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#which is nice! but i'm a little out of it haha)
autumnywinter · 2 days
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Your Yan!Elliott posts are endlessly fascinating to me. I propose an idea for you if you are up for it: Yan!Elliott finally has his prize all to himself, only to learn he's simply done the job for them. He's not the only obsessed one. He's not got his prize caged up. No no. He's caged with them. Wasn't it always rather odd that his target of infatuation quickly learned everything about him, his schedules, his interests, his favorite foods? Did he ever even notice? (Based a little on the fact that--let's be real--we players are the weird ones)
Omg thank you! :) And true, I would 100% be considered the creep if my farmer's behavior imitated my own irl behavior haha T_T
I made Reader a lot more smug than I normally do. I hope this is good!!
Yandere!Elliott x Reader
Tags/warnings: Suggestive, drugging, mentioned stalking, dubcon (kinda but not really), yandere x yandere, gender neutral reader
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Sometimes Elliott felt like he didn't even need to stalk you around the town. He'd walk out of his cabin, camera, binoculars, and caffeine gathered for a stakeout, only for you to be waiting outside with a smile on your face. That same smile that made him feel like he was soaring.
Not only that, but you knew just what he liked. Granted, he'd like anything if it were from you, but he had a whole year's supply worth of pomegranates and ink stocked up in his cabin.
He didn't even want to put either to use, treasuring each item you gave him like a rare gem. He did eventually crack and eat the pomegranates though. He was only human, after all!
There was no doubting it. You were perfect.
Each time he'd write lengthy letters to you, all from your "secret admirer", he'd watch your expressions. You always looked delighted to have received a letter. Though you never once attempted to find out who was sending you them. Elliott wondered if maybe you already knew, but never wanted to get his hopes up.
He made sure to describe how stunning you were in every letter he wrote. It was important for you to know how perfect you were. So perfect, that you didn't deserve to be around anyone else. No one would ever love you as much as Elliott did.
Despite the countless gifts he had received from you, despite you seeming to know his schedule down to a T, he was still determined he needed to win your affection over. All because he needed more.
He needed to hold you. He needed to taste you. He needed to marry you. He needed you.
"Hey, Elliott!"
The writer turned opened his door, delighted to see you. It was a rainy day, which was when he always stayed inside, save for stalking you at specific hours. You'd usually visit him on rainy days, and naturally he'd always be quick to invite you in. He knew you were likely coming over, which was why he already had a nice dinner prepared and everything.
"Come in, please," he said, holding the door open. You hurried inside and removed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the coat rack. Elliott headed straight for the kitchen, where he dished out the dinner he had prepared, along with the spiked wine.
He didn't have any awful intentions, of course! He just... wanted you to himself for a little longer than you normally stayed. That wasn't so wrong, was it? He wanted to savor this.
Besides, it wasn't like it was the first time he had done this.
"How are you?" he asked, sitting down at the table across from you. He waited eagerly for you to take a sip of the wine.
"I'm okay," you replied, giving him a smile that made his heart melt. "Just exhausted. I spent all day working."
He knew. He watched you.
"Then let me give you a nice relaxing time," he suggested, making sure to sound polite as he could. "Drink some more wine. Tell me all about your day." He didn't even realize his lovesick smile listening to you talk. He was excited for you to become sleepy and less aware of your surroundings. Then he could hold you and kiss you and you wouldn't even remember a thing the next morning.
It was honestly the only thing keeping him from going insane. He could be creepy as he wanted with you and you wouldn't even care. Although he'd use the term "romantic" instead.
After he nearly finished his own drink, he noticed his mind becoming hazy. He was a bit of a lightweight, he'd admit, but it took more than one glass to get him feeling like this. He tried to blink the dizziness from his own eyes, and could make out your eyes on him and a smirk on your face.
"Oh no, are you okay? You don't look so good," you feigned innocence. Even through his hazy state, Elliott could hear the smug grin in your voice.
"D-Did... did you...? Are you...?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence.
"Yep," you confirmed. "You've done it to me several times now, figured I'd return the favor. It's only fair, right?"
He should have been angry or upset about this, but he wasn't. Instead, his cheeks turned bright red as he stared at you in a dumbfounded awe. He didn't know what he was feeling right now, but it definitely wasn't anger. Arousal, anticipation, delight... maybe a mixture of all three.
"To be fair," you continued, "I never was really drugged. Just pretended to be, because I wanted to see what you would do." His breath hitched when you straddled his lap, holding his tie in your hand. "Just to see how far you'd take things."
"Y-You..." He never thought he'd see the day where his words failed him. But how was he supposed to speak when you were on his lap looking so delectable? He subconsciously licked his lips as he drank in every detail of your body. The way your chest rose and fell, your breaths as heavy as his, your eyes clouded with lust. He could only imagine how much of a fool he looked right now.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Your voice was soft, sweet. "Did you think I'd never find out?"
Elliott paused for a moment before chuckling. He rested his hands on your thighs and massaged them gently. "You know me too well, darling." He placed a gentle kiss to your throat. "How did you know?"
"How did I know you were spiking my drinks?" You giggled and kissed his ear. "Because you're not subtle at all." You licked a stripe down his neck, enjoying the shivers you felt from him. "And because I want you just as much as you want me."
He placed his forehead against yours and let out a shaky sigh. "I... I'm very relieved to hear that." He didn't even bother to hide his erection pressing against you. "If I could, I'd tell you just how much I adore you. But..." He trailed off, growing more deadweight. His head fell forward against your chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I love you. I love you so much."
You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. "You'll be fine, love," you whispered. "And I love you, too."
Despite Elliott falling limp into your arms, he refused to loosen his grip on you the entire night. Or the morning to come.
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khihi · 2 months
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really though as a generally really quiet kind of person who struggles expressing themselves a lot of the time i relate to jan wayyy too much
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gorespawn · 10 months
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oh right, i changed main accs like last year and transferred this side blog, but never got back into using it! so now i don't follow a single account </3 so if we used to be mutuals (or if you'd like to be!) could you please reply to this or interact somehow...? i've missed being here
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mimicmimikyuwrites · 2 months
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Jealousy - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Sinner!Reader SMUT
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Summary: Lucifer's jealousy emerges when your Ex from when you were alive enters the hotel in search of you. Lucifer makes sure to claim you as his.
Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, dom!Lucifer, cream pie, Lucifer being possessive, marking, unprotected sex, degradation (it happens like once), SMUT, MDNI
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A typical day in Hell was far from calm, so whenever a peaceful moment occurred, even a small one, you made sure to savor it, appreciating it for what it was. For example, you intended to let the wonderful moment you were currently in last for as long as you possibly could. You had been watching a movie in your room in the hotel, but by now your attention had turned away from the movie in question and onto Lucifer. The king of Hell had snuggled up closer to you than he already had been, his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the show.
The simple gesture made you melt, and you couldn't resist gently turning his face to look at you. Lucifer looked at you curiously, waiting for your next move. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, enjoying the smile it brought to his face.
"Hmm, that was nice, but I think you missed, love." He leaned in, closing the gap between you two, kissing you lovingly. You moved to deepen the kiss and— a knock came at the door. You parted from the kiss and looked towards your room door as Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll make sure to give you as many kisses as you want later, alright?" You whispered to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and answering the door.
"(Y/N)!" Charlie exclaimed in excitement. "The hotel has a new guest! They said that they know you. You two must've been friends before! Come on, let's go see them!" Without warning, Charlie eagerly grabbed you by the hand, pulling you through the hallways of the hotel and towards the main lobby.
In the lobby, you saw them. The fucker you had hoped would never die purely so you would never have to see them again. Yet, here they were in all of their trashy, shit glory. "Hi." You said with a fake smile, trying to remain civil and hold back the resentment that had since been dormant.
"(Y/N)! Baby!" Your ex grinned, approaching you with wide, open arms. "I'm so glad I found you after all these years. It took some asking around, but we're together again!" They wrapped their arms around you, squeezing you tight enough that it felt like you might suffocate.
"Woah, haha! Hands off, please!" Lucifer appeared next to you, poking at your ex with his cane, annoyance seeping into his forced, polite tone. They finally released you, glaring at Lucifer as he stepped between the two of you.
"And just who the hell are you?" Your ex questioned, watching as Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "I feel like I should be asking you that question." Your boyfriend replied snidely, any attempt to be polite despite the situation now far gone.
"Alrighty!" Charlie said with a nervous laugh, wishing that she had gathered more information about her hotel's newest guest and their relationship with you before allowing them to see you. "Let's all just relax, and maybe (Y/N) can introduce the two of you to eachother."
You let out a sigh. You loved how sweet Charlie was taking in any sinner, you really did, but sometimes it did more harm than good, usually to no fault of her own. You motioned to your ex, "Lucifer, this is my ex." Then you motioned to your boyfriend, "This is Lucifer. King of Hell...And my boyfriend." The last part felt almost weird to say, the surrealness of dating the Hell's king and the man sometimes known as the devil himself finally setting in.
Your ex only laughed in response, earning an angry, growling-like noise from Lucifer. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down which only partially worked.
"There's no way this little guy is Hell's king! He's so fucking short. I really thought you had better standards in who you date, babe."
"Fuck you." You hissed, anger bubbling up inside of you as you felt yourself slipping into your more demonic form. "He's certainly better than you ever were." By now the other inhabitants of the hotel had gathered around, some more entertained than anything, while others, particularly Vaggie, were preparing for the brawl that was surely about to happen.
"Woah! Look at the time." Charlie intervened. "It's getting pretty late, why don't we all start heading to bed?" You responded only by turning around and heading towards your room, in desperate need of calming yourself down. Lucifer followed behind you, the walk to your room quiet with no words spoken.
You opened your door, nearly throwing it open in your still-present anger, before flopping down onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. You looked to the side, taking notice of the way Lucifer refused to look at you, his arms crossed.
"Honey?" No answer. "Love?" No answer, yet again. "Luci?" That did the trick. He always melted whenever you called him that.
"Your ex is fucking annoying."
You let out a small chuckle at his bluntness, a smile making its way onto your face. "They are, Luci. That's why they're my ex." You sat up, pulling him down onto the bed with you, kissing him, causing both of you to relax, some built-up tension leaving.
"You're all mine, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. "Mine to love. Mine to claim." His mouth moved to your neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, and you let out a soft moan as he began to nibble and kiss at the skin, his teeth leaving a mark you were sure he'd take pride in.
Your head fell to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you took his hat off, throwing it to the side, your fingers running through his hair as he continued to mark you.
"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only ever want me." He whispered, lips returning to yours in a fervent kiss. Your lips remained locked together, only occasionally parting for a few seconds so you could help rid each other of the clothes that separated you from what you both craved.
He moved between your legs, the tip of his hardened cock teasing at your wet entrance. Usually, you two would've done more before the main act, but you two were more than ready to indulge in the other right now.
"Don't be a tease, Lucifer." You purred, spreading your legs wider. "Can't you feel how wet I am? How ready I am for you to fuck me senseless?"
He smirked before finally slipping in, biting his lip to prevent an almost embarrassingly loud moan that threatened to surface at the way you felt wrapped around him. He has been in heaven before, and he could say with confidence that being deep inside of you felt better than anything his former home could've offered him.
He began to thrust, his pace starting slow, still teasing you. He wanted you to beg, and you already knew it.
"Faster, harder, please, Lucifer—" You pleaded, giving in to what he wanted from you. "I know you want to pound me into this bed, Lucifer—Ah! Fuck!—" His pace sped up, and the sound of hips meeting yours in rapid succession filled the room. "Fuckfuckfuck–yes!"
"You always feel so fucking good." He growled, wings slipping out as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers through the red and white feathers, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling. His wings had always been sensitive.
"Fuck me—Let them all know I'm yours!" You cried out, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock fucking you with quick, deep strokes. You gripped the sheets in your hands, back arching as he angled himself just right, hitting your sweet spot head on.
"Mine. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, and mine to fill up. All mine." His hands found yours, pinning them down against the bed as he began to fuck you even harder, his climax nearing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.
"I'm gonna cum–You're going to make me cum so hard–"
"Then fucking do it." He demanded with a growl. "Cum around my cock like the little slut you are for me." You came around him, cunt spasming as your orgasm coursed through you. Lucifer's wings fluttered as he followed you soon after, filling you up with his hot cum.
You pulled him down into a sweet kiss once your climax subsided, cupping his face in your hands. God, you loved him more than anything. The kiss ended after a good moment, leaving you both to bask in your shared, post-coital bliss.
"You lost a few feathers," You observed with a giggle, holding one up. He chuckled warmly, lying beside you. You rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. You'd have to deal with your ex in the morning, but for now, you were both satisfied with knowing that you were entirely Lucifer's, and that's how you'd always want it to be.
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tatoasting · 1 year
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When ur boyfriend drives half an hour to come spend an hour with you before bed just because he misses u (and then he stays an extra hour) like.... he loves me! He really loves me!
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gyrlliar · 16 days
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Initiation pt.2
(football team x bttm cheerleader male/ftm reader)
(note: currently healing from pneumonia, but i'm back, i missed you sluts so much haha)
You gulped as you stared up at their musky cocks and sweaty faces. You thought initiations would be like drinking gross drinks or being pranked by the seniors...not...this. But who said you were complaining? You sucked on Ivan's cock as Gerald started going to town on your lower half. Gerald lightly prodded his tongue on your throbbing hole and started to eat you out.
You squeaked on Ivan's cock, the noise vibrating on his sensitive rod making him groan loudly. The twins looked over at you with devious grins on their faces, Luke slightly pushes Lucas to the side, making Lucas scoff and push Luke back. "Hey, I'm gonna get a handjob from him first!" Luke protested as Lucas stuck out his tongue at him.
The twins proceeded to bicker back and forth as Daniel stands in front of you, his face was red and embarassed. Ivan chuckles at his face, Ivan's blue eyes look down at you, groans bubbling from his throat whilst he's trying to speak. "This cutie has enough room in his mouth for the both of us, Danny. Get your knob slobbered over by this one."
Ivan's southern accent came out, his precum bursting in your mouth. Soft and lewd moans and whimpers came out muffled in your mouth as you felt Gerald lick a sensitive part of your hot, dripping sex. Ivan shoved more of his cock down your throat, the way that his cock curved over to the right scratched your throat...gosh, you won't be able to yell cheers for weeks after this.
Daniel shook his head at Ivan's offer, his hands over his boner as he refused to use you even though how enticing you looked right now...
Your mind was melting from the heat of the hot intimacy happening to your previously virgin body, you jerked your head back into Ivan's fat cock as Gerald's tongue prodded on your hole.
Daniel was going insane over your lewd expression as you were getting overstimulated. Ivan laughs at Daniel's unreadable face, "Too scared to fuck this cutie? C'mon, we gotta help him become the best cheerleader!" Ivan said with a deep laugh.
Gerald then pulled Daniel to his side, your aching and throbbing hole was presented to him lewdly. "C'mon Cap...relax for once and fuck this tight and delicious hole." Gerald offered to Daniel.
Daniel gulped heavily, his sweaty hands grabbed your soft yet muscular thighs which made his cock twitch. He pushed your legs apart easily, your flexibility made his cock twitch once more as he stared at your pretty hole that was winking at him.
"Cap, c'mon, fuck his little brains out! You starin' at his ass like you fallin' in love...I mean, shit I would too." Gerald stated jokingly whilst the others agreed. Daniel glared at him briefly as he felt his heart pump in jealousy.
He had to be honest. Ever since the first day of college, when he saw you dressed up like a stereotypical preppy cheerleader, he always used to scoff at those people, but you...you were just so...fucking cute and so nice.
The way you waved and smiled at him as he was just looking at you whilst he was walking in the campus, the way that you randomly gave him his favorite drink before a football match to 'boost your energy!'...why are you so fucking cute?
Daniel's hazel eyes shined as he grabbed your hips and the hot tip of his cock prodded against your throbbing hole. "I-I'm...gonna go in now." He said, his voice cracking in the process.
Your sex twitched cutely, it was like you saying 'go ahead, use me', Daniel's cock and heart throbbed as he accidentally roughly shoved his long and thick cock in your sex, making you moan loudly and your eyes tear up.
Ivan groaned as he felt the vibrations of your moans on his sensitive cock, making more precum ooze into your warm mouth. He laughed, "Woah there Cap'! I always knew you were a rough guy in the field, but I didn't know it was with sex too!" They all laughed as Daniel panicked slightly.
He soothingly rubbed the side of your hips with his rough hands as you relaxed around his cock. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." Daniel said, panic and worry evident in his face. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest, almost like you saying that it was alright.
Daniel felt his face heat up even more as he started thrusting into you at a gentle pace, his hand started groping your pretty chest, tweaking your cute nipples, making your sex spasm around him. His eyes furrowed in frustration, 'Goddamnit...you're so cute.' He thought as he started thrusting faster.
The two twins finally ended their squawking and decided to let your two hands pleasure them both. Luke moaned softly as he felt your soft hand gently massage his cock, whilst Lucas used your other hand vigorously to pump his dripping cock.
Ivan pulled Gerald next to him and Gerald whipped out his thick and girthy cock, "I'm gonna pull out of your mouth for a sec' babe...'cuz you're gonna worship both our cocks." You nodded mindlessly as Ivan pulled his cock out of your mouth with a lewd pop.
You started licking Gerald's fat and musky cock and kissing Ivan's long rod. At this point, your mind has melted like butter. All of the football team was using you like a sex toy, whether or not if they were rough or not, they were so good at what they were doing...at football and sex.
Everyone started speeding up their pace as you slobbered onto Gerald's cock, making him groan. Ivan jerked off his cock on top of your face, his precum dripping onto your cute, fucked out face.
The two twins moaned loudly as they used your soft hands to jack off their cocks, Daniel started fucking you animalistically, making you moan loudly on the two cocks that were in your mouth now.
Everyone started moaning aggressively, as if they were doing the hardest and toughest of practices and drills...well...technically they were, just with you. You felt their cocks chub up as you felt an orgasm build up in your sex.
The final stretch, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as they all started spurting ropes of cum onto your body and into your mouth. You gulped down the cum in your mouth, your mind was working on autopilot at this point.
They all panted heavily as Daniel was still fucking you like an animal, your sticky hands went to his back as he adjusted your position for you to look at his face. Your cum stained face was so cute...Daniel hugged you whilst closing his eyes.
"Damnit...you're too cute!" He said whilst he came agressively into you, along with him, you also had your orgasm, making you moan lewdly and hug him back. You all panted heavily as Daniel pulled out of your used hole.
They all looked at each other and smiled in a smug way, telepathically saying to each other, 'Holy shit, we just fucked the cutest cheerleader.'
The two twins carried you to the showers where they cleaned your body. Gerald and Ivan brought you some clean clothes and snacks, you blushed a bright red as after they were fucking you like no tomorrow, they were now treating you like a prince.
The whole team made you relax as they cracked up jokes and silly stories as Gerald massaged your aching body. After a while, the whole team waved goodbye to you as they went home. Except Daniel.
Daniel sat next to you in silence, his face was flushed as he silently handed you his phone. "Please give me your number..." He said softly as you blushed. "O-okay...um...I can't believe you'd want to have sex with me again after absolutely wrecking me." You joked out with shy chuckle.
"N-No! I want to go on a date with you...that's why I asked for your number." Daniel said nervously. "Oh." You muttered out as you shakily typed in your phone number in his phone.
"T-Thank you!" He said quite loudly, he winced at himself as he stood up and suddenly kissed your soft lips. He pulled away with a shocked expression, as if he was shocked at himself for kissing you. "B-...Bye!" He blurted out as he left the locker room.
You placed your hand on your lips, and smiled slightly. You squealed softly. "Cute..."
.
.
.
(THIS IS SO BAD I'M SORRY GUYS.)
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sm-baby · 8 days
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Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?
More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3
I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕
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I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.
The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!
Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!
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You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!
More on them later at the end! :3
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Dream sequence theory
Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!
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Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.
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And then she wakes up, freaked out!!
Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!
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This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3
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also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!
Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!
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Whats up with Jax?
hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...
We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!
I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.
...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner
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If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,
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Then It escalates
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This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.
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Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.
I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!
I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.
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BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!
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celestie0 · 2 months
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside
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ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)
a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)
☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1
♬.*゚playlist
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You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 
Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 
One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.
The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.
You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.
He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.
“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”
You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”
“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.
“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.
He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 
“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 
His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”
You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.
“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”
You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”
He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”
You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”
He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.
“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”
“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.
“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”
He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”
You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”
You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.
The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 
The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 
You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 
“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”
“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.
“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.
“Boo, you whore. For what class?”
“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”
“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”
“Yeah.”
“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”
“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.
“So definite no to hang out?” 
“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”
“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”
You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”
“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 
You glance at the time. 11:56am. 
“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.
You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.
“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”
You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.
“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”
You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 
She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”
You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 
She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”
You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”
Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”
Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 
“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 
You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.
But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 
“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”
Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”
You sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”
Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”
She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”
The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 
It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 
Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 
You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  
“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”
You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 
Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.
“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 
You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.
There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.
Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”
“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.
“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”
“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”
Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 
“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 
“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”
There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.
“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”
“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 
Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”
“What?”
He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”
“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”
“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.
Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”
The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.
“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”
For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.
“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”
You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 
Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”
“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”
“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.
The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.
“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 
He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.
“Yeah.”
“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”
You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”
There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”
The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”
You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 
The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.
Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.
“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.
The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.
“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.
You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”
The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”
“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”
She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”
“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.
She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 
You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”
She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”
“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”
“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.
You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”
“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 
“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.
“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.
You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.
“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”
The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.
You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.
“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”
“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”
The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.
The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”
“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.
All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 
“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”
“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”
You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.
“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.
Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.
“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.
“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”
The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 
“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.
“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.
He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”
“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.
“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”
Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 
Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”
He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.
You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.
“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.
You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.
You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.
“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”
“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”
Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”
He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”
“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 
He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.
“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.
This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 
“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”
He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”
“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.
He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.
“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”
He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”
Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”
“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.
“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.
He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Positive?”
“Satoru.”
“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.
You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 
This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 
“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.
“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.
“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.
You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”
“I will.” 
“I’m glad.”
“No peeping.”
“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 
It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 
When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.
“What?” you ask.
“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”
You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 
You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 
“No. I love it.”
“I’m not following.”
You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”
He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”
“Your problem,” you say.
“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.
“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”
“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.
You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.
“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.
“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.
“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.
“But I usually sleep on the left side.”
You blink at him.
“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.
“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.
Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.
“Are you su-”
“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.
He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”
The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.
He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.
“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.
“Sneak what in?” 
“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”
You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 
“Before,” is all you say to him.
He sighs. “y/n…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.
It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.
“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”
“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.
You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”
“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”
“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.
He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”
“That’s it? That’s the reason?”
“Mhm.”
You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”
He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands? 
“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.
“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 
You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.
“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.
He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.
You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.
“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 
He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 
Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.
“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.
“It’s okay,” you whisper too.
The silence settles for longer.
He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.
“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.
“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”
You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”
“Reasons.”
“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”
He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”
You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.
“Like…guilmon from digimon?
“Mhm.”
“You like digimon?”
“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.
“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 
“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.
He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.
He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.
“Hey–”
“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 
“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.
“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”
When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 
“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.
“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”
“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.
“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.
You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 
He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”
You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.
He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.
You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.
“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 
You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.
“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.
It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.
You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 
You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.
“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”
“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”
He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”
You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”
He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”
“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.
“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”
You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.
“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 
“Mhm, makes sense.”
His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.
You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”
He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”
“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”
“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 
“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”
He nods. “You do.”
There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.
“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.
“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”
“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”
“I asked him for it.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”
“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”
There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”
You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”
He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”
“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”
“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”
“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.
You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 
“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”
“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.
“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”
His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 
You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.
“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”
“You’re not bad,” is all he says.
“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”
“y/n,” he says, like a warning.
“I mean it,” you whisper.
“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.
“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”
He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.
“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 
Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 
Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.
You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.
Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.
You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.
The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 
It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.
“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”
You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.
Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”
You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 
You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.
“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.
Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.
“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.
“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.
Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”
All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.
“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”
With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.
“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.
You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”
“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 
“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.
He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”
“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.
He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”
“When did you graduate?” you ask.
“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 
You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”
“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.
“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.
He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”
“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.
“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.
You meet his gaze. “No way.”
“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 
You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”
He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”
You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”
“Yup.”
“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.
“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”
You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”
He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”
You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”
The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.
“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”
“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”
“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”
“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”
He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”
You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”
He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”
Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”
He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 
Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”
He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”
You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.
“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”
“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.
The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.
UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.
The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.
“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.
“Went fine,” Kai responds.
“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”
Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”
Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.
“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.
You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.
There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.
“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.
“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.
He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 
You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 
And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.
When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.
“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.
He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”
He doesn’t deny it.
“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.
He sighs. “Yes.”
“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.
“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”
You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.
“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.
“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”
“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”
He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”
“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”
“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”
“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”
“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.
“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.
He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”
“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”
He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”
There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”
He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”
“Mhm. Thanks.”
He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.
The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 
You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 
You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 
Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.
|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera
|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way
The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.
You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.
|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there
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a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off
➸ take me to chapter nine!
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taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)
1K notes · View notes
danveration · 2 months
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What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine.
Parings: Dark!Creepy!Vox x GN!reader
Summary: Vox has a plan to finally make you his
Word count: 3145
Warnings: Stalking, obsession, manipulation, delusion, self-delusion, reader getting hypnotized by Vox against their will, mention of death, mentions of cannibalism (cannibal town), being watched while naked, reader being hurt by Vox physically
Part one
A/N: GUYS. I have a part 3 planned out but it’s REALLY fucking dark😭. Also, I was listening to the song “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift while writing this. (Hence the inspiration for the title)
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Vox is getting impatient.
It’s been two weeks since he met you face to face. Two weeks since he gave you the laptop in which he’s been watching you through the webcam, and still all the cameras. Two weeks since you have been getting paranoid.
Ever since you’ve been using the laptop, you’ve noticed it’s been sparking with electricity whenever you use it. You kind of brushed it aside though because maybe this is normal for VoxTek technology.
But little did you know, it’s not normal. None of this is normal. Vox has been watching you and seeing what you browse on your laptop 24/7. He has had little no breaks. Valentino and Velvette have been giving Vox the side eye as of late, looking at him with pity/concern. He doesn’t care though, he just thinks they’re the crazy ones. This is completely okay and normal for him! How is it wrong? Nobody could prove him otherwise.
Vox must admit, seeing you face to face on the laptop camera other than angles from the cameras that are far away, is completely different. This is a millstone for him. He gets to admire you up close and take in every single detail of you. A couple days ago, you forgot to close your laptop that was on a table in your room, facing your bed. That was a fantastic day for Vox. He had a field day. He isn’t ashamed of what he did, he’s proud. He did it for you.
You’re currently sitting on your bed with your laptop, scrolling through Hell’s news feed. You’re bored, you want to do something but honestly there’s nothing much to do in Hell that doesn’t have a 90% death rate. You decide to close the laptop and go downstairs.
Vox is up. He’s been up. He had two cups of coffee beside him and he’s been awake for.. What is the hour now? He’s lost count. He just doesn’t want to miss something happening in your life! What if you wake up with a nightmare? What if bad people want to hurt you suddenly when you’re outside or asleep?? There’s so many things that could happen. He needs to be there and alert to protect you.
“Fuck sakes, Vox. You’re still on this? Clear your head, dummy!” Velvette says with a roll of her eyes.
“Shut up. My head is clear, Velvette. I’m as sane as I’d ever be!” He says.
“Uh huh.. sure. Whatever you say.” She says, walking away.
Vox shakes his head and chuckles. “People are crazy.”
He looks back up to his screen, watching you go downstairs.
You get downstairs and see that everyone is down here.
“Ah! Y/n! Goodmorning!” Charlie says with a smile.
“Morning, Charlie.” You say with a smile, waving.
“Good morning, dear!” Alastor says to you, while he’s sitting on a chair.
You look over to where he is. “Morning, Al!”
Vox’s eye twitches.
Angel and Husk are talking at the bar, and Niffty and Sir Pentious are talking. Well.. Niffty seems to be telling him something and he’s standing there in shock, looking terrified. Typical reaction for when Niffty is telling you something.
Vaggie is cleaning her spear in the lounge area, and Charlie is writing on a paper.
“Sooo, now that everyone’s here I have an announcement to make!” Charlie says, looking up from her paper. “Today.. We are doing group activities! Yay! Haha so, basically I had the great idea for all of us to go out on the town together and just spend time with one another. Doesn’t that sound fun?!” She says with excitement.
A day on the town. Honestly, that sounds nice. You’re bored out of your mind today so anything goes.
“Eehh.. I dunno. I had plans alrea-“ Angel starts but Charlie cuts him off.
“Oh come onnn! It’ll be fun, I promise!” Charlie says.
Everyone is silent so she takes that as a yes. “Alright! Great! Everyone meet here in an hour and off we go!”
You go upstairs to get dressed.
Vox listens intently to what Charlie says. A day on the town? He’s been racking his brain on how to talk to you in real life again. This may be just the thing! What if you two “accidentally” run into each other? Perfect. He notices that he’s not in the best physical state at the moment. He’s in sweat pants and a stained t-shirt. And he hasn’t showed in... A couple days. He has an hour to freshen up. He bolts out of the room to take a shower, brush his teeth, and put on his classic suit outfit.
You’re getting out of the shower and you pick out an outfit to wear. Fixing your appearance, you notice you left your laptop open again. Damn, you’ve got to get on closing that. It’ll lose its battery!
Vox steps out of the hot shower, looking at himself in the mirror. He winks at himself and goes to pick his suit outfit. After getting dressed and ready, he glances at the screen and sees you naked, about to get dressed.
“Fuck.” He says, eyeing you up and down. He feels he’s in a trance, which is ironic.
“All mine.” He whispers. Shaking his head quickly to gain composure, he sets off to go to the hotel. He will watch you guys from afar until you arrive somewhere where it’s likely where he’d be at too. Then, his mastermind plan will layout.
———————————————————————
You get downstairs and everyone is there, which is surprising. You’d expect at least Angel or Alastor to sneak off, not wanting to do this.
“Allriiggghht!! Let’s go.” Charlie says, walking to the entrance and opening the door for everyone.
“Where exactly are we going?” Angel says.
“Yeah, I’m not looking to walk no marathon.” Husk joins in.
“Wellll, I was thinking we’d just go to..” Charlie trails off. “Umm..”
“Charlie, do you even know where you’re taking us?” You say with a chuckle.
“Well…. Not yet. But! This isn’t about the destination. It’s about spending time together!” She says with a smile.
“I ssuppose you’re right.” Sir Pentious says.
Alastor’s ears twitch upwards and he says, “I have a marvelous idea! We could go to cannibal town! It’s truly a wonderful place. Remember, Charlie?” Alastor suggests.
“Hmm.. You know, that’s actually not a bad idea!” Charlie says.
Everyone gives them looks.
“Cannibal? As is.. Cannibal?” Sir Pentious says with shock.
“Ooohh..” Niffty laughs. “I’m SO excited!” She says, jumping up and down.
“Yeah! It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise.” Charlie says with a smile.
“Whatever you think is best, babe.” Vaggie says, holding onto Charlie’s arm.
“Cannibal town it is!” Charlie says, leading the group.
———————————————————————
Vox is overhearing the conversation. “Cannibal town? Are you fucking kidding me?” He whispers, walking a safe distance away from you guys. Even simply seeing you exist is driving him crazy. You’re so perfect. “Cannibal town it is then. The things we do for love.” He chuckles to himself.
The way you walk is so memorizing to him. Look at you. He feels electricity spark around him, knocking over a electric pole next to him, making a loud noise.
“Shit.” He says, glancing in front of him, seeing you all stop for a moment, about to look back.
He quickly looks to his left and jumps out of the way. He waits a few seconds and then peaks out, seeing you all keep walking forward.
He sighs and goes back to following you.
What he didn’t notice was that Alastor was no longer with the group, instead, he teleported himself behind Vox. He notices, of course he does. He smiles to himself at the fact that he now has the upper hand, he has something to now hold over his head.
Teleporting back to the group, he glances over to Charlie.
“My dear, there it is!” He points.
“Ahh! Guys, we are here!” She says.
You all look around in shock. It’s actually.. Really nice there. Nicer than any place you’ve seen in Hell since you arrived. Everyone seems very polite.
Angel goes off to flirt with people, Husk looks around for the nearest bar, Charlie and Vaggie take pictures together, Sir Pentious is looking around paranoid, and Niffty is.. Where’s Niffty? Oh well, she’ll show up sooner than later. And Alastor is chatting with a lady. You think her name is Rosie? You saw her on an overload poster the other day.
You see a water fountain and go to sit by it.
Vox looks around. He’s pleasantly surprised. This isn’t the kind of place he’d choose to go, but it’s still not as bad as he thought it would be. He thought it would just be people violently eating and killing each other.
He sees you sitting on a bench beside a fountain, and walks up from behind.
You’re feeling kind of thirsty so you get up to go find the nearest store. Hopefully they sell things other than human remains.
Vox takes this as his chance, he walks swiftly beside you and then bumps into you on “accident.”
You jump and look to your side.
Vox..?
“Oh shit sorry!” He chuckles, looking up at you.
“Oh you’re.. Y/n, right?” He says with a charming smile.
“Yeah.” You chuckle awkwardly.
“You come here often?” He asks.
“To cannibal town? No, haha. Me and some friends are just visiting.” You explain.
“Ahhh.. I see, I see.” He stares at you in admiration.
You can’t help but feel weird around him. You’re not sure why. He seems like a nice guy, but.. There’s just something about him.
“Well..” You say. “I’ve got to get going.”
“Mind if I join you?” He says with a smile. “Wouldn’t want anyone eating you or anything like that.” He laughs and starts walking with you, not waiting for an answer.
“Soo.. How’ve you been? Have you been enjoying your new laptop?” He asks you.
You can’t seem to find a store that would sell water so you just stand there, turning your head to Vox to make conversation.
“I’ve been pretty good! Bored, but good. And yeah actually, I’ve been using it a lot.” You say, smiling.
“Oh that’s good, that’s good.” He says, nodding.
His heart is beating out of his chest right now.
You try your best to put aside your feelings of uneasiness towards him. It’s probably nothing. He’s just a new face and you gotta get used to that! He didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just your brain being annoying.
Little did you know, you have every single right to feel uneasy.
“Have you enjoyed all the features?” He asks, wanting to know more about what your thoughts are on the laptop. But more or less, just wanting to hear your voice and make as much conversation as he can with you.
“Yeah! Though.. I’ve noticed something weird. Is it.. normal for the laptops to spark electricity?” You ask in question, remembering how whenever you went on it, you saw sparks aka Vox watching you.
Vox smiles and says, “Absolutely! That’s completely normal. We thought it would be a cool idea, you know? It’s completely harmless!” He says in a convincing tone.
You feel relived at that. “Ohh alright, good!” You smile.
Vox wants to ask you out on a date. He wants to just take you. He want you. All of you. He just doesn’t know how to approach this. It’s overwhelming for him.
“Vox?” You say, “What’re you doing here?” You ask in question, wondering what sort of business a powerful, popular man like himself was doing here.
“Hm?” He starts. “Oh! Right. I’m just here walking the streets. Browsing.” He answers with an awkward chuckle.
“Ohh, nice.” You ask, looking behind him to see Niffty chasing someone with an arm.
“Oh my- Will you excuse me, Vox? I have to go do something.” You say, stepping away from him.
He sparks and steps in front of you, blocking you.
“W-wait! Hold on. I wanted to ask you something.” He says with a smile.
You look at him with a raised brow.
“Uhh..” He says, shifting his feet and looking away and back at you, seemingly nervous.
“Haha..” He awkwardly scratches his neck and thinks over how exactly he wants to say this.
Just as he was about to talk and ask you to go out with him, Charlie steps in the way.
“Y/n! We were going to head back to the hotel now and do some more fuunn group exercises!” She said smiling.
She looks over to who you’re talking to and tilts her head.
“Hello! Who might you be?” She says smiling at him.
Vox stares at her, annoyed.
“This is Vox. He owns VoxTek and he’s one of the VVV’s.” You cut in.
“Oohhh well it’s SO nice to meet you, Mr. Vox.” She says.
“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you too. Me and Y/n were just-“ He mumbles but gets interrupted by Niffty running between his legs and accidentally hitting him with the arm she was waving around.
His eyes go red and electricity goes around him, showing that he’s mad. He’s had enough. This was supposed to be a swift move. He comes in, wipes you off your feet, you fall in love with him, and you’re his. But in his mind, all these fucking bitches keep interrupting his time with you. He’s had it.
He snaps and grabs your arm, pulling you away from everyone. Charlie just looks in question, but walks away when she notices Vaggie calling her over.
You’re shocked and confused. What is going on? You barely know Vox. You feel a spark as he grabs you, and you hiss out in pain.
“Y/n.” He says, looking at you. His eyes are manic wide and he’s smiling at you possessively.
You try to back away but he holds you firmly by his wrist.
“Just listen. Everything is okay. I was trying to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me.” He explains calmly, despite his not very calming state.
You now feel better that you had an uneasy feeling about him. It was deserved.
“Uhh.. Yeah, I don’t know about that. I’m sorry.” You say hesitantly.
He stops. Letting go of your arm.
“What did you just say?”
He looks at you in shock, anger, and determination.
You back up and say, “No. I don’t want to go on a date with you, Vox. I’m sorry.”
You walk away, meeting Charlie and the rest of the family. You guys walk back to the hotel, leaving Vox there to spiral.
Vox stands there, frozen. Did you just..? Say no..? To him? The love of your life? What has gotten in your head? He’s in disbelief. He shakes his head, laughing.
“No. This isn’t right. Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll clear your head in no time.” He says with a smile, calming walking back to his headquarters.
———————————————————————
You’re back in you room, ready for bed. Yawning, you open your laptop to check your messages before you go to sleep.
Vox is smiling as he sends hypnotizing message through the screen. Trust him, love him, and feel sorry for how you treated him.
All of a sudden, you see sparks on the laptop again, but this time, you feel something.
Your head spins and your eyes go foggy for a second. All you can think about is how much you messed up by declining Vox’s offer today. How dumb can you be? Why would you do that?
You snap out of the trance and frown. A wave of regret and shame fills you. Vox of VoxTek, one of the most important people in Hell, the guy who gave you a free laptop, the charming man who asked you out on a date, when he could’ve asked anyone else but he asked you.. and you said no?!
You panic and begin to have anxiety. You have to apologize to him. In person.
Getting up, not even changing out of your pyjamas, you leave your room and go to walk over to the VVV tower to say sorry to Vox and see if it’s not too late to accept his offer.
All-while, Vox is sitting back smirking while watching you on his screens. See?! Now you have some sense talked into you. You just needed a little push. His lovely is on his way to see him, as it should’ve been. You just needed some reminding of how you really felt. Vox is excited to see you again. And this time, it won’t get interrupted.
You get to the VVV tower, entering the place. It’s pretty cool there. You look around and go to the reception desk.
There’s a young man there, you have the idea to ask him if you can speak to Vox.
“Hey um.. Am I able to see Vox? I have something to say to him.” You ask.
The man laughs at you and just stares.
“Oh, you’re serious?” He asks. “No can do! We can’t just let random people walk in and talk to him.” He says in a “are-you-dumb” way.
Suddenly, Vox enters from the elevator.
“Y/n! Hello, you.” He says with a charming smile, walking over to you.
“V-Vox! I just um.. I wanted to say something to you. If that’s okay..” You start.
He shushes you and tells you to wait while he brings you up to his room for more privacy.
As you two get to his room, you look around. It suits him. There’s a lot of screens and all the colours that match his usual outfits.
“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?” He says smugly, knowing already.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted when you asked me out. I shouldn’t have said no.. I just.. I don’t know what came over me.” You say apologetically.
“Oh my dear, dear, Y/n. Thank you for your apology.” He says. “Do you have a different answer now?”
You feel a twist in your gut. Half of you is still saying no, but half of you is saying yes. You don’t know which one to lean into. It feels like your brain is confused and that you can’t even trust yourself.
Vox notices you thinking hard, so he helps you. Using his hypnotizing “power,” he puts sense into your brain.
Your head goes dizzy for a second and all comes clear to you. You don’t have to trust yourself. You can just trust him. The answer was staring you in your face all along.
“Y-yes! I do have a different answer. I’d say yes. I want to go out with you.” You say quickly.
Vox smiles.
“Oh course you do.” He whispers.
868 notes · View notes
me-and-your-husband · 10 months
Text
body ink || e. williams
summary: you tattoo ellie's thigh. it's a bit of a compromising position, and it leads you down an unexpected road. female reader.
warnings: smut!, fingering (e receiving), oral (e receiving), tattoo guns, mentions of a needle, tattoos? finger sucking?? not beta read (i didn't even read tbis through once)
a/n: i've risen from the dead. lets chat, my inbox is open :)
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e.williams
Hey! I've gone thru your page and I love your work. Especially your big pieces, they're sick asf. I was wondering if you had any openings for July?
y/ntattoos
hi! i'm glad you like my work, thank you for the kind words! i've got a couple openings in july, when can you come in?
e.williams
I can come in whenever. I'll make time for it if I have to...I don't care when, as long as you're the one doing it haha
y/ntattoos
how does july 13th at 1pm sound?
e.williams
That works!
y/ntattoos
perfect. what are you looking to get done?
e.williams
I was looking to get something kind of floral but not super...soft, yk?
y/ntattoos
so not super feminine? like no roses?
e.williams
Yeah, exactly like that. I don't have a design in mind...I kind of wanted you to design it? I'll pay extra for it I don't mind, but I saw your other designs on your page and liked your style lol
y/ntattoos
okay, tell you what: i'll draw up a couple designs and send them your way before the appointment. sound okay?
e.williams
Yes! Perfect.
y/ntattoos
cool cool. i'll send you the quote once we choose a design. how big were you thinking? and where?
e.williams
I was thinking on my thigh...? I know some artists won't do thighs so if you're uncomfortable w that it's cool!
I was hoping to cover most of my thigh tho
y/ntattoos
haha dw about it. i'm fine with the thigh. trust me, i'm sure i've had weirder requests.
e.williams
Oh yeah? Like what?
y/ntattoos
had a guy a few weeks ago who wanted a full portrait of his grandma on his ass.
e.williams
Oh my goddd. Did you do it?
y/ntattoos
...
$300 is $300...
e.williams
At least I know you're cool with a thigh 😭
y/ntattoos
absolutely. well, i've got some more dms to answer but i'll get to drawing up your design asap. i'll be in touch, thanks ellie :)
e.williams
Sweet. Have a good one :)
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ellie walked into your tattoo shop about fifteen minutes early, to which the receptionist told her to take a seat as you were still finishing up with another client. "she shouldn't be too long."
you had reached out to ellie with five or six amazing designs, all of which she loved. she had such a hard time choosing between all of them, but you managed to rework her favourite parts of each design into one. you both finally came up with a tattoo design that she was obsessed with.
ellie half expected you to be a middle-aged woman with black lipstick and face tattoos, maybe even half of your head shaved and the other side bright pink. your page didn't feature any photos of yourself, just your work.
so when you came waltzing out from the studio and into the foyer, ellie thought you were the client.
"hey, your next client is here," jess said, gesturing to ellie in the chair by the entrance scrolling her phone.
"thanks, jess," you said before approaching ellie. "ellie?"
she looked up from her phone at you, completely startled by who was in front of her. a girl about her age, fucking gorgeous. there's no way you could've developed such skill in so little time.
"hi, yes, that's, uh, that's me," she said as she stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.
"nice to finally meet you," you said, holding your hand out for her to shake. her breath hitched slightly as she took yours.
"you too," she mumbled.
"i'll take you back into the studio now, i've just gotta wipe everything down from my last client." you started walking into the back and she followed you.
"cool, cool ," she said nervously.
this wasn't her first tattoo. she knew what it felt like. she wasn't sweating, stuttering, and shaking before she caught a glimpse of you.
her breath caught in her throat when she realized that you'd have to sit between her legs for most of the appointment.
she was so fucked.
she stood awkwardly playing with her fingers as you sanitized the tools and the chair, listening to you hum slightly to the music playing. she could hear the buzz of the tattoo gun from other artists in the space tattooing other clients.
in the back, an older man was tattooing a woman on the back of her knee. that had to hurt. next to them was a older woman tattooing a woman not much older than you two.
"alright, we're all set. i'm just gonna put this up," you said, unfolding one of those old-timey partitions that princesses change behind in the movies. "it's just to give us a bit of privacy, since you're getting tattooed in a bit more of an exposed place, you know?"
"oh yeah, that makes sense. thanks."
"don't thank me," you laughed. "okay, not to be too forward or anything, but if you brought shorts to change into, i'll give you a minute. if not, i'm cool with you just taking your pants off."
ellie laughed nervously, knowing it didn't even cross her mind to bring shorts. "take me out to dinner first, damn," she chuckled, starting to undo her belt buckle.
you pretended to occupy yourself with putting your gloves on and preparing your table as she took her pants and shoes off, leaving her in her black boxers, your mouth watering a little at her toned thighs.
"you can hop up on the chair when you're done. if you can just like, throw one leg over each side— yeah, like that. perfect."
ellie couldn't believe that she was borderline straddling a tattoo chair in her boxers right now. in front of you, especially. fuck.
without much warning, you slid your swivel chair almost between her legs.
"left or right?"
"uh, i write with my right hand, but i can do some things with my left?" she swallowed hard.
you laughed, "are you getting it on your left or right thigh?"
"oh, uh," god, she was an idiot. "left."
"cool. i'm gonna put the stencil on, then you can look in the mirror and see if you like it. 'kay?"
she nodded, watching you peel the film from the stencil, trying her hardest not to tense up when your soft fingers placed the stencil onto her milky skin, sending shivers straight to her centre.
when she looked at it in the mirror, she grinned, rotating her leg around to get a good look. "fuck, that's sick. i'd be content with just the stencil, you know."
you smiled at her through the mirror. "well hopefully you'll like it better once it's actually shaded."
once you had her back in the chair, you began prepping your gun. "okay, i know you've had a tattoo before, i saw that piece on your arm. so you know what to expect, right?"
"yeah. yeah, i'll be fine."
"okay. if you need a break, just let me know, kay? thighs can be sensitive." you switched the gun on.
"will do."
you began the outlining, humming to yourself over the buzz of the gun. she watched your face focused on the lines, keeping a steady hand.
"who did your arm piece?" you said as you wiped the ink away, making brief eye contact with her.
"oh, my ex-girlfriend did it. she bought a cheap tattoo gun when we were teenagers and i was her test subject i guess."
"cute," you said. "i was just curious." you went back to tattooing her thigh.
ex-girlfriend. that piqued your interest. i mean, it was kind of a given based on the fact that she was wearing boxers and looked like the idea of men repulsed her. and the way she took you in when she first saw you. like she was thirsty. and she was so fine, the way you could see her thigh clench and feel it under your fingers making you want to take her right behind that privacy partition.
"my ex let me tat her too. she was brave. let me do an entire leg sleeve my first time."
"oh?"
"yeah. it kind of ended badly though, so she probably regrets it."
ellie sighs, "that's the beauty of being into girls. they fuck you up."
"amen," you said, looking up at her again.
you made small talk as you worked. you found out that she was a university student studying astrophysics, that she works with her dad in the summer as a contractor to make some extra cash, that she teaches guitar throughout the school year, and that she's an artist herself (her media of choice being oil paints). she even told you that she missed work with her dad today specifically to come.
you quite enjoyed how she'd tilt her head back when you shaded some more painful areas, the cords in her neck more prominent and the column of her throat exposed.
four and a half hours later, the tattoo was finished, and you placed the second skin over her tattoo. you gave her all the aftercare instructions, going over the dos and don'ts. she held her breath when you didn't move your hand from her knee until you told her to go look at it in the mirror.
"holy fuck!?"
"...is that a good reaction or a bad reaction?"
"it's fucking amazing! jesus christ, that's so fucking cool. oh my god. you're amazing."
you blushed and thanked her as you watched her check it out in the mirror, inspecting it and gushing over how detailed it was.
she put her pants and shoes back on and you walked her out to reception.
"i've got this one, jess. take a smoke break," you said, smiling at your receptionist. she thanked you and scurried into the back room.
"alright ellie, that's $200."
"what? you quoted me at $350?"
you just smiled and looked at her, leaning forward against the counter. "pretty girl discount."
her face turned red as she took out her wallet and grinned. she counted out the money, laying $200 in cash against the counter.
"you gonna give the next client who walks through that door today a pretty girl discount, or is it just me?"
"actually, you're my last. and for the record, you're the first to get the discount."
she smiled and returned to her wallet, folding up more bills. after you put the money in the register, she leaned forward and tucked a stack of folded bills into the front pocket of your shirt, pulling you in close. "pretty girl tip."
you bit your lip as you looked at her. her eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips, finally deciding on your eyes. "you said i'm your last client, yeah?"
"yeah," you breathed.
"what're you doing after this, then?"
"well, a pretty girl hasn't asked me to go home with her yet, so i guess i'll probably pick up a coffee and—"
"come home with me?" she breathed, leaning in slightly. "please."
you giggled, "like i could say no to that."
tired of her teasing, her breath eternally fanning over your lips, you grabbed her and pulled her into you over the counter. your lips met and she groaned into the kiss, pulling away after a few seconds. she held her car keys up and shook them, "you ready, babe?"
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she had you pressed up against the wall as soon as she kicked her door shut behind her, hands all up in your hair, lips bruising against yours. you kissed her back fervently. your hand slid down to her core, feeling the wetness through her boxers and jeans. she whimpered into your open mouth at the feeling.
"fuck, you're so wet, ellie."
"then do something about it," she said, hiding her smirk in your neck as she sucked hickeys into it.
"then take me to your bed."
she led you to her room, closing and locking the door, just in case. you pushed her flannel from her shoulders and undid her belt buckle, undoing the buttons on her jeans and sliding them down her legs, being careful of her thigh. she groaned.
"this doesn't seem fair," she said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and sliding it off. she slid your pants down your legs and threw them onto the floor. "that's better."
she laid on top of you, caging you in, undoing your bra and sucking on your tits, trailing kisses down to your stomach. "fuck, so beautiful," she groaned. 
you pressed your knee gently into her core, "still want me to take care of that?"
"fuck, yeah."
you flipped her over so her ass hung off the edge of the bed and you got on your knees on the carpeted floor. she propped herself up on your elbows, watching your every move.
you began running your finger over her covered core, soaked so good that your finger was covered in her wetness when you took it away, bringing it to your lips.
"please, fuck, i need more, take them off," she said, bucking her hips up.
you hummed, "but i'm enjoying myself, el."
"please, i need you so bad y/n."
"what do you need ellie? tell me."
"i need your fingers, your mouth, anything. i'll do anything. just need you," she begged, shame gone.
"you're lucky you're insanely hot."
you slid her boxers off, watching the strings of slick that connected her pussy to the fabric. you laid your head against the thigh that wasn't freshly tattooed, tracing your finger through her dripping core.
"open up for me, honey," you instructed, gently spreading her thighs further apart.
she let out the most guttural moan when your tongue finally slid through her folds, collecting her juices on your tongue. her hands found your hair and pulled gently, making you moan into her cunt.
you sucked her clit gently, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. when your middle finger slid into her entrance she tried to muffle her moan with the back of her hand, but you yanked it away. "wanna hear you, el. don't do that."
"fuck, you're too good. fuckkk."
"you almost there el? can feel you clenchin' around me," you said, sliding another finger in and returning your mouth to lapping at her folds, paying special attention to her bundle of nerves.
she hummed and nodded fervently. with every thrust in and out, you felt her clench around you, a small white ring forming around the base of your fingers.
"fuck, fuck! i'm gonna— ohhhhh god—!"
you lapped up all of her release that you could, only coming up for air once she had to push your head away from the overstimulation.
you wiped her release from your face with the back of your hand and brought your fingers to her lips, "open."
she grabbed your wrist and obeyed, swirling her tongue around your digits and closing her eyes. "see how good you taste?"
she released them with a 'pop'. "i bet you taste better."
"i seriously doubt that."
"you've been between my legs twice today. i think it's my turn to be between yours. take your panties off."
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permanent taglist:
@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs
ellie taglist:
@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz
@pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb
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jinkiezzsstuff · 15 days
Note
Hello!!!
Can I put in a writing request??
Because I love your writing!!! 🥹
Can you do (either human alastor.. or demon alastor i love both but human alastor has a chokehold on me haha) but his partner is plus size and they are very self conscious about it
Can be smut if you like (I'm waaaay okay with that)
omg yessss i’m gonna do human alastor because he does need some attention <3 also felt this personallyyyy so i did it sooo fast 🙈 ima chunky gorl myself and with summer approaching things always get tough. i lot of what i wrote here is my own personal experience and shit so i don’t want anyone to think this is something they should feel or notice or be ashamed of! Just so you know!
warnings: SMUT 18+, gender neutral but use of clit, feral alastor, Human!alastor, kinda ooc in the way he is ravenous for reader sexually, reader doesn’t know he’s a murderer, self loathing, self hate, body worship maybe, biting breifly, alastor kinda rich or whatever for the time, insecure reader, plus size reader, body part like stomach thighs highlighted, crying, husband alastor, comfort from Al. swearing, lmk if there’s anything else! NOT PROOFREAD YALL
also i wanted to use junoisded ‘s work (on IG) but i don’t think they like things reposted unless asked and i am way to shy but go check them out their human alastor is mouthhhhh watering gawd
Closing the door behind you, you sat your bag on the table a sullen look on your face. It was particularly difficult week for you, it was getting warmer in New Orleans and when it got warm what was really meant was hot humid gross. It almost felt embarrassing at times to leave the house, the clothes companies made weren’t anything like what other people wore they were hideous, and you sweat, and just felt kind of self conscious.
Especially with Alastor. His popularity grew expeditiously over the last couple of years, with people now being able to recognize his voice all around. His popularity was a gift and a curse, a gift because you didn’t have to work through the stock market issues whereas many people your age did, and a curse because more women and men alike wanted him.
You weren’t jealous because Alastor made it pretty clear he only had eyes for you, however you couldn’t stop the comparison, you usually felt decent about yourself and your looks and Alastor made you more assured in your beliefs. But as more people would recognize him, and he’d give them that charming smile, and they’d flirt, you’d get a little jealous and insecure.
You walked into yours and Alastors shared bedroom, slipping off your shoes and looking into the mirror. You wanted to buy some nice clothing for an event you and Alastor were attending within the week, it was very hush puppy as it served contraband, however you couldn’t find anything at the market, and the tailors would be just too much to ask of Alastor.
Your lip quivered not with sadness but frustration, you just wanted to be at the same level as everybody else, without the issues, and being constantly told how to eat or use your body or dress yourself. Sitting on the bed your thighs spread out around you, stomach resting atop. Tears kept flowing pitifully as you took a moment to wrap your head around your spiraling thoughts. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your arms around your back, begining to take off the clothes that stuck to your sweaty body.
‘Loose leisure clothes.’ You chanted as you shook your trousers to your ankles and opened the drawers to your dresser. You remembered as you caught sight of one of Alastors red suit jackets, a gentleman who had commented that Alastor was far too small to lend his jacket to you on a cold night, which make you feel so bad about yourself. Slamming the drawer closed you cradled your head, this wasn’t fair, you would be ten times better with yourself if people weren’t so casually cruel.
You were okay, you were loved, but it seemed in other aspects of life people had to assure you weren’t due to how you looked. “My dear, what’re you doing all dressed down like this?” Alastors voice rang out joyfully. With a jump and a squeak your arms go to cover your body, however Alastor had already turned his back for you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart! I should’ve knocked!” Even though Alastor was being respectful, a nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of you.
“Uhm, well you can look actually…” You muttered voice just above a whisper as you rubbed your arm. Alastors hands were on his hips, elbows pointed out head facing down, then he perked up head looking behind him. Smile present on his face his eyes shamelessly drank you up. “I couldn’t find any clothes,” You mutter your throat closing as the tears returned with the thoughts of before.
Alastors body finally turned his smile falling as he watched your from recoil away from his gaze. Stepping into the room his dress shoes clinked against the wooden floor as he approached you his arms outstretched to you. Immediately you fell into his embrace holding back the urge to cry, you wanted to be as strong as he was; smiling through no matter.
However when his hand began rubbing your back, soft words of worry falling from his lips, you lost it. Burying your face into his shoulder you cried, muttering your insecurities into him as he cradled you. “And Alastor they must think i’m a joke, you’re so small compared to me.” You cried out, pulling back to look into his chocolate eyes. Quickly he pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket, his smile now a frown as he watched tears roll down your cheeks.
“My my, that’s the best part doudou. I love having flesh to bite, grip, squeeze,” Alastor grinned speaking through his closed teeth as he gripped your waist pulling your hips to his and you looked down hiding your face at his ridiculous nickname for you. “I feel proud to be able to feed you, my mother would be proud too, she’d absolutely love you. Worry not my dearest doe, i will have anything tailored to your need, and any crude bastard to comment on you I will hand slaughter the night of thee event, just to send a little message.” Alastor puffed his chest into you, his voice strangely dark and possessive, his eyes gleaming with pride as he kneaded your flesh beneath his fingers.
You never thought about it like that Alastor being able to properly provide for you, no; that was the fun of Alastor though he always knew how to twist things into something better than. Not to mention the idea of him being willing to commit a crime for you in the midst of a serial killer going around, that was something very special to you, strangely enough.
“Alastor you’re insane sometimes, but i love you.” You grinned finally, in turn making Alastors smile return larger then ever. Hands crawling up his chest and neck, you pulled him close and into a kiss. Your immediately Alastor gave into your tug, crashing his lips quickly onto your own roughly, his body grinding into your own as he did so, impatient to show you how much you mean to him though his psychical affections.
His hands gripped every little bit of flesh they passed, trailing up and down your body rolls and all, indulging his desire for you. You moaned lightly into his mouth when you felt the hard pressure of him pressed against your thigh. Alastor pulled away biting your lip as he did so, dragging it out. His eyes were lidded and one of his perfectly gelled curls fell forward and down touching the brim of his eyeglasses. “See how quickly you make me indecent my dear? Oh sweet doe, you make me so disgusting.” Alastor whined in a way, which you’d never heard, and stuffed his head into your neck, kissing, biting and sucking at your warm neck
“Alastor i’m sweaty!” You squeal as he dragged his tongue up your neck, biting at the flesh under you chin. “I know,” He mumbled quickly barely breaking away from decorating your neck. “So stop!” You huffed noncommittally as your hands came down to rest on his shoulders, lightly pushing him. “Why my little doe, you taste better this way.”
Alastor pulled back his coy smile on display as he did so, there was something so disbelieved and feral about how he looked despite not being unkept in the slightest. You felt slightly embarrassed by him admitting he liked you sweaty, but it was also comforting knowing that things you thought made you repulsive, actually attracted him.
“Come to bed with me, chérie?” Alastor hummed slyly, pulling your wrists gently toward the direction of the bed, where he was walking. “To sleep?” You asked flatly eyebrow raised, this caused a genuine laugh to bubble out of Alastors chest his head shaking just a bit. “No, and i think you knew that.” He whispered as he tugged you into him and then down onto the bed. You tensed as he did so, sitting up on your elbows you look at him and scold him.
You paused as Alastors gaze beat down on you hotly, it was sinful how he was looking at you with that cheshire grin on his face. He pulled off his glove with his teeth and used his degloved hand to remove the other one before he undid his vest, chucking it aside carelessly. You took a deep breath your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you watched him closely.
Yes you’ve had sex with Alastor before, although neither of you had a high libido so it wasn’t often, and when it was it wasn’t needy like now, no, it was loving, passionate. Alastor tossed his shirt aside crawling ontop of you right after, groaning as he pressed his bulged into the warmth of your thighs. Whimpering you covered your eyes unable to face the lustful look he was giving you.
His warm flesh melted into yours as he lowered himself ontop of you, his skin hot and sticky from being out in the louisiana heat, his breath tickled your skin as his lips dragged around your neck teasingly. “Gosh Al, I - you’re making me feel so- please.” You moaned quietly unable to place the feeling coursing through you. A mixture of wanting to beg him to devour you and wanting to hide yourself away from his heated gestures.
“What is is it you need, my dear?” His voice was sweet like honey as he breathed his sin into your ear, hand coming up under the leg hole of your undergarments, inching closer to your core. You breath was quievered as your hands found there way to his slightly musicled biceps, sinking your nails into them. Finally he backed up on his knees, and yanked down your undergarments, making you gasp.
Your husband has never been this, it made you dizzy and confused, why has he been hiding such ravenousness from you? Alastor looked down at you with pity, your legs reflexively closed before he could get a glimpse of your pretty. “Please darling don’t be modest, I need you more then ever now. I’m a starved man don’t you know? I need your quench.” You watched him as he spoke, his eyebrows knitted his face soft as he mockingly pleaded with you while he undid the button in his slacks and soon pulled down the zipper.
With jagged breaths you watched him disrobe, pulling his cock from his boxers and stroking it for you to see. Precum dripped from the tip and down his shaft, mixing into the dark coiled public hair at the base. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You whined looking away, you heard him chuckle at an octave you’ve never heard before. “What’s wrong darling? Can’t stand to see how perverse you make me? How cruel, honestly.” He huffed before his warm hands came to grip on your knees, yanking them apart. “My dear, you’re absolutely devine, you have no idea. It’s sickeningly cruel on my part, but I can’t help but be greedy about the way I only get to have you. In a world of commons, i get the rare.” Alastors hips slotted in between your thighs like many times before but this time you were so soaked you needed no foreplay. The head of his shaft prodded at your entrance, making your hips tilt forward attempting to gain friction and contact.
“Please Al, don’t make me beg you.” You moaned quietly, ashamed of how quickly you bent to his will. Alastor grinned down at you, admiring your body relaxed and needy beneath him. There wasn’t a soul he’d replace you for, you were everything and more. He could come clean about his murders and you’d kiss his cheek and serve him some whisky for his stress, because you were family, you were his.
Alastor slid into you slowly, feeling every inch of you against him, his thighs pressed against your own, he loved the feeling of you consuming him all at once. The way your body embraced his own was heaven on earth, you were his comfort that he didn’t deserved. As he watched you beneath him gasp, shake and moan as he sunk into slowly, harshly and repeatedly, he whispered sweet nothings to you. He let out a condescending chuckle while calling you a good pet, told you your body was his to love too and for shame for berating it.
You saw stars and he would slowly pull out and slam back in, believing that was the extent of this session. However, Alastor pressed his hips fully up against your own, kneading the softness of your belly as he stilled. Leaning down he captured you in a kiss, catching you off guard. You reciprocated fisting his curly hair and pulling him closer, which in response made him growl and grunt into you. He felt you clench around him at the sound, and in the moment decided he’d show you how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.
Suddenly Alastor pulled his hips back, and grinded back down into you, his public hair tickling your swollen clit, juices from your arousal squelching as he did so. This time he wasn’t slow, his pace was even and moderate, fucking you into the mattress so hard, the springs snapped, the wood creaked and you swore the bed frame was moving. Alastor pulled away from your swollen lips burying his face in your neck, he moaned for you.
You rolled your eyes back at the sounds he made, ahs, uhs and groans that were only for you. “Oh fuck Alastor i’m gonna cum,” You squeaked clenching your toes tightly as he jackhammered into you, breathing and gasping into your ear as he felt you grip him. Alastor wasn’t proud to admit it but he was too weak to respond, instead he bit down, sucking and groaning into your skin. His pace got clumsy as you cried out in ecstasy, coiling your body around him as you came harshly.
Your arm around his back, one arm around his neck and gripping his hair, and your legs tightly locked around your hips, yeah Alastor couldn’t resist himself from shooting strings into you. Your body jolted as he came shaking your while body, his grunts and whines making your sensitive hole clench him nearer. Without a warning his body collapsed ontop of yours, a deep breath escaping him as he finally relaxed. “I’ve never felt that before dear,” Alastor admitted after a moment of silence. “Me neither, made me forget about everything.” You say hazily, your voice lifted and raw from the noises you let out.
Alastor chucked his fogged glasses to the side, pulling himself out with a huff. Smiling sweetly you watched him gently place a kiss on your stomach and walk off. Sitting up you nearly went to call after him, before his naked body came waltzing back with a rag. “Wanna have a lazy evening in chérie?” You hummed approvingly, and attempted to take the rag, he scoffed at you and lightly pushed your hand away. Softly and embarrassingly so, he cleaned you from himself, enjoying the sight while he was at it.
Once finished Alastor returned the rag as you readied the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. Coming back in Alastor went to grab you both clothes before you called to him. “Can, well- i want to feel you still?” You questioned more than said. Shutting the drawer with a slam he grinned like the little cheshire he was and crawled into bed with you. You pulled him in and he you, nuzzling yourself into his chest you whimpered at the contact, feeling various emotions run through you.
“I chose you my dear, for many reasons not only your looks, your love, your passion but your body too, I love all parts of you, and I know how thoughtless people can be, I will protect you from those comments in the future.” Alastor whispers into your head kissing the top of it right after. You caressed his chest with your nails, throwing your leg over his torso. “Thank you Alastor. I love you too, hell there’s nothing that would make me not love you.” Alastor scoffed his grin returning. “Even murder?” He questioned angling his neck to the side to meet your eyes. Smiling up at him you gave a point nod. “Even murder.”
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exhaslo · 5 months
Note
Hi love! How are you? I’m so in love with your writing and I wanted to see if you could write something for me? 🥺 (only if your requests are open.)
I was wondering if you could write a Sugar daddy!Miguel? The reader is working at little club and notices her one night working, running all over the place serving drinks to other drunk people. Miguel calls her over for a drink and talks to her for a bit. He tells her “someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t be working in a place like this?” And offers her to be his sugar baby, she’s surprised at his request but takes it. After he spoils her she realizes she starts to have feelings for him and he does too. 🫶🏻💗
Sure thing! This might be late from when you originally requested, but I finally got it done! Haha. I won't do too much of a age difference, since I'm not too comfortable with large age gaps, but hell, sugar daddies can be the same age too!
Right??
Warning: Fluff, language, teasing, fluff fluff and fluff
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Another day, another dollar. That's how you tried to keep motivated. Did it work? No, but your bills sure did play a part in getting your ass off the bed. Being an adult sucked. Where you worked, also sucked; but were you going to quit...Not yet.
Although, you were desperate for something new.
You hated your job. Working at a stripe club, serving drinks to drunk and perverts. It wasn't your ideal choice, but it was the only place that was willing to give you a chance. You couldn't afford to go to college and your bills were too high to wait for anything else.
You had been told by your boss that you'd make more money as a stripper, but to hell with that. You knew the risks and quite frankly, you were afraid to dance half naked in front of so many men. Though, it didn't stop you from getting some tips here and there.
"Another round over here, sweet cheeks!" One of your regulars called out.
You let out a huff, pouring more beers into glasses. Before hitting the floor, you fixed your booty shorts once more and hurried to him. The drinks hit their mouths before you even put them on the table.
"Geez, trying to hit a record? At least let me get them on the table before inhaling them," You teased.
"Drinks from you are too good to not have, baby. I'll take it nice and slow next round if you get on that stage."
"Not even in your dreams, pal." You huffed, walking to the next table.
You hated this place. You hated the customers. Hell, sometimes you hated the pay. It was not enough for the shit you had to deal with on a daily bases.
"(Y/N), VIP guest is requesting you from bring them a popular drink. Doesn't care which one, he just wants you to deliver it. Don't fuck this up." Your shitty manager said over the radio.
"Great."
------------
Miguel let out an obvious sigh, signaling to his brother that he was not happy to be there. He would groan and grunt, but unfortunally Gabriel had gotten used to those noises and somehow tuned Miguel off. Honestly, it was a talent.
Since Miguel was forced to come to the club, he might as well have made the best of it. Miguel grabbed the VIP room and made himself comfortable. His sunglasses making him the center of attention sure did help with keeping Miguel seated in his seat.
He watched the crowds of men cheer towards the strippers, begging for more and throwing their money. Miguel exhaled softly, looking at his private stage. There was no need for him to be here. He should be outside, stopping crime.
"Miggy! Stop being such a brood and have fun!" Gabriel huffed, poking his head into the room. Miguel shrugged,
"I am having fun. See? I'm here."
"Such a bore."
Miguel rolled his eyes towards his brother. He hummed lowly, watching the people in the club. He furrowed his brows, spotting you run around with a scowl on your face. He couldn't help but smile. To think there was someone else in here who was just as unhappy as him.
Miguel pondered to himself. He had been wanting to do something risky lately. That and he was touch starved. Perhaps he could save someone tonight, but in a different matter. Hell, it could be fun too.
Requesting for you, Miguel leaned back in his seat and waited. With his heighten senses, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he heard you cuss under your breathe. By the time you arrived, you had a obvious fake smile against your lips and a tall, colorful drink in your hand,
"Hello! You requested me?" You asked sweetly. Miguel raised a brow as he took a sip of his drink,
"Couldn't help but noticed you working too hard out there," He said smoothly and motioned to the seat across from here, "Your boss can't see us from here. Take a break."
"Ha, you trying to get me fired?"
"Perhaps, if you're willing to listen and take my offer," Miguel said, continuing to force the sweet drink down his throat.
Miguel watched you hesitate before taking a seat. Your clothes were obviously too tight for you.
"So, what's your offer?"
"It's obvious that you're too good and beautiful for this job. So, hear this bored man out," Miguel tried to get you to smile, "I have too much money and not enough to spend it on. Would you allow me to waste it on you?"
"Huh? Like...Have you as my sugar daddy?" You questioned, observing him, "You only look a few years older than me. How can you be that rich?"
"Plenty of ways. I won't have you do anything you don't want. Just a date here or there, and in return you can spend as much money as possible on whatever you want."
"So....just a date in return?" You hesitated and glanced at the club, "I am being punked right?"
"Why would I lie?"
You glanced at the club once more, honestly considering the man's offer. You were desperate and what was the harm in just playing along for a date or two? If you can pay off your bills and get enough money, you could run away if things got too scary.
"Deal, I'm (Y/N)"
"Miguel."
--------------
Part of you still doubted Miguel and his offer. Even as you quit on the spot and held his card in your hand, you still doubted it. It was only until you officially paid off a bill and was asked on a date that it hit you. This was real. You nabbed yourself a Sugar Daddy.
And a hot one at that.
Honestly, you weren't too disappointed with your situation. Miguel was really kind to you and didn't ask for much. Your first few dates were honestly some of the best you've ever had. The most you did was hold hands and a small peck on the cheek here and there. It was sweet and simple.
You really only used his money to pay off your bills and do some small groceries here and there. Honestly, you were more into having another date with Miguel. He actually listened to you and took care of you. Something that made your heart flutter.
"Hey, Miguel, want to come over to my place tonight? I'll make dinner." You asked him over the phone.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. I want you to come over," You said with a smile as you cleaned your apartment, "I want you to try my cooking for once."
"Then I'll be there."
---------
Miguel was honestly surprised by your request. He was new to this whole Sugar Daddy business and was enjoying it for what it was. Your little dates gave him energy after a long day of Alchemax and the Spider Society.
Your little touches made him want more. Honestly, Miguel was having a hard time holding back. He was enjoying this too much and wanted more from you, but that was not part of the deal. Miguel didn't want to push you away.
Swinging around the city, Miguel tried to think of ways to approach you in the matter. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to tell you that he liked you, but what if you didn't? Miguel only approached you because of how beautiful you were and how much you looked like you needed a break.
This wasn't part of the deal.
"But please say yes."
----------
You could feel the sweat on your palms as you finished prepping dinner. You even wore a sexy dress to get Miguel's attention. Hearing your door bell, you hurried over and let Miguel inside. You greeted Miguel and pecked his cheek, hiding your blush.
"Um, don't mind the mess." You motioned him inside. Miguel tried his best to keep his hands to himself,
"It looks fine. You on the other hand, beautiful." He hummed. You hurried to the table, placing the plate before him, "Smells amazing. You truly didn't have too."
"Like I said...I wanted too." You sat beside Miguel, watching his reaction, "I can only thank you for much. I want to show more of my appreciation."
"You don't have too, baby," Miguel rubbed your head, "I chose to take care of you."
"And if...I want more?"
"Money?"
"No!" You nearly yelled and inhaled deeply, "Sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice, but I'm not that greedy. I was wondering if maybe, I can give you more....affection."
"I don't want to force you to-"
"I want too!" You told Miguel, grabbing his hand, "Miguel, we've been in this relationship for about two months now. You've done so much for me and honestly...I really, really like you. I want to be with you and kiss you and-"
Miguel was the one to interrupted you this time as he pulled you into a kiss. Both of his hands cupped your cheeks, holding you in place. He could feel shivers run down his spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
This was what he needed. What he wanted. Thank whatever God listened, but Miguel was grateful that you shared his feelings in return. Breaking the kiss, Miguel stroked your lips and hummed in response,
"You are such a good girl for me," He whispered. You rested your forehead against his,
"You know, I never mentioned how much of a turn on that is whenever you say it."
You couldn't help but laugh as Miguel immediately grew flustered. He nudged his side and signaled towards his plate. Miguel cleared his throat and finished his meal alongside you. Once the two of you were done, you both decided to watch a movie.
More like make out on the couch.
Your Sugar Daddy soon turned into your 'Daddy' really quick. You now had new bills to worry about, aka pain killers and muscle relaxers because Miguel was a beast in bed.
But hell, it was worth quitting your job for him.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waaaaaah, I hope you liked it!!!!
@tojishugetiddies
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heartfullofleeches · 3 months
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dilf bull/hound darling: i’ve been used as a breeder before but i’d love to find someone special to connect with and start a future together you know?
kaimana [heard breeder and got so hard he got nauseous]: i think i hauve Covid
Former Breeder Darling takes a trip out to the beach nearby where the farm they used to work/live on. They strike up a conversation with an attendee at one of the bar stands. The guys a little awkward, but sweet - they guess he didn't have much interaction with others before he got the job and was still getting the hang of things. He noticeably becomes a whole lot clumsier when Darling mentions the details of their past career and current goal.
"So - what brings you out here, Stranger?"
"There's a farm a bit up north from here.. Worked there almost my entire adult life. Job was starting to get to my head so I quit."
"Oh, is that so? I try not to head too far from home, but now I'm starting to regret that. What type of work did you do?"
"I was a breeder.....on top of some manual labor.'
The glass Kaimana held slips from his hands.
"Holy..... You good, Kai?"
K....Kai?? You're giving him nicknames already?? Kaimana grabs the broom propped against the wall behind him - using it to support his wobbly legs instead of cleaning the shards of broken glass at his feet. "Y-yes, I'm fine!... Please continue."
"Eh, not much more to say. Whenever someone needed some assistance having a kid I helped out. Didn't think much of it when I was younger. Paid good, and I got to live on the farm for next to nothing which allowed me to save up over the years.... I had no attachment to it till I received some photos of one of my kids... Well... Not my kid, but their folks were nice enough to send them... It got me thinking... about a family of my own."
You look up from your glass to find Kaimana frantically scribbling something on a napkin.
"My number! .... I-if you'd like to keep in touch. Have you found a place of receidence yet? I know a lovely hotel closeby. I can take you there!- W-we could get to know each other a little better - maybe or dinner or-or a nice bottle of wine."
You chuckle. "Dinner sounds good. Been meaning to try some of the seafood this area is know for.. You should probably clean up that glass though."
You're probably right about that. If he faints atop a pile of glass he'll have to miss your date getting stitches! It's a somewhat difficult for him to move with one particular area of his clothing so drenched in his own fluids.
"Y...yes... dear.... Dear customer, I mean!... haha..."
"Cute." You down the rest of your drink and pull a few bills from your pocket, tucking the napkin in that same sleeve as you stand from the counter. "See you later, Kai."
Kai waves as you depart. He wouldn't call it a goodbye as he'd see you soon enough.
"See you.... Honey."
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hotyanderedaddies · 4 months
Text
Yandere Werewolf Boyfriend with a Playful Darling Who Teases Him
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[Yandere! Werewolf x GN Playful! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
You first met your boyfriend, Alaric, about a year ago when you started attending the local community college. You were working on your Veterinary Assistant Certification, while he was there getting some general education requirements out of the way.
It was love at first sight--
Well, on Alaric's end.
The exact millisecond his eyes landed on you, he knew that you were meant to be his, and his alone. Hence, he immediately began to follow you around campus, trying to learn more about you so that he could begin to court you.
When he found out that you wanted to be a veterinary assistant because of your love for animals, he felt like he had an ace in the hole given his werewolf status.
You love animals, and he's technically an animal; therefore, you were bound to love him (it made sense in his head).
He mustered up the courage to ask you out on a date, to which you surprisingly said "Yes".
Alaric took you to a nice restaurant and then took you to see the monster movie you'd been wanting to see for a while... you thought that it was serendipitous how this cute guy seemed to know where you loved to eat and just what genre of films you loved.
As the night was coming close to an end, Alaric decided to use the big guns, and he revealed to you that he's a werewolf.
Of course you didn't believe it, thinking that he was joking, but then he phased into his wolf form, looking like an overgrown dog with fuzzy ears and big paws.
Alaric half-expected you to run, to scream, to be afraid of him. And he steeled his muscles, getting ready to chase you down if you dared tried to leave--
"Haha!" you giggled, surprising the werewolf. His eyes widened when you actually reached up with a tender hand and gave him a little scratch behind the ear. "Aww, such a good boy."
Alaric jerked back for a second, swallowing down a growl at the thought of being seen as some kind of puppy. He was a big, tough werewolf with enough strength to tear a human being to shreds, not some cute pup!
As time went on, Alaric of course was over the moon that you were now his, but he would sometimes get irked whenever you decided to playfully tease him.
You didn't do it to be mean, you genuinely thought that it was cute how you would ask your boyfriend if he wanted to go for walkies, and his face would get all red and he'd mutter that he wasn't a puppy under his breath.
...but he'd still go on a walk with you.
"You want some head pats?" you would laugh as you'd run your fingers through Alaric's hair.
Alaric would stifle a growl, but just silently glare at you until you'd stop laughing-- but he'd still expect those head pats.
One night, the two of you were cuddling on the couch, watching some trashy reality show when you couldn't resist.
A smirk already on your face, you placed a small hand on Alaric's muscled chest. "Does my big boy want a belly rub?" you chuckled, using the voice you used whenever you'd coo at puppies.
You loved it how red Alaric's face got, and he tried to avoid making direct eye contact with you. "Darling," he huffed in a controlled voice, "I told you, for the thousandth time, I am a man-eating werewolf. I'm not a puppy." To illustrate his point, he flashed his massive canine teeth and gestured down at his enormous paws that were capped with sharp claws.
You playfully stuck out your lower lip and ran your hand up and down his chest, noting how he winced and immediately melted into your touch.
"Aww, don't be like that," you cooed. "Who's my good boy?"
Alaric's blush deepened and you could clearly see his sweatpants start to tent.
When he didn't say anything, you retracted your hand, but froze when Alaric's arm shot out. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist and tugged it back down to his chest so you could give him more belly rubs.
"Me," Alaric blushed, "I'm a good boy."
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fragileruns · 6 months
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Hii, I saw your last post and I thought why not send a request? Here is my idea: single dad!Spencer/Reader. Spencer brings his daughter to the BAU during a paperwork day, his daughter meets Reader for the first time. Reader is not used to being around children, so they (you can keep it gender neutral if you want to) are a bit awkward aand shy. But of course Spencer's daughter wants to be their friend because Spencer always tells his daughter how amazing Reader is. I'll leave the rest up to your imagination, thank you for reading and writing this, I'm sure it will turn out better than I imagined <33
i’m so sorry this is actually awful because i’m also terrible with kids and have no idea how situations go about with them haha - hopefully it’s somewhat what you wanted, though!
spencer reid x bau!reader. featuring his daughter, derek, brief mention of emily, y/n & spencer being flustered over their situationships, reader is mentioned to have a bunny, i think that’s it? it’s just fluff
You thought you had to be imagining things when you heard a voice - one that could only belong to a little kid - ask “Which one’s Y/N?”
You weren’t, and one glance around the room confirmed that. You saw Spencer bent down, messing with a little girl’s hair, who you could only assume was his daughter. Once he looked up to point over at you and gave you an almost apologetic smile, your eyes widened and you realized too late what was happening.
“Be nice, okay? Don’t be too crazy.” You could hear him tell you, and your nerves were fighting with you as you tried to plan for what was going to happen. What are you supposed to say to a little kid? You hardly knew what to say to people your age.
“‘M always nice, Dad,” The little girl sighed with a slight huff as he still held onto her and he only chuckled, placing a kiss to the top of her head before he let her go. Immediately, she was rushing over to you with a grin.
“Y/N!” She sounded so excited that you almost questioned if you were some sort of child tv show star. Why would she even be looking for you? You’ve never met.
“Hi, Max. Right?” You smiled down at her, and she nodded eagerly. You could hear Spencer’s footsteps approaching, and you were thankful that at least if you were a total bore to her, he could save her.
“Daddy told me that you, um, that you got a new bunny. Can I see it?”
You nodded and went to grab your phone to show her the pictures you got, and you almost wanted to laugh at the innocence of the interaction. You didn’t expect a child to be so eager just to see pictures of your new pet.
You also didn’t expect for you to be a topic of conversation in the Reid household, and Spencer seemed to fluster at the idea of you knowing as much.
“She just - she really likes bunnies, so when you were showing pictures the other day, I wanted to - yeah. I just told her,” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and you smiled up at him before turning back to his daughter.
“You can come see him one day, maybe. If your dad’s okay with bringing you over.”
You and Spencer both seemed surprised at your invitation, and you weren’t entirely sure where it had come from. Spencer had never been to your house before. It seemed too intimate, almost, for the weird type of situationship you two found yourself in.
Max gasped with excitement and turned up to her father, “Please? Can we go today, Dad? Please please please?”
“I don’t think they meant today, sweetheart. Maybe some other day though, okay?” He tried to calm the little girl, before turning back to you. “If you’re really okay with that.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” You grinned, placing your phone back on your desk now that Max was done swiping through the pictures.
Derek walked by then, and as soon as he came up to your desk and noticed the little girl standing there, he made a dramatic gasp. “Max? Since when did you get to be a giant?”
She giggled and quickly ran for his legs, tackling into them with a tight hug, “Hi, Uncle Derek.”
You were thankful for the reprieve, worried that now you didn’t have the prospect of seeing a bunny in your conversation, you’d have nothing else to say to her.
“Daddy’s gonna take me to see Y/N’s bunny.” She said, the child in her shining through at the need to tell every little thing, but you didn’t mind. You sort of liked that you had something to make her so excited.
Derek looked up at the two of you with a grin, and you both knew what was coming. He had been too eager to tease the two of you about being ‘lovebirds’ even when you vehemently denied it. This was only more fuel.
“You sure you’re invited to go with him?” Derek had questioned, but Max didn’t understand the implication.
“‘Course I am, Uncle Derek. It’s a bunny.”
“Yeah, Derek. It’s a bunny.” You spoke up, eyes narrowed at him in a way that told him not to push it further, but the chuckle that left him told you he wasn’t done.
“Hey, kiddo, why don’t we go see Aunt Emily? Let your dad and Y/N keep planning their date.”
“It’s not-” Spencer had started but Derek looked at him with an innocent expression.
“Playdate, obviously. For Max and the bunny.” Spencer’s cheeks were flushed pink, and yours were too, as Derek broke into a grin.
“Yeah, Dad. Obviously.” Max mimicked before eagerly following after Derek to find Emily, leaving you and Spencer avoiding eye contact with equally red cheeks.
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koolades-world · 15 days
Text
ok thought!
big brother mammon who acts like one to lucifer too because lucifer deserves to have someone to lean on too! this post was totally inspired by rock on haha
imagine this:
mammon dragging luci home after a night out drinking with a tenderness only an older brother would know despite the frustration at his stupidity
mammon bringing luci dinner after he spent his evening working and trying to disguise his worry
mammon cleaning up luci’s coffee cups and messes around the house so he’s able to enjoy a clean space
mammon buy luci his favorite candle scent and leaving it on his desk without a note
mammon picking up luci’s chores without letting him know after he knows he had a hard day so he gets a nice surprise when he goes to do them
mammon "scheming" with diavolo to surprise luci in all sorts of ways
just all the things mammon would never say to luci's face, but wants him to know he cares <3
"Ya know, for the little brother in this relationship, I feel like I'm draggin' ya home a lot more than I should. Getting wasted at Lord Diavolo's party isn't exactly a great look for ya." Mammon was carrying his older brother, Lucifer, on his back. They'd just left Diavolo's birthday party. As the right hand man to the Prince of Hell, Lucifer was obviously by his side the entire time. Every time someone offered Diavolo a drink, Lucifer would take it and down it himself to avoid him getting wasted and acting afool at his own party. The gesture was sweet, but of course it resulted in Lucifer getting wasted himself.
Mammon had been enjoying dancing with Mc when the two of them noticed Lucifer begin to act overly emotional and erratically. He was leaning heavily into Diavolo's side, looking close to tears and telling him he loved him. Beel was nowhere in sight, so Mammon knew he had to step up to the plate. While he didn't want to leave Mc alone, he knew one of his brothers would be willing to take his place. He flagged down which ever of his brothers that he saw first, which happened to be Satan, who was conversing with someone Mammon presumed he knew. After explaining the situation, Mammon left with Lucifer in tow behind him. As bum hurt he was about having to call it a night earlier than he'd wanted to, since he'd planned to stay at that party all night without a break, he knew Lucifer needed him more.
With his older brother on his back with a little help from Satan and Mc, Mammon set off on his way home. Mc had been the group's designated driver of that night, yet for some reason he didn't think to ask Mc to just drive them home. So, he resolved to walking because going back in would be too embarrassing, but it wasn't too far to home. The walk was mostly uneventful, besides Lucifer's sniffling and incoherent babbling. A few times he went off on a rant, and all Mammon did was nod and ask vague questions.
Once they got home, Mammon was quick to bring Lucifer upstairs. After opening the door to his room, he put Lucifer down on his bed. While the bed was made, a few empty cups and a large stack of papers sat on his bedside table. If it hadn't been for Diavolo's party, Mammon wasn't sure Lucifer would have left his room. He picked up the cups and moved the paperwork out of the way. He got a set of pajamas for his brother, and instructed him to go change, while he went back downstairs to get some water for him.
"Here. Drink this." Mammon passed the water to Lucifer, who was sitting on the edge of his bed and miraculously fully dressed. He took the glass without a word and drank half of it in one go. "How are ya feelin'?" He stood in front of him, hands on his hips.
"I'm tired." Lucifer told him. He then flopped over onto his back on his bed. With a sigh, Mammon rolled him onto his side and sat beside him.
"Get some rest then. I'll be here." Mammon's D.D.D. was dead, so he set it down on the bed beside him since Lucifer's D.D.D. was currently charging. Lucifer shut his eyes pretty quickly and Mammon thought he was asleep. Resolved to just sitting there, waiting, Mammon began to think about that night of fun he'd have before. He loved Lucifer, but the choice to drink that recklessly was stupid. But, it was because he cared so much, he was willing to make a fool of himself to prevent that same thing from happening to Diavolo, and potentially help him avoid harm. Mammon wasn't sure how many drinks he'd had, or what was in them.
The phone ringing interrupted his train of thought. His was dead, so he looked over to Lucifer's to see Mc was calling. After picking it up, he was greeted with Mc with the sound of the party in the background. "Hello?" They said.
"Hey, Mc. Somethin' the matter? Lucifer is asleep." Mammon held the phone to his ear, trying to keep his voice down.
"Oh, sorry. No, everything is fine. Just wanted to check up on you. Everything good there?" They lowered their voice.
"Yeah, thanks for checkin'. What time will ya be home? If ya know." Mammon looked over at Lucifer, who still hadn't moved.
"Soon. Belphie is asleep in a corner and Beel ate everything already, so they're tapped out. Asmo is still going, but I can pry him away easily, and Satan is ready to go when I am. I actually haven't seen Levi, but I assume he's in a side room somehere." Mc chuckled a little into the phone, presumably at something they saw.
"Alright. I'm stayin' with Lucifer. See ya later." Mammon waited for his goodbye to put down the phone. Once he did, he hung up and plugged it back in. He peered at Lucifer's face again. He looked normal, so he let himself begin to think again. This time, he didn't get far at all.
"Mammon?" Lucifer spoke up.
"Aren't ya supposed to be asleep?" Mammon looked back at him again. He was awake now, his crimson eyes searching his face.
"I don't say thank you enough." Mammon was taken aback by his words.
"Sorry?" Mammon blinked.
"Thank you. You really do care." With that, Lucifer shut his eyes again. Mammon was a little shocked, but smiled to himself. Lucifer could be so sweet when he wanted to be, but it just took a little Demonus in his system to make him say what he was thinking.
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