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#you need to leave her alone dickhead
yuukei-yikes · 1 year
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i hate how it's implied kano just left takane to sort out getting her body back by herself. like he just takes her there and then goes sob outside. fuck you fuck you fuck you i know kano was in a bad headspace but he is ALWAYS in a bad headspace he SHOULD AT LEAST help his friend out of the fucking tank especially after lore dumping her abt his tragic life story the whole way there
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talentforlying · 3 months
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LET ME ASSIGN YOU AN AESTHETIC WORD.
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CAFUNÉ. cafuné means running your fingers through someone's- perhaps a lover, hair. it's such an intimate, affectionate way of showing love. if you got this result, you're a romantic at heart; very sweet, delicate, precious wandering soul. aren't you scared of your heart being too big for your body? somehow, you remind me of that pretty coral pink that bleeds into a soft indigo when the sun is slowly setting.
what i'd like to tell you is that we can't save everyone, and that's okay. you're doing your best, and it's enough.
tagged by: @danversiism!! <3 tagging: you!!
#there's literally a post at the top of my drafts Right Now talking about how much of a romantic he actually is#under all the sarcasm and bullshit he's a genuine fucking softie. he Craves love. he gives it away freely.#cafuné specifically makes me think of when he first got back together with kit ryan#and one of the first things they did as a couple was stay in bed together for 3 days. didn't leave the flat#just had nothing more important in the world than being with each other and that's how he is in MOST relationships motherfuckers!!!#justice league dark's womanizing dickhead has rotted people's brains!! commitment issues my ass this man WANTS to settle down!!!!#anyway. VERY passionate about this if you can't already tell#( character study. ) A WALKING PLAGUE OF A MAN.#( dash games. ) ALRIGHT YOU OVERGROWN LARPERS! HERE!#idk it's always 'wrecked-looking husk of a man' THIS and 'wall-licking little cryptid' THAT and 'where's that gif of matt ryan in leather'#NAH MAN. bring me the guy who spent almost a full fucking day at the shops trying to find kit the perfect christmas present!!#bring me the guy who took a depressed god out to share a coffee bc the god just looked Too Fucking Sad to leave alone!!#bring me the guy who started singing the beatles in the bar & got everyone else to join in just bc someone seemed to need a leg up!!#where is the man who took abby arcane out dancing!! tucked her in!! bought her breakfast in the morning!! all because she seemed lonely!!#that's this motherfucker!!!!!!#and yeah he is ALSO a wrecked-looking husk of a cryptid who ROCKS a bit of leather but that other guy is still in there too!!!!!#idk. IDK. i feel many things about constantine's softness always being cut away by the sharp edges of his tongue and his suffering#40th birthday party constantine lives rent-free in my skull forever and you can never take him away from me
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grumpypixistix · 5 months
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The lab assistant
Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Shy!Reader
Warnings- Face sitting, slight corruption kink, slightly perverted!Miguel (if you squint), co-workers being dickheads, semi-public sex (let me know if I missed anything! )
MINORS DNI 18+
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You had been working at Alchemax for a few months now. A few of your colleagues were generous enough to introduce you to the workplace and the other workers, but there was one person you couldn’t keep your eyes off of.
Miguel O’Hara.
When you first introduced yourself to him, he had already taken a liking to you. Something about how shy yet sweet you were made his pulse quicken and his cheeks burn. The way you smiled at him as you tried to introduce yourself, nervous about your first day at Alchemax. But you quickly felt at home when Miguel began to bond with you by taking over your “tour” of the place, making great conversation. Soon enough, your shell had cracked and you started talking about your personal interests, how you got hired, etc.
About a week after that day, he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about you for some reason. He didn’t know what to make of it, thinking it wasn’t too serious.
But then you started appearing in his dreams.
Miguel would dream about leaving marks everywhere on your body to claim you as his, fucking every ounce of innocence out of you.
And when he would wake up in a cold sweat, his cock was nearly on the verge of exploding, precum dripping everywhere. He felt guilty about it afterwards, it was just wrong for him to think about his colleague like that.
But you plagued his mind consistently. The dreams slowly turned into daily thoughts that he finally caved into, fisting his cock at least four times a day to the thought of your body. But you had no clue what he was doing after he got off of work. You just assumed that he only saw you as a co-worker and nothing else, maybe even a good friend.
But God, were you so far off from the truth.
As you entered the building for another shift of the week, your boss had approached you with some new information.
“I’m really sorry this is a last minute notice, but I need you to stay a little later. I tried to get some other people to stay instead, but all of them couldn’t do it… but on the bright side, Miguel volunteered to stay, so you won’t be completely alone.”
Great, just what you needed. A longer shift after your horrible week.
Even though some of your colleagues were nice to you, there was a group that wasn’t as generous as them. Some of them claimed that you were too clumsy or stupid to be an assistant, others claimed you were like a lost dog or a prude. Whatever they said, you tried not to pay attention to it too much. But there were days where it would get to you, and this week happened to have a bunch of those days.
You just nodded at your boss and shot him the best smile you could muster up.
“Alright then, that shouldn’t be a problem, sir” You said in a friendly tone.
“At least Miguel will be here with me… maybe I can talk to him, get my stress out” You thought to yourself as you walked off to start your shift.
When you walked into the lab and took your coat off of the hanger, you could hear some voices from the other side of the room.
“Oh great, look who’s here.”
“God, I don’t even know why she’s still here. She should’ve been fired months ago, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing.”
“I’m surprised Miguel even hangs out with her, she’s such a prude.”
“Hell, you should’ve seen the look on her face yesterday. She practically bursted into tears when we called her useless.”
The other comments stung a little, but what got you the most was the part about Miguel. Sure, you had developed a small crush on him, but that had nothing to do with your guy’s friendship. The fact that the other colleagues had judged your bond just to get a laugh hurt you more than you felt it should’ve.
God forbid if they ever found out about your feelings for Miguel… you couldn’t help but become paranoid over the idea.
As you tried to ignore the group across the room and focus on your tasks, it seemed that one of them had read your mind and called you over.
Shit.
“Hey, newbie! Come over here real quick, we gotta ask you somethin“ One of your colleagues called out.
Your heart pounded hard inside your chest, quietly gulping before walking over to the group with a small sigh.
“What do you need?” You asked gently, silently praying it was something work-related and not just making fun of you again.
Some of the others chuckled and chattered a little bit before falling quiet.
“Sooo, you’re friends with Miguel, right?” The female colleague from before asked.
Your palms began to grow sweaty as sirens went off in your mind, biting your cheek before answering.
“Yeah, why?” You raised your brow at your co-worker.
Your co-worker slowly smiled. Oh no.
“Well, we were just thinking… with the way you act around him and all… you definitely have a thing for him, don’t you?”
Your whole chest sunk to your stomach, wishing this was just some horrible dream and that you would wake up soon. Trying to play it off, your eyes widened at the question and you shook your head vigorously.
“What?? No, he’s just my friend-“
“That wasn’t my question. I asked if you have a thing for him” She cuts off coldly.
Some of the others snickered quietly, making your throat close up as you tried to hold your emotions back. Your face contorted into confusion at the strange question, the others taking notice of it.
“Oh my god, she’s clueless” One of the colleagues muttered with a small chuckle.
Your co-worker lets out a small laugh as she noticed your face, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.
“Here, let me dumb it down for you: do you ever fantasize about having sex with Miguel?”
Your whole face flushed bright red as it clicked into your head, slowly shaking your head.
“N- No… that’s… that’s wrong” You stuttered, looking at your co-worker.
She stares at you with a raised brow, not believing you at all.
“Okay, sure… but you still like him, right? Being a prude and all, surely you at least have a crush on him.”
“Please, don’t call me that-“
“Or what? Huh? You gonna run off to your little boyfriend and cry in his arms? I’m sure he’ll baby you, he does every time he sees you” She hisses.
The feeling in your throat grew even stronger, your eyes slowly beginning to water. But you didn’t want to prove her theory, so you just stood there silently, not knowing what else to say. As the silence grew more, some of the colleagues just laughed.
“Wow… you really are stupid, aren’t you?”
“Who’s stupid?” A voice emerges from the entrance of the room, making everyone fall silent.
It was Miguel, standing with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. The group of colleagues weren’t laughing or smiling anymore- instead, they actually looked nervous. The female coworker looked over at you for a quick moment before flashing a smile at Miguel.
“Oh, nothing! It was just something we were talking about from yesterday. Right, hon?” The co-worker said in an overly sweet tone, forcing herself to smile at you.
You froze, not wanting anymore conflict with the group, so you just went along with it. You quietly nodded your head and looked over at Miguel, giving your best smile.
“Mhm, it was just stuff from yesterday” You mustered up as your voice shook a little.
Miguel didn’t buy it at all, seeing how your eyes glistened, tears threatening to leave them at any second. He shot your co-worker a glare before looking back at you, a sigh leaving his lips.
“Ah, alright then… do you have the paperwork from last week? I just wanna make sure everything is right” Miguel spoke to you, his face softening a little.
You quickly nodded and walked away from the group to your clipboard that was in one of the desk drawers, skimming through the pile of papers to look for the documents. The group just watched as you eventually found the papers Miguel was referring to, handing them to him. He took out his glasses from his coat pocket and put them on, reading the sheet of paper. After a few moments of silence, Miguel took off his glasses and looked over at you, handing the paper back.
“This is perfect. Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve ever seen paperwork better than this and I’ve worked here longer than anyone else has” Miguel praised, a gentle smile formed on his lips.
“Thank you, Miguel. That means a lot to me” You hummed in appreciation, returning the smile.
The praise alone made you forget about the whole situation from earlier, but the smile comforted you even more. Your cheeks burned up as you felt your whole body tingle, a small smile creeping up your lips. The feeling Miguel made you have was insatiable, you just couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted more of him, to have his lips on yours…
You almost forgot that there were other people in the room. Almost.
The sound of low muttering made your head turn towards the group, the co-worker giving you a dirty look before the group parted separate ways. You set the paper on the table and Miguel leans down to whisper in your ear.
“We’ll talk about this later.”
Your head spun when you felt his warm breath tickle your skin, almost not realizing what he just said. When you finally processed it, you looked at Miguel and nodded a little. For once, you were actually kind of glad your boss made you work later.
After hours of working and following Miguel around for assistance (as he asked for your presence), it was time for the others to go home. Usually, you would be getting off at this time, but since you had to stay later, that meant you would have to pick up dinner on your way back home. You didn’t really mind since it would save you time and energy to make food at home.
Plus you didn’t mind since it meant you could spend more time with Miguel.
Speaking of which, you couldn’t help but notice something was a little off with him. You assumed it was because of what happened earlier, because he seemed a little more tense than normal. But after everyone had left, he looked over at you, glad that the two of you were finally alone. You were finishing out today’s paperwork, slouching over the desk as you tried to fight off your tiredness. Miguel walked over to you and gently took the pen out of your hand, turning your chair around to face him.
“Everyone left, it’s just us. Now… about what happened earlier…” Miguel started, bending down to your height, “Tell me. What exactly did they say to you?”
Your face burned up a little as his face was inches away from yours, struggling to find your words. He just stared at you, waiting for an answer. But after a few moments of silence, his face softened and he let out a small breath, resting his large hand on your thigh.
“I won’t say a word to anyone, I promise. I just want to know what’s wrong… when I got here, you were on the verge of tears” Miguel spoke softly.
The feeling of his hand on your thigh made your chest flutter and your stomach turn, trying to keep your composure as much as you could. He was only just trying to comfort you… right?
“They… they were asking me questions…” You began, still debating whether or not you should leave out a few details.
Miguel hummed a little as he listened to you, his other hand now on your other thigh as he gently caressed your skin. Your stomach felt fuzzy and warm, avoiding eye contact with him.
“Questions about what? C’mon hermosa, you can tell me” He coos, tucking a small strand of hair out of your face.
You swallowed hard and bit your lip hard before answering hesitantly.
“They were… questions a- about you.”
Miguel stopped and looked at you, gently grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.
“What did they ask about me?”
You stared up at him for a few moments and finally spoke again.
“They… they were asking if… I liked you” You whispered quietly.
That caught Miguel off-guard.
His eyes widened at you just the slightest, analyzing your face to see if you were messing with him. Once he noticed your flushed cheeks and nervous look, he knew you weren’t joking. After a moment of tense silence, Miguel licked his lips and started talking.
“…Do you?” Miguel asked lowly, looking down at your lips and up at your eyes.
His question had you in a slight panic, weighing out the odds. If you told him how you felt, it would either change your entire friendship or you would be stuck working alone for the rest of your time at Alchemax. Either one of those options sounded horrible, but if you didn’t tell him now, you were certain the group from earlier would do it eventually. Your heart raced so quick, Miguel swore he could hear it clearly. A shaky sigh left your lips and you nodded at him.
“Yeah… I do” You mumbled, scared that he would react negatively.
But instead, Miguel just chuckled softly and smiled at you, his hand cupping your face and his thumb dragging down your bottom lip.
“That’s good to know… because I’ve also liked you for quite some time now” Miguel responded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
Your eyes widened at his response, a look of hope on your face as you slowly smiled.
“Really?” You squeaked.
Miguel chuckled again and nodded at you, his eyes flicking down to your lips.
“Of course I do… how could I not?” He whispered, his face slowly inching closer to yours.
Your face flushed all the way to your ears, finding yourself drifting towards him. Closer, closer and closer until you finally feel his warm lips on yours. It felt like hundreds of fireworks were exploding in your chest, slowly wrapping your arms around him and holding Miguel close. You were almost afraid to let go, and he seemed to notice this. Miguel gently moved his hands down to your waist, pulling you up out of the chair and into his arms. The more you kissed him, the harder it became for Miguel to keep his composure. He wanted to take things slow with you, not wanting to scare you away. But God, was it a challenge for him to just keep his hands on your hips.
After a little bit, Miguel finally broke the kiss to catch his breath, already panting softly. He looked at you and let out a groan that awoken something inside you.
“Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me?” Miguel huffed quietly, his thumbs barely peeking up the hem of your shirt and rubbing the bare skin of your stomach.
You just stared up at him, your mind still foggy from the kiss you two had shared moments ago. You shook your head with a quiet “No…”
Miguel sighed and looked down at your chest, his cock twitching inside his pants. He didn’t even bother hiding his erection anymore, moving your hips against his to show you the effect you had on him. You let out a gasp at the strange feeling, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your whole body felt hot now.
“I can’t help it… you’re just so fucking sweet… you haunt me in my dreams, I swear to god. Every night when I go to bed, all I can dream about is you and that fucking body of yours… all just for me.”
Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to say those kind of things to you. Normally, you’d be freaked out or even scared… but something about the way Miguel looked at you made you feel different. You weren’t sure if it was from the kiss earlier or your feelings for him in general, but you felt… ready in a sense. When Miguel saw your eyes widen at his words, his face dropped as he suddenly became worried.
“…Was that too much?” Miguel whispered gently, his brows furrowed together.
You slowly shook your head and placed a soft kiss to his cheek.
“No… I- If anything, I… I sometimes have dreams about you, too…” You admitted with a quiet tone, looking away.
Miguel nearly went off the rails when you told him that, his pants feeling tighter around his dick. He moved you closer to him once more, moving your hair to the side.
“Mierda… Tell me about your dreams…” Miguel mumbled against you, pressing slow kisses to your cheek and down your neck.
Your thighs pressed together as a wet patch formed in your panties, your stomach flipping as you felt his lips against your skin. A shaky breath left your mouth, nearly moaning from how good it felt to have Miguel treat you this way. It was definitely wrong, but it felt so right. If anyone else had stayed with you two during the late shift and caught you like this, you’d be fired on the spot.
But nobody else was here. Just the two of you.
“S- sometimes I dream about you k- kissing me like this… and even…” Your voice faltered as you quickly grew shy again, biting down on your lip.
Miguel kissed and nipped at your neck, leaving little marks on your skin.
“Go on, Cariño…”
You swallowed before speaking again, letting a soft moan slip out.
“Even… touching me…”
Miguel moaned at that, causing your head to spin even more. You felt so hot that you swore you were going to pass out, but luckily you didn’t. He moved up to place a firm kiss on your lips, pulling away to look at you.
“Have I done anything more than just touching you in your dreams?” Miguel muttered lowly, his lips wet and raw.
You thought for a second before slowly shaking your head with a small breath.
“I always woke up before… before I could find out…” You answered Miguel.
Miguel frowned at that, looking at the marks on your neck before making direct eye contact with you. He sighed and shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“Well… do you wanna know what I’d do to you in my dreams?”
You nodded at him, genuinely curious as to what he dreamed about when you weren’t there with him. His forehead pressed against yours as his lips were centimeters away from your lips, his hands trailing from your waist down to your ass.
“In my dreams… I’d have you sit on my face and I’d make you cum over and over again until your legs give out..”
The image Miguel just gave you nearly made you collapse. You felt weak to your knees, a gentle whine escaping your lips. Miguel squeezed your thighs and kissed you once more, his hands moving up to the hem of your shirt. He parted from you to look at your face.
“Can I?” Miguel asked, wanting to make sure you were okay with this before he went any farther.
You looked at him for a few moments before making a decision, whispering out a small “Yes” to him. He took that as his green light and gently took your coat off first before moving to your shirt. He rolled the material up your body and over your head, helping you take your shirt off. Once you were topless in front of him, Miguel’s eyes scanned your chest. He muttered something quietly in Spanish before letting out a breathy sigh.
“Have I ever told you just how beautiful you are?” He coos softly.
Your face burned up as you felt vulnerable in front of him, but when Miguel spoke, you slowly started to become more comfortable. A bashful expression appeared on your face as you just shook your head.
“Not entirely…”
Miguel hummed gently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, reaching towards your back to unclip your bra.
“Well… I think you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met… every time I see you, it’s always hard for me to look away. Shit, baby, it’s even hard for me to look away in my dreams. I wouldn’t give it up for any other view… you’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart” Miguel spoke in between kisses to your face and lips while gently kneading your exposed breasts.
You couldn’t help but moan at his words mixed with his touch, kissing him back each time he placed a kiss onto your soft lips. Miguel couldn’t get enough of the sweet sounds you made, craving even more from you. His hands moved down to unbutton your pants, taking off every last piece of clothing on your body before leaving you completely naked in front of him. Miguel’s breath hitched as he looked at your body.
It was even better than he imagined in his dreams.
Miguel placed small kisses down your neck and collarbone until he made it to your breasts, gently kissing and sucking one while his hand toyed with the other. The sensation made you moan a little louder, biting down on your lip to contain yourself. Miguel seemed to take notice of this and removed his mouth from your nipple.
“You don’t have to be quiet, muñeca… it’s just us. I wanna hear your pretty moans.. god, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long…”
As soon as he said that, his hands gripped your hips and he stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. Suddenly, he placed you on top of him as he laid down on the large table in the room. You could feel the tent in his pants right against your wet pussy, a low whine leaving your lips which caused Miguel to groan softly.
“Want you to sit on my face, querida… please…” Miguel begged softly, his hands still on your hips.
You let out a whimper at his request, reluctantly moving so your hips were directly above his face. You were hovering over him, not knowing what else to do. Miguel let out a quiet sigh, not wanting to wait any longer. He wanted to taste you… he had to taste you.
“You’re hovering, sweetheart. Lower your hips for me, ‘kay?” Miguel instructed, looking up at you from between your legs.
You looked down at him, slightly embarrassed from the position you were in. Regardless of how shy you became, you obeyed Miguel anyways, slowly lowering your hips a little.
“Is this g-“ Before you could even get your question out, Miguel’s mouth immediately attached to your clit.
You let out a loud gasp and moaned, Miguel’s tongue exploring your folds and licking up your juices. He let out a low growl that sent vibrations through your body, making you squirm and cry out.
“Joder, nena, sabes tan dulce… todo para mi~” Miguel moaned, his head moving up more to lick and suck on your clit again.
You whimpered as he sucked on your clit again, afraid that you would crush him if you moved your hips any lower. Miguel’s hands moved up to your ass and groped it tightly, his tongue poking your hole and sliding inside of you. The warm and wet feeling made your hands slam down on the table, trying not to drop your hips directly onto his face. Small pants left your mouth as his tongue fucked your hole and his nose brushed up against your sensitive clit, moaning as you kept your eyes shut tightly.
That’s when you felt Miguel’s hands grip your hips and his tongue slips out of your pussy, making you whine in response. You gasp as he pulls your hips down with such force, your eyes widening as you look down at him.
“Ay, Cariño, what did I tell you ‘bout the hovering? Stop hovering and sit on my face” Miguel scolded, spanking your ass as he goes back to licking and sucking your poor abused clit.
You cried out as you felt a new wave of pleasure form inside you, sobbing as he hit all of your spots with his mouth.
“Miguel~! Mig-“ You gasped, pulling his hair with one hand as the other stayed on the table for support.
But Miguel could care less if you suffocated him. Hell, he wanted you to. The sound of his name coming from your lips nearly made him cum in his pants right then and there. Every pretty noise that came out of your mouth was better than his dreams alone, not wanting you to stop. Miguel kissed and teased your clit more, savoring your taste as much as possible. His breath grew heavier and heavier as sweat trickled down his temples, burying his face in your pussy.
Miguel’s mouth left your clit with a small ‘pop’ as he re-entered his tongue inside your soaked hole, making you rut your hips against his face. The way his nose bumped your clit and his warm tongue stuffed inside you made your eyes roll back, your legs twitching already.
“God, don’t stop~ please don’t stop, Miggy~ feels s’good~” You begged pathetically, your shy demeanor now leaving your body.
Miguel moaned against you and spanked your ass hard once more, his fingers digging into your thighs. His own hips twitched against nothing as he listened to your pleads and moans, fucking you with his tongue relentlessly. With the way you begged so nicely for him to keep going, Miguel swore he could feel his precum seeping through his boxers and pants. How could he refuse you?
“Miguel-! I- I think I’m-“ You tried to warn him that you were close, your legs nearly giving out on you.
If it weren’t for Miguel’s large hands holding your hips up, you definitely would’ve collapsed on his face. But you were so desperate to cum, continuing to grind on his face as he licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. He caught his breath and looked up at you for a moment, his eyes dark and full of arousal.
“Go ahead, princesa… cum for me” Miguel moaned, going back to sucking your clit.
With just those words alone, the coil inside your stomach broke. You cried out loudly as you came, chanting his name over and over again. Your legs shook and you nearly collapsed onto him, Miguel catching you just in time. He licked up every drop of your release, making sure to not let it go to waste. You whimpered as he continued to lick your sensitive pussy, becoming overstimulated from his tongue. Your hands pressed down onto the table to hold yourself up, catching your breath as you carefully crawled off of his face.
As you sat down on the table next to Miguel, he sat up straight and faced you, panting heavily. Your eyes widened as you saw his chin was soaked from your juices, a dark blush forming across your cheeks. Miguel noticed your face as he finally caught his breath, a small laugh leaving his lips.
“How do you feel?” Miguel asked, licking his lips and wiping his chin off with his coat sleeve.
A soft breath left your mouth as you looked at him, a sheepish smile forming on your face, “I feel… I feel like that was the best thing I’ve ever experienced..”
Miguel chuckled and leaned over to you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. You melted against him and returned the kiss, slowly pulling away to look at him.
“I’m glad I could make you feel like that… say, uh… our shift actually ended like… 10 minutes ago” Miguel spoke as he checked his watch.
Your eyes widened as you looked around for your discarded clothes, Miguel quickly grabbing them before you could get off of the table.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got it. Just sit for a little bit, catch your breath” He mumbled, putting your clothes back on for you.
Your chest fluttered as he did so, smiling at him in a loving way. Miguel noticed this and chuckled as he helped you put your panties back on.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing… I was just wondering.. do you wanna stay the night at my place?” You offered, moving your hips a little as Miguel clothed you.
Miguel grinned widely at the offer, placing a peck to your forehead and nodding.
“Of course, I’d like that… I’ll buy dinner for us on the way there. My treat for this” Miguel hummed, putting your shirt on and placing soft kisses to your knuckles.
Your smile widened as he said that, pulling him in for a kiss. Miguel wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back, his forehead pressed against yours as you two pulled away. He helped you off of the table and the both of you made your way out of the building, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb across your skin.
“Oh, by the way… I heard everything that happened with your co-workers. I was listening the whole time” Miguel admitted, looking over at you.
Your head whipped over to him, a surprised expression on your face. “You were-??”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I actually got promoted as a manager a few weeks ago, so…”
Your eyes widened as a small gasp left your lips. “Wait, so that means-“
“That means you won’t be having to deal with them for much longer. I know those assholes have been messing with you since you got here… plus, everything they said about you is wrong. You’re the best worker this place has to offer and those dickheads have been here longer than you have” Miguel responded to you, placing a kiss to your temple.
A grin formed on your lips as joy filled your chest, squeezing Miguel’s hand.
“Thank you, Miguel… that means everything to me.”
“Of course. I gotta make sure my girl is okay.”
You let out a laugh as he said that, placing a soft kiss on his cheek as you walked with him down the street.
“So, is that your way of saying I’m your girlfriend now?” You chuckled.
“Only if you want to be” Miguel answered with a smirk.
You gently smacked his shoulder with your other hand and scoffed playfully, earning a laugh from him.
“Of course I do, Miguel.”
“Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months
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Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader
Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?
Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.
Word count: 7k.
Warnings: Some injury detail.
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“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”
Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.
Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.
Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.
“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”
“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”
“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”
“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”
“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.
He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.
Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.
He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.
Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?
He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.
“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”
Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”
“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”
“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”
“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”
“I’m not saying that, Az—”
“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”
“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”
“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”
“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”
Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.
He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.
And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”
“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”
Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”
“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”
Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.
“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”
As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”
“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”
That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.
Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”
Az says again, “Fuck you.”
Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”
“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.
“Where are you going?” Az asks.
“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”
He has no idea how right he is.
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It starts with the fire going out. Always.
The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.
You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.
Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.
Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.
Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.
But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.
“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.
“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”
It.
“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”
“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”
You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.
Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”
The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”
You do not move.
“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”
They laugh at that.
You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”
He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.
“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”
If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.
“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”
“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”
There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.
“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”
You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.
You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.
You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.
“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”
And then they begin hacking at your wings.
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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.
You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.
The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.
“Will she live?” Your father asks.
“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”
“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”
“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”
“I will do with my child as I see fit.”
“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”
Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”
“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”
Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.
Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”
No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.
You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.
Bury the body.
Bury the body.
Bury the—
Your body lurches up.
Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.
The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.
They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.
You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.
“You were shouting in your sleep again.”
You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.
“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”
“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”
“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”
Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.
The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.
“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”
Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—
“I’m going, I’m going.”
The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.
Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.
Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”
“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”
“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”
She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.
“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”
She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”
You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.
Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.
And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.
But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.
You need to be away from them. To be on your own.
“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”
The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”
“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”
“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”
“Of course I will.” No.
She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.
But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.
“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”
“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”
She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.
You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.
You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.
So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.
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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.
The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.
He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—
“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”
Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.
Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”
Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.
The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.
See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.
Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.
It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.
It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.
Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.
“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”
Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”
There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”
At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.
“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”
“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.
It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.
But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.
Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”
No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.
He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”
He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.
Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”
“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.
Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”
“Listen, Cassian—”
“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”
All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.
All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.
But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.
She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.
“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”
Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.
Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.
“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”
Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”
Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.
“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”
“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.
Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.
“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”
True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.
She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.
So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?
This is fucking ridiculous.
She can’t be left to live like this.
“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”
Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.
Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”
Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.
“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”
Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”
“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”
The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.
But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.
“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.
She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.
“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”
Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”
“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”
Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.
But Az seems oblivious.
“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”
“She wouldn’t—”
“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.
Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”
Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”
Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”
“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”
“Cassian, that is enough—”
“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”
Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.
“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.
He barks a laugh. “No chance.”
“Kaeda just said she’d help—”
“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”
Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—
“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”
Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”
“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.
Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”
Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.
Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.
And then there were two.
Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.
“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”
A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”
“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”
Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.
“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”
She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.
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This is starting to feel like a bad idea.
It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.
This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.
You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.
And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?
These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.
You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.
You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.
No.
You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—
But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.
“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”
If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”
“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”
But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.
“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.
But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.
Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”
“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.
“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”
You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”
“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”
You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”
“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”
“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”
He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”
“No.”
“What? Why?”
“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”
“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”
“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”
You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”
“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“Why?”
“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”
It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.
Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”
“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”
Azriel stops short. Stares at you.
You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.
You’re not sure you can do that anymore.
Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”
“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”
Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.
You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.
And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.
“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”
You fold your arms. “Fine.”
“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”
“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”
“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”
You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.
So you say nothing. You just shrug again.
He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.
You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.
And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”
He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.
And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.
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azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd
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artaxlivs · 9 months
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Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.
"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.
"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."
Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?
Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.
"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.
He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.
Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"
The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.
"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.
"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"
"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.
Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.
Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."
"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.
Gross. So gross.
"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."
Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"
Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'
Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."
"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."
Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.
Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.
Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"
What?
"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.
He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.
Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.
"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"
"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.
Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"
Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.
What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.
Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"
"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.
Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.
The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.
Holy shit.
And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.
Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.
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kamiversee · 2 months
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 9 || The Professor and His Student
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.9k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——WITHIN THRITY MINUTES, you're back in Gojo's company. Shoko wasn't home when you got to your apartment so there was no one for you to rant to and you were left still pissed off because of Gojo.
Actually, even if Shoko was home, it's not like she knows anything about the list. And you're not sure if you even want her to know anything about the list. It'd be too embarrassing to explain to her how you got yourself in this position so, you really have no plans on doing so.
The most your roommate knows is that last night you went out on a date. She doesn't know that it's Geto you went on a date with, or that you've slept with both of her friends and you'd like to keep it that way for the time being. There's way too much to explain for you to talk to her.
So ultimately, that leaves you alone in your situation. You have no one to talk to about this, no one to cry to about how Gojo is nothing more than a manipulative dickhead, and no one to release the buildup of emotions he's just given you.
The worst part of it all is that you were starting to put the blackmailing aside. You were starting to even like the idea of playing this little game with Gojo where you have to sleep with some hot guys and get paid for it. But when Gojo reminds you that you don't have the luxury of being comfortable in your situation, you just go right back to disliking him.
When the man showed up at your door to take you with him to his class, you barely exchanged any words. Gojo carefully explained the things his professor was attracted to, saying how he seemed like the kinda guy to be into a woman who looks like she needs help but is actually smart.
You asked Gojo what kinda clothes you should wear, resulting in you wearing a short skirt with stockings that hugged your thighs nicely. You felt a little uncomfortable in it, especially with Gojo's eyes all over you as if he you and him didn't just argue with one another minutes ago.
"Stop staring, you don't have that privilege anymore." You spat out to him as you adjusted the buttons on the shirt you wore.
Gojo's at your room door, leaning against the frame like always. "Come stop me from staring." He blurts out.
He's so used to flirting with you that he couldn't even help himself.
You send him a glare, "You're making things worse, y'know."
He knows. But he doesn't know how to fix it and still get what he wants at the same time. "I'm sorry-"
"Don't." You say simply.
Gojo falls quiet, watching as you move away from the mirror and over to your dresser to spray perfume on yourself. The scent makes its way into his nose and he has to bite back the compliment he nearly gives you.
After that, you put some shoes on and walked over to Gojo, looking up at the man with distaste in your eyes. For a minute, he simply peers down at you.
"...Can you please move?" You sigh tiredly.
Gojo doesn't budge. "Can you hear me out for a minute?"
You can't even believe the audacity of this man. "No."
"Please?"
"What is there to hear out? If I don't do this, you'll expose me. What else is there for you to say?" You ask.
He doesn't even know the answer to that question himself. "It's not what you think it is," Gojo says in the softest voice he can manage.
"Yeah?" You scoff, moving to fold your arms at him. "So what is it then, Gojo?"
"I just..." He trails off for a long moment.
You watch as he glances back and forth between your eyes, clearly having no words for you. You can see the clear regret in his eyes but you ignore it completely-- refusing to let yourself be manipulated by any of his looks.
Slowly, you lean closer to him. "You just what? Spit it out." You urge.
He swallows but remains silent, which leads you to roll your eyes at him. You then shake your head and move him to the side, stepping past him and exiting your bedroom.
"That's what the hell I thought. Now let's go." You say with a sigh.
Gojo's behind you cursing at himself for being unable to tell you the truth.
He's so scared that you'll never help him without the blackmail and, well, he has every right to be because you're pretty sure that if it weren't for those videos he has over your head, you wouldn't be doing any of this.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The walk to his class isn't long once the two of you get onto campus. It was on the third floor, in a section of the school you don't typically go down. You're not sure if you imagine it but you swear that every person you pass in the halls is insanely attractive.
The men, the women, literally all of them. For a moment you wonder if you're in the fashion department of your school based on the looks of those around you. It makes you wonder what Gojo's major is for a second, realizing you never actually asked him.
Your lips part to do so but... what's the point? You no longer care about getting to know the man anymore. Knowing his major won't help you complete this list any faster so, you end up closing your mouth and keeping quiet as you follow him.
When you get to the class, you notice that most of the room is full and Gojo is within the last group of people to arrive.
You're behind the white-haired man so, his professor lays eyes on him before you. You try to appear as inconspicuous as possible and thanks to the department of attractive and well-put-together people surrounding you, you don't stand out much.
Gojo makes a left to head up the stairs toward, what you assume to be, his seat, and you make sudden and direct eye contact with a tall, overly muscular man you swear isn't the professor.
Oh, there's no way in hell that this dark-haired man with a scar on the right corner of his lips is teaching this class. You refuse to believe that the man standing not too far away from you in a button up shirt that looks like it's seconds away from popping off him, is the damn professor.
Surely, you'd expected the blond man you saw in those pictures Gojo showed you to be a teacher. Definitely not this guy.
Those brown, maybe green, eyes of his skim over your entire body in one quick motion, an eyebrow raising the very second he realizes he's never seen you in his class before. In your hands are a binder and a book that you keep pressed against your chest, slightly fidgeting where you stand with the male's eyes all over you.
You wonder if you should say anything but when the large man looks back down at the papers scattered on his desk in front of him, you get the idea that he doesn't care too much about you being there.
With a sigh, you turn and follow after Gojo, quickly arriving at his seat and sitting beside him. Luckily for you, he's in the very back of the room so you get to sit in the corner with him.
You hadn't planned on learning anything today but, here you are, having no idea what you're getting yourself into.
"Gojo," You whisper and he turns to you. "What subject even is this...?"
"Uh, economics." He hums.
You freeze. "You're joking right?"
"I'm not."
"How the hell am I supposed to explain why I'm here?!" You whisper shout at him.
He shrugs casually, "I dunno."
You scowl. "Of course you don't."
Gojo grimaces at himself for his words, "Okay, well maybe-"
"Nope, save it. I'll figure it out myself." You cut off as you organize the few items you brought with you.
He sighs heavily beside you but you ignore the sound.
The class is steady to begin and your heart increases tenfold in nervousness when the deep baritone voice of the professor hits your ears. It was nothing but a lazy 'afternoon everyone' to greet his students as he went to shut the door but for some reason, it made your nerves spike.
As the professor, whose name you end up figuring out is Mr. Fushiguro, began his lecture, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The room was filled with students who so obviously belonged there. You, a psychology major, genuinely have no excuse to be here right now.
Okay, sure, you may have taken an economics class in high school but, that was high school and it was a required course for you at the time. Now, it'll be a bit difficult to explain why you're there.
Luckily for you, you've been in a similar position before. Except, the last time you were in a situation like this, there were real reasons behind it. You had slipped into one of Shoko's classes and attended that class with her for about three weeks straight-- having needed to use the interactions of her class for a report you were working on.
So in this case, you hope you'll be able to do the same thing and pull this off.
With that in mind, you made sure to actually pay attention to the lecture to ensure that you had something to talk about if or when Mr. Fushiguro questions you.
As you did that, Gojo sat beside you unable to pay attention to anything aside from the woman attentively taking notes beside him. He couldn't help but stare at you with his cheek resting against his knuckles, watching the way you were taking real notes on the class.
He gazed at the side of your face, getting lost in his mind as he tried to think of ways to fix things. He wondered if the two of you could just brush over the argument. It's not like he didn't blackmail you before and you guys didn't move on from that.
Or maybe it was just him who'd moved on. Perhaps you're still worried about the situation you were in. It'd only been a few days since it started, not even a full week yet.
Gojo's so busy thinking that he hasn't realized he's still staring at you. When he does realize it though, he doesn't stop. Instead, the male goes on to admire you. This is probably one of the only times he'll get to be near you going forward.
I hate you, the words still echo in his mind. He's so pissed at himself for it. He should've never even done this. Maybe he could've found someone else to go and seduce these people for him, not you-- Gojo likes you.
Wait, he... likes you? Gojo blinks at his own thoughts, wondering if that's what's wrong with him. Maybe that's why he felt these urges to kiss you or be around you or even make you smile and laugh...
He finds himself replaying the events of that morning over and over. It was perfect. To wake up to you kissing him so softly, to have you in his arms all night, and to even bond a little with you without it being about the list.
It was-
"Gojo," You hummed, breaking him out of his mind entirely. Your gaze was down on the paper in front of you as you spoke, "Do you like your eyes?"
His brows pinch together and you hear him scoff a little bit, "Yeah...?"
"Wanna keep 'em?" You question sarcastically.
He blinks, "Uh, yes...?"
You turn your head to him and your voice is low and an agitated whisper, "Then stop fucking staring at me."
Gojo doesn't even look away yet. His eyes remain on yours and the eye contact is intense for a second. He hates to think about it but, you're rather hot when you're mad, as toxic as it is to think about...
The way you're eyes are all narrow and the tenseness of your face is oddly attractive to the man. Under different circumstances, Gojo would've teased you about it like he normally does but, right now, you look like you might stab his eyes out with the pencil in your hands.
Instead of taking the warning you have him seriously, Gojo only grins at you, "Make me." He whispers back, voice teasing.
You glare for a moment, and then you start shaking your head in utter disbelief. "You're an ass."
"An ass?" Gojo chuckles quietly, "What happened to asshole?"
"I might change it to a piece of shit." You say with a shrug as you turn your head away and multi-focus on both him and the lecture.
Gojo tilts his head, "Doesn't that take too long to say?"
"Dickhead." You say simply.
He frowns, "Ehh, doesn't have a nice ring to it."
With a sigh, you glance at him through the corner of your eye, "I'm not gonna play this little game with you."
"Nono, keep going," Gojo pleads, now smiling at you as if he isn't aware that he's only annoying you even more. "I like hearing all the mean names you can come up with."
You roll your eyes at him, "I hope you fail this class."
"Woahh, I need this class to graduate, sweets." He argues, pouting a little bit at your sudden words.
"Enough with the pet names," You sigh. "Hearing anything affectionate coming from you is revolting."
"You liked it this morning."
"That was before you pissed me off."
Gojo smirks, "I do that quite often though, don't I?"
"Yeah, you do."
He hums and inches a little closer to you, "And yet you still hung around me."
"I was forced to." You reply, trying to take notes on the subject ahead at the same time.
"Were you forced to kiss me this morning too?" Gojo says.
That question made you scoff. He definitely pushed all the right buttons with that one, "Were you forced to be born as an insufferable asshole who likes manipulating women into clearing your debt for you?" You question, anger embedded into your tone.
He pauses. The worst part of what you said was that you weren't even looking at him. You said that without batting an eyelash. And it came out your mouth faster than he expected.
Gojo opens his mouth slowly, almost carefully, "I-"
Before he gets the chance to say anything, the abrupt sound of his professor speaking louder is heard. "Gojo Satoru," The professor calls out with an annoyed sigh.
You think you see the hairs on the back of Gojo's neck stand up and you watch as he grits his teeth and turns his head to face his teacher.
"Plan on talkin' through my whole class?" Mr. Fushiguro questions.
Gojo looks immediately annoyed as he shakes his head, the sight of him shut up so quickly almost satisfying to you.
That earns a nod from his professor, "That's what I thought." He hummed, his eyes snapping over to you right afterward.
You swear you were shrinking under the man's gaze, even though he was on the other side of the damn room. It was so intimidating that you just knew he was about to say something to you.
But, he doesn't. It was nothing more than a quick glance, maybe even a warning glance.
You sigh and then peek over to Gojo beside you, noticing how he looks upset now. A smile graces your face as you see the man in distress, it was quite the satisfying sight to behold-- especially given the hell he's putting you through.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The lecture was a full three hours long, something you surprisingly were able to stay awake for and focus on the entire time.
You have a feeling it was the way Mr. Fushiguro taught the class or maybe it was the way he looks. With a face and body like that, you think you could stay awake and stare for hours unprovoked. That has to be the only plus side to the list you're going through-- the fact that everyone is stupidly hot.
As the class finished, you grabbed all the notes you'd taken and wondered if you should just approach the professor yourself. Gojo waited for you to get your stuff together and then you followed behind him to leave the class.
The halls seemed to be pretty busy with how long it took for students to actually leave the classroom and you ended up waiting for people to walk out. This placed you in the back of the group of people, being one of the last to actually exit.
"You," A deep voice suddenly called from behind.
Your head turns back and you meet the professor's stern eyes. He raises two fingers and beckons you to come to him. With a swallow, you nudged Gojo on the back of his arm, silently letting him know that you were staying behind before you turned and made your way over to the teacher.
As you approached the desk, the man stool on the other side of it, eyes daunting and presence overwhelming. He was far too attractive to be a professor.
"Sir," You greeted calmly, "You called me...?"
His eyes scan all of you in front of his desk. Not in a way that seemed like he was checking you out but, more in the sense that he was confirming he's never seen you before.
He nodded toward a nearby seat, "Sit."
You don't know why your spine goes rigid at his sudden command. Perhaps it was the authority in his voice? Or the deep undeniably attractive tone of it?
Slowly, you move to sit down in the seat he's told you to. After that, you quietly watch as he awaits all the students to leave. Once the classroom is clear, the professor takes a seat at his desk and all of his tension-filled focus goes to you.
You were nervous. Ridiculously so.
And it wasn't even because of the situation itself but because of the sexy-ass man staring at you. Okay, maybe this list isn't that bad... especially if you get to interact with people you normally wouldn't.
The man leans forward, moving to rest his arms on the desk in front of him and clasping his hands together. "Well?" He asks, clearly expecting you to just explain yourself.
You instantly look down to your lap, "Uh..."
When you take too long, in his eyes, to answer, you hear the man sigh heavily. "You gonna tell me why you're in my class?" He questions.
You look up at him and take a deep breath, "Yeah, sorry. I'm a uh, psychology major and I have this project coming up soon where I have to analyze large groups of people, preferably in different classrooms, to see how different goals and aspirations differ the actions of people."
That was by far the best and cleanest lie you think you've ever given in your entire life. It's usually not hard to explain just a little bit of your major to people, the explanation alone always brings confusion.
The man blinks slowly, kinda like he didn't understand what the hell you just said. "Okay." He sighs, "Two things. One, what does that have to do with you being here without permission, and two, can you explain that in simpler terms?"
A light smile grows on your face, "Well, I meant to come here before the class started and ask if I could sit through a couple of your lectures to study everyone but uh, I forgot... A-And, in simpler terms, I'm just here to see how certain subjects affect certain people."
Mr. Fushiguro nods his head, pausing to think about what you just told him. He has no reason not to believe you, he's actually had plenty of students do this in the past.
"Psych major, huh?" He asks.
"Yes sir."
"That's uh," He clicks his tongue, "Surprising."
"How so?" You scoff, quick to take a bit of offense.
The man shrugs, "I don't usually get Psych majors in my class, you're the first."
"Oh." You chuckle, "Well, I was also curious about how the economy specifically would alter people's way of thinking."
"Yeah?" You think you see him grinning at you. He appears to be intrigued, "Why?"
"I mean, when you're talking about the economy, you're talking about money and, well," You shrug, "Who doesn't like money? I just wanted to see if that made any difference in the way people think and act in terms of education."
"Right," He nods again, "And what class is this for?"
Shit. "Uhm, sociology." You manage to say.
The male opens his mouth to comment something but he's cut off by a light knock on his open classroom door, prompting both of you to turn your head. Your eyes go wide at the man you see standing there.
Blond, tall, neutral facial expression, and, above all, mouth-wateringly sexy. Good god, where the hell does Gojo find these men? The male at the door is someone you recognize from the pictures.
"Mr. Fushiguro," The blond calls, voice stoic.
"Nanami." The professor in front of you replies, "How can I help ya?"
The man at the door takes a few steps into the classroom, "I had a few questions on the assignment from last week."
Your mind is all over the place at this point. Is this who Gojo was talking about when he said there are two people on the list in the class?
"I might have a few answers," Mr. Fushiguro, whose first name you notice is Toji based on the nearby nameplate sitting on his desk, responds playfully.
You then watch as he stands and walks over to Nanami, your heart spiraling out of control. Spotting two people from the list in one day? It's nerve-wracking.
The two stand not too far away from you and quietly go over something. You pick up on tidbits of their conversation but it's all about an assignment you know nothing about so, there's not much you can do with the information you hear.
Nanami's glance strays over to you for only a second, long enough for you two to make eye contact, and long enough for him to look away. It was a glance of simply acknowledging the fact that you're there-- not even the kinda glance where he's checking you out.
The look he gave you and the one you initially received from Toji are similar, it's like neither of them was even interested in you-
Holy shit.
You think you know why too. The way they look at you is nothing compared to Geto's first glances at you, even though the situation and setting are much different.
That's when you realize...
That asshole Gojo never told you what level of difficulty these men are considered to be.
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐
NANAMI KENTO ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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ellieswrldd · 10 months
Text
drunk in love
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pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
summary: when a hot stranger stands up for you at a club and offers to buy you a drink, how could you say no?
content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, public sex (public bathroom), drunk sex (reader is tipsy, ellie is high), strap-on use (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), ellie calls the strap her cock, reader is shorter than ellie, brief weed use, alcohol, use of term 'pretty girl' & she/her pronouns on reader, creepy guy hits on reader, brief slut shaming. https://open.spotify.com/track/6jG2YzhxptolDzLHTGLt7S?si=9940e02d8b1743a6
With loud party songs blasting around you and your friends shouting drunkenly in your ears, you could hardly form a coherent thought. It didn’t help that your mind was already a bit hazy from the few drinks you’d downed at the beginning of the night when your best friend Dina had bought you and all your friends several rounds of drinks to celebrate her engagement. That’s why you all were here after all, it was Dina’s bachelorette party, and she had chosen to get wasted at a popular nightclub in your city. 
It was clear that every girl you’d come with was already drunk, making you the soberest one of your friend group, despite being more than buzzed. As they danced wildly on the dance floor, you found yourself in need of fresh air. The club was packed full of sweaty, drunk partygoers, and all the movement and lack of space made it difficult to enjoy yourself. Waving to your friends to let them know where you were headed, you pushed through the throng of people surrounding you until you saw the exit. 
Once outside the building, you took a deep breath and leaned against the scratchy brick wall. The air was cool and brisk against your exposed skin, the consequence of wearing such a revealing outfit. Dina had persuaded you to wear a revealing sequined top with a matching miniskirt that just barely showed the crease where your ass met your thighs. It was impractical, that was certain, but something about dressing so provocatively to go out with your friends boosted your confidence. 
You rubbed at your bare arms as you let out a long sigh. In your peripheral, you saw a tall man approaching you cautiously. Gnawing on your lower lip, you straightened up slightly, glancing around at the other people loitering around the building. 
“Hey there,” His deep voice broke the peaceful silence. You turned to eye him for a moment before looking away. 
“...Can I help you?” You muttered, your voice dripping with annoyance. The man chuckled softly and cleared his throat. 
“I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink or something. You’re like exactly my type, and–” He said as he leaned against the wall. You shifted uncomfortably and glanced up at him. 
“Not interested, sorry.” You cut him off and crossed your arms over your chest. 
“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” He laughed sharply as if he was in disbelief that you had rejected him so suddenly. 
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not interested. Would you just leave me alone now?” The words sounded monotone and bored as they came from your mouth. 
“Listen, I was trying to be nice and give you a good time, but clearly, a bitch like you can’t appreciate a good guy when she comes across one.” He scoffed. “You’re lucky I even offered. You’re dressed like a total slut. Most guys want their women with a little bit of taste.” You spun on your heels to face him, your expression a mix of anger and disbelief. 
“Hey, dickhead, she asked you to leave her alone. Get over yourself and go home.” A woman shouted from behind you. You turned curiously and glanced over at a young woman only a few feet away. 
She was leaning against the wall, joint burning between her lips, her green eyes trained on you. She took a long drag from her joint and exhaled as she let it fall to the cement and put it out with her shoe. With a few long strides, she stood at your side, glaring up at the man without a hint of fear in her eyes. 
He scoffed and looked from her to you. 
“Man, fuck this.” He muttered before turning to walk away. You let out a deep sigh and slowly looked up at the girl. 
Now that she was in front of you, you could fully take in her features. Her short, auburn hair was in a messy mullet style, one that complimented her strong jawline. Her cheeks were speckled with an array of freckles and her face was decorated with a few faded scars; one that split one of her eyebrows, one on her cheekbone, and one on her upper lip. She intrigued you. Your attraction to her was hard to describe, she was different than your usual type, and your meeting was slightly embarrassing, but the way her eyes transfixed on you made you wonder about her. 
“Sorry ‘bout that, I didn’t mean to interfere. He was just being an asshole, and I thought he might try to do something to you.” She muttered, sliding her hands into the pockets of her washed-out jeans. The corner of your mouth twitched upward into an almost smile. 
“I appreciate it,” You stuck out a hand and introduced yourself. 
“Ellie Williams,” She shook your hand and smiled. “I was going to head inside and get myself a drink if you’re interested in joining. I’d love to buy you a drink if you’d let me.” Ellie looked at you with a sly, confident smirk that made your stomach flip. 
You laughed softly and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Ellie.” She bites her bottom lip and opens the door for you before following you inside the club. With Ellie trailing behind you, you approach the bar and push past the people standing around to flag down a bartender. 
Ellie looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell her what you wanted to drink. “Just a dirty Martini, thanks.” You chuckled softly as she nodded. Waving to a bartender, Ellie ordered for you and a simple Rum & Coke for herself. 
You snuck a glance at her hands as she took the drinks from the bartender. Her fingers were long and slender, decorated in an array of silver rings. Your eyes trailed upward from her hands to her forearms. Her arms were toned with muscles, her right forearm marked with a dark tattoo that sprawled from her wrist to her elbow. Despite her sleeves being pushed up to her elbows, you could see a few dark lines poking out from underneath, presumably other tattoos that were covered up unintentionally.
Ellie passed you your drink and cleared her throat. “I’m going to sound so cliche, but what brings you here?” She kept her gaze trained on your face as she took a sip from her glass. 
“It’s my friend’s bachelorette! She’s over there–” You pointed to the dance floor, quickly directing Ellie to Dina, who was wearing a white pantsuit and an obnoxiously bejeweled white veil that you had bought her from Party City the day before. “Everyone’s very drunk, but I haven’t had nearly as much to drink as they have.” You laughed as you watched Dina jump into the arms of another friend of yours. 
Your gaze soon returned to Ellie, feeling your cheeks grow hot as you caught her staring at you. “And what about you? Do you always sulk around clubs and save girls from seedy guys?” Ellie let out a choked laugh at your words, setting her drink down on the countertop. 
Ellie leaned in close, her lips gently brushing against your ear as she said, “Just the pretty ones.” 
You giggled and tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach that her touch had caused. “My knight in shining armor,” The words left you sarcastically. 
The feeling flowing throughout your body slightly confused you; it had been a while since you had successfully hit it off with another woman, let alone one that made you weak in the knees with her gaze alone. 
“In all seriousness though…I sell weed here on occasion. Just happened to be smoking outside when I saw you.” She looked down at the floor briefly, tapping her fingers along the rim of her glass. 
You looked up at her as you bit your lip. “I’m glad you were there, Ellie.” You touch her arm gently as you speak. She smiled softly, and you could’ve sworn you saw the faintest tint of a blush on her cheeks, but then again, the flashing lights made it hard to see. 
As the song playing transitioned into a familiar beat, your eyes widened, and you looked up at Ellie excitedly. “Oh my god! This is one of my favorite songs!” You exclaimed, voice rising so she could hear you. “Ellie, come dance with me!” You proposed with a wide grin, not leaving her with much of an option as you were already tugging her toward the swarm of people on the dance floor. 
Despite her cool exterior, the second you pulled Ellie into the crowd, she was laughing and singing beside you. Still, she was a bit awkward when it came to the dancing, but it’s not like anybody was paying any attention to you two. 
Without saying a word, you grabbed Ellie’s hands and moved them to rest on your hips, spinning around to turn your back to her. Ellie let out a shaky breath, confident you wouldn’t hear it over all the noise. You were pushed up against her, swaying your hips in accordance with the song, gently grinding against Ellie’s hips with every movement. 
It didn’t take long for Ellie to catch onto what you were thinking, her grip on your hips tightening. She gently pressed her lips against your earlobe, her hot breath fanning across the sensitive skin. You leaned your head back against her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as her lips slowly traveled from your earlobe to your exposed neck. 
It was difficult to tell if the giddiness you were experiencing was caused by the drinks you’d had or if it was Ellie’s touch alone that had your body burning with desire. Either way, you found yourself desperate to feel her body against yours. 
Settling a hand on top of Ellie’s, you craned your head to the side to face her. With your free hand, you gently held the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Ellie was quick to return the kiss, her slightly chapped lips moving hungrily against yours. She groaned softly as she tasted your sweet lip gloss on her mouth. 
You turned to face her, breathing heavily. “I need you,” The words left you in a needy whisper, but even when the blaring music drowned out your plead, Ellie saw the movement of your pretty lips and knew exactly what you were saying. Three words, three syllables, ‘I need you.’ 
The two of you hurried over to the nearest women’s bathroom, kissing one another needily the minute the door closed behind you. You pulled Ellie into one of the stalls, locking the door with a shaky hand as she pressed your body against it. 
Ellie was anything but shy when it came to touching you. Her hands roamed your body presumptuously, her hands wandering from your hips to your chest all while she kissed you passionately. 
While kissing you, Ellie bit your bottom lip playfully, quickly running her tongue along your lip afterward. As your tongues intertwined and slid against one another, Ellie nudged her leg in between yours, gently rubbing her thigh against your clothed pussy. You let out a muffled moan against her lips as you rubbed your cunt against her leg. 
“Fuck…” She groaned, watching you grind against her helplessly. Ellie could see you were overcome with lust, and so was she. Gently, Ellie tugged down your sequined top, allowing your breasts to spill out for her to see. She kissed along your jaw, her kisses quickly turning from innocent pecks to hungry suckling, leaving purplish-red hickeys in her trail. As her lips traveled across your jawline and neck, those long, slim fingers of hers started to toy with your hardened nipples. Quiet gasps and moans fell from your glossy lips as she pinched and rolled your buds in between her calloused fingers. 
“Ellie…” You whined as you moved your hips against her thigh, desperate for some sort of release. 
She chuckled and pulled away from your neck to look down at you. “So needy…” Ellie mumbled. She unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down just far enough to reveal the strap-on toy she was wearing. It was purple and obscenely large, with a few thick veins detailing the sides of the dildo. You stared down at the toy in surprise, looking back up at Ellie with wide eyes. “Do you always wear that around?” You murmured, glancing down at the strap again. 
“Just when I’m trying to get laid,” Ellie remarked, laughing quietly as she kissed your cheek. You giggled and brought your lips to hers.
“Ellie, there’s no way that thing will fit inside me.” You whispered against her lips as you felt her hands gently moving your skirt up your hips. “I’ll be careful and go slow…don’t worry,” She reassured you. “And if you really want me to stop, just tell me, and I will.” 
You nodded and let her pull the sequined skirt above your hips, revealing the simple black panties you wore underneath. You heard her breath hitch at the sight, and you felt your face grow hot as she glanced from your clothed cunt to your face. Without much of a warning, Ellie placed her hands under your thighs and gently picked you up, pinning you against the stall door and holding you up. 
Gently, Ellie rubbed her middle finger up and down your panties, groaning softly when she felt the wet spot your slick had created. “So fucking wet…” She commented quietly, as she pushed your sheer panties to the side and revealed your pussy. Ellie circled your clit slowly with her thumb, using every bit of self-control to stop herself from whoring you out on her strap right then and there. 
“Please, Ellie,” You moaned and clutched her shoulders tightly. Ellie inhaled sharply and nodded. She carefully slid a finger inside your aching slit, biting her lip as she watched her finger disappear inside of you. You hugged her, burying your face into her neck as your breathy moans and gasps filled her ears.  Soon, Ellie added a second finger as she whispered sweet praise to you. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl…” She said with her lips pressed against your ear. “Jus’ gotta get you ready for my cock,” Her teeth sunk into your earlobe just enough to get you to whimper loudly.  “I’m ready, please– I need it,” You begged her, eyes glossy with tears of sexual frustration. Surely part of your neediness was because of the alcohol, but you couldn’t deny that everything about Ellie made you feel excited. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time you were so desperate to hook up with someone, let alone in the bathroom of a busy club. 
Ellie chuckled softly and kissed your cheek. “Okay, but tell me if you want to stop, alright?” You whined softly as she pulled her fingers out and gently rubbed the strap along your dripping entrance. Slowly, she pushed the tip past your slick folds and into your cunt, earning a deep moan from your lips. 
“Oh my god, Ellie,” You squeezed your eyes shut while she continued to push further inside you. “It’s so big…” You cried. 
“I know, but you can take it, pretty girl…I know you can…” Ellie cooed, her fingers digging into the exposed skin of your thighs. 
The slow pace she was moving at was practically torturous, but when she finally slid the full length of the strap into you, you knew the wait had been worth it. Ellie began to thrust into you, cautiously at first, as if she was scared to hurt you, but when she saw how much of a mess you were already, she couldn’t help but pound into you relentlessly. 
It took every ounce of your strength to refrain from screaming and moaning her name; the two of you were fucking in a public space after all. So, with a hand covering your mouth, you let out choked, muffled moans with every jerk of Ellie’s hips. It didn’t take long for Ellie to find that spot deep inside of you that almost made you scream when she hit it with the tip of her strap. 
Your eyes were watering and glossy, hot tears threatening to spill down your face. A small smile spread across your face as you felt your walls tightening and your orgasm building up inside of you. It appeared that Ellie could see how close you were as her pace sped up and fucked into you without remorse. 
You opened your mouth to tell her how good it felt when you both heard the bathroom door slam open and bang against the wall. Ellie froze, eyes wide as the two of you listened to a group of girls file into the bathroom. They talked loudly, shrill laughter echoing throughout the room as they conversed. After a few moments, most of the group had left, but you could still hear a couple of girls talking. 
“God, this fucking pantsuit is so itchy…” Your eyes widened as you realized one of the girls talking was Dina. 
“At least you’re not wearing a miniskirt! This thing keeps riding up,” Another one of your friends responded. Ellie looked down at you, slightly confused as to why you seemed so shocked.
“Those are my friends!” You whispered to Ellie. Her eyebrows raised slightly before a mischievous grin began to form on her face. 
“Hey, have any of you seen y/n?” Dina asked. 
“Not since she stepped out for air– maybe we should look for her.” Ellie bit her lip and slowly thrust her hips upward, causing your eyes to roll back and a wrangled gasp to escape you. 
“Y/n, you in here?” One of the girls called out. Ellie looked down at you, her eyes dark and full of lust. She shook her head, silently telling you to keep quiet. Ellie placed a hand over your mouth and paused for a moment to readjust herself before thrusting into you once again. She plunged into you rigorously, smirking as hot tears began to fall down your cheeks. 
“Guess not. Let’s go see if she’s outside,” Dina suggested. In just a minute, the girls had filed out of the bathroom, leaving you and Ellie alone once again. 
“Almost got us caught, couldn’t keep quiet, could you? Huh?” Ellie mumbled once the door slammed shut. 
“F-Feels so good,” You sobbed as your walls clenched tightly around the strap. Ellie pulled your body as close to hers as she could and kissed you. It was a messy kiss, saliva trickling from your lips as you pulled away to cry out something incoherent. Ellie groaned softly as she felt the base of the strap grind against her puffy clit with every deep thrust inside of you. 
Ellie felt like she was going insane as she watched you take her strap. Your makeup was smudged and running down your face with your tears, your breasts bounced with every move of Ellie’s hips, and your lips were shiny with drool. You looked so fucked out, so pretty, and you hadn’t even cum yet. The scene in front of Ellie was pornographic, and she couldn’t get enough of it. The way you cried her name every time she hit that spot deep inside you made her want to make you hers right then and there, but she knew better than to ruin the mood with her nonsense. Better to save it for later after taking you on a date, something romantic like that. 
“God, you should see yourself right now, lookin’ so pretty while you take my cock…” Ellie moaned softly before she nuzzled her face in your neck. 
“Ellie- I’m gonna cum!” You gasped as your legs began to shake. Her fingers moved against your clit quickly while she continued to thrust at the same relentless pace. 
“Oh yeah? Gonna cum all over my fucking strap?” She muttered teasingly. You let out a choked sob and nodded. Ellie grinned and kissed your neck softly. “I know you are, pretty girl.” She breathed heavily against your sensitive skin. Based on the sounds she was making as her hips stuttered, you guessed she was on the brink of an orgasm. You were proud to see it– you wanted to see her cum just as badly.
Quickly after Ellie spoke, you felt the tension in your stomach unravel. Your orgasm came over you like a tsunami, your vision going white with pleasure. Ellie’s thrusts turned sloppy as she too began to climax, small moans and whimpers escaping her. The base of the strap was rubbing against her clit so perfectly that it was hard for her to focus on anything else. Pleasure coursed through every part of your body as you cried out and spasmed in Ellie’s arms, her incoherent mumbles of praise reassuring you.
Slowly, you both regained your composure after your orgasms had fizzled out. Ellie gently pulled the strap out and helped you stand, resting a hand on your lower back as she did so. You adjusted your panties and skirt before tugging your top back up. Ellie’s hands traced the hem of your skirt as she pulled you in for a sweet kiss. 
“For what it’s worth, I think that skirt looks stunning on you.” She whispered, a dazed smile on her face. You giggled and snaked your arms around her waist. 
“Not too slutty?” Ellie shook her head and gently wiped your runny makeup off your cheeks. 
“Not at all– I think it’s very tasteful.” She kissed you, her hand gently squeezing your hip. 
“I like you, Williams.” You murmured as her lips left yours. She chuckled softly and looked down at you.
“Well, I like you too.” Ellie ran a calloused thumb over your cheekbone. “Can I take you out on a date? I’ll make it worth your while…” You giggled and nodded. She kissed your cheek and jaw a few times, her lips curling into a giddy smile. 
“I’d like that,” You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the stupidly large grin on your face. Taking her hand and intertwining your fingers, you stood on the tips of your toes and gave her a long, caring kiss. “Why don’t we get out of this bathroom? My friends are looking for me, and I don’t want to worry them too much.” 
Ellie nodded and squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Let’s go. I’m dying to dance with you again anyways.” Her voice teasing but still genuine. 
You reunited with Dina at the bar, Ellie trailing close behind you. Dina glanced at Ellie and back at you with a curious expression. 
“Ellie, would you give us a minute?” You asked her sweetly. She nodded and walked away, muttering something about grabbing some water.  “Who is that?” Dina asked, watching intensely as Ellie walked away. 
“It’s a long story–” Dina’s sharp laugh interrupted you. 
“You fucked her, didn’t you! You dirty dog!” She gasped dramatically, and you both broke out into laughter. 
“How can you tell?”
“You have hickeys all over you, and your makeup is smudged– I’d be stupid if I didn’t notice,” Dina stated and crossed her arms over her chest. 
You giggled and shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow when you’re sober.” Dina grinned and nodded. 
“Well, go and get her! She can come party with us!” Dina exclaimed and waved Ellie over. Ellie was quick to join you two, her arm sliding around your waist as she stood beside you. 
“Dance with me?” You asked as you looked up to meet her gaze.
“Always,” She chuckled. 
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
a/n: this was literally supposed to be a quick lil drabble but here i am with 4k words...im proud of this tho <33
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
Note
Hi hi! Can I request an angsty/fluff piece with Jason? Maybe he hasn't told her that he's Red Hood yet, and they want to tell him that she loves him for the first time, but with his constant disappearances at night they're thinking that he's starting to get tired of them?
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This went a little too long when I decided to stop, so I might need to split this into two parts if needs be 🦦
‘Hey honey,’ you greeted Jason with a peck to the cheek, pulling away smiling brightly. ‘Are you all ready for movie night tonight? I’ve already got a couple films set up and ready to go and I promise none of them will make you cry like last time.’
Jason grimaced. Shit, he knew that something was happening tonight but couldn’t remember what and -like a dumbass- had agreed to going out on a patrol with Dick and Damian later on. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry chipmunk I can’t do movie night tonight. Can we do it next week?’ Jason hated how he was the one who made the smile upon your face disappear as quickly as it came, he hated how he was the reason why the excitement left your eyes, only to be replaced by a look of poorly concealed disappointment.
Jason hated how it seemed as of late that his commitment to being a vigilante had been the leading cause of your unhappiness. While he was out clearing Gotham almost every night, you were left in your shared apartment, left to sleep alone in a bed that was designed for two people and ponder how things could’ve gotten to this stage; wondering whether this was a relationship worth being in after all.
You sighed, trying to be understanding but how could you when this was the third time Jason had bailed on you this week. It didn’t seem fair to keep trying at this point when it seems as though you’re the only one who is actively trying to make time for each other. You had planned to tell Jason you loved him tonight but all that was thrown into the bin, all because he apparently forgot all about it. ‘It’s fine Jason, I’m sure whatever you have going on is inherently more important.’ You said, feeling more hurt than anything as you clenched your jaw to stop yourself from saying something you’ll inevitably regret.
‘I’ll make it up to you-‘
‘Would you like to know how many times you claimed that you’ll make it up to me but never have?’ You asked Jason rhetorically and watched his face further become into one of guilt. ‘Three. Times.’ You told him, holding up three fingers. ‘Once is excusable, but three times Jason. I thought you were over making false promises, much like how I’d trick myself into thinking that you would actually like to spend time with me in our own apartment, but it seems like I was wrong as per usual.’ You scoffed.
Jason tried to reach out for your hand to console you, but you immediately took it away before he could and put a good deal of distance between the two of you to show that you were in need of comfort but not from him. ‘Y/n, I’m sorry-‘
‘Don’t bother. Just make sure to have your keys on you before you leave because I wont stay up for you anymore.’ Was all you said before leaving the room to go into your room, where you’d stay until he left for the night doing god knows what. His disappearing act didn’t bother you at first but when it become more frequent and grew more obstructive when you wanted to spend the night with him, a pit in your stomach grew and it had been growing ever since followed by thoughts that doubted Jason’s loyalty to you.
Were you boring him but he didn’t have the heart to tell you? Is that why he’s been disappearing almost every night or so? Just so he could meet up with someone else behind your back and shit talk you? If that was the case then he could stay out for all you cared, you’ve given him your heart but it didn’t seem as though he couldn’t bring himself to even fake in giving a shit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile Jason felt like the biggest dickhead ever. He could tell that you were reaching the end of your rope with him and he wasn’t so sure that he could go back to living by himself if you were to ever leave him, he could try but it wouldn’t be the same when you were the reason his apartment felt like an apartment at all. And yet he has no one else to blame for this but himself.
He was the reason you could’ve have a simple date night at home.
He was the reason for your frequent disappointment.
He was the reason you no longer felt loved by him but that just wasn’t true. Jason loved you so much it physically hurt and scared the poor man of what he was willing to do for you. Jason’s love for you burned him in the most delicious way imaginable, he was left wanting for more, hooked on your love as though it was an easily addictive drug sweeping the streets of Gotham. However even Jason couldn’t ignore the wedge between him and you, a wedge that only seemed to get worse the more Jason bailed on you for his vigilante business.
As he was sulking in the fact that this might be the end of your relationship, Jason got a text from Dick asking where he was and all Jason could think of whilst grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, was how he was going to make up for every night that you felt as though you were abandoned by him; and if anyone who knew Jason best knew he was anything but a quitter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Movie night was depressing as shit when you were having it all by yourself as a way to cope with the fact that you might not be enough to keep Jason interested.
You were bundled up in bed, hugging your childhood plushie tightly against your chest as you watched a movie adaptation to one of Jason’s most favoured book out of Jane Austen‘s body of work. Hell most of the movies you’ve picked out were based on Jason’s favourite author but you weren’t enjoying it as you would if he was beside you, muttering the lines alongside the characters under his breath as he held you against his chest as though you were something precious; even going so far at to using the excuse that when a kissing scene happens you should be kissing too for a more immersive experience.
He was such a dork but he was your dork and now it feels as though he didn’t want to be called yours anymore.
You didn’t know what it was that you did for him to get bored of you but it hurt like a motherfucker and the more you thought about it the more your eyes began to well up with unshed tears. ‘What am I doing wrong snuffles?’ You brought your plushie to face you with its beady button eyes. ‘Am I really that much of a bore that he can’t bring himself to just end it? What does he get out of dragging me along? Is this some sick joke to him?’ You asked and you asked but got no response, then again that’s what you get when trying to seek answers from a weighted plushie.
‘Who am I kidding.’ You uttered defeatedly as you put down your plushie, switched off the tv after seeing that there was no point in having it on in the first place, and stared up at the ceiling as you tried to will sleep to hurry up and claim you. ‘Did you know that I was planning on telling him that I loved him?’ You asked aloud for no one in particular, smiling weakly as you wiped your eyes. ‘How stupid was it of me to think that we’d ever last. He’s obviously found someone else who doesn’t bore him as easily as I do…so why should I stay?’ You felt yourself wanting to cry again but you were too tired to give your body what it wants and tried to ignore the lump in your throat by forcing your eyes shut.
*knock, knock, knock*
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loveinhawkins · 11 months
Text
When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.
It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.
And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.
A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.
He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.
But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.
He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.
He’s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.
Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.
Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.
But the chatter isn’t helping.
He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.
He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?
He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.
His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.
Something’s cracking deep inside him.
He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.
Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.
He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.
He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”
“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.
Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.
“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.
He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.
Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.
“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.
Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.
Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.
“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”
“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”
But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.
The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.
Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.
“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”
It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.
“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”
He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.
Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding. He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.
Steve doesn’t mention it.
“I can get you some food,” he says.
Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”
He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.
Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”
Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”
Steve doesn’t answer.
Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.
No. That’s not…
He wants… he wants…
“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”
Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”
He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—
The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe. And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.
He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.
“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.
Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.
“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…” Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.
“Thanks,” he manages.
“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”
Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.
And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.
Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.
Steve crouches by the side of the boat.
“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.
“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”
“Eddie, it’s—”
Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”
He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.
Just a hair’s breadth away from…
It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.
“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”
It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.
His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.
Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.
Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…
The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.
Eddie can’t breathe.
“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”
A snap.
Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.
Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”
Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.
Something warm.
It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…
He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.
No.
He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.
“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”
“I know,” Steve says.
His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.
And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.
A hand-warmer.
He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.
Eddie breathes in again. Out.
“There you go,” Steve murmurs.
Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.
“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.
He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.
“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”
Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…
“I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.
Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.
Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.
Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.
“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”
“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”
Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”
“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”
It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.
Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.
He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…
It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.
Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…
It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.
And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.
Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.
He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”
“We know,” came an already distant chorus.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“And if anyone hears about this—”
“We’re dead!”
A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.
And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.
Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.
It was…
Eddie wakes up warm.
The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…
He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…
It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.
He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.
But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.
His hands are warm.
And that’s something.
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ayeyolooo · 4 months
Text
The duff
You walked through the hallway with your two bestfriends. They were so pretty that everyone only paid attention to them."Hey mikasa! Sasha!" Everyone said as they passed by. You just kept walking. It hadn't got you because you really could care less. You know what you looked like at home.
"Okay guys I'm going to chemistry I'll speak to you later." You pecked the both of them on the cheek as they did the same to you. "Okay see you later y/n!" Sasha said waving. You just smiled and waved back. You walked into your class. Armin connie and eren all sat at one table. The three of them were your neighbors,they were so rude and obnoxious. Even through you grew up with them they all found ways to piss you the fuck off.
"Ohhh there's y/nnnn." Armin said looking at you. "Ayo l/n come here." Eren called out. You just ignored him and made your way to your desk. You placed your bookbag on the seat next to you since no one was sitting there.
"Okay you guys,please continue your labs,please put your goggles on." The teacher sat down at his desk. You placed your goggles on before you leaned forward to see your project better. You dropped the little tabs into each of the liquids that sat on your desk. You seen the reactions and you recorded them. As you were writing Connie made his way over to your table.
"Oh y/nnnnnnnn." He whispered. "Get the fuck out of my face ugly bitch." You mean mugged him. "Oh come onnn don't act like that." His green brownish eyes looked at you as his tatted hand went to your tickle spot and he stated tickling you.
You moved your body to stop him. you slapped him in the face. "Move bitch." You said in a laugh. "Mr.springer please have a seat." Your teacher said. "My bad." He said. He smiled and licked his lips before he went to go and sit back down.
———-
Class was over with. The bell rang as everyone began to pack up. You stood up and you placed your folders and journals in your bookbag. "Mr.springer,mr.alert and mr.Yeager." The teacher called out their names.
"Yes?" Armin asked. "If you all get another f in my class you will have to repeat the course." The teacher said. "So me and mr. Longhorn has decided to suspend you three from the football team until you all pull your grades up. And you mr.alert im very surprised that you aren't passing your work." The teacher turned around and walked back to his seat.
You made a face like '😬' before you made your way out the door. The boys began to talk behind you as you walked to your locker. You opened it and placed all of your books in it that you didn't need.
"If it isn't the duff of her friend group." Eren said wrapping his arms around you. You shrugged it off. "The fuck Is a duff??" You turned around and looked at all three of them.
"You don't know what a duff is??" Armin's eyes widened. "If I did I wouldn't have asked dickhead."
"The duff stands for the designated ugly fat friend." Connie said. Your heart dropped. "I'm sorry what?" You placed your hand up to your ear.
"It stands for the designated ugly fat friend.." Eren replied. "That's why y'all's asses are failing chemistry and I hope yall gotta retake that shit too." You said walking to your class. "Wait y/n." All three of them said.
"It doesn't mean like your ugly or anything it stands for like I'm the less hot friend in the friend group that's all." You just looked at them. "I'm telling ms springer mr.Alert and Carla that y'all are failing chemistry and they gone beat y'all's asses." You folded your arms. They stood on the side of you.
"Aight now y/n you pushing it." You just mean mugged them. "Y'all leave me the fuck alone." You sped up. But armin gently grabbed your shoulder. "Okay how about you help us with chemistry and we'll help you look less like a duff?" Armin asked. You just looked at him.
"Unt unt get somebody else to do it." You said
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blushweddinggowns · 1 year
Text
Part 2
Robin Buckley was unfortunately well-aware of Steve Harrington, long before they started working together. He had been the worst kind of popular in high school, the completely effortless kind. And Robin was not looking forward to working with him. 
Sure, he had been better than the other jock dickheads Robin was forced to share space with, but that probably had more to do with his weird Eddie Munson friendship than anything else. Being friends with the town freak kind of forced you to be more accepting. Or in Steve’s case, force you to punch anyone who insulted him in the face. 
And while that was all nice and chivlirous or whatever it didn’t stop the fact that Steve Harringinton was a complete ass who slept with dozens of girls and threw them away immmeidtly after. There was no way that a guy like that wasn’t a dick. 
And after their first shift working together, Robin was convinced that she had been absolutely right. He was a total slouch at work, spending most of his time failing at flirting with girls or yapping to his friends on the phone in the back. He was a complete diva about his hair, and their manager had given him three reprimands in the span of four hours for not wearing the dumb hat. And he was always trying to get out of work early. 
After their first week together Robin was ready to strangle him. The only thing she’d give him is that he accepted being assigned indefinite bathroom cleaning duty with grace, otherwise she probably would have killed him and hid the body in the freezer by now.
Though he was really trying to expedite the process over here.
It was another annoying, Harrington filled day, only for him to once again try and leave early. 
But before he could get to the door, Robin was dragging him back behind the counter, hissing, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? We have inventory tonight.”
She had expected him to whine in response or maybe say something dickish that she could kick him in the shin for, but he just looked horrified.
“Tonight? B-But it won’t take that long right? Like just a few minutes?”
“Try a few hours. They’re making us count the spoons man. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”
His eyes got wider with each word, and for a split second Robin was actually worried that he was about to have a panic attack. That was until he opened his mouth again, “I-okay. Look dude, I really can’t do this tonight. I have a thing that I need to go to. But I can make it up to you! Or I can come in tomorrow morning-”
“The manager is going to look at it tomorrow morning,” Robin interrupted, arms crossed and brow twitching, “What is so damn important that it can’t wait till tomorrowow?”
“Does that matter?” Steve asked, oddly defensive for someone who was literally begging, “I just need to leave. But I can make it up to you! I’ll even pay you. You can have all the tips for the week and if that’s not enough then I’ll do the trash for three-no four days. I’ll do anything. Please?”
He actually looked like he was on the edge of tears and Robin had to begrudgingly admit that the puppy eyes were working on her. Christ, she was too good of a person. 
She sighed, “Trash duty for two weeks, and for the week I get the tips I expect you to be extra charming. We clear?”
“Yes! Totally fair!” Steve was already speed walking backwards to the door, and those misty eyes had suddenly completely disappeared. Robin was started to think that she just got played and big time, “Best co-worker ever! Really couldn’t ask for better-”
“Just fucking go.” Robin said as she shooed him off, near snorting when Steve actually started running out of the mall. 
She looked back behind the counter, groaning when she realized that his trash promise apparently started tomorrow. Fucking dick. She’d take out the trash, do inventroy alone, and then curse the Harrington name. 
She started to lug the disgusting trash bags full of soupy ice cream through the backdoor, shivering a little in the cold. The dumpster was right next to the almost empty parking lot, everyone gone except one long running van.
Robin stopped, realziing that two people were making out infront of it, and one of them just so happened to still be wearing his cutsy uniform while he shoved his tongue down the stranger’s throat. Robin stared at them, barely concealed by the dumpster as her blood boiled. 
Steve ditched her to make-out with some chick in the parking lot? Oh hell no. He was not getting away with this. She was just about to come out of her hiding spot to start tearing into him when she heard Steve giggle. Honest to god giggle. 
He was standing in front of the girl, obscuring her face while he played with a lock of her hair, “Aw, don’t pout. I didn’t make the schedule. Besides, I already said I’d make it up to you in any way you want.”
Robin rolled her eyes, wondering if she should include warning the poor girl that whatever two week anniversary they were celebrating would definitely be their last when she called him out. 
“I just didn’t expect to spend most of our four year anniversary eating cake in bed alone,” The stranger answered, their voice instantly recongnizble, “I was supposed to be eating you.”
That wasn’t a chick, that was Eddie.
Robin gasped, a hand going over her mouth. She had heard that voice many times, usually yelling about comforimity while standing on a lunch table. But that didn’t make sense! It couldn’t be-
But then Eddie was spinning them around, crowding Steve against the hood of his car, his signature DIO vest on full display while he ploundered Steve’s mouth, Steve laughing into it all the while. 
Robin felt like her brain was short-circuiting as she watched them. She was actually witnessing Steve Harrington happily shoving his tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat.
Steve pulled away first, holding Eddie back with a hand to his chest, still giggling, “God, that was so lame. Even for you.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” Steve easily agreed, “And I’ll love it even more when we’re home and in bed. Then we can really start celebrating.”
That was more than enough for Eddie. He dragged Steve off of the hood before opening the passenger side door for him, stealing one more kiss before running over to the driver’s side. 
Robin watched as they settled into the van, hands immediately clasped back together over the centerconsole. But it didn’t stop there. No, Steve was licking his lips and looking down muttering something to Eddie that she couldn’t hear. But she could guess, especially when his head suddenly dissapeared right before they drove off. 
Robin stayed hidden behind the dumpster, still trying to comprehend what she’d just seen. She just watched King Steve make out with the resident freak, and maybe start the beginnings of road head, all while giggling and laughing about their fucking anniversy.
What. The. Fuck.
From an unpublished chapter of this fic
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thebestandrealestever · 9 months
Text
~NOT YOU TOO!~
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miles1610/hobie brown x black fem! reader
sum: miles cheats on reader w gwen, reader gets even 🤷🏽‍♀️
warnings : slang, the n word, cursing, cheating . emotional cheating. READER BEING PETTY unedited and not proofread
genre: angst, a lil of comfort?
a/n:i rly hope it don’t disappoint, part 2 w miles and reader make up eventually, cause i can’t stand writing miles as a dickhead. JUST A STORY, I DONT CONDONE CHEATING, DONT THIS TO PEOPLE.
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first time in a long time.
hurting deeply inside .
there it was. the confirmation you so desperately needed to blow off on miles. you’d suspected he was messing with gwen for a little while now, him leaving you too go on missions with her that ONLY they knew about, being on facetime with her while he was at YOUR house, his highlight on instagram for her, not to mention the countless drawings of her around his room that he hid horribly, just a bunch of weird shit. you had conversations about it before but he always reassured you and gaslit you until you shook of the accusations. but now, now you knew he was cheating. miles was in the shower he left his phone on the nightstand, you looked long and hard at it. debating whether if it was a invasion of privacy, as you thought about it you get more and more upset. if gwen could be an invasion of your relationship then this didn’t really matter. you pick up the phone and put the password it, it’s his birthday (narcissist 🙄.) you go to gwen’s message thread, the blue heart next to it made you infuriated. your stomach twist and your eyes leak with tears that you don’t even try to wipe not wanting to miss anything. all of the “i love you’s” and the “im with her right now’s” made your fingers tremble as you scrolled farther into their text. why did he waste his time with you if he loved her? why would he do that to you? when did he fall out of love? what did you do? your thoughts quickly interrupted by the sound of the shower turning off you jumped up turned the phone off and put it in the same downward facing position wiping your face speed walking back to the bed pretending to watch tv.
“what’s going on now , ma?“ he asked referring to the episode you were watching. your face turned as you came up with a lie. “uh nothing really they just found out she was pregnant” you huffed, you’ve never been a good liar and miles could read your emotions like they were his own, you had no idea how you were going to go the rest of the night with him, so you didn’t. getting up from the bed you acted like your mom texted you to come home, frowning looking at the fake text. miles squinted at your pout, walking closer to you he said,
“you okay?” “my mom said i had to come home, she’s going out tonight and wants me to watch my sister, she’s sick” miles fake frowned “you want me to come with you?” he suggested walking to his drawers to get some clothes. you shook your head no “i don’t want you to get sick, it’s fine i’ll just facetime you okay?” you said as you picked up your purse and put on your shoes. “okay at least lemme drive you home. can’t have my baby walking alone in the dark.” he joked as he put on his own shoes and jacket too. you internally cringed at his sentence reminded of who he also called his “baby”.
trust, trust who?
watching my back even when i’m in the booth.
ohh, trust who?
you’re in the passenger seat of his car, seeing the blue hair tie in the cup holder that wasn’t yours. you stared at it for a bit rethinking your entire relationship. he glanced at you, then the hair tye. he spoke up rubbing your thigh trying to get your mind off of it. “u wanna go to the mall tomorrow? we can get froyo.” he suggested knowing that you liked the froyo place in the mall, you knew he was trying to make you happy so you wouldn’t question the hair tye you just went along with it.
“yea okay.” you smiled warmly at miles not meaning it at all. his phone buzzed and you both looked down at it, the speed of which he grabbed it in was almost inhumane. you side eyed him closely as he swiped the opened the message then turned his phone off placing it into the cup holder facing away from you. as you pulled up to your house he leaned forward to peck your cheek, you couldn’t stand the feeling of his lips on your skin right you. “bye mami, facetime me later okay?” he whispered as he looked into your eyes with that same look on his face that made you swoon once before. “okay, i will” you said knowing you weren’t. as soon as you got into your room you cried, searching in your mind for a clue on why he was doing this to you. you’d tears interrupted once again as your phone buzzed, who was calling you and why couldn’t they go away ?? you checked it as a small smile speared on your face it was margo. margo kess had been your best friend since before you met miles, she worked at the same spidey agency he did , or whatever the fuck it was called. you answered wiping your tears. she was eating unti she saw your expression. “what happened??? why you crying boo?” she frowned at you through the screen “miles is cheating on me with gwen, i checked his phone” you chuckled through sniffles as her jaw dropped “what the fuck?? u exposed him his ass right ??” she shouted and you shook your head “i was in denial i guess, i still can’t believe this shit” “you know what you gotta do right?” she said and your face turned into a confused expression “what i gotta do?” she rolled her eyes “get even duhhhhh!! you way to pretty to let this nigga cheat on you with a big back ass bitch you know that.” you snorted at her compliment “ion know mar, maybe gwen didn’t know we was dating” you said trying to express grace to gwen.
“bitch how?? all that nigga do is talk about you, not to mention youre his lock screen.” you tilted your head in agreement, she spoke up again “and you been told his ass all that shit he did with gwen was weird and he didn’t stop it? if he wanna act nonchalant you can act notchabitch” margo smiled as she her attempt to cheer you up worked. “speak of the damn devil, guess who texted me.” you smirked as margo raised her eyebrow “don’t tell me you talm bout hobie.” you tried to fight the smile on your face as you clicked on his message
“hey, wyd rn?” the text read. margo sighed as she saw the smile on your face “HOBIE. HOBART BROWN?? really (name)? well i mean the way he looks at you is crazy, and i been saying y’all would be mad cute .” she shrugged as she resolved up her own feelings, you nodded as you thought about it . was this really what you wanted to do? hurt miles? nonono if he didn’t care about hurting you he can’t say shit when you do it back. you texted hobie back “nun rn, wby?” and he replied almost instantly “im bored, lemme come over?” you almost laughed at how you realized that hobie has never cared about your relationship with miles . you told him yes and you said your goodbyes to margo as you got ready for him to come over, eyes burning as you saw the multiple hoodies that miles owned .
“hey love.” hobie said as he walked into your room from the window, you always noticed hoboes accent but you never noticed how attractive it was until now. “hey hobie.” you said as he lifted your chin up with index and thumb. “you’ve been crying? what happened ?” he said trying to read your face. “um nothing just stuff with miles” he almost winced at the mention of miles, he would offen tell you that he wasn’t good for you, guess he was right. “what did he do now. something when gwen again i bet” you sighed deeply remember the messages in his phone again. “yea, he’s cheating i just found out.” hobie eyebrows furrow as you say this, if he didn’t like the way miles was treating you before, he definitely hated him now.
“i was just joking but, really? what the fuck? after everything you’ve done for him? i’m gonna murder him i swear to g-“ “hobie no, no don’t say anything. i’m fine i’m gonna deal with it myself.” you say pushing him back with your fingers. “at least let me make you feel better.” he said giving you a tight hug. he smirked as he said “you know i’d never make you feel like that.” you snorted into his chest pulling away, hobie grabbed your face with both hands and kissed your forehead. “you don’t deserve this ,(name) you deserve the entire world” he muttered , looking down at you with so much care. stand on your tipe toes to kiss hobie, he doesn’t kiss back for a while in shock but then he reciprocates it and you know you shouldn’t do this, that’s the exact reason why you did it anyway . you pull away looking up into his deep brown eyes, you needed this, comfort from someone that wasn’t hurting you. someone that wasn’t him. he kissed you again more aggressively this time. he pulls away this time only to catch his breath. he pecks your lips once , then twice. he smiles at you then walks to the bed and turns on the tv, you thought it was weird but you also didn’t want to talk about it, and definitely didn’t wanna do anything further. after watching tv with him at a uncomfortable distance you decide to address the elephant in the room.
“so, we not gon talk about that?” you turn off the tv before turning your head to look at him and he does the same “we don’t have to, you know i like you. but i don’t think you need that tonight, i think you just need me here.” he said and honestly, he was right. even though he had you all the way fucked up onna tuesday, you still loved him. you just nod at hobie and he kisses your cheek wrapping his arms around you so he’s spooning you, the way hobie is holding makes you think that he’s the only boy in the world. he falls asleep and you lie awake looking at the ceiling, you decide to go on instagram looking at people’s story until you see gwen’s story, it was a picture of her and miles in his car her feet up on the dashboard, the same car you were just in, the same car you had your first kiss in. that’s not even the half of it, the picture had a “besties” caption on it but you could tell from 20 miles away they were far from that. you take a picture of hobie asleep and post it, tagging him too copying the same caption as gwen had. after maybe 20 minutes miles replies to it “wtf? why are you letting hobie touch you like that? and i thought u had to watch your sister” “and i thought you and gwen were besties?” you reply back sending him the screenshots you send to your phone if gwen and miles text he starts blowing u up like crazy but you put your phone down and snuggle closer into hobie, maybe you could get even.
doing my own thing,
i’m down to come clean,
not like you.
lmk wat u think 😭.
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klausysworld · 7 months
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I know you've not been as active lately (not having a go promise ❤) but I was wondering how Klaus would react with a s.o that swears A LOT compared to the normal person, if u aren't comfortable with this feel free to ignore and I hope ur doing ok❤
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Klaus with his cussing love:
Klaus could still remember the first time he met her, as soon as he introduced himself she told him to “back the fuck up” before calling Damon and asking him what the fuck he was thinking when he left her home alone at the Salvatores.
He had began to laugh before he took notice of the look on her face, the glare in her eyes and pressed his lips together with the clearing of his throat, both brows raising as he looked away. She stared at him for a full minute before asking why he was still there and telling him to piss off before Damon was back.
He had let out a short laugh before stepping outside, feeling the wind hit his face as the door slammed shut. He proceeded to listen to her whispering a series of curses as she mused the idea of killing Damon.
Shortly after a very tense Salvatore brother came rushing past Klaus only to be smacked over the head with a newspaper and called a little dickhead.
Klaus had decided that it was best to come back later.
The next time he heard her was when Stefan had both her and Elena in his car, threatening him with Elena’s life. Y/n, he found her name out to be as Elena yelled for her, had been with the Gilbert when Stefan forced them into the car. Despite Stefan’s threats and Elena’s cries, he could hear her yelling angrily “I don’t give a flying fuck what kind of bullshit you have with this prick, pull the fuck over, right the fuck now!”
He wasn’t able to catch the rest as the sound of car brakes shrieked and the call was cut off but he couldn’t help his smirk.
The day he properly met Y/n was when Elijah had invited the Salvatores over for a truce and Damon had brought Y/n along as a ‘surprise’. She had payed the Mikaelson brothers no mind as she asked Stefan why the fuck someone would need a house that fucking huge
Elijah had cleared his throat and kissed the back of her hand regardless and brought them all inside whilst Niklaus remained seated with an amused expression on his face. He began to explain he had many servants and hybrids and such but she told him she didn’t give a shit and he shut up.
She had contributed few words to the conversation, a ‘fucks sake’ when they spoke of the doppelgänger and an ‘ah shit’ when Elijah revealed the daggers before Damon grabbed her arm and dragged her out while she laughed and pointing at the situation.
He found her amusing and a relief from the whiny residents of Mystic Falls but also a difficult person to pull much conversation from.
He had attempted to speak to her in the grill, he had wanted to invite her to the ball but she had been a little…rude. Told him to go fuck himself and as one could imagine, he was a little pissed off.
He had slammed his glass down and stormed out as to not cause a bigger scene than needed. Y/n had shrugged and sipped her coke, most people were used to her swearing and took it lightly. Klaus wasn’t.
And so he took Caroline to the ball.
And then he chased her the next day until he found out she had tricked him to help dagger his brother. By the end of the evening, his mother was dead and his siblings were all planning to leave him once more. That was when he went for a late night walk and found Y/n lead in the middle of a silent road.
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“What has you so daring?” He questioned, his voice sounding much too loud against the silence of the cold air. Y/n shrugged as she continued to stare up at the stars
“Damon said he lays in the road when he’s stressed or angry or sad…he’s a bit fucked in the head so he can’t handle emotions. Thought I’d try it” she mumbles and he hummed, uninterested in Damon’s choices.
“So which are you? Stressed? Upset?” He asked and she turned her head to look at his shins, her eyes darted up to look at his eyes
“Dunno, just felt off so thought I’d lay for a while. You should try it, you’re always in a piss” she muttered and he huffed but nevertheless laid beside her on his back. He glanced to her before sighing to himself at the ridiculousness of his actions as he looked up at the sky, the half moon hung above them.
They stayed in the peaceful quiet for a while before she began to speak
“Are you more angry or sad?” She whispered and he furrowed his brows
“What?”
“About your mother” she stated as though it were obvious
“Why, did you have something to do with it!? Did you know that Elena had spoken to her about-“
“Calm your fucking tits down man” she cut off his accusation with the roll of her eyes “if I was planning to kill you then you wouldn’t fucking know about it” she grumbled and he frowned. He remained quiet, unsure what to say to her but she kept up her end of the conversation “besides there’s being a dick and then there’s helping a psycho bitch kill her but job kids. I’m not that far gone” she murmured, distaste on her tongue.
Klaus tapped his thumbs together as he kept his gaze on the moon and listened to her ramble on about how “fucking pathetic” everyone was in this town.
He eventually told her to shut up and she did so simply. Y/n went silent for a moment before a whispered “sorry” left her and he pushed himself up into a sitting position making her mimic his stance. She gave a tight lipped smile before speaking “I don’t mean to make it worse” she mumbled and he nodded
“In all fairness, you haven’t said anything that isn’t true” he admitted and she hummed
“I know” she nodded and he chuckled
“You’re an odd one, Y/n” he mused and she smiled
“Better odd than a fucking lunatic”
———————————————————————
From there Klaus saw more of Y/n, not always under the desired circumstances but he found that she never actually had anything to do with any of the attacks on him. She was just there, not contributing but not in the way.
He only found it natural to want to cause more troubles so that she would pop up some more. He found that if he was able to cause the Salvatores to stress out then they would piss off Y/n and then he would get to lay with her among the stars again, listening to her rant off the reasons she would out live “all those crazy fuckers”
It wasn’t too long before she was round his house, invited or not, just to talk with him or see him.
Her…use of language became more and more normal as he listened to her more. Often it was amusing under certain conditions and most times it was rather useful. She told him exactly how she felt and exactly what he was thinking, with zero filter. He needed someone like that, someone who wasn’t afraid and would sugar coat everything.
Though sometimes it was a little annoying, especially when he was already in a bad mood, but she almost always apologised and after watching her struggle to find kinder words to use he would let out a soft laugh and tell her it wasn’t her fault.
The phrase “fuck it” was the most popular when she was with him. It was said before their first kiss and the first time they slept together. At first he was a little worried that it didn’t mean anything to her but he found that she always had a knowing smile on her face when she would whisper it into his ear.
His siblings were always amused by the way Y/n would speak to both him and everyone else. Rebekah always looked impressed and on the verge of laughter, Kol was often offended or giggling as he watched Klaus get told to “shut the fuck up” and Elijah, gave up on ever trying to reduce her swearing after she told him what a “tight ass” he was and making him turn a dark pink as he struggled to defend himself against words that were although true, slightly harsh.
Klaus found she was always defending him, she’d tell every supernatural creature going to go “shove it up their own asses” if she had to and Klaus would be proud of her each time.
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phyrestartr · 7 months
Text
The Intern | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader
#NSFW, Age Gap (mid 20s and mid 30s), reader's a homewrecker, Miguel's a cheater, mentions of toxic marriage, male!reader, bussy loading, porn with feelings, Miguel's a bit of a dickhead, top Miguel (for now), bottom reader (for now)
Note: I can't write anything without making it into a series lol I'm writing another part right now leave me alone!!!
-- The Intern --
[ How it Started: 1/2 ] [2/2]
Miguel didn't take interns. He hated them, actually; the way they'd needle him with too many annoying questions, the times they tried flexing their unimpressive knowledge of genetics, the way they'd fail to flirt and catch his eye–all of it ticked him off, made him snap and snuff out their bright, curious flames. He didn't mean to. He didn't want to make future scientists lose steam. But he had a limit, and these day, it was hit way too fucking often.
That didn't change when the tours came through. Actually, between his wife pushing his buttons and the young, bright-eyed scientists eyeing him over, everything just pissed him off more, shortened the limit exponentially. 
And he saw you there, listening to someone with a better temper talk. You didn't look all too impressed. You were maybe a little bored, actually. Your eyes swept across the room in wide arcs, looking for something interesting to land on. That was a feeling Miguel could relate to all too well. 
But your eyes eventually landed on him, somehow. You pursed your lips slowly, like it'd make too much noise otherwise, while your cheeks lifted in amusement. You glanced back to the speaker and back to Miguel, eyebrows gesturing too perfectly: get a load of this guy, eh? 
Miguel's expressionless mask slipped for a moment, and he twitched a smirk. He shook his head and looked back to his work. 
He did, however, glance at you on your way out. You didn't look back at him. 
He and Dana agreed to separate. It'd be a momentary thing, a way to work out the kinks in their marriage without more random accusations and hurtful words being thrown at each other on the daily. Miguel didn't want that. He didn't want Gabi to be subject to it, most of all. 
The separation calmed things down quite a bit, down to the point where Miguel wondered why they were arguing so much in the first place; until Dana did a very Dana thing and decided, for some reason, she couldn't take care of Gabi by herself while they were separated. Probably a ploy to get them back together under the same roof. Probably a scheme to manipulate the situation. 
But Miguel could play hardball, too. 
He'd pick Gabi up every day after school, and take her to the lab, but sequestered off in the cafeteria where a security guard was always present. She'd get to snack, she'd do her homework, and Miguel could work knowing she was safe. Not ideal, and maybe a little lonely for her, but easy. 
Checking up on her was another good excuse to walk away from his work, too. And one of the times he passed by, in desperate need of a cup of coffee and boost from his little girl's warm smile, he saw someone sitting with her. 
He watched for a moment as he stirred his coffee. Then, he realized it was you, that random intern from the tour a few months back. You were sat across from her, munching on whatever your late lunch was, and nodding emphatically to whatever his little girl was going on about. Her arms gestured wide and her giggle resonated brightly in the room, drawing some annoyed glances and cooing comments, but you didn't miss a beat, matching her laughter and big gestures. It was nice. 
Miguel's shoulders relaxed a little for once. 
He saw you there more days than not. And the days you weren't there, he often spied Gabi looking around, no doubt wondering where you were. It hurt his heart a bit to see her pout, truth be told, and he started to realize he should probably get to know you if you were inadvertently babysitting his kid. 
So, the next time he found you there, he walked over. 
You were beside her this time, both hunched over her usual tablet full of homework. You were the one gesturing wildly this time, talking too much with your hands as you explained fractions and common denominations and the sort in a way that truly only kids could tolerate and understand. Miguel had to put an end to it if he wanted to talk with you. 
"So, for this one, the little bitch on the bottom is–" 
"Sorry, 'little bitch'?" Miguel interjected, smirking when you jumped and Gabi gasped in delight. "Don't think that's proper terminology. Just a hunch." 
"Daddy!" Gabi called, happily turning in her seat to hug her father. Miguel's mean smile softened into something kinder and gentler.
"Hey, mija. Doing your homework, huh?" He asked as he brushed back his girl's hair. "He's not giving you all the answers, is he?" 
You balked before interrupting yourself. "Woah, hey, no, no, no, I'm makin' her do the stuff 'n the things, don’t worry 'bout it." Woah. Okay. That was a heavy Nueva York accent. Not what Miguel expected. 
"Yeah! I'm doing all the work! Mr.(Name)'s just helping when I get stuck 'n stuff!" Gabi's brows knitted together in concern. "Don't get mad at him!" 
"Yeah, don't get mad at me, Doc–she’s a smart kid, she don’t even need me to do this stuff for her, y’know?” 
“Well, I already knew that.” Miguel smirked as you huffed. He sat down on the other side of Gabriella and peered across her tablet at you. “You’re an intern, right? You were at the–”
“The tour, yeah.” You nodded a bit and propped your elbow up on the table before resting your cheek against your palm to watch Gabi solve her equations. “Saw you, too. You looked pretty pissed.”
“Intern day isn’t my favourite day,” Miguel offered with an unbothered shrug. 
“Yeah, I figured. You looked like you wanted to light ‘em on fire." 
"I could've, but then I'd be out a free part-time babysitter."
You laughed lightly, and Miguel caught the charming dip of dimples light up your face. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? Guess I ain't mad at that. Gabi's a good kid, reminds me of my niece." 
Miguel raised his brows a bit. A niece. "Huh. Guess that explains a lot." 
"Dunno what you mean by that, but I'm gonna hope it's a good thing." 
Miguel smiled a bit. "It's a good thing." 
You smiled, too, though a bit more smug and proud. "Yeah? Good." You glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed, the cute tilt to your lips suddenly vanishing. 
Gabi caught on and sent a powerful pout your way. "Already?" 
"Yeah, sorry, chica. Gotta get back to work." You stood up and offered your hand to Miguel. "Didn't introduce myself. I'm (Name)." 
Hm. Miguel liked how that sounded. 
"Miguel. Miguel O'hara." But you probably already knew that, though you had the decency not to point it out. 
"Nice to meetcha, Doc." 
You shook his hand and ruffled up Gabi's hair before seeing yourself out, a sudden haste in your scrambling steps as you checked the time again. Hah. You must've been late for something. 
"He's nice," Gabi said. Miguel's eyes fell back to her. 
"You think so?" He's not bad-looking, either. "You're okay with him? You feel safe?" 
"Ah-huh, ah-huh. He's not mean." Her big brown eyes sparkled up at Miguel, then. "I like 'im! Are you gonna be friends with him?" 
Miguel glanced back your way, surprised to see you standing by the elevators and glancing back at him. You looked away when you got caught, but turned back again with a little wave, like you’d realized turning away looked awkward and suspicious and had to rectify it. 
A light smirk tugged at Miguel’s lips. “Yeah, maybe.”
It started with chatting at lunch. Then, it turned into light touches on the shoulder and your thieving hands plucking whatever sort of drink or snack Miguel held in tired hands. And then, well, it just got worse. 
Miguel growled into your ear as he held you pinned against the wall, his hips slamming up against yours, driving himself deep into your core. To your credit, you held your voice well, only letting the slightest peeps and squeaks out when the older man happened to hit your soft spot in his wild momentum. It’s not that it would’ve mattered, though; the Halloween party’s music blared too loudly in the cafeteria for anyone to hear you getting fucked braindead in Miguel’s office. 
“Mmmmnnn–Doc, wait, wait, ow, ow, ow–” Your thighs constricted around his waist in a panic as you hissed and dug your blunt nails into his massive shoulders. 
Miguel paused his cruel tempo and finally took a second to breathe. “I–what? You okay?” He asked, brushing some of your messy hair from your face. The corner of his mouth quirked with amusement as he was reminded of the dried fake blood trailing down your mouth, and the glue-on fangs you had set to your canines. You looked quite cute as a fucked-out vampire intern, he had to admit. 
You nodded weakly as you panted. “Y-Yeah, ‘m good, you’re good.” You tilted your head back and bonked it on the wall behind you, no doubt influenced by the alcohol in your veins. “This wall sucks. Hurts my back.” 
Ah. Miguel probably shouldn’t care. This was just a fling, some stress-relief from his frustrating marriage.
But he was too weak, apparently. “Tch. Picky,” Miguel scolded into your ear before pulling you off the wall. 
“Picky?” You repeated, clinging to him desperately. 
“Incredibly picky.” He walked a few steps, carrying you with his cock still buried deep inside of you, and rested you on his pristine desk instead. “Better?” 
You sighed and pulled your shirt down more while you both got situated. “Yuh-huh.” You looked at him with that infuriating, lazy smile and wriggled your hips against him. “Continue.” 
Miguel’s eye twitched. He couldn’t help but feel like he was accidentally subservient to you for that split second. He was supposed to be in control, not you. 
“Smug brat,” Miguel scoffed before hoisting your legs over his shoulders and pistoning into you cruelly. 
His core ached with want as you arched beautifully off his desk, and through the buzz of booze, he admired you; your own heavy cock wept against your stomach as your diaphragm stuttered with each needy dive into your messy heat. Your face flushed a captivating crimson while your eyes fluttered and shone with unspent tears clinging to your lash line. Then, your stupid costume teeth bit into your lower lip as your voice started to break free from its restraints and pushed by your bobbing Adam’s apple, letting new whimpers and clipped moans fill his office. 
“Doc,” you whined, screwing your eyes closed and fisting your hand around your length. “Doc–” 
Oh. Oh no. You were cute. Really cute in the way you started letting out bubbling praise and babbled wants, in the way your free hand clawed at his arm to just touch him and hold him while your high threatened to push you off the edge and into that endless spiral. Miguel hadn’t felt this wanted in a long, long time. He hadn’t been showered in praise, told how good he was, given someone’s full attention for even longer. 
He couldn’t remember the first time he came first, either. 
Because he did, with his teeth clenching, his thrusts breaking down into something erratic and out of tempo, he spilled inside of you. Electricity pulsed through every synapse of his nerves, bringing a wash of cool, prickling energy to his palms and curling fingers as he gripped on you harder, tighter, jamming himself inside of you with a reckless abandon. 
“D-Did you–?” You asked. Miguel caught your gaze, and another gush emptied out of him–your eyes, wide and doe-like in surprised amazement, were too captivating, too endearing. And when you realized that, yes, you’d made him cum first, you were quick to reach the same peak. 
Miguel was the one to moan this time. Your body clenched down around him in desperation to hold him still while your own white-hot bliss ripped through you. Pearly strands of white roped across your trembling hand and your stomach, one after the other, until there was nothing left to give. But with a sharp slap to your ass, Miguel found there was just a little more you could both give. 
“Good boy,” Miguel mumbled, voice thick and full where it trilled. He gave you another good spank. “Good boy.” 
Miguel slowed his hips gradually, slowly catching his breath in tandem with your wild panting as the afterglow stayed where the too-hot sear faded. His nerves relaxed with his body. His mind soon followed suit, too, which was a problem and a relief; a problem because he didn’t feel a shred of guilt, but relief in the realization of how simple this exchange was. Just sex. With someone he could tolerate.
“Shit,” you breathed. You glanced down at the mess you’d become, and grimaced. “C-Can a good boy get a, uh, a tissue or, like, five?” 
Miguel rolled his eyes. He popped open one of the drawers to his desk and pulled out a tissue box and set it beside you before, like the bastard he was, he pulled out of you without warning and watched your hole clench around nothing before glossy whiteness oozed out of you. He ignored your sharp complaints in favour of enjoying the show and meanly stuffing his cum back into you before, for a third time, giving you a slap on the rear like you were a good ol’ used truck. 
Miguel snatched the first tissue to clean himself up and tossed it away, tucking himself back into his pants and straightening his clothes out like nothing happened, before turning and walking away. 
“Hey, wh–seriously?!” You cried (or whined, or complained) at his back. 
Miguel smirked to himself before calling over his shoulder, “Make sure you clean my desk up, too. I’ll get you kicked out of the program if it’s not in perfect condition tomorrow morning.” 
But he almost crumbled under your sweet, cooing pleas for him to come back, to stay a little longer, but thankfully, a whirlwind of petty insults were thrown at his back when he reached the door. And he found the strength to keep going, to subject you to his little game. 
A cruel game of torturing his favourite intern.
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naurimastaur · 10 months
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Gingerism
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Summary: In which George and Fred devise a plan to trick y/n into admitting their feelings for George
Pairing: George weasley x nonbinary!reader
Tw: my attempt at writing xx
Please don’t take this seriously this one is just for fun!
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“Georgie?” Fred called out smacking the back of George’s head in the process. “Are you going to sit there like a stupid git for the rest of your life staring at them, or are you actually going to do something about it?” George sort of fancied his best friend y/n. They were awkward. He was awkward. It was a mess.
“I dunno, I just, what If I ruin everything?” He replied defeated, an almost foreign response coming from the twins, who in their approach to everything, were annoyingly cocky.
“I don’t doubt that,” Fred replied unhelpful. It was in his nature to be a dickhead at all times.“But this is y/n we’re talking about! We’ll just ban them from the burrow or something if they say no.” There was a reason no one went to the twins for advice.
George looked to his brother, deadpan. Fred looked back, grinning.
“ Or,” he suddenly lit up, an idea brewing in his head. “what if we get our hands on some of that amortentia thing? Say we need their help and before you know it theyre all blah blah blah dreamy George smell and we’ll know!!!!” It was almost certainly a failing plan, but it was better than anything George had in mind and sadly he shared his brother’s brain cells. Or lack thereof.
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“ OI y/n!” Fred called out. “ George and I are testing out a new product and we would be honoured if you and your royal nose gave it a try. It’s a real business investment!” His accent mocking that of a commercial salesman from the muggle tvs.
“Fred Weasley if you think I’d willingly stick my face anywhere near something you have made, you are a bigger idiot than you make yourself out to be,” they responded. Having been best friends with the twins for five years, they had long learnt their lesson on trust and why exactly not to place it in gingers. They gave one last unimpressed look and walked away.
Fred and George shared a look. Perhaps if they actually thought plans through they wouldn’t be in this position right now.
“ Well hey!” Fred said “ At least they spoke to you! That’s a step!”
“No you git, they spoke to you.”
“ Yes but you look like me so it’s all the same,” Fred replied, once again trying to lighten the mood. “ What if we get Hermione to try it? They won’t suspect anything if it comes from her.” Thus another plan equally as devastating was formed.
It only took a couple of hours of threats and promises no one intended to keep to get Hermione on board. She agreed based on the terms that the twins would leave her alone to revise after. Short time pain for long term gain some would say.
“Hey y,n!” Hermione smiled ever as friendly, walking over to where y/n was in the great hall. “Im sorry to bother you but we’ve been assigned this potion and I can’t seem to figure out the ingredients. I was thinking since you’re a fifth year you might know them?” Hermione was as good at lying as the twins were at making plans.
“ The twins didn’t set you up for this did they?” Y/n replied unconvinced.
“ No! Merlin no! I’m really stressed over this y/n and I really thought you could help me but if you can’t take me seriously I’ll ask elsewhere.” Maybe Hermione wasnt that bad after all.
“Oh no I’m sorry! Of course I’ll help. Alright I smell rain and-,” they paused after seeing a tuft of ginger hair appearing from under one of the tables from the corner of their eye, a pair of brown eyes following, most certainly that of Fred weasley. Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, seemed to have fallen victim to a Weasley scheme. Depressing. Y/n decided they weren’t going to let themself miss out on the fun.
“And?” Hermione near shouted, clearly trying to direct the attention back to herself but forgetting human social skills in the process.
“And-Oh! This last smell is kind of like husky?” They said uncertain. “I totally get why you couldn’t figure it out. I’m so sure I’ve smelt it before though.” Hermione quickly responded with a ‘mhm’, unsure where this was going and uninterested all the same.
“Oh I know! This smells like Snape’s hair! I can almost taste the grease,” they replied with the most genuine smile they could manage. They had nothing against Hermione, but this awkward, subtle form of revenge was far more entertaining than they had anticipated.
Hermione paused, clearly filled with regret and remorse for what she had inserted herself into. “You-.” She exhaled before starting again. ”You know what professor Snape’s hair smells like?” She replied cringing but slightly curious. Maybe she could buy the professor shampoo or something to get on his good side, after all Gryffindor needs all the house points they can get.
“Oh yeah I’ve taken a couple of sniffs before when he wasn’t looking,” y/n grinned. ”Do you think he noticed?” Now Hermione was just disturbed. She stared blankly at y/n before taking the potion from their grasp and walking away. This is what she gets for choosing to socialise instead of revising.
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Waiting in the common room was George, an accomplished grin set on his face when Hermione walked in, which slowly faded when he saw her face. Not that that wasn’t his usual reaction when he saw the know-it-all.
“So?” He questioned fishing for a response. “How’d it go?”
Hermione stared blankly back at him.
“Unless you’re professor snape it seems they dont have any interest.”
George was really beginning to regret his existence.
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A/n: this was way longer than I had anticipated and was also marinating in the drafts much like the nits in Snape’s hair <3
While you’re here check out a prank to die for
@thescrunkler
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jina1028 · 2 months
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Helping Hand
Yunho x fem!reader
Categories: roommates!au, smut, masturbation (fem), sex toys, fingering, oral (f rec), vaginal penetration, non protected sex (don't do this irl), creampie, Yunho has a big dick
You just got home from a "couples date" that your friend insisted so much you took part in because "Come on, you're single, I think I like him but it would be less awkward if there's someone with me, and he has a single friend as well who's looking for a partner... Pleaseeee". Your friend begged until you reluctantly agreed, how bad could it be if you faked a little interest during the dinner and then parted ways forever after?
You thought you could do this sacrifice for her but you couldn't imagine the dickhead that would be your "date". He introduced himself looking between your eyes and your tits, he talked about how he wanted a woman that could settle down giving up her career if she happened to have one, because "men and women should have specific roles in society, they should think about cleaning home and raising children" and complained about the difficulty of finding such women nowadays, to which you thought you had an idea why he was single. For the sake of your friendship you bit your tongue everytime he said something stupid and your friend would nudge you in the ribs to warn you.
She later apologized, saying she had no idea he would be such a moron, but that still left you bitter. If he wasn't the man of your life you could still find someone nice to spend lonely nights with, to satisfy you sexually at least, but he wasn't even worth sharing your name with in your opinion.
You huffed closing the door of your apartment and kicking off your heels. Your roommate, Yunho, said he was going out with friends that night so that meant you were home alone for a while. You called his name to make sure and waited in silence for a second, no response.
You strolled to the bathroom to take a nice shower and get ready for bed. When you finally layed in bed though you felt the need to steam off your frustration so you closed your eyes and dipped your hand inside your panties, starting to draw slow circles on your clit, your wetness soon starting to collect between your folds, helping in your task to get off. But it still wasn't enough so you reached for the drawer of your nightstand looking for your vibrator, still massaging your slick clit with the other hand. You found it right away and turned it on at a low setting, resting it on your swollen clit. You let out a whimper at the feeling, thanking the fact that Yunho was still out.
Yunho. He entered your mind in that moment. You actually always thought your roommate was attractive but never wanted to take the risk of ruining your relationship with him, it would be awkward if he turned you down. So you settled for simple glances whenever he showed some more skin or laying next to him on the sofa watching TV, gladly accepting his absentminded caresses on your calves or little innocent squeezes of his large hand on your thigh when you sat crosslegged next to him focused on some action movie. You actually thought Yunho was hot, with his deep but soft voice, his tall figure and broad shoulders, and his funny and sweet personality.
Your mind began spiralling with thoughts of Yunho and what you would do to him, setting the vibrator on a higher speed, little moans and whimpers slipping from your throat, until your orgasm washed over you, your thighs clasped together, short breaths leaving your mouth, your heart racing.
You took just the time to clean up and went to sleep feeling much lighter.
That night you dreamt about Yunho.
The next morning you were woken up by a knock on your bedroom door, Yunho's voice calling your name "Wake up, I brought breakfast from our favorite cafe" he sang from outside the door. You stretched, yawning and groggily getting up from bed, reaching for the door handle and pulling the door open. You were met with a broad chest in a lopsided oversize t-shirt and a sweet tight lipped smile on your roommate's face. You startled a little, making him laugh while he took your wrist and excorted you to the table where sat a cream filled pastry and a hot cappuccino waiting for you, along with his own breakfast.
"Sorry I scared you, I was just about to peer inside to check if you were still sleeping when you opened the door and found me there".
"It's ok, I'll let it slide this one time just because I really love this pastry" you joked before biting said pastry and taking a sip of cappuccino from your cup.
"Ahh thank you for your magnanimity" Yunho exaggerated his bow leaning with his forehead on the table and clasping his hands together above his head, at which you snorted, almost sending your chewed bite to the wrong side of your pipe.
"So how was your date?" he inquired while you gulped some water to make sure not to suffocate yourself.
"It went so bad I actually have no words, he was a real moron" you started, recalling the worst, most memorable sentences you had to hear the night before, Yunho reacting as theatrically as he could, seeing how much you were involved in your storytelling to try and lighten your mood and succeeding.
"When did you come back last night? I didn't hear you, maybe I was asleep" you asked wanting to change the topic of your conversation.
"Oh..." he hesitated, averting his eyes from your face, a light hue of pink tingeing his ears "I stayed home and played a bit on my PC, the guys cancelled our plans last minute."
You felt your blood draining from your face "Were... were you wearing your headset? You didn't hear me come home?" You tried to act nonchalant, like nothing happened in your room, looking casually inside your cup while sloshing the liquid around, missing the way Yunho gazed at you, a little smile threatening to manifest on his lips. "I did hear you come" he answered, his gaze finally locking with yours.
You tried to clear your throat and come up with something to say but suddenly you felt so self concious, your now red face and burning cheeks, your trembling voice, wide eyes, lip biting, how much did Yunho hear? Your brain short circuited, then Yunho said the least expected "Want me to help you next time?"
Did you hear that right? Was he serious? Was he trying to make fun of you? He liked to joke around, yeah, but he would never try to embarrass you like that, would he?
Seeing you struggle with whatever was going on in your head Yunho decided to make a move and rested his hand on yours on the table "Tell me if I'm wrong and we'll pretend like this conversation never happened if you want to, but I think I saw some signals from you all this time... And I honestly think you're hot and I was kinda jealous every time you went out for a date, and even more when you would send me a text telling me you were staying out the night and not to worry about you. I wished it were me you were spending those nights with." he confessed lowering his voice on the last part.
This couldn't be a joke, you were sure now, so you decided to be bolder and answer to his previous question with a question of your own "What if I told you I need your help right now?"
Yunho smirked standing up from his seat and approaching you, bending down to brush his lips on your ear while purring "I'll never deny you a helping hand."
Your lids fluttered closed while he carefully caressed your cheek. You followed the movement of his hand chasing it with your lips to softly kiss the tips of his fingers. Yunho took advantage of that movement to move his lips from your ear to tour jaw and to your neck, leaving a trail of feather like kisses, the little hairs on your neck standing up from the shivers that traveled down your spine, a little gasp escaping your mouth. He brought his hands to your waist, squeezing and pulling a little soliciting you to lift up. When you did he attached his lips to yours, inhaling your smell deeply through his nose. He started walking you backwards towards your bedroom, pulling and biting your bottom lip, slipping his tongue in your mouth. You weren't caught off guard though and took the opportunity to suckle on his tongue, sending a shiver directly to his cock, making him groan as he pressed you to your bedroom door. You could feel his boner rubbing on your hip while he fumbled with the door handle. You stumbled to your bed pulling Yunho down with you, still kissing and playing with his tongue. Your hands went to his hair on the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his dark locks and pushing him to deepen the kiss. When he pulled away for air he stood on his knees to get rid of his t-shirt and with your approval he helped you strip too, pulling up your pajama shirt and letting out a little gasp and a curse under his breath when he found out you weren't wearing a bra. He attacked your neck sucking and biting, while lightly grazing your breasts and nipples with one hand and pressing his knee between your legs, rubbing your clit and eliciting a moan from you.
"Do it again" he groaned, doing the same motion to earn another sound from you. He suddenly felt greedy, wanting to hear more sounds, so he made you lift your hips to remove your pants, being greeted by a wet patch staining your panties, sticking and outlining your pretty pussy, not leaving much to Yunho's imagination. He was in heaven, finally being able to be the source of your pleasure, if it depended on him you wouldn't have needed to get off on your vibrator anymore, he wanted to be the only reason for your beautiful moans. He buried his nose in your clothed pussy and nudged your clit, wanting to hear more of your sounds, pulling your panties to the side, slipping his fingers through your folds and experimentally pushing one digit inside. Your little moans turned to whimpers and sobs when he inserted a second finger and curled them up, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, his mouth latched to your clit, suckling.
"Yunho, stop teasing and fuck me already" you lamented.
"Wow, not even a 'please' or 'thank you', so rude" he chuckled but nonetheless he detached from you to get rid of his pants and boxers, freeing his hard erection. You ogled at it with big eyes, never having seen anything like that in real life, long, girthy, veiny, slightly curved up and already leaking precum, it looked delicious.
Yunho peeled your panties off, impatient to stuff your pussy with his cock when he remembered "Wait, I don't have a condom".
"I'm clean and on birth control" you reassured him, impatience taking the best of you.
"I'm clean too. So do I really get to fuck you raw?" he beamed.
"I'm waiting" you urged him, to which he launched himself on top of you, kissing and biting your neck, grinding his hips into yours, mixing your slick with his precum.
When he finally pushed inside he had to go slow because of his size, in order for you to adjust. Both of you groaning with every little push until he bottomed out, resting on top of you until you gave him permission to start moving. You were ecstatic, every time he thrusted back inside it felt like he filled you more and more, and his pace was just perfect, hard enough but not so much to hurt you, fucking you so good. You thought so until he lifted your legs hooking them in his elbows, his hands pressed to the mattress on your sides, pistoning in long, smooth motions, hitting your clit with his pelvis with every move, perfectly angled to reach your g-spot. That's when you felt like you were living an out of body experience, you were transcending reality.
Yunho tried to stay quiet in order to listen to your every grunt and moan, allowing himself to only let out little groans and huffs, until he felt your walls contracting again and again on his cock, splurting clear liquid around him and on the sheets, urging him to reach his own climax and making him come hard inside of you with a deep growl, spilling and spilling, pulsing and twitching until with a last roll of his hips he stilled, then finally let go of your legs, rolling off of you to collapse on your side, panting hard.
Both of you stayed like that for a minute, spent and sweaty, catching your breaths. You finally rolled on your side intertwining your legs with his, smiling up at him "I think I'll need your help pretty often from now on"
Yunho smiled back at you, kissing your nose "I was hoping for 'every day', but 'pretty often' is ok too."
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