheeks red as a rose.
“i’m fucking kidding, jesus ellie - i wasn’t gonna skinny dip… not with you around, anyways”
the joke landed terribly. ellie didnt find you stripping in front of her to be funny - it was anything but.
you kicked the sand under your shoes, awkwardness sending a shiver down your spine. you started fighting with your bra, trying to clasp in back on, but your clumsy hands, and the fact that you had your underboob on display in front of ellie made your hands shake even more. what the fucking hell were you thinking.
“fuck” you murmured, followed by a bunch of annoyed grunting at your failed attempt to clasp it back on,
“shit!” you were full on battling with it now.
ellie was just there. standing still, fidgeting with her hands.
“help me?” you said in a quite voice, shameful.
she let out a breathy laugh followed by an “ahh”
“fuck you, fix your own mess” she chuckled to herself.
got you.
“s’not funny, i cant do it!” you said, visibly frustrated.
“nope” she said, popping the p. she sounded so fucking satisfied with herself.
“fix your own mess” you mimicked, mocking her with a high pitched voice.
“did you just fucking mock me?” that was the last straw. she turned around, crossing her hands, still somehow trying to avoid your gaze. she was in her element now. and the element was anger. embarrassment, awkwardness, she couldn’t do - not anymore. but anger? that was her.
you were still fidgeting with your stupid bra, but somehow managed to keep your tits from spilling out.
“help. me.” you demanded, shooting arrows at her with your gaze.
“beg.” she extorted, eyes filled with pride. she couldn’t let that one go.
“pfft” you rolled your eyes- trying to ignore the butterflies creeping up on you. why did she make you feel like this?
“never” you said, trying to keep your composure, hands flailing behind you.
she walked towards you, slowly, like an animal who found her prey. she was a lion - you, a lamb. a half naked one.
she got even closer.
“then i’m not helping” she said, ever so casually. her her eyes - everything but casual.
part 2?
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worldlxvlys · 4 months
Note
FOR THE DWB W MATT PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE DO A FIC WHERE HE COMES OVER N THE GUY IS STILL THERE I WANNA SEE WHAT WOULD HAPPEN🙏🏻🙏🏻 YOU DONT HAVE TO THO ID JUST LOVE TO SEE IT👁️👁️
lose your shit
dwb! matt x reader
warnings: mentions of sex, violence, mentions of blood, cursing
based on these texts, it won’t really make sense if you don’t read them.
a/n: the guy’s name is alex, i hope you like this <333
shit shit shit shit.
this is not good. i look over to the man laying in my bed, he was in a dead sleep.
matt doesn’t live that far away, maybe 10 minutes tops. however, he could have left before he even sent that text.
fuck.
i began to shake alex awake. “you gotta wake up, dude”
after a few seconds, he stirred and opened his eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asked, letting out a yawn.
“nothing. you just really need to fucking go”
“alright damn, but what’s the rush?”
“please just hurry up, i don’t have time for this” i said, pulling him off the bed.
“damn, was the sex that bad?” i didn’t even answer, just looked him up and down.
“alright, jeez” i collected his clothes from the floor and handed them to him.
he took the hint, beginning to get dressed.
when he was done he just stood there.
“was there something else you needed?” i asked trying to figure out why he wouldn’t leave.
“can i at least brush my teeth?”
“does this look like a fucking hotel to you? take your shit, and get out. now.” i answered, starting to get annoyed.
he just stared at me, mouth open.
“you do have a tooth brush and running water at your house, correct?”
“well, yeah. but-“
“ok that is amazing, lovely, the quicker you get out of my house, the quicker you can take care of your dental hygiene” i said nudging him out of my room.
i pushed him all the way to my door. maybe there is hope for this man after all.
when i opened the door, there stood matt.
fucking hell.
that has to be the worst timing i’ve ever had in my entire life.
his eyes immediately snapped toward alex. “what the fuck are you doing here?”
“i could ask you the same thing, matty-boy”
they know each other.
the two men stared at each other, never breaking the intense glare.
“oh great! you two know each other! well, alex was just about to head home so, y’all can catch up later” i said, trying to get him to walk away.
“actually, i think i’m gonna stay” he said, looking matt up and down.
well, shit.
this was like something out of a god damn movie. and while it didn’t surprise me that matt was acting this way, i wasn’t expecting this from alex.
alex did not seem like the type of guy to start a fight, he seemed more like the type to run away from one. he simply wasn’t built for it, at least, that’s what i thought.
matt clenched his jaw before grabbing alex by his shirt, pulling him outside and pushing him against my house.
“jesus christ, matt” i said in shock.
“what ya gonna do matty? gonna hit me?” matt did just that, swinging at alex’s face.
“you need to stay the fuck away from her. got it?”
“no can do, matty pooh. i can’t lie, she’s a good fuck”
matt didn’t like his comment, as he pulled his fist back to punch alex again.
alex, however, was quicker this time. he caught matt’s fist with one hand and swung at him with the other.
yeah, i was definitely wrong about alex.
“hey fuckers! i don’t know if you’ve noticed but my house is white. it’d be lovely if you didn’t get blood on it !” i yelled, making matt turn his head towards me.
alex took advantage of matt’s distraction to land another blow to matt’s face.
that shit looked like it hurt.
i then pulled matt away, placing myself between the two.
“you two need to get a fucking grip” i turned to alex. “walk away before i call the cops on your ass”
i turned to matt, “you’ve made your point, let him go”
matt gave him one last glare before gesturing alex to go. with that, alex walked off “your face isn’t the only place i left marks ” he mumbled.
matt started to walk after him, but i placed my hand on his chest to stop him.
i tilted my head at him, looking into his eyes. “it’s fine. just let him go” he looked at me, eyes softening, and nodded.
once i heard alex’s car door shut and him drive away, i pulled matt inside “come on”.
i brought him to my bathroom, pulling out my first aid kit.
“did he actually mark you up?” he asked, as i grabbed a wash cloth for his face.
“no, matt. he was just trying to get under your skin” i said as i ran water over the cloth and brought it to his face.
i began to clean his cuts, making him grimace. “i know, i know. sorry”
my tongue poked out a little past my lips, as i continued to clean his cuts.
he stared down at my lips the whole time, not saying a word.
“all done.” i said as i finished up. i started to reach over him to grab a bandage. “lemme just grab a-“ he suddenly grabbed my arm halting my movements as he studied my face.
my face felt hot under his gaze, as i tried not to show how nervous he made me. without another word, he grabbed my face, pulling me in for a kiss.
he kissed me with passion, like he was pouring all of his emotions into it. it wasn’t hungry or lust-driven. it said all the things that we could never say to each other’s faces.
he pulled away, pressing his forehead to mine. “what was that for?” i asked, eyes still closed.
“i need you to know that i care about you” my eye opened at this, staring into mine.
“i’m not using you for sex. i could never do that, baby. and i’m so sorry i ever made you feel that way. you are the most important thing to me. i can’t lose you, and i couldn’t live with myself if i let anything happen to you.”
he pecked my nose.
“i know that you’re capable of making your own decisions, and i’m not trying to take that away from you. but i know that guy and he’s not the type of person you want to be around. i can’t just watch him ruin you.” he moves a piece of hair out of my face.
“so i’m sorry that i just showed up here. i’m sorry i lost my shit. i’m sorry about the blood on your house” we both chuckled.
“but i can’t help it when it comes to you, you drive me crazy”
“hmm i don’t know i kinda like it when you lose your shit, it’s hot” i said as our noses touched.
he pushed my hips against my sink.
“good” he said as he went in for another kiss.
🌀🌀🌀🌀
hope you liked :)
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @sosmatt @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4
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books-and-catears · 29 days
Text
Solomon: Hey guys I'm here to pick up MC today, are they done helping you sort your daily chaos?
Satan: You're rather late. Their designated time to leave is 2 hours ago.
Solomon: Wait...MC changed their hours? Since when?
Belphegor: Since you went on that Ocean trip or whatever.
Lucifer: But MC did say it's only a temporary thing and they seemed really occupied with something so we eventually allowed it...
Asmo: Yeah but we were so not happy about it! Just what happened on that trip, Solomon?!
Solomon: But if MC left for home then I should have seen them on the way...
Leviathan: Lol ask Mammon where they are, he's constantly stalking MC.
Mammon: Am not, ya liar!
Solomon: I see you have decidedly ignored the last conversation we had regarding MC.
Mammon: Damnit he's back with that creepy smile again!
Solomon: Which way did MC go, Mammon?
Mammon: Jeez overprotective much!? MC can handle themself you know-
Solomon: Mammon.
Mammon: Jeez okay okay, they just walk by the Devildom beach practicing some sort of water magic with the ocean I don't know! But I assure MC is fine! Also don't tell I told you please!
Solomon: The ocean...
Solomon: There you are, MC.
MC: I- How did you- Who snitched on me?!
Solomon: I'm sorry I promised not to reveal his identity.
MC: Damnit Mammon.
Solomon: Ahaha looks like me not revealing it didn't help at all. So...what is it you're doing here, hmm?
Solomon: ...why?
MC: Remember when you told me your magic had potent destruction and attack powers useful in battle...
MC: I started training my powers to make strong shields and better healing.
Solomon: Yes..
MC: Well after what you told me on that trip, I'm...trying to get the Ocean's blessing.
Solomon: ....
MC: I know you cant get rid of your curse and I know you have enough magic to not care about it anymore...but that trip was the first time I'd seen you... afraid. I hated it.
MC: So I'm trying to restore and help with anything that's broken or cursed in there. A lot of fish helped bring random artefacts to the shore which I have been working on...and I finally got the blessing today.
MC: So no you longer have to be afraid or even uncertain down there.
Solomon: ...you turn my shortcomings...into your strengths?
MC: I aim to be your perfect complement when it comes to magic. So that if we ever have to fight - we'll have all bases covered. And nothing can pose a threat to us.
Solomon: *hugs them tight* And I thought I was supposed to be protecting you, MC.
MC: *smiles* The protector needs to be protected too.
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bitchinbarzal · 3 months
Note
72. "Any excuse to get me to undress, huh?" with ryan leonard
“Take off your jersey” you grumble, trying to find the first aid kit.
“Any excuse to get me to undress, huh?” Ryan smirks and you just roll your eyes.
“Just take it off asshat”
He lets out a “jeez” before pulling it over his head while you balance the first aid box on his thigh.
Skating at an ODR is all fun and games until your teammate forgets he’s not playing a game and hits you in the stomach with a slap shot.
You hiss at the sight of the cut its left, dabbing alcohol on it. The pain makes Ryan flinch, his hands grabbing your waist on instinct.
“Ry…” you mumble “I’m done, just gonna wrap this gauze then you have to go see doc when he’s back on Monday”
He silently agrees, his hands never leaving your waist even as you reached around his body to wrap it. Once you were done and tied the ends together you tapped his chest
“All done”
“My girl, what would I do without you?”
You looked up, smiling “Be bored, have no funny friends and actually never laugh”
“Hmm funny” he replies “You take good care of me, yanno?”
“Sometimes I’m too good to you Leno”
“Don’t I know it” jumping down off the table he sat on, he grabs his jersey and hoodie, putting the jersey back on before holding out the hoodie to you.
“Wha-“
“I saw you shivering standing there, put it on”
“Ry, no-“
“Y/N… please” he all but pleads and you give in
“Yeah, ok” you take the hoodie, slipping it over your head and flapping the too long arms around giving Ryan a smile while admiring you.
“Looks good on you”
“Really?”
“Yeah i could get used to this sight” he mummers, you watch him lean in closer until the door swings open
“Dude you gotta get out here this is insane!”
You look at one another awkwardly “Let’s go then”
Hanging back, Ryan curses “I almost had it that time!”
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ladykailitha · 1 year
Text
If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 1
Since I am in the middle of a poll about how to end “Can Anybody See Me?” (which you can vote on here) I am putting it on pause until it finishes on Saturday. I’ll still be working on it, I just won’t be posting until after it’s done. (Which if it keeps going like it is, end of season 4).
This story started out as a beautiful (and SHORT) story about Steve taking Eddie to the Ozzy Osborne/Metalica concert and turned into a full on season 4 fix-it (it’s 6000+ and counting *wails*).
Summary: Steve realizes after the aftermath of Vecna that he’s in love with Eddie. When he finds out that he was trying to get enough money to get to the Ozzy Osborne/Metallica concert in Indy in a week, he decides to woo Eddie via the most important concert of Eddie’s young life.
*
Things had gotten a little hairy when the demobats tried to break through the vents of the trailer. Eddie looked up at the sheet ladder and then back out at the sounds of screeching and scrambling as the bats fought to get to him and Dustin.
He knew they had no way to close the gate on the other side. That once the bats got into the trailer the wide world of Hawkins would be next. They would be next. He sighed. He knew what he had to do. With a heavy heart and broad swipe of his spear he cut the ladder.
Eddie zipped up his jacket and grabbed his shield and spear. He led the demobats away on one of the bikes. Got pretty damn far before the tire hit a divot in the hell space known as the Upside-Down. He rolled into the dirt and tried to get up. The shield and spear tangled together making it hard to stand. Once he was able to get to his feet he roared at the bats.
Eddie was able to stand his ground for a while but he started to wear out. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer. What was taking them so long?
And then it happened the swarm came at him full force and he was knocked to the ground. He brought up his hands and knees trying to protect as much of his body as he could. But they were relentless. Just when he thought all hope was gone, suddenly the bats fell.
The air was filled with screaming of a different kind now and it sounded like his name.
He brought down his arms and looked up to see Dustin kneeling over him crying.
“Hey, bud,” Eddie whispered. “I’m fine.”
“Why would you do that?” Dustin screamed. “Why?”
Eddie reached out and cupped his cheek. “Because they were breaking through. They were going to get you.”
“We could have fought them together,” Dustin choked out.
Eddie shook his head. “Steve would have killed me if you got hurt.”
“Damn right I would have,” Steve said.
Dustin stood up, whirling around to face him. “Steve! Eddie’s hurt!”
Steve rushed over and immediately pulled out the first aid kit they bought when they got their other supplies.
“What did I tell you about not being a hero, Munson?” Steve growled as he pulled out bottled water and gauze.
“Dustin...” Eddie gurgled.
Steve looked up at his face and swore. “Shit! They got you good.” He set down the gauze and pulled out a large cotton pad and pressed it to Eddie’s neck.
“Dustin,” Steve snapped, “We need to find a way to transport him. Are you able to do that for me?”
Dustin nodded and immediately got on the bike Eddie had biffed on. The front tire was a bit wobbly but it would do in a pinch.
Robin and Nancy came running up. Robin skidded to a stop and turned away, suddenly ill. Nancy was at Steve’s side in an instant.
“Hold down the pad,” Steve bit out. “I need it in place so I can wrap it.”
She nodded and took over holding the pad to the bleeding coming from Eddie’s neck. Steve quickly wrapped the gauze around it and then unzipped the jacket.
Eddie coughed. “Take me out to dinner first, jeez, Harrington.”
“Shut up, shut up,” Steve murmured. “Just please shut up for once in your god damned life. So I can save it.”
Eddie smiled, showing blood on his teeth.
“Fuck!” Steve cursed. “I hope you didn’t like this jacket, man. It’s pretty much gone at this point.”
The demobats had shredded the jacket’s sleeves and even one or two had gotten past the many layers Eddie had on. But the bites were shallow. Not like Steve’s.
His legs were a bit worse for wear too.
Just then Dustin had come back with a metal covering that they had used to shore up the trailer, dragging behind the bike.
Steve looked up and smiled. “Good job, Dusty!” He turned to his best friend. “Robin!”
She glanced at Eddie and then turned her head up so she wasn’t looking at him directly. “He’s bad, Steve.”
“I know, but I need all four of us to carry him,” he explained softly. “Can you do that for me?”
She looked him in the eye. “Yeah. For Eddie.”
They managed to get him on the makeshift stretcher and Nancy stepped up to grab one of the corners.
Steve held out his hand. “Wait! We need to keep it as level as possible. Dustin you take that corner. Nancy you go out in front and find us the safest path.”
Nancy opened her mouth to protest but she knew he was right. She was much shorter than the rest of them and it would only hurt Eddie more.
“Why can’t we just drag him behind the bike?” Dustin asked, still doing what he was told.
“Because we need to move fast but smooth,” Steve said. “Everyone at three, lift. One, two, three!” They all lifted together.
“The bike would be smooth,” Dustin protested.
“Not for Eddie,” Steve said. “Now, move.”
They walked as fast as they could to the nearest gate. Which unfortunately was the Lover’s Lake gate.
Steve stopped in front of the gate and closed his eyes tightly. “Right, Eds,” he murmured. “This is where you get off the ride.”
Eddie made a sound that vaguely resembled a chuckle.
“How are we going to get him through the gate?” Robin asked, shifting nervously from side to side.
“You and Nancy are going to go up first and get the boat,” Steve explained. “Then Dustin will swim to the surface. He’ll come get me once you two are in place.”
“Where is this coming from?” Nancy asked. “I thought you weren’t the planning type.”
Steve took a deep breath and pretended that didn’t hurt.
“No, no,” Robin said waving her hands. “He’s good at emergency shit like this. Like, really good.”  
“It’s all the first aid training,” Steve said tamping down on the anger that threatened to rise to the surface. “Now go. I’ll send Dustin up in ten minutes.”
Dustin looked down at Eddie. “Ten minutes is too long, Steve.”
Steve grabbed Dustin’s arms. “It’ll be enough. I’m not going to let him die on us, I promise.”
Dustin nodded and watched as Robin and Nancy dove through the gate.
Ten minutes later Dustin did too. About a minute after that, Dustin was back to help Steve bring Eddie back to the surface.
They struggled but were able to get Eddie onto the boat. Once they got to shore they were able to call for an ambulance.
The four of them watched as Eddie was taken to the hospital.
Steve took a deep breath. “Right. We need to clean up and get to the hospital.”
“No.”
Steve looked at Nancy. “There is an ambulance coming for you, too. I want those bites looked at by professional.”
Steve wanted to argue but as the adrenaline wore off, he swayed on his feet.
Robin caught him before he fell. “We’ll call...” she stopped. There wasn’t anyone for her to call. Not for Steve. The people that would care were all here.
“Wayne Munson,” Nancy finished. “Let him know Eddie’s at the hospital from an animal attack. We’ll also radio the party and all meet up at the hospital.”
Distantly he could here the sounds of the sirens coming for him before his world went black.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20
Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369  @itsall-taken @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog
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obae-me · 1 year
Note
tacking onto what castlelibrarykeeper said - I have also done something like that, I cut my elbow open in 2nd or 4th grade and didn't notice until people nearby started freaking out... never knew how badly I wanted to read about an MC doing this
We're all just out here doing similar things, huh? Oh, I had another instance when I was like 12 where I was riding a four wheeler while someone else was driving it, and this stupid teen at the handles decided to drive us in-between/through these dead hedges, and I remember watching his body push this thin branch forward, and then it swung back and hit me in the face. I didn't feel it much till I went back inside the house and someone else had to tell me I was bleeding.
Guess it's not that uncommon, since humans can be surprisingly fragile.
…I want to have MC do this too...darn it, guess I gotta write it out or I won't be satisfied!
Just a little mini fic won't hurt... Jokes on me, it's a bit more than just a 'mini' fic.
Dumb Injuries
TW: Blood and Injury
--
It was bad enough being a human in general. Every demon and angel they'd come to know already felt as if they might break from the smallest of things. So, of course, the human felt a constant need to reassure them that they were not a Porcelain Doll. Although, making sure they stayed safe down here was harder than they expected. Who knew Devildom wind storms could literally pick them up and blow them away? Having a demon simply run into their shoulder in the hallway nearly left them with a bruise for days. That's not even to mention the curses that could be sitting around any and every corner.
Plus...human clumsiness is a given. Mistakes were bound to happen. Who knew a little blood would cause such an uproar, though?
It had been a silly thing, really, which wounded their pride more than anything. They were simply walking up the stairs to the second floor of the House of Lamentation, texting while they were doing so. Next thing you know, the tip of their shoe clipped the edge of the stair as they were heading up, gravity doing the rest. They hardly processed what had happened, getting up, looking around themselves, hoping to whatever higher power existed in this world that no one had seen them just absolutely eat it-- in other words, slam their face into the stairs.
Heart pounding, absolutely mortified that they'd just done that, they rushed the rest of the way up the steps with their hand firmly on the guide-rail. It does exist to prevent such things, after all. They shook their head as soon as they reached the upper landing, sighing in relief that it seemed they got away from their blunder scot-free. Jeez, if any one of the brothers had seen them do that, they'd never hear the end of it. They padded down the hallway, a little grin on their face as they rounded the corner. Good thing no one--
A deafening screech rang through the halls. MC hardly even had the time to turn their head in the direction the screech came from before two hands grabbed them by the shoulders. "What happened?" Asmo looked frantic, like he was about to burst into tears. MC stared at him curiously, opening their mouth to question him. Before they could get their words out, Asmo shouted again. "Someone come help!"
Two doors opened at the same time. Satan exited his room first, lips formed into an annoyed scowl while his eyes still scanned over the book in his hand. Seems he didn't take Asmo's plea too seriously. "What are you screaming about now?" After he finished the page he was on, he shut the book with a brisk and satisfying smack. The moment his gaze lifted, his eyes widened. The book that was in his hand clattered to the floor, the pages fluttering. He nearly shoved Asmo out of the way just to get to them, cupping his hand around their chin. "What did this?!"
"I don't know!" Asmo released his grasp on their shoulders, covering his mouth with both hands in terror. "What do we do?!"
Going back to the second door that had opened, Levi had come out rather irritated, headphones over his head with one of the cushions pushed back to free one ear. He had simply tilted his head out of the doorway, ready to tell his brothers to be quiet. He was trying to concentrate on his games! Then, he too fell victim to the calamity. "I-I-I-I," he stuttered, taking a moment to catch his words, swaying on his own feet, like he was about to faint. "I'll go get Lucifer!" Then he dashed away.
"I don't--" MC had tried to say, confused at what exactly was happening.
"Shh." They were shushed by Satan. "Don't use up your energy. It'll be alright...You'll be okay." 
At this point, MC felt like they must've been being pranked or something, right? 
The noise brought a few more people out into the halls, Mammon's bright-white hair bobbing from around the corner. "Oi, oi, oi! What's everyone freaking out--" He caught the sight of them and the life seemed to drain from his eyes. In a flash, both Asmo and Satan were thrust aside, his hands holding the side of MC’s face. "What the hell happened?!"
That had been enough. MC pulled themselves away from Mammon, glaring at the brothers around them. "Will you guys quit it?! Seriously? What are you all even talking about?"
Saying that only seemed to make the brothers look even more concerned, each of them frozen in place, stunned, like they had seen a ghost. "MC, darling," Asmo finally spoke up. "You're bleeding."
“You mean to tell me you didn’t even notice?!” Mammon’s jaw was slightly open.
"Huh?" The human went to raise an eyebrow, only for them to be met with a sharp pain when they tried. They glanced down to Mammon's hands, the side of one of his palms lined with a bright red liquid. No...they couldn't be...They raised a few fingers to touch a spot on their forehead that felt a little bit sore. Soon enough, they were rubbing away crimson from their fingertips.
Well...this was a problem.
The twins were next to join the group, Beel genuinely concerned at the sound of all his brother's frantic voices. Belphie, however, was not as worried. In fact, he probably wouldn't've even joined at all were he not being carried by his twin. "Is everyone okay?" Beel wondered, settling Belphie down on his own two feet. "We heard yelling."
"Everything is not okay!" Asmo's shrill tone almost made MC's head spin...or maybe that was finally the pain starting to settle in. "Just look at the state MC is in!"
Surprisingly enough, Belphie was the one to spring to action, looking absolutely furious at his other siblings. It was pretty terrifying. "Why are they still standing?! Make them sit down!" He nearly got into a sparring match with Mammon, pushing the second-born away so he could support MC by their side, guiding them down to the floor.
“Be gentle with ‘em!” 
“I am!” 
“Will they be okay?” 
“What if they go into shock?” 
“Someone do something!” 
“You’re not doing anything either!” 
Too many voices cluttered MC’s mind. "I really don't think all of this is neces--"
"What have you all gotten yourselves into now?" An exhausted voice announced itself before the person dragged himself into view. He had his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed as if he were mentally preparing himself for the disaster before he laid his eyes on it. Levi came stumbling behind his older brother, a stuttering mess, presumably unable to explain himself to Lucifer clearly. MC thought that maybe, maybe the most logical one in the family would be immune to such panic. All hopes of that were dashed as he audibly gasped as soon as he rested his eyes over them. At the very least, he was the order to the chaos. "Mammon, grab the first-aid kit we keep in their room. Satan, get a clean rag with warm water. Beel, help me carry them to my room. Now." 
Everyone who was given a mission ran off without another word, Beel coming over to scoop the human up into his arms. It was all very disorienting. All MC could do at the moment was blink as they were rushed into Lucifer's bedroom, settled onto his couch. Lucifer lagged behind, coming into the room a few moments later, shaking the last bit of moisture off his freshly washed hands. With a shrug of his shoulders, he let his coat fall to the floor, striding to MC at a brisk pace, thumb and finger settled over their chin to turn their head in his direction. Those of the brothers who weren't given a task hovered nervously behind the eldest, Belphie coming over to sit at their feet, dangerously close to crawling into their lap.
Satan and Mammon nearly crashed into each other, arriving at the bedroom at the same time. Mammon squeezed through first, opening the first-aid-kit as he kneeled beside the couch. He sounded quite breathless as he spoke. "What do we need?"
"We need to stop the bleeding, then we can clean it," Lucifer announced, telling Mammon what to grab to hand to him so he could treat their wound.
"Is it really that serious?" It was the first question MC was able to fully ask without being cut off. However, instead of a verbal answer, they figured out for themselves how bad the wound was as soon as Lucifer began treating it, the pain making itself known in pounding droves. They winced, trying to tug their head away from him, but stuck in his grasp. Satan leaned over the huddle of brothers, using the rag to clean up the blood that had dripped down their face.
"Whatever in the world happened?" Lucifer asked, his frown growing ever deeper every time the human hissed in pain.
A different kind of heat flooded MC's body, one of humiliation rather than agony. "I don't know," they lied, immediately getting seven different pairs of eyes squinting at them suspiciously.
"Was it a curse?" Satan wondered.
"A creature?!" Asmo suggested.
"A- A criminal?!" Levi assumed.
Mammon clenched his hands into fists, a dark aura manifesting itself at Levi's suggestion. "If this was because of some other demon... If I find out who did this to ya, I'll go and--"
MC really had to stop this before it went any further. "It wasn't any of those!"
Belphie crawled up to them further, resting against their knees. He suddenly pointed directly at them, staring straight into their soul. "I bet they did something dumb again. Fall out of bed?"
Beel nodded, which only added insult to the literal injury. "Cut yourself trying to cook?"
"No! How would I even hurt my forehead that way?!" MC tried to sit up straight, only to be pushed back down by Lucifer. Their cheeks burnt with frustration. They rolled their eyes, their gaze stuck on the ceiling as to not look at any of them directly. "I trpedonhestrs," they muttered, jumbling their phrase into something nonsensical.
"Pardon?" Lucifer lowered his hands from their face the bleeding having stopped, MC suddenly gasping in pain as their entire body prickled as he began to disinfect the wound.
MC gritted their teeth for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I just tripped on the stairs, okay?!"
The room went silent. Much too silent. Like all seven of the demons stopped breathing all at the same time. MC found the courage to glance at all of them, a strange shadow seemingly covering all their faces. Finally, Mammon was the one to speak first, his usual energetic voice a frighteningly cold monotone. "You hurt yourself that badly...trippin’ on the stairs?"
MC laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, but it’s okay! Stuff like this happens to humans all the time! Nothing to worry about! Just one of those dumb accidents, you know? It could’ve been worse!” 
That was probably...the worst thing they could’ve said. 
Asmo rested a hand over his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. “Happens...all the time?” 
Levi hadn’t blinked in a long time. “C-could’ve been- been...worse?” 
"Wait..." Satan turned his head in increments so slowly he appeared to be glitching. "I think...I've read that some humans can actually die if they fall down the stairs."
Oh no...Dear God no...MC wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere by themselves for the next few days, weren't they?...
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skz317cb97 · 10 months
Text
Drunk Confessions pt 5
Jisung x Female reader
Word count: 1.9k
Synopsis: When Jisung, the guy that can't stand you, calls drunk and asks for a ride home from the bar you do it for the sake of your mutual friend Chan.
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A/N: 18+ ONLY! Wow part 5 already! 3 more to go! Hope you like this one! Warnings and smut below the cut!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing and strong language, mentions of drinking/over drinking/being drunk. That's all! If I missed something please let me know and I'll add it immediately!
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To say that you were surprised when you saw Jisung’s contact picture pop up calling you at 2am would be a drastic understatement. You hesitated even answering worried it might just be more hateful and hurtful words you didn’t need or want to hear from him. The time was the only reason you did answer, in case he was in trouble or something. He might not be your friend but your friend cared about him so you answered. 
“Heyyy y/n.” He was very drunk. 
“Hey hey hey, are you there?” You hummed. 
“Yes Jisung I’m here...” He chuckled a little. 
“Okay look do you think you can pull the stick from your ass long enough to come get me from this bar. I made some new friends but none of us can drive, can we girls?!” You heard a group of drunk girls carrying on in the background hollering their agreement with Jisung. 
“Let me get this straight. You want me to come get you and an unknown number of girls and what? Take you home like I’m your personal uber?”  
“Unless you’d like to join us...” A scowl was plastered to your face whether Jisung could see it or not. 
“Goodbye Jisun-”  
“Wait wait! God I’m just kidding!” You huff a breath out not wanting to deal with him at all, let alone at 2am. 
“Jisung if you and only you need a ride because you’re drunk, I’ll come get you because Chan is our friend but if you think for one second I’m chauffeuring you and your harem home you’ve lost your goddamned mind.” 
“Okay! Jeeze, I see the stick has not been removed. Just me. Will you please give just me a ride.” You agreed and Jisung told you the bar he was at. When you pulled up you were hoping he was going to be waiting outside for you, of course he wasn’t.  
You parked and went into the club that was still surprisingly crowded. You scanned the crowd looking for Jisung until you finally recognized his slicked back black hair. It was criminal how gorgeous he was for being such a dick most of the time. There must have been some redeeming qualities about him that Chan saw or they wouldn’t be friends. You certainly didn’t. 
You didn’t know what you had done for him to dislike you so much but one night Jisung accidentally pocket dialed you and you heard every shitty thing he thought about you. After that you kept your distance. Still he always had something to say, like the stick up your ass line. You’d had enough and started avoiding him at all costs and now you were walking up to a guy you didn’t want to be around, in a club you didn’t want to be in and for no other reason than he’s your one of your best friend’s friend. You tapped him on the shoulder. 
“Jisung?” He spun around and the smile he was sporting fell at the sight of you which only made you feel like shit. 
“Ah! The stick in the mud I ordered fantastic.” He said and one of the girls next to him started laughing. You glared at her and she shut up quickly. 
“The stick in the mud is leaving now.” You turned and headed towards the exit. Jisung quickly said goodbye to the girls and ran after you, well stumbled. He had way too much to drink. 
“Wait you were gonna take me home!” You shrugged. 
“Guess you better keep up!” You called back to him as he tried to do just that. He did manage to make it to the car and get in before you were in drive so you decided to keep your word and take him home. The first half of the car ride was fairly quiet. Soft music playing and neither of you speaking. Then finally Jisung broke the silence. 
“Why do you hate me so much?” You looked over and he looked sleepy and a little sad. He was asking a serious question. 
“Seriously?” He nodded and his eyes somehow managed to get bigger and browner and you wondered if this was a little of what Chan saw. 
“Jee Jisung maybe because I have a stick up my ass and wouldn’t know a good time if it bit me in my backside. Or maybe it’s because I could never be your type because I’m stuck up and dress like a librarian, or maybe it’s because I only use Chan for food, alcohol, and money, or maybe it’s because I heard someone say a bunch of terrible things about me and assumed he didn’t like me so I stayed away!” You were angry that tears were welling up in your eyes as you shouted at him. Who was he to ask you why you hated him when he had so clearly disliked you first. 
“You heard me say all that?!” You shook your head rolling your eyes. 
“It doesn’t matter Jisung you don’t like me and I don’t like you and that’s fine okay?” Jisung had his head in his hands shaking it. 
“No no no you’ve got it all wrong!” You looked at him not buying it. 
“I heard it all Jisung straight from you.” He nodded. 
“Okay yes I said that stuff, but it was before I really knew you and I was wrong! I don’t hate you at all y/n I’m crazy about you!” You scoffed disgusted. 
“What the hell are you going on about!? You always call me names and act like you’re god’s gift!”  
“So I flirt like an idiot it doesn’t mean I don’t like you!” You slammed on your brakes. 
“FLIRT?! You call saying I have a stick up my ass flirting?!” 
“SHITTY FLIRTING, YES!”  
“OH WELL NO FUCKING SHIT! SO I’M SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE YOU LIKE ME?!” 
“YES!!” If the car hadn’t already been stopped you would have slammed on the brakes again. 
“Get the fuck out of my car.” Jisung tried to reason with you. 
“Wait let’s just talk about this.” You were done talking. 
“GET OUT!” He got out of your car and onto the sidewalk and you sped off. Who the hell did he think he was. Saying all those things about you, treating you the way he did, just to say he liked you. What a childish way to show affection, he might as well have been pulling your ponytail and tripping you while he was at it. You were halfway back home when the guilt of leaving him drunk and stranded hit you.  
“FUCK!” You made a U-turn and went back towards Jisung’s place. You ended up finding him about 2 miles from where you’d left him. He’d made surprisingly good time considering he was plastered. You pulled up, stopped and you rolled down the window. 
“Get in and don’t say a thing.” Jisung got in the car buckled up and didn’t say a single word the rest of the way to his place. When you got there you parked the car and looked forward not saying anything still furious. 
“Thank you.” Jisung said quietly. You didn’t say anything and continued looking forward, waiting for him to get out. 
“Okay... goodnight y/n.” He waited until you gave him a little nod, still not looking at him, and then he got out and went into his building, leaving you to drive home with a hundred thoughts swirling in your head. Like? He LIKED you? Did he even know you well enough to like you? You supposed he did.  
Chan had been trying to get you to come around a bit more too. Obviously they had been talking about you, you were sure Chan knew how Jisung felt but he’d never said a thing to you. You guessed because it wasn’t his information to share but still you were all friends he couldn’t have at least hinted? You were going to give him a little grief about it when you saw him next.  
For now you had to figure out what you were going to do about Jisung and his confession. You felt a little bad just taking off on him like that. You probably broke his heart. What if he really did hate you now? Why did that scare you so much suddenly? When you got home you went to bed but sleep was a fickle friend that night and with it already being so late, you barely got any rest. 
The next day you got up and went over to Jisung’s first thing. You pounded on his door until he woke up and answered. When he saw it was you his face fell again and just like the night before it hurt seeing him frown because of you. 
“Why?” Jisung was hungover, half asleep and very confused. 
“Why....” You rolled your eyes still on the fence about everything. 
“Why do you like me?”  
“Oh. Um, well... it’s hard-” You stopped him. 
“If you like with me the reason why shouldn’t be hard. You should be able t-” Jisung interrupted. 
“Because you’re beautiful okay!? Like the kind of beautiful other women can only hope to be. You are kind I’ve seen you sneak and buy like ten different homeless guys meals and you pay for mine and Chan’s food on a regular basis. You’re smart, and funny, and you don’t have to put up a front. If someone doesn’t like you then they don’t like you and you’re fine with that.” You shook your head. 
“No I’m not.” 
“What?” 
“I’m not fine with that, I hated that you didn’t like me. I didn’t know what I had done to make you think those things about me.” Jisung shook his head. 
“Nothing you didn’t do anything I was an asshole judging you because you were a pretty girl that hung around Chan all the time. Then I got to know you and asked Chan about you and I realized I was dead wrong. I never knew you heard me say those things or I would have apologized a long time ago. I am sorry y/n I was wrong and shouldn’t have said that and I shouldn’t have picked on you so much when there were clearly issues between us I just... wanted to make you laugh... get you to loosen up...” You laughed a little. 
“Get the stick out of my ass?” He pressed his fingers into his eyes embarrassed. 
“No no. You don’t have a stick up your ass or in the mud or anywhere. Your feelings were hurt and it was my fault. I’m so sorry.” You nodded. 
“Apology accepted Jisung.” His head shot up and he looked at you surprised. 
“Really!?” You shook your head. 
“Yes really. Jisung when you relax and just be you... I like you too.” His jaw was on the floor. 
“Ji a bug is gonna fly in your mouth.” He closed it. 
“Sorry just... you... you like me?!”  
“Of course Jisung, you're handsome and funny. You’re a dear friend to Chan which means a lot to me.” He laughed nervously.  
“At the risk of pushing my luck... would you want to go out with me this weekend? I’d love to take you to dinner. Buy you a meal for once.” You laughed and shook your head yes. 
“I’d really like that Jisung.” He smiled ear to ear. 
“Really?! Okay! I’ll text you and we’ll work out all the details!” Your smile spread across your face too. 
“Sounds good. I’ll go and let you get some rest now.” You leaned in and pressed your soft lips to Jisung’s and he thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. 
“I’ll talk to you later Ji.” His chubby cheeks and his ears were red. 
“Yeah, okay... bye.” You turned and left and Jisung closed the door before leaning against it in total disbelief. He had a date with you. 
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Hey so I just found your account and omg?? it's literally so amazing 😭✋
Anyways-I was just looking through a bunch of the twist monster au headcannons/stories, and I thought of a scenario that could be done!
Basically the cast reacting to gender neutral or female reader/yuu acting stuff out in their book they are reading like poses, dialogue, just genuine reactions to the text itself
ex. Throwing the book across the room and them being genuinely concerned that something happened bc reader is just staring off into space or cursing but what actually happened was either a character died/did something embarrassing/the mc and love interest finally kiss
Anyways that's all I had in mind hope you have a good day/night! <3
Omg thank you! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the content! QvQ
Ah, books. Such a wonderful creation humans made to fill us with raw, pure emotion or shattering our hearts and souls into a million tiny pieces—only for us to read it again and again! Don’t you just love those moments as a reader? UvU
Except for cliffhangers. Readers have a love/hate relationship with it, writers adore cliffhangers! ÒvÓ
So, what happens if we take a bookreader!Yuu (they/them) and throw them into Twisted Monsterland where even the history books read like a world guide/omnibus to a game or TV series? Oh, and I took a bit of inspiration from a Disney princess comic and a Bill Watterson “Calvin and Hobbes” comic for two of these scenarios. 😂
/-----------/
“Jeez, you sure you’ve got enough books, Yuu?”
“The librarian wouldn’t let me check out more than ten at a time,” Yuu replied, their backpack and arms filled with thick books. “Wish I could’ve gotten ten more at least, but this’ll do for now.”
“Are you sure you can even read all those before next semester?” Deuce asked in concern. “Those look pretty…dense.”
“Oh, I’ll be done in a week. Maybe a week and a half if we get a lot of homework.”
“Funya?! You gotta be kidding me!” Grim said. “Can humans read that fast?”
“Not everyone. Some people are slow readers, but that’s okay since they enjoy it at their own pace while I enjoy it at mine. Only problem for me is choosing which one of these I want to read first!”
/Later that night/
“Yuu? It’s time to eat!” Grim called out. Silence greeted him as he stared at Yuu, who was sitting on the couch with their face practically buried in a book. Frowning, the chimera padded over to the couch and repeated, “Yuu! I’m hungry!”
Still the human didn’t seem to respond, their shoulders hunching as they turned the page.
“Yuu? Yuu!” Huffing, Grim crossed his arms as he glared up at them. “You’ve been reading for the past three hours! How much longer are you gonna read that book?”
“What’s going on, pal?” one of the ghosts asked as the trio appeared.
Gesturing his paws at Yuu, he said, “They’ve been reading ever since we got back from the library today, and now they’re not reactin’ to me. It’s dinner time and they haven’t made any food yet!”
Before anyone could even think of what to say, a loud, shrill squeal filled the dorm.
“Eeeeeee!!!” Yuu squealed, a huge grin on their face as they flopped to the side and kicked their legs like a nervous rabbit while holding the book against their chest. “Omg it happened, it happened!!”
“Mrah!? What?! What happened?!” Grim yelled, wings flared out defensively while his fur bristled. “Why are you yelling!”
“My new OTP!! They finally kissed!!” Yuu said, their eyes wide as they rocked from side to side. “They kissed!! Yes!! Yesyesyesyesyessssss!!!”
“OTP? What’s an OTP??” one of the other ghosts asked.
“It’s what we like to call the ‘one true pairing’ in a story,” Yuu explained, a positively giddy expression on their face with eyes shining brighter than the stars as they struck a dramatic pose. “It’s two characters who vibe with each other on a level that you just can’t help but want them to be together—and the author brought these two together!! Yeeeeeeeee, I’m so happy!!”
“And loud,” Grim grumbled, paws clamped over his ears. “Why are you standing like that?”
“It’s how the main character professed their love for the other!”
“…are all humans as weird as you?”
“Trust me, there are people out there that are way crazier in their excitement than I am right now.”
“Really?!”
“Oh yeah. Don’t even get me started on the fanfics people write.”
“Fan…fics?”
“Oh, you sweet summer child…”
/Two days later/
“Heeeey, lil’ Shrimpy~!”
“Mm…”
“Eh…? Hey, Shrimp…why are you ignorin’ us? It’s not very nice.”
“Now, now, Floyd. One mustn’t interrupt a reader when they’re indulging in such a riveting story.”
“Shh,” Yuu muttered, their brow furrowed as they hunched closer to the book. “I’m at the best part!”
Floyd frowned as he laid his head on his arms, the basilisk slumping against the table. “Man, this is lame,” he said. “You promised to come play basketball with me today!”
“Once I finish this part, we can go do whatever you want, okay, Floyd?”
Jade hummed in amusement as he said, “A rather daring proposition you just offered, Yuu.”
“We have to do a buncha reading for class anyway,” Floyd said with a bored expression. “And Crabby and Mackerel said you finished two other books already, so what’s the point of thi-”
“AAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!?!?” Yuu shrieked, leaping out of their chair as Jade and Floyd recoiled in shock. Before the twins could react, Yuu had ducked back into their chair and pressed the book even closer to their face than before.
“…lemmie see that,” Floyd said, leaning over the table to grab it.
“No, no! It’s fine, go do something else!” Yuu said all too quickly, sinking even lower and turning away from Floyd’s reaching claws. “I think I heard Riddle in the hallway.”
“Lemmie see it!”
“No! You can’t read it!” Yuu cried out, bolting away from the table holding the book tight to their chest.
“Get back here, Shrimpy!”
“Noooo!!”
“Oh my,” Jade uttered, eyes wide for a moment before he chuckled. “Perhaps I should look into this book when they’ve finished it.”
/The next day/
“Oh no…oooh noooooo, I hate this so much!”
“Then why are you reading it?” Jamil asked, the naga curled around them. “If you don’t like it, just take it back to the library.”
“I can’t! It’s soooooo good!” Yuu said, practically throwing themselves backwards onto Jamil’s snake half with the book pressed against their face.
“Eh? But wait, you just said you hated it,” Kalim said in confusion.
“I hate it, but I love it so much,” Yuu told them with a whine, their head now touching the floor on the other side of Jamil’s snake body yet still draped over him like a cat. “This book will ruin your heart and shatter your soul into a million pieces!...you should read it too!”
“Given how dramatic you’re being, it might not be wise,” Jamil said with a sigh.
“Read it!”
“It’s okay, Yuu. We can read together! It’ll be more fun that way!”
“Kalim, no. You still need to study for the next potions exam.”
“Augh, I need someone to talk about this story with so we can lament in solidarity!”
“…have you been taking lessons from Rook lately?”
/Three days later/
“Um…is Yuu okay? They’re looking a little…tense.”
It had been several days since Yuu borrowed a stack of books, and already they had gone through nearly half of their hoard. Between classes and on breaks or after finishing tests, it wasn’t hard for students to notice the lone human with their nose between the pages of one book after the other. Even the researchers had taken note of Yuu’s behavior in between tests, making note of their expressions and how their body changes with each scene depicting their emotions. It was noteworthy how they reacted when a character in the story did something “cringeworthy and stupid” (as Yuu would explain when asked), it looked as though the human had swallowed a lemon.
At the moment they were sitting in Heartslabyul, yet another book in their arms as they sat on one side of the lounge. Cater had taken progression snapshots of Yuu’s body slowly curling into itself, eyes steadily growing wider and wider to the point it looked as though they’d bolt away in panic.
“They’re fine,” Grim told Trey as he munched on a snack. “They’ve been like this since they got all those books. That’s the pose they had last time when their Ohteevee smooched or somethin’.”
“Oh, you mean ‘OTP’, Grimmy,” Cater corrected with a smile. “That’s so cute! Our human has an OTP already~!”
“I’ve heard of hitting the books, but this is ridiculous,” Ace commented with a sigh. “They’ve been reading so long that I forgot what half their face looks li-”
“GRAAAAH!!!!”
SLAM! Fwump!!
“Gyah!?” the boys yelped, everyone staring at Yuu as they sat on the couch with a dark scowl.
“Yo, what the heck? Why’d you throw the book like that?” Ace asked, pointing at the large tome on the other side of the couch now.
“Um…Yuu?” Deuce began when they didn’t respond. “Are…you okay?”
“……I’m mad,” came the response, Yuu’s expression growing more annoyed as they stared off into space.
“About what?” Riddle asked in surprise.
Yuu’s gaze turned to the discarded book, their expression as though they had been betrayed by a trusted friend as they said, “Because my favorite character died, and I refuse to read how the book ends when there’s literally two freaking pages left! That’s not enough space to bring them back in a satisfying way!!”
“Y…you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ace grumbled with a sigh. “That big of a reaction just because a fictional character was killed off?”
“You weren’t there to see the struggles they went through! I saw them change from an annoying bully into a fully developed and vulnerable character who wanted to take charge of their life—and the author killed them off!” Jumping to their feet, Yuu marched towards Ace and Deuce’s room where they’d left their stuff and said, “Where’s my notebook? I need to fix this!”
“What are you gonna do?” Grim called out.
“Write a fanfic, because my scrunkly deserves to be happy!”
“Huh? Scrunkly??”
/Final day/
“Oh, Great Seven…what happened in your book this time?” Vil asked with a sigh.
Yuu sniffled as they tried to dry their tears, though it was difficult as more continued to flow down their cheeks. “I…I just finished my last book,” they said, their voice cracking a little with emotion as Grim pat their arm reassuringly.
“All ten books in a week?” Vil said in surprise. “That’s…impressive. Even so, why are you so upset? Was the story that horrible?”
“No…it…it…it was too good!” Yuu cried out, clutching the book so tight that their knuckles turned white as the tears flowed freely now.
“Ah…such pure, raw human emotion,” Rook crooned. “To express it so freely without fear…beaute!”
“Was the book really that good?” Epel asked.
“Yes!” Yuu wailed. “Now that it’s over, I…I don’t know what to do with myself now…”
Peering at the title, Vil gave a thoughtful hum and said, “Oh, that story. I hear there is supposed to be a spin-off book series. The first one should have released just the other day.”
“Really?!”
“Mrrr…now you’ve done it,” Grim grumbled with a sigh. “Here we go again.”
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