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#yk to make a heart beat again
omgeto · 7 months
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☆ GHOSTING — GETO SUGURU X READER
summary: after being made aware of your long term ex boyfriends plans to 'fix' the world, you knew that you had to try and stop him. but seeing him for the first time in a decade; all the love, the hate, the heartbreak comes right back to you both and you realise you care about him a lot more than you thought.
wc: 4.7k (of pure goodness....)
cw: afab!reader, mdni, angst to fluff (kinda) cult leader ex boyfriend!geto, kinda sorta canon (its the day that geto yk...) he eats you out like its his last meal, half hate fucking, full making love, and a whole lot of geto being culty and cunty. this one has a plot people!!
authors note: guys yk I love a good exes to lovers fic so the argument in this one hits different and the whole idea of you and suguru breaking up just before he runs off to run his cult really gets to me, so I hope you enjoy this one.
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geto suguru hasn’t seen you in years, in almost a decade, and is still reeling harshly from how you left him when he needed you. but somehow he finds himself rushing to meet you when he gets the four word text from your number—which is still saved in his phone under ‘my girl’— saying, ‘we need to talk.’
he knows exactly what you want to speak about, he could easily put together why today of all days you’d want to see —after vanishing him for just over a decade. he figured gojo probably gave word to you, as from when you’ve been young and growing up together, you’ve all known that if gojo couldn’t get through to him, you could.
he opens the door to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have locked it—you always had a habit of leaving it open for him. and there you are, standing in the dimly lit room, waiting for his arrival. the years have etched subtle changes onto your face and in your demeanour, but the essence of who you are remains unchanged. time may have separated you, but in this moment, it feels as though it has never passed.
“you can't do this,” is the first thing you say, your voice steady despite the unexpected surge of emotions upon seeing him again. you didn't think seeing him after all this time would affect you, but it did. his hair is longer, his frame more imposing, but that unmistakable smirk remains, a haunting reminder of the man you once knew.
“wow right to the chase,” he chuckles bitterly, his presence taking up the room as he enters the room further, “i forgot you never really had a thing for beating around the bush.”
you meet his bitter chuckle with a steady gaze, your resolve unwavering. the years of separation have done nothing to diminish the intensity of your connection, the push and pull between you two.
"it's not the time for games, suguru," you reply, your tone serious. "you know why i called you here."
he sighs, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. the weight of his plans, the burden he carries, is evident in the lines etched on his face. "i figured you'd call sooner or later."
the room seems to shrink as the gravity of the situation hangs between you. the man you once knew, the one who could make your heart race with a smile, now stands before you, shrouded in darkness.
"i won't let you go through with this," you say firmly, your eyes never leaving his. "there's another way, suguru. there has to be."
for a moment, his façade cracks, and you catch a glimpse of the person he used to be, the one who believed in a better world. but then the hardness returns to his eyes, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming.
"you always were too idealistic," he mutters, almost to himself. "but i can't turn back now. the world needs this change."
"what happened to you?" you snap out, your words laced with a bitter edge that hangs heavily in the air. it's a question that carries the weight of your years of frustration, anger, and confusion. but you knew what happened to him; everyone knew.
his reaction is immediate, and the room seems to tremble with his anger. his gaze narrows, and the atmosphere becomes charged with tension. "you don't get to ask that," he spits out, his voice dripping with bitterness. "you left, remember? you abandoned me when i needed you the most."
“it wasn’t like that,” you argue, leaning forward, your body tense. “by the time i left you were already gone, being physically present in a relationship doesn’t mean anything if your mind is fucking checked out all the time. at that point i was just dating a shell of you.” 
“is that how you justify it?" he retorts, his anger unabated. "you think leaving was the solution?”
you clench your fists, your own anger rising to meet his. "i did what i had to do to protect myself, suguru. you were spiralling, consumed by your own darkness. I couldn't save you"
his eyes blaze with a mixture of fury and hurt. "you think i needed saving?
“you still need saving,” you scoff gesturing to him standing right in front of you, “just because you couldn’t save—”
“don’t even go there,” he interrupts, his hand raising to stop you. he knew you were talking about riko, “i’ve made peace with that.”
“oh have you?” you accuse, “since it seems to me, you’ve been on a killing spree, ever since.”
“other people died y’know,” he hisses out, “remember haibara? he was your fucking friend, but you weren’t even there.”
“this isn’t about me,” you say disregarding his comment, regret seeping through you, “you think i haven’t kept tabs on you since i’ve been away. who have you become?”
he glares at you, his anger evident. "i've become what the world needs," he snaps, his voice heavy. "someone willing to do what it takes to change things."
"and is killing a village full of people the way to do that?" you challenge, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "killing your..." You pause, overwhelmed by the thoughts and images of what he's done. "was killing your parents worth it?"
his expression hardens, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by his resolve. "i had to make sacrifices," he says coldly. "it's a small price to pay for a greater cause."
“you can’t truly think that,” you say, taking a step closer to him, your fists still clenched at your sides. “how did it feel killing them then? to take away the lives of your own parents who were innocent?” you probe, you knew that there was some part of him that must feel bad.”
“you’re about… ten years too late to be trying to have this conversation with me,” he shrugs, the turmoil that geto felt when he first set out on his mission has ceased. the guilt he felt for killing his parents, even the grief he had for something that he caused, wasn’t a factor for him anymore.
your frustration boils over as you press him further. "so, you've become heartless, then?" you challenge. the room seems to tighten around you as you await his response. "a cold-blooded killer who's convinced himself that the ends justify the means?"
geto's gaze narrows, his patience dwindling. "it's not about being heartless. it's about doing what's necessary to achieve our goals."
"your goals," you emphasise, "not mine. and not the goals of the innocent people you've hurt along the way."
he sighs, exasperation creeping into his voice. "you always had a way of making everything so complicated, questioning every choice. you left because you couldn't handle the real world."
you shake your head, unwilling to accept his justifications. "no, i left because i couldn't stand by and watch you become a monster."
“so i’m just a monster, yeah?” he retorts, stepping towards you, his anger evident across his face, you could see your words triggered him, and as he gets closer you could feel your facade faltering. 
your heart races as he approaches, and you raise a hand instinctively, palm out, to signal him to stop. "don't come any closer," you warn, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. there was no rational reason to be scared of him, you’ve known him for years, and despite everything that he’s done —what he’s become— there was still a part of you that believed that he wouldn’t hurt you.
but geto ignores your plea, his determination unwavering. he grabs your hand firmly, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment. his dark eyes bore into yours, and he speaks in a low, taunting tone, "why? are you scared that with me being this close, you're going to realise that you loved a monster? that you're still in love with him?"
you grit your teeth, refusing to let him get under your skin. "suguru, you don't get to manipulate me with your twisted version of love," you retort, your voice laced with defiance. "i won't let you use my feelings against me.
his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're torn between the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. the memories of the love you once shared, the pain of his transformation into something unrecognisable, and the lingering attraction between you all crash together in this charged moment.
you try to pull your hand away, to regain control of the situation, but geto's grip tightens, preventing your escape. his face inches closer to yours, and despite your better judgement, your breath hitches. “manipulation, huh?” geto muses, his mouth so close to yours that you feel his breath faintly brush across your lips. you look up at him through your lowered eyelashes, and in that fleeting pause, so small that it’s almost imperceptible, you find yourself considering the gravity of your actions, if only for a moment.
the feeling of doubt is short lived, as you press your lips against geto’s, his mouth immediately moulding into yours. the kiss is searing, as you push your bodies against each other, he releases your hand from his grip, his hands move to cradle your head, holding it in place as he deepens the kiss, bruising your lips with his.
everything about geto is familiar, the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the way he consumes you. his tongue explores yours, wrestling for control as your arms scratch at him trying to tug off his robe. you wanted him to feel you, all of you—your touch, your lips, your hurt, your anger, the love that you still have that you thought was small. but after seeing him, kissing him, you realise is still an overwhelmingly large part of you.
you pull apart to catch your breath, staring hard at each other, but there’s barely a moment wasted before your back on eachother. kissing each other feverishly, as you rip off each other's clothes, he pushes you hard, your back slamming against the nearest piece of furniture as his mouth latches onto your neck. his kisses cascade down your body, stopping at your breasts as he unhooks your bra, tossing it aside.
“i missed these,” he murmurs, as his lips descend onto your tits, his face nuzzling at your chest as he sucks and pulls at your nipples with his teeth. “and i missed this,” he continues to mumble, his hands cupping your clothed pussy, his finger lightly caressing your slit. 
you arch forward into his touch, wanting to feel him more and chuckles saying, “even after all these years, you still respond to my touch just the same.” his fingers plunge into your panties, brushing against your clit and he smirks as your lips part a stifled moan escaping your lips—proving his point.
“s-shut up,” you hiss out, as you slowly start to gyrate against his fingers. although it was obvious from the way you were already soaking your underwear, you didn’t want to admit how good he is actually making you feel—you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. geto raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, as he watches you bite your lip trying to contain your moans, as his fingers inch into your inviting pussy.
geto’s body moves down yours as he removes his lips from your tits, continues to press kisses down your stomach, as he drops down to his knees —his eyes level with your cunt. he presses a kiss to your covered pussy, before sliding off your panties. his mouth is just about to latch onto you but he pauses looking up at you, his gaze unwavering, “you want this right?” you nod slowly, your anticipation brewing as your eyes lock onto his, “use your words.”
you release an exasperated huff, but he remains steadfast, his raised eyebrow a silent declaration that he won't act until you tell him what he wants to hear. the room seems to pulse with tension, the growing desire between you mounting with each heartbeat.
your hands slide it’s way into his hair, pushing your fingers through his scalp, as you grin, you voice is low and sultry as you say, “i want it.” his mouth envelopes your pussy and you push his head into you deeper, forcing your nose into your arousal. he inhales you, taking in your scent as he presses his face in your cunt. 
“such a pretty pussy,” he mutters lowly, you could feel the vibrations spread through your pussy. his tongue strokes down your slit, before pushing into you, he twists and slurps at you trying to suck out all of your juices. 
geto nibbles at your clit, tugging at it with his teeth before bringing his fingers back to cunt. shoving two fingers in roughly. you pull his hair harshly, the feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit leaving your mind blank. “ah f-fuck,” you cry out, as geto’s strokes grow more intense.
“c’mon let me hear you more,” geto prompts, pulling away slightly from your pussy, his lips plump and coated from your wetness. he grabs one of your legs and hikes it over his shoulder, the angle allowing him to force his fingers into you further, curling them up in your pussy as he goes back to shoving his face in your sobbing cunt.
you grind your pussy in his face, working with him in getting you off. both of your movements were frantic, geto is eating your pussy with such eagerness, hungrily trying to drink all of your cum. “i’m close s-sugu i’m—” you choke out, feeling yourself slipping down the wall you pressed against, but geto holds you upright, his large hand keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder and roughly pushing you up against the wall.
geto grins against your cunt, your moans and cries is a sound he didn’t realise how much he missed until he heard them now. you laboured breathing, stammered sentences told him that you were reading cum, but he just had to push you further. so he adds one more finger, sending it straight to your spot, twisting and pushing it in your pussy so hard that tears brim your eyes. he was so relentless, you always loved that about him, how he knows your body in and out, he knew exactly where to touch, and just how far he should push to have you becoming a mess for him.
you couldn’t take him anymore, so you cum, hard. your pussy releasing ropes and ropes of cum, all over geto’s fingers and his face, and he laps at it, munching all your cum with excitement. “i know you can give me more than that,” he muses, pressing his thumb down on your clit, rubbing at it aggressively as you cum. your eyes roll back, as he repeatedly flicks at your cum, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face.
geto’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t stop playing with your pussy, until you bow your head in submission, worn out from all the cum you’ve released over him. your hands slide out of his hair, as you try and catch your breath and geto peppers your cunt and your thighs with kisses finally letting your thigh come off his shoulders. “damn your pussy’s still as sweet as ever.”
“stop with the talking,” you mumble, as you pull him up to his feet, your lips forcing their way back onto him. your hands frantically explore each other's bodies as you drag him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed. “i can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter to yourself, your denial evident, as you straddle him, pulling his dick out of his boxers.
you pause briefly at the sight, his thick, long dick staring at you. you hear geto chuckle at your reaction, your eyes meet his with a challenging look exchanged between you, he raises his eyebrow at you, a silent dare on whether you’ll actually be able to get the control that you’re aiming to have. 
you hover over his dick, your pussy still dripping, geto bites his lip in anticipation as you tease him, slowly edging yourself down onto him. your pussy greedily, takes in his dick as you force yourself down on him as immediately fills you, stretching out your cunt with one push. you start to ride him, hard and fast, rocking your body forward as you bounce up and down on him, your hand pressing down on his stomach to keep you steady.
geto sits up, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt clench around his dick with everyone of your movements. he tries to thrust up into you, but he just can’t match the relentless rhythm you had, “f-fuck,” he exhales, a moan escaping his mouth, and you smirk —you have him just where you wanted him.
“you alright there suguru?” you mock, the grin spread across your face unmissable as you grind yourself down against him, tightening your pussy around his pole as you slid up and down. the bite on his lip hardens as he pulls it further between his teeth to suppress another moan.
but geto doesn’t submit for long, his hand slaps you across your tits and his fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and tugging them, causing you to arch your back as you wail. “d’you r-really think you run shit here?” he groans, flicking at your nipples with every word, “you’ll never be in control, not with me,” he taunts.
“oh really?” you retort, as you still continue to move your ass, meeting his hips. you can feel him start to pick up his pace, trying to match yours, his hips slightly thrusting upwards, his dick pushing into you deeper.
“yeah,” he says confidently through gritted teeth, one of his hands pulling away from your nipples and onto your ass, harshly grabbing one of your cheeks to steady himself as he drills into you further, “because you’re still my girl.” 
you still at his words, you knew he didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help but react to the name that he always used to refer to you as. geto could see your eyes become vacant, as you think back to the memories when you were truly his girl. you used to revel in that —the feeling of being his. he takes advantage of your pause, your rhythm halted as he takes over, now setting the pace as he charges his dick into you, stuffing you further. 
“suguru f-fuck you’re so—” you sob out, as he breaks down your wall, his strokes hitting your spot perfectly. your body buckles, crumbling at the force that geto was using as he repeatedly thrusts into you, his hand pushing you in further so his dick can get an even better angle in you.
“i’m so what?” he retorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to string an answer together from the way he is fucking you dumb. geto couldn’t deny that he is getting some joy out seeing you all drunk on his dick, reduced to nothing but moans and incoherent sentences, he liked being the one to break you down. “am i still a monster, someone you can’t stand being around?”
you sloppily nod your head, trying to keep some resolve, but your efforts are pointless since all the insults and accusations you were spouting earlier are now futile, you lost your care in getting him to do the right thing, all you want now is for him to stay like this — inside of you. 
“s-shit i can’t take it a-anymore im gonna cu—” you force out, clenching yourself around little his dick hard as you feel your orgasm building up. but geto’s movements stop for a second as he pulls his dick out of you, flipping you over, your back landing hard on your bed. he leans over you, his focus fixed on you, but at this point, his eyes don’t hold the same heartache, and hurt that they did when he first stepped into your house. the geto that is looking at you now, is the one who’d always look at you everyday, ten years ago —with love and longing.
he strokes his dick down your aching pussy, teasing you with it, but just before he puts it in, his hand caresses your face cupping your chin as he says, “when i said you were still my girl, i meant it y’know?” and your lips part in surprise at his admission. “although it hurt me, when you left me, you just never stopped being my girl.”
“suguru i-i don’t know what to say,” you stammer, and you didn’t realise until he swipes under your eye, that you were crying. there was so much more to your relationship with geto than just some highschool romance, you loved another, and no one could tell you otherwise. 
“tell me that you are,” he prompts, now pressing kisses to your tear stained face, his lips moving down to yours, “tell me that you are still my girl,” he finishes in between kisses. his hopeful eyes still remain on yours, and you could feel him slowly inching his dick into you.
you wrap your legs around his back, your arms hooking around his neck as you pull his head next to yours, your mouth near his ear as you whisper, “i am still yours.” he pushes his dick back into you, his strokes deep and slow. it was different from before, there was no competition or hate between you as you fucked, you didn’t have a point to prove other than the fact that you still loved each other. 
geto’s moans are loud, he has nothing to hold back as he growls lowly in your ear. the way he holds you, and takes his time kisses you and fucking you as if he was accounting for this potentially being his last ever time doing so. “i’ll never get enough of this.”
“then don’t go,” you whine, and your words hold a deeper meaning that you both knew but won’t acknowledge knowing it is pointless to discuss any further. you pull him into you deeper, your thighs clenching around him as your hold tightens. 
the feeling of you pulling him in, has him clenching his eyes as your pussy takes him in, his mouth takes yours in a powerful kiss, before he mumbles “you gonna let me cum in you, leave you with every last bit of me.” you don’t even respond, just deepening the kiss, your head shaking in agreement.
you both cum together, geto spraying your walls as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your exposed flesh as he continues to shoot ropes of cum inside of you. you claw at his back as you feel all of him enter you, your cum mixing with his as you cry out in full pleasure.
his forehead rests against yours, as the last bits of his cum enter you and neither of you say anything, all that can be heard is just heavy breaths coming from the both of you. you didn’t know what was to happen now, there was still so much left unsaid, unresolved and things have changed now that geto is literally stuffed inside of you.
geto is about to pull out of you finally, but you stop him muttering a faint, “stay,” and he does. he knows he had somewhere to be, things to do that are bigger than the both of you, but he just couldn’t leave when you ask him to stay. he manoeuvres your body so that you now lay atop him, comfortably cockwarming him as he thumb brushes gentle strokes down your arm.
“y’know i’ve got these two girls, who i think would love you,” he muses.
“what? did you manage to become a father whilst i was away?” you tease.
“something like that, yeah,” he mumbles, a small smile forming on his face as thoughts of nanako and mimiko flash through his mind — they’re a bittersweet reminder of the new life he’s built without you, one that you wouldn’t be able to fit in. it wasn’t that long ago that you’d have thoughts about geto fathering your own kids, dreams of somewhat of a domestic life that you’d now never get to have with him.
“well maybe i can meet them,” you say non-committedly.
“yeah maybe…” his voice falters, as you both know that it would never happen.
“do you enjoy it then?” you ask, “this ‘new’ life of yours.” you could tell just by the brief mention of nanako and mimiko and the way he carries himself that he does enjoy his life, but you were hoping that he’d still answer no.
geto hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he contemplates your question, “i…” he begins, his gaze returning to yours, “i won’t lie. it’s different, and there’s moments i find true solace in it, this has been my life for a long time now, so it’s just something i’ve really gotten used to.”
“and you’re happy to go back to it, after this?” your question is loaded, and you feel dumb for even asking but when you did call him over to get him to not go through with his plans, of course your motivations have slightly changed, but your goal is still the same. 
 “i don’t think you should ask me to make a choice, knowing that im not going to choose you,” he grits out, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but 
“you’re not gonna win you know, satoru wouldn’t let it happen,” you couldn’t help yourself, the rejection he just gave you stung, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.
but geto doesn’t bite, he knows you’re hurting—that he’s the cause of it, so he lets you hurt, his hold tightening comfortably as you sulk in his arms. geto places a kiss on your temple, ignoring your comment as he concludes, “let’s just not, okay?”
geto stays with you until your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, and you don’t notice him slipping out of you. he cleans you up and tucks you into your bedsheets, giving you one final stare as if he’s trying to keep a mental image of how you look when he’s last seen you. his lips meet yours in a final, chaste kiss and he mutters a promise that he didn’t think you’d hear, but you do, stirring awake as his lips leave yours, “i’ll see you again… eventually.”
you wake up to an empty room, the warmth of geto's presence replaced by a stark emptiness. the realisation hits you like a wave of cold water – he's gone, leaving nothing behind but soiled sheets and a hollow ache in your chest. there's no note, no message, no trace of his ever being there, except for the lingering scent of him that clings to the air. you know that someone will eventually inform you of the outcome of the night, but deep down, you already suspect that his last promise to you will end up being broken.
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AN: first like proper proper real juicy fic that ive written in a long time imo and its just like this took me so long since im soooo sensitive about my geto fics and im just like overly critical about my angsty and fluff and plot fics and my smut and JUST EVERYTHING but I managed to get it all done and I think some parts of this really hit hard. the ending is ofc bittersweet since if we go by canon, he goes and yuta beats his fuckinggg ass and he dies wtf but... the true ending is really up to your imagination. (not really) like dont even think about the ending just focus on the fact that they NEVER TELL EACHOTHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BECAUSE UR SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ADMITTING THAT UR STILL 'HIS GIRL' IS ALL THE CONFIRMATION HE NEEDS. my finished an are sooo long why because I FUCKING CAN SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY, PLEASE LMK UR THOUGHTS AND SLAY ALL DAY also thank you @kazushawty and @biscuitsngravie for reading and supporting me 🥹🥹
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luvjunie · 11 months
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— broken promises
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pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader
summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640
contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff
word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love
playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko
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You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don’t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.
It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.
— Miles POV —
Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.
8:03 PM
Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.
Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?
Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.
Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.
*buzz buzz*
Ignored.
*buzz buzz*
*buzz buzz*
He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.
Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.
Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.
He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho
Yeah. Real smooth.
*buzz buzz*
Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.
Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.
Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done
Shit.
His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.
Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?
You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.
Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all
Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.
He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.
“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.
He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.
“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.
His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.
“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”
— Your POV —
8:05 PM
You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.
You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.
Seen
You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.
You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.
You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.
Seen 25 minutes ago
Maybe not.
You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.
____
As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.
Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.
10:15 PM
“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.
He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.
____
You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.
With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.
Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.
He was the first to speak.
“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.
His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.
“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.
He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.
“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.
“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?
He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.
“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.
Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.
He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.
“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.
His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.
“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.
Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.
His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.
“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.
He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.
“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”
“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”
“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.
“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.
“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.
“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.
You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.
That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.
“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.
“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.
You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.
You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.
“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.
You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.
“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.
“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”
“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.
He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.
“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”
Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.
He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.
You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.
“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.
“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.
His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.
But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.
“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”
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- do not copy, plagiarize, or post my works onto a different platform.
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!
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insert-neologism · 1 year
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'unalive' shouldnt be an euphemism for 'kill' but rather like the opposite of 'undead'
Idk what exactly it'd be referncing but thazs so much better
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thegnomelord · 2 months
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yk how they cover fighting dog's eyes in order to calm them down? would that work on Hound or just rile him up more? if it'd calm him down I can imagine when/if he's "better" enough he'd start shoving his face into price or any of the other 141 to feel safer/calm, like nuzzling in between their shoulder blades/neck or if they're lying down together just pushing his head into their arms 😶‍🌫️
hmmm Price holding Hound against his chest to calm him while he claws and begs into his captain's skin for forgiveness because he acted out again, even if Price had already forgiven him🤔
if the loss of sight just makes things worse then I can see all of them always making sure Hound can know where they are, making noise when they can and maybe even dragging their feet a bit so he doesn't swivel his head around constantly to look for them😚 ignore this if u want tho reading it back is making me cringe a bit-
No, no, anon this is great! Y'all are giving me so many ideas♥️
I definitely think Price would have done that to Hound before he got captured, putting his beanie or just his hand over Hound's eyes and talking about Hound like he wasn't even there to basically calm him down. Like you know how you're a kid sitting between your parents and they're talking about you but you're snoozing or something like that. It would have just been comforting for Hound.
But Makarov soured it by using sensory deprivation as a punishment. And a pretty severe one at that, so Hound gets extremely violent when his sight is deprived.
But also like, when Hound's better, letting them cover his eyes as just this huge show of trust just melts my heart. Like:
CW:SFW just a bunch of fluff, cuddle piles
This feels. . . strange.
You're laying on top of Price, practically crushing him beneath your weight, your head and shoulders pushed beneath his loose shirt so you can lay your head on his naked chest. It's dark, and warm, the scent of musk and sweat curls in your nose as his thick chest hair tickles your face with every even breath, his heart beating so calmly beneath your ears.
It's strange. It's the best way you can describe it; a part of you is disgusted with the proximity, panic occasionally jolting through your system and lining your muscles with lead as your body expects for the hit to come any moment. Only for a calloused hand to run down your spine gently, turning your tense muscles into mush.
"You're alright lad." His voice rumbles in his chest, a type of tone that is both calming and commanding. "Just listen to my voice yeah? Good boy," A pleasant shiver runs up your spine as the praise, a low whimper escaping you as you nuzzle your head further into his pecs. Your head feels stuffed with cotton yet his low praises still reach your brain, and it feels strange to get them without any work, to be praised just for simply existing, but it's also. . . nice.
"Oi Price-" You tense immediately as the door suddenly opens, loud voices shooting lightning into your muscles. Price scruffs you through the shirt before you can react any more, calming you down to the point you don't even notice what they're talking about.
"Wh- Soap!" Price shouts.
You feel the bed dip, a disgruntled sound leaving your chest as a body shuffles under Price's shirt next to you. Soap's scent hits your nose before his head bumps into yours, "Yer like a pig in shite pup." His hair scratches your face as he makes himself comfortable on Price's other pec, and you don't need sight to know he's grinning like a fool. "Cozy in 'ere."
"How comfortable are his tits?" Ghost's voice reaches your ears, and it must be his body that lays down next to yours, supporting some of your weight that you're not crushing Price by wrapping a loose hand around your waist. His body is solid against yours, both of them are, Johnny's arm wrapping around you just bellow Simon's hand, unapologetically groping your ass.
"Boys!" Price sputters, and without sight you can only imagine how flushed his face must be, he always got red as a lobster when you'd tease him. "Can't you be decent for one day?"
"We're wearing pants aren't we?" Gaz's laugh sounds somewhere behind you, and you're pretty sure it's Gaz that lays down between your legs, using your ass as a pillow. "Oh, wow," You hear him mumble as if astonished, heat burning across your skin as you feel him nuzzle into your ass.
A low whine escapes your throat without notice, and you're not sure why, just something about the way they handle you, like you're made of glass, makes lightning crackle down your spine.
"Do you want to stop?" Price's voice is non-judgmental, his hand brushing your hair that peeked through the stretched taught neckline of his shirt.
You shut your eyes, breathing in deeply. "No." You say, your arms gripping Price's pudgy stomach even tighter.
You feel Johnny shift closer to you, his lips blindly brushing against yours. "Aye, yer fine bonnie." He grins, and pushes his head to meet your lips in a proper kiss. You can taste the aftertaste of tobacco from his cigarettes and the mints on his tongue.
This is nice. You could get used to this.
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cactuscoolerr · 10 months
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rin= babyfever?
i want it now!
RAAAHGHHAHAHGA BABY FEVER RIN IS SO REAL and if baby fever rin is real then BREEDING KINK RIN IS REAL oh my god.
this mf absolutely NEEDS to fill you up every time y’all have sex. like yeah he likes sex and all, feeling your needy cunt sucked him in as he groans about the tightness BUT he isn’t completely satisfied until he pulls out and sees his cum flowing out of you.
and rin is always careful yk? like ur always in birth control and shit and the two of you have never had any problems with it. that was until your friend visited unannounced with a baby on her hip.
like rin didn’t even like kids before 💀 i just know he’d have been the one to open the door and looked with disgust at the drooling thing in this random lady’s arms. and hes soooo annoyed when you just let them into his house. like who do u think u are?? 🙄
and he’s still annoyed as you, your friend, and that drooling mess sit on the carpet as he sits with a scowl on the couch. that is until he notices you pick up the baby. it’s super sudden when rin feels like his heart skips a beat at your bright eyed smile as you bounce the baby up and down. and it even laughs. it likes you. rin watches for a second longer before standing abruptly and leaving the room. the thought of you pregnant with his kids was too much for him to handle lol.
you just looked so pretty smiling while holding a baby and he couldn’t handle it. if he looked at you for too long, he’d start imagining a life with you where you’d have children of your own and that wasn’t necessarily in his plans for the future.
UNTIL it’s later that day, your friend and her baby gone, and you and him in your bedroom. your loud moans filled his ears and he could just cum at how pretty you sound.
“come on, baby” rin pants against your neck. “fucking squeeze me tighter.. make me cum and fucking breed you”
“fill you with my babies”
he felt you tighten around him at his last comment, and it only urged him to thrust into your tight cunt faster. the only thing on his mind was your swollen stomach and your tits full. fuck, you’d look so beautiful as his pregnant wife.
your sweet moans filled his ears once again and he grunts deeply in your ear. “want your babies..” you panted, letting out a small whine when rin hit a particular sensitive spot inside of you. “wanna be full of your kids.. need your cum so bad, rin..”
and that’s all rin needed to hear before pulling your hips higher into his and slamming his hips into yours until he came deep inside of your cunt.
“beautiful,” rin muttered as he watched his cum seep out of your ruined pussy before shoving his fingers deep inside of you to make sure you’d be growing his kid soon. “so fucking beautiful, my angel”
and then he’d continue to fuck you full of his cum until you were just leaking his cum. and yeah 🙏
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ist4rgirlo · 9 months
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─── 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 - 𝐜𝐟 : 𝐈
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Summary: Being Belly & Steven’s older sibling has it’s pros and cons. Protecting them and taking care of them is a must, but do you really have to put their feelings first instead of your own?
Next | Conrad Fisher x fem!reader | My blog
Warning: comparing, angst, conrad being a two timer (?), fluff, physical touch. (lmk if i missed anything!)
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I never thought that I would have this talk with Conrad. I didn’t except for any of these to happen, we were all just trying to have fun, but I realized that we’re all grown ups now, we’re not the same kids as we were back then and that’s what i hated.
“Connie? is that you?” I asked, feeling Conrad’s presence.
Conrad entered the kitchen with a gentle smile, walking towards the fridge to get a drink. “Hey, what’s up?” he turned to me — tilting his head a little bit, still smiling.
“Oh I just wanted to talk” I told him, not looking at him in the eyes.
“Oh okay, what are we gonna talk about?” Conrad walked towards me and sat beside me — pulling his seat closer to mine.
I turned to my side so I can talk to him clearly, “It’s about us, about you and Belly” I looked at him, his gentle smile now faltering, his brows started to furrow. The room now filled with silence and the only thing I can hear was my own heart beating fast.
“What about me and Belly?” Conrad looked into my eyes trying to search for something — trying to see what I really meant.
“You… you know you need to make up your mind soon, right Conrad?” I looked down at my fingers and started to play with my rings, I didn’t want to look at him, I couldn’t look at him.
“Make up my mind about what? you are confusing me Y/N” Conrad pulled me closer to him.
Conrad knew what I was talking about, he just didn’t want to talk about it or acknowledge it because he never wanted this to happen, he never wanted to like both of his bestfriends.
“I know that you are starting to like Belly” I backed away from him — not wanting to hurt myself more.
“What are you talking about? I am close with Belly but..” Conrad was trying to find words, he knew he can’t deny it because it was true, he can’t lie to to me, he know’s he can’t.
I looked at him and took his hand as a sign of reassurance “You don’t have to lie to me you know?” it’ll just hurt me more if he did, he knows it would.
Conrad looked into my eyes — his brows still furrowed — he swallowed hard and said “I do.. I do like Belly, but I like you too”.
I closed my eyes “You have to choose Conrad, please” I stood up and started to walk towards the window.
Conrad started walking towards me, trying to reach for my hand, “I don’t want to choose, please don’t make me choose. I can’t lose either of you, Y/N”
“You know you won’t lose me, Conrad. Belly’s my sister, I don’t want to hurt her, so please choose.” part of me hoping that he would choose me, but I know that he knew what I was implying. He knew that i’d want him to choose Belly instead.
It was always him and Belly, not me and him. at least that’s what mom said, she always liked Belly and Conrad together, but Susannah thought otherwise. Susannah knew what we had ever since we were little, she always liked me and Conrad together.
“I will think about it, okay?” Conrad said.
I nodded and walked away before I felt my tears fall down my face.
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It was the night after me and Conrad talked. I was laying down when Jeremiah knocked on my door and asked me if he can come in.
“Hey Y/N, can I come in?”
“Come in, Jere” I sat up to give him space to sit on.
“Hey pretty girl. You seem down, are you okay?” Jeremiah sat down in front of me and asked me with a gentle smile.
I smiled at him “I guess? i dont really know. there’s just a lot of things going on and it’s just exhausting for me” I plopped down and laid on my back.
“Well do you want to talk about it? yk i’ll listen” Jeremiah pushed me to the side gently so that he can lay down beside me.
Jeremiah and I have this special bond that Laurel and Susannah loves. We are each other’s rock, each other’s bestfriend. We are there for each other when no one else is.
I sighed, “I gues it’s just hard for me. there’s just a lot of things happening, Susannah getting sick, me having to choose what I want for college and now this Conrad thing”
“Oh what about Conrad huh?” he said teasingly — nudging me with his elbow.
“It’s not like that, Jere” I wish it was. I sure did wish it was like that.
“Well then what about it?” his gentle smile now faltering, he turned to his side facing me.
“Me and Conrad talked, I told him to choose between me and Belly” now it was was me turning to my side to face him.
“What? why? why would you do that?” Jeremiah sat up confused and raising his voice a little, causing me to sit up too.
I took a deep breath, “Conrad’s starting to like Belly”.
“What do you mean? he likes you Y/N, it’s so obvious that he does” he said frowning.
That’s true, i know that’s true “Well who can’t not fall inlove with Belly, she’s amazing Jere.” and that’s true as well
“Well, what are you going to do now?” Jeremiah’s voice laced with worry, he knew I was hurting, god he knows all of the emotions I am feeling right now.
“She’s my sister, Jere. I’d be way happier if Conrad chose her.”
“She’s very important to me, I am supposed to protect her not hurt her”
“But you are hurting too Y/N” Jeremiah said concerned.
“I know but i’ll get over it, as long as she is happy, as long as my siblings are happy, i’ll get over it. Even if it takes me to let go of that someone for my sister.” and that someone is Conrad.
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Me and Jeremiah talked all night long, not knowing that Conrad was outside the door listening to us the whole time.
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junipers-archive · 1 year
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Water
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Word Count: 550 Includes: fluff,fluff, fluff! spencer and reader are not together but...well yk. Spencer is concerned reader isnt drinking enough water and reader is not taking the critisism (light-hearted)
You were sitting on the jet with the team, having gone over the case files you had all split up to your preferred parts of the plane in peace.
You and Spencer had taken the two chairs sitting across from one another silently reading your books.
Well, that was until you asked a simple question,
"Does-uh sorry but does anyone have any lotion?" Emily was the first to respond as she started to rummage through her numerous bags,
"yea I think i have some in my go-bag"
That was simple wasn't it?, You had been feeling patricularly dry that week, with patches of dry-spots on you face which sadly you hadn't found the permenant cure for.
Spencer had been noticing but didn't want to add anything as not to offend, but this was getting hard to watch.
"You know, dryness occurs on the face typically when a person isn't consuming enough liquids or in a more common case water throughout the day, to ease this, lotion can be found to help, especially organic lotions containing oats, soothing emollients and no fragrance as to not further agitate the area, but if you're looking for a more permanent solution...drink some water y/n."
You were...preturbed by this comment to say the least, I mean did he really think it was okay to be talking about your water-drinking habits (or lack thereof) on the jet right now?
"I drink plenty of water thank you very much Spence."
He smirked at this remark, "What's in your tumbler right now?"
"What?"
"The tumbler you always carry around. Whats in it right now?"
Was he smiling?
"Thats really none of your business."
"Come on share with the class." he was relentless and snarky.
"Coffee." to your ego's ailment it came out in a whisper.
"And thats what, your third one today?"
Was he really doing this, "Again none of your business..." but even you knew you might have a problem.
And Apparently having everyone stare at you wasn't enough he had to go and make it worse as he stole your favorite tumbler, holding it just out of your reach.
"Give it back Spencer!" You were leaning over the table, causing a spectacle, but you didn't care, you paid good money for that cup.
"Not until you drink some water." He nodded to his own glass, which conveinently for him was filled with water and right between the two of you.
And yea maybe it was childish, this game you two played all the time, but were going to win.
"No."
"Y/n just drink the water." Really now Rossi was involved?
"No! This is ridiculous, ludicrous, overstepping" Now you were sounding like Spencer "absurd, ridiculous and not to mention-"
"Drink The Water!" this came out less clearly but audible enough for you to get the message as the rest of the team, including Spencer essentially yelled at you to drink some water.
In a last attempt to redeem your pride from the pits of Tartarus, you stuck your tounge out at Spencer before downing the glass of water and then making a show the empty glass by turning it upside down.
He then returned your tumbler and grinned.
"See, now was that so hard?"
As you were about to make a quip back, once more Rossi beat you to it having the entire jet in giggles besides you and Spencer,
"Oh make out already!"
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aezuria · 22 days
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okay okay but like could you do hcs about Jason grace x shy/cutesy fem!reader?? It would be so cute omgg everyone looks up to Jason as this intimidating badass leader but his gf is just the cutest, softest, most adorable lil thing ever??
*ੈ✎ he don't bite! (yes he do!)
content: jason grace x reader; hcs
warnings: none?? i made this more camp jupiter based tho sorry
note: THIS REQUEST WAS SOO CUTSEY OMGGG jason is a doberman bf fr
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so like yk how everyone in camp jupiter sees him as this super tough guy???
who wouldnt; he was the former praetor, son of jupiter himself, literally trained for war since he was a toddler
why is a guy like that walking around with YOU??
the most sweetest girl to ever grace the earth
how does that even happen?
jason is quite literally marching around with perfect posture, glaring at everyone (he's really just squinting cause he forgot his glasses... again)
and then he sees you!!
even with shit eyesight he knows the shape of you by heart
and his whole demeanor just?? softens? lights up? relaxes? all of the above
it was just such a rough day for him; he forgets everybody around him and just scoops you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck
a bit of an awkward position with him having to bend down at a weird angle but he doesnt care!!
he just wants to hold you and have you hold him and cuddle :((
meanwhile everyones like WTF WHO ARE YOU AND IS THIS REALLY JASON
literally melts in your arms the second you hug him back
"you wanna go rest?" you whisper into the crook of his neck, to which he nodded against your shoulder. you laughed lightly and pulled away, or at least tried to. "let's go then."
he begrudgingly let you out of his arms, following behind you
everybody else is still reeling in shock btw
you guys were the TALK OF THE TOWN for WEEKS after
one of those things where youd never guess but when you know abt it, it just makes SO much sense
you guys are polar opposites in such a good way (to everybody else at least)
cuddling with you is his best relaxing thing to do
you literally had to get him a life cause the only things he knew to do were work and fight
bro has never had a day off like ever
once you two started dating, he was introduced to the most addicting drug: physical touch
he was probably really shy at first; really really likes it but feels like he doesnt deserve it cause all hes been treated with is harshness
and hes unused to being so gently handled
(someone give him a hug fr)
which is what YOU did!
now he love loves it, especially on days like these when everythings just too much and all he wants to do is unwind
runs to you like a puppy
LOVE LOVES being the little spoon even though hes shy abt it
he can do both but smth abt being held instead of doing the holding for once makes his heart heavy in a bittersweet way
would spend all day in your arms if he could just get out of his workaholic attitude (which is never, but hes doing better with you)
okay, we can all agree jason is scary when hes mad
which is USUALLY unlikely unless someone hurts his friends or smth like that
but sometimes he just looks mad and if you werent close to him, you wouldnt be able to tell the difference
but back to him being MAD mad
like, abt to beat the living (dead?) shit out of a monster mad because there is one RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU EW GET IT OFF
he just, did NOT NEED THAT TODAY HES TIRED AND SAD AND that was his breaking point
unleashes HELL on that poor monster, literally calls down a whole storm
the skies turn dark, clouds heavy with rain and the whole camp just looks up like ??? was this on the weather forecast
then it starts raining LIGHTNING and they all know who it is
and go inside and hide
was it a bit overdramatic? yes, but jason deserves to be dramatic sometimes
once he FINALLY finishes the job, he stomps back into the camp, terminus even taking note and doesnt say anything quippy
youd think he has the plague by the way people make room for him to walk
but then you poke through the crowd and spot him. "jason?"
hed know your voice anywhere, his head immediately turning to the direction he heard it
you were already right next to him, rubbing his arm and giving him your signature sweet smile
the stormy air around him seemed to part for you, like you were sun seeping through the cracks in the clouds
"y/n," he greeted you warmly, linking your arms together
what an odd sight the two of you made, but a cute one nonetheless!
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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months
Note
waayy to classic but having to share a bed while they were 'just friends' ? Yk where they actually like each other but too shy ore prideful? MAYBE WITH MEGUMI cu he's my our pretty boy ANY ANY OTHER CHARACTER YOU WANT
THANK YOU THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR WRITING
Okay, that escalated quickly. This might be a classic, but I simply love the idea! I added a little twist to each character so it isn’t always the same. I’m thinking about writing this for every character, so let me know if you’d want to read that. Hope you enjoy <3
JJK men sharing a bed with (y/n)
Pairing: Megumi x reader; Nanami x reader; Yuta x reader
Word Count: 3k
Notes: Part ll (Gojo sharing a bed with (y/n) at a love hotel
Part lll (Toji, Geto, Haibara, Choso)
Megumi Fushiguro
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You hated big parties. To be honest, you hated every kind of party, although it’s comforting that Megumi is here too. A glimpse into his grumpy but forbidden stunning face is enough to perceive the fact that he dislikes it here as much as you do.
“I don’t know why I’m even here. How did she manage to pull us with her?”, Megumi grumbles, arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Well, I guess Nobara can be quite persuasive”, you remark while watching Yuji play twister with a screwed up face.
You sign. The music blasts so loud that it threatens to rip your eardrum apart, your head began to ache the minute you stepped into this big house. Who lives here anyway? It doesn’t matter. If you don’t come out of here within the next few minutes, you’re going to throw up on the expensive looking carpet in front of you.
“Hey (y/n), are you alright? You look quite pale”, Megumi comments while eyeing you intensely.
Fuck. Your heart hammers against your ribcage. He is so close to you that you can take in the sight of his gorgeous face in great detail, only one look at his lips is enough to change the color of your face into deep red.  
“To be honest, I don’t feel so good. This is just too much for me I guess”, you whimper, eyes glued to the ground in a despairing attempt to stop yourself from staring at him so ruthlessly.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner? Come with me.”
He grabs your hand and pulls you with him, through the endless crowd of people, the blasting music and stinging scent of alcohol. Is he…really holding your hand? He’s touching you. Megumi Fushiguro is really touching you. You feel like flying and drowning at the same time, tired while being wide awake. Of course he touched you from time to time, after all he is your training partner mostly. But tender contact like this is very rare. You know this is actually your fault, given the fact how shy you act around him. But something about Megumi Fushiguro just makes your heart skip a beat and turns your senses upside down. Maybe you will tell him some day. Maybe…
“Nobara, is there a place where (y/n) and I can rest? She doesn’t feel well”, Megumi literally barks at her.
“Um, I think there’s a guestroom down the hall on the right. It’s a little quieter there I guess.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns on his heels, your hand still intertwined with his own, and dashes down the hallway.
“Finally”, he mutters and opens the door to a small but cute guestroom.
You close the door behind you and take a deep breath. Finally no loud music, drunk people and scent of alcohol that stings in the air. Megumi flops onto the bed, gaze set upon you.
“What are you waiting for? I thought you don’t feel well, lay down.”
Your eyes widen. There is only one bed in this room and he’s lying on top of it. Could you possibly…lay beside him? It would be big enough to fit you both, but with very little space. This means you are forced to touch each other, even if only your skin brushes against his. Your head turns pink all over again, eyes pressed closed to get the image of him holding you in his arms until you slowly drift off to sleep out of your dirty mind.
“B-but there’s only o-one bed”, you stutter.
“So what? It’s big enough to fit us both. Come here.”
He pats the soft mattress beside him invitingly. Can you really do this? It seems like there’s no other possibility anyways, so…
You let your worn-out body fall next to him, arms slightly brushing against his. It feels so good to finally breathe and to rest your head a little. You curse yourself for coming her in the first place even though you know well enough that you absolutely hate big and loud parties.
The reason for you being here lays right beside you, though.
“Are you feeling better? Maybe I can get you a glass of water or-“
“No”, you interrupt him.
“I’m absolutely fine, thank you.”
“You look a little red, almost as if you have fever. Are you really feeling alright, (y/n)?”
He places his hand on your forehead and you swear you can see the sparks that evaporate from your skin the second he touches you. You wish you could tell him how you feel, that you want to stay with him like this forever, but you are too shy to even admit your feelings to yourself. Megumi is a friend, a colleague. Nothing else, right?
“Let’s just rest a little, okay? Maybe you’ll feel better after a good nap.”
“Do you really think we can just…sleep here?”, you question.
“Sure, why not? It’s a guestroom with a bed in it”, Megumi replies dryly and shrugs.
“Only one bed though”, you blurt out.
Megumi shifts his weight beside you and now faces you completely.
“Is this a problem for you? I can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No I’m not! You’re not the problem here! It’s just…”
You can’t find the words. In fact, you feel like your whole head is empty.
“Let’s just nap, shall we? We can talk about this tomorrow when you’re feeling better”, Megumi suggests.
You simply nod and turn to the order side, heart still racing inside of your chest. Maybe a little sleep wouldn’t hurt after all…
______________________________________________________________
“Quiet Itadori, (y/n) and Megumi are in there.”
“ALONE!?”, Yuji cries out.
Nobara rolls her eyes and hits him roughly.
“How dumb are you actually? Shut the fuck up, idiot. We need to be quiet.”
Slowly, she opens the door to the dark room. There you both lay, bodies intertwined with each, your steady breath being the only sound that fills the rooms.
“They’re cuddling!”, Yuji screams and turns on the lights before Nobara is able to stop him.
“What the hell?”, Megumi’s sleep drunken voice mutters.
You open your eyes and blink against the harsh light that invades the whole room. What time is it? Why do you feel so warm and cozy? Did you still get home somehow? Oh, that delicious smell that tingles your nose. It reminds you of…
MEGUMI.
Megumi’s hands are wrapped around your waist, his broad chest pressed against your back. Your eyes widen, suddenly your body feels on fire. And even worse, Nobara and Yuji stand in the doorframe and stare at you with their mouths wide open.
“Did I miss something?”, Yuji cries out.
“We just shared a bed. You’re embarrassing me in front of (y/n)”, Megumi mumbles, his hands still resting still against your body.
“Hey, you owe us an explanation! You never told us there’s something between you both!”, Nobara speaks up, her finger pointing directly into Megumi’s face.
“So sorry about that”, he whispers into your ear, his warm breath against your ear sending shivers down your spine.
“N-no p-problem.”
Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, still completely in shock by the fact that you are held by Megumi Fushiguro. In presence of his friends. In. A. Bed.
Nanami Kento
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You toss and turn in your sleep. How many nightmares did you have this week? You lost count. Over and over you repeat Haibara’s death in your head and the way you just stood there and didn’t do anything about it. That was over 10 years ago, but the death stare in his eyes still haunts you to this day late at night.
Your whole body is covered in ice cold sweat, whimpers escape your mouth as you desperately try to shake away the scorching pain that repeats the second time around.
“Why are you just standing there, do something (y/n)!”, Nanami’s voice screams at you.
It isn’t true. Nanami never raised his voice at you like that.
“You are absolutely useless. Do you really call yourself a jujutsu sorcerer? You should have died in his place.”
“N-no”, you mutter, shaking your head over and over again.
Nanami is a light sleeper anyway, but the sound of your whimpers and silent screams wake him up immediately. He sits up in bed, feet carrying him automatically to your doorstep. It isn’t a secret to him anymore that you are plagued by nightmares since the incident with Haibara. It always feels like a knife in his throat to see you this broken after so many years.
“(y/n)”, he softly whispers.
There you lay, completely covered in sweat, body shaking uncontrollably while you sob in your sleep. He kneels down next to your trembling frame, gently caressing your face with his thumb. God, why do you have to suffer like this? It isn’t fair that you have to feel so miserable because of some fucking curses. You don’t deserve the pain that dreadful day caused you.
“It’s just a dream, (y/n). Wake up, I’m here”, he speaks into the unforgiving darkness of night.
“Nanami, I-…so s-sorry…All my fault…”, you mumble, tears streaming down your disturbed face in a river.
His heart clenches. What are you dreaming about? Nanami’s grip tightens around your shoulders, softly shaking you in a frantic attempt to wake you up.
“Hey, none of this is real. I’m here, (y/n).”
Your eyes snap open and dart around with no aim. Your rushed and sharp breathes ring through your ears, heart hammering against your ribcage.
“There you are”, a familiar voice next to you comments.
“Nanami”, you breathe out.
It was just a dream. All of the things he said, the things you saw over and over again weren’t real.
“Fuck, I’m sorry”, you mutter and bury your face in your hands.
Was he here the whole time? Your cheeks feel puffy and soaked and tears, embarrassment consumes you entirely. How much you hate it when he sees you like this, vulnerable and weak. It’s not the first time that Nanami puzzles you back together after a nightmare.
“Don’t be, come here.”
His strong arms embrace you in an instant and slowly but surely push your nightmares away.
“What was it this time?”
“It’s like my brain wants me to think that you hate me I guess”, you mutter into his arms while holding onto his shoulders for dear life.
This situation is so common that you lost count on how many times he visited you already over the last few years. The second you open your eyes, you stare into his brown orbs that make your world whole again. Since the day Haibara lost his life. Since the day your nights turned into nightmares.
“But I’m right here and I’m telling you that I don’t hate you at all.”
You let out a silent laugh. Oh, how much you hoped this would come to an end. You aren’t even able to remember the last night with proper sleep.
“Would you mind staying here for a while?”, you shyly request, avoiding eye contact.
“Scoot over.”
Your back rests against the cold wall while he wraps one arm around your shoulder and places your head on his chest. The way his heart beats steady against your ear seems to calm you down immediately, almost therapeutic.
“I hope you don’t mind having so little room. I’m slightly taller than you I’m afraid”, he murmurs, gently stroking your back.
“I’m the one who should ask you that. After all, I woke you up and now force you to stay with me”, you reply with a nervous grin.
“Wouldn’t be a problem to put in some ear plugs or leave you alone. Come on, (y/n). I’m here because I want to be and not because you force me to. You are my friend, I hate to see you like this and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel at least a little better.
You bury your head in his soft t-shirt and hold onto him a little tighter. How do you deserve that this great man is lying next to you in your very own bed night after night? You really don’t know. All you hope is that it doesn’t stop though. Maybe, just maybe he will someday stay here with you forever…
Yuta Okkotsu
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“Are you alright (y/n)?”, Yuta’s worried voice shouts over the blizzard that mercilessly haunts both of you this late at night.
You feel like dying. Hands and feet? No more feeling. Your nose? Running like a river while being numb at the same time. Your limbs feel like they’ll fall off any given minute while you want nothing more than a warm bed, a cup of tea and to watch some Netflix. How the hell did you end up in this living hell? Oh right, that stupid mission. Well, at least Yuta is with you. Otherwise you would have gave up already.
“Actually no. Everything just hurts”, you choke out.
Yuta takes you in his arm, hand covering your face from the unforgiving whipping of the wind.
“I know this is rough, but we have to hold on for a little longer. Gojo-sensei told me that the cabin is only a few minutes away”, Yuta assures you.
“He also told us to bring bathing suits with us…”, you grumble.
Do you have any other choice than to rely on Gojo’s word and Yuta’s sense of direction? Absolutely not. Your feet carry you on their own trough the snowy street, eyes glued to the ground underneath while you can’t shake the comfortable feeling of Yuta holding you in his arm away. God, let this hell end. Otherwise you’re really not sure if you’ll stay conscious within the next hour.
“There it is!”, Yuta announces.
Your eyes dart up. The last house of the street, rather a small cottage to be exact.
“That doesn’t look inhabited at all. Are you sure this is the right house?”
“We’ll have to find out! And to be honest, do we have another choice? I don’t want to spend another minute outside if I’m being honest”, Yuta replies while scratching the back of his head.
Fair enough. You follow him to the doorstep and watch him turn the key in the lock. At this point it wouldn’t be a surprise if the door doesn’t open, but it does. You enter the dark cabin.
“It’s still fucking cold”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
“Let’s see if there are some blankets or even better a heater.”
You can’t help but stare at the boy next to you. A few months ago he was so shy and unsure about himself. But now it seems like his confidence never wavers as well as his cool head. At the moment he’s definitely the more collected one.
You do as he told you, searched the tiny cabin for a heater only to find a small bed and one single blanket.
“It’s not much but it’s more than nothing. Go ahead, you can have the bed and blanket.”
“That’s completely out of question, Yuta. Your lips are totally blue and your whole body shivers. I’m not taking that blanket alone”, you reply, shaking your head violently.
But what is the solution, then?
“You can have it.”
After all, Yuta is the one who guided you here. You’ll get through this night somehow.
“I have an idea, but it might sound dumb…”, he begins, voice showing no sight of his new grown poise.
“Just say it”, you demand while eyeing him.
Why does his face suddenly turn even redder and why is he fumbling with his hands this nervously?
“You know, we…we could share the blanket and bed…But only if you want to and are comfortable with it!”, he blurts out.
Huh. Your heart skips a beat when the consequences of his suggestion hit you.
“So like, cuddle?”, you question with your eyes bored into him.
“Please forget I ever said that.”
“I mean, you’re kinda right. In this cold it’s better to warm each other up…”, you stutter.
Thick silence hangs in the air between you two and makes you want to go back into the blizzard. Fuck, the fact that you caught feelings for him doesn’t make this easier at all. Normally you are outspoken, self-assured and centered…What the hell happened to you? Why are you just standing there like an idiot, staring at him with your eyes wide open?
Yuta is the first who dares to move. With a swift motion, he takes off his shoes, positions himself in bed and puts the blanket on top of him.
“Then come here. Maybe we’re even able to get some sleep!”
You hesitate. This is the first time you get so close to him apart from training sessions. Yuta never touched you, let alone shared a blanket and a whole bed with you. But your body screams in icy agony and begs you to take his offer desperately. Jump over your shadow, just close your eyes and lay down beside him.
The warmth of his body seems to swallow you whole the second your body brushes against his. God, you never realized how good he actually smells. Has it always been like this? And that look in his eyes seems so…different.
“You know, I’m glad to be stuck with you, (y/n)”, he confesses, his hand sliding down your arm and leaving a trace of prickling fireworks under your skin.
Fuck it. You bury yourself against his warm and large frame, face resting on his neck while his arms immediately take your invitation. While it’s still cold, the adrenalin that rushes through your veins and the heat that radiates from his body are more than enough to keep you warm in this adventurous night.
“Me too, Yuta”, you confess shyly.
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stsgluver · 7 months
Text
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synopsis. after nineteen days of being stuck in the dark, gojo comes home.
wc. 760
tags. slight angst, slight fluff, comfort, SPOILERS FOR JJK MANGA CHAPT 218 (although I think we all know now but yk), dad!gojo
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"baby?"
satoru's voice was barely above a whisper as he clicked the front door shut. there was no response which was expected given the fact it had gone midnight. it was now the twentieth day since he'd been sealed and the only things that had been on his mind were you and his beautiful daughter.
so although the silence was expected, it didn't stop his heart from dropping to his stomach as he worried something had happened to you whilst he was gone. satoru hadn't expected to come back to nanami gone, he was terrified shoko was going to tell him that you, his precious non-sorcerer lover, were gone too.
there was only one light on in your little apartment: your daughter's nightlight. the dull light bled through the door that was slightly ajar. she was only eight months old and had been struggling to sleep so it wasn't unusual for one of you to end up easing her back to slumber halfway through the night.
a pang of guilt hit him as he questioned if it was his daughter struggling to sleep or if it was you laying awake at night wondering if he'd ever come back.
satoru took in an uneasy breath before slowly pushing open the door to your daughter's nursery.
there you were, your body curled up on the rocking chair next to your daughter's cot. you had a blanket wrapped loosely around your body and satoru wouldn't be surprised if this was how you'd been sleeping the last nineteen nights.
satoru dropped to his knees before you and for a moment he thinks that he should just let you rest. you’re probably exhausted looking after your child alone with no knowledge of his whereabouts. he knew shoko would’ve kept you in the loop but there was only so much you were allowed to know — even as the partner to the strongest sorcerer alive.
“gorgeous, i’m home,” satoru extended his cursed technique as his thumb comes to brush against your cheek. his infinity wrapped around you, a second blanket if you will, this one bringing him ease that you were safe again.
you stirred slightly at the physical contact, then abruptly sat up straight in panic at the unexpected touch. you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been concerned for the wellbeing of you and your daughter since he'd disappeared.
there was a second, as your eyes adjusted to the dim light and you focused in on the man in front, that neither of you breathed. you were awake and real and he was here and alive.
you couldn't stop the hot ugly tears that slipped down your checks as you choked back sobs, afraid to wake your daughter.
satoru quietly hushed you. his arms were wrapped fully around you now as you had slid off the chair and onto the floor in front of him. he felt your tears dampen his tight shirt and listened to your whispered begs to never do that again, to never leave you.
“i’m here, i’m here,” satoru muttered into your hair over and over, repeating it like a mantra, like it was a promise he could keep. if he had any tears left in him, he would have been crying too.
it was another several minutes before either of you could muster the energy to move to a more comfortable position. neither of you felt okay with leaving your daughter alone at such a vulnerable time so you made a makeshift bed out of pillows and blankets scattered across the room.
both of you would ache in the morning but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make to experience some form of comfort for the first time in weeks.
you settled yourself on top of satoru, leg hooked across his body as you clung to him like he was on the verge of being sealed again. his heart beat loudly beneath your ear and you savoured the sound you felt you'd taken for granted all those nights before.
satoru thought you'd fallen asleep, having significantly relaxed against him, until he heard your quiet voice that was slightly hoarse from crying.
“is megumi coming home soon too?”
satoru hesitated for a moment and, maybe if things weren't the way they were, he'd be more honest. but your skin was so soft and fragile beneath his touch and your daughter's light snores gave him a shred of hope he shouldn't have anymore.
so he smiled and let the lie slip naturally off of his tongue.
"he'll be home soon, trust me."
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a/n. currently working through my wips while I have some time. shockingly I can't actually get myself to finish any of my majorly angsty ones rn.
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issdisgrace · 10 months
Note
I haven't seen anyone write this yet and I'm low-key surprised :0 but can you write how Price , Ghost , Soap , Konig , Alejandro and Rudy react to seeing their bf wearing like one of those sexy army uniforms ? Like those slutty Halloween costumes that are really just camo lingerie and a hat
Maybe where the men just got back to base after a exhausting mission and go to their room after showering only to see reader waiting for them all dressed up for them and the reader says something like "That must've been an exhausting mission soldier , let me reward you for all your hard work"
Reader is teasing them so much all while feigning innocence and acting like he's oblivious to how worked up they are and then yk fucking ensues
Bonus if reader wears like something of theirs , like Prices hat , one of Ghost and Konigs masks , etc.
SEXY ARMY UNIFORM
WARNINGS: sexual other than that, nothing
A/N: This is what imagined when I was writing this
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ALEJANDRO
“Vas a ser mi muerte, amor.” (You're going to be the death of me, love.)
He’s all over you, so if you had any other plans for that evening, you can go ahead and call those off. Alejandro literally spends hours worshiping you from head to toe. He loves the outfit; it makes him go crazy. When he takes the outfit off of you, he makes sure to not rip anything because he definitely wants you to wear it again.
GHOST
"FUCK."
That's all he says before he ponces on you. The outfit drives him wild and if you're also wearing one of his masks; you are a goner. He is going to eat you up. As much as he loves the outfit, he is going to ripping it off of you. Later Ghost will apologize about ripping up the outfit like a heathen by buying you a nice lingerie set.
KÖNIG
"OH MY GOD."
Konig is shocked. When you said you had something to show him, he was not expecting this. He warms up to it but it takes a hot minute. He shyly asks you to ride him while wearing the outfit. When you give the poor man what he wants, he becomes a red hot blushing mess. 10/10. Recommend riding the man while forcing him to keep eye contact. It's a sight to see.
PRICE
"Sweatheart, you look amazing."
He thinks you look drop dead gorgeous. But at first he is shocked because he didn't expect to return to your guys' barracks to see you in such a scandalous outfit. If you're wearing one of his hats, you got his heart skipping beats. He responds to the outfit very well and makes a couple of lude comments.
RUDY
"Pareces un dios." (You look like a god.)
Rudy is shocked but quickly warms up to it. He will worship you from head to toe, much like Alejandro. He will literally pray at your feet like your a god. He just thinks you're so goddamn hot.
SOAP
“Where’s mine?”
After Soap's question, he will start to get a little handsy all while asking if you're going to fuck him while wearing it or if you're going to let him fuck you while wearing it. Soap doesn’t really care if he’s bottom or top. As long as you're wearing the outfit while everything is going down, he’s a happy man.
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heliads · 7 months
Note
Hi!! I miss your Derek fics so much so how’s one where you and him are in a casual relationship if yk what I mean when all of a sudden there’s a mishap that causes him to pull away and end up ghosting you because he caught feelings and is terrified of them, you still try to get in contact with him but got tired of it and that’s when Derek comes back basically begging for a chance to fix it🥺
masterlist
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Derek Hale knows he’s gone too far because he’s no longer nervous waking up to hear someone else’s heartbeat next to him. Derek stays alone, always; it saves him the trouble of having to think about saving someone other than himself if he ever wakes up to another roaring inferno. Derek is good at being alone. It’s never something he’s struggled with, even as a lone wolf without a pack. He still talks to other people on occasion. It’s fine.
He’d thought it was fine. Derek had almost gotten to the point of convincing himself of it, and then he started making mistakes like entertaining himself with someone else, and by the time it occurred to him that he was long past the point of no return, there was no way he could ever end it. So he lives with it, it’s fine. Until it isn’t.
Derek Hale has never been the type to get caught up over a girl. He did it once, then swore it would never happen again. There is the idea of Derek, the lone wolf; Derek, the man with a heart colder than ice. He wouldn’t go so far as to describe himself as a womanizer, but he’s dated not one but two of the women who’ve tried to kill him and the other wolves in town, so maybe he should start thinking about raising his standards.
He did, though. That was the problem. Of all the people in this world, good and bad and outright bloodthirsty, Derek found the one woman capable of waltzing right past his best defenses and laying claim to the very organ he thought would never be bothered with again. Derek has long since assumed that, so long as it keeps beating on schedule, he’d never think about his heart unless someone was actively ripping it out of his chest, but Y/N changed that. She changed everything.
It was nothing at first. That’s what he promised himself the first time he woke up in an unfamiliar room that definitely wasn’t in his apartment complex. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he picked up on the sound of someone else breathing evenly next to him, but Y/N had woken up not long after him so they’d been able to talk things through. They’d both agreed that it was a one time thing, the result of years of rising tensions against supernaturals in Beacon Hills, and would never happen again.
The second time, Derek was no less taken aback, but a little more disappointed in himself. Usually, when he makes his word, he sticks to it for longer than a month. He’d left before she woke up that time. Didn’t stop him from crawling back, though. He can blame it on the alcohol that doesn’t affect him, the battle rush of adrenaline he’s long since learned to master. Excuses are easy. Falling is easier still.
Derek doesn’t fall, though. He won’t. Even if it kills him. Especially if it kills him. Derek can lock himself up and cut away his heart and distrust his mind until any conceivable feeling dies off from lack of oxygen. It wouldn’t be the first time. Somehow, he doubts it’ll be the last.
This is all well and good, but it doesn’t work as well as it should. Even now, blinking the last of the past night’s sleep from his eyes, Derek sits up slowly in his own bed, and the sight of Y/N there next to him isn’t surprising. Not at all. His internal alarm system stopped going off around her a long time ago. Hell, he gets more uneasy the longer he goes without seeing her instead of the other way around.
A year ago, he would have called that a mistake. Hales survive because they trust only each other. Y/N may be an ally in this eternally war-torn town, but that does not make her someone he can afford to keep around. Still, when he carefully lifts himself out of bed to avoid waking her, when she comes out of the room about half an hour later in one of his shirts, when Derek can’t quite tell where her perfume ends and his cologne begins, he wonders to himself if he hasn’t already crossed that line a very long time ago.
It doesn’t matter. None of this is real. He doesn’t make her breakfast, she doesn’t say goodbye. They just go about their lives as if the past night had never happened at all, as if none of the nights before that, all stretching out in one vast line of pale, bedsheet-white dominoes do not exist between them. You cannot topple what you do not see, and Derek’s eyes are snapped shut tight.
He’s started noticing things, though, against his better judgment. The furrows in Y/N’s brow vanish while she’s asleep, but they appear again when she looks around at her house or his in the morning and remembers something she’ll never tell him. Her shoulders always rise and pinch together right before she leaves without a word. Derek has started making himself scarce whenever she wakes up. It’s better for both of them if there’s no opportunity to stay any longer.
Most of all, Derek takes care to ensure that whatever happens at night does not affect either of them during the day. Y/N’s more closely allied with the McCall pack than whatever dregs are left of Derek’s ill-gotten attempt to seize power with his own batch of betas, but he still sees her often enough on wolf business. Derek has no doubt that Scott has caught on to the fact that they’re seeing each other, but neither of them will bring it up so long as it doesn’t become a problem.
A couple of times, Derek has felt Scott’s eyes on him like an accusation, burning holes into his shoulders whenever Y/N shows up late or seems listless during the discussions. Derek wants to throw up his hands and declare to anyone who cares to listen or blame him that he’s doing his best to make sure he isn’t the cause, but he doubts any of the younger pack members want to know that he’s specifically trimming off any stem of feeling before it takes root. He’s doing his best, at least. Surely that counts for something.
Still, he can feel their judgment like a plague, even outside of passing glimpses. When Scott McCall shows up at Derek’s door to ask for his help with a sudden hunter shootout at the hospital, Derek can still see the awareness in the back of the kid’s eyes. Y/N’s got her own thing going, Derek wants to clarify, she’s long past school-crush days just like him. They’re both adults and they can do what they please. High school sweethearts all die by hunters’ arrows. The ones who survive don’t play by the rules.
Scott will never bring it up, though, so Derek won’t, either. Instead, he just accompanies Scott to the hospital, where he slashes and stabs at anyone who tries to shoot at him. These sorts of things are becoming normal occurrences by now; Melissa McCall and the other doctors are probably sick of it, but what can you do?
Derek’s only half paying attention. He focuses enough to keep himself alive, but it’s easy to go on autopilot. The hunters will always attack, and they will always defend. Some will get hurt. They’ll heal in time to start the game over again. Nothing new.
It should be nothing new. It is, until Derek rounds a corner and he sees one of the hunters shooting at Y/N’s back. She’s distracted taking out someone else. She won’t react in time, Derek knows it, he can feel it in his bones like a bad frost, and Derek– he actually screams, a guttural shout of despair, and he hurls himself at the hunter. The gun goes flying out of the guy’s hands and into a corner of the room, blood spatters following it a second later. It’s alright again. Y/N is fine.
Y/N, actually, is staring at him in confusion. “What was that about?” She asks slowly.
Derek catches a hazy glimpse of himself in the glass panel of a nearby door and realizes that he looks mad. His eyes are wide, startled, glowing; his claws are out and dripping with gore. “He was going to shoot you,” he says, a little unsteadily, “You weren’t paying attention.”
She shakes her head slowly. “I was, Derek. His gun was empty. No more bullets left, I heard the empty barrel click a minute ago.”
Derek stares at her uncomprehendingly, and Y/N has to cross the room, pick up the fallen hunter’s weapon, and pull the trigger several times until Derek understands. She was right, no ammunition was shot. It was a complete misfire on his end, and something that he should have picked up on far before he decided to strike. If Y/N could hear that the gun was empty from across the room, Derek should have known it from where he stood.
He knows what this means, then. It means he’s making mistakes, and mistakes get you killed. They get everyone killed. Derek hasn’t made a mistake like this in a long time, because he never let anyone in, but he has now, hasn’t he? He’s known it for a long time. Y/N means far more to him than a prolonged one night stand. He has feelings for her, of a depth he couldn’t decipher if given a thousand years trapped inside his own head. Derek Hale has fallen in love, but this love will destroy him. It will make him weak.
And, fuck, Derek knows how this is going to end. How it always ends. He is a fire, consuming everything in his path; burning down his family home; choking the last breath from the lungs of anyone foolish enough to love him. If Y/N realizes that he loves her, if she does something so terrible as to love him back, she will fall before the year is out. They always do, and it will be his fault again, his fault like it was for all the others.
He moves before he knows what he’s doing. Y/N is calling after him, he thinks, but Derek is already rounding the corner and out of the hallway. Hunters in his path are killed by a wolf that might be Derek, if Derek was aware enough of what he was doing to act on anything more than animal instinct. Instead, he just keeps going like a bloodsoaked robot until Scott tells him it’s over, and then he leaves. He does not check in with the rest of the pack. He does not check in with Y/N.
In fact, he does not speak with her again. She tries texting him afterwards to see if he’s alright, and then even shows up at his door when he’s unresponsive for days, but Derek just waits silently in the confines of his apartment until she goes away. She can probably hear his heartbeat, but it doesn’t matter. This will benefit both of them. Neither Derek nor Y/N can afford an attachment like this. He’s already started slipping up in the heat of battle. Who knows what sort of deadly error he will commit next?
If he thought the McCall pack’s judgment was bad enough before, they’re downright diabolical now. He can’t speak to them without being on the receiving end of a thousand hateful stares. Every time he so much as crosses their path, you’d think he murdered their entire family. It’s unreal. Don’t they know he’s doing this for the best? 
It’s not like Derek enjoys this, anyway. It’s unnatural. He’s started waking up at odd hours of the night, reaching out for someone who isn’t there. Derek rises with the sun and stares at the empty other half of the bed. He starts to get up quietly and then remembers that there’s no one around who’s still sleeping, so he can be as loud as he pleases. It feels wrong when the floor creaks.
He’s started creeping closer to the door whenever Y/N stops by. He hovers right by the threshold, listening; he can tell by the inflections of her voice that she’s starting to give up hope, and then she stops coming. When a week goes by without a single word from her, Derek thinks that he should be pleased because he’s finally saved her from himself, but instead, all he feels is alone.
It’s not a good feeling, this. Derek thought he would be able to shake off any and all feelings for her in a matter of weeks, but even a month later, he’s still in a terrible state. Lydia starts taking pity on him, he thinks, and actually treats him like a normal human being again, which kind of makes it all worse. He doesn’t want her compassion. He wants–
He wants Y/N. Waking up alone again, hands curling into fists around empty sheets, Derek realizes the earth-shattering truth as if from a dream. He wants her. He wants her more than anything. If this is safety, Derek doesn’t want it. He hates not knowing if she’s alright. He hates thinking that he might have hurt her. If this is the cost of keeping them both alive, Derek would rather be dead.
He throws on his clothes, headed towards the door in a flash. He wakes up early, always has; if he can just get over to her place before she leaves to go to work, maybe it would be okay– maybe she would still want him– maybe he would be enough, now that he knows without a shadow of a doubt that she is for him–
Y/N doesn’t open her door at first, which is, admittedly, justified. Derek’s cheeks flush with shame remembering all the times he’d pointedly ignored her visits. However, she’s better than him, always has been, and opens the door eventually. He looks at her, breathes out at last, and says– “I miss you.”
Y/N arches a brow. “You do?”
“I do,” Derek repeats, “And I’ve been– stupid, really, and I shouldn’t have been. I know better than that.”
Y/N folds her arms across her chest. “What made you change your mind?”
“I realized I love you,” Derek says. It’s only five words, but it makes Y/N sway as if she’s been shot.
“You’re just saying that,” she whispers faintly.
Derek shakes her head. “I’m not the type to throw those words around. You know that. You know me better than anyone, Y/N. Tell me if I’m lying.”
He waits. She stares at him, but at last she nods slowly, and says, “You love me?”
“I love you,” he affirms. Then: “Can I come in?”
A ghost of a smile haunts her lips. “Always so forward, aren’t you?”
He laughs a little, actually. It surprises both of them, Derek the most. “I thought you liked that about me.”
“I do,” she admits, and steps aside to let him pass. Derek lingers by her side, he can’t help it. Moments like these were meant to be treasured. He may have messed up too many of them to count, but for once, Derek can start again. He intends to make the most of it.
teen wolf tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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rae-writes · 11 months
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just a few more
Diavolo, Barbatos, Mephisto + two bonus characters // 3.k wc
     *disclaimer: this is written as poly!romantic mc + all dateables
not only did Mc bag the seven lords of hell, they also ended up bagging the prince, his butler, and his highest ranking noble. Yk, as they should.
a/n : we’re gonna pretend Diavolo didn’t say he couldn’t form a pact with us just bc he’s the prince/future king because I think that’s a load of shi—
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It all started with you mentioning how pretty you thought Barbatos’ pact was. You said it casually- in passing- when you and the brothers had been over for tea. They were all fighting (with the exception of Lucifer and maybe Beel and Satan) over who’s pact mark looked the best when you dropped the bomb.
“Come oooon, Mc! You don’t havta pick a favorite or anythin’, just tell us which one looks the best!”
“That’s the same thing, moron!” 
“OI!”
Smiling, you picked the choice least likely to start a fight, “I think Barbatos has a pretty sigil. Solomon showed me once.” Yep- there definitely wasn’t any room to argue when they all had their jaws on the floor. 
Oh, but you sent a shock of heat straight through Barbatos, who was the last one expecting your particular reply. 
Not even the uproar from the brothers or the shit eating grin from his master could make that heat dim. In fact, it only grew stronger at the mischievous smile you sent him.
And then you showed up on the castle’s doorstep, bruised and bleeding, while crying out his name. 
“B-bar— Barba-tos! Barbatos!” it was the only coherent thing he could decipher as he watched you sob violently into his chest, fist clutching his shirt so hard he almost thought it’d rip. 
You’d been in the Devildom for so long now, it was a shock that anything could scare you this badly- but when you managed to choke out that a group of demons ganged up on you, the butler felt searing hot threads of possessiveness and rage grip at him. 
They’d touched you- hurt you. You were probably crying out for him while you fought your attackers and he didn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear it.
The final blow to his wavering resolve came only an hour later : 
“Why didn’t you call one of the brothers? You could’ve gotten fatally wounded if you hadn’t been using your magic.” He was scolding you. 
And you were smiling. “I didn’t want one of them at the time. I wanted you.” 
…oh. 
“B-rb…Ba-rb-os…Barbatos!” 
He blinked, staring at you blankly, “Huh?” Did he really just space out? 
“I said I’m sorry for worrying you and putting my life in danger. I’ll be more careful next time and call on my pacts.” 
Your pacts. Pact. “May I have the pleasure of entering a pact with you?” 
Surprised, you stared at Barbatos like he had three heads for a moment. “Me? A p-pact with me? But I thought—“ 
Barb interrupted by grasping your hands and bringing them to his lips, “If you think I do not trust you, I must ask you to think again.” 
You watched him press your intertwined hands against his chest, where his heart is, before he was leaning closer- closer than he’d ever been. 
“I trust you, Mc. Do you trust me?”
Voice nothing more than a whisper and without a trace of hesitation, “Yes. I’ll make a pact with you- I want to make a pact with you.” 
Barbatos’ eyes darkened ever so slightly as he gave you a genuine smile, “Excellent.”
Then his lips were on yours and your hands broke apart so he could cup your face while yours went straight to his hair and you could faintly feel the tingle of your new bond but kissing him felt too surreal for you to even begin deciphering where it was located. 
7 -> 8
Mephisto was certain he only tolerated you due to your closeness with the seven brothers and his lord- it’s all anybody heard him run his mouth about when you were mentioned. But when he got scolded by his kid brother for saying such things about you, he simply decided he had to see what everyone saw in you- and boy, was he straight up beat down with the realization. 
“Good morning, Mc.” 
Without even questioning why he was suddenly speaking to you out of the blue, you smile brightly and stop walking, “Morning, Mephisto! I like your tie, is that one new?” 
He blinks in surprise— you…noticed? “Yes, it is. I thought I might change things up every now and then.” 
“It’s pretty! Like you!” Not even embarrassed at such a bold comment, you point in the direction of the newspaper club’s office (which was opposite of the student council’s- where you were supposed to be going), “I’ll walk you to your office so we can talk some more, yeah? I don’t get to see you much!” 
One day he caught you taking care of his little brother and the feelings just intensified. 
“Now, now, none of that. You’ll make your eyes all swollen-“ you wiped away the boy’s tears, “and then your little head will hurt-“ your hand ruffled his hair playfully, “and we can’t have that, can we?” 
Mephisto watched you carefully doctor his brother’s scraped knee, not noticing his feet were moving until he was right beside you.
Smiling at the excited ‘big brother!’, you glance up in acknowledgment before placing a bandaid over the injury. “All better!” You kiss his knee, giving him another on the forehead before helping him stand. 
And as you and Mephisto watch the younger demon run off with a wave, he can’t help but feel the slightest bit miffed at the kisses you’d given said demon. It must’ve shown too, because—
“Oh, ‘Phisto,” you couldn’t stop giggling, even after you’d grabbed his face and pulled him down, “If you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask.” 
You kissed him on the cheek, patting it afterwards, before leaving with a grin (and leaving him behind with a blush and a hint of possessiveness). 
Not even a full week after that, Mephisto quickly decided that you simply couldn’t go any longer without it. 
“Form a pact with me.” He stamped down the urge to shuffle nervously under your surprised stare, “..please?” 
Your expression slowly morphed into a giddy smile, “I’d love to make a pact with you, ‘phisto.” Feeling the familiar warmth of the forming sigil, you beamed at him. 
He could feel it too; the bond threading itself together— his first (and only) pact. “Mc…” his tongue felt like lead but he knew what he wanted. All he had to do was ask. “May I have a kiss?” 
“As many as you want.” You sounded breathless as you brushed over his lips with your own, connecting them eagerly once he grabbed onto your hips. 
He nearly jumps when you grab onto his tie, though he steels himself and pulls you even closer, not daring to break the kiss for more than a couple seconds at a time. Now that he’s felt this…Mephisto doesn’t think he can live without it. 
8 -> 9
Your pact with Diavolo, while he truly wanted to have that relationship and bond with you, mostly happened due to childish jealousy. He’d dealt with your happy ramblings about your pact with Barbatos for months, but then…
“Another pact? With Mephisto? How ever did you manage that?” 
Either you didn’t notice the strain in Diavolo’s voice or you simply didn’t bother pointing it out, your smile stayed as you hummed happily. 
“I didn’t really do anything. ‘Phisto just came up to me all of a sudden and asked to make a pact.” 
“He asked?” If Diavolo wasn’t bothered before, he sure was now. Mephistopheles in a pact? It was simply unheard of, and now, he was the only demon in your group without a pact with you. “I see…”
It was such a petty feeling, because truly, he was thrilled for all of his friends— Diavolo just felt undeniably left out despite no one treating it that way [but him].
“I swear if the four of you stubborn bastards don’t take a break, I’ll make you!” giving a deadpan stare, you crossed your arms and stood in front of the demons seated at the student council table. 
Mephisto relented immediately, having heard of what exactly you can do with your pacts, and chose to go get some coffee. Lucifer- after a quick staredown- followed the noble, but not without leaving a kiss on your hand in silent ‘thanks’. Barbatos and Diavolo, however, remained in their spots.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Mc, but we really must finish; these are documents for RAD’s-”
“Barbatos. Take a break.” you watched his hands release the papers involuntarily, smiling at his incredulous stare, “At least go eat something. Please.” when Barb reluctantly stood from his chair, you turned to Diavolo and leaned to rest your forehead against his. “Just because I can’t make you, doesn’t mean you’re exempt from this. Up- come on.” 
And while his heart was practically beating out of his chest at the care you showed for him, that ugly jealousy still churned inside him at the clear display of difference in your relationships between him and the others. 
Everything finally bubbled over the day you confessed to him :
“Apologies, Mc, but could you…repeat that?” 
Ducking your head to hide the flush of your cheeks, you fiddled with your fingers, “I like you, Dia- if that wasn’t already obvious, and Barbatos and a few of the others agreed that I should tell you and ask if you’d like to date me too…”
Diavolo answered a bit too fast and desperate for his liking, “Yes! I-I mean, yes, I would be overjoyed to be in a relationship with you, Mc.” 
“But?” you squinted, knowing something was- and had been for a while- on his mind. “What’s wrong? You’ve been like this for weeks.”
“Nothing is wrong, I just…” Follow his heart or follow the rules? “I just want to be in a pact with you like all the others.” he averted his eyes, feeling childish when he spoke those feelings aloud. 
You only giggled, “That’s it, huh? I would love to enter a pact with you, Dia. Wait- are you even allowed? As the prince and future king, I mean?”
As soon as you agreed, his hands were already cupping your face, “I don’t care-” his lips finally, finally met yours as his feet began moving, walking you backwards until you hit the wall, “-I decide what I want and I’ve wanted you for so long, been jealous of the others for so. long.”
With the pact etching itself into your skin, you couldn’t deny him anything in that moment, completely enamored with the way Diavolo was practically begging for you, still, even though he already had you. 
9 -> 10
+bonus
When Simeon fell completely, wings black and horns protruding from his head, he desperately needed something to ground him while he worked through his new body and new status. 
“They’re so pretty, Si.” You were brushing through his wings softly, smiling at the contrast it brought to your glittery nails, “Your horns, too.” 
Simeon shifted, nervous despite your words at letting anyone else see his new form. “Do you really think so?” his spine straightened at the feeling of your lips pressing kisses down his back. 
“I do. You’re so beautiful- angel, human, or demon.” Nuzzling your head into his neck, you smiled against the skin, “In fact, I’m going to have to fight off so many demons just to keep you to myself.”
That made him chuckle, body relaxing into yours easily, “Nonsense…that might be quite a sight, though.” 
Adjusting wasn’t hard— he thinks he had an easier time at it than the brothers, but he couldn’t help but feel something was missing.
It was difficult to not fiddle with his outfit, but in Simeon’s defense, this was his first time at one of Diavolo’s formal parties as a demon— and the first time everyone saw his demon form. 
Tsking, you gently slapped his hands away and re-straightened his shirt. “Don’t pay any attention to the staring. You’re just too pretty to look away from.” 
He knew it was because, in all technicalities, he was a fallen angel, even if he’d been human before this. But he also knew that if anyone was an expert in unwanted spotlight attention, it was you. 
“I’ll try not to, thank you, Mc.” Simeon smiled at your pleased expression, “May I have this first dance?” 
As the night went on, he watched you dance with the other nine demons (and with the other members of Purgatory Hall). Everything was like it always was- nothing changed after he became a demon. Still though….
“Simeon!” you called out with a bright smile, hand waving him over to join the dancing circle you, Mammon, and Asmo had created. 
He felt as if there was something absent in him, something he couldn’t describe. “I’m coming.” 
Finally, Simeon figured out the missing puzzle piece. 
Laying with you, clad in only your underwear, always brought him a sense of love and tranquility. He simply couldn’t get over how vulnerable and exposed you were willing to be around him.
“Siiimeonnn~” you sang, laughing when his eyes fluttered sleepily. Your fingers carded through his hair, making him hum in delight, and you hummed right back at the faint feeling of his nails tracing over your pacts. 
He continues to trace the slightly raised skin, not thinking too much about it until you mumble something about how he’s always had a fascination for the marks adorning your body. At that, Simeon sits up quickly, all traces of tiredness gone.
You follow his lead worriedly, “Simeon? What’s-”
“Make a pact with me. Please, Mc, please, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more- I knew something was missing when I became a demon and now I know it’s because everyone else is bonded to you but me. I couldn’t have that with you as an angel or human but I can now. Please, Mc, allow me to be selfish just this once.”
“Oh, Si…” there was an undeniable warmth blooming in your chest. “You never needed a pact to feel bonded to me— you’ve always been perfect the way you are.” 
Simeon let out a shaky breath, allowing you to shift closer while his heart thumped wildly in anticipation. 
You moved even closer, and closer still, until you were practically in his lap. “You can be as selfish as you want with me. I’m yours, and now-“ your lips brushed, “-you belong to me, in turn. I’m honored you trust me enough for this, Simeon, of course I’ll make a pact with you.” 
And although your lips have met in this dance time and time again in the past, and will surely do the same in the future, it still sent shivers down his spine and heat to his face. 
When his hands move to trace your pacts out of habit again, his is the first he finds- guided by your own hands- and devils does that make Simeon’s head spin; he’s finally complete.
10 -> 11
++extra reverse!bonus [no specific demon form]
For someone with 72 pacts and ongoing shameless attempts at getting Lucifer into one, it surprisingly didn’t occur to Solomon once you became a demon (in his defense, he was more focused on your well being and adjustment). 
“You need to stop scratching, Mc. I know it itches, but you’re going to get an infection. You’ll get used to them eventually.” 
While he was lecturing, you were practically boneless in his lap, keening as he softly rubbed your horns and applied ointment on the irritated areas. 
“Are you even listening to me?” He huffed in false annoyance, feeling a smile fight its way onto his face when you whined at the loss of his touch. 
Nudging your head against his hand, you stubbornly huffed right back. “Yes. Don’t be mean- feels good. You're so sweet to me…” 
“Don’t get used to it, darling apprentice. You’ll learn how to do this yourself eventually, too.” 
And while you did in fact get the hang of caring for your own demon form, you simply enjoyed when he did it instead. 
“You know, each of the ten demons you have wrapped around your finger would jump at the chance to help you.” 
You hummed in agreement, curling in on yourself at the blissful feeling of Solomon grooming your extra appendage(s). 
He lifts a brow, “And yet I’m still called, why? No complaints here of course, but I am curious.” 
“Want you.” Stretching, you shift onto his lap to be closer, “Don’t you want me anymore, Sol?” 
Solomon inhales sharply, tilting his head so you have more room where you’re nipping at his pulse point with your sharpened canines, “Of course I do, Mc.” 
The lightbulb finally goes off in his brain when he catches you glaring at his bare upper body, to which he’s all too happy to oblige you : 
“What’s with that look?” Based on the tone of his voice, he very well knew what said ‘look’ was for. 
You bared your teeth anyway. “You’re mine.” nails scratched over the pacts on his lower stomach as your hands gripped and prodded at every small inch of bare skin you could see. 
Solomon wanted to see just how possessive a new demon could get. Did you have those instincts yet, especially since he was already yours beforehand? “I am. So why don’t you prove it?” 
“Gladly.” Your voice came out as a low growl, hands finally coming to a stop when your fingers brushed ever so slightly below his belt. “I think mine will go riiight…here.” You pressed down over his pelvis firmly. 
He tried not to stutter, “o-oh?” but he could feel the blush snaking up his face. 
“Make a pact with me, Solomon. ‘S not fair you have so many marks but mine…mine’ll be the prettiest, though…especially on you.” 
“Fuck- yes, I’ll form a pact with you, Mc—“ Solomon’s back arches at your pact etching into his skin, having forgotten the feeling, but the knowledge that it’s yours makes it all the more better. 
“mine, mine, mine. Is this proof enough, or do I need to prove it further?”
1K notes · View notes
pinkwright · 1 year
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if u rlly wanna kiss me | shuri udaku.
ƸӜƷ
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pairing — bestfriend!shuri x bar singer!y/n
trope — best friends 2 lovers
inspo — ride the dragon by fka twigs
warnings — shuri’s touchy, dom!shuri, fingering (r!receiving), light choking but also not rlly choking, reader is easily embarrassed (a lil projecting yk), they’re best friends, shuri is a lil mean n condescending, verbal kink (?), humiliation kink (again projection my apologies), slight love kink lol, dirty talk but its sweet imo, n i think that’s it.
a/n — completely forgot about taglists but u can send me an ask to be on it ! for now i'm just tagging the inspos n some of my fav accs <3
⟢˚ @rxcently @saintwrld @shurismainbxtch @playgurlxoxo @verachii @dejaonline @mbakuetshurisprincess @ppawmpkin
if you really wanna kiss me, kiss me quickly (do it quickly, do it, do it, do it quickly, do it, do it)
“thank you everyone”, you laugh. your voice rings through the area as the claps ring out, cheers echoing through your favourite bar to perform at. a cheeky smile is spreading across your cheeks and your heart is pumping with adrenaline.
your heart races as you make your way down the stairs, looking into the dark eyes of your best friend as she holds her hand out for you to grasp. “brilliant,” she firmly pulls you close. “as always, s’thandwa.” murmuring the words against the shell of your ear.
the blood rushes to your face, shielded by the depths of the tones of your skin as you flash her a quick shy smile and clear your throat, muttering her thanks under your breath. you let her walk you to your dressing room, exchanging greetings with both familiar and unfamiliar faces, as you take to trying to ignore shuri’s warm firm press on the skin of your lower back.
the soft neo-soul track dampens with the soft click of your dressing room door, and you go to gather your belongings, you stop to reapply your lip gloss and lock eyes with shuri in the mirror. she’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed across her torso, and you find she’s watching you like a cat does her prey.
“you’re so devastatingly gifted, you know that?” she sings in that low alluring voice of hers. the beating of your heart rings in your ears as her words settle into a tight ball in the depths of your stomach. you can hear yourself giggle nervously as you avert your eyes, muttering out a weak, “stop”, as you put your lip gloss and the last of your stuff in your bag.
shuri laughs softly with a smirk on her pretty lips, pushing off the door as you approach her, “you never could take a compliment.” the roll of your eyes prompts her to laugh louder as she opens the door for you to make your way to her car. the ignition rumbles into a start then she's reversing into the route to your apartment.
she hums softly, embarrassingly, to your own track and you take the opportunity to admire her. shuri’s and your relationship was hard to describe; while traditionally you were best friends – the pet names, the touches, and the way she spoke to you, not to mention the constant tension, all said something completely different. the logical part of you defined it as shuri’s interest in you but the sensing side of yourself denied that idea vehemently – there was just no way the queen of wakanda, the black panther, and quite frankly, the light of your life was in love with you.
“y/n, baby, you good?”
you snap out of your thoughts and find that you’re parked outside of your building. shuri’s dark eyes are intense as they roam over your seated figure and you smile softly, definitely not into you, “yeah, are you coming up tonight?” you blink at the insinuation in your words. opening the door to jump out and keeping it slightly ajar to hear her hum of agreement.
before you can get pulled into your thoughts, your loft apartment door is closing and you're throwing yourself on your couch with a deep sigh. shuri places herself right next to you, her hand sliding over your thigh as she guides your leg over hers. your foot falls between her man-spread legs and she essentially draws you right against her, inadvertently spreading your legs as your head lulls to rest in the dip of her neck. she sighs as she mindlessly traces patterns on your heated skin, and you try, desperately, to tame the fire growing under your skin.
the silence is filled with a tension you can feel with every expanse of your lungs, every beat of your heart, and every pump of blood through your veins but also carries that familiar comfort and calm that comes with being around shuri. her hand switches from brushing along your inner calf to the muscles of your inner thigh, and your breath hitches as you subconsciously drop your legs open that much more – just enough for her to notice, surely. her hand pauses and you freeze at the chuckle that leaves her lips, moving into her form, as if you could disappear into her if you pressed close enough.
“something you want to say to me, y/n?”
your head draws further into her neck as you stammer out her name, your ribs feeling like cages to the heat overflowing within you, “i think you know.” your voice shakes as you hear her let out a click of disapproval.
“i can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what i want to hear.” her voice has the condescending lure of a siren disparaging her victim. you whimper, she's being so mean. slowly, you bring yourself to straddle her and drop your gaze to her lips to avoid that look in her eyes, “you’re acting dumb on purpose.” you whine out in utter humiliation.
her hands grip your waist to still your gyrating hips, pressing you into her lap, “i need to hear you say it, angel. can you do that for me?” her lips are brushing your cheekbone, and she's squeezing your skin.
your lips part, wanting to hear more, and feel more, “shuri, please… please i need you.” you're breathless. the words spill out as desperate gasps of air and you're embarassed by how wet that makes you. you felt like you couldn't breathe, the heated atmosphere deliciously suffocating.
you feel her smirk spread as her hands slip down your thighs and play with the hem of your skirt, she hums as one hand makes its way to exactly where you need her. the other wrapping around your neck to bring your gaze to hers, she hates when your eyes aren’t on hers. you exhale a stuttered breath as you look into the intensity of them, she looks like she wants to ruin you. your pussy clenches as your hips buck, every breath shared between the both of you fuelling the pool between your legs.
those slender fingers slip into your panties and immediately slide over your clit, and you're moaning out. shuri's bringing your lips right against her own, not kissing you, just holding you there — breathing air into and stealing the air from your lungs, simultaneously giving you life, and taking it away from you.
“that’s it, my pretty fucking baby, let me feel you.”
her voice is coaxing you towards the ocean of your release and guiding you to rock your hips in time with her fingers. you’re whimpering, pleading with her to give you more, and more – you want everything she has to give. she chuckles, that condescending lilt humiliating you but simultaneously adding to the tightening in your core, she slips a finger into your entrance and you’re crying out into the swell of her lips, “please, please, please… shuri”.
“tell me you love me, s'thandwa, and i'll take you there.”
she starts to circle the swell of your clit with the pad of her thumb, your eyes momentarily shut, and all you can see, hear, and breathe is her. the exchange of breath, the coo of her voice, and suddenly you're insatiable — you need her. if you were more coherent you would have heard the mirrored desperation laced in her tone, like she needed to hear that to continue living, needed you to fuel her existence.
the warmth from the humiliation of feeling so exposed pushes you further, as she gives you a second finger and presses right against your spot. your hips are stuttering as you wetly gasp out her name. “i know, i know angel, that’s my spot, isn’t it? right there hm? that’s where you need me?”
your form twitches at her words, your pussy clenching around her fingers, drawing her deeper into you, wanting her home, “i love you; i love you so much, please shuri, please.” you’re crying out. your hand is gripping the arm working your dripping pussy, your hips canting to the pretty melody of her thrusts, and her eyes are boring into yours as you beg her to bring you over. her grip around your throat tightens slightly, her thumb brushing up and down the tendon, as she curls her fingers to brush your spot, her spot, and you’re stilling.
“ndiphilele s'thandwa sam' (come for me, my love).”
then you’re sobbing out your orgasm, your body is shaking violently, feeling shuri’s sharp intake of breath against your lips as she works and talks you through it. you’re panting into her mouth, tears collecting on the lashes of your shut eyes as you try to breathe through the aftershocks. you feel shuri’s praises rather than hear them, her hands caressing the bare expanse of your ribs, “there you go. breathe for me, nkosazana, come back to me.”
when you come to, shuri’s gazing at you so deeply that you’re forced to slightly pull back and look down at her lips again, “you haven’t kissed me”, you whisper. you roll your lips in embarrassment when she just tilts her head and smirks. “stop," you drag the syllable out, "i literally told you i love you while i was coming on your fingers, nigga. and you still haven’t kissed me.” you whine as you slightly push her shoulder.
“i love you, y/n. ungumoya endiphefumelayo, ungulukhanyo lwam' (you are the air that I breathe, you are [the giver of] my sight). the sole bearer of my soul," she pauses. her hand rises to gently grip yours, and bring it to rest on the beating of her heart, "and look at me. i need you to know that above all of that, uluvuko wam', sthandwa (you are [the cause of] my resurrection, love).”
she looks at you seriously, unrelentingly, wanting her words to sink into the crevices of your skin to carve themselves within your psyche, and your eyes instantly fill with tears as you whisper her name with a tremble.
a squeeze of your waist and she’s leaning in as you shakily exhale and, in a moment, her lips are on yours, moving in synchronicity, melting over yours like the sun into the horizon. shuri’s kissing you like she wants to breathe you in, trapping you in place so you have no choice but to take and take everything she’s giving you.
she loves you.
do it quickly ‘fore the end of the song, waiting a minute for your love.
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luvfy0dor · 6 months
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"We're gonna be timeless !!" ♡⁠˖ BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚
╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Chuuya Nakahara, Nikolai Gogol
Warning; Spoilers for mersault arc/Fyodors means of communication in his part, soft!Fyodor bc I am goin thru it, relationship intolerance, Nikolais bit isn't in exact correlation w/ the song
Description; Drabbles inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift
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A/N; Writing this while trying to figure out what to do for another fic help I'm so nervous the person isn't gonna like it but we ball 🫡 in Nikolais part I tried avoiding saying balls like it was the plague but yk
Love Letters w/ Fyodor Dostoevsky
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “I would've read your love letters every single night, and prayed to God you'd be comin' home alright”
• His love letters are romantic and very detailed, making sure he conveys exactly how much he misses you. He likes to write you short poems, understanding how much your heart swoons at the sweet and romantic words.
• Fyodor writes to you while he's in Yokohama, telling you how his plans are going and his estimated time of arrival at home. He continues this habit, even when in Mersault. He sends letters to you via the manipulated vampire guards, instructing them to take great care of the thin envelopes.
Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Your heart beats quickly as you made your way to your mailbox to check for a letter from your lover; already prepared for the slight sadness you'd experience should the small compartment be void of a note, yet still excited for the possibility of receiving one.
You excitedly open the door to the mailbox, grabbing the numerous envelopes that filled it. Sifting through them, you start to loose hope before your eyes land on the slightly sloppy handwriting of your boyfriend. You drop the various other things on the table, including bills and junk mail in order to pry open the letter excitedly. You make sure to do it carefully though as not to rip anything.
Once you've successfully separated the paper from the envelope, you lay down on the couch on your front while giggling excitedly. You unfold the paper and start to read the comforting and familiar handwriting, feeling as though this letter was a warm and sweet hug from the Russian man.
“My dearest, Y/N,
I know I restate the same thoughts in every letter I send to you, but I truly miss you more than anything in the outside world, including my freedom. I am perfectly fine in captivity, but it truly makes my heart ache to be without my love for so long. I hope you are doing well and holding up without me, not because I doubt your individuality, but I know just how much you miss me. It is the same way for me in this prison. Even with Dazais company, my heart doesn't feel nearly as full as it does when you are around, my dear. However, when our plan succeeds, we will get the happily ever after we deserve. As for our plans, they are going as intended currently.
I cannot wait to embrace you again and to feel the reassuring sensation of your breathing against my skin and feel your arms wrapped around me so tightly and lovingly. Though I would have went about my plans regardless of your support or not, I still appreciate you staying and supporting this, although I can only imagine it has caused you much stress. No worries though, my dear, we will prevail in the end no matter the obstacles. In the meantime, here is an excerpt from a poem I memorized many years ago, I feel it may catch your interest and reassure you a bit.
Wait for me, and I’ll be back,
Disregard the fate,
In the morning with my bag,
Should you only wait.
They will hardly understand,
How I could survive.
Waiting me from foreign land,
You have saved my life.
Let them say that it’s too late.
What you feeling tells?
I’ll be back, because you wait
Like nobody else.
Again, I miss you dearly. Just in case I needed to rephrase it, my heart will not rest until you are back in my presence, for I feel our souls are intertwined. I cannot wait to reunite with with you, my love. I will see you soon.
Sincerely, Fyodor Dostoevsky”
Your heart couldn't help but flutter as you held the letter to your chest, having rolled over onto your back. Your face is warm with blush as you smile and laugh. It was beyond you how Fyodor could remember all of the information he knew, as well as numerous languages and poetry, but you certainly weren't complaining. After all, your boyfriends sweet sayings made your day every time without fail. With every letter he sent, you only became more impatient for his return.
Eloping w/ Chuuya Nakahara
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “And run away and left it all behind, you still would've been mine, we would've been timeless”
• Eloping with Chuuyas is such a fulfilling act, especially when you don't have people whispering in your ear about how dangerous it could be.
Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Romantic relationships with port mafia executives as an outsider or regular civilian were frowned upon in the organization, meaning if you and Chuuya were going to be together, you needed to be sneaky about it. The port mafia had connections all over the city, which really limited your options for dates, but you were both content with just lounging in each other's homes.
You loved leaning against his chest on his couch, a movie playing softly in the background as you both cuddled together. You liked cooking with him in your kitchen, making a mess together while giggling and then having to clean it up together. Every time you would just sit in his arms in your back yard, watching the wind blow the flowers and leaves around, was a memory with Chuuya that you were grateful for.
So, when your lover proposed the idea of elopement to you, you were over the moon. You had always wanted to marry him, youve know that he was your soulmate from the get go. Even in a billion lifetimes, you felt as though you would find each other repeatedly. You said yes, ofcourse, and started planning immediately.
It had gone exactly according to plan, too. The both of you wore rather nice clothing for the actual ceremony, exchanging pretty rings and slipping them on to one anothers fingers. The kiss you shared, the first one of your elopement, was like no other. It felt sweeter with emotion and certainly tasted that way, too, because of Chuuyas cherry chapstick. You held each other's hands tightly as you quickly walked out of the courthouse, getting into the car that had been packed with as many necessary belongings as possible, including but not limited to clothing, legal documents, and money.
Sure, the luxury of a port mafia salary was one that would probably be missed by the both of you, allowing a nicer place to stay and finer wines to drink, but you could live with Chuuya in a rundown shack for all he cared. As long as he was with you, he would be perfectly happy. Chuuya is a romantic at heart under his tougher exterior, only letting bits and pieces of that romanticism slip through the cracks.
Chuuya drove with you down long and winding roads, the both of you deciding to end the day by stargazing while sitting on the trunk of the car. You sat on Chuuyas lap, his face pressed against your back. He drew soft shapes on any part of skin within his reach, even tracing out letters and words, spelling terms of endearment such as "my love".
"You know, I don't doubt one bit that mafia affiliates could be lurkin' around here, but it's much less likely. Something like this would be frowned upon real hard back home, which is why I feel I will never regret this decision." He says, speaking straight from his heart, not caring about vulnerability anymore. He had you, and you would be the very last person to take advantage of such a delicate thing.
A grin tugs at the corner of your lips with enough force to change your facial expression immediately. You leaned back into his touch, your hand caressing his that sat against your abdomen, hugging you closer to him. "I won't ever regret it either. I'll never regret any decision I make for you, my love." You softly murmur, looking up at the stars in the beautiful, blue night sky. The blue night sky filled with glamorous and shiny stars, yet they could never compare to the shimmery glint in Chuuyas eyes every time he came around you. The blue night sky that provided a calming darkness in the world, allowing you to further relax against your, now husband's, body.
"I'll always love you, darlin', I'm so happy I can openly have you now." He speaks quietly against your shoulder, almost whispering. You reach your hand back to gently touch his hair a bit. "Me too, my love. Me too."
Crowded Streets w/ Nikolai Gogol
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “In another life, you still would've turned my head, even if we met on a crowded street in 1944”
• Should you meet Nikolai during one of his street performances and accidentally fall victim to his juggling skills (or lack there of) , he would look forward to seeing you around the town and in the streets again to make up for his fumble with an entertaining mini-show.
Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Walking through the busy streets, your eyes fell upon a tall man, dressed as a jester while standing on the sidewalk. "A street performer." You simply thought, trying to discreetly glance at him without making eye contact and avoid the make believe obligation to give him money. You noticed that he was juggling, tossing three red balls in the rotational pattern while blabbering on about random things to passersby.
You lowered your head as to not look at him or make eye contact as you started to pass him, before you're head jerks right back up at the loud man's voice saying "watch out!". Right in front of your face was one of the red, foam spheres, kept motionless between two bony, lanky fingers covered in the cloth of the mans red gloves.
"Aw, I'm real sorry, darlin'! That sure was close, wasn't it?" He says, his bright, toothy grin glimmering in the sunlight. You nod, inhaling and steadying your heart rate.
"Yeah, no worries though, it didn't actually hit me." You say, a bit embarrassed by the situation for seemingly no reason. He slinks backwards into a completely upright position. "I wouldn't have let it hit you regardless, sweet cheeks." He says as he creates a portal and tosses his props into the yellow opening. He rests his fingers on his chin while examining you. "You've got quite a lovely complexion! You must be quite popular when it comes to romantic affairs, I'm sure of it." He compliments. The other people bustling by make you topple a bit as their shoulders bump into yours. Nikolai gently grabs your hand and leads you away from the crowd into a more spacious area.
"You're quite handsome if I do say so myself. Especially that scar." You say, pointing at the healed wound. He smiles. "Well thank you, how sweet is that." He excitedly beams. He removes his hat from his head and slightly bows towards you. "I have yet to formally introduce myself, I am Nikolai Gogol." He says, adjusting his posture yet again to be standing straight up. You smile. "Hello, Nikolai. My name is Y/n." You smile with your arms crossed in front of your chest.
"Well then, Y/n, can I ask you if you enjoy quizzes?" He asks, his head tilted, gravity dragging the long braid along with his movements. You furrow your eyebrows a little. "I'm not too fond of the academic ones, if I'm being honest. Silly ones I don't mind." You say with a small shrug of your shoulders. He laughs.
"Perfect! Let me quiz you then, Y/n." He takes your hands in his excitedly. "Are you aware of the difference between a jester and a clown?" He says, his face about the length of a outstretched palms thumb to pinky tip away from yours. You think for a moment before speaking. "Clowns follow a routine, whereas jesters are more spontaneous and satirical, no?" You say, gazing into his eyes, surprising yourself with your eagerness to hear words of confirmation or denial slip from between his crimson painted lips. He pulls back and claps a bit.
"That's right! Marvelous! How smart you are." He says, removing his hat and placing it on top of your head. "Not many people get that right, you know? Many peoples first answer revolves around a jester being a part of a royal court, but that is simply not their differentiating characteristic." He says, patting your shoulder with a grin. You keep eye contact for a couple of seconds before he erupts into a fit of snickers.
"I'm around this area often during the week. You should come see me, I can promise to give you the very best show I can muster." He grins and with that, he is gone through a portal. He has left you there, a bit flustered as you held onto the hat tightly. You suppressed the excitement in your heart before sneaking out into the crowded pathways once again. Maybe you would take him up on that.
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pregnant-piggy · 10 months
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hey I want wondering if you could do a harry j potter x reader oneshot when the are dating for a few months (takes place in ootp or hbp I don’t really mind which) and reader is still not completely comfortable with cuddling and that kind of stuff with harry cause she just isn’t used to physical contact and one day when harry wants to cuddle with her in the evening she stiffens or flinches and harry is extremely worried (yk him and his adorable overreacting) cause he doesn’t know if she has any trauma or something and you can make the rest up just make it extremely fluffy (only if you want to do it tho I just think it’d be very cute <3)
hi love, so while my requests are technically not open, you were lucky there weren't many requests from my celebration so i did write this :) and it wouldn't be a blurb from me if it wasn't 1.3k words (i swear i'm not doing it on purpose)
Flinch
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The fire spit out sparks near your feet as you poured over your Divination homework. You were halfway but it was becoming harder and harder to come up with solutions and explanations of your dreams and with every minute that passed your concentration grew smaller. Not that there had been much to begin with when you'd started, but whether you liked it or not, the deadline was approaching fast.
Just as you'd finished describing your dream of last Thursday—something to do with unruly black hair and glasses—you got interrupted. Someone dropped to the couch behind where you were sitting on the floor and let out a loud sigh. Then in the corner of your eye you saw a flash of red hair darting to the last empty chair on your side, followed by a "How gentleman-like of you, Ron".
Hermione sat down next to you on the floor and glanced at your parchment. "I feel sad for you."
"You should," you said, dropping your quill and massaging your forehead with your fingers. "It's a wreck."
"Wait a minute." Ron perked up from his slouch in the armchair. "Why did you not feel sorry for me when I complained about it today?"
Hermione shook her head. "Because you don't even try, Ron! You predicted you'd be caught by a mob of horses and be forced to turn into a centaur."
"So?" Ron shrugged. "That's just what my dream meant."
"Be careful," you said to Ron. "Or soon you'll dream it's a mob of Hermiones chasing you."
Ron shivered as if that was the worst nightmare anyone could have and behind you Harry barked a laugh. You looked back at your boyfriend and smiled. The dating thing was still new and you were trying to find your way with it, but you were glad to have made him laugh.
"Hush now," you said, waving a hand towards Ron. "I want to finish this."
You did get silence but only for five minutes or so before Ron started to talk about the upcoming quidditch game against Ravenclaw. You, who had been busy coming up with a dream for Friday—maybe Ron's technique wasn't all that bad after all—got pulled from your focus. You tried for ten more minutes, but eventually had to admit that you were doing more bad than good and would have to correct everything you wrote tomorrow so you gave up  You threw your quill down and rested back against the bottom of the sofa, right next to Harry's legs.
Without turning away from his conversation, he laid his hand atop your head and started massaging it.
You froze, heart skipping a beat and pumping twice as fast after. Every muscle in your body grew rigid, frozen, and you carefully moved away, pretending to grab something of the table, but in fact trying to get away as unnoticeable as possible.
No one noticed. Harry's hand fell back but he said nothing nor did he move closer again. With a pounding heart you stared at your Divination paper, pretending you were fixing a mistake.
It wasn't Harry's fault. Really not. You'd never been good with physical contact but you also never thought it a real problem till you got together with Harry. Now each time he wrapped an arm around you or reached for your hand, you froze, panicked, feared. You weren't even sure why.
You also didn't know if Harry had noticed. He had never said anything about it and whenever it happened and you pulled away he seemed not to notice it. But you knew it wasn't fair to him and you did try to do better. Just yesterday he had taken your hand and without too much panic you'd held onto it for the entire walk.
It was a slow process and many times you were on the verge of telling him about it, but you were scared.
After a few minutes of calming down, you got up and sat next to Harry on the sofa, leaving enough space so you weren't touching but no one would think anything of it.
Ron was animatedly telling a story about Flitwick who had fallen off his chair and Harry turned to you.
"You alright?" he asked softly.
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You bit your lip and Harry's gaze flicked down but back up quickly.
"Are you sure?" he went on. "You seem a bit off."
"No, all's good. Don't worry." You shrugged. "Just tired."
"Okay." Harry's mouth split into a smile. "'Cause you'd tell me if something was wrong right?"
"Of course." You tried a smile and apparently it was convincing enough for him to drop the subject.
"It's not that funny, Ron," Hermione said, tearing your focus from Harry. She shook her head while Ron wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
Next to you, Harry smiled lazily. "It kinda was. He made the funniest noise ever." He proceeded to make some high-pitched noise that had Ron roaring with laughter in his chair until he fell off.
"Serves you right," Hermione mumbled, but there was a smile on her face.
You laughed and sunk a little more into the sofa. So much that you almost didn't see what happened next to you. Almost.
Harry stretched out his arm to lay it over your shoulders and before you could stop it, you flinched.
And this time there was no mistaking it. He noticed.
"What-?" he stuttered.
Your eyes were wide, your body frozen in shock. You hadn't meant for it to happen, didn't even know it would happen. You'd been on edge all day, tired, overworked, but you never figured it would end up like this.
And unfortunately not only Harry noticed.
"Ron," Hermione said. "Ron, come on. I want to talk to you."
Ron looked up from where he hadn't even bothered get up from the floor. "Why?"
"Just something." Hermione's eyes flicked to your frozen body and Harry's face that you were too afraid to look at. "Quickly. Come on, Ron."
"Alright, fine. But I don't see what could possibly be so important."
"Just come!"
Hermione quickly left, Ron following after her reluctantly. You were glad she'd given you some privacy, but you didn't want to see the undoubtedly hurt look on Harry's face.
"y/n?" Harry didn't reach out for you and somehow that hurt. "Can you look at me?"
You took a deep breath and looked up. You had expected pain, anger, disappointment, but instead there was only worry and confusion. Harry's eyes were full of concern and that gave you the slightest of hope. He didn't hate you.
"What happened?" he asked softly.
"I'm trying really hard, Harry. It's just... physical contact and touch and everything---it doesn't come easy to me. I don't know why; it's just always been so for me." You looked down at your hands in your lap. "And I want to change that. I do. But it takes time."
Harry was silent for a long time and you didn't look at him. You'd understand if he didn't want to see you any longer, if he wanted to break things off. You'd hate that, of course, but you'd understand.
"We have time."
"What?"
You lifted your gaze to his face. He was watching you with a smile.
"You said it takes time. We have time. All the time in the world if we need."
"You mean that," you realised.
"I do. I don't want to lose you over something like this. We'll find our way with it. I promise."
A watery laugh fell from your lips. You nodded, more relieved than words could describe. He didn't hate you, not at all. Your fears had been ungrounded.
"Thank you," you said. And very carefully, you placed your hand atop Harry's one. Nerves spiked in your chest, but you pushed them down. "It's not that I hate you touching me. It's just a bit more difficult."
Harry turned his hand over and held yours. He was careful, soft.
"That's alright," he said. "I'm still yours."
- - - - - - -
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