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#which for me is his return; his wandering being over; his coming back to the one he loves
deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 days
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I think it would be really cute if someone calls Eri is ‘Apple Blossom’ because those are the flowers that turn into the yummy apples she loves (Lucifer or Charlie from Hazbin Hotel)
-You were considered an…usual citizen of Hell, mainly because you didn’t belong there. You belonged in Heaven, but someone was able to kidnap you from Heaven and spirited you away to Hell, hiding you there.
-You managed to slip away one day, running, trying to do whatever it took to hide away from this scary man who had a bird like head, who was torturing you for your unique abilities to rewind things, a healing ability to put it simply.
-It was Charlie who found you, thinking you were adorable, and Vaggie immediately knew that you had been taken from Heaven, telling her girlfriend and the two agreed to hide you at the hotel.
-Needless to say, the other residents of the hotel were quite shocked to meet you, as you were such a sweet and gentle child, despite the pain and torture you endured.
-Angel immediately took you out shopping and when you came back you were wearing matching outfits, as he said you had to always look fabulous!
-Husk did his best to avoid you, not wanting to taint you by accident, but he was surprised when Angel didn’t. Husk always makes sure you have juice, never letting you have any booze, and he will sit there and let you pet his wings, trying to ignore your sweet words on how fluffy he is!
-Niffty adores you, finding you to be the cutest, most adorable thing in existence and she loves when you ask if you can help her in the kitchen. You can always help her, but she makes sure you stay away from the knives.
-Charlie became like a big sister to you, doting on you, teaching you everything she can, which also includes musical numbers, much to Vaggie’s ‘amusement’ but she’s very protective of you.
-Vaggie is like a guard dog with you, she knows that the one hunting for you is still out there, and she isn’t willing to risk your life or safety in the slightest. Vaggie lets you play with her with hair all the time, as Charlie has been teaching you how to braid.
-Alastor was very apprehensive about being around you, he would always send you to one of the others, not willing to deal with you, mainly because he had no idea what to do with a child. He wasn’t mean to you or anything, he would just pat your head softly and tell you to go find Charlie or whoever was in the area.
-You were peeking around the corner, holding something to your chest, looking for the Radio Demon himself, wandering the hotel’s public areas where you’ve seen him before.
-You spotted Alastor up ahead and your eyes lit up, a little smile coming to your lips as you trotted after him.
-Alastor heard your little footsteps, “I thought I heard someone following me. Are you looking for Charlie?”
-You shook your head, “I was looking for you Alastor.” He seemed surprised by your words, bending at the waist, looking a bit menacing but you weren’t bothered, “Oh and why is that my little apple blossom?”
-Your eyes went wide at his words, sparkling lightly before you held up what you were carrying, a crayon drawing of Alastor, holding it out to him, “I wanted to give you this since you’re always so nice to me!”
-He was a little confused, not remembering being nice to you, as he would always send you away, but such is the innocence of a child as he took the drawing, seeing that you did your best to capture his essence.
-His wide smile never left his face as he leaned over and patted your head again, “Thank you Y/N.” you beamed up at him before you scurried off, going back to your drawing supplies so you could make one of Angel next.
-Alastor couldn’t help but look down at the drawing, feeling something, he wasn’t sure what it was, in his chest, as he returned to his tower, pinning the picture on the back of his door before moving to the window.
-What an odd child you were.
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yeonzzzn · 2 months
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consequences: sim jaeyun
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 4.4k
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synopsis: folding your boyfriends laundry is a normal for you, mostly when his schedule is busy. so being the good girlfriend you are, you fold his laundry and stumble upon his soccer jersey, deciding to tease him with it and ultimately dealing with the consequences of your actions once he returns home.
genre: established relationship, non-idol!au, soccer player!jake, smut
warnings: swearing, sending nudes, bratty reader, masturbation, degrading, unprotected sex, dom!jake, jake rips readers panties, he is rough with reader, hair pulling, sex on the counter top, finger sucking, edging, MINORS DNI, lmk if I missed anything ♡
this is specially dedicated to @alvojake for helping me create this masterpiece ♡
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You let yourself into your boyfriend's apartment, finding the hidden spare key inside the fake potted plant by the door, and strolling on inside. You knew he didn’t mind, you practically lived here anyway, preferring his bed over the shitty one you had back at the dorms. You might as well just move in with him at this point, most of your clothes and belongings are here as well. 
Again, it was perfectly normal for you to randomly show up at his apartment even when he wasn’t home. Sending him a quick text letting him know you’re waiting for him to come home from work and soccer practice, to which he responds back with three heart-eye emojis. 
Jake is always working so hard, not just at his job and college, but also at his sport, and on top of being a great boyfriend and always making time for you within his busy schedule. Taking the “if they want to they will!!” to a whole other level. Jake spoils you, cooks for you, always makes sure you feel loved and cared and most of all, he communicates. 
And because he is always giving everything his one hundred percent in all areas, the least you could do is help keep his apartment clean, fridge and pantry stocked with food, and keep up with his laundry. 
Which is the first thing your eyes are laid upon when you walk into the apartment, seeing all his clothes tossed onto the couch with his clean clothes laundry basket sitting beside the coffee table. 
The apartment smelt of his laundry detergent and soap, the sweet smell of lavender and honey filling your senses as you stepped closer to the couch, on instinct sitting down in the middle of the couch and picking at the clothing one by one to fold them. Separating them into categories as you folded: jeans and sweatpants, boxers and socks, shirts, tanks, and sweatshirts, his hoodies, his dressier clothing, and last but not least, his soccer jerseys. 
Not only did Jake have a couple extra jerseys from the team he plays on for the college you both attended, but professional jerseys from his favorite teams. 
One by one, you took the now folded laundry to his bedroom, placing them neatly in his dresser. But once it was time for the jerseys to be played neatly in, you accidentally dropped one onto the floor. 
With a sigh, you gently pressed the other jerseys into the drawer, then picked up the now unfolded one. You stared at his last name printed in big bolded “SIM” lettering, your eyes roaming at the blue and white stripes of your college's colors, then wandering up to the full-length mirror that rested against his bedroom wall, seeing your reflection. 
You rubbed your thighs together at the thoughts that came into your mind, tucking your lip between your teeth. 
You didn’t think twice about removing your clothing, leaving you completely naked until you pulled his jersey over your head, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. 
Sitting yourself on the floor in front of the mirror, you snapped a few photos, spreading your legs wide enough to expose your cunt and sitting straight enough that your nipples could obviously be seen. You turned yourself around, sitting pretty on your legs, lifting his jersey up enough to get a perfect view of your ass, and snapped a couple more photos. 
You grinned at yourself as you double-checked each photo, being satisfied with the outcomes. All you had to do now was send them on their way to your boyfriend. 
Jake sat at his computer desk, picking the lint out of the pockets of his jeans while watching Heeseung and Jay play rock paper scissors out of pure boredom. Usually, on a normal day, there’d be something to do. Whether that was paperwork, speaking to clients, scheduling meetings, or placing orders. But today? Not. A. Damn. Fucking. Thing. It took everything in Jake to not purposely sit back into his chair far enough that it tipped over and caused a panic just to help give everyone something to do. 
He checked the clock at the far end of the office, still two hours left before he could dip out and head to soccer practice then return home and be in your arms. Which was the only thing keeping him from jumping out the second-story window from this boredom, by the way. 
As if the thoughts of you were enough to manifest your text, he couldn’t hold back the smile at seeing your name on his phone. 
you: I folded your laundry jakey <3 jake: tysm baby <3 what would I do without you fr fr? 
The love Jake felt for you in this moment made him feel all warm and content, you were so good to him and for him. He literally couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend. 
you: I did more than just your laundry.  jake: oh? you: [6 image attachments]
Jake nearly dropped his phone to the floor, his pants growing tighter the minute those sexy photos popped up in his texts. Quickly locked his phone and with a swift motion glanced over his shoulder making sure none of his co-workers were behind him when he received those photos. 
You smirked at seeing he read the message, already knowing he was probably panicking while being as hard as a rock. Leaning back on your ass to spread your legs further apart, you slide your fingers down your folds, spreading your lips apart. The very thought of Jake squirming at his desk to hide his raging boner had you completely soaked. 
Jake tried to clear his thoughts, to take deep breaths to keep calm and soften his cock but not having any luck. The images of bending you over this desk in front of him and railing the fuck out of you in his jersey wouldn’t leave his brain. His pants grew ever more tighter against him. 
He knew he had to take care of this boner and fast before anyone noticed and he became the laughing joke for the next month. 
With anger now fueling him, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and held it close to his lower stomach as he stood from his chair, “Gonna take a quick break, be right back,” he said to Heeseung and Jay, they giving him a quick nod before returning to their rock paper scissors game. 
Jake slammed the bathroom door shut and locked, tossing his jacket to the counter. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down feeling the relief of his throbbing cock not being restricted, slamming his back against the door. 
Jake fumbled with his phone in his hands, fingers shaking as he texted you back after saving each photo one by one. 
jake: that was risky sending nudes like that while I am working.  you: but you loved it, didn’t you? ;) jake: what if someone saw them? i’m the only one who gets to see you like that.  you: oops you: [2 image attachments] 
He clicked the two new photos, seeing the way your fingers spread your folds apart, your cunt glistening against the sunlight that beamed into the room from your slick. 
Jake gritted his teeth, immediately dialing your number and pressing the phone to his ear, the call instantly going to voice mail, “ugh fucking whore,” he grumbled, redialing your number again. You knew better than to ignore his call a second time and answer. 
With a shaky voice, you said, “Hey baby,” 
“Hmm don’t hey baby me,” he growled, his free hand palming himself through his boxers at your voice, “you’re being so risky right now sending me those nudes, YN.” 
You could tell by his voice how hard and turned-on he was. You could hear it in his voice that he was touching himself. It made you circle your fingers on your clit and cunt clench around nothing, “Hmm but you’re enjoying it, aren’t you Jakey?” 
He slid his boxers and jeans down to his thighs, seeing how red and angry his cock was, how the precum slowly dripped down the side of the tip. He took himself in his hand and slowly pumped himself, “You’re being so naughty right now, being so slutty.” 
You softly moan at him degrading you, rubbing your fingers against your fuck hole, the lewd sounds making their way into Jake’s ear. 
“You better not be touching yourself,” he snapped, pumping his cock faster, tightening his fingers. He was so angry and so horny that the lines were getting blurred. He wanted nothing more than for his fingers to be the ones rubbing your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of you. 
“And what if I am?” you cooed, hovering your fingers over your hole. 
“Stop,” he demanded, “Stop pleasuring yourself without me there as punishment for sending me nudes while I am working.” 
Jake had to admit this was so fucking hot. Even if your bratty behavior was driving him up a wall in more than just one way. 
“And if I don’t?” you cooed again, licking your bottom lip. 
“Keep being a brat and find out.” 
You pushed your fingers into your cunt, releasing a soft gasp. 
“You better not be fucking touching yourself,” he said again. 
You giggled, then ended the call. 
Oh, now he was pissed. 
Jake dropped his cock against his abdomen, both thumbs moving at the speed of light in anger, texting out a message about your bratty behavior, but stopping midway through to see a photo and video coming up. 
The photo made his jaw clench. His jersey was now pulled up over your breasts, your perky nipples on full display as your legs are spread even wider than in the last couple of photos, with two of your fingers pushed knuckles deep into your pussy. 
What a fucking brat.
The video was worse. You moaned loudly as you circled your fingers around your clit, then slowly slipped them between your legs, gathering your juices from your seeping hole, rubbing it up and spreading it around your lips. A small amount of it leaked from your cunt, slowly dripping down to the hardwood floor of his bedroom and then the video ended. 
WHAT. A. FUCKING. BRAT. 
He spit in his hand and took his cock back into his palm, stroking himself faster than before, head tilting back onto the door, biting his lip to keep his moans at a minimal level as his thumb worked to text you back. 
jake: it’s all over for you  you: oh yeah? jake: yeah jake: i’m going to fucking ruin you
You smirked, locking your phone and tossing it onto his bed, and pulled your pretty dark blue panties back onto your body. 
While you were smitten at what you’ve created, Jake is drawing blood from his lip at how hard his teeth bit down. His hand pumping him in a pit of anger. How dare you disobey him? Even if it made him even more horny, how dare you? It was one thing to be bratty while with him, but to be so brave to do it while he’s away from you? Did you think you were safe? Nah. It’s over for you the minute he steps foot into that apartment. You wouldn’t know peace. Getting everything but being gentle with you. 
Jake flipped through the photos and video you sent him, watching again and again how your slick drips from your cunt and onto his floor until his cum shoots out, coating his stomach. He loved seeing you wearing his clothes, mostly his jersey. Loving seeing his last name printed on the back with your gorgeous fat ass out sitting so perfectly on your perfect legs. Jake didn’t hesitate to make that his new home wallpaper. It was so fucking hot even with how mad he was. 
Jerking off might have taken care of his boner problem, but the main issue here is the fact he still has a little over an hour before getting off work and still had soccer practice to attend. The only thing Jake knew was you definitely made his workday entertaining. 
You were banking on that by the time Jake gets off work and attends practice, he would be way too tired to even punish you. So you pranced around his apartment in his jersey and your dark blue panties with a big ole smile on your face. 
Your stomach growled and decided to push your bratty, naughty girlfriend persona off to the back burner and go back to your sweet, caring, loving, and cute girlfriend persona who takes care of her boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away. 
You cooked dinner, which you don’t often do but still will on days Jake has longer schedules like tonight—putting together the perfect recipe for spaghetti and meatballs. 
Once the food was done, you checked the time, seeing Jake was probably off work now and heading to practice. You felt good knowing that once he returns home he’ll have a warm meal to eat. 
Except, you weren’t expecting what was about to happen. 
Jake skipped practice. 
Being way too damn horny and couldn’t wait a second longer. Jake was lucky he was able to keep a perfect boner (that unfortunately resurfaced) during the last hour of work. Made a phone call the minute he was out of his company building to his coach about how something urgent came up and he’d be missing practice tonight. 
Urgent as in him fucking you until you could no longer stand or walk. For a whole fucking week. 
Jake was sneaky as he carefully pushed his key into the doorknob and tip-toed his way in. Slowly and quietly closing the door behind him and slipping out of his shoes. 
The smell of dinner filled his nose as he turned the corner, seeing you stand at the counter with your back facing him. 
Jake carefully made his way across the living room, removing his shirt from his body, stopping at the couch to quietly yank down his jeans and boxers and slide them over the back of the couch. 
You hummed to yourself as you finished up your dinner, wiggling your hips to whatever song you had stuck in your head. 
Jake adored you, he really did. The feeling of endearment filled his heart at seeing how happy and cute you looked right now. Jake almost—almost—forgave your behavior from earlier at the sight before him and the smell of dinner waiting for him. But his raging hard cock and the flash of your dark blue panties pulled him back. He’ll give you his forgiveness another time.
You barely pushed the empty plate away from you when you felt a pair of hands touch you. One at the back of your neck and the other on your back, shoving you forward onto the counter. Your face is now pressed against the cool marble. 
Your breath hitched at feeling your boyfriend’s long, hard length connecting to your ass. You don’t even need to look at him to know the hands and cock touching you’re his. You could be blind and you’d know your boyfriend's hands without a second thought. 
You finally saw him in your peripheral vision as his chest connected to your back, hot breath hitting your ear, “You think making dinner would put you in good graces?” 
“Jae,” you whined, “You’re home so early.” 
He chuckled into your ear, “Skipped practice, had more important matters to take care of.” 
Important matters being to punish you for your behavior. You could already feel your slick pooling in your panties even as your heart raced, mind wondering what he had in store for you. You could also tell he was already naked, meaning Jake meant business and no amount of apologizing would save you. Not that you wanted to be saved anyway. 
The hand that was at your back slid down, aggressively squeezing your ass before slipping his hand around your thigh and between your legs, feeling your wetness pool onto his fingers. Jake hissed at the feeling. You were soaked. He didn’t even need to prep you. And that drove him insane. 
“I told you to not fucking touch yourself,” he growled, his tongue licking up your ear, “But you had to go be a slut and disobey me.” 
You backed your ass against him, both hands shooting to your hips and gripping them tightly, “Don’t,” he warned, “Don’t fucking move.” 
You obeyed, keeping as still as possible. Trying so hard to not rub your thighs together in anticipation of what is to come. 
Jake lifted himself off of you, eyes drifting down to your dark blue panties, seeing the wet spot from your cunt on full display, all for him. 
Jake didn’t want to wait those few couple seconds to slide your pretty panties down your legs and throw them across the room. No, no. That wouldn’t be fun. He looped his index fingers into the fabric and the sound of them ripping filled the kitchen. 
“Jake!” you snapped, starting to lift yourself off the counter, only to feel his hand right back on your neck and face meeting the marble once again, “Those were my favorite panties!” 
“Womp womp,” he cooed, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your neck, as his fingers slid down to your clit, “Shouldn't have been acting like a fucking brat today. I also told you to not fucking move.” 
Jake violently, and fastly, circled his fingers on your clit. It took everything in you to not moan out in such pleasure. Not wanting to give your boyfriend the satisfaction of hearing you. He wanted to call you a brat? You’ll act like a brat. 
Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you were purposely holding back those sweet moans he desperately wanted to hear all in a way to get back at him. Unfortunately for you, Jake knows your body inside and out. Know what gets you going. Knows how to get you cumming with just his words alone. Knows how to work his cock in your pussy that will have you scream chanting his name at the top of your lungs for the whole apartment complex to hear. 
He released his hand from your neck and wrapped it in your hair in a makeshift ponytail, yanking harshly to pull you up, your back now pressed to his chest.
“Wanna act like a fucking brat with me, hmm? What will be happening next is the consequences of your actions.” 
Your bratty behavior was short-lived as his fingers worked faster against your clit, his breath whispering how much of a slut you were, his little whore, how bad of a girl you were acting today. 
Your body tensed, and Jake removed his fingers, “Jae,” you whined at the loss of his fingers, feeling the climax you so badly wanted fade away, taking it upon yourself to slide your own fingers to your heat to finish yourself off, only for Jake to slap your hand away, and you were back to being bent over the countertop, your arms being pinned above you. 
“Nah,” he groaned, his free hand gripping your thigh to bend it up and onto the counter, “Bad girls don’t get to cum, not when they disobey their boyfriend.” 
You groaned against the marble, feeling your hot breath push back up at you, “Jae, I’m sorry,” 
Jake smirked, he finally broke you. 
“Oh, yeah?” he whispered, taking his cock between his fingers and lining the tip up to your fuck hole, “You’re sorry?” 
You nodded, fingers gripping the hand that held yours. You wanted his cock so far up inside you so bad you were willing to beg, to apologize if it got you what you wanted. 
Jake slowly pushed the tip in, “Use your words, baby,” 
“Yes,” you pant, “I am sorry for being a brat.” 
“Hmmm,” Jake hummed, “You’re still going to be punished.” 
Jake aggressively pushed himself into you, completely bottoming out. 
You chant out a string of “yes yes yes,” at him filling you up. But to your dismay, he didn’t move. 
His fingers found your clit again, going just as fast as they did before his palm pushed down on your tummy, putting more pressure on his dick wrapped in your walls. 
You let out wet moans, drool sliding out your mouth and onto the countertop. 
“Louder, baby,” he groaned, “let me hear those sounds,” 
You moaned louder, cunt clenching around him, and his fingers were once again gone. 
You hissed at him and he just chuckled, “I told you bad girls don’t get to cum,” 
He continued to edge you, dick still not moving inside of you, reminding you over and over again that this was your punishment, this was the consequences of your actions. Being denied the release you so desperately wanted. 
Tears filled your eyes, head softly tilting up to make eye contact with him. 
His pupils were blown out, full of lust, want, and need. You could tell by his facial expression he was losing his fucking mind. But Jake was strong-willed, and all it took was you locking eyes with him, batting those pretty eyes at him with those little tears for his grin to grow wider and decide to finally let you release. 
Jake loved edging you, loved being so dominant and in control over you. Most importantly, he loved seeing how he’s ruined you. 
“Cum,” he whispered into your ear, “Cum for me my love, make a sweet mess on my cock.” 
You clenched around him, his fingers continued making their circles and showing no sign of slowing down until he felt your release on his cock. 
“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, slowing his fingers. 
Jake could feel your cum seeping out of your hole and down his thigh. He lifted your leg on the countertop even higher, spreading you so wide for him.
Then he started moving. 
You yelped, your back arching, hands scrambling to get out of his hold to grip the counter. He fucked into you at a primal rate. The hand on your thigh squeezing the plush so hard his nails dug into the skin sure to leave bruises. 
His hand released your hands and found their way back into your hair, pulling you back up against his chest. 
“Scream my name,” he moaned into your ear, breathing unevenly from the pure pleasure his cock was feeling as he railed you against this counter, “Scream my name.” 
And you did, using every ounce of air in your lungs to scream his name, his cock hitting your g-spot as your climax built up again. You already knew you’d have bruises on your hips from hitting the counter by his fucking, that your voice would be nonexistent in the morning, your legs would be jelly, and barely be able to move. 
But you loved it. Loved every bit of it. These were the consequences of your choices, after all. 
You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, mouth gaping open as you continued to moan out his name in pleasure. Jake couldn’t help himself, your mouth looked so pretty all open for him and shoved his fingers into your mouth, the middle pushing down onto your tongue. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, tongue swirling around his digits the best you could with the pressure he had on it. 
Jake was losing his mind as he looked down at you, seeing the way your breasts bounce as his dick fucked up into you, seeing the way your nipples graze against his jersey. 
Fuck he was so in love with you. 
His thrusts became sloppy and not as aggressive. He was reaching his climax. 
“Ughh m’gunna cum,” he moaned, your lips wrapping around his fingers and slightly biting down onto them, making him hiss in response. 
Jake wanted to cum so fucking bad, wanted to feel you tightly around him as he came. 
He shoved your leg off the counter, groaning as he forced your thighs to touch, making you so much tighter around him. You came right then and there from that pressure, sending Jake’s head spinning. 
He bent you back over the countertop, removing his fingers from your mouth and gripping the other side of the counter, his hand that was in your mouth slipping from your saliva and accidentally shoving the plate that once held your dinner off the counter and onto the hard floor with a crash. 
He pressed his chest to your back, using all his leg and hip strength to fuck harder into you in a way of begging for his release. His knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the counter, teeth biting down into your shoulder. 
The last moan you let out in sync with his final thrust sent him over the edge, his cum painting your walls. Jake thrust a couple more times to chase his high, milking his cock with your cunt of every last drop until it was leaking down your leg. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he pants, releasing the counter and running his hands down to your waist, softly squeezing as he plants soft kisses on your back, “I fucking love you.”
With a shaky breath, you told him you loved him too. 
He pulled out of you, and lifted you from the counter, already seeing how wobbly your legs were, it boosted his ego. 
Jake embraced you, kissing all over your face before landing on your lips in a soft, passionate kiss. 
Just when you think you’ve paid your dues, Jake’s cock hardened against your stomach, and his eyes went dark again, his index finger pointing at the broken plate on the floor while his other hand gripped your chin, “Clean it up please for me baby while I eat the delicious dinner you made for me, can’t let it go to waste.” 
You nodded, watching as Jake removed himself from you and walked to the stove, grabbing a plate. You studied his back muscles, lip tucking between your teeth at how sexy he was shirtless, how sexy his back was. 
“Oh, YN?” you hummed in response, watching as he slowly turned to face you, “Drink some water to soothe that throat of yours will ya? You’re going to suck me off after I eat.” 
You rubbed your thighs together in excitement. Hands playing with the ends of his jersey. 
Maybe you’ll be a brat when he’s away more often.
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2K notes · View notes
sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months
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MW Reaction to You Leading Them On
Warnings: 18+, Implied Smut, Dark! Modern Warfare, Horny! Modern Warfare, Possessive Behaviour, Territorial Behaviour, Entitled Behaviour, Threatening Behaviour, Incel-Coded! Modern Warfare, Dub-Con Themes, Implied Age Gap (Price), Physical Restraining, Kidnapping, Breaking and Entering, Reader Being Held Hostage, Abuse of Physical Power, Slut Shaming, Pet Names, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.
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Ghost
You’d only just noticed that Ghost stood at the front door of his apartment as if he were guarding it. Perhaps from your attempts at leaving.
You’d tried apologising to him for ‘stringing him along’ as long as you had, but you genuinely believed the two of you were just being friendly, bantering. Nothing more to it.
Obviously, Simon hadn’t seen it that way. You know that now as you watch his hand slip down the front of his sweatpants, palming his erection through them.
“Why don’cha come and show me how sorry you are with that pretty little mouth of yours.” He’s so monotone when he says it that you think he’s joking. His face tells you otherwise.
Of course, you’re speechless. But Simon cares little for your bewilderment. He looks down at you, his eyes narrowing. When you don’t come to him, he steps towards you.
“You know,” he says, coming closer. You step back. “Y’hear about pretty little things like you wandering into a man’s trap. Gettin’ ravaged.”
He’s before you, now, all but chest-to-chest. His eyes are black. Gone is the man you’ve been playfully flirting with these last few months; who you’d tried to push over the edge with your accidental grazes, your unintentional whines, the batting of your eyelashes.
None of that will save you now. His voice carries the weight of a dark star.
“How do you know this isn’t exactly where I want you.”
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König
König was eerily silent upon your rejection.
You both stood in his kitchen where, after watching you cook, his heart swelling beyond reason and fathom, König had blurted out that he liked you. A lot.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t return those feelings, only viewing König as a good friend at most.
And now, he stands sentinel over a reaction you can’t possibly predict. Especially as his eyes, usually crinkled with a smile and laughter, seem lighter than usual, as if drained of all their warmth.
“I see,” is all König says. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. He leans back against the kitchen counter, one hand gripping its rounded edge while the other remains free.
“I suppose I only have one option, then.”
König stands to his full height, approaching you, invading your personal space. He’s almost chest-to-chest with you, the bulk of his frame, the size of his biceps becoming glaringly obvious to you now as his shirt struggles to contain him, pulled taut over his musculature.
“I’ll just have to destroy you for any other man you try to whore around with.”
The way in which he says it suggests indifference; as if this is something he’s done or thought about a million times before. He presses you into the counter, hands coming to rest either side of you. He bears down on you, jaw clenched and teeth gritted behind straight lips.
“Then you’ll have no choice but to come limping back to me.”
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Soap
“Oh aye, Bonnie? You’re gonna drop me, just like that?”
The look Johnny gives you is one of incredulous disbelief. Yet, in some way, you feel that he already knew you weren’t dedicated to the idea of a relationship with him. Even after all the time you’d spent together, the many nights you’d enjoyed sleeping over at his apartment, the many treats you’d baked for him; these were all things one could easily mistake for friendship.
You’d considered that perhaps tonight hadn’t been the best time to let him down, regardless of how gently you did it, considering it was your weekly movie night and it was his turn to host. 
You wish you’d listened to your inner self. Especially now as Johnny watches you, his eyes silver and sharp like a wolf’s. Without warning, he pounces on you, taking your wrists and planting them into the sofa cushions.
He lies atop you, heavy. Unmoving. Struggling only makes him grunt, a spark flashing in his eye.
“Tell you what,” he proposes. “If y’can still remember yer name by the time I’m through with you,” he presses his hips against yours. You gasp at the feeling of something heavy and pointed catching you. 
“We’ll see how willing y’are to try’n lead me astray.”
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Valeria
“I see how it is,” she sighs, arms crossed over her front. She has you tied to a chair in her office, mouth gagged as you try to plead with her through your tears, your eyes. “You thought you could have your cake and eat it too. Thought you could have me while trying to fuck every other bitch that crosses your path.”
You’d dared to try and break things off with Valeria – ‘things’ referring to the one-sided pursual of your love by a certain cartel mommy. But alas, your efforts to repel her had only strengthened her resolve – her need – to have you.
“I’ve dealt with your type before,” she says, bringing her face down to your level. You swear her eyes are black, devoid of the slivers of humanity she still possesses – somewhere. The wrinkle in her nose forecasts disgust, an emotion you know first-hand does not bode well with Valeria.
“I thought you were different. Thought you’d know to shut up and take what’s handed to you – especially when you’ve worked yourself so hard to get it.” Valeria’s hand comes down between your legs, her fingers wrapping around the meat of your thigh. Gripping. Tight.
“Maybe the you I’m looking for is buried in there somewhere.” You can taste the venom in her voice as her scrutinising gaze roves over your bound form. She brings her mouth to your ear, intentional and without haste.
“And all I need to do is fuck it out of you.”
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Price
You considered for a moment that John hadn’t actually heard you. What, with his lax demeanour and total lack of acknowledgement of your rejection.
Of course, you were glad he wasn't reacting poorly, but to see him not reacting at all worried you.
“I could have you hidden away somewhere–” Price starts, lighting his cigar and not even looking at you, “–where you’d be for my eyes only.”
The fact that he says it so casually almost has you believing that you’ve misheard him. You blink, wait for him to prove you wrong
Much to your shock, he does nothing to quell your growing anxiety. 
“Bet you’d like that – having the attention of an older man. ‘Specially since you’ve worked so hard to get it.”
Now, he looks at you, with eyes hard and sharp as diamond, half-lidded, a glare that could cut glass.
“Sitting on my lap, wearing those tight little shorts around me. Bet you wanted this to happen, didn’t’ya.”
When you don’t respond, too shocked to even conjure a response that could cover even a fraction of what John had said, he spoke for you.
“Well, Love, got anything to say for yourself?”
He didn’t give you time to answer. He took his legs off his desk and stood, staring at you.
“Better say it now since y’won’t be able to say much by the time I’m done with you.”
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Horangi
“I just can’t believe you thought this would end well for you.” Hong-Jin paces before you as you sit on the edge of your bed, a hostage in your own home. Clearly, your rejection of his proposal to become his partner hadn’t ended well, hence the lock on your front door now lay broken, your security system disarmed.
“Especially after all I’ve spent on you, after all I’ve done to you – for you.”
His eyes never left you, staring you down. You tried not to shake, tried not to make a run for the door that, while open and tantalising in its beckoning for your escape, a steel model of a man patrolled it, patrolled you. Had you prisoner.
He stops before you, stands just inches from where your knees are jittering. His hands come down to grip them, giving them a squeeze. If it’s meant to be comforting, his intentions are lost in translation.
“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough with you,” he says. Offers you an out. “Maybe I’ve given you too much freedom.”
At that, he sinks to his knees before you and, without warning, parts your legs. You yelp, trying to pull away, but he keeps you tethered to the spot. His hands shoot to the top of your thighs and you can feel his fingers hooking over the sides of your bed shorts.
You try to reason with him, try to tell him you’ll do whatever he wants, so long as he doesn’t hurt you.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Only want to show you–” he pulls the sides of your shorts down– “what you’re missing.”
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Alejandro
The instigator of such a cold reception from Alejandro had been your refusal of a date with him. One which, unbeknownst to you, he’d been planning and psyching himself up for for the past week.
“I see.” Alejandro’s face was stern, thunder clouds rolling over him, making his features dark and pointed. The onset of a storm.
You didn’t know what to say, what to do, as Alejandro stood by your front door, dressed as if he was prepared to take you out right now.
You could see his jaw clench, his eye twitch.
“Is there someone else?” he asks.
You know that getting rejected solely because someone favours another over you is bad, but being rejected without competition is worse. You swallow, unsure of which option will infuriate Alejandro more. When you fail to answer, he sighs.
“You know, I always thought you were smarter than this, (Y/N).” His voice is low and intentional, like a plane flying too close to the ground. You look up, only to find him staring down at you, taking up all the space of your doorway with his hand perched on top of it like it’s nothing.
“But maybe I just have to teach you.”
You try to speak up for yourself, try to ask Alejandro what he’s playing at, but he shushes you. Steps into your home.
“I’ll have you crawling back to me by the night’s end, Cariño.” His words carry a weight that roots you in place. “I promise you that.”
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Rodolfo
“Oh, I know,” he says with all the certainty in the world. You’re in his apartment, coming to break the news to him that you can’t accept his boyfriend proposal; the one he’d sent you in a five-page-long love letter.
You blink, befuddled. “You…you know?” Your brow raises. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”
Rudy gives a hum, a smiling one. He puts his hands in his pockets, leans against the wall behind him.
“That’s because I know you don’t mean it.” He gives you little time to contemplate his statement before he’s descending upon you like a solar eclipse. “I just needed an excuse to get you somewhere we wouldn’t be…” He searches for the right word. “Disturbed.”
Strange, considering how he was disturbing you right now. He went on.
“I mean, how else was I going to get you here? If I’d just text you, you could shoot me down without coming anywhere near me. But now,” he’s close enough that his hands rest on your arms when he reaches for you, pulling him closer to him. You stumble on uncertain legs.
His grip is soft but you feel trapped, even if Rudy is one of the few people you’d feel comfortable being trapped with.
“Now,” he says, voice low. He pulls you into his chest, hard with years of training.
“I can show you how well I can please you.”
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Graves
Graves is far more used to being the player, not the played. So when he discovered that you were, in fact, engaging in what could be construed as promiscuous behaviour with him without the intention of falling for his charms, he went silent. His stare hardened.
He’d never admit it, but he’d actually grown to like you in the time you’d been together. A lot.
“So that’s it?” he says. His voice, usually rounded with his southern charm and honeyed words, strikes you like an arrow, ice and sharp. “We have a good thing goin’ and you’re just gonna throw it all away?”
You’d tried to explain to him that no, that wasn’t what you meant when you’d suggested some time apart. You just wanted to explore other options, is all.
He gives a whiplash, humourless laugh.
“Can tell you’re lyin’ from a mile away. I know you want me, need me.”
When you roll your eyes, ready to back out of the conversation altogether, he’s on you, closing the gap between you and gripping you by your shoulders. He presses you against the wall.
“Fight it all you want, but we both know you’re just gonna come crawlin’ back, so why don’t I make this easy for ya.” His breath is hot against your cheeks, a bull on the prowl. His fingers dig into your shoulders and he gives you an impish smile. One that seems to substitute something much more insidious.
“I’ll have you begging me to fuck you by the end of the night,” he promises. “One way or another, whether you like it or not, m’gonna make you all mine.”
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Gaz
Gaz has played the nice guy for far too long. This, he realises as he watches someone try to chat you up from across the bar, only to make the fatal mistake he himself had made: leaving you unattended.
Gaz wasted no time. He slithered through the crowded bar to you, taking your wrist in his hand on his way. He dragged you to a small room, dark and out of the way. He locked the door behind him.
“What was all that about, then.”
He faces away from you, but even through the dim light of the one, flickering light bulb above you, you could see his shoulders heaving, his hands clenched into fists as he awaits your response.
A friend, just some guy – it doesn’t matter. Gaz turns and bears down on you, backing you against the wall. Your hands fly up to his chest to try and quell him, to put some distance between the two of you. His heart pounds and so does yours, albeit for different reasons.
“You’re mine,” he says. He pens you in, his form broad and sculpted by horrors unknown. A hand comes to take your chin between its fingers, jerking your gaze to meet his. “Have I not worked hard enough to be able to have you yet.”
His voice cracks, though he shows no signs of crying. No, Instead he presses his front to yours. Something catches your thigh and you gasp.
“Maybe you just need reminding,” he tells you, “of how much I’ve done for you.” He rolls his hips against you, his hands coming to bolt themselves on the wall behind you, caging you.
“How much I can do.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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toruslvt · 3 months
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 WORKING OVER TIME.
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TOJI, KENTO, SUKUNA + FEM!READER.
mdni. dub con, gangbang, a bit of inappropriate touching but you don't complain, no curses au ( you all are office workers lol ) , stuck in a wall, cunilingus, anaI fingering, use of spit as lube, oral male receiving ( w Nanami and he's kinda mean ) unprotected sx aka creampies and cum swallowing. words used to refer reader: dummy, princess, slut. NOT PROOFREAD
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“c’mon pretty, I know you can get it” ever since you arrived at the company, Toji hasn’t lost a single chance to tease you, making his approach seem friendly when in reality, he just wanted to fuck you raw.
“i’m trying!” you huff in return, embarrassed by the current position that you find yourself in, stretching your hands to reach for the documents folder that fell behind large rack, and you, being the only girl working after hours was the perfect fit to help the man retreat such important material, “i can’t reach it!”
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Toji is so grateful that you’re not watching him, allowing his eyes to wander through the way your round ass is up in the air, standing on tip toes while letting out huffs of exertion, sounds Toji wished to hear while being balls deep in your tight pussy. a soft yet firm slap lands on your butt cheek, not painful but making you squeal, “Toji!” you yell, ignoring the way your face burns and core throbs, denying the attraction you had to the man wouldn’t take you anywhere.
he chuckles, “you’re almost there, just a bit more... although, i’m not complaining if you take your time, the view over here is wonderful”
“you’re the worse” you mutter, used to Toji’s behavior and way too over friendly touching, the tips of your fingers brush over the hard edge of the folder, skimming in a little further to grasp it with a triumphant sound, “i got it! Toji help me out”
“of course, princess” the man smirks, holding onto your hips but instead of pulling, you feel him pushing you down and deeper into the rack, your head almost hanging from the other side of it.
“Toji you idiot! now i’m stuck, you made it worse”
“nah” he tuts, “i think I made it perfect” there’s a deep laugh coming from his chest, clearly enjoying himself, rubbing his hands across your thighs.
“what’s going on?” another voice joins, steady steps approaching your squirming form, and you can tell who it is immediately, another one of your coworkers who adores teasing you nonstop.
“dummy got stuck while trying to pick up a folder that fell” Toji’s voice is filled with humor, a bit mockingly if you had to say.
Sukuna grins, allowing his hand to rest on the small of your back, “is that so?” you hear him laugh.
“i hate you both” you bite back, trying to ignore the growing wetness between your legs, most likely staining your panties and dripping down your thighs.
“oh, but it seems like you’re enjoying this” the pink haired man speaks again, letting a single finger trace the contour of your pussy through the pencil skirt you wore, pushing enough for your wetness to seep through and drench the other layer of fabric.
“i’m not!” you hiss, futilely trying to kick the men only for them to grab your legs, one each.
“this sweet cunt of yours says otherwise” Toji huffs, raising your skirt until it pools around your waist, taking a teasing lick across your covered slit to which you mewl, hips wiggling against your better judgement, “don’t fight, honey, we’ll make you feel so good” Sukuna’s hands then reach forward, spreading out your pussy lips after Toji tugged your underwear down, letting it stretch around your knees.
“what a pretty thing you are” Sukuna speaks, letting his fingers caress the skin of your folds, teasingly sliding them across your wet clit just for a brief second.
by this point all rational thoughts are pretty much gone from your head, focusing on Toji’s heavy breathing straight in your core, and Sukuna’s thumbs keeping your hole spread and leaking. a loud groan resonates in the small room, followed closely by the dark haired man’s tongue plunging into your sopping cunt, so deep and so good your hands desperately try to find purchase in the smooth wall right in front of your eyes.
“she’s gorgeous” Sukuna groans, palming his bulge, “isn’t that right, Kento?” and you yelp at his words, a sound that could get easily mistaken as a pleasurable one since Toji kept on slurping loudly against your clit, sucking on your folds and swirling your slick on the tip of his tongue.
Sukuna and Toji were something, but you actually held respect towards the blonde, worried about how his opinion on you would change by watching you moan over your coworker eating you out.
“what do you think you’re doing?” his voice is deep and calm, a bit tired if you had to admit.
“Kento!” you gasp and kick, earning a pinch in your ass and Toji’s muffled voice vibrating in your pussy, “if you’re going to moan someone’s name so prettily it better be mine”
“oh, c’mon, join the fun, she’s enjoying the attention, like a little greedy slut” this time is Sukuna’a turn to speak, returning to his place by hunching next to your hips, his face hovering over where Toji continues his assault and letting a glob of spit to fall in the crack of your ass, using the thick substance to rub on your puckered hole.
“n-not there! i can’t—” you whine, thighs shaking from the double stimulation.
“you say that but your pussy is fluttering like crazy” Toji chuckles, now using two of his fingers to penetrate your hole, going at such a fast pace that you’re unable to speak and just moan, “cum, I know you’re close” he rasps, his fingers not flattering until liquid gushes out of your cunt and soaks his fingers at the same time as Sukuna’s finger dips in your asshole.
“o-oh, my god—!”
“fuck yes, you’re so goddamn sexy” they half praise, half groan, both men digits still buried inside your holes and moving in sync, slowly driving you insane.
a second finger joins the one in your ass and the ones in your pussy disappear, replaced by a sticky trail that left on your thigh, up and across your asscheeks where Toji glides his cockhead against, tapping on your clit a couple of times for his own selfish enjoyment in hearing you beg.
“please...” you whine, not certain of what but the emptiness of your cunt brought tears to your eyes, twitching in aftershocks of your previous orgasm.
“you better be on birth control, baby, because i’m fuckin’ you raw”
“elders first” Sukuna chuckles, observing intensely how Toji’s cock slowly disappears into your wet hole, ripping whines out of your mouth and forcing your ass to squeeze Sukuna’s fingers, biting back a groan of satisfaction at the idea of how tight you might feel inside.
“fuck me! f-feels so good!” you scream, attempting to dig your nails in the wall as a shiver runs down your spine once Toji’s cock is deeply buried inside your pussy, drooling precum inside your slippery walls.
“so fuckin’ hot, i’m going to enjoy breeding this tiny pussy” you mewl while the man starts to pound into you, slapping Sukuna’s hand away and replacing it with his thumb, fingering your tight hole as his cock stretches your cunt, groaning deeply at the tight squeeze of your walls, sucking him deeper with each thrust.
“i’m cumming again” you cry out, embarrassingly sooner than expected, unable to stop the sudden wave of pleasure surging through your body and forcing your walls to clamp down on the cock ruining your insides. he continues to fuck you through your orgasm until his own high gets triggered, cumming hard with a deep growl, halfway pulling out to spray your folds and lower back with cum.
“prettiest pussy i’ve ever fucked” Toji says, stepping aside to allow Sukuna to pull your thighs back, forcing you to take his cock in one swift motion, filling every inch of your pussy.
“you love this, don’t you, a perfect fuckhole, letting us take turns in fucking this tight pussy” Sykuna growls, moving in slow but hard thrusts that knock the air out of your lungs, bringing tears to your eyes and you slick to drip down on the floor.
“y-yes, Kuna! my pussy feels so good” you babble delirious, thighs shaking under the intense and hard pounding into your hot cunt, overstimulated but feeling impossibly good.
“fuuck, you’ll make me cum soon, better stretch this pussy nicely for Kento, hm? he acts all serious but has been jerking off for the past hour” Sukuna’s last words come quietly, almost like a secret you pretty much enjoy considering the sudden tightness in your walls, squeezing tightly around his cock while his hands grip your hips tightly, keeping you still as his balls slap against your clit.
“f-fill me up, please” you beg, eyes crossing as your pussy cums around him, taking Sukuna with you as his hips speed up, groans turning into growls while he fills you with his hot cum, pumping into you with tiny thrusts, more like humping your ass.
you breathe heavily, trying to compose your erratic heartbeat as Sukuna pulls out, cum oozing out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.
an unconscious yelp gets ripped out of your throat at the sudden pull of your legs, unstuck and landing on the floor with a dull thud where your knees hit.
“open your mouth” Kento growls, tugging your head back slightly enough to guide the dripping tip of his cock into your mouth, a bit of consideration to your abused cunt.
“wettest cunt, wettest mouth” Sukuna whistles next to the blonde, watching how his length comes out of your mouth glistening and soaked with your saliva, “aren’t you perfect everywhere?”
ignoring the other men in the room, Kento starts to use your throat back and forth, careful but firm enough to bring tears to your eyes, adoring how there's drool slipping from the corners of your lips, eyes glossy and almost rolled to the back of your skull with how good you feel. it doesn’t take much time for the man to approach his orgasm, rubbing your tongue with his cock head and slapping your cheeks before plunging it inside once again, his groans only increasing with the subtle buck of his hips against your mouth.
“i’m cumming, you swallow it all” he huffs, pressing into your mouth as deep as possible, making your nose rub on the peach fuzz above his cock, choking and moaning as cum fills your warm mouth. “next time I’ll be cumming in your pussy, since you love slutting yourself out”
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zephyrchama · 4 months
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Writing prompt: If MC had been a sheep since they came to the Devildom and then suddenly became human again, would the brothers recognize them? (Under the cut, all 7 brothers, SFW, written in second person.)
Others might have written about this before, it's a fun concept. In the beginning of the manga it's explained that MC appears to be a sheep for reasons. I like to think that they gradually change back and their sheep characteristics slowly become more human, while maintaining sheep-like qualities for a while, but it's more fun to write about if they just. suddenly. change back all at once, ta-da.
Humans sometimes face adverse effects when traversing realms. The unnatural spatial movement has equally unnatural consequences for human bodies, which is why you found yourself in the body of a small pink sheep when meeting the brothers for the first time.
Solomon and Diavolo say it will wear off in time, as you adjust to the Devildom. Your body will return to normal eventually, but they don’t know exactly how long. Its been quite some time now and everyone just accepts that this is how things are. You are a small pink sheep, and you are family.
You expected a gradual transformation - to slowly regain human features over time as you got used to life in the Devildom. That didn’t happen. Day by day nothing changed, until the transformation happened all at once.
Lucifer
Lucifer had seen your photo on the exchange student paperwork months ago. A generic little square image stapled to the application, hardly better than a driver’s license photo. He might have taken your paperwork out of the student council room and put it in his private office desk for safekeeping, or to look from time to time to remind himself you really were human.
He was the first one you thought to tell. A big change like this was surely worth a visit to his room, even if he was busy. You knocked your usual knock. Now that you were human-sized, you could reach the middle of the door, but the lack of hooves meant your knock was quieter. There were several seconds of silence. Maybe he didn’t hear you. You went to knock again, but a familiar gruff voice called out “come in,” from the other side so you reached for the handle.
There were piles of record book and stacks of forms upon the desk, but the eldest brother was still visible from the doorway. As if sensing something was different, he paused mid-writing and looked up. Lucifer was taken aback for a moment but quickly regained his usual composed poker face. You tried to hide a smile. Seeing him surprised like that was a rare occasion.
“I see you’ve finally gotten used to it here. Congratulations.” Maybe it was the soft light inside the House of Lamentation, but Lucifer thought you looked far better in person than in that photo. He put down his pen and crossed his hands under his chin. It almost masked the way he leaned slightly forward to get a better look at you over the large desk. “Do you feel alright?”
You nodded, it was strange to adjust to your old height again but you were glad to be back in your body. “You’re sure you feel fine? Come here,” he commanded.
Sitting next to him as a sheep while he worked had become so natural, yet doing so now as a human made you feel so self conscious. Your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding his gaze until he grabbed your shoulder and said “look at me.”
To you, he was just being overprotective. A routine check up on the exchange student to make sure they’re healthy after a sudden transformation. Maybe being close enough to feel his breath each time he exhaled was also necessary. To Lucifer, it was the time he’d been waiting months for. To see your glossy hair, not just a ball of wool, and study the contours of your face. How smooth your cheeks were and the way you politely kept up an embarrassed smile. Yes, the real deal was much nicer than a photograph.
Mammon
Mammon had no idea who you were, at first. You were sitting on the couch, wasting time while waiting for the next family meal. The front door slammed open loudly and closed with a bang. Mammon finally strolled into the living room after a long evening of make-up lessons at school.
“When’s dinner ready? I’m starvin’!” His boisterous voice made the house a little livelier. “And hey, where’s--”
He stammered when his eyes met yours and his voice faltered back down to a normal indoor volume. “Didn’ know we had someone vistin’. Hmph.”
Your jaw dropped. Was he really this dense? He couldn’t recognize you despite all the time you spend together? You turned around to watch over the back of the couch as Mammon walked to the dining room, then left to go down the hallway that led to your room. Several moments later he was in the kitchen. You could hear voices, but not what was said.
After some time he came meandering back to the living room. With one hand on his hip, he remained standing and leaned against the other couch. He was agitated and impatient, and with no one else around he turned to you.
It must have been five seconds, max, but it felt like you stared at each other for an hour. You pouted, glaring at the idiot who thought you seemed like an oddly familiar and comforting presence. “Who’re ya here to see? If it’s The Great Mammon, I’m a busy guy. I can’t just stand around. WIthout compensation, I’m leavin’.”
“Mammon,” you said. Just one word. You sounded hurt. It made his heart skip a beat, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Huh? What’d you say?” He heard you loud and clear. He just wanted you to speak again, to hear your voice once more and confirm he wasn’t imagining things.
Of all the ways you imagined showing off your human body to him, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Maybe you were wrong for expecting him to recognize you no matter what, but just like him you would never admit that.
“Oh my gosh, you’re a fool! Here’s your ‘compensation!’” Swiftly, you launched a decorative cushion square at his stomach. Your strike is nothing to him, but you landed an emotional blow when you went to storm off.
He grabbed your wrist before you got out of arm’s reach. Forcefully at first, but quickly realized he had to loosen up to avoid hurting you. “Wh- huh? Is that you? Why didn’t you say anything!? When did this happen?”
Walking away was futile as Mammon was rooted to the spot. “That’s really you, right? This ain’t a joke?”
He pulled you in towards him and spun you around to look at your face. You were mad and upset and relieved that he stopped you and embarrassed at having so many emotions at once. He finally knew, you're his human, alright.
Leviathan
It took a while for things to click for Leviathan.
He first saw you from afar on campus. He wanted to steer clear from you., like with every other student. Though he did do a double-take and stare.
He’d never seen you (well, proper human you) around before, and you looked just like the customizable characters you always created in his games. Same hair style, same eyes, same sense of style. His P2 was real. It was uncanny and he couldn’t wait to tell you all about seeing your player character wandering around campus.
That’s when he realized he hadn’t seen you all day. The sheep you. You were always easy to find due to being bogarted by his flashy brothers. You were one of the few to casually greet him every day as assurance he was welcome at RAD. You were human, and humans weren’t sheep. Didn’t Lucifer say something about that when you first arrived? Oh.
When Leviathan didn’t show up to classes after lunch you went looking for him. It was a tough quest. He wasn’t in any of the usual hiding places and wasn’t answering his DDD. He really didn’t want to see you. Or, well, he really did, but clearly wasn’t prepared to. You finally found him on a bench, shrouded by overgrown tree branches and isolated far on the outskirts of RAD’s campus.
Low muttering gave away his hiding space, unintelligible as he was biting down hard on his thumbnail while he raved. His hair was a tousled mess and from time to time he’d jump up to flail or shake his head.
“Lev-”
You tried to greet him and got met with a glorious, high-pitched shriek. You pushed on anyway.
“Levi! I’ve been looking for you. Notice anything different today?”
“You! Y-y-y-youuu!!” He could not look you in the eye, or look at you at all, but your familiar voice made everything clear. It took some time for him to speak again.

”You sat in my bed! You sat in my lap!” He referenced all the times you’d stay up late gaming with him. He never objected to that before. “You! You did all that! How could you?”

”I… thought we were friends?”
”Well I didn’t know you looked like that!”
All the wholesome memories Levi had of you two bonding, demon and sheep, suddenly changed. No longer were you a cute fuzzball sitting on his legs or snug against him like a plush while he slept. You were a cute human, with human features, sitting between his legs and being held against him in bed. Overnight you went from essentially a security plush to a real person, and he was having trouble adjusting.
“You lied to me! Aagh!” He kicked his legs and pulled at his hair in anxious frustration, his thoughts branching in dozens of conflicting paths at once, so you did the only thing you knew to calm him. A big hug.
He froze right up. You stubbornly told him “I’m still me, you know.”
“But you look…” For the first time he tried looking right at you, but all you noticed was the intense blush across his face. It made you smile.
Satan
Great Detective Satan picked up on your change quickly. It wasn’t hard to deduce for anyone who paid close attention to mysteries, like he did.
You hadn’t asked for any help that morning reaching for things high up. You didn’t ask anyone to carry your heavy school books. Most obviously, you were sitting in the dining room enjoying a hearty piece of toast when he also sat down to eat breakfast. Even though he didn’t physically recognize you, who else would be fearlessly sitting at the House of Lamentation’s breakfast table and happily greeting the Avatar of Wrath?
Rather than the scrambled eggs, Satan was most interested in you. He didn’t hide the way he stared. “You look different.” Slowly, eyes never wavering, he took the chair beside you.

”Oh yeah! Check it out, I changed back!” You went to stand up and show off, but first needed to wipe the crumbs off your face. Too bad the napkin just slid off your lap and onto the floor. “Ah, hold on, I’ll show you in a sec. It’ll be worth it.” You didn’t want to look sloppy on your first day as a human again, and although hands were easier to eat with than hooves, you had prioritized munching on delicious breakfast food over eating cleanly. Without another clean napkin in arm’s reach, you went to pick up what had fallen.
“Allow me.” Napkin unfolded, Satan leaned in close. Before you could acknowledge his offer he had a hand wrapped around your chin. The heat of his fingers could be felt on your lips through the cloth. He spent an unnecessarily long time tracing the contours around your mouth. A cleaning this thorough would surely ward crumbs off your face for at least a week.
A full minute later, Satan was satisfied and leaned back in his own chair. He didn’t stop staring though. You gave a heartfelt, “thanks! Now let me show you,” and stood up to twirl.
Asmodeus
Asmodeus recognized you right away. He was the only one not taken aback, and was thrilled to see you returned to full glory. “You look just like your socials!”
Not one to miss out on trends, Asmodeus had signed up for a few human realm social media sites. He considered it to be the cultural exchange aspect of your exchange program. On particularly slow evenings he’d even scroll through several years of your image posts and save the cutest ones. Asmodeus was very well acquainted with both your human and sheep looks.
“Do you have anything to wear other than your uniform? We really should trim your hair, too. That didn’t stop growing while you were a sheep, huh?” He was immediately all over you, twirling your hair in his long fingers while circling like a predator locked on to its prey.
“Oh really?” You hadn’t noticed your hair being overly long. You were just happy to be back to normal. “Yeah I’ve got plenty of clothes, but my hair? Are there, like, demon barbers around here? Can you help?”
“Leave it to me! And your nails!” His hand found yours and soon your fingers were entwined. He lifted them up, cheerily exclaiming “how about matching with me?” as he pulled you towards his room. It was hard to keep up with him, but at least you stood a chance now unlike before in that small body. He noticed, and with a cheeky grin turned to ask “you're not still having trouble? I’ll carry you, you know. And when you need another trim, you come to me first.”
Beelzebub
Beelzebub lucked out. He came into the dining hall for the most important meal of the day, just in time to see you twirl for Satan, proclaiming “I’m back!”
Your voice was the same, and you smelled the same as ever. He let out an astonished “woah” while taking the seat across from you. This new form was much better than the sheep one. His fears of accidentally hurting you with too much strength somewhat abated. Though, in his eyes you were still tiny.
“Morning!” you greeted. “Notice anything new?”
”Boy, do I.” Through a mouthful of food, he asked “how did this happen?”

“Dunno, it must have happened overnight. I just woke up and bam.” You flashed a pair of finger guns at Beel and he laughed.
After breakfast, you two became alone in the dining room. You piled up the dirty dishes and Beelzebub carried them into the kitchen as you followed behind, saying “we better hurry, I didn’t realize it was this late already.”
“Yeah.” He placed everything in the sink, then turned to face you. He held out his arms. “Ready to go?”
Carrying you to school appears to have become a habit. Beel didn’t even hesitate to gently lift you up like you were weightless. It was an everyday occurrence when you were a sheep. But back in your old body with longer legs, having his arm wrap around your waist without a layer of thick wool to cushion you, things felt different. “Y’know, I might be able to walk to school today.”
“Hm?” Beelzebub took a moment to process this. Like he had completely forgotten you got your body back in that short span of time. “Oh! Sorry. Force of habit.” Almost dejectedly, he crouched to set you back on the ground. You reached around to grab his shoulders anyway.
“Well, I never said you had to let go.”
Belphegor
Belphegor thought he was still sleeping. Your human figure was a familiar sight he had seen multiple times. It was how you manifested in your dreams, after all. Sometimes when you napped together he would pick up glimpses of your dreams. On this day he had made it to RAD with time to spare and was dozing off in his seat when you arrived.
Unreservedly, he dragged himself several feet over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder right next to your ear. “Hey.” This was a dream anyway, might as well enjoy it.
“Belphie, are you still asleep?” you asked. Physical contact wasn’t so bad, but it got embarrassing in public like this. With a futile shake you tried to rouse him. “Look! Did you notice? I’m not a sheep anymore!”
“Mm, yeah. You’re you.” Avoiding the lights, he buried his eyes in your neck, wishing it was a little darker. He liked you like this. But if this was a dream, why did the light bother him? Why was he still so tired? “Is it… Hm? What time is it?”
“Time for class to start soon. If you fall asleep again Lucifer is gonna kick your butt. Wake up.” You roughly ruffled his hair, causing him to groan and cling to your waist tighter. It did succeed in getting him to raise his head, at least.
After a sleepy pause, Belphegor seemed to grasp his surroundings. He squinted and leaned back, sizing you up. You couldn't tell if he was waking up or preparing to slouch down again until he spoke. “You really changed back? For real?”
“Yep!”
“Heh, good for you.” He pat your sides and let go. It tickled a little. Now, while you were distracted, was his turn to ruffle your hair. Payback disguised as playful praise.
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nikidiary · 7 days
Text
all yours - nishimura riki
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pairing: ni-ki x fem!reader genre: fluff, might be a very very tiny bit suggestive ? cw: making out, not proofread wc: 400+
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"come on, we will look so cute!" you begged your boyfriend to buy matching hello kitty pajamas.
"there's no way i will put on pink hello kitty pants," he chuckled.
10 minutes and a bunch of "please riki" later, you both walked out of the store with the hello kitty pajamas in your bag. you were really happy.
riki wasn't.
but anything for his princess, as he always said.
later that day, you two finished showering, and you put on your new comfy pajamas.
"ahhh, we look so good. oh my god, come here, let me take a picture."
riki walked behind you as you opened the camera app to take some mirror selfies.
"put a shirt on," you said in a serious tone and looked at your boyfriend through the mirror.
"why? are you perhaps afraid some of your girl followers would find me hot?" riki said in a mocking voice.
yes, that was exactly the reason. you didn't want to straight up tell him this, you didn't want him to think you are insecure.
that wasn't the case. you just really didn't want anyone to drool over your boyfriend.
riki noticed the way your facial expressions changed. he spun you around, picked you up, and gently placed you down on the bathroom counter, your back hit the cold mirror.
"i'm all yours, you know that, right?" riki leaned closer to your ears, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
you nodded and placed your hands on his broad shoulders.
he left a quick peck on your lips, which you returned. the kisses slowly became messy and needy. how could they not? you both kissed like this is your last time being able to taste each other's lips. you couldn't get enough of him, neither could he. you wished he could be all over you all day and night. his hands wandered around your body, and his lips traveled down to your neck.
"please," you whispered against his plump lips.
"please what, baby? you know you have to use your words with me," riki placed his hands on both sides of your neck, while he stared deep into your eyes.
"please don't stop kissing me," you replied, your cheeks lit up in a soft pink color.
of course, he didn't even plan on stopping. if he could, he would kiss you all over everywhere, all day. his lips found themselves on yours immediately.
these random and quick make out sessions were your favorites. he always made you feel so good with his kisses and touches.
a few long minutes later, the kisses finally stopped. he leaned back and cupped your face in his hands.
"now, how about we take those pictures?" he helped you off the counter.
"just wait, i'm going to put my shirt on."
that smirk on his face... makes you even more attracted to him.
870 notes · View notes
olivyh · 1 year
Text
Does nobody in this house knock?
A/N: I've had this idea in mind for a while, and I've been on an Obey Me kick recently- I love these boys so much and they're so fun to write for (although consistently including six/seven people in one story is a bit of a challenge). This is supposed to be read as platonic but could go either way tbh. GN mc as always loves <3
Slight TW: For nudity (nothing serious really happens MC is just taking a bath and the brothers don't know what privacy is)
The House of Lamentation had its ups and downs- of course, the place was massive, which came with a plethora of spaces to crawl into if you wanted a moment of silence or needed a pretty room to study in. The kitchen was just as spacious- you were sure you couldn't use up all the counter space if you wanted to. The architecture was gorgeous and you could stare at the paintings that littered the halls all day (you wouldn't dare, though, after being told that some of them dislike the attention and could curse you if you stare for too long). Similarly, your room was one of your favorite spots in the house (along with Asmo's bathroom, which you were one of the lucky few to get the privilege of using when he wasn't having one of his frequent spa days. You also enjoyed wandering around the mansion (which, sadly, you were banned from doing after getting lost in one of the never-ending hallways and ending up deep underground, leading you to tearfully call Mammon and a house-wide scramble to find you before another one of Levi's rogue pets did). 
The downs were, naturally, the lack of private time. Despite how big the house was, everywhere you went one of the brothers seemed to conveniently be heading in that same direction or even already in that room. Did you want a snack in the kitchen? Beel was three steps ahead of you, and already inviting you out to Madam Screams after he cleans out the fridge. Need to study in the library? Satan just so happened to be going there as well (did he not have enough in his room? You thought almost bitterly at the loss of your time). Wanted to nap in the planetarium? You trip over a passed-out Belphie (why was he sleeping in the doorway?) and end up with a bloody nose from the impact. Wanted to sit in the common room? Levi was already there, playing Devil Cart on what looked like the Devildom's version of a switch with Mammon. If you wanted to study at the dining room table, Asmo would find you and all but drag you to his room for an impromptu game of dress-up. You'd thought going to the eldest would at least leave you alone, opting to study in his office until he'd corrected you on your posture and the way your shirt was hanging loosely off one shoulder more than the other every time, occasionally asking you questions relating to your work and not-so-subtly correcting every wrong answer you'd made (even if you never fully finished the problem). 
The brothers, however, knew that one time of the week was off limits- Saturday nights. You would often slip away and claim the shared bathroom for hours at a time, lighting candles and filling the bath until it was just high enough for you to soak up to your shoulders in. Of course, this was met with very little resistance (especially considering that all seven brothers somehow shared one bathroom with one toilet, which always baffled you. Though, you were certain that Lucifer had one of his own and was neglecting to let the others know). It never clashed with the nights Beel would come back from the gym in desperate need of a shower, or the nights Asmo would stumble back to the house covered in lipstick stains and reeking cheap perfume, or when Mammon would return covered head-to-toe in mud from walking Cerberus. You needed your time, you had told them. And they'd obliged. So, you'd set up a small routine to relax.  
Which was exactly what you were doing. You slip out of your silk robe (gifted by Asmo, naturally) and take a step onto the stool. The shared bathtub was absolutely massive, and you had to shyly ask Lucifer if he had a stool you could use just so you didn't have to climb into the damned thing the first week here. At a distance, it looked normal until... you stepped closer and realized that it wasn't. Although, you supposed it made sense considering how large the brothers were, especially Beel. It was hard picturing him fitting into a normal-sized tub, especially remembering that he struggled to submerge himself fully in the one they already had. Chuckling to yourself, you gingerly lowered yourself into the warm water with a sigh as you feel the pressures of the day melt away into the bubbly water.
The candlelight is the only thing illuminating the room, and the soft sounds of the water splashing against the side of the tub is nearly enough to lull you to a soft sleep if you'd decided to give in to the temptation. The brothers seem to be quieter than usual as well tonight, as you would normally hear some kind of yelling while bathed in the silence of the bathroom. You gently kick your feet in the water and watch as the ripple shines in the gentle candlelight. 
The water in the Devildom had shocked you with its opalescent gleam the first time you'd seen it, worried about drinking it. It had reminded you of the colorful outline left from oil slicks in puddles after it would rain. You were relieved to learn that it wasn't toxic, now basking in the slight glow that it gave your skin and the way it soothed any aches that you had. 
It was the perfect night, but you'd regretted not grabbing a snack to keep with you, or a glass of Demonus to drink while you soaked (even though you wouldn't get drunk and it tasted more like a spicy grape juice, you still felt fancy).
"Oh my stars, hon, you would never guess what happened!" You're shaken out of your thoughts as Asmo's shrill voice rings through the open doorway He makes his way over to the bath, pulling up the chair that sat in the corner of the room and you try to hide your growing annoyance. He leans over the edge of the tub, teasing his fingers in the water and playing with the bubbles. "So I was at the Fall, right-"
"Asmo," You say, a quiet warning. 
"And he really thought he could get away with trying to get between me and this other guy! Like, how dumb could you be? So anyways I turned to him and-"
"Asmo!" The demon pouts, folding his arms on the warm porcelain and resting his head on them, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. "I'm naked."
"I'm aware," He huffs, pursing his lips. "I've seen you bare before, love. Even if I hadn't, your body is not unappealing." He winks and you feel your face heat up. "So back to what I was saying-"
"MC!" Another shout and you groan, sinking deeper into the bath. "You're never gonna guess what I just did! I won the horse races! Highest bet, baby!" Mammon pumps his fist in the air as he beams, mussed hair likely from nervously running his hands through it. 
"You're interrupting my story, you ass!" Asmo shouts. 
"This is more important than your dumb story, drama queen!"
"Mammon!" You grumble. "Bathing?" He doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues to pace around the room, recalling every small detail about the race. His keychain clicks against the chains that loop from his belt, the clinking ringing through the room and grating on your nerves even more. Asmo continues to mindlessly play with the bubbles, even raising a soft hand to place a small crown of bubbles atop your head. You take it as a quiet apology from the demon. 
"I finally finished the book you'd asked me about-" Satan, as perceptive as he is, seems to understand your harsh glare from within the bath as he walks confidently through the open door (courtesy of Mammon and his excited forgetfulness). "And I'm aware that this is your time but I simply could not wait another moment-" He sits beside Asmo, nearly pushing the smaller man off the chair. The latter gasps dramatically, rounded lips forming a harsh 'o' shape as he holds his hand over his heart, offended as ever.
"Hey! I wasn't done yet!" Mammon huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. 
"You are now," He sneers before slipping open his book, reading through various notes and post-its he left buried within the pages. "Now, this scene in particular really stuck with me, and I'd very much like to hear your thoughts on it. It's when the protagonist-"
"Mc," Another quiet, almost apologetic voice from the doorway. Beel stands, nearly taking up the entire entrance, with armfuls of chips as he empties a bag into his mouth and tosses it into the trash near the sink. "I felt like you were hungry, so I got you something to eat," He holds out another bag and you take it, sighing as you fumble to open it and dig in. 
"Thanks, big guy," He hums before sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a still dejected Mammon, offering the older a bag as well. You don't have it in you to be annoyed at the gentle giant, and you were getting a little hungry, after all. 
"Anyways, back to my story-" Asmo begins, filling up the silence. 
"I didn't finish either," The second born growls through a mouthful of chips. 
"Finish eating, and Asmo, you were here first, you did your time and now it's my turn-" Satan shuts both of them down. 
"I wanna tell them about practice-" Beel interjects, moving on to another bag of chips. "I did a really cool move where-"
"Mc!" Another familiar voice joins the fray. "SoIwaswatchingthatshowyoutoldmeaboutandIthoughtitwasreallycoolandthere's-" Levi takes a gasping breath before continuing. "Areallyreallyreallycoolshowcaseonitinthehumanworldcomingupandweshoulddefinitelygo-"
"Levi, sweetheart, please breathe." You remind him, sinking deeper into the bath until it's just your eyes and nose peeking out from the surface of the water, glad that it muffles the sound a bit. 
"We should definitely go and wear matching costumes like the main characters and it'll be really cool and I already have an idea on how to make the props and it'll take a bit of time but we can definitely get it done in time and-"
"Ignore him," Satan sighs. "Anyways, I believe this scene is incredible I mean, did you see the wording in the second to last paragraph? It was so emotional I could hardly believe that he was faking it the whole time and-"
"My love, I never finished telling my story!" Asmo whines, pulling at your knee, which escaped from the water and is exposed to the chill of the air from when you sunk down further. "So then we ordered some Demonus, you know, as you do, and then this song starts playing and he comes back, so Solomon and I look at each other- you know that one look we share sometimes?- yes, that one, so we look at each other and then-"
"Hey, with all the money I just got, we should go shopping, yeah?" Somehow, Mammon had snuck around to the other side of the tub and started pacing on that side, grinning to himself. "I'll spoil ya rotten, I swear. Where do ya wanna hit first? We could go to Majolish, or we could hit that designer store up in the human world ya were tellin' me about-"
Beel continues to sit in silence, but his loud crunching is nearly deafening with all the noise the brothers are making, each of them unwilling to stop talking and wait their turn. 
"Mc-" A yawn. "Here you are-" Belphie stumbles, half-awake (and you weren't even sure of that, with how limbs moved ragdoll-like and the way his eyes were still closed.) "...was looking... everywhere..." He cuts himself with a snore before he falls forward and his stomach collides with the side of the tub, flipping over and landing in the water with you. 
"Belphie!" You shriek, fumbling to simultaneously get as far away from the still-sleeping demon as possible while trying to save him and while also trying to cover yourself from the eyes of the men in the room. 
"You're naked?!" Mammon screams, backing away until his back hits the wall. 
"HUH?!" You hear Levi wail before a thud sounds through the room and, if Satan's snort is any sign, you were sure he'd definitely just passed out and was lying unconscious on the cold tile of the bathroom. 
"Of course they're naked!" Asmo hums. "Who bathes with clothes on?"
"I don't care! Someone get Belphie out right fucking now!" You scramble up the side of the tub, feeling the rough fabric of his cardigan as he surfaces for air, still asleep as he hugs you as close to him as possible, burying his face- or what little you could see of it, with how his soaked hair conceals practically the entire thing- in the crook of your neck and wrapping his legs around your own (you grimace at the feeling of his wet sweatpants against you). Beel comes to your rescue as he attempts to pry his twin's arms off of you and apologizing every time his hands brush your exposed skin. Embarrassment heats your face as you try to squirm away, shouting at Mammon to grab you a towel as more and more water sloshes out of the tub, effectively soaking the pages of Satan's book and smearing some of Asmo's makeup. The former lets out an annoyed grumble as he curses the seventh for falling in and causing a scene in the first place while the latter gasps and rushes towards the mirror to assess the damages done, complaining about how perfectly his makeup was done today and now he was going to have to start all over-
Mammon rushes forward, towel in his extended arm as he slips on the spilled water with a yelp and sends himself flying into the tub as well, landing on top of Beel, who was still attempting to pry Belphie off of you. Beel, shocked by the impact, drops Belphie back onto you and is sent forward by Mammon's weight. Mammon follows close second, leaving you with three demons now in the tub as you try to shove all three off of you. It's difficult for them, as Beel is face-down in the water, his face wedged between your stomach and Belphies, with his legs bent awkwardly out of the tub and Mammon wedged between you and the wall, hands unable to find purchase as he's contorted and squished- not to mention that Belphie's legs had attempted to wrap tighter around your own and had successfully trapped Mammon's arm against your thigh and his face against the space between your shoulder blades, as well as further squishing his twin's face between the two of you. Both your hands are occupied with getting their heads out of the water so they could at least breathe, with two fistfuls of ginger locks and snow-white ones. 
"Everyone out, NOW!" Lucifer's voice rings from the doorway and the room is silent once more. The eldest grabs Beel's collar and pulls him out of the tub, with a grumbling Belphie following close behind (finally awake from the shouting). Mammon follows soon after, skirting out of the room without needing to be asked twice, not concerned in the slightest about how soaked his designer jacket was as you were sure he was going to explode from how red his face was. Asmo and Satan follow close behind, with the fourth-born grabbing a still-unconscious Levi by the ankle and dragging him out of the room. You sigh and sink into what little is left of the water, resting your head against the edge of the tub. 
"Thank you," You sigh. "That was a nightmare." 
"Of course," The firstborn stands still for a moment, clearing his throat. "While I am here, I recently received the scores from the exam that you had taken last week-"
"Lucifer," You glare at the man, eye twitching in annoyance. "Out."
He sighs, turning on his heel and striding out the door, closing it behind him with a click. Finally, in silence, you try to relax once more. 
The pounding of your heart doesn't allow it, though.
Neither do the bruises on your stomach from Beel's hard-as-a-rock forehead, or on your ribs from when Mammon had elbowed you in an attempt to flee, or the scratch on your back from when Beel had tried to separate Belphie from you only to find that the youngest was going to fight tooth and nail to continue your impromptu cuddle session and dug his bitten nails into your skin.
You laugh bitterly- something caught between an annoyed growl and a sob- and slam your fist uselessly against the porcelain. 
You were going to get them back for this.
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lialacleaf · 8 months
Text
A Touch Too Personal
Chapter 1
Simon Riley x Reader
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Summary: You had a crush on Ghost since you started working for Price in communications, but the gruff, reserved Lieutenant only acknowledged your existence on the job. That starts to change with a simple, thoughtful gift.
Warnings: Fluff, Simon is bad at processing emotions, past trauma
Chapter 2
You cared deeply about every single one of your teammates. It didn’t matter that you were sitting in an office talking to them over the radio, you were still providing them with intel and directions that kept them alive.
They were like a second family, and so Task Force 141 slowly began to feel like having a lot of older brothers.
Johnny was your go to partner in crime when it came to making mischief, and you knew he was always down for a good prank.
Kyle on the other hand was good for having deep conversations and was the one you always went to for advice.
Ghost…well ghost was a bit different. Your feelings towards him weren’t exactly that of a sibling. Maybe it was because he was more reserved than the others, a mystery or puzzle that you couldn’t quite figure out, but you couldn’t help but feel warm inside on the rare occasion that his intense gaze did linger on you.
Which lead to your current dilemma.
Every time you went home, you made sure to bring one of the boys a gift when you returned to base.
Being that Price was like a father figure, you brought him a handcrafted mug from your hometown’s local pottery festival. Soap had gotten a pocket knife with his call sign engraved on it, and Gaz had received a baseball cap with a hand stitched 141 on the side in his favorite color.
However, now it was Ghost’s turn, and you were at a loss. What would he even like to have? You knew he had an array of tactical gear, you’d seen him knit pick through it on occasion, but you didn’t know enough about working in the field to know kind of tools he’d like. He had so many knives already, that it felt redundant to get him another.
What on earth were you supposed to give this man?
“Maybe you could make this Ghost fella something yourself?” Your mother suggested as you sat in your parents living room to ponder the issue.
Your mother liked Ghost’s nickname, and laughed whenever you brought it up. You could only assume she was picturing a little boy in a Scream costume, and you had to admit that was a little funny. Ghost was the only one to not have shared his real name with you, and thus always ended up being teased by your family, not that he was aware of that.
“Like what?” You asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m stopping by the craft store, how about you come with me instead of sulking in the living room?”
~
You watched your mother peruse through the holiday decorations and shook your head. That woman was amassing quite the Christmas village collection.
You wandered through the store with dwindling hope until you saw it. It was in the fabric section that you found the most perfect pattern for your Lieutenant.
The fabric had a black background, with white Ghosts all over it. You picked up the roll with a brilliant smile on your face, and ran over to one of the fabric department employees.
“I need some of this,” you said, giddy and bouncing on the balls of your feet.
“How much do you want?” The woman asked, preparing her scissors.
Ghost was a pretty large man, and you took a moment to think about just how much fabric you were going to need.
“Uhhh, a lot.”
~
“Lass! How was the family?” Johnny asked, pulling you in for a tight hug as you pulled your luggage into your room on base.
“It was good, ate a lot, took my cousins shooting, family stuff,” you said with a grin. “I gotta show you something,” you insisted, pulling him inside your room.
“Oh? What’s that?” He asked curiously.
“You know how I always bring back a surprise?” You began, a grin on your face.
“Who’s the lucky winner?” He chucked.
“You tell me.” You beamed at him as you pulled out the larger than life knot-tie blanket you’d made, and Johnny’s jaw dropped.
“You did not!” He gasped, chuckling at he inspected it. One side was the Ghost fabric you’d found, and the other was made from the softest army green material you could find. In the top corner. You’d stitched in a small British Flag patch, and each corner has a sandbag sewn in.“You made him a bloody weighted blanket? What gave you that idea?” He asked.
“We’ll I couldn’t find anything I thought he’d like at first, but then I saw the fabric and it just fell together so perfectly!”
“Oh man, I would kill to see his reaction to this,” Johnny said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.
“You say that like we ever get to see his reaction to anything,” you stated. You’d never actually seen him without some sort of face covering.
Johnny tisked softly and shrugged. “Alright, you got me there,” he admitted. “He’s in his room now, probably as good a time as any.”
You couldn’t help but grin broadly. “Perfect.”
~
You felt a lump form in your throat as you approached Ghost’s door. You knew it was just the nerves that came along with your little crush on the Lieutenant, but it still made the task at hand a little daunting.
You took a deep breath, knocking softly on the door. Maybe you should have wrapped it for him. What if he didn’t like it? How were you supposed to react if he just brushed you off.
The door opened before you could rethink your decision. It always came as a shock how large Ghost was, no matter how many times you stood mask to face.
“You’re back.”
You felt your heart rate spike. He had noticed you were gone? Had noticed you? Of course he had noticed, it was his job to notice, it didn’t mean anything.
“Yeah,” you said, waiting for him to ask how your trip was, or if you were glad to be back. He didn’t.
“I got you something!” You said suddenly, holding the folded blanket out to him, and his entire body seemed to freeze. He stared at it for a moment or two, as if he were slowly processing the object.
“What is it?”
Your smile faltered. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he inspected it as if it were some kind of trick. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he took it carefully from your hands.
“Where’d you get it?”
Shit, he hates it.
“I- Uhm. I made it,” you admitted, your cheeks blazing. This was stupid. You were stupid.
He looked between you and the blanket in his hands, and nodded. “Thanks,” he said before stepping back into his room and closing the door.
You pressed your lips together firmly in an attempt to not start bawling. You walked off on shaky legs, taking deep breaths. At least he hadn’t told you he didn’t want it.
~
Simon sat on his bed, his thumb brushed over the small flag patched into the corner of the blanket. The fact that you had made him a gift by hand had his stomach in knots. He knew about your little gift tradition with the rest of 141, but he hadn’t expected to be included, nor did he expected you’d go to such trouble. The two of you weren’t even very close.
He swallowed thickly as tears pricked his eyes. This was the nicest thing any teammate had ever given him.
He brought the fabric to his face and gave it a deep whiff. It smelled fresh, like laundry detergent. You must have washed it before you gave it to him.
Simon spread the blanket carefully over his cot, admiring how the fabric felt against his hands. It didn’t catch on his calloused fingers, and wasn’t too fluffy.
It was large too, as if you’d taken his massive size into account. He was certain he could easily caving himself in it. His bottom lip wobbled slightly, and it was an effort to hold his tears at bay.
That night, Simon slept soundly, wrapped in your carefully crafted gift, and you were the only thing on his mind.
AN: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!
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earthtooz · 9 months
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x : AUGUST 12TH :*+゚
in which: reo sees his birthday marked down on your calender, and it fills him with the courage to win you back. or, he's hiding from the paparazzi... in your apartment, for whatever reason.
warnings: 2k wc, gn!reader, exes to lovers but they're very much in love, they kiss (eww), minor angst and minor embarrassment for reader but it's very cute, very much fluff and happy endings, professional soccer player reo, characters aged to be around 21+
a/n: I LOVE REO. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!
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August 12th used to be one of the most important dates on your calender. Now it is one that brings forth bittersweet thoughts and memories whenever you think too hard on it, reminiscing a love that you had to let go long ago, despite how badly you wanted to keep him.
Mikage Reo’s name used to be stamped loud and proud beneath the date, with a heart that you hastily scribbled on due to the awkward angle of the page. His name is still on there, just without the heart, and merely in capitalised letters of your handwriting. 
You don’t know why you need to record it down because you remember it regardless, the set of numbers etched in the crevices of your mind. In fact, when August first hit and you were planning the month ahead, the act of recording down Reo’s birthday was a second-hand instinct, and when you did so without realising, a little pool of embarrassment and hurt developed in your chest. You didn’t even have the guts to cross it out either, despite it being almost seven months since you split.
Not a day has passed without you thinking about him, clearly.
But it was nothing to be embarrassed about because no one will ever think too much about it, especially not Reo, because he has no reason to ever step foot in your apartment ever again. If he ever saw it, you might just wither away.
So why on earth was he here now, sitting on one of your kitchen stools? The one that he used to always sit on when he came to see you when you were still dating with the reasoning that it ‘gave him a better view of you whilst you were scurrying around’.
Now you are ever aware of his gaze on you, entranced whilst fixing him a mere glass of water. 
Sliding it over to him on the marble countertop, he takes it with a grateful smile. “Thank you for allowing me to hide here, and I'm sorry about bringing you into all of this.”
“No problem, you got lucky that i have nothing better to do today,” you sigh, trying to tune out the clamours of the paparazzi that were residing outside of your apartment complex. Wandering over to the balcony window, you see that the swarm hasn��t decreased from when you last checked. 
Your poor, clueless neighbours. None of them deserved to be dragged into this. You wonder when it can all settle down.
“Reo?” You murmur. He glances over at you immediately, attentive purple eyes bright and wide in their curiosity. “Why did you come here out of all places?”
“You’re…” he falters. “You’re the first person I thought of, and I just so happened to be nearby.”
“Nearby? There’s nothing to do around my neighbourhood. What could you possibly have to do here?”
He looks away, shamefully staring down at his glass of water. “Errands. Stuff.” 
“Okay,” you trail off, not wanting to prod further. “So how are you thinking of getting out of this situation?”
“Does your apartment have another way out?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Well unless you want me to jump from your window, then my only way out is to wait,” he says with a shrug and you pinch the bridge of your nose. The clamours of the crowd below can be heard even on your second-level home, and no matter how badly you wanted to return to your work, a certain ex of yours is only another reason for your headache. 
Since the breakup, you never thought Reo would ever be here again, however, fate seems to have pulled peculiar strings to bring him back to you- on his birthday too.
You won’t admit that this all feels a little set up. Perhaps it was the universe mocking you for not being able to stop loving him, despite it being you who forcibly let him go so he could fulfil his soccer ambitions in England.
The last time you saw him, he was crying at your doorstep, reluctant to go and to let you go. It is a sight that will always haunt you, especially when you then shut the door in his face and ultimately, ending your relationship.
Would you let him go again if you had the chance? No. Reo won’t ever know that, though.
You doubt he wants you back.
“Maybe you needed a better disguise if you wanted to escape the paparazzi,” you mutter.
Reo fiddles with his sunglasses. “Don’t scorn a man who just wanted to go out. I can’t even do anything normally nowadays anymore, not even in Japan.”
“Well, yeah, you’re kind of a big shot, Mr-Signed-With-Manshine-City,” you huff. "It's like high school and your fangirls all over again."
“You remember my team?”
“Why wouldn’t I? It's all anyone talks about, especially after the World Cup.” 
“And you listened?” 
“Of course I did,” you confess, no louder than a whisper. “I’m happy for you, Reo. You're really amazing.”
Something about your sentimental statement makes the purple-haired frown, looking away as an obligatory ‘thank you’ slips from his lips.
There’s a quip resting on the tip of your tongue about it being his birthday, but it slides back down your throat with the ease of paper, cutting you in the process. 
“Can I request something from you?” You question.
“Anything," the athlete looks over at you with hopeful eyes.
“Since you’re using my house to hide in, can I have your Netflix password so we can watch a movie or something?” You murmur, “something’s telling me that you’ll be here for a while.”
He laughs, bright and exuberant and boyish that it makes your yearning expand tenfold. “Sure, as long as I get to pick what we watch.”
Your heartstrings soften a little, “fine. I have popcorn somewhere so let me get that out.”
It only takes one movie for the clamour outside to disappear. You’re sure that your neighbours called the police at some point too given then flash of red and blue that illuminated onto your walls, but there was little conflict, and eventually, the quiet returned. You should be grateful for it, really, because your headache can calm and you can get back to doing your work, but it also means that this is the end of yours and Reo's paths. He’ll leave your apartment, and then Japan, and then your life will return to the seven month-long limbo that it was without him, with possibly no due date this time.
He stays around until the end of the movie, however, and when it’s over, he stands with a huff, hands on his knees to help push him up. If you weren't too focused on your dread, you'd have noticed the subtle reluctance clinging to him.
“I ‘ought to be going now, I’ve been in your hair long enough,” sighs the soccer player. “Thank you for allowing me over.”
“It wasn’t a problem,” you mutter. “It was nice seeing you again.”
“Likewise. you lo-” Reo’s eyes widen before he shuts his mouth, visibly shaking the sentence away as you’re filled with an invasive sense of curiosity. You want to pry his words out of his mouth, but you don’t think that’s appropriate for your current relationship. “I’ll see you sometime.” 
“Yeah. I’ll be here.”
He nods. During the time of your conversation, the two of you had made it to your kitchen and to your horror, Reo stops right before your calender. He glances at it and has to do a double-take, making sure that his eyes hadn’t failed him.
How will you recover from this one?
Reo turns to you, eyes and smile soft and so so warm. “You still have my birthday marked down.”
“Oh. You’re right!” You laugh awkwardly. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you. I’m honoured you remember.”
“Oh my goodness, please shut up,” you hide your face with one hand and Reo laughs harder.
“Do you remember how old I’m turning as well?”
“We’re the same age! Of course I'd remember-”
“-do you have a present for me? You know I love presents.”
“Go buy your own damn presents, you multimillionaire.”
He laughs harder and you almost want to chase him out of your house. “But I like it when they’re from other people!” 
“I don’t have a gift for you, Reo, now can you please shut up?”
“If you don’t have a present then can I ask you for one thing?”
“What is it?”
“A date. Tomorrow, at your favourite place downtown.”
The light, cheery environment dims and you find your breath getting lodged in your throat. “Reo… I- we, we shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” He asks, “do you still love me?”
“I have your stupid birthday on my calender and no one else’s, not even mine, so yes I do still love you.” 
He grabs your hands and you feel weak in the knees, clasping onto the warmth you had grown so familiar with. “Then another chance, please, that’s all I ask for.” 
“I let you go for your sake, you shouldn’t have someone like me dragging you back whilst you’re in England. Didn't you see how successful you were without me?” You mutter, thinking back to the night that you let him go, recalling all the pain you felt. 
And how you might relive it again tonight.
“Dragging me back?” he parrots, voice slightly strained. “I thought about you the entire time I was abroad, every training session, every time I scored a goal, I thought about doing it all for you. It might have hurt me to not have you there with me, but it killed me to know that I didn’t have you at all.” 
Reo rests his forehead against yours and you close your eyes, basking in the intimacy that you never thought you could ever experience again with him. “And it killed me even more to know that you wouldn’t be waiting there for me when I came home. You know who was there instead? Stupid Zantetsu, and a few high school friends, but not you.”
“I love Zantetsu though, we get coffee together all the time,” you comment quietly. “He told me that he was going to pick you up.”
“And I can’t believe you didn’t even think of going with him.”
“Exes don’t go to the airport to pick each other up.”
“So be my lover again,” pleads Reo. “Be mine again, be here for me every time I return to Japan.”
“Is it what you want?"
“A thousand times yes.”
You sigh through your nose, memorising the feeling of his forehead against yours one last time before parting from him. “Then pick me up tomorrow, at half past six, and we can go downtown.” 
His smile could rival that of a thousand suns, and just seeing it is enough to cure your heart.
“Okay,” he nods, a dreamy sort of look settling in the purple hues of Reo’s gaze. “Okay! I'll be here, without paparazzi this time, and no one will disrupt our date, I'll make sure of it.”
“One more thing before you leave. Stay here!” You command before scurrying through your house and into the study to retrieve a pen. Uncapping it, you then scribble a little heart on the calender, right next to Mikage Reo’s name.
You don’t miss the look of pure elation on his face.
“Call me. My number hasn’t changed.”
“Okay, I will, I will. Watch out for it.”
“Then I look forward to it.”
“Now I really don’t want to leave,” he whines, gently pressing you against the wall with his hands holding onto your shoulders. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to ask to stay the night, would it?”
“No, but, I think we’re beyond your awkward gentleman-liness.”
“Then, I have permission to do this, right?”
He presses his mouth to yours, hot and needy, you wonder if he’s trying to swallow you whole so you really can’t ever leave again. 
“Happy Birthday, Reo,” you murmur against him.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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hier--soir · 1 year
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don't cry over spilt milk
joel miller x f!reader
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rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: joel is not happy to find out that you slept with someone else. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] fwb!joel, major jealousy, possessiveness, reader is kinda mean and clueless, mean!joel, some unrequited feelings, smut, unprotected p in v sex, oral [f!recieving], spitting.... word count: 4.8k series masterlist | masterlist this is part three of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: one, two, four.
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The community dining hall was full of people. Groups of families and friends huddled on long tables, eating dinner together. The summer heat was killing you; thick, humid air suffocating your skin, making it feel like your thin singlet was melting onto your back. And being inside the dining hall did nothing to stem the early evening warmth, so you sat and basked in the stale sticky air while you ate, trying to ignore the way sweat made the skin of your thighs stick to the chair beneath you.
“And I can head shot those fuckers from a mile out,” Tommy was saying, his fork hovering in mid-air between his plate and his mouth. “I stand up on the hill and I spot ‘em, wandering around Alpine Crest Community, and I just take ‘em out. Ain’t nothin’ to it.”  
You rolled your eyes, fork pushing the remaining food around your plate. “Give it a rest Tommy, save some humility for the rest of us.”  
“It ain’t about bein’ humble,” he grinned at you. “It’s about knowin’ your way around a sniper – and I know it best.”
“Oh shut up, Miller,” someone further down the table threw a dirty napkin at him, and he caught it, gripping it to his chest and chuckling in mock indignancy. “Some of us are trying to eat our dinner in peace, without having to hear any of your stories.”
“Ask Ellie,” he continued around a full mouth this time. “She saw it. I let her have a shot at it too; kid’s not half bad.”
You gave him a bemused look, “And how did Joel react to you letting Ellie use the sniper?”
 “Our little secret,” he winked at you.
Fairly often the group of you would commune in the hall and share a meal together, catching up on work and family and settlement gossip. It was a nice way to connect with the community, and you would damn sure rather eat dinner with friends in the hall than alone in your house.
“Hey,” Tommy called out suddenly, the rise in volume startling you. Turning in your chair, you followed his gaze to see that Joel had walked into the hall and was making a beeline toward your table. “How was patrol?”
Joel settled beside the table, standing directly behind your chair. “Good,” he said blankly. “Uneventful.” He looked down to you, and you smiled up at him, holding out your fist as a greeting.
He didn’t return the sentiment, staring blankly at your hand in the air until you shook it at him. “You’re supposed to give me a fist bump, Joel. It’s how friends greet each other.”
Your friends tittered around the table, none of you picking up on Joel’s bad mood quite yet. “You joining us for dinner?” one of them asked him.
“Not tonight,” he shook his head, still staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “I need to talk to you,” he said.
“Sure,” you blinked, scraping the last of your food onto your fork and shovelling it into your mouth ungracefully. “You good?”
“Sure,” he replied vaguely, glancing at Tommy for a split-second. “Come outside.” Before you could respond, he had turned and was making his way out of the hall.
You let out a low whistle and rose from your chair, glancing at Tommy. He was watching you closely, a slight ridge formed in between his eyebrows. You cringed and looked away quickly, muttering a goodbye to the table before heading outside. After what happened a few weeks prior, things with Tommy were always awkward when it came to you and Joel being alone. Although he’d never brought it up or asked any questions, for which you were eternally grateful, you knew he had to be curious, and his mind would’ve been whirring at a hundred miles a minute trying to figure out the situation going on between you and his brother. You just thanked your lucky stars he didn’t have the guts to ask you about it outright.  
When you stepped outside the doors the summer air smacked you in the face all over again and you grimaced, spotting Joel marching away from the hall and jogging to catch up to him.  
“What’s going on?” you followed him, speaking to his back as he walked ahead of you, leading the pair of you down the street. “Joel?”
He spun suddenly; feet planted in the dirt as he stared you down. His expression was unreadable, but you could see in his posture that something was brewing deep inside of him. He was tense; hands fisted tightly by his sides, jaw locked.
“Lloyd Peterson, huh?”
“What?” your face twisted in confusion. “What about Lloyd Peterson?”
“Overheard him on patrol today,” he said gruffly. “Was telling Davis he fucked you last week.”
An uneasy feeling rolled through your stomach. “Christ,” you huffed. “What an ass.”  
“He’s lyin’ then?” Joel raised an eyebrow.
“Oh,” you paused, rocking back on your heels. “I mean, no; he’s not lying. Just didn’t think he was the type to shout it from the rooftops.”
As you spoke, you didn’t immediately notice how poorly Joel was reacting, but soon enough you were locked into a staring match with him, realising just how badly he was reacting to the information.
He was silent. For a moment, you weren’t even sure if his chest was rising and falling. The summer breeze whistled between you two, playing with his dark curls. But his face was stony. Lips sealed shut and dark eyebrows drawn tight in the middle of his forehead as he glowered at you.
You opened your mouth to speak again, but he cut you off in an instant, his cold words slicing through the tense air. “You fuckin’ many other guys?”
Eyebrows raised high, you shook your head no slowly.
“Just Peterson then.”
“It was one time Joel, it’s hardly a regular thing.”  
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
Your stomach dropped. With those words you saw past the stormy expression on his face, the way his fingernails dug crescent moons into the palms of his hands, and understood the insecurity hidden underneath it all. The jealousy. Your heartrate kicked up a notch as you wondered where the fuck this was coming from. Sure, you and Joel fucked around and spat possessive nonsense at each other while you fucked, but this seemed bizarre. You’d been close friends for years, and had been fucking casually for months. So why was he suddenly acting like you had betrayed him?
“What do you mean?” you questioned him slowly.
“Thought we had fun together,” his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. “Didn’t realise I wasn’t doin’ it for you anymore.”
“Joel, this has nothing to do with you,” you huffed.
“The hell it doesn’t,” he barked, and you flinched, looking around quickly to see how many people were within earshot of the conversation. You were standing in the middle of the street for fuck’s sake.
“Shut up,” you hissed. “You’re making a fucking scene.”
Joel took two quick steps forward until your chests were close to touching, staring down at you with an intensity that almost made you shudder. “Tell me why you fucked him.”
For a split second, you despised him for the guilt you felt. Heat soared across your cheeks, and your palms were damp with perspiration. He was glaring, dark eyes holding your gaze and making it almost impossible to look away. So you allowed your guilt to shift to anger.
“What the fuck is it to you?” you whispered viciously, painfully aware of a woman walking past. “Jesus Christ, Joel. Last I checked, you and I are friends. Just because we get our rocks off together doesn’t mean I owe you anything, least of all an explanation for fucking someone else.”
“Oh, fuck you,” he spat, words laced with venom. “I’ve never once asked you for anything. Not for anything other than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more. And I thought we had a good thing goin’; thought we had an understanding. We rely on each other, we trust each other. Didn’t think you’d go off and fuck someone else while I was out on patrol one day.”
The implication behind his words made your chest tighten. The insinuation that if he had his way, you two would be more. You pushed the thought out of your mind to deal with later.
“It just happened!” you said, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You placed them on his chest and pushed him back a step, eager to have some space between you.  “It was in the heat of the moment, he made a move, and it happened, okay? It’s not like I waited for you to leave the fucking gates and then I beat down his door.”
He was breathing heavily, and you could see the cogs turning rapidly in his head as he soaked in your words. You spoke again before he could. “You’re telling me you don’t fuck anyone else?”
Joel’s face twisted into an ugly snarl, and his silence was all the response you needed. And really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. If he was so scorned by the idea of you and Peterson, he obviously wasn’t fucking other people.
“What do you want me to say?” you asked, voice softer. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re my friend, and I care about you Joel, I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“I don’t want an apology,” he scowled.
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to tell me,” his voice lowered, and he stepped closer, leaning down to breath his next words into your ear. “Tell me how he fucked you.”   
Your breath hitched in your throat, mouth drying instantly. “What?” you mumbled in shock.
“You heard me,” he whispered, so close that his minty breath tickled across your face. “How did he fuck you?”
“Joel,” you shook your head, trying to ignore the sudden pulsing at the apex of your thighs. “This is ridicu-“
“Did you let him taste you?” he growled. “He put his tongue inside you?”
“N-no,” you stuttered out, wetting your lips desperately. “No, he didn’t.”
“Shame,” Joel chuckled mirthlessly. “He’s missin’ out.”
You prayed he didn’t notice the way your nipples had hardened through the thin material of your shirt.
“So what then?” he prompted. “Tell me.”
“Are you being serious?” your cheeks blazed. “I blew him, we fucked. What do you want me to say?” His eyes darkened considerably at the mention of another man’s cock in your mouth, and you willed yourself to hold strong and not back down. God he was intimidating when he wanted to be.
“How did he fuck you?”
“He was on top,” you grunted, feeling like a student getting scolded by their teacher.
Joel hummed in response, his eyes raking over your features, before flitting down and taking in the sight of your body. Your hands were shaking with frustration, but your legs were pressed tightly together were you stood, thighs tensed in anticipation.
“Let’s go,” is all he said, before turning and marching in the direction of his house. You followed him wordlessly on shaky legs.
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The house was empty and quiet when you got there.
He held the front door open for you, and once you were inside he slammed it, sliding the lock into place. You jumped slightly at the loud noise, a nervous wreck as you anticipated what was about to happen.
“Upstairs,” he muttered, leading you up and into his bedroom.
As soon as you reached the room, Joel was on you, pressing you against the closed door. Large hands kneaded your flesh, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. His kiss was rough, all wet tongue and lips and teeth bumping against teeth, as he pushed himself desperately close to you. You gasped into his mouth, whimpering as his teeth bit down on your lower lip, enjoying the sharp sting as he pulled back and stretched it out before letting go. He gripped the hem of your singlet and ripped it over your head, bearing your chest to him.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he sponged kisses down your neck, across your collarbones, before wrapping his lips around one of your aching nipples. You sighed in relief, gripping his hair tightly as he sucked and licked at the tight bud, his teeth lightly grazing it occasionally. His left hand drifted up your sternum to pinch the other one, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, and groaning into your chest at the pathetic sounds that drifted from your mouth.
Over the sounds of your own panting, you heard the sound of a zipper being undone, and looked down to find him pulling himself out of his jeans. He was already hard, the tip red and weeping precum as he began to stroke himself slowly, never stopping the movements of his mouth on you.
“Joel,” you panted, pushing his face away from your chest. “I want to taste you.”
He grunted, eyes never leaving your face as the muscles in his right arm tensed with every tug on his cock. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”
Considering the heat, you were happy to do as he asked, sighing in relief as you peeled your sticky clothes from your body and settled yourself in the middle of his large bed, sitting balanced on your heels, waiting for him to join you. He pushed his jeans down his legs slowly, tearing his shirt over his head until he was just as naked as you were. Your mouth salivated as you stared at him, eyes constantly drifting between his face and where he fisted his cock, desperate to feel the weight of him on your tongue.
“You want my cock in your pretty mouth, baby?” he asked lowly, and you nodded quickly, mentally begging him to get on the bed. Joel stared at you for a moment, contemplating, before a mean grin split across his face. “Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we, sunshine?” You faltered, frowning at him as he reached out and pressed on your shoulder, pushing you down so you laid on the bed.
Joel got onto the bed and rested on his knees, gazing down at you. “Spread your legs. Go on, show me that pretty pussy.”
Splaying yourself open on the bed, you basked in the feeling of his eyes raking over you, taking in every inch of skin on display, every detail of your body. His eyes worshipped you, and your heart panged in your chest as you recognised the look in his expression. It was awe.
“Look at that,” he leered. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. Dripping wet and I’ve hardly even touched you yet. Who’s that for?”
“For you,” you breathed.
“That’s right. Because it’s mine, ain’t that right?” It wasn’t abnormal for him to talk like this when you were fucking, but in that moment the words felt heavier. They held more gravity, a more honest yearning in them than usual.
And yet you nodded. “Yours, Joel.”
Upon hearing your words he leant down to press his chest on the bed, and his lips were dragging along your inner thigh, coming dangerously close to where you wanted his mouth the most, but not quite going there yet.
“Unlike that fuckin’ boy,” he snapped. “I’m gonna enjoy takin’ my time with you. Not gonna waste an opportunity to get my mouth on this beautiful cunt.”
Your chest heaved at his words, and you were about to make a snarky comment but then his mouth was on you and all thoughts left your brain. He pressed deep, longing kisses into your folds, his tongue swiping between them in broad strokes, moaning as he tasted you for the first time in over a week. Strong hands gripped your thighs and held them apart as he devoured you, his tongue dipping into your entrance before moving up to lathe slow circles around your aching clit.
Your head was buried in the pillows, hips shifting restlessly and pushing against his grip, trying to grind yourself up against face, desperate for more friction. But he held you down, refusing to speed up his movements.
“Fuck,” you moaned lowly, reaching down to grip his shoulder, digging your fingernails into his skin to show him how good it felt. Joel groaned into you in response, dragging his tongue along the entirety of you, ending it with a sharp flick across your bundle of nerves. You gasped, twitching underneath him.
He hooked a finger inside you, the tip pressing deliciously into the spongy spot on the roof of your walls. You whined desperately, longing for release as he painstakingly lapped and sucked and kissed your sopping core. One hand gripped his shoulder, and the other clawed frantically at the bedsheets, searching for leverage, for something to bear yourself against as he built up your orgasm.
“Feels so good,” you gasped, torso writhing against the bed. “I need more, please, Joel.”
Without warning, he pressed a second finger inside you, and then a third, stretching you out while his tongue flicked against your clit. A broken cry spilled out of your mouth, your stomach tensing painfully tight as he pressed into you. Liquid heat began to spread through your abdomen and thighs, and you longed to wrap your legs around his head, press him in closer, have him gasping for breath against you. But his grip tightened, forcing you to stay splayed on the bed.
“Not yet,” he murmured against you.
“I’m so close,” you mewled.
“Not yet,” he repeated, pulling back to stare down at where his fingers worked you so perfectly, pushing against your walls, stretching you out for him. He leaned down and spat onto your pussy, and you clenched painfully tight around his fingers, mouth ajar at the feeling. And then his mouth was back on you, strong tongue flicking back and forth over your clit savagely, and you moaned his name desperately, begging him to let you come. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer, and heat flooded your body, your own heartbeat rushing in your ears, body twitching and writhing beneath him as he removed his fingers from you and pressed his tongue into your entrance, sucking and licking up every drop of your release. Your eyes were shut tight, and your mouth hung open in elation, breathy moans of praise slipping from between your lips.
As you came down from your high, he pressed soft kisses against you, giving gentle kitten licks against your clit as you twitched into the bed, away from the pressure on your overstimulated nerves. Finally, his mouth dragged away, and he pressed kisses all the way up your sternum before his lips were against yours. His face was wet from your slick, and it smeared across your cheeks, but you didn’t mind, kissing him eagerly, tongue delving into his mouth to taste yourself.
For a few moments, the pair of you simply laid there, legs tangled together and kissing messily, sighing into each other’s mouths. But it was like a switch flipped suddenly, and Joel pushed himself off you, his walls flying back up. The frown descended back over his face, and you sighed in frustration, wishing he would just forgive you.
Reaching out, you trailed your fingers over his abdomen, touch featherlight, and enjoyed seeing the way goosebumps rippled across his olive toned skin. He shuddered, the muscles underneath his skin tightening as your fingers lowered, trailing through the curls at his base before gripping his thick length.  He grunted at the feeling, hips pushing forward slightly. You stroked him lazily, swiping your thumb across his tip and collecting some of his precum before lifting it to your mouth and tasting him. You hummed, tongue swirling around your finger.   
“Enough,” he said quietly, manoeuvring himself to rest between your open thighs. His cock bobbed against his stomach, smearing a light sheen across his skin in its wake. Your core ached, clenching around nothing.  You were so wet you could feel it dripping out of you, soaking the sheets underneath where you laid.
Joel gripped his cock and leaned forward, dragging the tip through your folds, covering himself in your slick. You moaned in unison at the sensation.
He tapped himself roughly against your clit once, twice, three times until you were trembling, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip, eyes screaming please just fuck me.
He nudged the head of his cock against your entrance and pushed forward ever so slightly, looking down to watch his tip push inside of you. The slight obtrusion made you hold your breath, impatiently waiting for him to take you. He gripped the backs of your knees and wrapped your legs around his waist, where you locked your ankles to hold him against you. The only sound in the room was of your erratic breaths, mingling together in the air. You made eye contact with him and offered a small, encouraging smile. Without wasting another second, he pressed forward, your walls welcoming him until he was so deep inside, bottoming out as his hipbones collided with your thighs.
A choked gasp escaped you. The weight of him inside of you was so heavy, his thick length filling you up to the point where you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.
“Always so fuckin’,” Joel groaned, hips pulling back a fraction before he pressed back into you. “Tight for me. Squeeze me so good, s’like you were made for me.”
“You’re so big,” you panted. “Feels so fucking good, Joel.”
He began to move with slow thrusts, pressing into you deeper, harder, with every shift of his hips. You threw your head back into the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as your body sang from his touch. His hand disappeared from your leg and gripped your face, thumb pressing into one side of your cheek while his fingers dug into the other.
“Look at me,” he ordered, and your eyes flew open as he squeezed your face, lips parting wider. “I want to see those eyes while I fuck you.”
“Okay,” you acquiesced, tone laced with apology for daring to look away for even a second. His thumb hooked into your open mouth, and he leaned forward so his lips were almost touching yours. But Joel didn’t kiss you. Instead, he spat right into your mouth, and you moaned deeply, swallowing it down. He pressed his thumb against your lips and you opened up for him again, so he could work it into your mouth, pushing down onto your tongue as he fucked you painfully slow. You closed your mouth around the digit, lathing your tongue over it and coating it in a mix of your saliva and his. He groaned in response, his hips jutting forward in a sudden harsh thrust. Dragging his hand from your face, he gripped your thighs again, grinding down into you and making you whimper at the friction as his coarse hair rubbed against your clit. You looked down at where you were connected, watching him rub himself against you.
 “Was it like this?” he asked quietly. Your eyes snapped back to his.
“What?” you mumbled, mind hazy with desire.
When Joel spoke again, your entire body stilled. “You said he was on top?”
You hesitated before nodding, your heart palpitating in your chest.
“Was it like this?” he repeated the question, his movements pausing.
“Sort of,” you muttered shyly. It felt silly, to be shy in front of him when he had his cock inside you and you were both fully naked, but nonetheless, you were.
“Tell me,” he said those damn words again.
“He,” you gulped in a breath of air, forcing yourself to speak. “He pushed my legs up, so I had my-“
Joel’s movement interrupted you, as he pushed your thighs down to press against your chest, your ankles resting on the top of his shoulders. “Like this?”
“Yes,” you gasped, trembling at the new angle. “He said it would be deeper; said it would feel better.”
“And did it?” he spoke through gritted teeth, jaw clenched tightly as he watched your face. “Did it feel good when he fucked you like this?”
Your face blazed, and in an effort to take back some control, you grinned up at him slyly. “It felt fucking great.”
He pulled out almost completely before slamming his length back into you, and you moaned brokenly, face twisting at the sharp pain that shot through you. There was no denying that Joel was the biggest you’d ever experienced; your walls stretched sharply around him every time, always needing a moment to adjust. But he was relentless, fucking into you roughly, hands gripping your ankles to keep your legs up. The heat in the room had tripled from your joint exertion, and your skin felt tight, beads of sweat rolling off your forehead and into your hair.
“Fuck,” you cried loudly.
“You like this?” he growled. “You like me fuckin’ you the way he did?”
“Joel,” you sobbed, tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of your eyes.
“You wish it were him instead of me?” he asked, pressing a sloppy kiss to your shin, and you frowned, mouth twisting into a grimace.
“No,” you babbled. “No, Joel, he could never fuck me like this, so deep, you’re so big, fill me up so perfectly. No one could fuck me like you.”
“That’s right,” he grunted, pounding into you mercilessly. “This pussy is mine. No one else could get you like this; so desperate, begging me to make you come. You’re fuckin’ mine.”
“I’m yours,” you cried out, that all too familiar heat igniting in your stomach like a match had been lit. “I’m gonna come Joel, don’t stop, please don’t.”
“Come for me, baby.” Sweat was rolling down his neck, and you gazed up at him through bleary eyes, chest heaving with deep breaths as you felt yourself rest precariously on the edge of your orgasm. “Wanna feel you grip me, I’ve been missin’ it. Show me how good I make you feel, c’mon now.”
His voice was ultimately what pushed you over the edge. That rasping, Southern drawl that you loved hearing mutter filth into your ear. You pulsed around him, an animalistic cry tearing from your throat as he fucked you through your high. You could vaguely hear him rattling off a mix of curses and your name as he bucked into you, and then you felt him paint your insides with his spend. Joel rocked you both through your highs, fingers kneading the flesh of your thighs as he worked himself inside of you, a mix of both of your cum squeezing around his cock and dripping down onto the bedsheets.
When all was said and done he pulled out slowly, watching you closely as you winced at the loss of his weight inside you. Wordlessly, he disappeared into the bathroom before returning with a wet cloth, and used it to clean you up. He settled heavily on the bed beside you, lying flat on his back and cracking his knuckles loudly.
“I’m fuckin’ spent,” he drawled, scratching his beard. You rolled onto your side so you could stare at him, and murmured a quiet agreement. He stared up at the roof, and you frowned, frustrated to feel tears welling up in your eyes.
“Joel,” you whispered. He must’ve heard your voice break, because he turned on his side so you were facing each other straight on. His face was calm, wrinkles smoothed out, jaw relaxed. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His eyes darted across your face, noting the unshed tears on your waterline, dangerously close to spilling. With a quiet sigh, he reached up and rested his palm on your face, thumb stroking the soft skin underneath your eye.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“If you don’t want me to fuck anyone else, I won’t,” you said, voice wobbling. “I’m plenty satisfied with you, I shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”
“Okay,” is all he said. “It’s okay, sunshine.” The familiar nickname made your chest ache.
“Joel,” you whispered his name, gazing forlornly at him. “You’re my best friend, you know that right?”
Joel stared, silently absorbing your words. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you shut your eyes, leaning into him.
“Stay for a while,” he whispered against your skin. “Don’t want you to go yet.”
The words he spoke earlier rang through your mind. I’ve never once asked you for anything. Not for anything other than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more.
“Okay,” you nodded, laying an arm over his side. “Just for a little while.”
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final part
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dateko · 9 months
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˚。⋆ [3:27 AM] GETO SUGURU
a/n: just stupid fluff and the only thing i can write (bitches in a bed). me breaking my long silence and hiatus just to post a suguru drabble... he deserves happiness, too.... this is truly my jujutsu kaisen... pls enjoy!
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Suguru breaks the silence of the late night’s pitch-black embrace. Listening to his breathing with your limbs tangled together comfortably beneath the covers, you thought he’d been asleep by now. But it seems he has many things on his mind.
“Can I ask you something?” He speaks, voice low yet so incredibly soft. 
You shuffle in bed before you respond, playing with the large calloused hands locked securely around your stomach. Suguru has always been clingy with you. Just only behind closed doors, away from the rest of the world. He’s always wanted you to himself, in places where only the two of you know. 
“Babe, I’ve said it before and I’ll definitely say it again. Yes, you should go and get that tattoo. It’d look really good.” You mumble sleepily, trying to fight the drowsiness in your voice.
Behind you, you can feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, and his strong hands wander down to your hips, turning you around to face him with overfamiliar ease. The face before you is beautiful and captivating. Even in the dark, where the only source of light is the still moonlight that seeps through the curtains, your breath hitches at the sight of his golden, golden eyes. Suguru’s hair is down and slightly damp, his dark locks framing his face in a way that makes you want to bite his nose off. You could never tire of a face like this. And you were lucky to have it all to yourself.
“Not what I meant, but noted.” Your lover smiles.
Hard to resist, you reach up to tuck a dark strand behind his ear and to this does he melt. You exhale at the feeling of his warm cheek resting into your palm like he was molding himself into you. 
“Then what?” A thumb brushes across the expanse of his cheek as you whisper back.
Suguru sighs before speaking again. “Do you love me?”
This time, you really do pinch his cheek and threaten to bite his nose off as you roll your eyes and return to your original sleeping position. You don’t need to turn around to see him with a slight pout on his lips, brows furrowed just a bit. 
“Don’t ask me dumb questions you already know the answer to, Sugu,” You bring your hand back to pull his arm back around your waist. “Of course I do.”
“I want to hear you say it.” 
“Let’s go back to sleep.”
You should know better than to think that Suguru would stop there. The bed dips slightly before you feel your wrists being pinned above your head and your lover moves his knee over your body so he can loom over your smaller figure, a saccharine and deliciously sweet smirk on his plush lips. The tips of his hair strokes your face, which causes you to scrunch your nose with a smile. You knew what you were in for immediately, but it was quite honestly way too late to be even reasonably horny. All you can do is huff and pout up at the man you love so ridiculously much. 
“Say that you love me.” He tries again.
“Sugu…” You whine as you make a small attempt to free yourself from his hold, knowing well you could never beat his strength. It was all for show and you’ve decided there was no longer any point in trying to sleep tonight.
“Come on…” He pouts, loosening his grip around your wrist to lace his fingers with yours instead.
Your careful eyes watch as he lowers his handsome face to yours, lips only mere centimeters away from yours. Suguru raises a brow at how you stare at his lips with a hungry look before your eyes meet him again, begging. Thinking he would finally give in to your silent pleas to kiss you, your other half dips his nose into the crook of your neck instead. To this, your body deflates and you sigh at the feeling of his skin on yours, that nose you adore so much brushing along the soft expanse of your neck while leaving a trail of feathery kisses. 
Suguru places a playful bite on your shoulder before pulling up to look at you once more. “Do you love me?”
You bring his lips back down to yours, to which he happily reciprocates with a smile. Pulling apart, you look at him and really look at him. Making sure he possessed every feature you have memorized for years and looking up at the eyes that only seemed to sparkle when looking at you. Finally, you smile.
“I love you Geto Suguru. I love you so much,” You pinch his cheek for good measure. “And don’t forget it this time.”
“Now that wasn’t too hard, was it?” He smiles before reaching under your (his) shirt to squeeze at your side. “I love you, too.”
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armysantiny · 10 days
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-[Xavier; soft bf headcanon
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P: Xavier x gender-neutral reader | G: fluff, headcanon | Inc: canon-compliant, nap times with Xav, Xav being a supportive office bf lmao| Wc: 456 | W: some under the shirt touching but nothing much| R: PG-13
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Usually, I start off these headcanons with how I think the pre-relationship bond formed
But the game does already that for me, so thank God for that
I will say, the moment he became your boyfriend, Xavier has this cute ass smile sorta just etched onto his face for the next 24 hours
He’s so unbelievably happy he gets to have a romantic relationship with you in this timeline
All that backtracking was worth it because you can both be together
He adds a cute heart emoji to your contact name (which is already a nickname <33) and makes his profile picture a selfie of both of you
Suddenly his camera roll starts filling up with candid pictures of you
Not mentioning all the times you nick Xavier’s phone to take snaps of him sleeping to tease him with later
He gives you a copy of his apartment key and a little galaxy keychain
“So you can come in whenever you want”
Doesn’t tell you that he hopes you’ll be over all the time, if not just move in permanently
He’s given you full jurisdiction of his kitchen
By which I mean you have forbidden him from making anything that requires extensive use of cooking equipment
For all his cooking ‘skills’, Xavier has a concerning track record of blowing shit up in his kitchen
That aside, you do get pulled into nap times with him pretty frequently, whether you’re also sleepy or not
Xavier likes having you in his arms <33 helps him sleep better or so he says
His favourite place to wrap his arms around is your waist
Just holding you close while he powers down for a few hours
Not to mention how he likes slipping hands under your shirt every now and then <3
Sure, he’s getting his much-desired sleep, but teasing you is definitely on the table, and all in good fun
Especially when the way your breath hitches echoes in his ear~
Boosts his ego just a little, but shh~
Moving on!
Xavier isn’t one to broadcast your relationship to everyone in your office, but he’s definitely not going to hide it
Why should he?
He brings coffee and snacks to your desk when you’re filling out reports and paperwork, patting your back with a good job midnight before returning to his own desk
Gentle fleeting touches when you’re battling Wanderers together
The occasional hand kiss when you’re walking home
Xavier is very adamant on you not overworking yourself
So, he may or may not have convinced Captain Jenna a few times to hand him some of your missions when he sees you looking under the weather
Can’t be Linkon’s best hunter if you’re burning yourself out, now can you?
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© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!
Taglist: @kyuzuberri | Taglist Form
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cooliestghouliest · 4 months
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THE MIDDLE BEDROOM
PAIRING: established Billy/Reader relationship, bff!Eddie is a Peeping Tom
TAGS and C/W’s: this is basically just smut (which means 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), pining undertones, oral (f!receiving), Billy's filthy mouth, SPIT, Eddie's a pervert but Billy's kinda setting him up so really Eddie is just advantageous, m!masturbation, unprotected PiV
WORD COUNT: 3.4k+
A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. basically, i’m trying to revamp everything i’ve published in hopes that an inspiration bug crawls deep, deep inside me and just fucking explodes, leaving only creativity and motivation to replace all of my blood and oxygen. it’s almost 2024, who needs to bleed and breathe anyway??? please remember that likes are greatly appreciated, but comments and reblogs are what make the writer’s world go round. :-) <33
It happened at Rick Lipton's annual Halloween party. '86, baby.
There were many nameless faces wandering about the bungalow, all in varying states of sobriety. Eddie only recognized a handful of people, one of them being Billy Hargrove... and the other being you, Eddie's best friend, but also Hargrove's drop-dead, knock-the-fuck-out gorgeous girlfriend.
Eddie had overheard someone guess that you were dressed as a witch. Someone else guessed that you were dressed as Stevie Nicks. With a shrug, you'd answered, "Those are the same thing," like it was the most obvious certainty in the entire world.
You were in a sheer black off-the-shoulder maxi dress, the form-fitting fabric tight in all the right places. There was a long, gracious slit down the side that ran from hip to foot. When you moved in a certain way, Eddie could see that you were wearing black suede thigh-high boots, a little kitten heel clicking against the hardwood floors as you walked.
Right up to him.
"Hi, Eddie," you'd greeted with a smile, eyes wide and welcoming. You swirled the train of your dress a bit, swaying along to some Joni Mitchell song playing in the background. "Happy Halloween."
Eddie didn't get the chance to answer, though he was sure he'd have ended up stumbling over his words anyway, because you just looked so pretty tonight. He was only able to return the smile before Billy appeared beside you.
"Hey, man," Hargrove prompted, Eddie watching as the honey blonde rested lucky fingers on the small of your back. The other palm extended to clap Eddie on the shoulder a few times. "You bring it?"
"Yeah, it's just... uh..." Eddie dug his hand around in the front pockets of his jeans, then in the back pockets of his jeans, then eventually found what he was looking for in the pocket of his denim jacket, bypassing a broken button to reach for the little baggie in question.
As he was about to pull it out, Billy’s hand gripped his forearm, halting him. "Not here," Hargrove instructed. He stepped an inch closer to Eddie, voice lowering to just above a whisper. Eddie had to dip his head forward to try and hear the blonde over the music and commotion around them. "Come upstairs. Like fifteen minutes. Middle bedroom." At Eddie's confused expression (they were at a Halloween party thrown by Hawkins' most profitable drug dealer, for fuck's sake -- who the hell would care about a little coke?), Billy fashioned him a grin, stepping back. "Don't need everybody knowing my business and shit, ya know?"
Eddie guessed that was a decent enough explanation, so he shrugged the absurdity off. He'd always thought Billy was a little weird, anyway. And coming from Eddie Munson, the biggest fucking weirdo of all, that characterization spoke volumes.
After that, you and Billy disappeared. Eddie had followed the tail-end of your dress until you were lost in a sea of strangers, then decided to try and push the rest of the weed he had onto other partygoers, wanting to leave tonight with his current debt to Rick paid and his lunch box full of fresh goodies for the new month ahead.
It was exactly fifteen minutes later that Eddie began his ascent of the stairs to Rick's second floor. He weaved in and out of groping couples, stepped over sleeping Lettermen, and gave a tight-lipped smile to a group of girls that stumbled out of the bathroom and slammed right into him. He stepped to the side, giving them the right of way, before crossing the hallway to his destination: the middle bedroom.
The door was shut, so Eddie knocked. Waited a few seconds, then knocked again.
Still with no answer, he took a large step back, surveying the other doors around him to verify he hadn't gotten turned around and was in fact standing in front of the right room, which he was.
Eddie huffed a sigh. He glanced around the hallway again, checking to see if maybe Hargrove was just running late, but there was no blonde mullet in sight.
Figuring Billy must have been inside and was just... busy or something (actively ignoring him? suddenly gone deaf?), Eddie brought his hand to the knob to twist it and enter.
The room was mostly dark. Not exactly pitch black, thanks to a streetlight seen through the big bay window, but still dark enough that Eddie needed to blink rapidly several times to adjust his eyes to the new lighting.
His immediate thought was that Billy must have either forgotten to meet him up here or had ditched the party entirely and left the dealer packing with a now homeless dimebag of blow.
Off to the right, however, was a thick slab of pale-yellow light emanating from a partially closed door. It was the bathroom, which Eddie knew from sleeping in this very bedroom more than a handful of times since first meeting Rick Lipton a few years back.
And that’s when Eddie started to hear it.
Or, as he would soon come to find out, hear you.
He had at first mistaken the quick, soft breaths of air for sounds of pain or distress, which was why he'd begun inching towards the bathroom in the first place.
But now, standing in the shadow of the ajar door, he was able to peek inside. At the sight before him, Eddie felt his eyes widen, and a prickling warmth started to spread throughout his body.
Those were definitely not sounds of pain or distress.
Billy sat kneeled in front of where you were currently spread out on the bathroom counter. Your knees were hiked up towards your chest, your dress laying in a heap on the ground, and you were left only in a bright red bra. And those goddamn suede thigh-highs.
He should have walked away right then, he knew that. He was going to, really, but then you arched your back, your head falling lax behind you, and the fucking obscene moan you let out had Eddie biting down so hard on his bottom lip that he tasted blood.
How was he supposed to leave now?
He couldn't help himself.
You were just... you.
Thoughtful, generous, creative. You went out of your way to ensure no one ever felt judged or left out; you were known to drop everything without debate in order to help anyone who really needed it; you let him host Hellfire in your basement when the club needed a new location in a pinch, and even helped him plot twists in his campaigns.
Truly, Eddie had a very hard time seeing what you saw in that prick Billy Hargrove, but that was something to ponder at a later point. Because right now, Eddie was getting to see you in a position he'd only ever dreamed of seeing you in.
When would he ever get this chance again?
Eddie refused to think too deeply into this, deciding to pretend he didn't have a moral compass for a bit. It was probably bad. Likely even made him a pervert, but he'd been called much worse, so he figured he'd just add this one to the list now, too.
He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to be able to face either one of you again, but his feet just weren't working when his brain tried to tell them to move, and now his cock was starting to fill out the confines of his jeans in a way that had him seeking the relief of the doorframe, his hips acting of their own accord, finding a slow, rocking rhythm.
Billy had his palms splayed out on either side of your inner thighs, holding your legs open. Eddie quickly grew irritated that he couldn't see exactly what the blonde's tongue was doing. He thought that if he couldn't be the one with his own face buried against you, he wanted to at least have an unobstructed, close-up view.
He wanted to see Hargrove's lips wet with your slick, wanted to watch them wrap around your aching clit and suck until you tried to push him away. If Eddie could, he'd hold your arms down while Billy devoured you, wanting you to feel so much pleasure it was borderline painful.
He was pulled out of his fantasy by the sound of Billy's voice, raspy and teasing. "Love when you give me this sloppy fucking cunt," he said, the words themselves demeaning but his tone singing nothing but praises. Billy lowered his head back down, giving you a few long, loud licks.
Eddie knew he himself could be theatrical, but Billy Hargrove was dramatic in his own ways, and it did certainly seem like the blonde loved to hear the sound of his own voice. Apparently, eating pussy and its associated noises fell under this umbrella of Hargrove Histrionics.
Billy pulled his head back to spit several times on your well-loved cunt. Eddie didn't dare to blink as the other man brought two fingers to spread your lips and spit again, this time with your hardened nub as target. Both him and Billy watched intently as the saliva dripped slowly down your slit, past your empty hole, and leaked off of you entirely to darken an already present wet spot on Hargrove's blue jeans.
And fuck, you loved it.
With each assault of Billy's spit, you let out faint little gasps (fucking cute, Eddie had thought), body jolting at the contact, your eyes fluttering open and shut as the moisture filled in every curve of your core.
"So fucking messy, aren't you?" Billy taunted, his free hand moving to palm at his clothed length. Eddie was relieved to see Hargrove finally begin to touch himself, honestly impressed at the self-control the blonde had to disregard his pleasure and focus solely on yours. "Makes it feel so good when I finally fuck this thick cock inside you," he continued, unzipping his jeans as he stood. "You think this pussy's ready to soak me?"
Eddie felt like his skin was boiling. He wished he could eliminate some layers. Or all layers, preferably.
You were staring earnestly up at your boyfriend, a desperate pout on your face as you nodded in vigor. "Please, Billy," you begged, and Eddie couldn't take it any longer. He needed to fist his cock raw, having had enough of this grinding against the wall bullshit.
At the same time Billy dropped his jeans, Eddie did the same, pulling himself out of his boxer briefs. He muffled a groan of relief by biting down on the knuckles of his free hand, his other wrapping around the girth of his dick and just squeezing. He didn’t want to give in before Billy had gotten inside you.
The blonde sure was taking his sweet fucking time though, only wetting his length by sliding himself repeatedly between your lips. You were whining, and Eddie could tell you were trying to angle your hips in such a way that it would trip Billy up and he would slip inside. Good girl, get that fucking cock, Eddie thought, impatient and eager to cum, but not wanting to do so without first catching a glimpse at what you looked like stuffed and fucked full.
"Hmm, I dunno," Billy provoked, tapping his cock against your cunt with loud slaps. "Feels really good just like this, baby. Maybe I'll use the outside to fuck myself instead, cum all over this pretty little pussy, make an even bigger mess. You want that?"
You and Eddie both shook your heads at the same time.
You gave a grumble of annoyance (more of like a testy whimper, really) and brought a hand up to slap playfully at Billy's chest. "Fuck me, Billy," you demanded, your voice throaty and yearning. You dropped the hand at his chest to circle his cock, wrapping delicate fingers around his own and helping to stroke. "Need it inside."
"Oh, you need it, greedy girl?" It appeared he was going to listen to you, much to yours and Eddie's respite, because he lined himself up against your hole with one hand, the other moving to wrap around the nape of your neck. "I didn't know that. I gotta give my girl what she needs then. Can't have anyone thinking I don't take care of you."
Finally -- finally -- Eddie watched as Billy took one thrust to bury his cock inside you completely, the blonde releasing a loud, lewd moan. Eddie gave his own throbbing, sweat-slick length the same treatment, fucking into his fist from tip to base until he felt his tightening balls press against his twitching fingers.
You looked better stretched open than Eddie could have ever imagined -- a natural flush glowed on your skin, your bottom lip tugged tight between your upper teeth, your brows furrowed deep.
Your eyes rolled back as Billy began to move, a satisfied moan escaping your lips at the pace he was setting. The sound, contented yet desperate, was music to Eddie's ears. He wanted to record it and hear it on loop -- as a wake-up call, an afternoon pick-me-up, a bedtime lullaby.
Your hands moved to rest on either side of the surface of the sink below you, supporting your weight as Billy rocked into you with long, languid thrusts. Eddie tried to match Hargrove's pace with the stroke of his hand, envisioning it was his own cock giving you exactly what you needed.
You must have felt fucking good to be buried deep inside of, because Billy, always with something to say, was awfully quiet now.
He watched the other man's face through the reflection in the mirror, saw as Billy's baby blues fervently took in the sight underneath him, knowing he himself would be donning the same expression if positions were switched. Eddie knew Hargrove was admiring your perfect tits bouncing with the force of each thrust, knew he was lost in the dissipated doe-eyes that stared back up at him like he hung the fucking moon, when in reality he was just feeding your cunt some very well-deserved cock.
When your mouth dropped open unprompted, your pink tongue sticking out as far as it could go, that was the beginning of the end for Eddie. Both men knew exactly what you were asking for. Hargrove smirked approvingly at the sight before him, and he slowed the speed of his hips for better accuracy. He gathered as much saliva in his mouth as he could before leaning over you, parting his lips and letting gravity do its job.
Once your mouth was filled, Billy brought a hand to your jaw, forcing it shut. "Don't swallow," he instructed, his thrusts no longer slow and unhurried, but now posthaste and unrelenting.
Eddie could feel the familiar tingle in his lower abdomen, alerting him that his release was maybe a minute away. He fleetingly realized that he was going to have to very quickly clean his upcoming mess and get the hell out of the room before he was caught, but his attention was reeled back in when he heard a series of deep, breathless grunts.
"Okay, shit... spit it out now, baby," Billy was muttering, speech rushed, his head dipped to stare unwaveringly at where your bodies connected. "Oh fuck, spit on my fucking cock."
Eddie watched as you leaned yourself forward, angling your head down to release the spit you'd been holding in from your mouth, just adding to the noisy wetness between your legs.
And that did it. The visual — someone as soft and sweet as you doing something so filthy — had Eddie's toes curling in on themselves in his gym shoes, his hand pulsating around his cock to mimic a clenching cunt as he fucked himself into it. His release spilled out over his fist, dampening the ground below him and the bathroom doorframe. He saw stars.
Billy had followed Eddie right off the brink, muttering praises and obscenities interchangeably as you both came down from your highs. "Listen so well, dirty fucking girl. Always make me cum so hard, fuck, this pussy's so fucking full of me right now."
The sound of the quiet giggles urged out of you by Billy's tickling kisses on your neck were what brought Eddie back to the present reality. He wasn't back at home watching the hottest fucking porno he'd ever seen -- no, he was actually standing in a dimly lit bedroom, covered in his own cum, having just spied on his best friend while she got railed by her boyfriend.
Shit.
Eddie's moral compass came back with a vengeance. He cringed as he rubbed his sticky fingers on the inside of his band tee to clean them, not wanting anyone to catch a glimpse of crusty white as he made his getaway. He found a towel in a laundry basket and wiped away any remnants of his release from the wall and floor, then tossed it back into the hamper.
Not even able to glance back into the bathroom, his skin now heated from shame and embarrassment rather than arousal, Eddie buttoned up his jeans and hurried out of the room, ready to try and forget that all of that just happened.
About ten minutes later, he was perched against his van about a block from Rick's, where he'd parked. He was smoking a cigarette, having finally began to cool off and calm down. If he tried hard enough, he was sure he could convince himself this was all a really vivid hallucination, and maybe he'd be able to compartmentalize his moment of perversion that way.
He just needed to stay away from the two of you for a little while.
But then, because of course...
"Munson!"
Eddie quietly groaned, taking a deep drag off his cigarette to quell his already rapidly growing nerves from just the sound of the other man's voice alone. He turned to face Billy, plastering what he hoped was an easygoing grin on his face.
"Hey, man," Eddie greeted, his voice surprisingly steady.
Billy held his hands up in a 'What the fuck?' kind of way, brows furrowed. "Thought we had a plan," the blonde replied, stopping just a foot away from the tall metalhead. One side of Hargrove's mouth lifted. He looked predatory. Eddie fought back a hard swallow. "Did you even come upstairs?"
"What..." Eddie's brain went blank at the question. Or was it an accusation? It definitely sounded like one, but Billy didn't seem mad. The blonde was just staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.
"Y'know," Billy continued. "Because I told you to meet me in the middle bedroom? For the coke?" What had started as the slight of a smirk had turned into a full-blown grin on Hargrove's face. "You good, Munson? Lookin' a little spooked.”
To this, Eddie sobered his expression, shaking his head. "No, just like, busy night, that's all," Eddie answered lamely. Maybe Billy really didn't know. Maybe Eddie was just hyper-paranoid about having been caught that he was reading too deeply into this. After all, wouldn't Hargrove have been pissed to find out he'd been spying? Wouldn't he already have Eddie pinned against the van, spewing threats? "Lotsa deals. Kinda forgot about yours, my bad. Here, lemme get it..."
Eddie began digging around in his pockets, having forgotten again where the coke was. He blamed the alarms of anxiety going off in his brain (thoughts like fuck, he probably knows, which means she knows, and now she's gonna fucking hate me plaguing him).
But Billy said, "Don't worry about it, I'm good. Got my energy hit a little bit ago." The blonde then looked like he had remembered something, and began looking in his own pockets, "Shit, actually. Ya know what? I have something for you."
Eddie was sure the look of confusion on his face was readable. This whole night was turning out to be a fucking fever dream. He didn't think anything else could happen to make it any more surreal.
And then Billy was reaching his hand out to give Eddie something, that I-know-something-you-don't smirk present again, and Eddie took it without looking. He just wanted Billy to walk away so he could go crawl into the back of his van and smoke himself stupid to avoid any and all realizations and repercussions.
"See you ‘round," were Billy's parting words and Eddie just nodded dumbly, mute, and watched him go.
Once Hargrove was out of sight, Eddie opened his hand. At first, it just looked like an unassuming wad of fabric, maybe a sock or something, small compared to the size of his palm.
Eddie unraveled it, holding it out in front of him, and then very quickly tossed it inside his open passenger window, eyes darting around to make sure no one had seen what Billy Hargrove had just given him —
The matching pair of panties to your bright red bra.
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lettersofgold · 4 months
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4 with Jude Bellingham, please!
-> legacy | jude bellingham
visuals
jude thought playing in front of thousands was nerve-wracking, but somehow, this award presentation was a bit worse. it was all amplified by the cameras being close and photographers yelling at him from all angles. he had accepted his golden boy and absolute golden boy award and taken a few photos before returning to his seat with his parents. the commotion of the evening was winding down, and he was anxiously awaiting the meal that would come at the post-ceremony dinner - he had talked so much and shaken so many hands it was becoming a blur all after traveling from spain in the middle of the week. the little boys in the back doing his celebration was cemented in his heart unlike anything else. it kept his spirits high in his sleepy state. his mom mentioned there were two more awards and the show would finally be over. the announcement came through the air as you walked onto the stage with a heart-stopping smile and a card in hand.
“oh she’s beautiful.” denise commented softly.
“wow, i’m so thankful for the opportunity to be here with the greatest this sport has seen. it’s an honor to present this award on behalf of my uncle’s legacy,” you began. jude went from half awake to wide awake, looking at you on stage in your gorgeous blue gown. “this legacy award highlights the people in football who have unbelievably impacted the world.” you scanned the audience with shimmering eyes before continuing. “this year, the board of directors could not find a better person to hold this award,” you opened the envelope and laughed lightly, “the one and only, our golden boy jude bellingham.”
something about your sugary sweet voice saying “our golden boy” made jude’s cheeks warm and his body hotter. he was so nervous to stand next to you that he barely looked up from the floor as he walked up the stage. you took the trophy from the stand and offered it to him. it was much heavier than you anticipated, and your hand bobbled, but jude quickly grabbed your hands in his to hold it steady. you laughed nervously and started apologizing profusely, which he immediately rushed to let you know he had it secure in his hands. his hands didn’t leave yours, and you made no effort to pull away as the two shared nervous laughter while fumbling over your words. the laughing of the crowd brought jude back down to earth, and took the trophy delicately before turning to the microphone to give a short speech. you cheeks were warm with embarrassment and you stepped aside to let jude shine once more tonight.
“uh, hi, it’s me again.” jude chuckled. he heard you laugh beside him, and he tried to keep his composure. “thank you,” he turned to look at you, and you nodded gingerly, “and thank you to the board who voted for me. again, i couldn’t do this without the support and my family - i’m honored to be able to keep your uncles legacy alive.” the two of you walked backstage, and you were swept away by a show assistant who mentioned “media” and “photo obligations.” jude felt a bit disappointed that he couldn’t stop to talk to you, but as if you could hear his thoughts, you turned around and yelled softly, “see you at the dinner, yeah?”
photos and photos and more photos. jude was thankful it was over - he would have to say no to the next person asking for a picture. he could see your blue gown floating around the luxurious ballroom, from person to person. you hadn’t stopped moving yet. his mom told him you were pretty famous in your own right: you just secured a role as a disney princess. his mind wandered to how he could start a conversation with you, but each idea fell short. his dad nudged him with a mischievous smile. “just go up to her.” he teased. “it’s a bit weird, d’know what i mean?” jude explained. “there’s nothing weird about it. say thank you, ask about her uncle, hell ask for her name, just ask something.” jude frowned at his dad's comments as if it were oh-so-easy to walk up to a girl as radiant as you.
10 minutes passed. then 20 minutes. it was nearly 45 minutes when you finally circled back to jude. he was in a deep conversation that it slipped his mind that he wanted to speak with you - people had bombarded him with compliments and discussions. “jude!” you whispered a few conversations over with a wave of your hand. you pointed towards your phone and the photographers. more photos, no. but a moment with you, yes. he excused himself from the conversation, which his mom expertly took over, and his dad winked.
“they want a few more photos,” you said. you could’ve asked jude to follow you out the door, and he probably would have - he was enamored with you. jude took the trophy from an assistant who extended it out to him. he held it with both hands but was promptly scolded by a photographer - “no, both of you hold it.” jude shuffled closer to you, and you placed your hand on the other side of the award. “can you get closer, no no, even closer please.” the photographer barked again. you laughed softly and commented, “geez,” through your smile. jude snaked his arm around your waist, and your hip found his side, and in return, you wrapped your arm around him, your head tilted inwards. you were so close jude couldn’t hide his smile - it was broad and goofy. the flash of lights was arresting and almost blinding. no matter how many times he stood in front of photographers, it never got easier. as quickly as you were there, you were pulling away. the assistant whisked the award out of his hand, and you had turned away once more before he mustered up the courage to say anything.
jude was on his way to leave when you called out to him. “wait. come here, it’ll be quick.” you grabbed the award and your phone - forcing the trophy into his hands quickly. “it’s my bereal.” jude threw up a peace sign as you snapped a photo, then you turned into him, your head resting on his chest as you snapped a selfie from outstretch arms. it was the most unserious photo he had taken all night - it was his favorite.
“that’s the one for sure.” you gushed as you showed him the photo. “absolutely. it’s all you.” jude said. “oh no that’s all you, golden boy.” you two talked for a moment. mainly you, but jude was more than happy to listen. you said your goodbyes soon after, and jude found his parents.
“wasn’t that bad was it?” his dad teased.
as he waited for his flight to take off, jude wondered if he should slide into your dms but opted against it. he opened twitter and scrolled through his feed before tapping on his notifications. the same tweet was retweeted and it made him curious.
it was a photo of the two of you holding hands on stage in the middle of laughing, then another of you leaning into each other at the dinner, and finally, you taking a photo of him at the ceremony. people were eating it up, commenting left and right about how cute you were.
user1 he’s winning on and off the pitch.
user2 i see what he’s doing he’s cooking
user3 oh he’s in love with her he’s just like me fr
user4 jude if you see this just know i’ll fight you over her.
user5 gonna tell my kids this is posh and becks
jude opened instagram to see if the chaos was just as large. he went straight to your page and hit follow when he got a notification that you followed him back. it made his heart skip a beat.
yn.jpg tagged you in a post
captioned: what a night celebrating my uncle, the love never stops. my heart is happy (even though i nearly dropped the trophy!!) here’s to the legacy ❣️
jude laughed inwardly as he scrolled through photos of you on the red carpet, one of you on stage, the next of you two holding hands and laughing, and finally the bereal the two of you had taken. jude typed and untyped a comment before he finally settled on one and pushed send. he knew it would be everywhere but he wanted to know if you were as interested in him as he was in you.
judebellingham it’s not every night i get to meet a princess and get to honor the legacy of your uncle xx
-> yn.jpg responded not every night i get to meet a golden boy. seems like dreams are coming true.
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theinnerunderrain · 4 months
Text
Desires [Yan!Wishing Star x Fem!Reader]
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Warnings: Yandere themes, description of abuse and reader being in pain (burning), fear, slight description of body parts, implied murder. can you believe the inspiration for this is the star from that Disney movie wish...
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"It's not fair."
The entity standing in front of you,murmured gently, his hand clenching tightly as his eyes grew stern, echoing the firmness in his tone. In the velvety expanse where night unfolds its cosmic tapestry, a solitary wanderer emerges — the wishing star. A fleeting celestial voyager, trailing stardust whispers across the ink-black canvas, igniting the dreams of earthly dreamers. The celestial glow of the moonlit sky tenderly embraced his form, casting a delicate shimmer upon his blond locks, revealing a subtle stain on his pristine white blouse, obscured yet perceptible in the soft illumination.
"I've heard of your heart's desire," The wishing star advanced toward you with measured grace, coaxing a subtle retreat from your stance as you hesitantly took a step backward.
"I worked so hard to grant your wishes."
He persisted, the palpable frustration resonating through his typically captivating voice. Bathed in the gentle moonlight, it cast an ethereal glow upon his figure. Drawing nearer, the blemishes on his shirt became increasingly conspicuous—a flickering, profound crimson, accompanied by a faint metallic scent that stirred a disquieting nausea within you.
A startled yelp slips from your lips as you inadvertently tumble over an unseen obstacle, causing you to descend onto a patch of grass with your back pressed against the earth's surface. Your hand makes unexpected contact with something wet and warm. The unmistakable scent of metal permeates the air, urging you to swiftly withdraw your hand from the liquid. It's only then that you come to the chilling realization within the darkness—it's a limb, specifically a recently severed hand, its surface glistening with fresh blood.
Your gaze turns back to the wishing star, now standing just a few feet in front of you. His shadow looms over, imparting an ominous presence, and he appears almost like a fading star, deprived of life and passion, slowly dimming in the celestial tapestry. Trembling with fear, you parted your lips to voice a protest, but no sound emerged, leaving the unspoken plea hanging in the tense air.
As the wishing star resumed speaking, its tone softened considerably, a gentle cadence imbuing its voice, which seemed to be nearly carried away by the night's gentle breeze.
"I've done so much for you, for you weak humans. Yet, I've received nothing in return."
Descending onto one knee, he crouched down, his pristine white pants marred by the hues of blood and dirt. Remarkably unfazed, he wore the stains with an air of indifference.
"Tell me, [First Name]. Do you think it's fair?"
You take a moment to contemplate his question, striving to formulate the optimal response that would genuinely satisfy him. However, the awareness lingers that he possesses a keen perception, able to discern any falsehood, as if he has the ability to see through every nuance.
"It's not fair," you stammer, your words echoing through the stillness of the night. The wishing star tilts his head slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.
A twisted smile creeps across his lips, and the moonlight casts an eerie gleam in his eyes. "Good answer, my dear [First Name]."
"You're right, it's not fair."
He lingered in a brief pause, his eyes gently closing, as if grappling with thoughts, a silent struggle to restrain any inclination to cause harm.
"So tell me, [First Name]. Do you think I deserve to be compensated for my hard work? Will you be the one to grant my wish?"
His words crashed into you like an oncoming train, resonating through the corridors of your mind as you grapple to unravel their meaning. After a moment of contemplation, you nod hesitantly, yearning for nothing more than the swift conclusion of this situation, eager to retreat to the village with a mind cleansed of the perplexing events of the night.
"Good."
His smile, a deceptive play of pink lips stretched into a wide grin, sent a chill down your spine. Despite its apparent warmth, his eyes held an icy indifference, a contradiction that left an unsettling echo in the air. It was as if his smile danced to a different melody, a tune that aimed to soothe while his gaze remained aloof, weaving a complex tapestry of emotions that begged unraveling. With an unexpected flourish, he delicately pressed a single finger to your forehead. A radiant, golden light emanated from his fingertips, enveloping you in a warmth that seemed to transcend the ordinary. In that moment, an enchanting weight settled upon you, as if the universe itself conspired to make your very essence denser beneath the gentle caress of his touch.
"W...wait..Callisto! What are you—"
As you mustered the courage to protest, his other hand extended, gently caressing your cheek with a touch that felt oddly comforting, as though it were a final offer of solace. The ambient light intensified, casting a surreal brilliance upon the surroundings, rendering the world too bright and eerily silent. Despite the fear coursing through you, there lingered an inexplicable sense of comfort emanating from both the radiant light and the tender graze of his touch. It was a paradoxical dance between apprehension and an oddly soothing presence that left you trapped in a disconcerting embrace of emotions.
In an instant, the beam of light against your forehead erupted, creating a deafening, bell-like resonance that reverberated for meters around. Your body, caught in the chaotic symphony, felt ablaze—no, it was as if fire had ignited everywhere. Desperation urged you to shift away, the searing sensation intensifying, yet his relentless grip forced you down onto the patch of grass. His two hands, like oppressive flames, pressed against you, melding your anguish with the burning world around you.
"No..!"
A piercing scream escapes your lips, the pitch climbing higher as you desperately attempt to roll and extinguish the flames enveloping you. Yet, the ethereal grip of Callisto pins you in place, rendering your frantic movements futile. Frozen in terror, the dance between your desperate cries and the consuming fire unfolds in a macabre symphony orchestrated by the relentless wishing star.
"I'm really sorry, [First Name]. It's going to feel painful at first, but once you wake up again. Everything will be for the better."
Callisto's voice, a haunting melody, softly echoed against the backdrop of your agonizing pleas. As you begged for relief from the erupting fire consuming your very flesh, his gentle tone contrasted with the visceral symphony of pain. With a tenderness that belied the horrors unfolding, his hand reached out, delicately caressing the side of your face, as if soothing the flames that danced upon your skin.
In the twilight of consciousness, as the world dissolved into an inky void and the torment on your body gradually subsided, you felt the celestial presence of the wishing star. One final utterance emerged from the cosmic depths, a whisper that cut through the fading echoes of your suffering, leaving an unsettling imprint on the precipice of darkness.
"As you awaken from your slumber, a transformation awaits you—a rebirth akin to a celestial metamorphosis. You shall emerge not just awakened but as a newfound star, destined to shine eternally in resplendent brilliance, a beacon of enduring beauty that transcends the mere confines of night."
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opultea · 10 months
Text
Where’s My Kiss? - 2
Genshin men see you kiss something, and can’t help but want one for themselves… ft. Gorou, Wanderer
GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Romantic - Drabbles - Fluff, Angst w/ fluff ending (Wanderer) - SFW (very slightly suggestive at the end of Gorou's)
Word Count: 1.6k
Part 1 - ft. Dottore, Zhongli
Guest Staring - Tawara! Camp dog of the Watastumi Resistance. (Featured in the 2023 birthday art for Gorou, check it out if you haven't seen it!)
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Gorou
The finality of the hard won end to the Vision Hunt Decree was an event celebrated by all of Inazuma, most of all the resistance of Watatsumi. Although despite the relief and happiness that the peace brought, there was also the struggle of readjustment. It was not easy coming down from the high tensions of war, and the army still had soldiers in excess. Many now contributed to the last relief efforts for struggling communities, and as reconnaissance units. This was the very task you and a very special operations officer were undertaking at present.
Tawara scouted ahead as you secured the empty battlefield. Many war torn plains were left with lasting remains of equipment and resources, of which you and your trusty camp dog were tasked with retrieving. Her Excellency wished to put the war in the past, and to move forward, there couldn’t be such reminders of the horrors endured during the time.
“Tawara! Where are you boy?” You called, hoping the sweet shiba hadn’t gone too far. A yip in the distance helped your eyes find the pup stood atop a small hill where the enemy camp would have been.
This particular battlefront had little left of the war, only a few broken weapons and cracked armour plates that weren’t considered worth salvaging when the camp was first emptied. You took stock of how much still lay in the field so you could get an accurate gauge of how many soldiers it would take to clean it up for good.
Tawara zipped down the hill and over to you, pressing his paw to your shin to gain your attention. Looking down, you smiled at the pup and the dendrobium he held in his mouth.
“For me?” Tawara carefully dropped the bloom at your feet and barked cheerfully, sitting and awaiting your reaction expectantly. “Aw, aren’t you just the sweetest,”
You knelt down and cooed at the camp dog’s cuteness, squishing his fluffy cheeks in your hands, causing Tawara’s tail to wag wildly behind him.
Plucking the dendrobium off the ground, you inspected the deep red bloom before your gaze drifted across the still-dead grass of the field. New shoots of green could be seen dotting the dry dirt, but there was no mistaking the ground flattened by the feet of soldiers. Perhaps Her Excellency would approve planting some dendrobiums in the field to restore and improve the area.
“You’re a true genius Tawara,” you smiled, smoothing the fur on his head with a well-deserved pat. You went a step further with your affections, clasping Tawara's face in your hands again to press a gentle kiss on his left and then his right ear, before landing one on his snout. You laughed as the pup licked your cheek in return.
Little did you know that another loving pupper was watching the whole affair with unidentified jealousy and a fluttering heart.
Gorou had been notified of your mission long before you set out to complete it, being the general. Although he admittedly preferred when the actions assigned to you could be carried out alongside him, or at least within the campgrounds. Being apart was never easy, even when he knew you would return eventually.
Today Gorou had been lucky enough to finish his reports early and decided that his free time may as well have been used to help you with your mission. He had no doubt in your abilities, but Gorou tended to miss you quickly, so you often received a helping hand from the doggy general even when you didn't need one.
Rounding the hill close to the old front, Gorou felt a streak of unease being back in a place where he had fought so viscously, but it was all washed away as soon as he saw you. His tail began to sway as he approached, watching you smile and interact with Tawara. Then he saw it.
Gorou’s left and then right ear twitched in unison with your kisses, his mouth agape and face flushed. You had never kissed his ears before. The general's ears continued to twitch as he imagined your lips touching them, the images in his mind sending another round of fluttering to his heart.
As Gorou stood frozen and red hot at the edge of the field, Tawara eventually noticed him, barking in recognition and bounding over to greet his superior officer. You followed closely behind, equally happy to find that your boyfriend had come to see you.
"Gorou! Done with your work already?" He didn't hear your question until he shook himself from his stupor. "You okay honey? You're all red,"
"Y-yes!" The confusion on your face caused Gorou's pause, his body fidgeting and eyes trying to latch onto something that could ground his thoughts. "I just, umm... do you think I could... no, never mind."
"Gorou," you gently took his cheek in your hand, placing the other on his chest. "We've talked about this; you know I'll never judge you for anything,"
Ears coming to lay on his head Gorou nodded, still blushing wildly as he finally found the courage to make his request.
"Could you... kiss my ears?"
You cooed quietly, heart overflowing with love for your sweet partner but trying not to embarrass him further. Taking his hands in your own, you kiss Gorou's ears twice each, trying not to giggle at the way they twitched each time.
As you brought yourself away, Gorou whimpered faintly, likely not on purpose.
"Come on, let's head back to camp. I have a report to give for this reconnaissance mission, and you have more kisses to gain, perhaps somewhere more private?"
You smiled demurely as Gorou blushed, swiftly nodding his head and following you and Tawara back to the camp with anticipation.
Wanderer
Now renowned scholar ‘Hat Guy’ was currently in class, despite his vehement protests towards attending formal lectures, leaving you alone in the home to tidy up the shared space.
Lesser Lord Kusanali had seen your relationship bloom since the beginning, before even either of you had seen it. She was immensely pleased that the previously misanthropic puppet had grown to love another, and once informed of the official announcement of your relationship, she generously allowed the Wanderer to move from the Sanctuary Surasthana to a home of her choosing close by. It was a quaint and quiet home, but both of you cherished the space. It was a place you could just be together, and need nothing more. Because of this, you took great pride in making sure the home remained a place of respite, and so liked to keep it tidy.
Deciding to start with the laundry, you gathered a basket and went to the bedroom to gather anything in need of washing. Humming a little to yourself, you plucked the pillows off the bed, thinking of washing the cases, when a little thud on the ground came as you lifted your partners pillow.
Curious, you knelt to inspect the thing that had fallen. What was he hiding in his pillow? Kuni certainly wasn’t the type to believe in improving his sleep by hiding trinkets under his head. However, what you discovered made you gasp. On the floor lay the tiny cotton doll resembling Kunikuzushi, its beaded eyes reflecting its obvious displeasure with having taken such a fall.
Tenderly, you took the doll in your hand and stroked its head as you would with Kunikuzushi. Why was it here? You had only ever seen the doll once or twice when Kunikuzushi had readjusted his sleeves or changed shirts, but you knew that he always carried the cotton companion with him. Running your hand gently across the doll, you felt a snag on its back. Turning it over revealed a tear in the seam, a puff of cotton poking out its spine.
“Oh, poor thing,” you muttered, rising slowly while you cradled the doll like a babe. “Let’s get you patched up.”
Collecting a sewing kit from the drawer and sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, you let the doll rest on your lap as you prepared. Gently, as if it could feel your stitching, you mended the fabric. You smiled as you steadily sewed. It made you happy to think you could help Kuni this way, even if he had tried to hide the issue under his pillow.
Kuni has always been private, even with your long-standing relationship it wasn’t easy for him to show such vulnerability. But this doll was his vulnerability, a piece of him he showed almost no one. It was fulfilling to aid it.
Pulling the thread tight, you tied it off and admired your handy work, turning the doll over to greet it again,
“There, all better.” You landed a tender kiss on the top of its head, sealing all your love and care into its plush fabric.
A small choke brought your head up, allowing you to see your partner standing in the doorway, a rare kind of apprehension etched upon him. Your eyes caught each others, astir in stagnant bodies. Kunikuzushi's hand trembled on the doorframe, mouth open as if trying to form words he didn't know.
Through the silence, you lifted a slow hand, extended and opened with a hopeful invitation. The puppet approached, taking your hand and the seat beside you. No words were spoken as you gently lowered his head into your lap, letting his body lie across the bed and his arms wrap around the mended doll. As tears began to shake from Kunikuzushi’s face, you leaned down to press kisses to his head, caressing his hair and allowing him to finally feel the pain and vulnerability that had always ached in the space where his heart should have been.
"Thank you, for daring to love all of me," The shaking whisper stirred the greatest sense of care in your heart.
"You have never deserved anything less,"
The response brought him to sit up, clasping his body around yours as he continued to wring tears into your shoulder.
Perhaps it was not often that Kunikuzushi showed his vulnerability, but you could never stand to mind. Not when these tender moments were so treasured. Besides, you knew well that you would take anything he gave you. You were ready to love it all.
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