#and enjoying a good book about what he likes
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𝒜𝑀 𝐼 𝐵𝒜𝐵𝒴?
✧｡˚ a shy nympho camgirl seeks a partner to help her film content on a dating app. soon, meeting up with a handsome man who's willing to do anything for the pretty girl he chats with.
𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 14k. pwp, lowercase intended, age gap ꒰ toji is 36, reader is 24 ꒱ submissive reader, pleasure!dom toji, bondage ꒰ belt ꒱, check ins, heavy praise, overstimulation, aftercare, unprotected, videography, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱ , squirting + kreaming, spanking, choking, hair pulling, mild degradation, intimacy on high, toji is intimidating, manhandling, masturbation, daddy kink srry not srry, pet names ꒰ baby, girl, pretty, sweetheart, angel ꒱ minors aren't welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated!
౨ৎ — ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 ꒱: this took me so long to finish y'all but im super proud of it. one of my favorite works so far so i hope y’all enjoy. ♡
you hold your notebook in your hands, a bright pink color with numerous doodles sketched onto its cover, your pen on the back of your ear as you slowly cross off a list of things you needed to buy while browsing on your laptop. your room is quiet aside from the soft sound of music playing from your stereo, beyoncé’s cowboy carter album playing from start to finish while you slumped into your soft pink duvet hiding beneath a white canopy slip. the air is crisp how you like, a fresh, chunky strawberry is chewed between teeth, and your skin is freshly scrubbed and moisturized, only covered in a matcha green two piece short and tank set. a laptop sits on your thighs as you cross your legs, twirling your left calf as you bury your back into your mountain of plushies.
this was frustrating. you never realized how hard this would be to find someone to fuck, let alone film content with. you’d made a profile on hinge a week prior to now, and most of the matches weren’t close to peaking your interest. most of the men seemed like creeps, some too old . . . giving very much grim reaper. and others, too young, freshly adults at that. you think you’ve made yourself appealing enough. cute profile with full faced pictures, personality traits, daily interests even . . . but it somehow didn’t attract those you truly wanted.
as your sticker covered macbook’s motherboard screamed for air, warm on your thighs and now sliding on your tummy the further you leaned back. . . you were growing tired. huffing and puffing from literal exhaustion. am i wasting my time? should i just go out and find people like in the movies? but this generation made it so hard to even physically connect anymore. what happened to people running into each other at a coffee shop, a book store, a park? sharing interests and going on dates. granted, what you were looking for was strictly work related. you wouldn’t dare stare a stranger in the eye you bumped into at the farmers market and ask, “hey, wanna fuck me for content?” it’d be tasteless. you have self respect. others may think differently considering your side quests to fund the unfathomable reality of adulthood on top of just being a girl.
“this fucking sucks,” you groan to yourself, thumb aching from how quickly you hit the big ‘x’ on the bottom left corner of your phone screen.
maybe it was time to call it a night. you had an early shift at the salon, about five clients to be exact, booking either re-twists, goddess braids, or a wig install. so you had to save your hand strength. sighing, you shut off your laptop and set it aside on your nightstand, disconnecting the music from your phone before getting up to cut off the light. your fluffy cat that laid on the edge of your bed shooting her head up in alarm, ready to follow at any adventure you pursued.
“relax, mommy’s not going anywhere,” you smile assuredly, knee dipping into the bed as you lean over to smooch her on her tiny head, pointy ears tickling your cheek as you watch her tail sway. “good night, sweet — oh, fuck! i forgot to feed you. i’m so sorry baby.”
the alert in your tone has the black cat stand in attention, cursing to yourself as you slip on your heart printed slippers and make your way towards the kitchen, your studio apartment being on one level making this task easier. you listen to her tiny paws thud on the floor after she jumps off the bed in a hurry, dashing in front of you, damn near tripping you.
“oh my god, you’re so extra,” you shake your head, but couldn’t help but laugh. she meows at you violently, as if you hadn’t fed her in two weeks. rolling your eyes, you reach for her bowl off the floor to clean before opening a fresh can of fancy feast, using one of her plastic spoons to arrange her dinner.
whilst she awaits, you can’t help but glare at the screen of your phone as it suddenly dings, forgetting to turn off your ringer. hovering over it to activate your face i.d, it immediately opens the hinge app, reloading the page to see a new match. the air you inhaled suddenly catches in your throat as you stare wide eyed at your screen, the man in your view is just what you’ve been waiting for.
“oh, holy fuck,” comprehension wasn’t on your radar seeming as you lost the ability of the cat food in your hand, dropping it to the floor and flinching from the mess your fur baby began chowing on. sucking your teeth, you mutter, “goddamit. no, no. stop it.”
flailing your hand gently to get her to stop, you snatch the can and dump the remainder in the deep oval ceramic bowl. you try to ignore the rapid pounding of your heartbeat, unsure why it went so astray. maybe it’s because you’ve never seen a man so fucking fine. deadly fine, foul almost. as if it was such a disrespect to all beings. she’d cleaned up her own mess, so you take the time to grab your phone and lean against the sink to observe this man further. he had matched with you, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so depressed a few minutes ago . . . unless you were waiting for him to like you back.
toji. it’s his name. simple, nice. he only has about three pictures, one of them a huge black cane corso with a gorgeous silky coat. it made sense given the vibe he was giving. dark, intimidating, sexy. jet black hair, slender smoke gray eyes, sharp jaw and a fascinating scar on the side of his mouth. another thing you noticed was how big he was. most of the clothing he wears sticks to his skin like glue. molding the outline of his muscles, the thickness in his arms, the heaviness in his thighs, the brick trail of his abdomen.
a certain feeling burns in your chest, and between your legs as you scroll to see the last image. he’s sitting on a beach chair, thighs spread in black cargo pants, matching tee, a yuengling beer in his hand and a cross dangling around his neck as he takes a sip of his beverage with a hungry look into the camera. it’s cocky, possessive, dominant. the dark brows above his eyes lowered with attentiveness. his shirt is half risen above his abdomen, and you can easily see the dark trail of hair leading into his crotch. it’s full there, clear as day. so it’s easy to tell he carries something serious.
fuck. “fuck,” you feel yourself growing hot, blowing out a breath of air before making your way back to your comfy bed to stare at him more. what a fucking man. honestly, you’d never seen someone so of your standard. exactly your type. before messaging him, you check his profile a bit deeper to make sure you’re not mistaken of anything. find some flaws, though profiles only express so much.
thirty-six, that makes you moan. that’s a twelve year age difference. though that only makes him hotter. not too old, nor young. he’s a . . . gynecologist.
“so he’s good with pussy,” you giggle to yourself. he makes a decent amount of money. he’s into fitness, clearly. cars, politics, sports. seemed like a pretty laid back man to you.
without even realizing, he had already messaged you, your heart dropping to your toes at his first response.
toji
i’ve seen you before.
you blink, fingers typing quickly.
you
mhm, where?
he takes a moment to reply, so you fiddle with your necklace out of anxiousness, laying on your stomach and swaying your feet.
toji
sounds a little embarrassing, but an adult website.
you
sounds about right. does that bother you?
toji
i wouldn’t have matched with you if it had.
you
so you’re saying if i wasn’t a porn streamer you wouldn’t even look my way?
those three dots prolong longer than you wanted, only making you aware he didn’t know what to say.
toji
i matched with you because i find you attractive. whether you want me in that way or not is up to you. i want you.
he’s straightforward. you can’t help but bite the tip of your acrylic, smiling like a stupid teenager, kicking your feet in the air. the attraction being mutual boosting your ego.
“i want you, daddy,” you joke to yourself.
you
i’m assuming you’ve read my bio. i’m looking for someone to film content with! if you’re down for it, we can meet in person and talk about it! i’m not really looking for a relationship. . . right now at least. ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
toji
of course, sweetheart. i’m free saturday’s and sunday’s. you don’t seem that far from me. let’s grab italian. my treat.
there’s something blunt and grown about him, you can practically feel his intimidation radiating through your fingertips. he seems just like the kind of man you knew would fuck you stupid. scream his name until the walls bled. until you’re trembling, and the sheets are off the bed, and his sweat is on your back so arched to the point where it’s painfully delicious. biting your lip, you had nothing else to lose. you needed his help, he’s offering lunch, you only live once.
you
you had me at italian. saturday at 2?
toji
saturday at 2. see you then, darling.
𓇼
the nostalgic scent of blue magic hair grease fills the air of the salon, your fingers working tirelessly to intricate detail into the woman’s scalp you worked on. your last client of the day in fact. you couldn’t wait to clock out and grab a bowl from chipotle, thinking about it your entire shift. fingers entwining artfully as braiding hair flicks from angle to angle, you finish up the final knotless braid with a hard working sigh. you tried to remain optimistic after she’d taken her seat, unfortunately arriving an hour late to her appointment. said she had ‘issues’ with her boyfriend, smelling like weed and partially slurring her words when she came in. but you could care less when you were on a time crunch.
you hated when people wouldn’t respect the clearly listed rules on your account. so, for that, she’d be paying a late fee. after you applied moose and rosemary oil to her scalp, she’d pay you through apple pay and be on her way. you thank her, and when she’s out the door, you instantly turn to your friend and roll your eyes.
“you’re too damn nice for doing her hair. i would’ve told her ass to kick rocks after showing up that damn late,” amethyst speaks, crosslegged and shaking her head as she digs her fork into her chinease platter, filled to the brim with shrimp fried rice and popcorn chicken. the smell alone makes your tummy growl. “did she even tip you?”
“not at all,” you brush off, not even wanting to think about it anymore. “still got my money at the end of the day.“
“hey, you’ve been off the whole day, everything alright?” amethyst proceeds to question, and your shoulders slump as you halt from sweeping up hair off the floor.
aside from tireless appointments, you couldn’t get toji out of your mind, super impatient, even anxious for saturday to come. it’s two days away until you finally meet him. you’ve texted here and there, shared a few updates on life or spoke of relating passions and wanting desires. you had told him your occupation outside of being a camgirl, and how dissatisfied with it you’ve become. this field wasn’t for you anymore. the passion for it is dying, the clients grow irritable, and you just wanted to breathe. you feel like you’ve been working your whole life. in conclusion, since fifteen. started from an early age dealing with responsibilities due to financial constraints within your family. your mother raised you on her own, along with four other children. and being cursed with the older daughter syndrome, you developed faster than you wanted to. barely having time to live your life until you moved out. even then, it’s been all about work. you needed an island getaway.
“this week just burnt me out. i’m just glad it’s almost over,” you reply, not having the energy for a full conversation. she was a sweet girl, albeit very nosey. you try to keep events in your life private, gossip to a minimum.
“awe, bookie,” she pouts. “what’s your plan for tomorrow? me and the girls were gonna check out that new club ‘sin.’”
shaking your head, you disagree. “now you know i’m not big on clubs. have an art piece to work on anyways before the weekend comes. so i’ll be busy.”
amethyst nods. “well, alright then. i guess i’ll just see you whenever you get booked again.”
you don’t know why that felt like a backhanded response. you’re only here three times out of the week, and most of those days you see about five to six clients. everyone else had a bigger following on social media, meaning more attention, more money. you believe because you aren’t so passionate for this major, your ability to promote and put effort only shows in your adult entertainment career. since it’s where most of your income comes from as of four months ago.
“guess i’ll see you.”
after packing your ballerina pink telfar bag with all of your tools, you wave goodbye to everyone before making your way to your white honda civic, interior a vast splash of pink matching the two-piece skims set you wore. shorts since the weather is about seventy-five degrees today. buckling yourself in, your only agenda is to head to chipotle and then home. ordering your delectable signature bowl of barbacoa, fajita veggies, guacamole, pico de gallo, corn, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, and refusing to eat the bowl without their vinaigrette and a side of chips.
it’s around 9pm when you’re finally cleaned off from a hot shower, curly hair pushed back from your face with a hello kitty headband as you finish your skincare, sitting at your vanity while scandal plays in the background. you’d already eaten your food about an hour ago, even taking a thirty minute nap to regenerate for this art piece you needed to finish. in total, you had about three jobs; hair stylist, camgirl, ceramicist. you had an etsy profile where people bought cute little things of yours you liked to sculpt. tea pots, coquette flower pots, plates, heart cake jewelry boxes . . you name it. you had a few orders for mini miffy trinkets you had to ship out by saturday.
saturday. the warmth in your gut swarms at the thought of seeing that man. quite frankly, you’ve been unable to relieve your mind of him. he’s like a poison, hard to get rid of, but desperate to stay bonded with you. and you wanted nothing more than to be buried in his embrace; small and fucked out. since he’s been busy with work, and so have you, there hasn’t been much time to even call and chat. then again, you wanted to wait to see him in person. to feel that magnetism stronger than it already was. two days away and you’re anxious to even hear a hello.
while patting your toner into your face, you gaze through your mirror to see a scene playing from your show where fitz and olivia fight before they fuck for the hundredth time. the way he grabs her, speaks to her, caresses her and worships her. it has you thinking of toji instantly. the burn for him aching more than normal. practically feeling his eyes on you the way he stared into the camera in that one photo, long fingers clasped around the glass bottle, craving for that lock around your throat. wondering how tight he’d make it. would you be able to breathe? would he kiss air into your mouth to help you? tell you it’s okay, to feel it all, to take it all, to cum on his dick till you're milking him dry?
your thighs squeeze together from your imagination, staring at your reflection . . . and it’s all in your eyes. deep arousal, and the harsh clench you currently held your moisturizer in, close to grinding in your seat to ease the buzz of your clit. there’s only one solution for this, and you might as well make money off it. standing to your feet, you think not a second more before retrieving your laptop from your closet, setting it on your vanity desk and logging into the domain of prettyfuckbunnies.com. it seemed to be the main site for growth, given your eight thousand dedicated subscribers. you check yourself in the mirror once more before going live, rolling your chair back a few inches so they could see your entire frame. dressed in nothing but a small red slip dress.
angelbwrry is live!
your subscribers were notified well before others, hundreds of them swarming the chat within seconds. you were a new favorite, a prized star of the platform. admiration from both women and men. people who tipped you just for being pretty. others here for the obvious. applying gloss to your lips, you stare intensely into the camera, the character you play going into affect.
“hi,” you mutter quietly, slowly titling your head to the side as you bite your lip and sink lower into your seat, back arching. “i’m so fucking horny, and i just need someone to watch me fuck myself.”
the black kuromi chair you sat in begins to sway as you gently swing yourself side to side, eyes trained on the chat to witness them praise you, some comments degrading off the rip that you chose to ignore, others demanding you get on with it. for the most part, you tend to be discreet with sharing much about yourself. technically, you weren’t hiding much, your face easily accessible and probably even less hard to track. you’d always pray that there wasn’t a psycho willing to go that far just to find you. role playing was your forte. writing ideas for new personas to please them. and you had fun doing it. you’d never do something you weren’t in to for the satisfaction of others. never took private calls, or meets ups for obvious reasons.
but, you had to talk about him.
“i met this guy i can’t get outta my head,” the softness in your tone making dicks go erect and clits beat, the chat asking questions and growing fond of your way of interaction. “well, maybe not met. we’ve texted, and i meet him in a few days. possibly someone you’ll see on the channel. and . . .”
the tenseness in toji’s neck bothers him as he groans and leans back into his office’s chair, fork in one hand as he chews on his salad from sweetgreen a coworker grabbed for him, reading through emails his secretary confirmed appointments of, needing to add it into his schedule to be aware of what he can fit between. needing to run a few errands this weekend. the white doctors coat clings to his body, one foot raised to rest on the front of his desk, manspreading and jaw shifting as he finishes his food tiredly, knowing he wouldn’t eat a thing once he got home.
“goodnight doctor fushiguro! get some rest tonight, yeah?” a body comes to view of his secretary; a woman with glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, a chunky face and beautiful red hair. she waves enthusiastically.
toji smiles, the older woman trying her best not to swoon. he’s young enough to be her son. “good night, miss thorn. thank you for today. you get home safe and enjoy your trip. i wanna hear all about it when you’re back.”
“you know you’re the first person i’m running to tell!” she chirps, toji chuckling. “i left my keys on the main desk. don’t forget or else you’ll have to break open the drawer for your patients files.”
“i’ll be sure to remember.”
twenty minutes pass and toji’s cutting off lights to his small facility and locking up. twirling the keys on his long finger, starting up the sleek black maserati ghibli gt sitting in the parking lot from his key. a black patent leather messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, doctors coat discarded and now attired in his usual black tee with matching slacks. setting it beside him in the passengers seat, he gets a ding! from his cellphone, resting his shoulders in his seat before checking what it was, perhaps it was miss thorn, she tends to leave things behind.
angelbwrry is going live!
toji raises a brow from the notification, checking the sapphire bulova watch on his wrist for the time. 9:54pm. why were you up so late? forgetting people have other schedules, he’s so used to being asleep around this time, much more having to be done today the only reason he was still in the office way past the hour it closed. part of him grows inquisitive, wondering if he should invade your privacy or what not. though, he’s not new to your escapades. he’s seen every inch of your body, memorizing it quite literally. he’s not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him off a few times these past months. he feels like he knows you on a deeper level now, so itching for that perverted behavior would be indecent to both of you. especially if he’s seeing you in two days . . . for a conversation about what you do and his potential participation.
nothing wrong with just watching, right?
as the engine to his car hums, toji finds himself in a devious act, clicking onto your feed and finding you displayed in your feminine bedroom. the videos on mute momentarily before he’s going full screen and turning his phone sideways. there you were, small and standing tall as the slip that barely clung to your body arose the more you moved. hips wide, thighs full, nipples taut and tits defying gravity. the strap on your right shoulder falls elegantly, your hair hoisted up by a claw clip and your brown skin radiating glow. the man openly groans from the sight, knowing you smelt so good.
“wait, i have an idea!” the cute tone of your voice blares through his phone, a smirk painting his stern features as he watches you scramble for something in your room, your slip riding up your ass. the hourglass shape of your body, to the pudge of your tummy . . he’s enamored.
he, and a thousand other people watch curiously as you lift the seven foot mirror that previously leaned against your closet door and position it on the floor at the edge of your bed. then, you’re digging into your bottom drawer for something else, toji catching a brief glance at the chat raving and thirsting from the view of your perky ass peaking out, a tiny birth mark under the left one. the cellulite in your legs that squish together from size, the stretch marks leading from beneath your ass cheeks down to the backs of your knees. so fucking soft.
“ta-da!” you wave the object in your hand courageously, an evil grin on your face as you show the crowd your confetti designed dildo, the brow on toji’s face raising. he almost wants to chuckle. you’re so silly, he thinks. watching you dance your way back towards the mirror where you hum a tune to yourself, swaying your ass in the air for dramatics before plunging your toy onto the center of the mirror so it sticks, watching it spring for attention.
“gonna pretend this is him, ‘till then. can’t wait any longer,” your hands slowly drift up your thighs to show your audience your bare pussy, hiding between those luscious thighs of yours. he wanted to suffocate his face there badly. what you say almost goes over his head. pretend who’s what?
toji ignores the flow of comments filling the chat, degrading you to some degree which he briefly clenches his jaw from, feeling somewhat protective. others praising you, acting like your cash pigs. pathetic, he thinks. he sees one comment in particular that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
prinxxxspeach
aren’t you seeing him saturday? call him now to come help you girl!!
don’t fucking call me, angel. i’ll nut in my pants right now if i hear you say my name. he’s slightly amused that you spoke of him. is that why you went live so late? thinking about him? so pent up, and impatient, you had to just fuck it out your system? he’d fuck you a lot better than that lousy toy you had, that’s for sure.
you giggle from the comment, contacts still in your sockets so you can read what people are saying from afar.
“he can wait for me. he’s making me wait,” it’s like an old film camera flipping to the next scene, or maybe his mind had gone blank from your response because now, now you’re sinking your tiny pussy onto your toy after coating it with lube, the reflection of your cunt for all to see in the mirror. watching as this toy splits you apart, pretty folds swallowing it deep as you balance yourself on the tips of your toes. fully sitting and rolling your hips to adjust, your mouth falls wide and a whimper escapes.
“nng, s’so deep,” that voice of yours is going to get you in trouble. the broken moans you release as you lift your hips to grind and bounce, face falling forward to look at yourself, seeing someone other than yourself. your imagination begins to run wild, and you forget a cameras watching you, dainty fingers caressing the mirror before laying your palm flat, as if you’re choking him. biting your lip, you occupy your other hand by molding at your chest.
you uphold your balance well, clapping your ass down against the mirror now coated with your slick, pussy squelching ridiculously loud aside from your weak moans and desperate whimpers.
“fuuck,” your breath hikes, sounds broken and almost pleading, eyes rolling back as you collapse to your knees and lazily rock back on your idea of a dick. by this point, toji’s eyes are malicious, and his dick is hard in his slacks. shifting in his seat uncomfortably from what you’ve done.
“lemme see your face,” toji whispers in the air, the heat rushing to his cheeks. the things you do to him truly fascinating.
“g’na cuum, mmph daddy!” a high pitched squeal you let out stuns him, your hips shifting back and forth hurriedly. the flesh of your ass moving like water, and he’s in a trance. daddy? what the fuck are you doing to him? he wonders if you knew he was going to purposely join your live. already talking about him gave it away.
“c’mon, angel. show me,” the blood swells in his cock rapidly, tip damn near dripping with precum, unable to help but palm his heavy hand with it, humming and widening his legs.
“too-jii,” it’s faint the words you falter, a pathetic whimper followed by drool covered lips and a cute squeak. your body trembles from the depth of your orgasm, riding out your high and giggling cutely to yourself. to others, the words were inaudible. but to him, he knew exactly what the fuck you said.
the way you smile at yourself in the mirror, as if you’re looking at his fucked out face, you slowly upturn your head to bring it back to the livestream, a drunken, and dangerous grin on your face. never in his years of life had a woman made him gulp. to fear for what you’d do to him. how bad you’d break him, make him go fucking crazy. yearn for your pussy on his mouth.
you were fucking ethereal.
𓇼
of-fucking-course you’d be running late. you were supposed to meet toji at two and it’s two thirty. the location of c’est moi exactly twenty five minutes away from where you lived. you were close to the downtown area, not fond of parking down there but you’d drive faster than an uber can. you made sure to make toji aware of your lateness so he’s not getting the idea that you stood him up. never. not after the other day. you don’t know what happened, but your mind took over your body and you couldn’t help yourself. you only pray he didn’t see it, not expecting him to. it’s embarrassing now that you think back on it.
you manage to make it out of the house twenty minutes after, throwing on a simple white pleated cami dress with a ruffled hem, ruched bust, and pairing of olive green sandals that had tea rose shaded orchids clipped onto the forefront. a teri cherry printed coach bag tight on your shoulder after you sped sixty miles per hour towards the restaurant, finding parking and hurriedly making your way inside.
“hi, reservations for fushiguro. i’m extremely late,” as you approach the host, you make out the sight of the man you were here to see outside instantly. sitting alone sipping a cup of coffee. his side profile all you can see, that deep scar carved into the side of his mouth, his veiny hands big as he clutches the mug . . and your throat clogs up.
he’s fucking . . . big. fuck being nervous before, this made you want to run and hide and never show your face. he’s practically hunching over the table, making it appear smaller than it actually is. his hair is midnight black, his broad shoulders and muscles suffocating the sleek gucci button up he wore, a few undone, eyes studying his cellphone, awaiting your call. one thing about being a doctor, he’s learned to be patient. understanding your alarm forgot to go off, or rather you slept through it . . seemingly growing to become impatient. he needed to see your face now.
“right this way.”
your feet follow blindly behind the hostess, trying your best not to trip over your own feet, heart beating drastically against your ribcage. your palms are sweaty, feeling the warm breeze of spring air hit your skin as the hostess leads you outside to the table where toji resides. he sees you before you see him, the sun beaming on your skin not nearly as hot as your cheeks suddenly became when finally making eye contact. your right hand picks at the ends of your dress anxiously, toji taking a stand to welcome you like a gentleman. it’s like slow fucking motion the closer you approach him, and when you’re inches apart, you can see the stillness on his face. he doesn’t smile, his face is almost unreadable. not sure if he’s upset with you for being late, or he’s just not one for emotions.
“hi,” the hairs on your skin stand from the deep baritone of his voice, visibly swallowing as you stare up at him, height difference making you dizzy.
“hi,” you blink like an innocent doe. he’s hovering over you and the waiter whom sets the menu down on the table, his chest almost touching you as he comes around to pull your chair out for you to sit, finally getting so close to the point where he could breathe in your sweet perfume, the peony and white musk scent has him forcing down a groan. he’s staring intently at your backside, dark hair going to the middle of your back in wild curls, a bit frizzy due to the humidity outside.
“can i get you anything to drink, miss?” the waiter addresses you, politely waiting for toji to move out the way.
why is your entire body on fire? no man has ever had this affect on you. his aura exudes something sinister, overtly masculine even. “u-um, yes please. can i just have a frozen sangria?”
“of course, i’ll be back with that while you decide on your meal.”
“thanks,” you smile sweetly, trying your very best to avoid complete eye contact. once the two of you are alone, you build up the courage to look at him again. he’s seated once more, leaning back into his chair with a left arm resting over the back of the chair with his legs comfortably spread. he liked to do that a lot. his eyes are low, head adjusted somewhat to the left as he observes you.
“good to finally see you,” he’s the first to speak, again. that fucking voice of his; raspy and dominant. how are you supposed to carry out a conversation without folding?
“y-yeah,” you clear your throat, sitting up straight after shyly clamping your hands between your legs and trying to hide like a porcupine. “i want to apologize again for running late. out of all days my phone decides to not ring my alarm. i rushed here as soon as possible. i hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
his lips began to rise into a soft smile, and that eases your nerves. no one would notice you’d rush to get ready. so naturally pretty with your face glowing from rose water and petroleum jelly, hair brushed out, lashes only curled with mascara, lips lined with black liner and smothered with gloss while your prescription glasses sit on the bridge of your nose. too cute.
“sweetheart, no need for the sorry’s. i understand.”
he’s not mad, thank fuck. “kay,” you smile back, tucking pieces of flown hair behind your ear. “did you order yet?”
“was waiting on you,” he replied. “though i kind of lost my appetite. i’m craving something . . . else. so, order anything you’d like.”
that was surely a double meaning. now, you’re not so sure if you had an appetite anymore. you couldn’t bare to eat in front of this man right now. when the waiter came back with your drink, you downed half of it, toji chuckling from your anxiousness. you needed the liquid courage before uttering another word towards the man who watched you with motive, intention. the intimidation brewing from his body is corrupting you. you order a simple caesar salad, nothing too fancy.
“oh! i printed out the document we have to go over.”
toji’s eyes trail to your hands that reach for your purse, acrylic nails painted a peony pink pulling out your notebook stuffed with an arrangement of papers as well as a pen. “guess we can call it like an nda, affidavit . . whatever. i’m sure you’re aware of the obvious on why. um, we can discuss boundaries within the bedroom . . . things we will or will not condone. a safe word is a must. if you don’t feel comfortable showing your face i’d blur it out, but given i do livestreams most of the time that’ll be impossible. so i’d suggest a mask, which i’m actually in to so if that’s something you’re willing to do . . “
toji nods as you continue to ramble, carefully analyzing everything you say, though, his mind begins to drift elsewhere. he still couldn’t get that damn livestream out of his mind. killing himself these past two days just thinking about how fucked out he needed you to be, buried deep and crying underneath him. the cute expressions on your face when you moaned his name so publicly, as if you dared him to see. how desperately you fucked yourself on that pathetic toy of yours from the very thought of him. your whines, the illicit way you stared at your reflection in the mirror beneath your sculpture of a body you rolled seductively. he shifts in his seat, attempting to conceal the stirring of hunger within him as you continue to talk. he doesn’t need a fucking contract. he’d fuck you good and wouldn’t tell a soul.
his expression is firm yet tinged with a hint of something different this time . . anticipation. “why do you film content?”
the unwavering intensity in his gaze causes you to cut your sentence short, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you ponder on his question. was he even listening? “wha—what do you mean?”
toji chuckles. “i mean, why do you film? is it your main source of income? do you enjoy submitting to hundreds of people? does it make you feel confident, make you feel good? why?”
that should’ve been something you prepared yourself to answer. most of the guys you filmed content with didn’t have personal answers to ask, nor did they care. they were simply there to have a good time and go about their lives. you came into this situation thinking that’s what toji wanted as well. now you’re getting a gut feeling it’s more than that. or maybe you’re just an over-thinker. the whole point of making an account on hinge was to find better people to connect with for work, but most of them never got the job done, and you were tired of faking an orgasm and boosting a man’s ego. something about this one though, you can feel that he’s willing to worship you.
“well, i actually have three jobs. hairstylist during the day, which i’m growing to lose passion for. i’m good with pottery so i make little things and sell them. and then as for filming content . . . it’s fast money. the economy is shit right now. minimum wage jobs aren’t cutting it. rent prices are horrifying. i want to fund a new life for myself. to travel more, and just be a girl.”
toji smiles, admiring you.
“bali has been on my mind as a place to reside. it’s always been a dream of mine to be somewhere tropical. less breathing in polluted air and eating foods they pump full of hormones. mexico and puerto rico are also on the list. i really need to dip my feet in some sand or something. i don’t know. it’s also kind of sexually liberating to be in my own bubble and enjoy myself in that way. i do it for no one but myself.”
toji sits up in his seat, taking a piece of ciabatta and smearing softened butter onto the breadpicked up a slice of bread and smeared some butter onto it. “i think that moving to a place like that is a good idea. there’s a lot of bullshit in the world that’s hard to run away from. if you feel like it’s what’s best for your mental and emotional being, then go for it. you seem like you’ve worked real hard your entire life. you deserve a break.”
the heat in your cheeks rise as he leans himself closer, guiding the bread to your lips, waiting for you to take a bite. you smile softly, sitting up a bit in your chair before taking a bite. toji watches intensely as you moan from the taste.
“isn’t it much better when it’s given by someone else?”
“yeah, it’s good. real good,” you swallow, licking your lips to rid the breadcrumbs, reaching for your glass of wine to take another sip. “i have most of my savings in tact, so my plan is to be out of here by next year.”
the unadulterated pull between the two of you threatens to consume him as he stares at you, his body almost painfully yearning for your touch, your taste, your everything. toji can no longer resist. he reaches out and gently cups your chin, his fingers gently yet firmly tilting your face up to meet his smoldering gaze when you dared to look away. “how ‘bout you take me with you.“
the entire scene switches, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of lust and vulnerability makes you fall shamelessly into his trance. you feel your heart patter against your chest, scanning his entire face with small indications of panic, and excitement. you’ve been dying for his touch all week. you pray he’s as good as he looks.
“what’s the catch?” you breathe inordinately.
toji smirks. “we get fake married or something and change our identities.”
you shake your head at his joke. “i need to see a ring first, mister.”
“mhm, you look like a marquise kinda girl,” he tongues his cheek, in deep thought. “go to bali. i pay, you enjoy life.”
pairs of lips are mere inches away, toji ghosting his softly amongst your own, yours parting to follow. you feel like you’re in space, the feeling extraterrestrial. surrounded by depths of nothingness with only the two of you existing.
“i. . no, i can’t let you do that,” you shake your head dismissively.
“you deserve it.”
“you don’t know me.”
“good. that’ll be the perfect occasion for us to spend more time together,” he concludes, softly pecking your lips to coax you into giving him what he needed. you’re stunned, unsure what to say, or to think. so, he doesn’t make you think.
“fuckin’ kiss me,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of desire and vulnerability, eyes flickering from the plumpness of your lips to your eyes. “can’t wait any fucking longer.”
the heat of his breath mingles with yours as his lips brush against your own in a hungry, fiery kiss. his mouth devours yours with an intensity that borders on primal, each movement filled with a desperate need to taste and consume everything you have to offer. his tongue slips past your parted lips, eagerly exploring the depths of your mouth as if seeking to memorize every inch of you.
you were drawn in fully now and you didn’t think you’d be able to pull away even if you wanted.
within the moment of your passionate kiss, as toji’s rough hand trailed to grasp your throat, your waiter begins to approach with your salad, eyes widening as he noticed how deeply, and somewhat aggressively your make out session was. practically swallowing each others faces. deciding to mind his business and turn the other way. he’d come back in a few minutes. toji breaks the kiss abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of reluctance.
“damn this table,” he mutters, his gaze shifting towards the barrier separating the two of you. his breathing is ragged, body practically trembling with pent-up need. even so, he manages to pull himself together enough to maintain some semblance of composure.
he’s left you breathless, feeling something in your chest you’d never felt before, this attraction for him otherworldly. your lips are pouted, hands bawled into little fists levitating in front of your chest, as if you were begging for him to come back. when he begins to rise to his feet, you wonder where he’s going, eyes coming into immediate contact at the bulge growing tight in his jeans. you swallow, shifting your gaze up to the tall man that hovers over you possessively.
“go home, send me the address. i gotta handle a few business calls then i’ll be there at eleven.”
you hadn’t noticed the way your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you give him those damn puppy eyes, as if you’re so fascinated by him, almost scared of him to leave right now. toji grabs the pen resting between your little pink book, signing his signature on the indicated line on the bottom of the page for your gratification. after, he’s fishing for the brown leather wallet in his pocket to place down a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the tab and the waiters tip. then, he leans down, lips gently brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. he lingers just a moment longer, as if reluctant to let go.
“see you later, angel.”
finally, and with that, he steps back, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment before he turns and walks away, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoes in your ears, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a lingering sense of anticipation for the evening to come. starstruck entirely.
𓇼
a rush of arousal burned within you like wildfire as you lay in your empty bed, yearning for the man who's been gone for only a few hours now. caressing your collarbone while chewing on your lip, your phone rests in your palm, excitement brewing for twenty minutes now ever since he texted you to let you know he was on the way. a black baby doll is adorned on your soft skin. ruffle lace details at the neckline and hem with a satin waistband tie at the back into a cute bow. matching mesh g-string panty, and floral patterns along the bust and hip area.
you took the time to curl your hair, reminding yourself to actually put your contacts in this time. also keeping makeup to a minimum with just mascara, a bit of blush, and some strawberry chapstick. skin moisturized in baby oil and spritzed with miss dior. . . waiting. the camera’s set up across from your bed, trying to distract yourself by engaging in conversation with your viewers. the comments were raging about how impatient they were to see something, but how did they think you felt? you could barely walk out of that restaurant without feeling your legs shake.
he intimidated you beyond measure, and god knows what he’s going to do to you when he gets here. it’s a fear and form of greed you’d never felt before.
“my fucking hands are shaking,” you giggle anxiously, smiling to yourself and shaking your hands before dramatically breathing out.
as you waited, you did little things to keep your buyers entertained, showing your ass every now and then as you cleaned your room like a cute maid. call it foreplay. sitting on your knees now become uncomfortable, so you aim for lowering to your tummy and stretching your arms ahead of you, ass raised up. as soon as you get comfortable, your head pops up from the sound of heavy footsteps surrounding the small area of your home. it’s him. you’d hope, leaving the door unlocked so it’d be easier for him to enter.
“oh, fuck—y’all,” the anxiety is even worse now, mentally preparing yourself with steady breaths and shoving your face into the bed to scream happily. the emotions are bipolar. “he’s coming up.”
toji steps closer to your slightly cracked open door, pushing it open wide to see you. his demeanor nothing short of serious when he gets a good look at you, hearing you yap at your camcorder with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. he rests his right shoulder against the frame of the door, staring at you, admiring. his boots hit along the floor the closer he gets to you, and that cute ass you had perched up. the lights in your room are dimly lit, citrus candles spread around and led lights from your vanity illuminating the area. the vibe is nice, he likes it. like he likes you.
you continue to speak to your livestream and pretend he wasn’t there, trying to ignore your heartbeat picking up. the tension is in the air. you tried to steady your breathing as you continue to ramble about nonsense; animal crossing, sims you wanted to recreate and purposely wicked whim them. anything to distract yourself from the sparks shivering through your body. you prod the inside of your cheek trying to bite back a grin when you finally feel his hands on your hips, eyes watching the chat go wild from the brooding man behind you. what makes it all the more hot is that he hasn’t spoken a word, feeling like an intruder. stalking, waiting.
“so yeah, i’m thinking about dying my hair red. i feel like my face is kinda full to have a silk press so i’ll look . . off? maybe p-pin ‘urls,” a wave of pleasure shocks through you when you feel him press the outline of his dick against your cunt, dragging you back to air-fuck you once or twice. a few times. for the tease of it. his fingertips lightly flowing along the curves and contours of your body, your hips being the most sensitive. gasping and twitching from the feel, the thong you wore barely shielding how wet you were.
your breath became heavier, and you found it harder to continue speaking. you felt like moans would slip out of if you continued to react to his touch, the heat between you two rising. you were drawn fully into him. the reaction from him gave you a confidence boost, a slick smile showing on your face. while his body speaks of his own growing need, he remains a silent observer, his intense gaze watching as you maintain, or try, your playful conversation with the camera.
“i gotta admit something,” you smile into your hair that falls angelically around the frame of your face. his form, silhouetted behind you, takes on an ominous yet seductive presence. even though he remains hidden from view, his yearn is palpable, eyes locked on you as if he could consume you with a single glance.
“i fucked myself thinking of him,” a jolt of electricity runs down toji’s spine as he recollects the image. a low, involuntary groan escapes his throat as his grip on you tightens. “those of you who don’t remember. it was really, really good.”
that’s the final trigger. in seconds, a rough palm strikes the flesh of your ass, causing the cutest squeak to emit from you. toji’s wrapping his other fist around the softness of your hair and pulling you back to his hard chest. his cologne is strong, enrapturing even. your hand reaches beside you to catch his wrist in your grip, feeling the coldness of his expensive watch while he’s busy locking your jaw still and pressing his lips beneath your ear.
“really?” the tone is condescending, and as you nod frantically, pushing your ass back to feel him more, all you can hear is the unraveling of his belt. slowly removing it, the sound of the leather rubbing against the buckle and his pants. the anticipation fills you at an alarming pace. “i knew that, angel.”
how? wait, did he fucking watch the live you made that night? your legs nearly go weak at the possibility, sheer embarrassment consuming you. he wasn’t meant to see that. yeah, you told him about it. but him seeing that, then having lunch with you like nothing happened is crazy work. he noticed you’re frozen, chuckling darkly behind you.
“relax, doll. i can pretend i didn’t, ‘n you can show me all over again.”
he grabs your wrists, pining them behind your back with a rush of power fueling him, crossed hands sitting on your ass.
“this okay, baby?” he scans the side of your face for approval, using the smooth leather to bond them together. you hum, lips bitten and nodding obediently.
the look on your face in the camera is so worth the thousands of views from people who were just as desperate as he was to see you submit. your hands wriggle to touch him, laying your head on his shoulder and biting your lip as his teeth graze from your shoulder, to your collarbone, and your neck. your body’s completely on fire, and he makes it worse when he gently shoves you forward to fall on your face, back arched and ass high for his view, and theirs.
toji stared down at you as you remained there, fully surrendering yourself for the taking. his larger body leans over yours, fingers grabbing your chin to force your mouth to open. toji brushes his lips along yours, your desperate mouth sinking into him, feeling that same spark you felt earlier during lunch in your chest. he deepened the kiss to give you what you wanted, easily reading you, his tongue ravaging your mouth with his waist grinding into the shape of your ass. the kiss is so wet it has you mewling like a cat in heat, losing your breath.
“give me a safe word, hm?” toji sucks on his lower lip, the arousal in his eyes ruining you. a heavy hand rubs circles on your ass before hitting it again, another cute sound leaving that pretty mouth you had.
brushing your cheek along your bed set, dark curls dancing around your face and a pout on your lips, you whimper, “strawberry.”
“mhm,” your stomach flips when you felt his hand drift between your inner thigh, toji’s tongue skidding over your lips the same time his fingers apply pressure to your clit, rubbing in circles after he pulls your panties to the side, your babydoll resting pretty on top of the rolls on your back. your fists are balled tightly in your restraints, widening your mouth to suck on his tongue before giving him a deep kiss. the image on your face is pure dizziness. acting like your fucked dumb while barely being fucked. he couldn’t wait to see you crumble.
you squirm under his touch, breath growing short and shaky, toji maintaining eye contact with you dangerously. he’s big on it, and it makes you shy, yet brave enough to endure it.
“you hear yourself, girl?” toji hisses, pecking your lips hard, his fingers coated with your slick the more he rubbed. you whine, arching your ass even closer to his hand. “you’re so needy for me, it’s cute.”
it’s ridiculous that you can’t even speak, him turning you into nothing but a whiny, whimpering sub. “you’re desperate for my touch, for my tongue.” he whispered, his voice growing even rougher as his own need grew.
“mmm, yes. need it so bad,” you pout, mouth gaping after he spanks your clit lightly. “fuck, please eat it, baby.”
“i will good girl.”
he didn’t hesitate for another second, sliding behind you with one knee pressed into the bed and his big hands holding you still, spreading your cheeks further apart and cussing under his breath from how fucking cute your pussy was. fat, and glistening in your juices, clit hiding between your folds giving him something to search for. “g’na fuckin’ kill me, angel. pretty fuckin’ pussy you got.”
you scoot up as much as you can, hands still bound behind your back, wanting to cry from the inability to move, but loving that he had you at his mercy. his hair covers his eyes and he’s submerged into you, pressing his mouth to your pussy in a sweet kiss, like he’s knocking politely, before running his thick, long tongue over you slowly. a groan resounded devilishly, toji lapping at your dripping clit, tongue hot and your toes can do nothing but curl.
he’s slow and deliberate, enjoying the sounds and reactions he was getting out of you as you writhed and quivered under his ministrations. your pussy and his mouth makes up the loudest voice in the room, so fucking sweet and wet he’s salivating over you. spanking you, taking his time to devour you as he swallows your cunt whole, tongue gliding from your clit all the way to your hole. occasionally dipping his tongue into you to fuck you like that. your eyes cross, a broken cry making him lose it.
“keep bouncing that ass back, baby. fuck, fuck my face, angel,” he’s hitting you again, and you can’t take it, shifting your thighs to roll your ass back onto his gorgeous face. you’re panting like an animal, jaw dropping as he keeps his mouth on your clit, sucking it hard and groaning into your cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine.
“oh . . god, oooh god,” the gasp in your throat became high pitched, toji licking you faster when he sees you giving your utmost effort. continuing his onslaught on your sensitive clit, swollen and satiating his taste buds. his fingers dug into your thighs, lowering himself completely to sit on his knees before you, rocking you back on his face as he eats it, unrelenting. sucking, licking, slurping, drowning his tongue inside of you . . . damn, it’s fucking good.
“c-cumming,” he can barely hear you as you stuff your face into the bed, toji’s head bouncing as you settle your feet on his shoulders and rock back on his face even quicker, groaning. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, babyyy.”
“mhm hmm,” he’s moaning into your pussy, kissing and tonguing you down until you finally burst, your hands in their constraint balling into fists, getting the chance to latch onto his black hair once he pushes you flat on your stomach to bury his face completely between your ass and thighs. “let it out, baby.”
his chin glistened from your juices, toji groaning the rougher you tugged at his scalp, dick jumping in his jeans he needed to unravel soon. when you cum, you do this thing where you squeal and gasp at once, and he swears it’s the cutest thing he’s ever fucking heard. lifting his face, he licks his lips proudly, wiping his chin and patting your ass to watch it shake in his palm. you were a lovely display beneath him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of ownership over you.
he reached down and traced a finger along the length of your trembling leg, his dominant presence still overwhelming. he brings his hand to the back of your neck which you arched into his touch, his eyes darkening at your silent plea. “you want more?”
“nn, yea,” a breathless giggle falls from you, toji dragging you to sit at your knees by the grip on your neck and around your chest with his forearm, back hitting his chest again, and your eyes come into contact with the camera, almost forgetting it was there.
“show them what i did to your pussy, angel. let them see how perfect you are,” toji whispers, tapping at your knees to help you sit on your behind.
“okay,” the words are small again, because that’s how he makes you feel. once you sit, you raise your knees to your chest, toji lifting your babydoll to show your soft tummy and the pink lights from your vanity mirror glowing on the angles and curves of your body. you look like the finest art.
it’s liberating seeing yourself like this, a sense of relief washing over you when he begins to unloose the belt, humming elatedly and arching into him, your periwinkle painted toes twinkling in the air playfully. toji laughs at you, your hand coming to your cunt to cover it out of fake shyness, rolling to lay on your side and giggling to yourself. you really did know how to play a role, or maybe you’re just naturally silly.
toji unfastened his button before drifting his zipper down, thick thighs spread and arms bulky as he kept them in fists into the bed, tilting his head in your direction as he sat beside you, body taking up half the bed. you sit on your knees next to him, your hands running across his stomach and lifting up his shirt, toji licking his lips when your nails delicately scratch at his hips. you moan when his hand comes into contact with your hair, your nails digging into the broadness of his thigh.
as he guided your head down, you could feel the heat coming off of his body. you could smell the unique scent of masculinity wafting off of him. the feeling of his fingers running through your hair sent tingles down your spine, his touch tender and affectionate despite his dominating demeanor. your chest fluttered when his thumb touched your lower lip, your breath stuttering and your body quivering, a heat rising in your core all over. you felt the need for him grow stronger, pulling your lip downward. he shifted his fingers and tilted your chin up further, exposing your throat and neck to him. then he leans over, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head as his mouth latches onto your neck. pressing light kisses along the sensitive skin, his tongue grazing out and your skin pricks with fire.
“can’t stop tasting you,” he grunts, his lips and tongue on your throat licking hard, driving you insane with need. his hand holding the back of your neck in a possessive manner, keeping you in place as his mouth explored your sensitive skin.
“toji. .” your voice is weak, feeling your inner thighs drown in a puddle of your arousal. “wanna suck it.”
“i’m sorry, what was that?” he hums.
“don’t tease,” you roll your eyes and pout.
“mhm,” he lets out a little grunt as his eyes rake over you, his breath catching slightly as he stares at you. he runs his hand down to your waist, gripping fervently. “so pretty,” he murmurs.
“thank you,” you whisper, feeling a strong rush of affection for him. “you’re so handsome,” you say, your voice low and tender.
“g’na give it a good kiss, baby? real good?” he hisses, your hand pulling at his jeans to sit lower on his sharp hips, letting his dick free and watching it with a watered mouth as it sat against his tummy. heavy, thick, two veins protruding on either side. you fucking knew he was big. bless your intuition.
“yes, want it,” you plead.
a low growl escaped his throat. “show me you want it then,” he purrs, his eyes growing darker with desire and his grip on your hip tightening.
the salivation in your mouth gave you just what you needed to do the job, widening your mouth to accommodate his size, drooling over his dick as you pull him in as deep as you could to start. half of him enclosed by the warmth of your mouth and instantly toji moans from the feel, your cheek sucking in while you guide your head up and down, keeping your hands to yourself, one on his thigh for balance. your eyes are closed to focus, humming and dragging your mouth slow to make him feel it all. toji catches himself knocking his head back, pulling the sheets between his fingertips and scrunching his brows together, stomach caving in.
he can hear you slurp and suck at him needily, moaning around him and riding the air with your ass, spit gliding down to the base of his dick as your tongue sticks out to drag along the under of his shaft, bobbing your head and licking at him. something about giving him head in specific felt intoxicating. maybe it’s the sounds he makes; guttural yet whiny. the desperation begs to tug at his throat, shifting his hips blindly and cussing under his breath. eventually, his fingers find their way back to your scalp, toji sitting up and entangling both hands into your hair, face curated in pleasure with eyes wired shut and a gaped jaw.
“shit, ꒰♡꒱. that’s fuckin’ good, doll,” toji grunts, your moans around him encompassing him to briefly detangle a hand to spank against your ass in clear indulgence. “damn.”
your hand couldn’t help but travel to touch him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick to stroke your hand according to the pace your mouth drags. that gravitational wave in his abdomen hit, a deep ‘your suckin’ it so good’ fleeing from his mouth followed by another harsh spank and a steady tug at your scalp to push you down only enough to follow your rhythm. when he hits the back of your throat, you force yourself to hold him there for a few seconds, purposely constricting your throat to hear him moan for you again, and again. his sounds addicting.
toji chuckles from how good you’re doing, raising your head to breathe before swallowing only the tip while stroking the remainder, your salvia being enough lubricant to quickly move your wrist. twisting and tugging while keeping it mostly on the head of his cock, the sensitive spot your toy to play with as you give teasing kitty licks, two hands covering him now.
picking your head up momentarily, you stare into his eyes with your siren ones, low and dangerous. pulling at his dick while you bite your lips before kissing him, mewling when he shoves his tongue into your mouth, pulling your body closer by your ass, the other grabbing the side of your face he practically swallowed into his own. the kiss is feverish, something straight out of a movie. he’s highly infatuated with you, tasting himself off of you with the mixture of yourself. toji sucks on your lower lip, and you find yourself positioning your thigh over his to sit and grind on his leg. you had enough of the foreplay, you needed him to fuck you.
“fuck me,” a whimper escapes, pressing your body down harder onto him, hand still stroking at him, that fucking voice of yours driving him mad. he doesn’t think he’ll last if you keep it up. “toji. . . toji.”
“stop begging,” he shuts it down quickly, the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he kicks them off exciting you. of course you couldn’t hide the smile, feening innocence as you pet at his jeans to help him remove them.
he's only in his black shirt now, your eyes following how his muscles swallowed the material, showcasing every sharp cut of his upper body. he made you dizzy, truly. that slit on the side of his mouth curving with his mouth as he smirks at you for getting lost in your cute little dream land.
“focus, love,” toji reels you back in, his hand on your lower back to arch your chest into his, dragging you to straddle him. if he could see the blush on your face he’d see that you were red as a tomato, his dick sitting right beneath you and you can’t help but shudder. “need you to lift your hips, help daddy out.”
“kay,” you nod like a damn bobble head, laying your hands on his shoulders and balancing yourself on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck for extra security. toji’s large arm his thrown around your waist to keep you locked to him, both of your body heat scorching.
he catches a hold of his dick, pumping it twice before he’s rubbing the fat tip against your drenched opening, collecting your flow before a soft gasp emits past your lips when you feel him gently enter, sinking you down carefully, little by little. the sensation from the stretch is . . like a fantasy. your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling as he removes his hand to balance the two of you on the bed, leaning back somewhat for your comfortability.
when you think he’s fully apart of you, that thought is knocked down the minute he utters, “c‘mon, girl. you gotta lot more to take.”
“oh my god,” the shock is out of, well, shock. he feels really good already, it’s gonna be hell if you handle any more. embedding your nails into his clothing, chin resting between the crook of his neck while you ground your ass back to make it easier for him to slip completely in. the two of you groan in sync, toji’s arm tightening around your waist from how tight you felt.
the more you rock, slow, steady, it fucks the both of you up. holding tightly onto one another while toji lets you take your time, the heavy breathing and hearts beating rapidly is fucking poetic. one might call this act making love. once you drop your ass entirely, that pressure in your sweet spot causes you to scream out softly, losing balance and sitting on your knees, holding onto him with an unexpected whine.
“shit, baby, you alright?” he’s immediately checking in on you, bringing you up and make eye contact, hands holding either side of your face and scanning for signs. pushing away the fact that you’re convulsing around his dick and trying his best not to fuck you hard. yet, at least.
again, you can’t even speak. your mouth is wide open, nodding and breathing heavily, shifting your hips and grind onto him, flexing your ass when you arch your back deeper before lifting halfway and slamming yourself down. toji chokes, face copying yours as he grips onto the sheets and places his arm back around you, helping you lift yourself.
“you feel . . really good, baby. stuffing me full,” you moan, toji grunting and yanking you up and down faster, losing his patience now. it blew out the fucking window the minute he slipped inside you. he fixates on the sound of your pussy sliding and swallowing his dick, the slick making his tongue water for the taste all over. you’re so fucking sweet it’s insane.
“yeah?” he lets out a low, guttural groan and grips your hips even harder, his breaths coming out in deep gasps. “fuck me like you fucked that toy, thinking of me.”
that makes you smile, that insecurity of him seeing that video earlier disappearing as you take both of your small hands and wrap them around his throat, using your weight to push his body so he falls onto his back, his hands cupping the curves under your ass cheeks. toji usually isn’t one for submission, but he’s been thinking for a while about trying new shit, and a pretty girl like you choking and fucking him was only the start. you see the look in his eyes, and you feel heat sweltering inside of you even more, relishing the fact that you are the one in control, applying more pressure to his neck, loving the way his breath hitches.
“you want me to fuck you just like that?” you lick your lips and grind teasingly, the dangerous swirl of your hips making his head sink further into the bed.
“want you to fuck me like that, angel. gimme a show.”
and you won’t deny his wish. positioning yourself back on the tips of your toes, his hands are smoothing underneath your thighs, clutching on either sides as you with his eyes going dark, his hips bucking. he can barely string a thought together, his mind completely consumed by the sensations you’re sending through him. your pussy takes it all while you pounce your body above him, rolling your waist each time you dip your ass down and meet his thighs.
“fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes never leaving yours before his voice rasps out, “keep going. fuck me for real. like you want it. it’s yours.”
you let out a strangled gasp, body jerking and mind almost slipping away, the pleasure he’s giving you overwhelming and consuming you completely. his hands on your body clench harder, the warmth from his body on yours killing you.
“just like that,” his hands move at their own possession now, slamming down on your ass repeatedly to bruise your skin, the hits vibrating straight to your clit and it’s making you drunk. your eyes scroll back into your skull, his appraisal driving you to work for it faster.
“t-toji, i’m so wet for you,” you gasp in shock from the slickness between you two. “look what you did to me. you slide in and out so easily.”
“f-fuck, doll. you’re killing me talkin’ like that,” he lets out a strangled gasp at your words, voice ragged and eyes filled with need. “you like it that much, baby?”
“y-yes!” a squeal sounds from you, bouncing heavier than before, your voice getting caught in your throat from the impact. you clutch any part of his skin you can grab, losing yourself in the way he fills you. “i love your dick, baby. makes me feel prettier.”
hazy eyes filled with pleasure admire your features, fucked out already when he still has so much he wanted to do to you. give you what you deserve. a smirk tugs at his lips, sitting up and leaning in close, missing the skin contact. his voice low and rough as he says, “you look prettier when you’re sitting on my dick.”
“yeah,” you drunkenly nod. “s’mine.”
toji raises a brow with amusement. “it can be yours. when you cum on it real hard.”
wanting him even closer to you, you keep only one hand around his neck, placing the other on his forearm and pressing your chest to his entirely as you gyrate your hips and tease his neck, hovering over his skin with your mouth and teeth before you leave little love-bites on his skin. toji guides your hips in a circular motion, the simple switch up making you gasp and whine into his ear, hitting that spot repeatedly.
“god, baby,” you feel his guidance, his grip on your hips firm as he moves you. you ride against him, the friction on your clit making you whimper weakly, his deep voice in your ear making your body shake, feeling another orgasm develop. “i love it. s’fucking me so good.”
“see you movin’ just like you did for me on that mirror,” he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing firmly. your eyes lock, yours clouded by arousal, his with an agenda. “fuckin’ yourself like that . . ima fuck you real bad for that,” toji hissed, swiping his tongue across his lower lip before aggressively smacking your ass. “i feel that fuckin’ pussy squeezing me tighter. if you’re g’na cum then do it on me. gush all on it.”
the more your body reacts to his praise, and sprinkles of degradation, the faster your orgasm approaches you, washing over you hard as your body spasmes from the intensity of it. your teeth sink into his shoulder as you scream, riding out your high, squeezing hard on his arms. toji kisses your temple, keeping you close as he falls back and lays on his side while turning you to face your camera you’d both forgotten about, still did.
“you did so well,” the kisses continue around your face while your brains on autopilot, his hand clasping around your neck as he presses his hot chest against your back. his kisses are so aggressive it makes you feel small and wanting to obey. you jump when he spanks you, moaning weakly into your shoulder with your arms halfway hanging off the bed.
toji goes lift your right leg to adjust himself behind you, dick achingly hard and covered in your juices, slipping back inside of you fully before angling your knee towards your tummy, keeping a hand locked under the bend of your knee, your skin smooth to the touch. you smell good too. everything about you besotted him. your hand touches his face, tugging it closer to the point where his nose smushed against your cheek, dark hair clouding your eyesight as his big frame overtakes yours.
“you’re gonna kill me,” you whisper, eyes focused on each other, a giggle creeping up.
“not you,” he whispered back, rolling his waist back and forth, grinding deeper into you. the plush of your ass molding against his sharp hips. his lips brush on your neck as he kisses and nibbles at your sensitive skin. your hands roam over your body, touching and exploring every inch of yourself as his lips trail down your collarbone, darkly watching as your hand presses on your clit. “her.”
as he possessively holds you in place, he’s prepared you enough before he’s fucking you hard, knocking the wind from your throat completely. a hard gasp falls past your lips as toji slams his hips against your ass, knitting his brows together, squeezing his eyes shut while his mouth falls open. the utter silence both of your voices held at the moment was more powerful than the rough interaction of your skin. your eyes a ghost white as he pounds his dick into you hard. when a noise is made, it’s from equal parts, syncing your eager moans.
“ooh, fuck baby. you’re taking it,” he huskily whispers into your ear, his words punctuated by the way he continues to move into you. “sucking me so deep. m’not going nowhere.”
“to-ji,” his name is broken down by the harsh pounds he fucks you with, whining and moaning in his entrapment. your vision gone. “i love the way you fuck me. you fuck me so good.”
he fucks like he’s not letting up, his body pushing you deeper into the mattress, the grip around your neck remains tight, the feeling of his ownership only growing more intense. his body is hovering over yours now, digging deep as he can to fuck you real good, to make himself feel it all. your body remains to the side, only half twisted as he drops your leg and pushes his weight into you so your stomach is close to grazing the bed.
“s’too much, fuck . . i, i—” the words are caught in your throat from the overstimulation. breathing heavy, tears begin to fill your sockets, whining his name loudly in his face like you’d lost your mind for good this time. this pleasure was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s everything you needed and more.
toji shushes you, kissing your nose as he grips your face, big hand almost covering it whole. “you like when daddy takes control? you like when he tells you what to do?”
toji will admit, you’ve got him fucking spent. it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman submit and cry under him, and you do all those things well. the gorgeous image on your face, to the salacious movement of your body. the softness of your skin and the equal relation of your voice. capturing and captivating him. you’d think he was on drugs the way he was talking. high off his ass from your pussy. his lips gently brush over your ear. your eyes flutter, his voice attacking your clit, and you swear it makes it gush even more, soaking the sheets underneath your ass. “when he makes you his? you like being my good girl, pretty?”
he knows you can’t speak anymore, but you’re still interactive with your body language. the slur of your nonexistent words to the way you try to roll your ass back to fuck him back . . but he’s got you trapped. even the tears falling down your face from overwhelming pleasure. he knows you’re okay, asking for a safe word prior for your protection. you’re a big girl, he knows you can handle it.
“nnng,” you can’t stop trembling, gasping for air and sobbing in his face. toji places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes and nodding, cooing. you are fucked dumbed. toji hisses, hitting your ass and pausing momentarily to look between where you two collide, an ‘oh my god’ faltering out. he’s as gone as you are.
“you so fuckin’ creamy, girl,” toji drags out a frustrated hum, getting annoyed by how good your pussy is. you’re going to become a problem.
“please,” you don’t even know what you’re saying it for. do you need him to stop, do you want more, or are you just completely fucked out you’re saying anything that’s coming to your head? that butterfly feeling is back in your stomach, as well as a foreign one near your clit, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. “toji, m’ g’na c-cummm. oh my god, babyy.”
your hiccups and sobs only urge him to fuck you even harder, loving how the breath literally jumps out of your throat in shock.
“cryin’ on this dick. fuck, you got me going crazy,” he really doesn’t want to cum yet, he needed to fuck you in every way imaginable. but he knows you need a break, to breathe for sure. he wanted to edge himself so that when he finally came, it’d be the best fucking orgasm of his life. your moans are clawing at his soul, so filthy and dulcet. you’re making it really fucking difficult to obtain that.
toji finds himself slamming his palm over your mouth to bury them in a way, but you’re so damn loud it’s getting to him. ‘fuck fuck fuck’ he’s cussing repeatedly in a whispered hush as he fucks you as hard he possibly can. his hand doesn’t even work, because you’re consuming him wholly and the minute he feels that build up, he pulls out to cum and you’ve drenched the sheets as you squirt. an almost blood curdling scream surrounds the room, your body rapidly trembling as your mouth falls open in utter shock, gasping, whining, whimpering, moaning his fucking name while he moaned yours. toji nutting up the entire side of your body, wrist twisting as he holds you body still, mouth drawn open.
his hand reaches over to unclamp your legs, heavy hand rubbing your pussy to stimulate you further, your back arching and head sinking into your pillow, crying out. he watches your hand flail to grip his wrist as your wetness continues to spurt out of you like water.
“strawberry!” toji listens to you weep, choking on your cries and pleads. finally having enough.
“holy s-shit,” you’re laughing while also trying to catch your breath, not believing that just happened. he can tell by the shock in your face that you’ve never had it happen before, or that much.
“damn,” he laughs along with you, smacking your outer thigh before smashing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, gliding your tongues together while his hands massaged every part of your body after allowing you to lay on your back. caressing and soothing you to calm you down. “gonna grab a rag.”
you pout when he goes to stand, already missing the disconnect as you lay empty on your . . messy bed. absolutely disgusting you two, hawk puth! one things for sure, you can’t keep that wide ass smile off your face. he comes back into the room, one of your pink towels wrapped around his midsection covering up that demon of a dick he carried. toji smirks down at you, grabbing your ankle and tugging you down to the edge of the bed before he’s taking a warm rag that smelt of your dove beauty bar to wipe what he painted on you. you swallow your lower lip into your mouth, watching with hooded eyes as he drags the rag sensually along ever part of your skin. you flinch when it comes to contact with your cunt, toji kissing your inner thigh with a ‘sorry’. he admires the curves of your body even more, kissing your ankle adorned with a silver anklet after he finishes.
“how you feeling?” he asks.
“i’m more than perfect.”
he hums. “you’re something else.”
“i was good?” you ask seriously, batting your lashes shyly.
toji stares at you as if you’re deadass. “don’t do that. you know you were. you didn’t hear me? i fuck you deaf?”
that makes you roll your eyes, but not before giggling. “hate you.”
“you won’t after i tell you i got chinese in the kitchen,” he winks, the light in your eyes making his heart swell. “c’mon, sexy.”
you sit up, gasping. “i knew i fucking smelt that shit when you came in. i thought it was outside!”
“nah, i realized i didn’t eat shit at the restaurant earlier so i decided to get us both something. did you even eat your salad?”
“i did, had to after you dropped a whole hundred,” you shake your head. “how’d you know i liked chinese?”
toji blinks. “baby, we literally talked half of this week. for hours. i have good memory.”
that slip of a nickname outside of sex warmed your chest, burying your face in your hair to hide your shyness. “you’re right.”
“don’t hide now, i’ve seen it all,” he chuckles, tickling the bottom of your foot.
“oh, whatever!” you chuck one of your plushies at him, half of them had fallen to the floor. toji gets up to grab your robe he saw hanging on the bathroom door, draping it around you as you stood.
he kisses your forehead and you walk ahead of him into the kitchen, screeching when he hit and gripped your ass, the two of you forgetting about the livestream altogether as you warmed up the food, poured a glass of wine and reminisced about what just happened.
angelbwrry live : 1M viewers.
© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝑀𝒪𝒞𝐻𝒜’𝒮 𝑀𝐼𝒩𝒟. ✧｡˚#jjk#toji x you#toji x reader#toji x black reader#toji smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x you#toji x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushigro x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x black reader
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A New Game
It must get boring playing the same mundane games, like rock-paper-scissors, for millennia. The Obey Me cast would probably jump at the opportunity to try something new. Something introduced from the human world.
(This fic is not explicit in nature but repeatedly uses a word some people consider naughty.)
---
You received a message from Lucifer.
"My brothers are studying in the library. I have to step out for a while, will you supervise them until my return?"
The RAD library was busier than usual with students rushing to cram before the next big exam. The usually serene room had demons occupying every nook. Some sat on the floor with their back to a bookcase, some perched on the ladders leading up the shelves, and few were lucky to have a table seat.
Six of the seven brothers sat around one such coveted table. Lesser demons shied away from approaching them and even the more powerful students felt uneasy walking by. You were the only one with both guts and permission to approach.
The atmosphere was strange. They looked focused and were completely silent, so you greeted them with a wave and slid into the last open chair. Must have been Lucifer's. You leaned forward against the table edge and took a peak at Satan's advanced curse notes.
Things were too still. It felt wrong. At a glance they appeared to be studying, surrounded by book stacks and messy note sheets, but the brothers stared blankly at the material in front of them them without actually interacting with it. Something was up.
Leviathan made a barely perceptible sound. You looked at him, but brushed it off as your imagination when you realized he hadn't moved. It could have been someone nearby turning the page of a book.
At least they were all behaving. You couldn't force them to study, you were just there to supervise. You took a moment to enjoy the rare sight of the grand library being full. It was weirdly inspiring. A minute later you saw Mammon's lips twitch. He definitely said something under his breath.
"What?" you whispered, leaning his way.
Mammon dismissed you with a wave of his hand, shaking his head. You gave him a confused look.
Another mumble came from the opposite direction. You swung your head towards Asmodeus but he was fixated on a blank potion worksheet. He didn't so much as flinch when you narrowed your eyes suspiciously and waved a hand in front of his face.
"Ok. What's going on?" you asked. If this was a new way to study, it sucked.
Beelzebub coughed. It was so obviously fake. The way he covered his mouth made it hard to discern what he said.
"Lucifer's not here, you know. You guys can tell me." Would you rat them out if they were doing something malicious? That remained to be seen.
Feeling that someone was going to try again, you abandoned any hope of studying and focused all your senses towards the brothers. Who would be next to move?
It was both Satan and Belphegor. Being across from each other, you couldn't pay attention to them both and missed what they each said. They broke the stillness to make eye contact with each other and clenched their jaws in frustration.
Asmodeus took advantage of the moment to act next. The boys were getting a little louder each time, and this time you could almost make out what was said.
"...nis." Leviathan briefly shrunk behind a stack of books to say his piece.
Realization began dawning on you.
Beelzebub pretended to clear his throat. You were ready this time, and caught the word clear as day. "Penis."
By goodness, they were playing the human game you told them about. The Penis Game.
"What are the stakes? What are you playing for?" You had to know. They were doing this in the school's library, of all places? The brothers eyed each other with distrust.
"Winner gets to have you sit in their lap when Lucifer gets back," Leviathan explained, throwing a quick "penis" onto the end of his sentence.
You wondered if Lucifer would even allow that while Mammon said "penis," plain as day. A passing gaggle of students looked over.
Up on the second floor, a random demon stumbled and almost fell off a ladder, sending the books they carried crashing to the ground. Satan took advantage of the noise to say "penis" in a louder-than-average tone. The stakes were rising.
You were supposed to be supervising these guys, to make sure they studied properly to pass their exams. You should have put a stop this game. But it was funny and you were too curious how it'd unfold.
Belphegor shut his eyes. After a few deep breaths, he snorted a noise that resembled the word.
"That doesn't count," Asmodeus pouted. "It wasn't clear enough. Penis."
Belphegor furrowed his brow and cracked an eye open. "What? Yes it does. I said penis, didn't I?"
Satan clicked his tongue. "That's debateable. Penis."
The table was now speaking rather loudly and attracting stares from every direction. Nobody would dare shush the rulers of the Devildom without a death wish, but they could observe them in silence.
"I-I don't know how much longer I can do this... P-penis." Leviathan was at his limit. He didn't like the stares. Maybe if you had told them this was the "anime game" he would have stood a chance.
"What? We're just saying penis." Asmodeus had no reservations at all.
"Penis." While Mammon called out, students noticeably began trickling out of the library.
"Maybe we should wrap this up, you guys are disturbing everyone," you gingerly suggested.
"That's not fair, penis. Are you saying you want to sit in Mammon's lap?" Belphegor scowled.
Beelzebub, newly determined to beat his older brother and spurred on by his twin, bellowed "penis."
The yelling caused more students to pack up their belongings and scurry out. You cringed a bit. All remaining eyes in the library were on your table. "No! I'm not favoring anyone, but this is getting out of hand."
"Penis! They're just jealous! Come over here, I'll take good care of you." Mammon patted his thigh.
"Absolutely not! Mammon, get away from them! Penis!" Asmodeus shouted and grabbed your shoulder. Uh oh.
The physical altercation began. Satan growled, "don't touch them," and shoved Asmodeus into Leviathan's textbook stack. "Penis."
"H-hey! Watch it! Ugh, penis!" Leviathan scrambled to avoid Asmodeus' fist.
"Wow, Satan! Rude! What if I got scratched? Penis!" Asmodeus lurched at Satan, who ducked and sent the former crashing into Beelzebub.
Beelzebub didn't really care, but he still wanted to win. "Penis."
"Yeah, penis. You said it Beel." You didn't really get what he meant, but Belphegor was upset in his twin's place.
"I'm winnin' this thing! Penis!" Mammon nearly toppled the table over.
Everyone was straining to shout as loud as they could, a rowdy chorus of "penis" chants. You watched the insanity of the scene unfold in front of you, hoping demon forms would not get involved.
Something made you shudder. An ice cold, low rumble of a voice from the library entrance that cut through all the arguing and screams.
Lucifer had returned. "You're not studying."
He was followed by Lord Diavolo and Barbatos who both remained quiet, letting Lucifer deal with his family.
"You disrupt our meeting for this?" Lucifer's eyes could have had flames in them. A black mist emanated from his shoulders. He was furious. "Do you know how many complaints we received? Half the student body showed up, knocking at our door."
Diavolo was beside himself trying to maintain composure befitting a royal. He wanted nothing more than to laugh. Lucifer was not going to hear the end of this incident.
Barbatos had a cold smile plastered to his face and a hand on his chest, implying that one wrong move would result in unfathomable punishment.
The brothers shifted uncomfortably back into their chairs, dragging textbooks towards them and guiltily sticking their noses back into piles of notes. They didn't dare utter a single word.
"Don't think any of you are getting off scott free." Lucifer loomed over them. They could already feel the impending rope burn on their skin.
"If you wanted extra duties so badly, there are many sites on school grounds that can use improvement. You could have just asked." Barbatos was happy to take advantage of their suffering if it was beneficial for Diavolo.
Lucifer looked at you. He wasn't mad, just disappointed, which felt worse. "Don't think you're innocent, either. You were supposed to be supervising them."
You nervously averted your eyes, slumping your shoulders while picking at the corner of some notebook paper as he continued, "come with us back to the council room. You're giving us a detailed report on exactly what happened here, and what this 'penis game' malarkey is all about."
#diavolo's gonna talk about this for centuries. diavolo's gonna be like “barbatos lets play the p game.” “no my lord.” “barbatos please.”#pls dont ban me for this.#no proof reading. i sit down and hash this out and send it into the world to get it out of my head and then spend hours in regret.#obey me#obey me swd#obey me scenarios#obey me!#omswd#obey me shall we date#obey me x mc#obey me fanfic#obey me brothers#obey me fic#obey me crack#obey me writing#obey me drabble#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me mc#obey me x reader#obey me x you
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pleasseeee I need more for angel brat 🙏🙏🙏 it’s just too funny reading about Danny messing with the batfam
Jason regrets ever agreeing to babysit.
Logically, he knew that leaving Danny alone was a terrible idea. Not only was the little boy suffering from medical conditions, but if he were to discover they had forgotten him, he would zap himself out of the timeline.
Right now, Bruce and the others were working nonstop with the Flashes to try to figure out a way to anchor him to the new timeline they had created. Bart had a general idea of how to best go about this, but he warned everyone that it may be a lost cause.
Still, to keep their angel, everyone agreed to let the time traveler do his thing. Bart explained that he needed to get readings around Wayne Manor first to see if the Speed Force could help them anchor Danny to that location.
Once the anchor was dropped successfully, Danny would be free to move about their world without the fear of vanishing.
Since it was the one place Danny had been in the most in the old timeline and was planning on living in for the unforeseen future, everyone agreed to his idea.
That meant they needed to get Danny out of the Manor for a good amount of time. He couldn't see them working without answering some uncomfortable questions, nor could they just leave him defenseless in Gotham.
Due to Danny's medical conditions, the family had kept him mostly at the manor, but they didn't want to keep him locked up, which meant that there were some rumors about the boy.
The Bats used those rumors to verify that Danny existed before the timeline rest. They also studied them to get to know the boy before meeting him face to face.
It wasn't a lot, but enough to get a general idea of what the populace thought about Danny. It was an even split between people confusing him for Damian or thinking the Waynes were covering him up and not giving the people the explanation they "owed" them.
Jason wanted to know why random strangers on the streets thought they had a right to know their lives and couldn't keep their noses out of Wayne's business, but that might just be his Crime Alley upbringing talking.
There had been a few articles about Danny being seen around Gotham—mostly, the reporters thought it was Damian and speculated what happened to him. Jason noticed that Danny's previous outings seemed to revolve around two things.
Space and antiques.
Why? Jason was unsure but figured it would be the perfect cover to get Danny out. The rest of the family stayed behind to help with the tests.
"This is going to be awesome!" Danny cheered as Jason helped him with his gas tank. The two were standing outside the historical Gotham Museum.
It was a random Tuesday, so they and the staff were the only ones there.
Jason had figured that Danny had a love of history, which meant that he would be happy if Jason promised him a full day of riding around to see every museum the city had to offer.
It was disguised as Jason being bored and a spur-of-the-moment invitation, which was why no one else was free when asked to come along. Danny didn't seem to question it too much, running off to prepare for a fun day filled with historical retellings.
Jason wasn't that into history.
Still, he enjoyed reading enough period-era books to be willing to spend hours on random historical tours with Danny.
Danny was practically glowing as he leaned back and forth on his feet impatiently. He kept swinging his eyes to the building as though he could fly right in.
Jason's lips twitch. "It's going to be fun."
Together, they climb the stairway to the door. The museum is one of the biggest in the city. It has exhibits dating back to before Gotham's discovery, tracing all the urban legends and local myths from then to the present day.
Jason thought Danny would like to hear fascinating stories like Solomon Grundy's origins and the Wayne family's myths. Apparently, Bruce's family has always been a bit...strange.
He just wasn't prepared for Danny, already knowing that little fact about his bloodline.
"Do you think they'll have the Wayne witch burns!?" Danny excitable asks, causing Jason's steps to flatter.
"The what?"
"You know when they tried to burn three of the Wayne sisters in the town square on accounts of witchcraft? I always thought it was funny how the sisters managed to get away by setting the church on fire." Danny giggles, walking over to the lady at the counter. "It's one of my favorite exhibits."
"You've been here before?" Jason asks, entirely unprepared for that. In hindsight, it made sense for Danny to go somewhere of interest to him. Damian has visited the zoo at least thirteen times in his first year!
Danny quirks an eyebrow up at him. "Of course I have. You were the one who brought me here before, remember?"
Oh no.
"Are you sure?" he laughs nervously, looking up at the woman who is paying for two tickets—one adult and one child. She smiles at him sweetly as she stamps their papers—the museum liked to use Gotham's first original train tickets as passes. Danny pulls out his own for a collectible stamp, which makes Jason wince.
"Stop being weird Jason. No matter how much you pretend, I'm not going to let you get out of the photo," Danny tells him with a grin.
The photo?
"Is the booth available, ma'am?" Danny asks the woman with the politest tone he's ever heard a fourteen-year-old use. The woman, a twenty-something that was awfully pretty, smile grows wider.
"It is. What era would you like?"
Danny stops, pressing his thumb against his chin before asking, "What era is Pride and Prejudice set in? "
"It was The Regency period in England, but we knew it as the Federal," Jason responds instantly. "I don't know the exact number of years, though. Why?"
"I just wanted to check if Gotham was around then." Danny peaks up at the woman. "Gotham was founded in sixteen thirty-five, right?"
"Yes, but some argue that the Dutch founded it first, even if they moved on a few years before Captain Jon Logerquist." She says, giving Danny a wink. "That does mean we have Federal period outfits for you boys."
"Yeah!" Danny grabs onto Jason's wrist. "We can dress up as Mr. Darcy like you always wanted, Jay!"
The woman laughs as Jason's face starts to heat up. He has never been embarrassed about his love of classical books. It's the fact his little brother exposed his nerdier side to a girl he thought was sort of attractive.
She probably thought he ran around cosplaying or something.
"I'll go get it ready." She says, throwing her long red hair behind her shoulder.
"Thank you, Marie," Danny tells her, and Jason is even more surprised.
"How do you know her name?" Because Jason had checked. She wasn't wearing a nametag.
Danny looks up at him with far more confusion than before. At once, the outline of his body flickers in and out of sight. Jason's heart almost drops to his knees because, for a second, Danny actually vanishes from sight. "Dude, we've been here so many times before; it would be rude to know not her name at this point. Are you sure you are okay, Jay? Was your last night shift too rough? We can go home if you not feeling well."
"Yeah, no, I'm fine. I just think she's hot so I can't think straight around her," Jason blurts, wanting Danny to stop thinking about it before he is erased right in front of him.
There is a short gasp to his right, and with absolute dread, Jason turns to find Marie standing there, clearly having heard what he said.
No. Danny presses a hand to his mouth, not doing the best of jobs hiding his laughter.
Jason wants to melt onto the floor and die as she shyly informs them the booth is ready. She leads them over to a room with costumes tucked in the corner. A large camera is set up pointing to a lovely blue backdrop and various lights.
She tells them there are more backdrops on the racks, which they can change. She recommends numbers seven and nineteen since they were of old castle gardens, which would work best for Danny's vision of Pride and Prejudice.
The camera was set to send her the photos, and she would develop them when they were done with their resume walkthrough. If they wanted a different era, Marie could always come back and replace the costumes with something fitting.
The Gotham Museum had clothes from various periods that matched their exhibits. Jason is shocked to find they used Bruce's donation money for good use.
Danny is happily flipping through the coat rack, as Marie politely but obviously runs out of the room as fast as possible.
Ouch.
"We should re-do the same posses," Danny chirps, flipping through his phone until he finds a picture of him in a pirate costume, with one leg pressed on the small bench and raising a sword above his head. Next to him, Jason is seen sitting on the ground, one knee prompt up.
He was also wearing a pirate costume and holding a parrot on the tip of his finger resting over his knee.
Jason does not remember taking this photo, but it's clear as day that it's him smirking at the camera from two years ago. That should have been right around the time he first started to calm down from his Pit Madness.
Had he really brought Danny around here since then?
"Sure, kid." Jason cracked, swinging on a nicely done light blue gentlemen's coat that he could easily see Mr. Bingley. "We can react it."
Danny beamed.
They took a few photos, changing into almost all the outfits, because he can admit that he did have a bit of fun doing that before they decided to check out the rest of the museum.
Danny seemed to stop ever so often to ask why something had moved or where something had gone, and Jason needed to quickly distract him. He finds out that Danny may not be the only one erased, for the three Wayne sisters are missing, a giant battle between the British and the townspeople back during the colony days is gone, and the Wayne Manor light post legend is nowhere to be found.
Danny is devastated that they took down the light post, so Jason is quick to ask him to retell the tale. He makes a mental promise to have Bruce throw enough money at the museum to get it back up.
"Legend has it that the old head of the house, "Mad" Anthony Wayne, had fallen in love with a girl far below his family station. Without the approval of their parents, the two lovers were not allowed to wed. But he wasn't known as Mad for nothing." Danny chirps around his oxygen. He needed a moment to rest, so the two sat down and had something to snack on at the Museum's Cafe.
"He hatched a plan where they would meet at the far light post at the edge of the Wayne property every night to be together with only the stars as witnesses. Anothony would slowly pass along to her some wealth of the family that he smuggled out so the two could go and start new lives together. One night, while waiting for his beloved, Anothiny heard a scream from the swamp and raced over, but he was too late. He saw his love being dragged into the waters by something covered in scales and killing her. Some say it was alligators, while others claim it was a monster that roams the earth today. Devastated, Anothony would later marry the wife he had picked up for him by his parents. They say his love still waits under that light post, and if you see her, then she will either bless your love or try to kill you."
Jason blinks. "What makes her choose to bless you?"
"Only true lovers can be blessed. People would go over to our post to test their loves." Danny shrugs. "I wouldn't tempt an obviously violent ghost like that, but that's just me."
The older man nodded, thinking it was a fair thing to say and wondering if he had ever passed by the apparent light post from the myth.
He just forgot about it when the timeline changed.....or she never died thus making it a regular light post. How can he be sure he was missing something if he never knew it was gone?
Ugh, time travel gave him a headache.
"You should ask Marie to go stand under it with you," Danny grins, wiggling his eyebrows.
Jason sighs. "She's not even interested."
"Sure she is! Look, I'll prove it." Danny swung himself from his chair and marched to the greeting counter. Much to Jason's horror, his baby brother chats with her, twisting around to point at Jason and watching Marie's face turn bright red.
Jason grabs a menu and hides behind it mentally, telling himself this would be the last time he ever stepped foot in this museum again. Danny races back, clutching a piece of paper with a phone number. "She told me to tell you to call her,"
Jason's jaw drops. "What?"
"Here," Danny pressed the paper in his hand, and on it was a number with a heart. "She said she was tired of waiting for you to make a first move. You're welcome."
"How did you do this?"
"Please, if I could get Kori to give Dick a chance, I can get anyone to agree on a date." Danny boasted, puffing up his chest in pride. You can call me Cupid Wayne! I mean, how else do you think Cass and Steph got together? "
Jason wondered what else he had forgotten about Danny. Mystified, he wondered if Cass or Steph knew they were dating. Apparently, Danny had gotten them together, and he hadn't seen them act couple-ly since they found Danny making himself a sandwich.
Somewhere, Cass screams as Damian tells her the plan his brother hatched to help her with her crush. This was not the deal, boy! This was supposed to be funny!
Cass ain't laugh!
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#Demon and Angel Brat#Part 3#Danny is messing with Jason#The photo is photoshop#Marie knows of Jason since Danny was talking him up long before dragging Jason there#Danny is making up legends of the Waynes#Cass being dragged itno things is not cool#Damian thinks this is hilarious
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A lovely continuation commission from @valacre. You love your husband Nightmare as he is - but there's a lot more to him than what is now, isn't there?
---
The record player moved on to the next song. Your recognition of the song roused you, faintly, from your almost-sleep... a familiar, emotive, reflective piano piece. You didn’t open your eyes just yet; you could feel a small smile forming on your lips.
He’s playing Debussy? He must be in a good mood.
You were holding Nightmare’s hand up against your face tonight, tucked up to your ears under the covers, cheek pressed stubbornly to the top of his palm. You spent many nights falling asleep this way. Nightmare didn’t need to sleep, it was a luxury he could indulge in if he felt inclined, but he often chose instead to bring his books and quills to bed with him (propped against his knees) and use the precious quiet hours to read and write. You would fall asleep tucked up to his side... most often with one of his hands commandeered by your own, as your just payment for not receiving your usual embrace from him.
You didn’t mind this arrangement. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. There was something about him being awake that made your sleep so deep, so restful - you felt so safe. He could watch over you, right? It was as if knowing he was awake for you made all your anxieties melt away. He would sometimes play music to fill the silence, and the tunes would lull you into comfortable and romantic dreams.
You very minutely nuzzled his hand as the song drew to a close. After a few beats of silence, the record player skipped on. You didn’t recognise this one, but it was distinctly Debussy again... you couldn’t help but open your eyes.
...
The hand you were holding was white.
You gasped, a loud and sharp breath - you snatched your hand away and sat bolt upright in bed. The blanket tumbled off you.
Again?!
Your vision focused.
... Nightmare, despite the look of startlement and concern on his face, appeared completely normal. His bones were black, faintly iridescent and glistening as they always were; his eyelight’s cyan light was bright and comforting. Handsome as ever, too.
“what is it?” he asked, gently, putting his quill down. “bad dream?”
... You didn’t know what to say. Let alone how to say it. After searching his face for anything unfamiliar, and finding nothing but the man you loved, you gradually lowered yourself back down into bed. You tried to breathe slowly, calming from the sudden bout of panic you’d caused yourself. Your heart was beating much too hard.
“I... Yes. I’m alright.” You definitely didn’t sound alright. You bought the covers back up over your shoulders.
His face shifted. His voice was soft, as was his gaze, you could tell he was being careful to keep his tone non-confrontational.
He slowly closed his book. “no you aren’t.”
You shifted uncomfortably at the twinge in his tone. Nightmare, a man who could taste lies, obviously didn’t like being lied to. Even small ones.
“I’m sorry. I... don’t really know what’s wrong.”
You stared at some of the fine stitching around the edges of the pillow. You were struggling to get comfortable again, your whole body still tense. This wasn’t the first time your mind had supplied you with images of a skeleton you didn’t recognise.
Lately, you’d been having the most intense, vivid, immensely strange dreams. You never fully recalled them when you awoke, but certain aspects would remain in your head like the afterimage of a powerful flash. Symbols of the moon, silver, flickers of purple. The warmth that comes from drinking herbal tea. Laughter, the smell of fire, a tree stump.
... Then the skeleton himself, the subject of your confusion. Tall and elegant, clad in faded silks, with a kind smile but the aura of something that grown accustomed to unspeakable grief. Soft lilac eyelights that were deep and overflowing with power. You couldn’t remember his face; you could, however, remember that his expression was warm. A smile that made your chest ache. He would look at you as if he owed you a great debt; no matter how much you called out he wouldn’t come any closer. He would open his mouth, but there would be only silence, like he was behind a thick wall of water.
You would’ve ignored the dreams. Were they not so vivid - and so recurring. You felt as if something was quietly watching you. But what? And how could you possibly reply, if you couldn’t even remember what happened?
... You were broken out of the memory by Nightmare moving. His tentacles picked up his book, pen and ink, placing them on the bedside table; as he did, he shuffled to lay down beside you. He drew you against him. Perhaps he could tell that whatever was wrong, it needed more than words.
You gratefully accepted the embrace. Your cheek tucked against his collarbone, his arm and a tentacle looped over your middle. When his huge arms were around you, you felt so safe, you knew heads would roll before he allowed anything in the world to touch you.
“better?” he murmured.
You were choked up. You didn’t know why. “Mhm.”
“you know you can tell me anything.”
“Of course. I just need to find the words to tell you, first.”
“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t push. i’m one to talk about not telling the whole truth, hm?”
You couldn’t help but giggle. He clearly liked that... against his chest, you could hear his Soul faintly humming. Probably by instinct, a second tentacle tucked over you, this time curling around your legs.
The record player moved on to the next song. His claws were gently moving in your hair, wrapping a specific curl around his phalange and letting it go over and over again. He’d always been enamoured with how it looked when it was down; it was a sight he was only privy to in moments like these, with the covers pulled up over both of you and the dark of night filling the bedroom.
Your voice broke the comfortable silence once you recognised the song playing. You weren’t laughing at him, but you were laughing, just a little. “More Debussy? Someone’s feeling romantic.”
He sounded like he was smiling. “indulge me,”
“I think it would be nice to learn how to play this one.” It felt good to talk about something else.
“it’s not as hard as you’d expect.”
...
You did look up at him this time, surprised, fabric rustling as you tilted your head up. “You play piano?”
“mhm.” His eye was wide and fuzzy, nigh filling up his entire socket, looking down at you with an immense softness. His hand moved to cup your face, massive palm to your cheek, claws curling around the back of your head. “it’s been a while. but i’m sure i could shake off the rust.”
“I didn’t know you knew how.”
“honestly, dear?” He hummed. “until this moment, i had forgotten i could.”
“You always struck me as more of a string player. Violin, perhaps. Or cello.”
“ah... violin, i never particularly fell in love with. but i am fond of the cello.” His voice was so satin-like, if you closed your eyes you could almost feel it caressing you. “i’ve picked up a fair few instruments, in my time. do you play?”
You rested your cheek back against his collarbone. Just how many instruments did he know? He was something of royalty, wasn’t he? Perhaps his childhood had involved a prince’s education. He would’ve seen a fair few beautiful and expensive instruments. His hand traced over your shoulder and down your spine, lovingly and almost reverently, settling to the small of your back. Despite all your time together, Nightmare still touched you like he couldn’t believe his luck.
“I floundered at piano as a child. My teacher always told me I was too airheaded to be any good.”
“she sounds unpleasant.”
“Mh... she wasn’t all wrong.” You thought back to the woman that had frightened you so much as a child. “I didn’t make her life very easy; I never practised, I was always busy playing gardener. She would scold me for coming to practise with dirt under my fingernails. Maybe if I’d concentrated, I would’ve been better.”
“well, it doesn’t matter now.” He turned his face slightly, and kissed the top of your head. “i didn’t marry you for your musical talent.”
“That may be true. But you didn’t marry me for great reasons at first, either.”
“my reasoning was questionable at the time, yes. i had no idea how to process what i was feeling.” His grin was audible once again. “but it would be a bald-faced lie to say i regret it. i’ll never regret making sure you were all mine.”
You rolled your eyes. “Aren’t you the romantic?”
He chuckled. You didn’t realise how much the short conversation had soothed you. Perhaps that was his plan. You were getting sleepier and sleepier, forgetting entirely what had startled you.
“I like these songs.” Your eyelids were drooping. “You have good taste in music.”
“music was... the only thing dream and i ever agreed on.”
... You stilled. Had... had he ever volunteered information about his brother before? Outside of when the spectre of the topic was already looming over both of you?
...
“... You should play me something, tomorrow.”
“anything for you.”
///---///
Nightmare waited until you were asleep to stop petting your hair. He only relaxed once the expression completely melted from your face. Instead, he just let his claws rest beside your head, his eyelight wandering over your features. Doing its best to memorise every curve.
He could never quite draw your smile right. The rest of you, he could create from memory, his claws knew the shape of your body well - your cheek and the arch of your brow, the little dip where your neck and shoulders met, the soft skin of your stomach and back... when he indulged himself in drawing you, those were the parts he could recreate with the effortlessness of total familiarity. The locked box in his study had more than its fair share of proof.
But your smile? He just couldn’t get it. No matter how badly he wanted to. Perhaps it just wasn’t something that could be contained. Perhaps there was a lesson there, for him, in the thing he loved most being the one thing he couldn’t capture forever.
... Alas. He knew he would keep trying, anyway. He was nothing if not greedy.
He kissed your knuckles. He would apologise again in the morning. It was unkind of him to pick you up on not telling the truth - especially when you were so incredibly patient with his endless lies by omission.
He wasn’t telling you everything about his dreams, either.
He’d grown so comfortable around you that many nights, when you slept, his mind would unconsciously reach out and connect to yours - his Soul seemed to see you as an extension of himself, so it would naturally draw you closer. Usually that meant nothing more than moving far more easily into your dreams.
... But recently, something very strange had been happening.
He would feel you in his mind.
It was the first time someone had ever entered his dream. It was much more pleasant than he imagined, though that was probably because it was you. So physically close to him, and so emotionally close, for you moving into his dream would be as easy as passing through a veil. He wouldn’t even notice you were there; not until he felt your presence in places and thoughts he hadn’t let himself access for years.
Something within him was... well, he didn’t know. Moving, perhaps? Shifting. He didn't like it. Whatever it was, it made him stop to consider, for the first time in a long time, what he really... was.
He wasn’t his old self. He knew that for sure. He wasn’t Night, but he wasn’t purely Corruption either. Unlike what his brother constantly insisted, Nightmare wasn’t some poor innocent skeleton trapped by a cartoonishly evil Corruption - his lip curled at the thought. Dream’s blind belief was as insulting as it was patronising. Nightmare knew what he was doing, he was the master of his destiny. Nightmare was something new, something different. A combination that was stronger than either entity could’ve been alone. He was better.
... He touched your face again, absentmindedly.
Both parts of him liked you. There was no question about that. The Corruption adored you, but it loved in an ancient and consuming way - it wanted you with them forever, a bird in a cage. The Corruption whispered longingly about how, if only they moved with more conviction, nobody but him would ever see or touch you again. Was he allured by that? Yes. But Night knew that love like consumption would eat you alive. It was the lingering presence of his old mind, the moderation and empathy of his old self, that gave Nightmare the tools to love you in a way that would make you happy.
He sighed. Both parts of him loved you... that was the problem. The lines were blurring.
... He could feel himself changing. Something old, rising to the surface. It was troubling. When the Corruption first took over, Night all but became comatose, healing from the damage done to him. As promised, the Corruption protected him. And even once Night did recover, he had absolutely no desire to return to full control, not after what he’d been through. He was afraid... remaining deep inside, protected from a world he saw as universally cruel. Protected by a wall of viscous black darkness.
Then you came along. Walls that he had spent centuries building, crumbling down from just a glance. Were he not so hopelessly in love, he might’ve considered his own behaviour rather pathetic.
He wasn’t sure what to do about it just yet. He pressed his nasal cavity against your hair. He would think about it more in the morning. For now, he just wanted to do the thing he enjoyed most; holding you and forgetting absolutely everything.
Sometimes, when he slept with you in his arms, he felt like there was nothing in the world to be afraid of.
///---///
Nothing felt off, when you woke up. You stretched your toes, hummed... with light peeking through the curtains, you decided to roll over and see if your husband was awake.
The skeleton facing you wasn’t Nightmare.
When you saw white bones again, the first thing you did was freeze. Your breathing stopped, you stared blankly - the skeleton asleep opposite you appeared startlingly like Dream. The same cheekbones, the same jaw, the same soft expression. But there were differences both minute and glaring. Dream’s face had a brightness and sharpness to it. This skeleton looked softer.
... And when blinking a few times didn’t make him go back to normal, you leapt out of bed.
His sockets opened. Purple.
Instantly, seemingly before he’d even realised you’d jumped away, he jolted, and a look of fear appeared on his face. He sat bolt upright in the bed, lifting up his hands to his face - the sight of his own bones made that look only worsen into one of outright panic, purple eyelights shrinking down into quivering dark pinpricks, deep lines of fear cutting between his brows and around his nasal cavity. He staggered out of bed...
... And over to the mirror.
It took a split second for him to look upon his face. You could see him, reflected over his own shoulder back at you. You watched as he took only a split second to see his own terrified profile staring back at him.
You had never seen so much fear strike face before.
A flash within his sockets, like an amethyst turning in the light. He reared back and punched the mirror, shattering it, the force carrying through and visibly fracturing the wall beneath. You let out a tiny yelp as glittering shards showered the bedroom floor - you moved back mostly out of confusion, but also no small amount of fear, until your tailbone bumped Nightmare’s desk. Pieces of the mirror were still peeling off the frame and dropping to the stone tiles even as the stranger put his hands over his face, stumbling to the side until he hit the wall.
“no. no,” he slid slowly down it, surrounded by shards of mirror. “no, no, no, no...”
...
You could scarcely believe it. But you knew that voice. You knew those movements. As you stared across the room at the ‘stranger’, instincts kicked in. Despite your utter disbelief, the word left your lips anyway.
“N... Nightmare?”
He lifted his face from his hands, staring at you. You gasped, quietly; yes, there he was, it couldn’t be anyone else but him. No wonder you thought he resembled Dream, the layers of tar had vanished but everything you had kissed a hundred times before was still there.
“val,” he breathed. The way he looked at you - confused, but pleading for help - you knew it was him. It couldn’t have been anyone else.
You rushed back across the room, over to him, to his side. You didn’t care about the glass. It was so, so bizarre to see him with both sockets, your eyes darted back and forth, unsure of where to look. You knelt before him; he was back to staring with horror at his violently shaking hands.
“what’s happening to me?” His voice was different, too. It didn’t have its usual commanding weight and depth. It was still distinctly him, but it felt as if his voice had been halved somehow. Gentler, higher, closer to the surface. “why... no, no, i can’t be...”
“Shh, shh.” You didn’t know if he wanted to be touched or not, so your hands hovered around his shoulders. Now that you knew it was him, you weren’t frightened anymore. You did your best to keep your own voice calm. “You’re alright. Nightmare, you’re alright.”
The lilac of his eyelights was such a beautiful, gentle colour. Though it was soft, and clearly suited his features, you were so accustomed to comforting cyan that you were unsure of what to make of it.
He was shaking all over. His voice cracked when he talked. “i don’t know what’s going on,”
“We don’t need to know what’s going on.” The more you gently spoke, the more he appeared to ease, his hands gradually coming away from his face. His eyelights, locked onto you, weren't quite so small. “We’re both fine. Take deep breaths, okay?”
You reached out, placing a hand on his cheekbone. It felt different. Smoother. But that was the extent of the differences, your hand still fit against his face like a puzzle piece.
He sucked in a sharp breath. For a moment you feared you had hurt him - were his bones sensitive like this? - you made to pull away. But Nightmare grabbed your hand with his, pressing it tight to his cheekbone.
“i-i...” He wasn’t looking at you. He was looking into the middle distance, a lost expression on his new face. Through you.
“Night?”
“i-i never thought i’d be able to...” He sounded choked. “like this...”
... His sockets... filled up with tears. They were lilac too. Shimmering like gems as his eyelights reflected in them.
Instinctively, you placed your other hand on his other cheek. He gripped that one and held it to him just as tightly, his skull sandwiched between your palms. He took in a deep, shuddering breath...
... And then openly started to weep.
You were shocked. Completely shocked. His chest fluttered, the sound was small but deafening. How many times had Nightmare cried around you? Once, for certain, perhaps twice if you were generous and counted the time you suspected he cried but had not seen tears. And even when he did cry, he always hid his face like he was ashamed, tucking into your shoulder or turning away.
But here he was. Tears moving down his cheekbones. Shaking, right in front of you; clutching your hands and sobbing.
Well. You didn’t need to pause much longer. You leant in, using your hold on his face to press a kiss to his skull. He let go of your hands and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in, with you kneeling between his legs it was a slightly awkward posture but neither of you really had it in you to care. You just held him.
He smelled the same. Like home.
Not long passed, he had always been adept at self-control. By the time you were getting used to the sound of his soft cries, they were already fading, replaced with the deep slow breaths he took to regain himself. Though the sounds ebbed away, the tears continued to run down his face like the tide.
... You had absolutely no idea what was going on. But at least he was alright. You leaned back, using your thumb to wipe at his cheekbone. He leaned into your touch.
...
... Suddenly, he gasped. It made you jump. He looked down to the floor - “the mirror. your feet,”
Before you could do more than open your mouth, his arms moved around you, he stood; you were lifted clean off the floor. Even missing half his mass, he was still so strong. As easily as ever, he carried you to the bed, sitting you down and quickly kneeling - despite the tears still visibly staining his cheekbones he only had worry for you scrawled across his face. He took one of your feet in his hands, checking for cuts, for blood, for damage.
The care in his eyelights... you couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to recognise him.
... You had completely forgotten about the shards of glass on the floor. Now that you followed his gaze down, you could see little pinpricks of red, staining the white of the nightgown around your knees. “O-oh,” was all you managed to say.
He didn’t respond. He just obsessively checked you for injuries. His hands felt... more textured than usual? Like a once-smooth stone was now mottled and aged. He moved up to your knees, lifting the hem of the nightgown over them, looking with that telltale frown on his face. He couldn’t have looked more like his old self, with that grimace.
He exhaled, slowly. “... okay. you’re fine. by some miracle, your feet missed everything.”
“And my knees?”
“just some small cuts.” He carefully pulled the hem back down. “the nightgown must’ve stopped anything from embedding. they’ll heal fine.”
He let his hands linger on your legs, staring into empty space again the moment he seemed to slip. He still looked troubled. Troubled - but not panicking anymore.
...
“Nightmare.” You spoke eventually. “You know I don’t usually ask you personal questions.”
Despite his clearly fraught state, cheekbones stained by tears, a little laugh broke out of him when he looked back up at you. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit too.
“i-i know, i know. i think i have some explaining to do, don’t i?”
You reached out your arm - without a single word needing to be spoken, he took your hand and placed it against his cheekbone again. He sighed.
“You’re the skeleton I was dreaming about.”
“i never thought this would happen. i never thought i would be like this again.”
“Again?”
...
He (clearly somewhat reluctantly) let go of your hand, standing, slowly shuffling to sit beside you on the bed. He appeared unsteady on his feet. The light from the window was catching in the shards of mirror on the floor, casting tiny freckles of light across his face; he looked... remarkably handsome. He always did, of course, but especially so like this. You felt your chest get a little tight.
“it is how i used to look. this is how i used to be.”
You tilted your head. You took in everything, eyelights, teeth, mouth. You thought about what the Nightmare you knew looked like - the collapsed socket, the dripping smile, the tentacles. The viscous black fluid covering him from head to toe.
“That’s... quite the transformation,” you murmured.
He nodded. “indeed. i used to be a different person. more like dream. but that person... entered a contract with another entity. the two of them combined, and became the person you know.”
“Hm.”
“perhaps symbiosis is a better term. nightmare was attacked by people who didn’t understand the role he played. they saw dream and nightmare, ‘good’ and ‘evil’, and placed blame on the latter for everything wrong with their lives.” He spoke about the event as if it had all occurred to someone else entirely. As if he thought nothing of it; as if he was fine. “nightmare gave his body, and the corruption gave its power. that was the deal that created me. a place to be powerful, and in return, the power to never be hurt again.”
“Corruption?” You were immediately concerned. "Nightmare,"
... He looked at you. His face was loving, he looked amused. It was nice to see a more positive emotion on him. “that’s just its name, dear.”
“That doesn’t sound like a very trustworthy name.”
“you’re married to a man called nightmare.”
“I,” ... you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Alright, touché.”
He chuckled. He sounded so much younger. Stars, it was strange to see him this way; like a loved one coming home after shaving off all their hair or losing a vast amount of weight. Though you logically knew it was him, and you could see him so clearly within all the mannerisms of the skeleton in front of you, there was something so jarring about expecting your Nightmare and seeing another’s face staring back at you.
“I think I understand somewhat. Are you... the ‘past’ version of you right now, then?”
“... i... no.” He shook his head. “i’m still me. i can still feel everything. but the corruption has... receded. it’s been at the front for so long. it’s never done this before. i don’t know what to do.”
“Do you think you’ll turn back again soon?”
...
His eyelights widened, ever so slightly. Faint wisps of violet coloured the high edges of his cheekbones.
“you don’t prefer this form?”
You flustered - how could you say something like that? Especially when he was clearly so upset by his transformation. He smashes a mirror in front of you, and you openly express you prefer his previous body to this one? “I-I don’t mean I don’t like you like this! Of course I do,”
“darling,” he took your hand and squeezed it, cutting off your blabbering. “i like my other body more, too.”
“Y-you do?”
Smiles suited him far more. “mhm. i’m not as strong, this way. and the absence of my tentacles is noticeable. i keep wanting to hold more of you, but i simply don’t have the dexterity.”
“I just...” You exhaled, slowly, eyes trailing over his sockets and nasal ridge and jaw. “Honestly, I really miss your normal face.”
“... normal,” he hummed. It was a pleased hum.
“Well - it’s alright. Regardless of what body you’re in, you’re very handsome.”
His smile sharpened. All of a sudden, he looked like a preened bird. It was hard work not to roll your eyes; all that crying, all that vulnerability and fear, but it was clear from that grin that this was very much the same man that you had gone to bed with hours before.
“hmm. so i’m handsome to you either way? i like this conversation very much.”
“Oh you would, wouldn’t you?”
“i think i understand now.”
The sudden softness of his voice caught you off guard. You leaned back a little, to gauge his expression. He was smiling at you so fondly now.
“the deal i made. nightmare... the corruption promised no one would ever hurt him again. i wonder if...”
“... If?”
“i wonder if, for the first time since making the deal... i fear nothing.”
... You couldn’t honestly imagine Nightmare fearing anything. You had yet to meet anyone who considered your husband an equal, let alone an inferior; even Dream, his own brother, had left at the first sign of fury. Entities who caused no small amount of strife, like Killer, begged you to assure them that Nightmare wouldn’t kill them.
Then again. How much pain would someone have to go through, to become that vicious to the world around them?
You leant toward him. He immediately reciprocated the movement, touching his forehead against yours. He sighed.
“touching you, in this form... it’s...”
He trailed off. You didn’t make him finish. “You feel so different. So similar, too. It’s a little jarring.”
“i’m glad you prefer me as i am.”
“Of course I do. I married you.”
He snickered. “despite all the flaws?”
“Not despite.” It was your turn to comfortingly brush your thumb over the top of his palm. “Not despite, at all.”
“... you truly prefer my ‘normal’ form?” he asked, “even though this one is so much... cleaner?”
“You’re the one who can taste lies. You tell me.”
He chuckled. His sockets closed.
“i want to stay like this. for a while.”
“As long as you need.” You closed your eyes, too. Now that the adrenaline of the situation had settled, you could feel your sleepiness catching up with you.
“... i love you.”
“I love you too.”
...
You felt the cyan-blue light on your eyelids long before you opened them.
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Another celebration ficlet. The ask for this one somehow got deleted from the inbox, but I know it was sent by @weirdandabsurd42 - hope you enjoy! 🥰
On being seen
Rated: T
Words: 990
Tags: Post-Vecna; Injury; Hospitals; Hair loss; Referenced parental death; Hurt/comfort; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Pre-Steddie
“Brought you these,” Dustin says, stacking some books on the bedside table. Eddie spots The Hobbit at the top of the pile. “They’re mine, but you can keep them until …”
“Until what?” Eddie asks. His voice is a thin rasp, grating on shredded vocal cords. “Until they unearth my home from that interdimensional sinkhole? Fat fucking chance, huh?”
Dustin swallows, hiding his face under his cap. Guilt churns in Eddie’s gut like acid. His left hand - the one that’s not hooked to the beeping machines - flies up to fiddle with his hair, only to come up blank.
Oh, right. They cut it off during the surgery. It’s gone, just like half his face and jaw.
“You should go,” he says. “s getting dark and your mom will want you home.”
Dustin looks up, eyes bright. “But-”
Eddie shakes his head as well as the bandages will let him. “C’mon, I need my beauty sleep. I promise I won’t go anywhere.”
Dustin hesitates and Eddie’s afraid he’ll start to argue, or worse, plead. But then, the kid sighs, rising from his chair.
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
Eddie raises his hand for a wave, pausing when he catches sight of his bare fingers.
“Henderson?”
Dustin turns in the door, face gaunt in the sterile light of the hospital corridor.
“You haven't heard about…?”
Eddie wiggles his hand. Dustin’s expression morphs into one of regret.
“Sorry,” he says. “I asked the nurses, but there were so many emergencies. Maybe they got thrown in the trash or something.”
Eddie nods. Tries to tug at his hair again. “Yeah. Okay.”
Dustin shuffles uncomfortably. “Listen, I could-”
“I said it's okay, Henderson. Good night.”
Dustin sighs. “Night, Eddie.”
The beeping of the machines follows Eddie into his dreams, where it turns into the shrieks of the swarm.
*
When he startles awake, it's dark outside his window.
There's a figure in the chair beside his bed, backlit by the heart monitor.
“Fuck, Henderson,” Eddie groans. “I told you to go home.”
The figure jerks upright with a snort.
“Shit,” it mumbles. “Sorry, ‘m awake.”
It’s not Dustin.
Eddie freezes, terror sinking into his every limb like lead. The noise of the machines drowns under the roar of his own blood in his ears.
“Hey,” says the figure, voice low and soothing, and he realizes a bit belatedly that he made a sound - a raw, terrified thing, like a trapped animal. “Hey, it’s okay. Eddie, it’s me. It’s Steve.”
A hand reaches for his. It’s warm and strong and so much bigger than his own. He jerks away so violently he almost pulls the iv-cord from his arm.
“No,” he rasps. “Don’t touch me. Get away from me.”
Steve flinches, hand falling limply into his own lap. Eddie can’t see his expression in the dark. Doesn’t want to see. Doesn’t want Steve to see him, not like this. Hurt and bare and small with nothing left to hide behind.
Neither of them speaks or moves for a while, the slowly calming heart monitor the only sound in the room.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says at length. “I just … I’ll go. Just wanted to give these back.”
He rummages for something in his pocket, then holds out his open palm - carefully, like an offering. Eddie’s breath catches in his ruined throat.
“Where’d you find these?”
“Um,” Steve shuffles in his seat. “Saw them lying on the nurse’s desk the other day. Sorry I didn’t return them sooner, things have been sorta crazy out there.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just snatches the rings. He attempts to slip them on, but he can’t use his right hand, and his fingers haven't stopped trembling since he first woke up. Nerve damage, the doctors said. He fumbles and drops the rings, but Steve is there to scoop them up before they can fall to the ground.
“Here, let me.”
Eddie watches, frozen in place, heart in his throat, as Steve slips the rings onto the fingers of his left hand. Cross on the index finger, boar in the middle, skull on his ring finger. His breath tickles the skin of Eddie’s wrist.
“This one's special, right?”
Eddie blinks out of his stupor. Steve has taken a hold of his right hand, infinitely careful to not disturb the needles and cords, and slipped the last ring back on. The delicate one with the dark, oval stone.
Eddie nods. His voice won't obey him, but this time, it has nothing to do with his injuries.
“My mom's.”
Steve hums in understanding, and Eddie knows he doesn’t need to say more.
“Tell me about her?”
Not a request. An offer. Eddie squints at Steve’s shadowy face as he settles back in his chair.
“Why?”
Steve shrugs. “You’re one of us. I’d like to know more about you.”
Eddie can’t help it, he needs to laugh. It burns in his throat and sends tears to his eyes. He tries to tug a strand of hair in front of his face to hide them and grasps only at thin air.
“Not sure what to tell you, big boy. Not a whole lot left of me, is there?”
“You’re brave and kind and tough,” Steve says, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry. “You’re great with the kids, and an amazing musician, and you were willing to die for a town that hates your guts. I think that’s a whole lot. The outside stuff will come back.”
Some of it already has, Eddie thinks, fingertips rubbing against the familiar shape of his rings.
“Her name was Elizabeth,” he says. “She died when I was seven.”
Steve listens for a long while, not interrupting once. He doesn’t switch on the light. He doesn’t need to, Eddie thinks. He feels more seen than he has in a long while, sitting here in the dark, allowing Steve to get to know him.
Somehow, it isn’t as scary as he thought it would be.
More celebration ficlets
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie brainrot#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#hype's 1k follower ficlets
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𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗦, 𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗨𝗣. //𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎.
choso x stalker!reader
She was obsessed with her cute neighbour, so she always made excuses to enter his house. He knew it, and still let her in.
14k words.
Tw: creepy things stalkers do, mentions of locking people in, obsession. There's no +18 scenes, only a few heated kisses.
'Choso Kamo.'
That's the name of one of your computer's documents. It was the last among the rest of the files, locked with a password and completely secured.
Why, you may ask?
Well, let's put it like this. Everyone has a favorite thing, don't they? Kids have a favorite ice cream flavour, teenagers have a favorite TV show they always watch no matter what, adults have their favorite company to make deals with... Well, you had a favorite too. It was Choso Kamo, your adorable neighbour who moved in next to your house not so long ago.
He was your favorite person, your favorite hobby.
Collecting photos of him was something creepy and you felt bad for it at first, but he looked so cute playing with his cats in them that you started to enjoy having little albums in your carpet about him. You even dedicated a whole schedule to the man; writing down when he worked out, whenever he ate, when he started drawing as he usually did thrice a week..he was just so perfect, so made for you.
Yeah. If god exists, he made Choso just for you.
Fate has intertwined you two the moment he became your neighbour, you were so sure of that. Not only was he totally your type, you guys had a lot in common!
You two liked cats, you liked the same bands, you both liked the same food, enjoyed the same shows, read the same genres when it came to books..you even started to like crafting too when you first saw him working on something at his garden! Yes, the look on his eyes as he sawed the wood, the sweat on his forehead falling as he drove the screws and the exhausted breaths he left as he carried those heavy pieces into his house drove you head over heels, so now you like crafting too! Not because of the hobby itself, but because choso looked so good doing it that you may aswell like the days he crafts something.
Besides, it was tha reason you were working right now. A lemonade with a refreshing effect, that's what you were making for your hardworking neighbour. You added the perfect amount of ice that you knew he loved, pouring the liquid in a cute vase and heading to his home to pay him another visit.
Yeah, another visit.
You visited his house frequently, always having a excuse to do so. And somehow, he was kind enough to always let you enter! Now you both were in "friendly neighbour terms", but you wished to get even closer. Because you could pat his shoulder, but you wanted to hold his hand and because you could talk to him, but you craved to kiss him. Everything you desired was proximity, closeness, being able to call him withouth making any dumb excuse.
But that was something that required patience and insistence, just how you were being right now.
—Y/N? Is something the matter?
Ah, that sound got you out of your trance. You looked up, finding choso who just opened the door. He looked so damn good, and you melted just by the way his tired eyes focused on your figure.
—Not really. I could hear the saw from my house, so..
He scratched the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic smile.
—I figured you did, sorry. I'm crafting some furniture for my house.
You shook your head.
—No, no! It's okay, I understand. I knocked just to give you this, you looked...—Your eyes analyzed him, fighting the urge to drop any compliment. —..exhausted, and i thought you would enjoy this.
The black haired man looked at your hands only to see you offering him the vase of lemonade. He raised his eyebrows, his lips curved in what almost seemed like a cute smile for a second. He grabbed the vase you gave him.
—That's so thoughtful of you, thanks.
He smiled, you nodded.
—Want to come in so i can give you a drink in return?
That's what you were waiting for.
Choso was always so kind, letting you enter his house for food or games whenever you did something for him. That's his way of payment, since you knew he had issues with money and couldn't afford to pay you whenever you helped him change his lights, shelves or doors (he never asked for your help, however you somehow casually just happened to pass by whenever he was struggling with something like that). You always reassured him that it was fine, but he still insisted on having you over for dinner or lunch.
You smiled.
—Yeah, that would be nice.
He let you in, and you sat on his sofá while he brought something for you to drink. Minutes later he came, sat down next to you and gave you a cup of tea.
—Not as refreshing as the lemonade, but I promise it's good.
He handed it to you and you thanked him as a result. You gave it a sip and a surprised expression appeared on your face. He noticed that and asked:
—Is something wrong with the tea?
You instantly shook your head, resting the cup on your lap.
—Nothing at all! It's just, this is my favorite tea.
—It is? It's my favorite tea too.
He laughed at your reaction, as you smiled sweetly at him. To him, you were a cute girl he had for a neighbour that he could rely on when he needed help with his home or ask for help when it came to baking something for his little brother whenever he would visit and also a great companion he liked to have around since you were sweet and fun, but that's just his impression of you. He didn't know you were as awful as he was when it came to baking but mastered it just for him, he didn't know you found boring changing lightbulbs and only found fun the time spent with him and neither was he aware of the fact that you weren't giggling because you thought he was funny, but because you were so excited about having another thing in common with him.
The evening went great, you both laughed and updated eachother with gossip from your neighbourhood. You were making progress day by day, and you could feel It by the way he seemed more and more casual as the visits kept happening. He was growing more comfortable with you, and you were loving it! Choso talked to you about his brother Yuji, about how life working as an artist was and even showed you some photos —which you already saw, but now that he was the one showing them to you they looked even prettier—, he also asked about how to make Apple pies and more.
But that's not one of the main of reasons you came here for.
—Hey, Choso?
He hummed, taking a sip of his lemonade.
—Could I use the bathroom?
He looked at you, then pointed at the hall.
—The last door, the one on the right wall.
You already knew that, but thanked him anyways and went on your way there. You counted the Doors: one, two..then the third one. That's the one you're looking for.
Not because it was the bathroom, no.
Because it was his bedroom.
You entered the room, checking every corner you never saw through the window. He had a small computer on the desk, a few clothes on the floor, school items scattered all over the sheets of the bed such as a few pencils, notes, papers and more to be seen. Looking at the walls, you found several posters and pictures he made along with photos of him and his family: most of them were with yuji, his little brother, at places like a lake, his first day of kindergarten, at a sleepover...you found yourself smiling because of that, he was just so perfect. You had to capture this place, the place that held the most of his personality out of this home. Just a picture, only to visualize what kind of things he likes or what kind of furniture he's more fond of. You just needed a picture, something to have as a reference to analyze him, and it was as simple as clicking a single button of the mini polaroid you carried in your purse. However, as your hand reached for your purse to grab it...
—I think you're at the wrong bathroom, aren't you?
You froze.
Right behind you was Choso, the owner of the voice, leaning on the frame of the door while looking at you waiting for an answer. You weren't even facing him and you could already feel the grin on his face while he talked to you. Did he find out? Did he know the reason you entered his room? A lot of questions ran through your mind in a span of seconds. You tried to keep calm telling yourself things such as "no, how could he ever know? He wouldn't have let me in if he did" or "it's imposible for him to know I had a camera, since I didn't even get to grab it" and eventually, you had the courage to turn around to make visual contact with him and make up a lie.
—I'm sorry, got distracted in the way.
He kept quiet, letting you continue talking since he was not satisfied with your answer. You turn your gaze to the walls of the room, finding a lot of artpieces he made. You looked at him again, pointing at them with your eyes to let him know what you were going to refer to.
—I just wanted to see them up close. You showed me through photos, but i never thought they would be so...detailed. It's truly beautiful.
He seemed to be taken back by your answer.
—You think so?
—I really do. You're a great artist, Choso.
The black haired male looked like he bought your excuse. He looked actually touched by your lie and you obviously knew why; that's why you chose to lie with it in the first place. Choso was never validated as an artist, being always told that he could do so much better if he studied something like economy or science. Nobody really complimented his art withouth mentioning how it, as good as it is, should be kept as a hobby instead of dedicating his whole life to it because it just wouldn't really make a lot of money. He knew that, but still chose that life ignoring people's words. However, sometimes it was imposible to ignore it and he somehow became insecure when people gave his art compliments, since he didn't really know if they meant them or if they think the same as the rest.
And that's exactly what you knew that he was thinking right now.
—You're not going to say anything else?
He expected you to throw your advice now. He was expecting you to say something among the lines of "it's beautiful, but I personally wouldn't dedicate my whole career to it", waiting for something hurtful like it always happens. He waited and waited, and you finally talked.
—Yeah, I do.
He mentally sighed. Oh, he was a fool for believing that you could be different just because you were his friend. Choso ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs a little.
However, you proved him wrong.
—Since you draw so good, could you teach me one day? I really need it for this project at school, so i thought that maybe you...
You kept talking, but he stopped hearing whatever you were saying. Choso's expression suddenly stiffened, he gulped and his jaw tensed as you kept going on something he lost a few seconds ago. His eyes lit up with a complete different light, and he took a few steps towards you.
Noticing his silence and the way he walked to you, you grew worried. You did know that this was a sensible topic for him and already planned how his reaction would be, but this was not what you expected as he looked so intimidating while he slowly made his way towards you.
—I'm sorry, did I talk too much? Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, you don't have to actually say yes.
He grabbed you by the shoulders with such force you did not expect from him. Fuck, you messed up didn't you?
By the way he was looking at you, yes the hell you did.
That's the least you ever wanted, honestly. Choso hating you for touching some personal topic was the worst thing that could happen to you. You just complimented him, so why? He was frowing, his muscles tense, his body language indicated that he was nervous and his expression showed he was deep in thought. You wondered how did you even manage to get him like that, to get him to shift his personality like that. One minute he was touched by your words, now he was looking at you like you were something new to his eyes.
And you were, he just wasn't showing it how he should've.
Why? Because he never received this type of trait from someone. Something as simple as that, he never experienced it even though he craved for it for so long.
—What are you doing?
He asks you, his tone demanding for an answer.
—What?
You answer, and there's seconds of plain silence until he talks again.
—To me.
That tone.
That soft tone and cracked voice as he whispered with such tenderness, urging you for an answer desperately.
Now you understood, looking up at him and figuring out his expression. His grip on you was not because he was angry, but because he didn't want you to run away from his question. His frown was not because he was angry at you, but because he was trying to figure himself out. His shaky hands and body language was not screaming at you to stop talking, but to keep doing so.
You finally broke him down.
It took you months worth of visits, weeks and weeks of effort to make this man finally see in you what you see in him. You relaxed.
—You finally see it, don't you?
Your hand traced his jawline softly, watching him close his eyes as he leans into your touch like a puppy. This was all you ever wished, to have him like this. If you knew it only took a few compliments, some deep talks about life the nights after you help him fix his garden and making him some food from time to time to make him finally look at you like this, you would have done it sooner. But once again patience is key, so you don't complain now that he opens his eyes and adverts his gaze towards you in such a delicate way.
—I do.
You grin.
—That's good.. that's good. How about you and I, having dinner at a restaurant tonight? Let's get to know eachother.
He hesitates at first but then nods, according to your words.
—Sounds like a good plan.
You already know everything about him, but the idea of having a date seemed so casual and so cute you couldn't help but cheer internally. How would it be? Would he dress and look handsome for tonight? Would you two share your first kiss then? Would he lend you his jacked if it's cold? God, you were so excited! He was just the perfect man, choso had everything you ever wanted and that's all that mattered. It's okay if it rains, choso will cover you from the water. Doesn't matter if your heels tire you, choso will carry you home. It's also okay if you don't like the food at the restaurant, choso will surely share his with you. He actually will, because you know everything about him when it comes to a relationship too. It only took creating a fake account and pretending to be some random girl to ask his exes how he was in a relationship. You had to be informed of what you would be getting into, of course!
They all agreed that the man in front of you was a true romantic, detail-oriented and above all very observant of his partner. Aside from that, the complaints that caused them to break up were each one different from the other. However, when it came to complaints or the reason they broke up, each was different so you didn't have anything to base yourself on.
But oh, you were rushing things again weren't you? You two didn't even have a first date, and you were already thinking about how you would be as a couple! You'll see when the time comes.
—Then, I'll leave and you come pick me up at 9. I'll look pretty for you, so look handsome for me.
He looked at you with certain surprise.
—You'll leave?
—Well, yes. You don't want me to look like this at the date, no?
You signaled to yourself, making him look at your simple dress and face with a casual makeup. You wished to look pretty and have an elaborated makeup to your date, and he seemed to catch up. Choso shook his head.
—That's what I thought. I'll see you at nine, then?
—Yeah.
Yet, his grip on your shoulders didn't cease. You gave him a few seconds to let you go, but he didn't.
—Choso?
He looked to the side, and a slight blush could be seen on his cheeks.
—I'm sorry, you don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable but..can I at least get a goodbye?
Oh, oh.
You were speechless for a second, did he just ask for you to kiss him that politely? Then you chuckled, making him look at you with an embarrassed expression. His grip on you disappeared, and he covered half of his face with his hand for you not to see the shame in his face.
—Nevermind, i'm taking things too far. I'll see you at nine.
He didn't even have the chance to run away from the situation when you grabbed the collar of his sweater and gently pulled on it to get him closer, giving him a little peck on the lips. Choso was the one to quickly pull away in surprise, but soon he realized what just happened and leaned back again for another one since he wasn't satisfied with that little taste. He grabbed cupped your cheek with one hand while his lips collided with yours in a way that you weren't even upset your first kiss isn't at the date. The feeling was almost as if they were giving you something that you have been longing for for a long time, something that you have only had the pleasure of imagining becomes a reality.
Then you pulled away, in need of air.
—That's enough for a goodbye, isn't it?
He looked at you in silence, panting as he catched his breath. Soon after, his lips were on yours again with more intensity than before, dancing a tango of emotions where the music increased with each gasp of air. Eventually his hand found the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and his tongue explored your mouth with a lot of ease. He seemed to have a lot of experience, while you were left trying to catch up on his rythm.
—Not enough. Five more minutes and you go, please.
He pleaded when you separated before kissing you again. You didn't even have time to say yes, but the way you reciprocated the kiss told him more than enough. Soon enough his other hand found your waist and guided you out of the room, through the hall. His bedroom had this huge window —which you were really thankful for, by the way. It always gave you such a good view of him when you were looking at him through your window—, and he didn't want anyone looking at you two since it was an easy thing to do, so he guided you through the hall to another room between heated kisses with your fingers tangled in his hair. You ended up with your back against the wall while Choso took some keys out of his pocket, opening the door while leaving a trail of light kisses on your neck.
It wasn't strange for him to have a key to a room, since it was a normal thing for people in your neighbourhood to do so since burglasses were quite common so they kept valuable things safe in a room. You guessed he was taking you there since it was a more private area, but you found yourself with a room. Not enough time was left for you when you were thrown on a bed, having choso on top of you while pinning one of your wrists above you. You looked at him, who stared back at you intensely.
—Choso, five minutes already passed..
The man looked at you for a few seconds more, like he was admiring you. He looked absolutely breathtaking, His hair was messy, his eyes half open, his breathing altered, and his lips stained with the lipstick you were wearing. You dreamed so many times of this moment, yet you also wished for the date to happen so you couldn't entertain this more.
—I'm sorry, I just can't help It.
He kisses you once again. A soft tender kiss is left in your lips.
—Now that I have you, i can't let you go.
Once again. This kiss seemed to have more emotion than the rest, and it felt like he was devouring you.
—I can't let you go.
And again. Now, the kiss feels desperate and feral, he was kissing you again and again as if he was an animal.
—I can't. You can't go.
You were getting worried about what he was saying, but when you tried to get your wrist out of his hand a metalic sound was heard. You pulled.
CLANK.
You tried to pull again.
CLANK.
—Choso?
You asked, confused.
His hands left your wrist, and then you saw.
You were chained up to the bed.
He got up from the bed, and you tried to do too. However, you failed and almost fell off the bed due to the force of the pull that the metal gave you in reaction to your quick attempt of getting on your feet. He stopped you from falling, sitting you on the bed once again.
—Shh.. it's okay, don't freak out.
—What do you mean don't freak out? Is this some time of kinky roleplay?!
You tried to pull on the chain with your free hand, but it was no use. He scratched the back of his neck nervous, making a face of disappointment.
—Yeah, I figured you wouldn't like this place at first but don't worry, you'll like it eventually. It's pretty, isn't it? Look.
He grabbed your face and forced you to look around, and you found the least thing you could ever expect from this man. How could you not notice this when you entered? There were pictures of you all over the walls, a map of the city and different dots connected on a cardboard. A lot of your pictures were also on a desk, alongside with little hearts drawn of them. There was a part of one of the walls that was completely covered in drawings of your face in different angles, of your body and you doing some of your hobbies. Anyone that looked at it would easily think you were his muse. A computer was opened on the desk that had different recordings of the outsides of your house, and you were sure all of those pendrives scattered near were just about the same thing.
—It looks creepy now, but I'll eventually clean it. You know, you weren't supposed to come here today..—He, still grabbing your face, made you look at him by raising your chin with the intention that you maintain eye contact with him.—I was still making cute furniture for you to enjoy this place..but then i saw it. I saw what you tried to do.
His free hand reached his pocket, taking out your mini polaroid that was supposed to be in your purse. When did he take it? Fuck, it probably was while you two were kissing.
—I saw that you, deep inside, were just as sick as I am. And i couldn't resist it.
Your jaw tensed, but you still talked.
—Why?
He grinned, and his voice came out in a whisper.
—Because i have been waiting for so, so long.
He smiled at your innocence. Did you really think you were being sly with that dirty, little secret of yours? No, Choso had his eye on you for longer than you did. He saw you at work once, then he grew obsessed with you even if you never noticed him. Seeing you at work was not enough, so he eventually bought a House next to yours as if fate wanted him to get closer to you, and noted how to catch your attention. He changed his whole personality into some shy, cute and fun but still serious with black cat aesthetic boy just because he knew it was your type, and even went as far as creating profiles on social media acting like his exs whenever you, with another account he managed to find, asked about how he was in a relationship. That account was simply "asking for a friend", but he knew better than that. He lied to you, telling you just what you wanted to hear about a perfect boy in a relationship and stupid reasons of the breakup each different from another so you wouldn't think he had any specific red flag.
God, you were so adorable that he could lock you up forever.
Except for the fact that he already was.
—No, you're another whole level of sick. You were so normal, we had a lot of things in common..
—But we do! Y/N, look at me.—he brushed a strand of hair off your face, smiling softly.—We have things in common. We're both so in love with eachother, it's okay..
—No, Choso. You were meant for me..
His smile faded.
—I still am.
—No you're not. You were fake.
You were conflicted. You were sick in the head, but he was just another whole level. While you were happy with having him by your side, keeping photos of him and observing the man, he was locking you in. You had absolutely no right to complain, because you were just a little bit less bad than he was even though you were still guilty.
You tried to fool him, and you ended up being fooled.
—You're in denial, Y/N. Everything I am now I will forever be if you like it, I built myself just for you!
He was growing more demanding by minute, his grip on your face increased and you couldn't open your mouth to reply.
—You liked cats, I like cats too. You like some bands? well guess what, i like them too! You like that damn tea?! I like it too even though it tastes like shit!
He kept screaming, trying to reason with you.
You bit your lip and slipped out of his grasp. He seemed upset at that, but eventually decided to let you be.
You were still too in shock to understand what he did for you, weren't you?
—Fine, do whatever you want..—He moved away from you, leaving you there still chained to the bed. —It's not like you'll be going anywhere soon.
He scoffed, and you felt such a rush of emotions going on at the same time. Every feeling that you may have accumulated towards him during all these months disappeared from your heart as if they were pieces of a puzzle. Each moment you grew excited because you were just about to visit him, each photo you took of him and hung on the wall while you daydreamed of the day you could take one together with him, each moment you replayed in your head every conversation with him again and again before going to sleep...it all vanished. The love you felt slowly turned into a darker feeling that extinguished it until it turned into a kind of repulsion, disgust. You knew that the day will come when you your karma will come for you for having gotten into such dangerous terrain, but you didn't expect it to be this way.
Specially for it to be this man.
The man you idealized so much, the man you thought to be so perfect.
The man you claimed to have so many things in common with.
Well, now you knew for sure.
You did have a lot in common with Choso Kamo.
Author's note: not my favorite fanfic, honestly. It's not edited since it's 2am and i don't wanna re-read, so tell me if you find any mistakes! By the way, new chapter of "dogs and Cats café" will be out next week when i'm finally done with my final exams.
Hope you liked this, I'll be reading your comments 💕
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk drabbles#choso x you#choso kamo x reader#choso fluff#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x female reader#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk x yn#jjk angst#jjk yandere#yandere#stalker bf#stalker gf#imagine#jjk imagine#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujustsu kaisen x reader
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when you know, you know | s. r.
𑁤 synopsis: in an interview she opens up about how easy it is to be loved by Spencer, sharing the story of how they met and how his love inspired her music.
𑁤 pairing: spencer reid x singer!reader
𑁤 words: 1.090
𑁤 disclaimer: This was 100% inspired by something my bf said a while ago, and I love the song. I hope you will enjoy it too <3
“As we reach the close of our conversation, one thing’s bugging me. In your song “Margaret,” there’s this line ‘when you know, you know.’ Like, how do you just know someone’s the one? I’ve been through my share of relationships, yet I haven’t experienced that kind of thing you sing about. In your song, it’s all so clear-cut, like you can predict the future. It reminds me of a kid believing in the tooth fairy – sweet idea, maybe not quite real. But that’s probably what makes the song so good. It talks about this perfect love where everything just clicks, and all your worries disappear. Maybe that’s what I’m still looking for, or maybe it’s just for some lucky people. Either way, your song paints such a strong picture of love that it makes me wonder if I’ll ever have a ‘Margaret’ of my own.”
“It’s funny, right? The answer everyone gives is so simple: “you’ll just know.” Like love hits you like a lightning bolt, destiny calls, happily ever after guaranteed. But maybe that’s the problem. We get this picture-perfect idea of love from movies and books, and then we miss the real thing when it’s right under our noses. We set these high expectations, these checklists of what “the one” should be like. And if someone doesn’t tick every box, we write them off. It’s like searching for a flawless diamond, forgetting that even the most beautiful gems have tiny imperfections. Because guess what? We all mess up. You make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone does. Maybe that’s what makes a real connection so special – accepting someone, flaws and all. Speaking of which, there’s this story I wanted to share with you.”
“We're all ears!”, the interviewer and the crew smile with waiting faces.
“For the longest time, I believed I was destined to give love, but never receive it. Maybe because... well, let’s be honest, I can be a bit self-absorbed, lost in my own head and neglecting others. But even with the no love life mantra, there was always this yearning for a family, a deep desire for children I could call my own. The ‘what ifs’ terrified me, though. Would I be a good parent? Would they be happy? Could I provide for them? Eventually, I resigned myself to a life of music, making people happy through my art, having a few friends, maybe a tragically young death – you know, the artist’s curse.
Then, I found him. We both know Penny, but run in different circles. He’s in law, I’m an artist – about as different as you get, except for maybe a shared love of fancy vocabulary. We met at Penny’s birthday party, and while he claims it was love at first sight for him, I just thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. But that was it. He was too shy to introduce himself, and I was sworn off men at the time. Funny how fate works, right? We never crossed paths before, but after that night, it seemed like everywhere I turned, there he was. That’s when I decided to take a chance, and boy, I was so scared!
All those stories about soulmates and butterflies? They weren’t for me. Anxiety had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. Butterflies just meant another battle brewing in my head. What I craved was peace, a steady hand to anchor me until I was ready to set sail. So, I built a friendship with him. We shared secrets, dreams, and vulnerabilities. He turned out to be a brilliant mind, a walking encyclopedia with an IQ of 187. Yet, he never made me feel inferior. He found humor in my quirks, and we seemed to complement each other perfectly. The more time we spent together, the more his words resonated: “We were designed for one another.”
And then, it hit me. Love. Deep, unexpected, and all-encompassing. It felt effortless, a perfect fit. But fear gnawed at me. It was all so new, so unfamiliar. Just as I was drowning in uncertainty, Penny, our mutual friend, reached out. She had something to show me – “Margaret.”
“She wrote it?” she asked, intrigued.
“Well, she started it,” I clarify. “Inspired by him, she penned the first lines that night after the birthday party. She couldn't shake the image of his longing gaze, a sight she’d never witnessed before. It felt sacred, a raw glimpse into his heart. The initial draft, rough around the edges, went something like this: ‘just writing for a friend. My shirt's inside out, and penmanship is messy. He met her on the rooftop, and she wore white. He said, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’ He saw flashes of the future.” A gentle smile graces your lips.
“Seriously, that’s adorable.”
I nod, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Right? Her words sparked inspiration within me. I wrote the rest, my mind consumed by-”
“By him.” she prompted, leaning in.
“He made love feel simple. Loving me was effortless for him, a stark contrast to the struggle I’d always imagined. It was like breathing, a natural and easy rhythm. He helped me discover the light that had been hiding within me all along.”
“There’s a saying,” the interviewer began, “to be loved is to be changed.”
I smiled. “I prefer a different one: to be loved is to be known. Because maybe, just maybe, he saw the affection within me all along, the part I couldn’t quite see myself.”
“You are indeed full of affection,” she said warmly. “Thank you for sharing this story with us.”
“Thank you for listening. I know it's a cliché, but there truly is someone out there for everyone. You never know what tomorrow holds, but deep down, a tiny spark ignites within us, guiding us towards that love. Trust it.”
“That wraps it up for our interview with the lovely Y/n! But before we say goodbye, there's one more message for her. Can we play it, Jonah?” A nod later, the studio fills with the sound of a familiar voice.
“Hey there, love. Just wanted to say congratulations on the album! You poured your heart and soul into it, and I’m incredibly proud. But hey, can you come home soon? Two days feels like an eternity without you. Miss my other half. Love you tons, sweetheart. And everyone listening, stream Ocean Boulevard! Dex says hi to mom, too.” A meow erupts in the background, eliciting a laugh from you and the studio crew.
thoughts? or prayers idk
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer read imagines#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader insert#spencer reid x singer!reader#spencer reid singer#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#veturiusofserra writings
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Hurt/comfort, my favorite !!! How about aemond with a reader who gets angry when she gets overwhelmed, and him knowing exactly what she needs? Like a book and hot tea, knows not to touch her until she asks? Thank you sm bae and obvs you don't have to write this if you don't want to ! Ilysm and you're so talented, esp in hurt/comfort !!! 🩵🩵🩵
thank you so much for requesting and being so kind, i hope you enjoy!! <333 requests are open
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort
aemond keeps the distance between you and him on the couch and suddenly you hate it.
you turn to look at him through glossy eyes, smudged mascara runs on your cheeks. you didn't mean to be so stressed out but can you really control how you feel under pressure? work has been hectic lately, you don't know how to finish everything you think of doing. you don't know anything.
your boyfriend has been patient with your little tantrum even though all he wanted was to keep you in his arms, safe and secured. he didn't touch you other than leading you to the couch with invisible fingers on your shoulder. he still doesn't touch you to not overwhelm you further. you want to wrap your arms around his shoulders, you want him to hold you until you stop breathing.
"aemond?" you say slowly.
"yes?" he turns to look at you. his fingers itch to hold you but he knows not to touch you without you touching him first. you still shake with anger and stress.
"can you- can we-"
"it's okay." he says. "just tell me what you want."
his voice is so gentle, so soft. you want to cry in his arms.
"can you hold me?"
your voice is so small, aemond wants to protect you from everything.
"of course." he replies. "come here."
you settle down on his lap, his arms are strong around your body. your head is buried on his neck just like he wants, he kisses your hair. you keep crying for a few minutes, he rubs your back and dries your fresh tears with his thumb. he is warm, his chest becomes a pillow.
"i'm sorry." you say when you finally calm down.
"don't." he says. "you've got nothing to be sorry for."
you look at him. he cleans the mascara stains on your cheek with his thumb.
"i was angry because of work." you start with a low voice. "i don't know how to finish things. i didn't mean to- upset you with my problems."
aemond gives you a broken smile. you talk as if he's never done the same to you. most of the time he's stressed, under so much pressure in his family's company and what happens to him affects you too. you're the kindest person he's ever known, always comforting him with your sweet touches and gentle words. he tries to do the same for you, but he feels like a failure now that you keep crying.
he gives you a big kiss on your forehead. "it's okay, sweetheart." he says. "you can be angry, you can be upset. it's been too overwhelming for you lately and- reacting to it is not your fault."
you put your head on his shoulder. aemond has never been good with people who needs comforting by him, most of the time he freezes and does nothing except waiting. with you, it's different. he always feels the urge to protect you, keep you safe. even if it's your own mind and your feelings that are battling against you right now, he'd try to fight.
he counts down minutes, careful with his fingers as he touches you. his fingers are soothing. you breathe in his cologne, the smell of the shampoo he likes. closing your eyes, there's only him. he holds you until your breathing turns normal, until your cheeks dry. he gives you a nice kiss on the side of your head when you move.
"can i make you some tea?" he asks, the most gentle you've ever heard him.
you nod, how can you refuse when he speaks as if the tea he makes will heal everything? he tucks you under your favorite blue blanket before he leaves for kitchen.
he comes back five minutes later. your eyes are heavy from the tears but you keep them open to see aemond. you're almost certain you won't be able to finish your tea but that doesn't matter. he'll make you countless cups of it if you ask him to.
you drink slowly, the room gets darker each minute as the sun goes down. aemond keeps your hand in his, his fingertips shaping little circles on your palm. you fall asleep with the half finished, nearly cold tea in your other hand.
he kisses your forehead and gives you a silent promise to never let go of your hand.
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#aemond x you#aemond x reader#modern!aemond#hotd#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfiction#hotd aemond#modern!aemond targaryen#modern au#aemond x fem!reader
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How to find your way around Joblr!
Hello! This is your first time on Joblr and you're wondering how this works? So relatable, been there, this website can be confusing!
But do not fret. We're happy to have you here and want you to have a good time.
So here's a guide on how to exist on Tumblr dot com and how to have a good time being a fan of Joker Out on this website.
Collectively written by the Joblr Discord Server.
Here you'll find:
what you are getting yourself into
a step by step guide on how this website works
spoken and unspoken rules of RPF on tumblr
First of all, what are you getting yourself into?
Pros:
So many talented artists, writers, editors, gif makers, meme makers, it's actually wild! And they all do this for free!!
Long rant posts with detailed analyses on whatever new photos Damon has taken of the guys
Pics, Gifs, vids and clips of gigs, interviews and their social media, also often throwbacks (with sources/credits if the original posters didn't take them themselves)
So many lovely and unhinged thoughts people leave in the tags when reblogging your posts (more on how that works later) so you see direct reactions to what you've made
A very chill environment with virtually no drama or arguments (and we really mean that <3), the only thing we're feral about are the guys
Cons (or something):
The "what is Kris's hair colour?" discourse pops up every couple months
So many polls (but are we really complaining about that?)
You're intrigued! Nice! How does all this work then?
Step 1 - your blog:
Create your blog and customize it.
Unfortunately Tumblr is dealing with a lot of bots that look exactly like new blogs. So if you keep your profile picture and header as the default one, blogs you follow might think you're a bot and block you. TO PREVENT THAT: change your profile pic and header to something you like and maybe add something in your description, even if it's just "Hi, I'm just here to lurk, do not perceive me".
That shows other blogs that you're a real person and they'll enjoy having you as a follower.
Step 2 - general tags:
Take a look at some tags you enjoy.
Tumblr is all about tagging, which is essentially nothing other than a hashtag, but they're only at the very bottom of a post, in a separate little section. (Writing "#joker out" in the middle of your post does absolutely nothing, but if you use the tag "joker out" in the tags section, your post will appear in the "#joker out" tag on tumblr)
For example, we have tags for each of the boys, as well as a general "joker out" of course. But there are also tags for ships (more on ships later!). Find some you're interested in and take a peep inside.
(You can also follow tags to find them easier again later.)
Step 3 - reblogging (and more tags):
See a post you like? Reblog it!
Reblogging is just about the best thing about tumblr, it's truly the easiest and quickest way to connect with other blogs.
A reblog is a little bit like a retweet on Twitter, it is not a repost! You are taking a copy of the post and slapping it onto your blog, kinda like a scrap book. But the fun thing: you can leave your thoughts!
Here's where tags come back into play: they're not only to file your posts and to have them appear in tags, they're the place to leave any little comments you might have.
For example: you see a post with a gif of Kris at a gig, he's wearing an outfit you like and fun sunglasses. So you click on the little reblog button. At the very bottom of the post, you have the gray bubble with the tag "#add tags to help people find your post" (or whatever it corresponds to in your language) (or just "add tags" on mobile). Click it, and write what you think.
#Kris i missed you!! #he looks so good in that jacket #and also thank you to whoever gave him those sunglasses #<3333 #Kris Guštin #joker out
Then when you reblog the post, it will appear on your blog with those tags at the bottom. The tags you leave on a post will only be on your blog. Someone in turn can reblog the post from your blog and leave their own tags.
The original poster (short: op) will see all the tags people leave on their post in their activity and other people can see them when they click on "notes". It's so much fun to click through what people leave in the tags, be it your own post or someone else's.
Of course you don't have to reblog posts, the like button is there too. But reblogs are the only way posts are spread throughout the fandom, as there is no proper algorithm (which we're all very glad about!!!), and they're the way for you to personalise your blog. So reblog liberally! It's how this website thrives!
Step 4 - following blogs:
Follow blogs you enjoy!
In order for posts to appear on your feed (your timeline), you have to follow blogs, that makes sense. So when you find a blog whose posts (or art or writing or whatever they blog about) you like, give them a follow.
Now, on other websites it might be seen as creepy to spamlike someone's account. Here it's like the biggest compliment ever to go through someone's blog and like and reblog a lot of their posts (especially if you leave your thoughts in the tags). It is absolutely flattering!
Step 5 - making posts:
Make posts if you want.
It's totally fine to just exist on this website and to like and reblog stuff, there is absolutely no pressure. But posting is fun!
You made some art? You took a photo or video at a concert? You have a question about something or just a cursed thought? We'd love to see it! Slap it into a post and share it with the Joker Out world.
Add tags about the people involved so others can find it, a little "#my art/video/pic" so we know you made/took it yourself, and even share some behind the scenes thoughts in the tags if you want.
Tags for a drawing can look like this for example:
#this took me so long #but I'm really proud of how it turned out!! #the shading was a struggle but oh welk #*well #tried a new brush #jure maček #my art #joker out
And then others can like and reblog your post with their own thoughts.
Keep in mind: do not (re)post someone else's art/Gifs/writing without their explicit consent! If you do (with their consent), credit them (you can add links to text by highlighting the text and clicking on the little link symbol, then copying the link into the bar. It looks like this.) (Here is a handy guide on how to repost Gifs on Tumblr while giving proper credit at the same time.) Same goes for sharing photos the band, their photographers or their friends have posted on social media: give credit when needed.
There has been a serious issue with people stealing Gifs off of Tumblr and posting them on Twitter without consent or credit. That is not okay! People spend a lot of time and effort making them, having them get stolen like that is incredibly frustrating!
Step 6 - making friends:
Interact with other people.
Now, we totally get that this is scary. But think about this: everyone else on this website, in this fandom, is just some guy (gender neutral). We're all wimps giggling, kicking our feet at five slovenian men and their music. Honestly, there's nothing scary about us, even if it might feel like it.
But we love making friends! And that doesn't necessarily entail sliding into some DMs to talk to people (but you can do that, most blogs are super okay with that), there are many ways to interact with others on this website.
The tags are one way of course, for your own thoughts or to respond to something OP has mentioned in their post. Making posts and polls and asking people to interact with you is another way, then you can see their thoughts in the tags, how fun is that!
Another way is asks, which is a special bonus feature on Tumblr. When you're on someone's blog, some have a little bubble below their description with "ask me anything" or something along that inside (unless they have turned off the feature). Click that, and you can ask them a question which they can then respond to publicly (or privately) in a post.
People use this feature for writing or art prompts, ask games, birthday wishes, or just to ask random questions or share thoughts. You can even send anonymous asks if you're too shy (some people take advantage of that to send anonymous hate. Do not be one of those people!). But it's always nice to have a face behind the ask.
Keep in mind, not all artists/writers are open for prompts or requests. Some state it somewhere on their blog if they are or aren't, some reblog lists with prompts and explicitly ask for them. If you're unsure, send them an ask or a DM and ask about it.
Then there are also Discord servers of course. There are a couple different ones floating around. If you're interested in the Joblr one for example, feel free to send me a DM! :D
Step 7 - ignoring and blocking:
Saw something you don't like? No stress, just ignore it.
It's as easy as that. The best way to have a good time in fandom, is to focus on what you enjoy. So when someone makes a post you don't like or has a take you disagree with, just scroll past it.
If you feel like the blog and its posts you don't like keep appearing, block them. For real, the block button is your friend. And no one is going to be mad at you, promise.
Arguing on the internet is not fun for anyone involved (you, the person who made the post, everyone who sees your argument), especially when it's about personal opinions (that includes interpretations, ships, even kinks). So it's best to just. not.
There’s also the option to blacklist/filter tags, if you don’t like a specific ship for example, but it’s also really helpful for triggers you’d rather not see! On desktop, you do so by clicking “Settings” and then scrolling down until you see “Content you see”. There under “Filtered Tags” you can add tags you’d rather avoid, and under “Filtered Post Content” you can do the same with, well, post content. On mobile, you go to your blog and click the settings icon, then “Account Settings”, then “Content You See”. There you’ll find “Filtered Tags” and “Filtered Post Content”.
This way, posts that are tagged with the filtered tag or include the filtered word will be blocked with the message “This post contains filtered tags/content”. There’s also a button to view the post anyways, but you do so at your own risk of course! There’s content you’d rather not see behind it!
(Of course, if you see someone being bigoted, being particularly hateful or spreading misinformation, that's a different thing! It's totally fine to defend or correct someone. In most cases, the comment section or even DMs is the best place for that, to keep it about the people involved. Making posts about it, will let it get out of hand and is rarely necessary, unless it's really important.)
Spoken and unspoken rules of RPF (real people fiction) on Tumblr (and by extension: AO3)
(In no particular order)
1. They're real people.
Joker Out's members (and their friends) are real people we know virtually nothing about. We know that we know virtually nothing about them. And we are totally okay with this.
The people we post about, write fics about, draw are fictionalised versions of the real people (maybe with the exception of when we post pics/vids we've taken or share what they've shared on social media). Most of it is made up, because again, we don't know them. And in no way shape or form is anything we write/post/draw speculation about what they might be like in real life. We know this and are okay with this and that's exactly what makes RPF fun.
This way we can just make shit up! Wanna draw them in skirts? Give them random jobs? Trans their genders? Think about different dynamics? All of that is fair game, because it's all made up.
So when we call Kris a princess and Jan a babygirl, we are not reducing them to that or think that they're only like this in real life. In the next sentence, we might call Jan a hunky dude, and both are correct.
Same goes for ships. Ships like Jan x Nace, or Kris x Damon stem from the interactions the real people share with us, but in the end, anything we make of it is entirely made up and doesn't represent the real people at all. Be it an AU or something that could've happened during an event that really happened.
You'll often find disclamers like this (much shorter versions tho) in the beginning notes of fics.
2. Keep fandom in fandom spaces.
Fandom is not a secret, the guys are probably well aware of what's happening on social media in their fandom spaces (though probably no specifics). So far they have not expressed any discomfort with any of it, even encouraged it in some way or another.
If that ever changes, if they ever do say that they are uncomfortable with what is written about them, we will respect that and refrain from doing so. Their comfort comes first.
Still, we don't want them to accidentally stumble across something they haven't been actively searching for, so we keep it on Tumblr and AO3, where it's unlikely they'll just randomly find it.
So please refrain from sharing art/fics on sites like Twitter or Instagram, which we know they frequent, if the artists don't post them there themselves.
3. Don’t like? Don’t read.
This rule goes for basically everything on the internet and corresponds with Step 7 - Ignoring and blocking, but it’s helpful to repeat it here again.
You might enjoy being in a real people fandom differently than others. Maybe you don’t like reading fics about the people involved, or don’t like some interpretations others have of them. That is totally okay! Everyone enjoys different things.
But if you don’t like something, simply don’t read it - or scroll past it, or block the blog, or filter the tag, you get the gist. Receiving comments like, “this is so weird, why does this exist? Why are people like this?” is incredibly hurtful and will gain the commenter absolutely nothing (apart from others thinking they’re a super shitty person), so don’t leave them. Just go on with your day.
Tldr: Be respectful, be mindful, be creative, be open, and if need be, take a step back. That’s really all it takes.
Alrighty! Now you know a whole lot more about how Tumblr works and how we're existing in the fandom here.
We hope you're staying for longer than just to lurk about what it's like here, and that you're having a good time. We’re looking forward to going feral about Joker Out with you!
If you have any questions, the comment section is a good place to leave them, there others can find them and the answers as well. Or feel free to try out the ask button on my blog <3
#thanks to the lovely people in the Joblr discord for helping with this#we're genuinely having the time of our lives here#and we know and want you to have the same fun#joker out#bojan cvjetićanin#kris guštin#jan peteh#jure maček#nace jordan#joblr
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Love Sea: Tongrak is Kind of an Asshole, and I Like It
I watched this yesterday with some friends, so my Stray Thoughts were a little scattered because we were talking about BL conventions, Thailand's tourism goals, and who MAME was. Now, with some time to think, I wanna talk about my favorite thing: Tongrak is a rich asshole. I love this for Fort and Peat.
He Looks Down on People Poorer Than Him
We open with Tongrak dressed inappropriately for his trip and the weather, whining on his phone, just to show his disdain for even being sent on this vacation.
Then when he first arrives on the island, he looks around at people enjoying themselves and a sign they dedicated to their home reading "Heaven on Earth" and immediately called it hell. This is these people's home! He is a guest! I deal with this show in my home city all the time. Be respectful!
Next, the first thing he does is start shouting at Mahasamut about the motorcycle and his luggage. He doesn't slow down to ask if Mut can speak the central dialect, or if there are alternative modes of transport. Instead he just screams at the man and then starts talking shit in front of him like he can't understand what is being said. I give Americans shit for doing this in other countries, and I give northerners shit for acting like they can't understand our accents down here along the Gulf.
He was rude about that bar, too. He went there for attention, and got pissed at the idea that people there might be into Mut more.tjsn him. He then stormed off without paying for his drink!
This man is so stubborn and petty that he literally just starts sending him thousands of baht instead of just asking him to speak in the same dialect as him. I'm totally with Mut on not speaking to him nicely until Tongrak did it first. What's so wild about this scene is that it's text that Rak is mad that his condescension is having no effect.
Mahasamut is Responding to Tongrak's Energy
Mut is just responding to what Rak is giving him, and is doing everyone a favor by bearing the brunt of this spoiled man's fits. He was even kind enough to let this man know right away that he could understand him.
The big thing for me is he can see when Rak is trying to get one over on him and turns that around. Rak tried to play like he had the upper hand sexually and felt played. He tried to play about being full and got played.
We see that the people of the island admire Tongrak, and he's involved in their lives. He's clearly playing a role here that Rak's friends hired him to play to help their cranky friend relax and finish his book.
I also like that Mut has made it clearly he is down to fuck with Rak whether he pays for it or not, because Rak is trying to hook up with someone for inspiration for his novel. I like that he removed the wealth component there, because it's clear Rak is used to throwing money at all of his problems.
Finally, Mut stopped immediately when he realized he'd actually scared and upset Rak. He doesn't actually want to hurt this man.
Why This Rocks for Peat and Fort
These two found a good rhythm in Love in the Air. They're good at this form of asymmetric bickering and flirtation. However, this time Peat gets to play the older, richer character. It's fun for me, because I think there's going to be a bunch of transference from LITA that covers how much of a jerk Rak is being to others.
I am glad that these two aren't reprising the same characters, and are being given a reasonable way to take advantage of their existing dynamic and tools. It's interesting that these guys can tap into similar beats without it feeling like the same characters.
On the Colorism
I see it, and it's there. However, I don't think MAME is an outlier in using it in her shows. There's a really rough sequence in Fish Upon The Sky (with Neo no less) that comes to mind immediately. I also just think that the skin tone stuff seems built in to a lot of the works we encounter (especially considering that some of these guys are literally brand ambassadors for skin lightening products or clinics). I think there's something to say about the way Mut is teasing Rak with a country bumpkin bit that could almost be read as race play, and there's maybe something to unpack there with far more nuance than I think we normally bring to BL.
But hey, while I have you here, now's a good time to say that if we want to tackle how race affects the queer experience, For The Boys is right there!
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This is so stupid but I was wondering if you might have any Dick and Roy meta? I've always loved your meta posts about the relationships between the Fab Five and different characters and lately, I've been seeing a lot of those posts where people splice certain comic pannels with poems/sayings/inspirational quotes and things that match and I've been wanting to have more in-depth ideas of the relationship between Dick and Roy because they're just so interesting but I don't have the brains to come up with anything myself
when i think about dick grayson and roy harper i think about the trope king + lionheart — a burdened hero, and their loyal protector — and how they switch roles with each other. like two standout dickroy books are probably old friends, new enemies and outsiders (2003), and while they’re both initiated with roy reaching out to dick for help, his motivations are very different. i think that dynamic, and how they don’t fit solely into one role, is part of why i enjoy reading about them so much.
in old friends, roy is the king — he’s trying to track down chesire and find lian, and isn’t initially honest about his intentions. he’s struggling with his decisions, and his faith in himself. dick acts as the moral support, his backup, and also calls him out on his actions.
but their relationship is still loving. there’s a solid foundation of trust that makes dick want to support roy and protect his daughter, to the point that he and jade nguyen show a (very) begrudging respect to each other.
in outsiders, dick is the king — donna has just died, bludhaven is going to shit, and roy knows that he’s spiralling. roy is the solid support who convinces dick to lead a new team because he knows dick hurts himself through isolation. they’re both grieving donna and the loss of their team, but roy forces dick to reconnect again. he forces dick to care.
despite being the leader of the outsiders, dick is uncompromising in his loyalty in roy. he tells people to leave if they don’t accept roy’s authority in the team. after roy is shot, dick takes the same action as roy in the first issue — he brute forces his way into getting roy out of the spiral. he holds a gun to roy’s head and tells him to take it.
im a huge sucker for friends to lovers, but what i really love is two competent people with absolute faith in each other. i dislike the idea that bat-characters are like….. absurdly op and everyone is just in awe of them all the time, but dick’s reputation means that trusting someone the way he trusts roy is important. he watched his teammates die, he watched his sister die to save his life, and he still trusts roy to be there. roy historically has a bit of an inferiority complex about working with dick, but dick does not reciprocate. dick knows roy will be there when it counts.
there’s a particular kind of love that comes from mourning the same person during one of the worst times of your life.
the fact that the early tragedies in their lives are so similar, that they lost family and an idea of place at similar ages, were mentored by mortal men who wanted to do good, but still ended up so close but so different is really really interesting to me. u get to outsiders, and they really know each other in a really intense way.
truly like…. i would fall on ur sword because i trust u not to land the killing blow. to finish — something something gay people
#blorbos#dickroy#roy harper#dick grayson#nightwing#arsenal#dc comics#the ask and the answer#teen titans#ty vechter for the webweaves hehehehe#then it totally went to shit in 2009 but dw about that lol
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The Book Burrow [Ghost]
[Masterlist] || Requests are Open || GIF by hollow-epitaph
cw: Simon using an identity to hide from his previous job?, n/a
synopsis: The dodgy bar down the street was turned into a bookstore a few months earlier in your town and its the last place to try to find the book series your friend recommended to you.
The darkly tinted windows showed your reflection as you squinted, trying to peer inside to discern whether this was truly a bookstore or a bar with a gimmick. It'd previously been a bar that was shut down so the bar seemed the more likely scenario in your mind. The odd hours on the door mirrored that of any bar in the area, perhaps opening a little earlier.
Your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip. There was a singular book series you have been trying to find for the past week and the author listed this place specifically on their website. It seemed odd that an author would promote a specific, new maybe-bar bookstore.
While you've been in bars before, they didn't give you any joy to spend time there. The smell of alcohol made your stomach churn most days. You take a deep breath, gripping the handle firmly and tugging on it.
It opens with a creak of its hinges and you smell.. coffee. It's not so strong that it assaults your nose. It wraps around your figure, drawing you further into the building. Your eyes glitter with the scene before you: a legitimate bookstore, no booze included.
Shelves, sparsely populated with books, stand under large handwritten signs marking each section. You tilt your head, realizing the labels aren’t what you'd expect.
The traditional genre labels of "fiction", "romance" or even "nonfiction" have been superseded by handwritten replacements. Each section has it a descriptive tag hanging down above it -- 'Better than Stephen King', 'Mostly Accurate Espionage', 'Horrible Backstory with Good Story', and 'Monster dating'.
Laughter bubbles out of your throat. You approach the 'Monster Dating' section, plucking a random book to scan over the synopsis of it. It's indeed about dating in a fantasy universe where Werewolves and other things go bump in the night.
Engrossed in the first few pages, you don't notice the presence behind you until a throat clears. You jump, snapping the book closed and turning to face a man an intimidating aura to him. He's bulky, the t-shirt stretching over obvious muscles while his face is obscured by a half-mask with a skull's upper and lower jaw printed on it.
"Anything I can help you with?" His voice is full of gravel like his words claw their way out of his throat.
Clutching the book to your chest, you stammer, "I'm looking for a series by Grace Kirkly?"
"Oh." He mutters, motioning you to follow him with two fingers.
The floorboards creak under your steps as you follow him to the counter. He steps to his left, motioning to the display right beside the counter. Your eyes light up as you see the sale sign - twenty percent knocked off the first book, fifteen percent off the second book when purchased together.
You pick up the books, happy to be able to buy all three books in the series in one go. "Thank you."
The books land on the counter with a heavy thump while he rounds the counter. His eyes feel heavy on you as you timidly put the 'monster boyfriend' book on the counter as well.
"Ever read 'em?" He questions, scanning each book leisurely.
"No, a friend recommended her to me." You respond, digging your card out of your purse to hand it over.
"For the series, the first book is more setting up for the second. I enjoyed the second's descriptiveness during the sex scenes. The third shows he's growing as a writer, too." He tore off a patch of brown paper, centering your books on them. "The other book you picked up is a personal favorite of mine."
He creases the brown paper with sharp folds, making the stack of four books look like a singular box. He rolls a piece of tape on top then holds his hand out for your card. You hand it over quickly, a question balancing on the tip of your tongue.
"I thought Grace was a woman. Do you.. read a lot?" As soon as the question leaves your mouth, you feel stupid. He works in a bookstore - he can read as many books as he wants for free, most likely.
He swipes the card then lays it on the counter between you two, his gaze sharp. "Every book in my shop has been read by me. I didn't want to put anything I couldn't say was good on the shelves."
"So the signs are..?"
"It's nice to walk into a place and know exactly what you're getting." He grabs a small card, punching two holes into it before sliding it and your card toward you. "Tenth punch is a free book."
Your eyes read over the card's information - ten little skulls line edges of the card. In the middle is the shop's name - The Book Burrow and under that - Managed by Morys Neil.
Your eyes meet his again, a smile on your lips, "Thank you, Mister Neil."
"I can show you similar authors if you enjoy Grace Kirkly when you return." Morys leaned on the counter, picking up a book from under it to start reading. His combat boots land on the edge of the counter next to your books as he settles into his chair.
"I'll try to get through them as quickly as possible then." The words leave your mouth and a moment later, you realize how flirtatious it sounds.
His eyes leave the book momentarily, "Anticipation is the best part of any story. No need to rush to see me."
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon x reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x you#call of duty ghost#ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x female reader#simon riley imagine#simon ghost x reader#cod#cod smut#call of duty smut#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#i wonder who that author could be..#the names are all scrambled
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✨ pairings: Eris x Reader x Azriel (ft. Cassian)
🔮 preview: Everything about the three of you was very opposite — you were a pastel princess, while the two were dark macabre. And yet the three of you melded together like a melting pot. Eris and Azriel adore their little princess — and would do anything to make you happy — whether it be distracting you from the voices in your head to killing a boy who looked at you a little too long.
📣 trigger warnings: mentions of blood and killing, Azriel and Eris being overly touchy with our reader, short skirts, corsets, mentions of sex (kind of explicit), pet names: my morose, my darling, sweet angel, temptation (Azriel and Eris to (Y/N)), mia cara (Azriel to Eris), mon cher (Eris to Azriel)
🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 3.5k
💜 masterlist + notes: Like… I love dark gothic and the Addams family is so iconic, love them. So… Why not do an Addams Family AU x ACOTAR with our favorite boys Eris and Azriel? They would be gorgeous in macabre — like Eris giving me Morticia vibes, elegant but ruthless while Azriel is big Gomez vibes with the pinstripe suit and cigar in between his fingers; both wearing black, all the while reader being this pastel princess in bright pastels and pinks. Ugh, such a vibe. I’ve never written a bratty reader before. And thank you to @prythianpages (and sorry Hope! I couldn’t do the FIRE OF MY LOINS” as much as I love it LMAO) and @dawneternal for suggestions for the nicknames for (Y/N)!! This fic has a bunch of sexual tension and dark intentions, I hope I portray it correctly. I hope you enjoy it.
A long sigh escaped your lips, eyes staring into the hearth across the room, your eyes distant and your mind racing — a normal occurrence for you. It seemed as if your mind never calmed; voices echoed in your head, real and from beyond the grave — a silly power of clairaudience. You didn’t know what to focus on — you didn’t even know if the thoughts in your head were yours anymore and you often were found like this, staring into space, eyes unfocused.
You arrived at the spooky hilltop house not too long ago, stepping through the large wooden doors and going through familiar halls and doorways to your favorite little nook in the whole house: a simple overgrown sunroom.
Flopping down on the familiar black gothic couch, you laid perpendicular, body facing the glass ceiling, legs slung over the back of the couch. The hearth across from you roared to life as if the house knew you were home, and that thought made you smile softly. Eyes wandered around you, spotting a familiar book on the side table. You immediately recognized whose book it was — Eris’s. That man loved a good Edgar Allen Poe book, and always seemed to carry one around in his large lithe hands.
Attempting to be as graceful as your lover, you plucked the book from its place, opening the book to read a page of poetry, in an attempt to drown out the voices in your head; however, your mind continued to race, the voices in your head relentless with whispered words.
That lady down the hill… she kept saying…
The girls at work called you —-
People think you’re nothing but a —-
With a frustrated groan, you threw the thick book across the room, hearing the loud thud as it landed a few inches from the fiery hearth. A pout tugged at the edge of your pink-stained lips, eyes shifting from the faced-down book and focusing on the movement of the fire, another attempt to muffle the voices in your head.
Azriel heard the loud thud from the grand staircase and he couldn’t help but raise a brow at the sound. His shadows zoomed from underneath his feet, guiding him towards the familiar sunroom, quiet footsteps following their trail. He saw familiar pale legs slung over the black couch, feet bound in pink lolita heels, topped off with a pretty bow, and calves covered in white lace leggings.
(Y/N).
He wasn’t aware that you had arrived home, not even his shadows were aware. Usually, you would parade yourself throughout the whole house — practically announcing your presence to your lovers. But the fact that you had arrived at the house, both he and his husband were not aware of your presence in the large house made his heart feel unsettled.
Cradling a glass of wine in his hand, he summoned his shadows back to him as he walked over to the large carved archway and leaned against it, eyes shifting up from your feet to your legs, and just a bit over your knees, before noticing the discarded book near the hearth.
“Sweet angel?” he called your nickname and watched as your head popped up, eyes focusing on him and a delicate hand giving him a little wave from your position. He could tell you were too lazy to shift yourself into a proper position; however, he did not mind at all.
He got to see a gorgeous view of your tempting legs.
Though he was quite sure Eris would have a few words about it.
You laid your head back down, head hanging from the edge of the couch, and focused back on the hearth. As much as you loved being around your lovers, your head was far too occupied and all you could focus was on those damned voices.
You didn’t even hear Azriel’s footsteps grow closer to you, didn’t hear the gentle clink of the wine glass being placed down on the marble side table where the book had laid earlier. But when you felt cold hands on your knees, you were brought back from your thoughts and looked up at your lover, a worried gaze hidden deep in cobalt hues. His hands ran up your thighs, fingers touching the edge of your white tennis skirt, gently squeezing your naked thighs in his grasp.
You shivered at his touches, eyes fluttering close and a deep chuckle vibrated through Azriel — his voice always made your body tingle in the right ways.
But what you were grateful for the most was that when Azriel touched you, the voices in your head stopped — silence finally taking over your brain. And you let out a relaxed sigh, your body becoming putty on the couch, your head slacking over the edge of the couch.
Azriel recognized that sigh and couldn’t help but coo, fingers continuing to massage your thighs, his shadows slithering from underneath his fingertips to crawl over your skin, as his eyes looked over your outfit. You were dressed in a pretty white ensemble with hints of pink — a short skirt that stopped above your thighs and an intricate floral corset that hugged your curves in all the right ways. Due to your position, your skirt bunched a bit higher on your thighs, showing the juncture between your legs, with a tiny peek of your pristine white underwear, where he noticed tiny pink bows at the bottom seam. Azriel wasn’t sure whether you were trying to seduce him, but he knew from that sigh that you weren’t overtly trying to seduce him.
Your brain had just been in overdrive because of your powers.
His eyes traveled from the column of your neck to your face — one full of content and relief. Azriel was glad that he could keep you at peace, he knew how awful your powers could become when your mind was overwhelmed with voices. You had always told him and Eris that their touches were the only thing that kept the voices at bay — and they didn’t mind, they loved touching you — whether it be in the most sinful ways or the most innocent ways … but both opt for the former.
“You feeling better, sweet angel?” he murmured, his voice soft and gentle, not wanting you to be overwhelmed by your senses. He watched as his shadows slithered over your outfit and your skin and your body shivered again.
You nodded, a soft hum escaping your throat as your eyes fluttered back open to look up at him. You focused on his touch, focused on those tendrils of shadow — feeling those calloused and scarred hands squeezing and rubbing your flesh. His hands and shadows were nice and cold against your normally warm skin.
It helped calm your racing mind from those pesky voices that bothered you throughout the day.
Eyes locked onto cobalt hues and he gave you a soft smile, his hands sliding up your sides before grasping your upper back and heaving you up. A squeal escaped your lips as you were brought up to sit at the top of the couch, arms wrapping around Azriel’s strong shoulders as his hands slid to wrap around your waist, keeping you steady.
“There’s my sweet girl…” Azriel murmured, pressing a kiss on your cheek and you giggled, smelling the fruity taste of the alcohol he was drinking in his breath.
“Hi, Azzie…” you greeted him with a smile, snuggling your cheek against his own.
“You scared me for a moment, I didn’t even know you were home…” he hummed out, fingers slipping underneath the lace of your corset, tugging them to free you from the bindings.
A sigh escaped your lips and rested your cheek on his shoulder, just savoring his touches, savoring the silence of your head — focusing on your lover.
“…I’m sorry, Azzie…” you murmured, “My head was too much, I just wanted the voices to stop…”
“—-Is that why Eris’s book is on the floor, darling?” he asked with a chuckle, pressing a kiss on your shoulder as his eyes went back onto the book on the ground. He should pick it up and place it where it belongs — he didn’t want his husband’s favorite book to be burnt.
But he couldn’t be bothered at the moment — not when his favorite girl was in his arms. And he wasn’t mad — how could he be with his darling? He knew you were trying to distract yourself but it wasn’t proper etiquette to be throwing things in the house.
“Did you have a tiny tantrum?”
You pouted, bottom lip shaking a bit. You didn’t like throwing tantrums, and most of the time it wasn’t; however, you were just so frustrated with the voices you just threw the book.
You didn’t mean it.
“I’m a good girl, Azzie… Always have been…” you muttered.
Azriel chuckled again at your statement, soothingly rubbing your back.
Yes, you had always been a good girl — their good girl.
Before he could retort that statement, he heard familiar footsteps behind him, his shadows slinking back into his form. Azriel didn’t need to look behind him — he knew those foosteps like the back of his hand, “Do you think (Y/N)’s been a good girl, mia cara?”
You blinked momentarily and looked behind him to see Eris stepping into the room, dressed to the nines — a red vest over a pristine white see-through shirt and simple black slacks. You loved how opposite the two men could be — Azriel in his blue and black ensemble and Eris always in some red hue.
The redhead walked over, standing next to his husband as a hum escaped his lips, looking over your outfit.
Much like Azriel, as much as they adored you in black — what they had dubbed family colors — Eris loved you in your pink and white outfits, you were like a candy waiting to be eaten.
But mind out of the gutter, amber hues noticed the discarded book near the hearth and he couldn’t help but raise a brow. That wasn’t where he had left his favorite poetry book. It didn’t take long for the male to connect the dots — the discarded book to the question.
Eris gave a low chuckle, reaching over to run long fingers through your hair, tugging the pretty little pink headband, and watching it drop onto the couch. He smoothed your hair down over your back before he opted to grasp your hips, squeezing them as he stepped closer to you, feeling his husband step to the side to give him room.
“Seeing my book haphazardly on the floor tells me she hasn’t been a good girl, mon cher…” he answered, his breath over your features.
You could smell and taste the hint of rose tea in his breath and you couldn’t help but lick your lower lips on how alluring Eris was — well practically the both of them were. The way they stood next to each other was practically a painting made by the Gods and you were a mere mortal gazing up at their etherealness. You didn’t even care that Eris had voiced you weren’t a good girl — your mind had fogged up too quickly at the sight of your beautiful lovers, that you spaced out, staring up at them with wide-doll-like eyes that both your lovers couldn’t help but chuckle on how innocent you looked.
“My morose?” Eris whispered your beloved nickname. That snapped your attention back up at him, your head tilting. It took a moment for your mind to catch up the fog slowly dissipating.
You blinked twice before you pouted, “I have been a good girl, Eris…” you whined softly, a hand unwrapping from Azriel’s shoulder to place on Eris’s muscular upper arms, well-manicured nails gently scraping the sheer fabric, “My head had too many voices, they wouldn’t shut up… I tried to distract myself with your book and well —-”
Looking over your shoulder and focused on the book on the ground, teeth biting into your lower lip before you looked back up at your two lovers through your lashes, “…I didn’t mean to throw it to the ground, Eris… I needed a distraction…”
“And you didn’t bother looking for me or Azriel to help distract you, my morose?” Eris questioned, his voice stern yet soft, understanding why you had done that.
“I didn’t even know she was here, mia cara…” Azriel informed his husband, his hand still playing with the straps of your lace.
Eris furrowed his brows as he looked down at you — it was very unlike you to be quiet with your entry. He knew something was up — and from what he could guess, it was due to being overstimulated with your powers.
You pouted again, eyes averting their gaze as your hands slipped from their respected position on both men to play with the lapels of their outfits, “…I didn’t want to bother either of you. And my mind was just… preoccupied by the stupid voices. I didn’t want either of you to get mad too because I was so frustrated…”
You heard Eris sigh and his free hand that was not occupied with your waist, which was now joining his husband’s on your back with undoing your laces, gently grasped your chin to force you to look back up at them.
“We would never get mad at you for seeking us out to help calm your mind, my darling…” he whispered, his lips hovering over yours, “You know that we like helping you, making you feel calm and making those voices stop… What we don’t like is you trying to solve your problem by yourself… Do you understand?”
You nodded and tilted your head up to gently capture your lover’s lips — it was your way of apologizing to both of them.
Eris chuckled into the kiss, the hand on your chin moved to cup the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. All the while, Azriel had finished untying the laces and tugging the corset off of you, leaving your top half bare. You shivered as the cold air of the house prickled your skin, and it didn’t help that both of your lover’s hands immediately cupped your breast, their cold fingers teasing flesh, leaving goosebumps along their wake.
A long whine escaped your lips as your head tilted back from the kiss, mouth a gape as the men decided to lean in and press kisses on either side of your neck, their lips pressed against your pulse point.
“Since you need a distraction, our sweet temptation, we can offer our full attention…” Eris teased.
Azriel chuckled against your skin, teeth going in to bite the junction of your neck and shoulders, while Eris’s hand shifted from the back of your neck to slide to your front and down the length of your body to slip underneath that damned tennis skirt.
And when fingers pressed against your covered core it left you mewling and absolute putty in their hands.
Oh, how Azriel and Eris loved distracting you, leaving your mind empty and wanting — much like the good girl you begged them you were.
“You know you didn't have to pick me up…” you commented, though you couldn't help but be giddy that both of your lovers opted to pick you up from your little hang-out with your friends.
Azriel and Eris were leaning against the black Hearse — Azriel puffing out a cloud of smoke, a lit cigar between his fingers; Eris held a parasol, shielding himself from the sun. The two men were very stoic but immediately softened at the sight of you practically skipping towards them.
Eris cooed and opened his arms, and you hopped into them, arms wrapping around his waist while his free hand tangled into your locks, lips brushing at the crown of your head.
The two of you were lost in hushed whispers — mostly Eris asking how your little hang out and if you had fun — while Azriel just watched with a fond smile on his features. Two of his favorite and most beloved people — right there.
Cobalt hues shifted from the two of you towards the group of friends that you hung out with today. Azriel knew — oh how he knew — that your so-called friends weren’t too fond of you.
Even now he could hear them whispering how strange you were for being part of a throuple. Eyes wandering your form that was practically engulfed by Eris’s large form. And when those judgmental eyes caught with his own, Azriel glared at them and watched them scamper off in fear — all except one.
A boy whose eyes were not on him — but on you. One full of lust and want, a look that Azriel didn't like. He watched those lecherous gazes run up and down your form, the boy’s tongue sticking out to lick his lower lip.
How absolutely disgusting.
Azriel grunted softly, displeased with the development of the day. He wasn’t too fond of lingering gazes your way — his precious angel, being ogled at from afar, especially in such a lewd way. At the grunt from his husband, Eris’s amber hues looked up in a questioning gaze. Azriel didn’t need to glance at his husband, didn’t need to communicate verbally, his gaze said everything Eris needed to know.
Eris’s lips did not move from the crown of your head, his movement inconspicuous to you who was babbling on how your day went. When amber eyes glanced at where his husband was looking at with a cold gaze, Eris felt his chest roar with fire.
Eris gently pulled away, lifting your chin so he could press a kiss on your lips, feeling your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck. You were so lost in the kiss that you did not realize that what your lover was doing was a distraction.
Azriel sent his shadows forth, watching them skim across the concrete toward the boy, who feebly tried to run away from them. Before a yell could escape his lips, the shadows consumed him, making him disappear into thin air.
Only Azriel and Eris knew where the shadows would have brought him.
Eris hummed into the kiss, pleased with what his husband did before pulling away from the kiss, amber hues looking over your spaced-out look. How adorable were you. “Time to go home, my morose… The pups are in the back waiting for you…” he said with a smirk.
He watched you return to Earth, hearing how the hounds were in the back seat, and he let you scramble out of his hold and hop into the back seats, where the two large black hounds greeted you with face licks, you squeal in delight as you closed the door behind you.
“Will you be joining us later, mon cher?” Eris mumbled, knowing exactly where his husband would be later that evening.
Azriel let out a deep chuckle, leaning over to kiss him briefly, “Keep our girl preoccupied… I’ll be there as soon as possible… Oh, and make sure you make her moan loud, I would love to hear how well you take her from the cellar…”
Eris smirked, opened the passenger seat, and slipped in, allowing Azriel to close the door. Ensuring his husband was safely inside, Azriel made his way to the driver seat and drove home — the unwanted guest in the depths of the cellar was waiting for Azriel.
“Doesn't she sound exquisite?” Azriel muttered, head tilted back towards the ceiling, listening to the loud moans and whines that came from the floors above — the sounds practically echoing around them. A pleased sigh escaped his lips before those brows furrowed and looked down at the bloody mess of the room — body parts slewn all over the floor, blood seeping into the concrete wall.
Cobalt hues looked his way and the large bulky man stepped from the shadows, “You know what to do with the body, Cassian…” the male muttered, rolling up his blood-stained sleeves, shoulders rolling back and a sigh escaping his lips.
The large man gave a graceful bow of his head, watching the head of the family turn his heels and head up the winding stairs back up to the main floor.
Cassian was the long-time family butler, large and menacing, he fit well within the weird and strange macabre family. He was used to the bloodthirsty and morbid ways of this family, nothing phased him.
Especially when it came to Azriel and Eris's sweet angel.
Cassian quickly realized that his masters would do practically anything for the girl that caught their eye.
Especially murder.
This wasn't the first time Azriel or Eris had opted to dismember a member of society for (Y/N)… there were far too many people to count at this point for the butler.
And no one would suspect his masters — they were to quick and clean, and his job? Was making sure that evidence was erased, especially after situations like this.
With bleach and cold water in each large hand, he started to clean the cellar, packing each body part into a separate bag — where he'd feed it to the carnivorous plants that Eris loved taking care of.
They do enjoy it when they are fed humans.
👑 General Tag List: @prythianpages . @strangelygreat . @honeybeeboobaa . @pit-and-the-pen
#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fic#azriel x reader#eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader#acotar fanfic#azriel x eris#eris acotar#azris#azris fanfiction
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Thoughts on Wasp? I like the idea of cats joining that turn out that the Clans aren’t great… but also it feels… weird? Like it seems like another “lazy cat bad” on some levels. I don’t mind him not joining the Clans but these “outsider learns they’re not fit for the Clans” things always give me a pause from the Erins. Also interested in how you would handle him!
Moonkitti's video on him is really well worded, if you haven't seen it yet. I do think he's different from the way that other books tend to portray outsiders in that they are saying that he was driven away by the xenophobia of the Clans... but.
They still make him extremely disinterested in Clan life while he's in ThunderClan. I think that was a massive blunder to write, if the thing they're trying to say is "XENOPHOBIA PREVENTS OTHERWISE ENTHUSIASTIC MIGRATION"
It would have hit harder if it was Wafflepaw who tried to run to RiverClan, got assaulted, and then didn't want to be a Clan cat anymore.
Wafflepaw WANTS to be a warrior. Wasp did not. It reads more like Wasp getting hate crime'd was a "last straw" more than THE reason why he won't stay.
That's where you're getting that vibe they're saying "lazy cat bad," imo. It's a bit different from usual, but it still seems like the narrative is saying that Wasp really didn't belong here anyway.
(no, Nightheart's moment where he looks at the camera and says "he could have been fine!" doesn't change that they showed, in their text, with the actions they wrote, that Wasp was not enjoying being part of the Clans anyway. If that was their intended thesis, their writing was sloppy.)
It feels especially weird that Bee didn't go with Frostpaw. Bee was the character with a lot more setup and that strange dream. A lot of people were confusing Bee and Wasp when the book first came out and I don't blame them.
Most importantly, you can't talk about Wasp without also mentioning one of THE worst lines I think has ever been written into a Warrior Cats book. The part where tigerHeartstar says, "Those cats who just committed a hate crime were perfectly good people before the evil dictator took over. If we kill the evil dictator, I'm sure they'll CHANGE BACK"
I'm still REELING. Fuck you MEAAAN "CHANGE BACK????" CHANGE BACK? LIKE BEING A BIGOT IS UNCOMFORTABLE SHOES???
CHANGE BACK... me bringing my evil dollars up to the villain store and exchanging it for racism coins... change back...
So when I get around to it, I'm going to evaluate if Wasp is even actually necessary in the form he's in. BB is already about xenophobia and bigotry and the harm it does. Frostpaw has no shortage of examples to witness what Thistle Law is, and what it does to those excluded from Clan Culture.
When I first made my Family Tree for RiverClan, I actually ended up making Splashstar's MOM, Havenpelt, an ex-rogue. I think seeing him order a hate crime against his own mother would be a LOT more impactful here, actually.
What Frostpaw DOES need is allies and friends. I'm already starting by expanding her little "DND Party," a word I'm using to affectionately refer to some cats who will be following her home from her pilgrimage to the Park. 99% chance that Nightheart is going to become a permanent member of this party, joining RiverClan at the end of ASC. Waffle will be another. She'll probably also pick up a Tribe cat.
Wasp will be on this party, but I won't decide what happens to them until I see what that last book has in store. Who knows, he might come back (though I hope not, run as far away from these ghouls as possible Wasp!!)
#asc spoilers#wasp#Wasp wc#warrior cats analysis#ThunderClan is NOT keeping Wafflepaw they couldn't even use Stormcloud!!!#So help me GOD I will REPURPOSE a name from somewhere and macgyver a son for Stormcloud who can take Waffle's roles in thunderclan#I REFUSE TO LET THIS SERIES FORGET STORMCLOUD#IM GIVING HIM SOOO MANY COOL THINGS IN BB WRAAAAAAAAAAAAHH
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I Think He Knows: (Chapter Five)
Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?
Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,197
Warning: Language, fingering, oral sex female receiving, horny reader, fuzzy feelings, pining!
A/N: Srry for the late update!! I struggled a bit with this chapter! But I hope y'all enjoy it!! 😘💚💚
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
Sharing a bed with Geto was normal for you. He was always so courteous, snuggling when keeping his hands to himself. You always loved that about him. But as you lay in your bed, eyes focused on the morning rays of light peeking in through your blinds, you wished his hand wasn't under your pillow as he snored behind you. His other arm was draped over your body, his hand limply dangling close to your crotch, leaving a warmth tingling between your thighs.
Something was burning in your gut, a desire you’d never felt. You wanted Suguru to touch you and make you feel like he did the night before. To feel his lips on yours, to have his hand in your pajamas. Something had awakened inside you, and you weren't sure what to do with it.
A frantic feral desire urged you to rock back against your best friend. To have him touch you, kiss you, do so many other things to you. But how could you ask him to do that?! He was helping you with your book! Why the fuck were you being so weird? Why was your pulse racing? And why did you feel so wet?
Clutching your pillow, you fought against the urge to grab his hand and lead it between your legs. God, something was wrong with you. Amid your mental breakdown at eight in the morning, Suguru shifted, groaning as he moved his hips closer to you, making a slight moan sound in your throat. That sound, the feeling of your damp shorts, and the heat of Suguru’s body made you realize what was going on.
You were horny.
This yearning, the desire to have him touch you, the need to cum, was driving you insane. You shifted and squirmed, bringing your fist to your mouth and biting down on your knuckles. Of course, the first time you wake up uncomfortably horny is when Suguru is with you! You couldn’t just start rubbing your clit with him holding you or ask him for help. Because he wasn’t teaching you this ‘stuff’ because you were together, it was for research! You’d have to take care of this yourself!
Slowly lifting Suguru’s arm off you, you began inching towards the edge of the bed, but a hand grabbed you by the back of your tank top, pulling you back down. You yelp as his lark arm snakes around your waist, turning you so you are facing him, and god, he was a sight to wake up to in the morning.
Dark hair spilled out over your pillow; his eyes were slightly opened, dark irises searching your face as he licked his lips. He looked so fucking good; it made your wet shorts even wetter as he gently smiled, reaching out to brush back strands of your bed-messy hair. Your lips part before you shakily sigh, giving him your friendliest smile that doesn’t scream, ‘Touch me more!’.
“Good morning.” The tone of your voice is more breathier than you would have liked.
“Mornin’.” His voice is so grave and low that sounding that good this early morning should be illegal! “Where are you running off to?”
“R-running off!” You stutter, nervously laughing as you gently pat his chest. “W-What? Haha—no—no.” His chest vibrates with a low chuckle at your shy tone, and his muscles tense, leaving you wanting to touch him more.
Suguru’s hand rests on your hip, and he can feel you slightly jerk as if you are sensitive to his touch. Did you not want that? Maybe he should have checked before touching you so casually like that. Suguru slides his palm back, letting it dangle behind you instead.
The sudden lack of his touch makes your heart pot as you clear your throat. “Do you want to go get breakfast?” Suguru asks before clearing his throat. “Or do you have to get back to rewrites?” God, breakfast with him sounded so good, but you had so much editing to do. Plus, it didn’t help that you wanted to do nothing more than lie in bed with him and touch each other more.
Is fondling each other on the menu?
Suguru stiffens, and your eyes widen as he stares at you. Did you say that out loud? You open your mouth as he pulls back, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Oh my god—” he says softly. “Sorry, I probably—”
“I-I didn’t mean it!”
Suguru blinks, cocking an eyebrow, as you sit up. “Huh?” You realize you did not say anything when he just stared at you.
“I-I—”
“I was saying I should probably brush my teeth. What were you thinking about?” The smug tone in his voice has you scurrying away. You weren't sure what you were thinking. Because seeing you so flustered and jumpy had him following you close. A grin on his face as you scrambled out of bed towards the kitchen. “Where are you going? Come back here~!”
“I-I’m gonna make breakfast!”
Something in the way you rushed to the kitchen made Suguru’s heart swell. He flopped back down in bed, grinning happily. Suguru pictured waking up in bed with you, making breakfast, and being domestic. God, he could get used to this.
But if he wanted this to continue, he'd have to come clean and say that he didn't want to be your friend; he wanted to be more than that.
He'd get to that point eventually. For now, this was
good enough for him. Helping you out, in a strange way, was helping him build up the confidence to confess to you. Hopefully, he can do it before you leave for Europe.
Breakfast was terrific, omelets, coffee, and fresh berries. It was you, that was so strange. Suguru watched you closely, taking in how you shifted and kept your eyes on your plate.
“Hey,” he finally couldn't stand the standoffish behavior anymore as you stabbed a strawberry with your fork. “Are you okay?”
Oh, you were okay, aside from the undeniable horny fire and heat burning between your legs. “I’m fine, just tired.” Suguru didn't look at all pleased with your answer.
“Is it about last night?”
“Last night? No, it’s just got a lot going on.” in your shorts. “With the rewrites and plotting.” you took a bite of the juicy berry with a sigh.
“Oh, is there anything I can do to help out?”
If he could make you cum again, yes, he was more than welcome to do that. “No, I think I have enough uhm—” you cleared your throat, motioning between you both, “notes~ to help me with the next few chapters.” In reality, you wanted to do nothing more than stay in bed and have him show you what else he could do, like with his tongue and his coc—.
“Did—did I go too far last night?” You choked on a blueberry, eyes watering as Suguru looked off. You coughed and chugged down some coffee, trying to clear your throat. “Oh, shit? Are you okay?!” He jumped up, heading around the other side of the table, smacking your back as you coughed up the berry.
That was not what you wanted to choke on.
“Fuck—” you wheezed out, clearing your throat, “Oooh fuck.”
Suguru’s hands slid up, gently rubbing your shoulders, making you whine. “You okay?” His thumbs dug into your stiff muscles, kneading the soreness away.
“Mmm~ I'm good now.” you learned back, moaning softly. “A-And ahh~ to answer your question, you didn't go too far last night.”
“Oh, okay, good.” you could feel the relief in his touch as he squeezed your shoulders harder. “So, can I ask why you've been jumpy all morning?”
“No, you may not.”
“You’re no fun.”
You tilted your head back, staring at Suguru as he squeezed and massaged you. “I think you had a lot of fun with me last night.” Both his hands froze.
The tension from the night before began to build as Suguru smirked his hands, leaving the back of the chair and turning it for you to face him. He knelt so you were eye to eye, his bed-messy hair tied up in a bun, but his bangs fell in his face. Why did he have to look so perfect? So fucking glorious? Seeing him like this, cocky and knowing, had you pressing your thighs together.
You might not be able to actively tell him what you want. That was too embarrassing, especially when it was to benefit your book. But opening the door for him to make suggestions for you possibly wasn't something you were opposed to. Getting Suguru worked up might be the best way to get what you want without ruining your friendship.
“If I remember correctly, you had as much fun with me as I did with you.”
“Mmmm, if I remember correctly, you jerked yourself off mostly; I just rested my hand on top of yours.”
He closed the distance between you, his hands resting on top of your bare thighs. “Funny, I remember you pulling my hand off and jerking me off until I came all of your hand.” Your breath came out as heavy as his fingers slid under the edge of your shorts. “Is that why you’re so jumpy? Thinking about last night?” His whole hand slid underneath the edge of your shorts,
“M-Maybe—”
“Mm, soo if I did something like I don’t know—“ his hands slid to the inside of your thighs, “like this.” Suguru forced your legs open, making you gasp. “I wouldn’t see a wet spot on those pretty purple shorts?”
You knew there was a wet spot. You panted heavily, watching as Suguru's eyebrows rose at the sight of your arousal. Those dark eyes trailed up your body before he began massaging your thighs. They moved in slow circles up to where your thigh and hip connected.
“You’re soaked.”
“I am.”
“Thinking about your book?”
No, you weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “Yeah, thinking about the next chapter Sugu.” His fingers drew closer to your throbbing, dripping sex.
“Yeah? Need a little more help with research? I’d be happy to help; it’s for your book, after all.” Yeah, your book and nothing more than that. “So tell me, what happens in the next chapter?”
“Ilsan, uhm, licks her. Wanna help me?”
Suguru licks his lips, grabbing your shorts, hooking them under his fingers, revealing your dripping cunt to him. Suguru can’t help but groan, his fingers pulling your shorts off to the side as far as he can to get a good look at your pussy. It’s so wet and twitching with anticipation. He leans in, gently blowing in your sex with a grin as you jump.
“Princess,” he says in a deep, primal voice, “allow me to help you.”
“H-Huh?!” You flush as he tugs you towards the edge of the chair. “S-Sugu!”
“Shhh~ I got you.”
His tongue darted out between his perfect, pretty lips, licking at your folds. The sensation of his tongue running up and down your slick slit, your eyes rolling back. You thought last night with his hand felt good. This was a whole new level. His gentle, slow, and teasing, you cry out in ways you had never done before.
“O-Ohhh shit.” Your head tilts back as Suguru science, his tongue up higher and higher until the tip meets your clit. “Nnngh!!” You screamed much like you had last night, but this time, your whole body jerks forward.
Suguru groans against you, tasting your sweet, sticky essence, his eyebrows furrowing together and pure concentration. He doesn’t want to lose himself in your taste. But fuck is that hard to do. Tasting you, hearing you, being the one pleasuring you, had his dick throbbing in his pants.
He wanted to hear more of you, to make you scream, to taste you when you came on his tongue. So he slid his tongue down, caressing your entrance with a groan before sliding it inside of you. You squeaked, gripping his hair and tugging on the dark strands as he shoved his tongue deep inside of you, his eyes rolling back as he lapped and teased your walls. The sweet tang of your juices flooded his mouth like the most decadent wine. If it weren’t for your taste alone, your sounds would have urged him to continue to lap at you as if you were his last meals
Your fingers gripped the long, dark strands of hair as you felt your eyes fill with tears. The feeling of his tongue was much more intense than you ever imagined. You felt so full as his nose brushed against your clit, rubbing it as he furiously ate your pussy. It felt like you couldn’t breathe as Suguru ate the life out of you.
“S-Suguru!” You cried out, trying to close your legs around his head as the pleasure became almost too intense for you to handle. “S-Sugu! Suguru, p-please I-It’s so intense.”
“Mmmpmh—” he moaned into you as you clamped your thighs around him harder. “Mmm, princess, gotta stop that—trying to help you~.”
“I-It’s r-really intense!” You yelped as his tongue pressed up against your g-spot. “Oooh fuuuck! Su-Suguru!”
“Want me to stop?” His tongue flicked devilishly over your swollen clit. “I can.”
Your legs squeezed harder around his head. “D-Don’t stop! Please, I—” In one swift movement, Suguru yank your shorts down, holding them just above your knees. Your body curves as your ass is being lifted, causing your back to lean awkwardly against the back of your chair. It’s almost like he has you in a forty-five-degree angle. “S-suguru! A-Ahh!” His mouth latches onto your clit, sucking on it gently as he shoves two fingers inside of you, curling them up against your g-spot as he holds your legs up by your shorts.
Fuuuck why was this so hot? Your body felt like it was melting as you grabbed onto the sides of the chair, clinging to it for dear life. The man knew what he was doing, and he did it well. Between his mouth and his tongue, he left you a babbling, heaping mess of twitching limbs.
The low whimpers and the way you jerked against his mouth had Suguru humming around your sensitive clit. He was determined to make you feel so good that no one would compare. So with his eyes focused on your’s he curled his fingers inside of you, rubbing your g-spot as he sucked roughly on your clit. Your pretty eyes went wide, mouth falling agape into an ‘O’ as you focused your attention down.
”S-Suguru—wait a second!” The coil in your abdomen was tightening, like the night before, but it felt different. “Oh wait, wait—“ He pulled away from your twitching bundle of nerves, tilting his head to the side to look at you. “I uhm—I think I’m going to cum—“
”Cool, cum on my face.” He goes to bury his face between your thighs, only for you to pull away just a bit. “It’s okay—I want you to—“
“N-No, that’s not it! I feel different!”
”Different?”
”Yeah, I need to pee—so maybe we should stop.”
After hearing you say something like that, there was no way in hell he was stopping now. “You’re not going to pee; just let it go, princess.” Without so much as an explanation, Suguru’s mouth is back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit like it is the tastiest candy he’s ever eaten.
“S-Sugu!’ His fingers rub your g-spot, massaging the spongy tissue, making your toes curl as your chest heaves. “Fuck, oooh fuck, Suguru, please!” Your legs are shaking as he feels your walls fluttering around his middle and ring finger. “Please, fuck ohhhh fuck please!”
You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but Suguru did. He picked up the speed of his fingers fucking into you as his mouth continued suckling your pretty clit. Toes curled as your eyes rolled back into your head. You had always wondered if getting eaten out was as good as it looked. From the one time you walked in on Suguru in the past, you assumed it was good. But now you were beginning to wonder if it was just getting eaten out that felt so good or if it was Suguru. If you were a betting woman, you would spend all your money on it, being Suguru.
The man was licking and lapping at you like it was his job. Like he was at risk for a promotion, making sure he put all his effort into it. It wasn’t just his technique that got you trembling and crying out; it was his pure enthusiasm that was getting to you. He was enjoying this as much as you were and wasn’t even getting touched.
That in itself was true; Suguru did love eating pussy, but never in his whole sexual experience had he ever gotten this into it. He was swirling his tongue, dipping it down to lap at the ring of slick forming at the base of his fingers. He never thought he would get the chance to be like this with you. And now that he had been given an opportunity to taste you firsthand.
He wasn’t sure he could ever let you go now.
Not when you. were screaming his name, one hand gripping the side of the chair while the other grabbed his bun, yanking it as your legs violently shook in the air above him. You were so close, oh so fucking close, he could taste it. His tongue started working faster, his fingers following their lead, slamming into you until you saw stars. Your back arched off the chair, a silent scream forming in the back of your throat as you inhaled sharply.
The coil in your lower stomach snapped with a release of pressure. Screaming his name as you came as a stream of clear liquid splashed against his face. His cock twitched twice before he felt himself cum; feeling and tasting your release had sent him over the edge. He was so into it that he dropped the hold of your shorts, freeing his hands to grab your hips, pulling you tighter against his mouth, allowing him to drink everything you were giving him in entirely. His mouth worked you through your most intense orgasm (your second one), not stopping until your legs were shaking and your hands were trying to push his head away from your oversensitive sex.
“Haaah—haaaah—“ you wheezed from the chair, your hands resting against Suguru’s head as he finally pulled away. “Oh, fuuuck.”
Your best friend chuckled, nipping gently at your inner thighs before he helped tag your pajamas back up your legs. “Feel good?” He asked as he gently massaged your upper thigh, trying to ground you as you came down from your high.
“Felt so fucking good.” You slowly slid out of the chair, joining him on the ground. “That felt so good.”
“It looked like it did, and hey, looks like you’re a squirter, that’s fun.”
Your cheeks burned as you noticed the mess of droplets on his shirt before covering your face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I could do that.” His hands gently grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away.
“Don’t apologize for feeling good, I loved seeing you cum like that.”
“That’s good to know, uhm so—“ You pulled your hand away from him, sliding it up to grope his thigh. “Can I help you? Maybe you could tell me how to use my mou—” Suguru’s hand grabbed your wrist again, halting your advances toward his crotch. For a second, you thought maybe he wasn’t interested, but from the flush that spread over his cheeks, you assumed it was something else.
“I uhm—I came already.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, I came while eating you out,” he motioned to the wet spot on the front of his shorts. “But thank you for offering.”
“Oh,” you were slightly disappointed, “Okay, well, uhm.”
Suguru interrupted your lack of words with a happy hum. “Are you free on Friday?” You blinked before nodding.
“I just have a meeting with Utahime to give her the newest chapter, but I’m free after that.”
“Great, how about dinner at my apartment on Friday night? Then, if you’re up to it, we could go over more ‘stuff’ for the book.”
You beamed up at him, nodding your head. “That sounds like a plan! I’ll make dinner.” His hand reached out, caressing your head with a fond smile as he shut his eyes.
Things between you two didn’t change after he returned home. You both were busy, so you didn’t have much time to hang out in the next few days. While you worked on your rewrites, he was busy working on a couple of commissions. But you always found time to text each other, ensuring the other was taking breaks and drinking plenty of water. Things weren’t different at all.
Aside from the fact you found yourself grinning like an idiot at your phone each time he would text or call you. For the first time in the years that you had been friends, you felt your heart race every time he’d text you. Was it the research you both had been doing? Or was it something more?
Even more strange was that you wanted it to be something more. You should have been terrified about a couple of folding sessions ruining your friendship, but you weren’t. What was happening between you and Suguru felt so natural and genuine. Like you both were growing and for the first time in your relationship, you were growing closer together.
That in itself was both terrifying and exciting.
Friday afternoon finally came around, and you were grinning at your phone
Suguru: Tell Utahime you have a date 😩 why does she need to read your rewrites in person?
You kicked your feet under the booth. He was so cute when he was impatient. With a quick bite of your lip, you quickly shot him back a messages
You: because she’s my agent. And strange, you never said my coming over was a date. 😏
Suguru: We’re eating food, drinking wine, and are going to snuggle. It’s a date with your best friend, as always. 🙄
You were about to ask what he would say if you wanted it to be a ‘date date’ when Utahime slammed the papers you handed her down. You winced quickly, putting your phone away. Her eyes were glued on the pages before she smiled wide, leaning back in the booth.
“This is some of your best work yet. It felt so real! Your writing has improved!”
It was funny how a little experience could go a long way! “Thank you. I had some help.” You glance back down at your phone.
“Oh my god, I’m so excited to see what you have planned for Oaklynn and Ilsan next! Can you get me the next couple of chapters in two weeks?”
“You got it!”
Utahime straightened the papers, sliding them into a binder before getting up. “Keep up the good work, sweetie; this will be big!” You followed her, fixing your bag. “Seriously, whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”
“Oh, I plan it, by the way. About the cottage, could you maybe do me a huge favor and ask the owners if it would be possible for me to stay a month? Uhm, I don’t need to stay the full two years.”
Utahime eyes you, fixing her baseball cap before chuckling as she flags down her Uber. “I’ll see what I can do for you.” She approached the back door and opened it. “They must be special.” Cocking a brow at your agent, you blink several times as she gets in the back.
“What do you mean?”
“Whoever had you grinning at your phone like a teenage girl. They must be special if they’ve become your muse. I’ll see you later!”
Utahime was right; Suguru was important to you. He always had been, and he always would be. He had been selfless enough to offer to help you when you needed it most, seemingly leading to a more profound relationship between you.
That prospect of what might come to be had you happily skipping back to your apartment building to the third floor. Tonight might be the best night to tell him how you had been feeling and how you wanted this best-friend date to be more of an actual date. The unknown was terrifying and exciting as butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you knocked on his door. As the door creaked open, you adjusted the brown bags full of groceries for your dinner.
“Oh,” a woman’s voice scoffed, “it’s just you.”
Your stomach dipped as Manami Suda leaned against the doorframe, looking down at you as if you were garbage. You usually liked a lot of people and rarely had issues with anyone. Manami Suda was the one person you couldn’t stand in the world, but you had to put up with her because she was Suguru’s agent.
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My Headcannons for Yoichi Isagi, Rin itoshi and Alexis Ness💕
Might not be accurate
💗💗💗
Yoichi Isagi :
✿He took a photo once of his hair slick back and his fan went absolutely feral.
✿He time to time stalks Rin to observe what he does.
✿Isagi probably stares at the ceiling when he's about to sleep and think about all of the opportunities he missed.
✿If he played any other sports it would be chess, since his vision is great for mental games.
✿Tbh is he was a sin he would be greed/gluttony.
✿If he could ask anything from his parents, it would be to have a little sis.
✿Does skin, body and hair care every few days.
✿Swears in videos games often. Those little brats think they're so gOoD but once isagi finishes his puzzle he'll devour them
✿Tried to hit Kaiser in the head with the ball after a practice match, but Noel Noah was there
✿Gossips with kurona and hiori about kaiser and ness, It's perfect since kurona doesn't know what they're doing but hiori has a lot of dirt on them.
Boyfriend Headcannons💤
♡Plays football w/ u and teaches you by beating you, not even to destroy your self esteem.
♡ such a sweetheart while you are on your menstrual cycle (if you're a girl)
♡ gossip about every teammate with you, like a whole book of players he wants to gossip to you about
♡ once you were sick, he drove to the local store at 2 am just for you. He's so sweet.
♡ Cooks very well like he'll cook food decently
♡ Not that toxic? Maybe that's probably up for debate
♡tells you about his problems like it's the national news to be discuss
♡ Has that romantic playlist he made just for you and him to enjoy.
♡Due to being in blue lock he hasn't texted you often so in return he tries to send gifts every month
♡ Calls you darling and sweetheart multiple times a day
Rin itoshi
✿Drools in his sleep (Me too Rin)
✿I feel like he'll stand awkwardly in a party not even interacting with anyone
✿Is good at cleaning, not barou level but up there
✿Perfect grammar, also TOP at his English
✿Never uses any gen-z/alpha slangs or any type of slang infact
✿Dry ass texter...
✿Gets really weirded out by any of his THOSE fangirls/fanboys... Like wdym you wanna have the reproduction LIKE HE'S ONLY 16
✿Knows knife play at some point, don't ask him why (he doesn't know)
✿Artistic in secret... Like he'll paint the beach or anything that shows the happy times of him and sae
✿Gets nightmares of that day... (Pretty sure everyone has that headcannon by now)
Boyfriend Headcannons💤
♡Cuddles every time he gets a chance with you. That kinda prevents him from getting those dreams....
♡ even if he's not as romantic as the others, you guys still go on weekly dates and THEY are expensive or just casual date like movie date🫶
♡After getting traumatized by sae, he almost broke up with you, Thank goodness, that you manage to make him snap out of it.
♡ After getting convinced by your and his parents he went to couple counseling and saw his mistakes
♡One of his favorite things to do with you is Playing football, I mean two things he loves in one? Count him in!
♡ Bring extra clothes with him whenever you're around, just in case it gets cold and he doesn't need to give you his hoodie.
♡Does not have much of a soft spot for you BUT, his eyes sparkle whenever he sees you like the good old times
♡ Almost made you cry when you both were on a movie date, it was those scary ahh movies that you don't know what's coming next.
♡Has a separate Love notebook from his early days of middle school that he reads when he misses you.
♡Calls you lukewarm as a word of affection when he sees you
Alexis ness
✿Would probably be in good terms with isagi if it didn't end like this
✿Has a mental breakdown every few days because of kaiser paying too much attention to isagi
✿Makes Kaiser a birthday cake every year and even bought him EXPENSIVE stuff from his hometown
✿Keeps the magician outfit he had when he was just a child, he cherish it like it's the most valuable thing in the whole universe
✿Would be friends w/ Charles if they interacted more, I mean like opposite friends, Ya'k
✿If richer than his awful siblings back home, if not then... It's because of the plot.
✿If he didn't met kaiser he'll probably be better than what he is now.
✿Has surprisingly good fashion taste, It's better than most blue lockers I can tell you
✿Has that changing color book lamp at the side of his bed he use when he's upset or just sad
✿He would like science if it weren't for the fact of his childhood
Boyfriend Headcannons 💕
♡Is actually quite the gentleman to you and your family members, since he a very toxic household
♡Always makes your favorite dish, if he doesn't know the recipes he'll find it by your guardian/ by how you like it.
♡Gives you a lot of gifts, I MEAN A LOT like everyday you'll find things that you enjoy at your doorstep
♡Due to being away from blue lock, he gets awfully jealous of the boys around you. Even if it's just a friend
♡Husband material frfr
♡ Punch a dude that was making you uncomfortable, and then ran with you to flee the scene.
♡Prefers the value of affection than the materialistic value of a gift you give him
♡ Loves being the small spoon but if you want, he can be the big spoon, anything for his precious angel.
♡Yandere tendency!!! Whether a girl or boy, he will get jealous if you spend more attention on them than him!
♡Call you angel or any kind of German words of affection, he will use it
That's it y'all💋
Thank you for reading this! It too me longer than expected!
So thank you for staying till the end even tho it was just 3 blue lock characters!
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
#bllk#bllk fluff#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock#blue lock x you#blue lock fluff#rin x reader#bllk imagines#bllk rin#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin#bllk isagi#yoichi isagi#isagi x reader#alexis ness#bllk ness#ness alexis#ness x reader#blue lock headcanons
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