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#fool got too many forms
lostplay · 2 years
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https://www.twitch.tv/videos/600008357
Sometimes zombies don’t stay dead, and other times we catch up on Saturday! It’s time to look back at the time we beat Mega Man X6, it may have been a hard game, but not exactly a hard final boss.
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nmakii · 3 months
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GETTING CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT… LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE
— alastor + lucifer + vox getting caught with lipstick stains all over them…
— generally gn!reader. guys can wear lipstick too smh
hehe i got a new lip tint (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) maybe alastor’s part is a little self-projected
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— alastor
alastor himself isn’t one for physical affection. in fact, the thought itself makes him feel dirty. someone else’s skin against his… eugh…
though, when it came to you, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself; hands clawing and playing with your hair, wrapping his arms around your neck, pinching your cute cheeks, holding your hand… it’s almost as if he’d double-die without you near!
and the only thing he’d enjoy more than that would be having his affection reciprocated; interlocking your arm with his, a surprise hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, they are all more than appreciated! especially the thing about kissing…
a kiss from you is simply just exhilarating. the suddenness yet sweetness of it, it’s truly the purest form of love, regardless of if it’s familial, romantic, or platonic— it’s the purest expression of your love for another person.
so, just imagine alastor’s reaction to your new lipstick, strawberry red to give your lips a glossy color, yet still light enough to appear natural. the pretty hue of red complimenting your face features perfectly by giving it the color it needs as to not appear pale.
absolutely gorgeous. so confusing how a simple amount of color could make you look as if you were an angel from heaven itself. you quite literally took his breath away from just applying a new lipstick…
at some point, alastor had reached some sort of limit when he finally caved into his inner desires, bringing you to a secluded place in the hotel, his hands moving to your hips and hair.
he couldn’t wait any longer to place his lips on your’s, your lipstick smearing all over his thin lips. kissing him from his cheeks to his jawline, leaving light pink stains all over his skin.
he groaned at the feeling of wet lipstick all over his face, and at the same time reveled in the ways you are telling everyone that the only one who could see the radio demon in such a needy and doe-like state would be you; he’d be yours to fool around with, and yours to do however you’d see fit. just as you are his— no one else’s. the smeared lipstick on the side of your lips should send that as a statement enough to whatever lowlife hooligan would even attempt to sweep you off your feet.
when the two of you had returned, it was a strange sight to say the least… alastor’s face and jaw covered with pink lips, and you with your lipstick smudged and smeared off your lips, instead all over you neck.
“well, uh… you two look like ‘ya had lot’sa fun…” angel said monotonously, awkwardly trying to keep up conversation. “ohh, most certainly!” alastor grinned, his transatlantic accent popping through the radio static.
he knows he could’ve wiped it off… he has a handkerchief in his back pocket, he could’ve easily saved himself that awkward conversation.
but, he didn’t.
could you blame him? he wants all of hell to know that both you and him off-limits for good.
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— lucifer
when many imagine the king of hell, it’s hard to think he’d be a social piranha. the same case had gone for you.
who knew lucifer was still as pure of heart as he was during his time in heaven? and who knew he’d fall for someone so easily after the sudden disappearance of his wife?
when he saw you, it was practically love at first sight! your big eyes, your shiny hair, and those big pretty lips of yours that he just wanted to kiss so badly…
he listened carefully as charlie introduced you to him, trying to remember every detail about you and every feature on your face, stuttering over his words once it was time to speak for himself.
and somehow, despite his meekness towards you and your awkwardness whenever he was around, you two ended up in a relationship— with the help of vaggie and charlie’s meddling in pushing you two together.
the two of you loved each other, of course… but it was always hard to express. the only way lucifer knew how to show his love was through his presence and gifts. he wasn’t hell’s greatest kisser, but he tries.
and, today— it was your 5 month anniversary… quite a long time, the hotel’s been good so far, no major threats other than one of cherri bomb’s occasional explosions. and because of how long it’s been, you decided to do something a little special… put on some relatively expensive clothes and make-up your face a little bit.
when lucifer saw you all dolled up, he was honestly a little stunned. lips as red as an apple, hair as soft as silk, the words were stuck in his mouth. “w- er- wow..! i’m not dressed up or anything— agh, this is awkward..” lucifer muttered. “hey, it’s ok… this was a surprise for you, y’know?” you said, comforting him slightly.
“you look… stunning today” he smiled, carefully putting down his anniversary present for you on his work desk, still wrapped in a red ribbon. he made his way to you, hands making their way to your cheeks to softly cup them as he gently leaned into you for a kiss.
he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you kissed his face all over, as if healing the wounds of his past with his present. his banishment into hell, lilith’s abandonment, they all didn’t matter anymore, you are the present and the future.
he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug as he kissed your forehead, the residual lipstick from his lips smeared onto you.
lucifer laughed awkwardly before using his finger to carefully rub off the pink stains on your forehead. “haha… c’mon, i got a dinner reservation in the lust ring tonight…” he laughed, interlocking his arm with yours.
“don’t you wanna take off that lipstick on your face first?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “i mean… i dont minddd… so, it’s only if you wanna take if off” his eyes wandered, his cheeks growing flustered “hmm… nah. i want everyone to know you belong to me now.” you grinned mischievously.
and when the two of you walked out of the hotel lobby, charlie went to wish you a safe trip and happy anniversary before she noticed the stains on her dad’s face. “err… dad..? you gotta a little something there…” charlie muttered as she pointed all over his face. “ah..? yeah, i know” he laughed it off, proudly showing off to hell how hopelessly devoted he is to you.
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— vox
vox was a busy man. from having many public appearances, to coming up with new ideas for voxtek, to putting out valentino’s temper tantrums, he barely had the time for romance.
barely. he loved you, truly. he keeps you dear to his heart, no matter how busy he’d be, vox would still make time for you late at night.
everyone had known you, why wouldn’t they? you’re the partner of one of the most influential overlords in hell, that’s a feat that is amazing to accomplish, dating vox in itself has made you into a sort of local celebrity; causing you to be invited to many galas, parties, and occasional raves.
and tonight happened to be the night of one of those parties. zestial had invited you to a formal dinner party, an all star guest list filled by many of the goetic princes, various overlords in hell, and other local hellborns such as verosika mayday.
“please, voxxx? just this once, it’s only like 3 hours!” you grumble as your apply a coat of ruby red over your lips, checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror. “i can’t.. i have a 5:00 with val and velvette, then after that, a board meeting about new gadgets to release…” vox groaned, already pissed about the day ahead.
“fine then, your loss.” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you left the bathroom and into the bedroom. “holy shit…” vox sighed out. “you look… really good, my love.” he walked over to you, his hands moving to your body, outlining the clothes’ stitching as he recognized it to be the one he had custom-made for you.
your hands rested on vox’s shoulders, forcibly making him lean over a bit before leaving various kiss stains all over his screen.
vox visibly tensed as his screen started glowing a bright teal, showing his clear embarrassment as pink smudges fogged his screen.
his breath heaved as his hands moved all around your body, desperate to find some kind of relief to his pent-up stress.
ending your kiss attack all too soon on his lips, you pulled away, your lips slightly pale now as you grinned at him. “spend the day looking like that and i’ll give you more after work” you winked, taking your belongings and leaving out the door, leaving a flustered vox in your bedroom, covered with lipstick stains.
“vox… the fuck is going on with your face?” velvette snarled. “it looks as if you got fucking mauled by a bear pretending to be a woman.” she yelled, her british accent making her trip over some consonants.
vox sighed, hearing valentino mutter some sort of dirty comparison of vox to a prostitute. “instead of focusing on me, why don’t you put your efforts into our agenda today?” vox frowned, his tone clearly saying that he’s holding himself back from releasing a flood of curses onto the two…
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astaroth1357 · 4 months
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I have long wanted to write a headcanon where high demons have lesser forms, so take a walk with me on this:
Imagine that the brothers are fighting with each other and one of them takes a serious hit, like, somebody's left hook got them right in the jaw and it was brutal. They fall to the ground, stone cold, and... just. Poof into a tiny little critter. Like a verison of their familiar. And they can't retake human form until they've rested and healed their wounds.
I'm doing that.
Lucifer becomes this fat-ass, little peacock. He's like one of those rotund Chocobo from the Final Fantasy universe, you just want to pick him up and squeeze him but he's slightly too heavy for that. His feathers are black, save for the tail which have black, red, blue, and green markings. If something makes him "Poof!" then he'll hide away in the Castle because he refuses to let his brothers ever see him in that state. MC can visit him, though, and he'll coo and get all fluffy whenever they pet his tummy.
Mammon turns into a three-eyed raven, but not fat like Luci. He basically becomes a bigger verison of one of his familiars, he's about the size of an eagle. For being the second strongest he gets "Poof!-ed" rather often because he gets caught up in so many fights. Most of the time, he's just a bystander then some stray shot hits him and suddenly he's squawking everybody's ear off! Hilariously, he's arguably smarter in this form so when he's stuck as a bird, his grades actually improve (if anyone can read his actual chicken scratch penmanship).
Levi becomes a snake. Duh. He has similar markings along his back to the colorful scales on his neck in his demon form. He isn't even the length of your average scarf, so MC can drape him behind their neck easily and he doesn't get in the way. He's absolutely MISERABLE like this, though, because he has no hands to play games with. He can get extra clingy to people if he's feeling cold, but MC has to invite him to share their body heat because he's too shy to signal what he wants.
As much as Satan would love to be a cat, he becomes a little unicorn (Sorry, I didn't make the lore). He's about the size of one of those miniature horses, but don't be fooled. He will snap your kneecaps and he's at perfect height to rear-kick his brothers right in the crotch. His coat is black but his tail, mane, and the underside of his horn are all his signature green. If he every gets "Poof!-ed!" he's big mad, so he'll spend the entire time trying to kick and spear his brothers so they have to suffer along with him. He's the cause of a lot of chain "Poof!-ings."
Asmo becomes the smallest, cutest scorpion you ever did see. Well, as cute as scorpions can be. His whole body becomes hot pink and he has the biggest widdle eyes (think those jumping spiders who wear raindrops on their heads type energy). He's also venomous as all hell, so his brothers HAVE to make sure that they continously call him "small, cute, and adorable" lest they suffer a week's worth of paralytic toxin. He can fit the palm of a hand and makes MC tie a little bow around his tail so he doesn't feel too bad about being under-dressed.
Beel, unfortunately, becomes a fly. A big fly (by fly standards), but a fly nonetheless. You wouldn't even know that it's him if he weren't traffic cone orange. Literally everyone panics when he gets "Poof!-ed" because it would only take some bozo with a swatter to put an end to the sweetest brother... Belphie never lets Beel out of his sight and even has a tiny leash so he can keep track of him if they have to go out. He's a lot easier to feed like this, but everyone has to resist that automatic urge to smack him away from their dinner plates.
Belphie ironically has the largest lesser form out of his brothers. He's a cow, more specifically a bull, but there's nothing special about him aside from the navy fur. He is a full grown bull and he loves to lord it over the others if they all get "Poof-ed!" at once. Also, good luck getting him to do ANYTHING in this form. He is a bull. If he does not want to move, he will not be moving. Not even Beel can carry him like this. He's the only brother who doesn't mind getting "Poof-ed!" all that much because of it.
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kingconia · 9 months
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TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH A READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST FROM THEIR STORIES
A/N: I didn't add Kalim or Jamil, because I feel their storyline is too much Aladdin & Jafar inspired already to do anything else with them.
Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️
— That was definitely a dislike from the first sight. He predicted you to be his future reason of headache as soon as the mirror sent you to the Heartslabyul;
— Riddle sees you as an air-headed fool, who only asks too many unnecessary things, daring to question the wishes of the Red Queen, instead of serving to your dorm as a proper student would do;
— You, from the other side, struggle with understanding what makes Riddle hate you so much. You were nothing but kind towards him, always suggesting to eat some sweets together, and trying to ask him to take a break from his studies to hang out with you or others;
— When he overhears that your signature spell makes you others to tell you the truth, Riddle is... Intimidated. He is afraid that you will use is against him, and so, he starts ignoring you more often.
”Housewarden acts like an asshole towards you, though.”
Riddle doesn't even need to think twice to recognise a loud voice of Ace Trappola, another troublemaker in his form. He knows that he should just give him a punishment and leave for a lesson, but instead, he hides in the nearest bush, waiting to hear the rest of the conversation.
”Oh, Ace. You are being rude,” you mutter softly, sighing at your classmate. ”Perhaps, a housewarden doesn't like me, but this feeling is not necessarily mutual.”
Riddle raises his brows in surprise. Why, though? He is aware that his attitude is nothing but awful when it comes to you. He doesn't have a proper reason for that, either.
”You should, really,” Ace rolls his eyes. ”Dude has a problem with you liking white. And what else? Being nice?”
That isn't true. He is fine with you liking white—though, he admittedly got frustrated when you asked him on your first day why painting roses red, if they are prettier when they are white—and being nice. He just considers you too naive for this world.
”I think, you are... Misjudging him.”
That is right, Riddle mutters mentally. Tell him, Y/n.
”I think, the reason why housewarden is so... Let's say, annoyed by me, it is because I am everything he grew up hating and being restricted with. And it is harder, when something you should never be interested in, is nice and interesting. I think, housewarden is just confused.”
He feels his cheeks blushing furiously.
What did you say—
”And I think you are just being delusional,” Ace chuckles, patting your shoulder softly. ”Now, please, let's get out of here. I want to find Deuce.”
Riddle listens to the sound of your rushing steps, but he can't care less about it now. All he can do, is to recite your words, again and again.
Does he really think you as a nice and interesting?
Yes.
Does it make him hate you even more?
No, but he wishes it could work this way.
Until now, though, he merely returns to his studies. Maybe, you can be honest with yourself and everyone, but this kind of thing is not for him at all.
Leona Kingscholar. 💛
— Leona didn't notice you at first. Honestly, never planned too, until you started to cling to him in some idiotic attempts to be... What? Friends?;
— You remind him so much of Cheka, but he actually likes his nephew deep inside. And your presence is absolutely insufferable;
— You are too childish and annoying, and all you do is sway your tail as you try to befriend him, while pretending that you actually like him. Leona knows you have ulterior motives. Stop lying to him!
— He finds it stupid how someone so moronic as you managed to pull out such an interesting signature spell. Manipulating dreams of others? How cruel.
”Stop doing that,” Leona hisses, digging in your wrist as you try to touch his hair. ”I am seriously going to kill you, if you keep doing this. Do you hear that?!
A few weeks ago—approximately since you figured out your magic—Leona started saw dreams. Very colourful ones, cheerful even. And each, with the same meaning: he becomes the king, and his family and people adores him.
He hates it.
And he hates you for doing that.
Because, of course, he doesn't need your fucking pity. Your condescension. Your gifts. He doesn't need to be mocked!
”Ah? Leona-sama, what is it?” You blink, confused.
”What is your problem, huh?” He hastily jumps on his legs, towering on you. ”Don't you have anything to do? Go and mind your business, brat!”
Your lostness shifts in sadness. You are not scared of him, you are never are—another proof that you don't take him seriously—but you dare to look at him like that. As a kicked puppy.
”What did I do?”
”Stop sending me these stupid dreams! I don't need your pity, do you hear me?!” He yells, still gripping your wrist tightly. ”Go and dream of your family or something, instead, would you?”
”I... I am sorry,” you mumble, and your eyes dart on the floor.
Leona closes his mouth, when realisation dawns on him. You don't have a family to dream about; you are an orphan. Yours, the previous crown family, were killed by his great predecessors.
He doesn't know why he feels bad, when you picked the fight first.
”I will never bother you again, Leona-sama. I apologise.“ You repeat, and your voice suddenly sounds numb.
That is not the sight of you he, or anyone else, was used to. Not a single emotion on your face. You just snatch your wrist from his hold, before leaving him alone as he asked to.
”You are such a jerk,” Ruggie whistles from behind, appearing almost from nowhere.
”Shut up.”
”You know that they can't send any control dreams, right?” He continues, hands on his hips.
”What?” Leona unwillingly turns head on his vice.
”Dunno, but they only can adjust if it is going to be nightmare or a good dream,” Ruggie yawns. ”They are just a first-year, so... It is your brain that decides where is where for now.”
Fuck.
Leona hisses furiously.
He is so fucked up.
Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵
— Oh, so this is love? He notices you in the crowd of other students, as you flinch from loud voices from dynamics, clearly knowing very little of this world, and he is amused. Someone is clearly more social awkward than he is;
— Azul thinks you don't like him that much, though, because you only wave at him, and when he once tried to speak, you merely nodded and smile all the time without answering him properly;
— It is until twins tell him that you don't have a voice. You were brought to this world completely mute, because of the family curse, and though you hear everything, your only way to communicate with others is writing. Or a sign language;
— But if anything gods blessed you is your magic. Everything you touch turns to gold, and that is actually the main reason why you were kept isolated over years. Azul is over heels for you now...
”I am glad that you took time to accept my invitation, Y/n.”
Azul locks his hands together, looking at you with unhidden excitement. He is always too nervous in your company—luckily, you can't read a room—but today is a special day.
You smile at him, instead of answering.
”The reason why I asked you to came here, it is because I have a deal for you,” he continues carefully, weighing his every word. ”Do you see that?”
He points with his finger at the middle of the table. There is very beautiful necklace with pearls and a little seashell, looking quite normal and mundane. You nod again.
”That is something that could break your curse,” he explains, enjoying the way your eyes widen in the poor shock. ”Yes, yes, you heard me right. With that, you could speak easily.”
Azul can't help but soften as you tear up instantly. There is a whole minute, when he fights an urge to give it to you for free, but... He built his reputation too long to break it so easily.
”But, of course, I will need something from you in return.”
You tilt your head in question.
”I...”
I need you to love me.
”...I need you to use your power for my business when it will be required.”
And with that, Azul quickly shoves another contract to you. You blink a few times, but there is no back thoughts in your head. Quickly, as if afraid that he will change his mind, you took the pen, and leave your signature on all places, where it was needed.
Ah... Angelwish, why are you so naive! It kills him! What if he tried to use you? You didn't even read a contract! You really should be glad that Azul loves you so much.
Before he realises that, you are already putting a necklace on yourself.
One second, two. Three.
You are staring at him.
”Well?” He asks, anxiously.
”A... Azul?”
His heart drops.
Your voice is amazing. And hearing you saying his name is even better than he expected. He blushes.
”Azul... Thank you?”
”S-sure.”
Seems, like it is his turn to be speechless...
Vil Schoenheit. 💜
— He originally had nothing against you... Until other students didn't start to call you the most beautiful person in the world, following you everywhere obsessively, and suggesting you to become the next housewarden;
— Vil now officially hates you. Each time you come to him ends up with short anger impulses that he hardly hides from you, and he wishes you could just disappear;
— He is quite... Cruel with you. He wants you to change your dorm, actually, so he desperately pushes you to the edge by giving you impossible tasks to fullfil, and turning others against you;
— And he thinks your signature spell, speaking and controlling animals is another proof that you should leave Pomefiore for Savanaclaw.
“I don't think you are stupid, un petit entraîneur.”
Vil narrows his eyes, leaning slightly forward from his balcony. The sight of his vice speaking with you—hunter's interest in you was his another concern—annoys him instantly.
”What do you mean, Rook?” There is a big cat in your lap, clearly another of your minions.
”You know that our dear housewarden wants you out of here,” he murmurs, moving closer to you. ”A fair exchange with Savanaclaw, I would say. He doesn't like you here.”
You sigh.
”I figured it out, trust me. He made it very clear by always putting me in dangerous situations and giving me outdated products for skin, making me look like a fool in front of others.”
You don't mention how he makes you clean dark and messy rooms of other students.
”Yet, you are not willing to give up?” Rook touches the strand of your hair curiously.
”You know, I actually liked him a lot,” you admit suddenly, patting the cat behind its ear. ”Vil was the world for me. I was so amazed by him. By how collected he was, how hard he worked. I was excited to become his student... I wished to show him what he is worthy of. That others see his hard work.”
Vil's breath hitches. He remembers you mentioning that you were his fan, but he punished you for this remark; he didn't need to be so violently degraded. But... Was it a truth, then?
”...It is in the past now. I witnessed his true colours, and I will not tolerate it,” your smile twists in something more vicious, a ghostly fondness leaving your pretty face. ”He doesn't need to be scared of me being better anymore. Because I am going to be so much worse.”
He shudders as he hears that, your voice cold, and eyes gleaming dangerously. And as if Rook addresses him, he sighs suddenly, with the strange excitement in his voice:
”Oh, mon doux karma. What had you done?”
Idia Shroud. 💙
— From the minute you open your mouth in his presence , Idia knows he will hate you desperately... It is not serious, though;
— You are unbelievably loud, and too cheerful, and too proud, and you are so self-centred? Also, a fucking bimbo. Idia has no idea why everyone so into you, and what you are even doing in Ignihyde! Go away!
— You annoy him so much, and he actually hates the way you try to befriend him and make him more normie! Stop be like that! You are not welcome!
— Idia is absolutely not impressed that your signature spell is an instant tactics creation. Fuck you, by the way.
“You do know, that doors exist, right?” Idia hisses, not even stopping his game to spare you some attention.
”I do!” You say, climbing through the window with a loud thud.
”Then, why don't you use them, idiot?!”
Idia has no the slightest idea why anyone, let alone you of all people—he means, since you genuinely think that it is healthy to spend all your time outside of the room—would want to become his friend. But here you are. Trying to befriend him for a month already.
”Because you never open the door, Idia-sama,” you shrug easily.
”Take a hint, maybe.”
You close the window behind yourself, taking place behind his chair. Putting elbows on it, you hum thoughtfully, glancing from Idia to the screen of the computer, where the game flashes on. Another few minutes, and familiar yelps fill the room:
”Shit!”
Game over.
”Idia-sama,” you frown, ”maybe, I can help you?”
Idia snickers, rubbing his tired eyes. As if.
”Have you ever played this game, even?”
”No,” you murmur shyly, scratching the back of your neck. ”But I am good at tactics. And it is combat game, correct?”
Idia ponders for a while. That is surprising, because... You are actually absolutely correct. For once.
”Sit down, first year,” Idia exclaims, suddenly excited. ”I am going to teach you how to play this game.”
You smile widely, doing as it was told.
Finally, you cracked the code! And they said you weren't for this dorm...
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— Of course, he missed you as the new student at first, since he forgot to arrive at the orientation day. But it is not that long as he starts hearing others praising you, Lilia especially;
— You are quickly becoming the part of the school life as everyone loves you, and calling you ’the heart of the school’. And while Malleus wants to befriend you, too... He also can't help but feel envious of how easy it is for you. The socialization;
— You are quick to fall asleep everywhere, much like Silver. And since Malleus can't find courage to speak to you, he wanders around, when you are asleep at the strangest places, instead;
— When the first overblot incident happens, your signature spell kicks in. To everyone's horror, it is absolutely terrifying. Your magic is about thorns. Thorns, that wrap around Riddle's weakened body, when he touches you. He almost dies. And the same thing happens with Ace, who accidentally brushes your skin. Now... Everyone shun you away.
”Hello, Malleus-sama,” you mutter, eyes sleepy as you look around. ”I apologise.”
Malleus doesn't quite mind you falling asleep in the class, where his gargoyle's researches are going currently. He is the only member, anyway. But he nods.
”I had never seen you here before,” he notices in a poor attempt of the small talk.
You shrug.
”There is no other students here. And it is better for me not to show up around them.”
What a familiar thinking process... Somehow, he finds it easier: to approach you know, when you are not everyone's favourite anymore.
”I see. You can stay, then. I am not welcomed by them either, so no one is going to enter this classroom.”
You offer him a smile. It is short, strained at the edges, but still sweet. Malleus thinks he understands how you so easily charmed others in the last months; you are much like sunshine, when you are happy. It is a shame you are not, anymore.
”You know, Malleus-sama, I always wanted to become your friend,” you admit suddenly, making him open his eyes in surprise. ”And, I think, you wanted to be mine friend, too.”
You? Why would someone like you want to have him as your friend?
”And why would you think that?”
You fold arms on your chest slowly.
”You are always here, when I am sleeping,” Malleus feels blush touching the tips of his pointy ears. You elaborate. ”I am not sure people realise, but I sleep too much not only because I am lazy, but also because I feel surroundings better like this. I remember everything I hear in my sleep, and I do feel if someone is around.”
Ah. So, that is the secret of yours. And he wondered how you master in all your classes, when you sleep all the time...
”...I see,” Malleus mutters, ashamed. ”I apologise, then.”
He reminiscences of how often he whispered you some nonsense when you slept—childish complaints about how he hates you for being so easily loved by others, random poems that came to his mind as he sat down by your side, stories from his childhood—and feels like disappearing in the shame wouldn't be that bad.
”You know, Malleus-sama, you and I... We are not so different. We both do what we have to do to keep our loved ones to ourselves,” you sit down on the couch beside him slowly. ”But it leads only to one thing.”
Malleus gazes at you curiously as you suddenly curl on his lap, much like a cat. Your eyes met as he helps you to settle more comfortably.
”To destiny?” He asks aloud, tilting his head.
”To pain.”
There is a beat of silence in which your smile suddenly appears to be more bitter, less serene. Malleus doesn't know what happened with you in details, and how awfully these changes in your reputation affected on you, but he can say that it was hard.
”Now, if you don't mind, and I believe, you don't, Malleus-sama, I would like to dream a little bit.” You warn him, already closing your eyes, not really waiting for the answer.
Still, Malleus nods. Though that is not something you can see.
”Sleep, then... Beastie,” he sighs, patting your hair gently.
You snicker, before your breath slows down, alarming that you completely drifted off.
Malleus stares at you openly now.
Ah, who would've thought? He had finally made a friend.
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Part two with Leona & Vil is here.
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maroonsoul · 4 months
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cw : sub!afab!geto, dom!male!reader, dirty talk, degrading, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, kind of free use kink?.
additional note : felt the need to get mean and he was the best victim.
it all started when you simply came back from a long day at work, expecting a few cuddles from your boyfriend Suguru who stayed home that day. until you heard familiar sounds coming from your shared bedroom.
what a sight it was ; dildo glued to your desk that was creaking at every stupid bounce from your boyfriend who was panting, eyes closed and trembling from the effort. you leaned your shoulder on the doorframe and admired the show for a few minutes, staying completely silent as your crotch tightened.
Suguru was completely out of it, hair loose and wearing nothing but an unbuttoned blouse that dramatically fell over one single shoulder. how lucky you were to have this angel of a man completely at your mercy. “what did I say about jerking off while i’m at work ?” you say calmly.
he stops his movement and drops down the dildo, the tip hitting deep inside his cunt making him fight the urge to let out a lewd moan. his hand was glued to his clit, you guessed he made himself cum multiple times by now. “are you deaf ?” you snorted.
he would love to answer you, really. but the fear mixing up with the adrenaline made him completely unable to get anything out but whimpers. he wanted to explain that this was a mistake ! you must understand, he was so bored and pent up from waiting for your arrival ! surely you could forgive him, right ?
you took a few steps closer, Suguru’s cunt was still filled with the dildo. “did it feel good ? how many times did you cum ?” Suguru nodded dumbly at your words, you chuckled at his state. “get up.” and so he did. he couldn’t really dare to disobey any more orders from you, he couldn’t allow it.
you watched his pussy sliding out of the big plastic dick, as his legs almost gave out you were quick to grab him. he looked up at you, cheeks flushed and eyes glistening with lust. after all this mess he still wasn’t satisfied. “oh my sweet baby. look at you.. you’re all sweaty.” your words were as soft as a feather, this couldn’t be good.
“do you want me to help you ?” he nodded again,
“speak.” you said firmly. “cmon, are you a fucking mutt ?” you grabbed his face strongly, squishing his cheeks together as muffled sounds came out of his mouth.
“he-help me.. please. with this..?” those were the only words Suguru managed to form. you smiled widely and helped him get on top of the mattress. you’d be a fool not to use this as an excuse to get even meaner. he let out soft pants as he tried to steady his breathing pattern and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t completely excited about what would come out of this.
you unbuckled your belt and pulled down your pants just enough so he could see the happy trail on your lower abdomen. Suguru’s cheeks flushed at the sight, as if it was the first time you two ever got intimate. you slowly got on top of him, both your arms caging him and your eyes devouring his entire body. you lips found their place on his, that were messily trying to answer to your aggressiveness.
he moaned in your mouth while your hand rested on his belly on which you traced circles on with the tip of your index. suddenly, you grabbed both his legs and bent them enough so his cunt was facing your crotch. it wasn’t too complicated to slide inside his pussy, and the feeling was unreal to you. warm and wet just how you liked it.
Suguru panted loudly at the first thrusts, it was so much different from the earlier dildo. your cock fit perfectly, every vein hitting every sweet spots inside him. it filled him up so good he couldn’t even breathe properly, his mouth opening and closing like a complete idiot. while his legs were close to his ears, “feels better doesn’t it baby ?” you cooed and he couldn’t even hear you.
you watched his toned pecs bounce at every movement, his black hair sprawled on the white mattress and his face completely angelic.
“if you were so horny, you could’ve called me. but instead..” Suguru whimpered at one particular thrust. “you decided to act like a cheap whore.” your hands grabbed his hips so tightly he knew it would leave cute red marks the day after. you fastened your pace, admiring how stupid he looked at the moment.
“is that what you are Suguru ? a cheap whore that likes to bounce ?” you said harshly and gently slapped his cheek a few times to wake him up. “answer me you fucking slut.”
but he couldn’t. in the state he was in, he couldn’t form any coherent sentences. you smiled knowing he was too fucked up to answer and kept on thrusting inside him, you felt his cunt tighten around your cock and understood that he was close. if he wanted to feel good, why not give him that ?
so you did, you let him cum first. but you didn’t stop. even if his eyes rolled back, even if his throat let the most dry sounds ever, even if his hair started to stick on his forehead, it didn’t matter. what mattered is that he’d remember that if he acts like a whore, he’ll get fucked like one.
“wanna have my babies Suguru ?~” you let out a fake smile and came inside his puffy cunt with a long moan. he gasped at the feeling of your cum spilling inside his pussy, feeling like he was your toy ready to get used. which he gladly was, with no question.
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sadhours · 1 year
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READING FOR PLEASURE
billy hargrove x f!reader
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a/n: this was inspired by @billyhargrovetitties story Cruel Summer, if you haven’t read it… you must. I am obsessed with it.
summary: billy finds your romance novel and teases you about it
warnings; 18+ minors dni, pure smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, billy doesn’t pull out and he panics, oops 🙊
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When you return to your bedroom, Billy’s laid out on the bed, on his stomach and propping his head up with his elbow. It’s a cute sight, makes your stomach flip and fill with butterflies as a dirty blonde curl falls in the center of his forehead. You smile warmly and then glance down to see he’s got the romance novel you’d hidden in your bedside table spread out before him and he’s reading it with this all too satisfied grin on his face. When he gazes towards you, the grin meets his eyes, crinkling them up.
“Found your porn stash,” he teases, closing the cover but keeping his fingers tucked into the page he was on. “A Gentle Feuding,” he reads the title out loud with this exaggerated wistfulness to his voice and you know your face is all kinds of shades of crimson. You hope Billy hadn’t noticed the man portrayed on the cover somewhat resembles him, blonde and tan, and that’s why you’d picked the novel in the first place.
“It’s historical,” you lamely reason, lunging forward to grab the book from him but Billy’s reflexes are as quick as a cats. He pulls it out of your fingertips and you attempt to snatch it again, but he pulls it back and you go toppling over him. Billy uses the leverage to flip the both of you over and he’s straddling your waist, holding the book over his head when you reach towards it.
“Historical filth,” he counters, cheeks a little flush from the shuffle of your bodies but that grin permanently smeared on his face.
“Billy,” you whine, “Give it here. It’s embarrassing…”
As you raise your hands to grab it again, Billy grabs your wrists with his right hand and holds them down against your chest. Your whole body feels tight with humiliation and you choke back the tears forming in your eyes. God, you could be such a baby sometimes.
That’s why Billy liked you, though. You acted like such a good girl all the time, he was relieved to find the raunchy book because it let him know that deep down, you were a little vixen and his attempts to draw it out of you had been mostly failures. You two had already slept together, just one time and whenever it came to fooling around, you were so shy.
“This thing is worn,” he comments, looking over the novel in his hand, “How many times have you read it?”
“None of your beeswax,” you huff, “Give it here, Billy. Seriously!”
As you plead, you squirm under his grip, trying to get your arms free so you can rip the book from his hand and maybe destroy it. You haven’t decided, you’re so incredibly embarrassed but it is one of your favorites.
Billy tilts his head ever so slightly, “Should I read some of it to you?”
“No!” you shriek, eyes widening up at him but a part of you is very intrigued. Billy’s voice is like honey, the timbre of it is deliciously low like it comes deep from his throat. You’re suddenly very interested in hearing him read it out loud but you’re still full of shame that he’s found the book. Your hiding place wasn’t very good but enough that your parents or siblings hadn’t found it. Of course, Billy is far snoopier than they are and you should’ve anticipated that when you went to pee, he would be going through your things.
Billy places the book down and moves your wrists to your sides, adjusting his legs so he can pin your arms underneath them. He smiles at you, retrieving the book again and flipping to the first page he’s dog-eared.
“Ya know, there’s a lot of like, bullshit in this book,” he muses, “They don’t even fuck until like almost the end of the book. And then after that it’s like more blah blah blah—“
“It’s called plot,” you argue, voice shakier than you meant for.
The blonde snorts, peering down at you, “I can get you some magazines, ya know? You don’t have to do any reading to get to the good part.”
“I don’t read it for the…” you can’t bring yourself to say the word.
“The filth? Really?” he hums, “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” you lie, wriggling beneath him.
Billy licks his lips, “Let’s see… oh, here’s where it starts getting good; ‘His hand goes somewhere unexpected. Lydia’s eyes widen as the duke’s warm, strong hand smoothes up her milky, white thighs.’.”
“Billy,” you warn, eyebrows knitting closer. It’s as sexy as you imagined but you didn’t entirely anticipate Billy would be so good at reading aloud, it’s almost like he’s practiced with it. He doesn’t stumble over any of the words like you do when you have to read aloud in class.
“Shh,” he shushes you around a smug smirk, “‘Her liquid desire seeps out as he ruffles her petticoat up to her waistline,’ Liquid desire. I like that. Clever way to say she’s wet.”
“Stop!” you protest but the words are purging your own ‘liquid desire’ and you’d rather Billy not have the satisfaction.
“Spicy stuff here. But then the dude only fingers her,” Billy complains with a disappointed frown and flips to the second page he’s dog-eared. “Ah, here we go, I really love this line: ‘Lydia writhes against Arthur but her body freezes as she feels his hardened cock pressed against her stomach.’” He lets out a short laugh, “They actually wrote cock. That’s hilarious.”
You raise an eyebrow, “What word would you use?”
“Cock, definitely, but it’s not a classy word. I thought they’d say like penis or something,” he retorts, biting his lip as he looks to your flushed face.
“Penis isn’t a sexy word,” you argue and feel yourself squirm against him, not because you want him to stop but you want to keep him under the impression you do.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Billy agrees and then asks, “Cock turns you on, though?”
Billy’s sorely mistaken if he thinks you’ll admit to that, no matter how true it is. You shoot him an annoyed look and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He always does that so loud, you’re left impressed each time. You’d tried to do it as loud as he does on nights when you’re bored and alone but it’s never quite as good.
“Lemme see…” his eyes scan the worn pages, “Ooh, this I like: ‘She gyrated the softest part of her against the hardest of him.’”
You also liked that line, it made you think of Billy every time you read it.
“Also, do these chicks ever write about small dicks? They’ve mentioned how huge this duke is like twelve times,” he wonders aloud, lifting the book so he can look down at you.
“Sympathetic?” you bite back, wanting to tease Billy for how he’s teasing you.
“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “you and I both know damn well I ain’t small.”
“Then they’re representing you,” you point out with a wavering smile.
Billy tsks, and then lets out a giggle, thumbing through the pages again. As he finds a particularly dirty passage and begins reading it, you can see his pants tightening over his crotch. You raise an eyebrow, flicking your eyes back up to his face but Billy is too distracted by the words he’s reading to notice.
“Well, well, well,” you say in a teasing tone.
He averts his eyes, seeing that his hard-on is pretty damn obvious in his jeans and you’ve got the perfect view of it. He actually blushes, the reddening hiding his freckles and he closes the book, tossing it behind him as he gazes down at you with his nose scrunched up.
“What?”
“You seem to like it, Billy,” you purr, not trying to suppress the giggle rising from your throat.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, scooting back and releasing your arms. They’ve kind of gone numb from the position under his legs but you don’t mind, you enjoyed every second of it. “If I reach in your pants, you’re gonna be just as obnoxiously turned on.”
“I’m the one who owns the book, Billy,” you challenge with a pleased smirk.
“So you admit it then, you read it for the filth,” he quips.
“I’ll admit that if you admit it gave you a boner.”
“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he mumbles, positioning himself between your legs and hooking his fingers into the elastic band of your sweats. He pulls them down and you lift your legs to help expel them. Billy tosses them to the floor and spreads your thighs, biting his lip as he brushes his knuckles against your clothed heat. A raspy moan is ripped from you, back arching as his knuckle brushes against your aching clit.
“Oh, Billy…”
“I can just see that ‘liquid desire’ soaking through your panties,” he muses, voice rough but the term brings a laugh from the both of you. It also makes you that much wetter.
“Oh my god,” you mutter through the laugh, “You’re never gonna let that go.”
Billy hums, pushing his nose against where his knuckles just were, “Don’t think you really want me to.” His breath tickles the skin where your thigh meets your pelvis and you inhale sharply. Your thighs tingle, heat rising up them and it’s almost overwhelming. Then you feel Billy’s stubble against the flesh of your thigh and his teeth follow, biting at your skin lightly. Your body jolts at the touch and your thighs open even wider, urging Billy to return his movements to where you want him most. His lips curl up as he rests his cheek against your inner thigh, eyes peering up at you. His pupils are so dilated, you can barely see the ocean blue around them.
“I want you,” he admits, smoothing his palm over your core and resting his fingertips against your pubic bone.
The admission draws a deep moan from you because he looks so adorable between your legs but the palm on you and the words make you desire him so deeply it almost hurts. Billy wants you. The idea itself makes your thighs tremble and your hands shoot down to rake your fingers through his dirty blonde curls.
“You have me,” you breathe but wonder how you look at his perspective and it forces you to prop yourself up on your elbows, wanting to look as pretty for him as possible.
“Can I have you?” he asks, pushing his palm harder against your center.
“Yes, Billy,” you pant out.
He sits back up, peeling your underwear off of you and then settling back down between your legs. He kisses tenderly at your thighs, brushing the tip of his finger against your dripping hole. The noise that pushes from your lips is desperate yet a thankful noise, you’ve been wanting Billy to touch you like this since he straddled you earlier. He makes a surprised but happy sound in return, swiping his tongue against your labia experimentally. The warm, wetness of it is welcomed while it’s not distinctly pleasurable, it feels really nice. His single digit penetrates you slowly while he continues to lick your pussy lips. It’s excruciating, but you know he’s doing it with purpose. The first time Billy had touched you intimately, he done the same. Teasing you with touches that were close to where you wanted but not quite there. You’d come to learn that Billy wanted you to plead and beg for him. Which you weren’t exactly confident doing yet. You still felt reserved and a little shame in asking for what you wanted. That’s presumably what got your boyfriend off: pushing you out of your comfort zone and breaking down those societal expectations.
“Billy,” you whine out, tugging at his curls.
“What?” he asks like he knows exactly what you want, a smile present in his voice.
You flush, you weren’t going to get the relief unless you explicitly requested it. You knew this and it makes your throat tighten and your mouth feel dry, tongue heavy in your mouth. You chew on your lower lip as you muster up the courage to put your desire into words.
“Not enough,” you whisper, timidly, “I want more.”
“More?” he pouts up at you, “Tell me what more means.”
“Lick…” you flush, closing your eyes as you try to gain the confidence.
“Lick what?”
“My pussy,” you breathe out, pulling his hair gently.
“I am,” he smirks, “You want me to lick here?” He presses the tip of his tongue to your clit and your head falls back against the mattress,
“Yes!”
He hums and then flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud, the fingers of his left hand digging into your thigh. It’s warm and oh so wonderful as he puts his mouth entirely on you, licking through your folds before focusing on your clit and lapping against it, nose brushing against the curls above your center. You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. The two of you are completely alone for at least another few hours but you’re accustomed to keeping quiet, trying to keep your pants and moans of pleasure at a reasonable volume. Billy’s tongue proves to make it difficult. It’s just as fit as the rest of his body.
“Lemme,” he grunts as he pulls away, pushing your top up your chest and he exhales when your chest is exposed. You’d intentionally skipped putting your bra on today, knowing Billy was coming over. He palms at your breasts, squeezing gently as he moves up to suck hour nipple into his mouth. It feels amazing, not nearly as great as his mouth on your pussy but this is a little more intimate. You can see him better up here, how pink and plump his lips are and the way his eyelashes curl. Billy is single handedly the most attractive person you’ve laid eyes on and here he is, mouthing at your chest.
“Baby…” you whimper as he adds a second finger inside of you.
It’s all a little overwhelming but feels too damn good to stop. You’re in too deep, you’d follow Billy like a lamb to slaughter. As his fingers curl up and drag against your spongy spot, you cry out. You don’t know how much more you can take, suddenly desperate to feel his cock filling you up and stretching you out in the most beautiful way. It’ll be your second time of what you hope to be a life full of.
“Want—“ you gasp, grabbing onto his sleeve. “Want you so bad, Billy.”
He smirks up at you before sitting back on his heels. He pulls his Henley over his head and placing it next to your body. You reach out and feel the contours of his muscular pecs, brushing the pads of your fingertips against his stiff nipple. He’s like one of those Greek statues, sculpted beautifully but unlike the marble, his skin is so soft. He bites the side of his lower lip as he smiles, his eyes squinting with the expression. He’s so damn beautiful, your heart swells.
“You’re…” the compliment dies on your tongue as you suddenly feel demure.
“I’m what?” he breathes, anticipation present in his drawl.
“Everything,” you admit, bashfully.
You think you see him blush, you can’t be sure because Billy’s leaning down to kiss you. It’s a dizzying kiss, you rock your hips up with it as he pulls desire out of you. You meant it, he’s everything to you, everything for you. He’s it for you and if he’s not, there’s gonna be a helluva heartbreak. No one has been so easy to be around. Billy’s like your best friend, he makes you laugh and cry and cum. What the hell else do you ever need besides this man above you?
“Fuck,” he curses, hand on your shoulder as he pulls away, “My dicks so fucking hard it hurts.”
The complaint is nothing but a masked compliment. You widen your legs, moving your hands down to his hips so you can grind up against his clothed erection. “Need you,” you inform him breathlessly.
“You have me,” he smirks, smoothing his thumb against your cheekbone. “Can I fuck you?”
You know he asks because it’s only the second time it’s happening, or could be. You decided long ago that you wanted it, but he doesn’t know that.
“Need you to,” you counter, the walls breaking down slowly. Billy is good at urging the desperation out of you. You're sure he could persuade you into murder, or something nearly as awful.
Billy grunts, pulling away long enough to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. His cock sprouts up and slaps against his abs, angrily hard and you notice his tip is leaking more than you’ve seen before. Your mouth waters at the sight but you’re too eager to blow him. You’re clenching simply at the sight and promise of him burying his cock inside your fluttering cunt. Billy crashes his lips against yours, the shaft of his cock rubs against your soaking pussy and it draws a mutual groan from the two of you. Perhaps you can write a letter to the author of the novel, express your gratitude for it being the source of this very charged moment between you and your stunning boyfriend. You even consider writing your own spicy story about him, he’s damn good inspiration. If you ever write a memoir, you hope and pray that Billy is a lasting role in it.
“Billy,” you plead against his bruising lips.
He grabs your jaw with his left hand while he grabs a hold of his cock with his right, hissing as he runs his tip through your folds. Your body shakes under his touch, hips rocking up ruthlessly from the electricity his movements bring. The romance you read is exciting but can’t compare to his in any way. You’d much rather have him in your bed every night instead of reading until you can’t handle it and hump against your pillow in search of relief. This is tenfold better.
“That feel good?” he inquires, voice hoarse. “You’re so fucking wet.”
He says the last bit like he can’t believe it and you reel from it, reveling in the fact that you can turn Billy on just by reacting to him naturally. The carnal desire in you evaporates every wall you’ve ever built up. There’s no shame left in you as you tell him, “S’all cause of you…”
“Yeah? Am I better than the book?” he asks, circling his tip against the rim of your aching entrance.
“Picture you when I’m reading it,” you pant out the confession, eyes falling shut as his hips jerk forward from your words, his tip penetrating you in an easy, fluid motion.
“Touch yourself at the thought of me?” his voice is so hoarse and the sound of it has you clenching around him. He obviously notices it but the whine that pushes passed his lips.
“Always…”
“Fuck,” he exhales, slipping deeper inside your tight cunt. His girth is a shock, but a good one. It’s only the second time. Your fingers and also his, don’t compare. But you’re thoroughly aroused and you swallow his length easily. The burn is dull and adds to the pleasure. He continues, “That’s so fucking hot.”
His face in contorted in concentration and arousal, “The thought of you fingering this tight pussy—“ he grunts, “Thinking about me fucking you.”
“This is better,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep as he bottoms out, balls warm against your skin.
“I think about you too,” he says between clenched teeth, “When I jerk off…”
It makes your head feel heavy, you’re totally honored. The image of Billy in his bed, pulling at his cock while your name tumbles from his lips makes your hips rock forward repeatedly. He makes a whiny noise and your eyes open, wanting to see it happen again. He’s a goddamn vision, sweating above you with curls sticking to his forehead. Goddamn, he’s so intoxicatingly sexy. Sometimes you get this overwhelming urge to grab onto his face and you indulge in it now, hands pressed against his each side of his head while he pounds into you. His eyes are intense as he stares back at you, these delicious little grunts and moans leaving his lips. The room is spinning, Billy’s eyes are so consuming it feels like he’s devouring you. You’re entranced, bodies writhing against each other while you both chase a high only the other can guarantee.
“Billy—“ you choke out, “I’m.. I’m gonna…”
You can’t finish the thought as he drills into you, his hands grabbing your hips and angling them up so he drives against your g-spot with every thrust.
“Cum?” he offers, voice throaty and hoarse. “You gonna cum for me, babygirl?”
“Ahh…” you try to tell him yes but the waves of the orgasm make it impossible as it thrashes through you, your ankles crossing behind his back as he pounds into you.
The pistons of his hips are unrelenting, you’d be impressed with his stamina if you weren’t being dragged through the most demanding orgasm you’ve ever had. You’re loud, the sound of your voice is foreign, rough and guttural. Billy seems to like it, his eyebrows rising before furrowing as he pins your hips against the mattress and bucks into you brutally. His face is scrunched up and these high pitched, pretty and desperate noises he makes are so wonderfully delicious. His movements freeze and you feel his warm completion fill you up.
“Billy…” you moan at the sensation, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt and he collapses on top of you, a panting mess as his lips find yours. The kisses are frantic and sloppy. You’re not even certain they could classify as kisses. Then his eyes are wide and he’s lifting himself up.
“Fuck, oh shit,” his voice is full of panic, “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”
You’re close to passing out, but you manage to ask, “For what?”
“I came inside you,” he explains, eyes wide.
“Mhm… felt so good,” you mumble, not able to care about his terror in the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“I didn’t mean to… fuck,” he breathes against your cheek, “Gonna have to.. get a plan B.”
“Billy,” you sigh happily as you wrap your arms around him, “Mmm… feels so good.”
He relaxes at the realization that you’re not pissed at him and for a second, he lets himself revels in the fact that he’s just cum inside you and how amazing it felt. He gasps softly, “So good…”
4K notes · View notes
asmosmainhoe · 4 months
Note
hi i saw that you mentioned you’d do Obey Me Characters react to you being jealous and was wondering if you did it, cause i couldn’t find it 😅. and if not.. well i guess this is a request haha thank you 🫶
The brothers reacting to a jealous MC
Notes: Omg it's been yeaaaaars since I talked about that jsnsjqh I totally forgot
Gender: neutral
Warnings: none
Masterlist
Lucifer
Saying that he doesn't enjoy the scene that unfolds before him would be a lie. You're standing there with your arms crossed and a frown on your face, too proud to admit your jealousy
He might even tease you little bit and have that awful cocky grin form on his pretty lips. That frustrates you more than anything
"Don't be a fool, my love. As much as I take joy in seeing you like this I don't want you to feel insecure."
"I'm not insecure though. I trust you."
"I know, but nevertheless I want you to remember that you have no competition. You could never have competition."
Maybe it's his reassuring voice or the adoration that is oh so obvious in his eyes that makes the silly voice in the back of your head shut up. You believe him when he says that no one compares
Mammon
So many mixed feelings. On one hand he likes the thought of having his favorite person fight for him, but on the others he really doesn't want you to beat yourself up over this
Mammon is a party animal and incredibly outgoing so those traits naturally come with some side effects which is in this case an overly confident admirer. The same admirer who is currently experiencing the terror of a lifetime thanks to the deadly looks you're giving them
As much as a jerk your beloved boyfriend can be this time he's keeping his teasing comments to himself. On the contrary even. He's sending clear signals towards the other demon by displaying so much affection towards you to the point where you have to practically shove him off you. It still leaves you giggling and grinning
"What in Diavolo's name are you doing?!"
"What does it look like? I'm givin' ya the Mammon deluxe package!"
Leviathan
Of course he knows the feeling too well. After all he's struggling with keeping it at bay at the slightest interaction you have with other people. It's not his intention to hurt you or cage you in simply because he can't control himself
So out of all the brothers Levi is the one to react the fastest. He's already pulling you aside for a more private setting and tightly wraps his arms around you
"Please don't think anything of it! You're my number one and you always will be!"
The hug might or might not have been a way to hide his intense blush as he's saying those words. We all know that it takes a lot out of him
He will avoid the other person like a plague from that point on even if you stop being jealous of them. Someone only has to mention their name and he's jumping to his feet as if he got stung by something
Satan
He doesn't care about how others feel about him so when you first mention that he has an admirer he doesn't pay it any attention. You don't know if it relieves or bothers you to be honest
While Satan couldn't care less about such things he still does care how you feel in this situation. If you're uncomfortable with the way the other person is treating him then he will address it to them immediately
But beware! He thinks the problem is solved with that and most likely doesn't quite notice that it still bugs you. You literally have to bring it up to him, but don't worry. Everything after that is easy
"Please don't get this the wrong way. I trust you with all my heart, but I don't know...I guess I need some extra reassurance to be able to get passed it."
"No, don't apologize, my dear. I'll give you anything you need to have the issue solved."
Asmodeus
Us Asmo stans know that he comes with a price. The price being a comically large amount of fans who would kiss the ground he walks on
Usually you're not the type to be bothered by that, because you knew exactly what you agreed to when dating him and Asmo has done everything in his power to never let you feel insecure in this relationship
Unfortunately there is still this one specific person who you can't seem to stand at all. The thought of them alone turns your stomach upside down and has your blood boiling
Please feel more than free to bring it up to Asmo though! He doesn't want you to feel that way.
Since the beginning he's been doing nothing, but fight the allegations that he's not a loyal partner and only cares for one thing and you've been making sure that he knows how much you trust him
"I can tell them to step on the breaks and if they don't listen then I'll just be a bit more assertive."
"What exactly do you mean with assertive?"
"Don't you worry your pretty head, honey."
The next day this person magically vanished from all social media and for some reason Asmo doesn't want to give you any details, but you do know that his fanclub has something to do with it
Beelzebub
Like Satan he couldn't care less what other people feel towards him. He has his family and his own close circle that's all he really needs, but he's an extremely attentive boyfriend. Your sudden mood changes whenever this particular demon is mentioned or around don't go unnoticed
"Did they do something to hurt you?"
Beel-fight-mode is activated and he's looking around for that person, ready to knock the breath out of their lungs
"No, no! It's a bit...silly."
You're feelings aren't silly! They're valid! Just tell him what's going on and he will get to it immediately
If you need some extra reassurance after that then he's more than happy to cover you in love and affection
Belphegor
Is it bothering you enough to put up with his teasing? Don't give me that look. We both know that he's going to provoke the shit out of you
"Wow, is someone jealous?"
"I will punch you."
Yes, he will make you suffer for several days, but when he notices that you're genuinely hurting from it he will stop
He doesn't mind being rude to others to get his point across or to get you what you want. So, no. He's not breaking their heart. He's shattering it into million tiny pieces and stomps on the remains
Later that day when you two are cuddling in bed he's telling you that you're the only one for him as he drifts off to sleep kissing you
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worldlxvlys · 4 months
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the way i loved you
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: cursing
a/n: hope you likeee <333
i watched as nick pulled an array of snacks from a plastic bag, setting them on the table.
today nick, matt, chris, and i were going to be filming a video where we rate snacks from around the world.
once nick set the camera up, he did the intro and explained what we would be doing.
while nick explained where he got the food, i watched Chris pick up a small pink tin, inspecting it.
i slowly began to tune out nick’s voice, focusing on the way chris’s fingers ran across the tin.
he carefully placed the tin down, drumming his fingers along the table.
god, his fingers are so long. they’re perfect-
no! stop! you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend’s fingers like that !
i quickly look away from his fingers, realizing i was staring.
luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.
as nick continued to explain the concept of the video, i watched as chris began to smile.
i love how excited he is, he’s adorable.
as i smiled at his eagerness, he happened to look at me, catching my gaze as we smiled at each other.
once nick finished explaining, we decided to try the sour candy in the pink tin first.
i watched as chris attempted to take the plastic wrapping around the tin off, but was unsuccessful.
he fumbled with the plastic, and it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands still. he almost seemed, nervous ?
he turned to me with a bashful smile on his face, “can you open it, please?”
“yeah, i got you” i said as i grabbed it from his hands, removing the plastic wrapping and handing it back to him.
“this one has vitamin c, which one’s that?” he looked at me, expectantly.
“why would i know ?” i asked, furrowing my brows.
“i don’t know, you’re the smart one” he mumbled.
“shut up” i laughed as i shook my head , “you’re smart too” .
we all tried one, and agreed that they weren’t actually sour, despite the tin having the word sour across it in big letters.
“doesn’t it feel like you have to put a lot of effort into getting that grape flavor ?” nick pointed out.
he scrunched his face up, making us all laugh, as chris put his hand on my shoulder, leaning onto me as he laughed.
i love hearing him laugh.
we gave it a rating, and moved onto the next candy.
once we realized they were slide whistles, we all started busting out laughing.
we all started fooling around, laughing at each other’s shenanigans.
chris wrapped his arms around my waist, laughing into my shoulder. the sound of his laugh, made me laugh even harder.
as we continued to try and rank the snacks, chris grew more and more touchy.
not that i’m complaining.
there were many times where i would catch him staring at me and vice versa. he made it so easy to enjoy his presence.
once we finished our last snack and agreed on the final ranking of everything, nick closed out the video and turned off the camera.
i turned to chris. “that was fun” i said trying to fight the shit-eating grin that was forming on my face.
“i agree” he said, returning the smile.
“jesus christ” matt spoke up from behind us, rolling his eyes and walking away.
“what ?” we called out.
A FEW DAYS LATER
nick, chris, and i were hanging out in the living room.
i was scrolling on tik tok, occasionally showing them videos that i found funny.
as i continued to scroll, i came across one video in particular that made my heart begin to race.
the lyrics of The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift filled the room.
what the actual fuck.
and he says, you look beautiful tonight. and i feel perfectly fine. but i miss…
clips of chris and i staring at each other fill the screen.
screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it’s 2 am and i’m cursing your name
chris holding onto my waist, hugging me, leaning on me
so in love that you act insane, and that’s the way i loved you
us laughing together, looks of pure joy on our faces.
i glance to my right, seeing chris already staring down at my phone.
fuck. what do i do ? what do i say ?
suddenly, nick yells “oh my god is that the ship edit of you and chris ? that shit’s blowing up !” he said.
“damn, nick. how’d you know ?”
“i reposted it”
“WHAT?” chris and i stared at him like he had five heads.
“well, it was good. and c’mon, doesn’t take a genius to realize y’all like each other” he said, nonchalantly.
“i’m going to the bathroom” he said, walking off.
i’m literally losing my mind. a ship edit ? a TAYLOR ship edit ? we’re never beating the dating allegations.
“well, what do the comments say?” chris asked, his voice shaking the slightest bit.
i glanced over at him, before opening the comments.
sturniolowhore
awww they’re adorable
blueeyedbesson
they’d look so good tg
abbie13sworld
they’re literally in love no one can convince me otherwise
mommysturns
i literally love them tg 💗
babydollfae22
they need to stop playing and get tg
mbbsgf
them + taylor makes me so happy
“damn. they kinda love us together” i said. i scrolled, expecting to move onto something else.
suddenly, Tattoo by Loreen came on. this edit had clips of chris and i from the recent video and over the years.
it’s like we’re watching a progression of our relationship over the past few years.
every wandering eye, stolen glance, smile that was a little too wide, touch, hug that lasted a little too long, the fans always noticed them.
it was literally right in front of our faces the entire time.
listening to the sound of violins swelling while watching chris and i’s interactions almost made me want to cry.
i turned to chris, who was already staring at me.
he looked down at my lips. “what do the comments say?” he asked.
i turned back to my phone, opening them up.
sophssturn
they’re literally perfect for each other
xhiejfy
how adorableeee
bernardenjoyer
they’re cute ig but me and jimmy would be cuter
queen161718
literally just watched them fall in love with each other
vib3swithanuk
they’re good for each other
fr3sh-love
so so happy for them
“they think that we’d be good together” i told him.
“i think i agree with them” he whispered.
“then maybe you should ask me out” i said, my gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips.
our noses touched. “will you go out with me ?”
i smiled, “hell yeah” i whispered before pushing my lips onto his.
—————-
y’all see any familiar names ? 🤨
i love y’all <333
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @mommysturns @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna
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yestrday · 3 months
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― YANDERE! GENSHIN ACADEMY AU. pt one | two | three | four | five
⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno + ayato, baizhu, mika / gn! reader
introducing! from sumeru hails teyvat's brightest minds, and it's no surprise that many of the academu's smartest are true-blood sumerians. a lesser known fact is that these are less skilled in the workings of the heart, and therefore, a bit more unstable than the average lad.
warning! yandere, obsessive & possessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, master-pet dynamics, mentions of bullying, physical wounds
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— STOIC ACADEMIC TYPE. alhaitham | الهيثم
[ “if you’re looking to get my help, i’d rather you just outright say it than dilly-dallying around.” ]
⇢ one of the geniuses in your second year, haitham is a no-nonsense type of guy that has that air of arrogance around him. he’s quite hard to approach, and he doesn’t care to socialize with any of your circles. he has, however, taken a liking to you, and will usually just drag you around whenever he feels like it.
⇢ expect forced study sessions with him in the library. he’s very keen on making sure your grades are in tip-top shape, even though you never asked him for help. it’s obvious that he takes a bit of sadistic pleasure when you ask him for his help. when you ask him on how to solve a problem, he stops whatever he’s reading and scrutinizes you with those stoic eyes, before a small and smug grin forms on his face. sometimes you’re not sure if he truly wants to help you or he just likes to hear you plead and beg.
⇢ kinda likes to see you screw up as well. seeing you excel (because he helped you, after all) is all nice and good, but he likes to see you fumble it every once in a while. sometimes you get a bit arrogant, refusing his help and insisting that you can do it by yourself, only for it to backfire in your face. when you run back to him with your begging and pleading, he puts on a show of being nonchalant about it. didn’t you say you were fine? so why bother him now, and especially in the middle of a good book?
⇢doesn’t hide the fact that he sort of treats you like a pet, with the way he drags you to and fro. his blunt everyday tone makes everyone feel like he’s looking down at them, but even more so with the way he talks to you. stay, he says when you start approaching him. sit, he tells you. whether you follow or not is up to you, and while he does love having an obedient pet, there is some fun to be found in keeping a bratty one.
⇢likes to see you rely on him. is it out of genuine care or because he sees you as a complete fool who can’t do anything on their own, time will tell, but he’s strangely insistent about you depending on him. he doesn’t make it very obvious, especially when he acts like he could give two shits about anything, but when you mention having troubles, he says things like “that is what you’re having trouble with?” without offering his help, you usually start nagging him for the answer.
⇢haitham isn’t one for praise but… he does get a kick off you praising him. not because he’s starved for it (he’s had heaps of that ever since he showed his academic prowess) but because it felt just right. he does help you a lot, doesn’t he? taking the time out of his busy day to help you with whatever silly thing you need. the least you could do is thank him for it.
[ “honestly, you ought to be more grateful with how much i’m always helping you.” ]
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– PASSIONATE TYPE. kaveh | کاوه
[ “oh yeah, uh, i guess i did win that! do… do you like it?” ]
⇢ your senior kaveh who’s been all over you ever since your first year. he’s a bit clingy with his touches, holding onto your arm while you walk and greeting you with hugs ever since the two of you got close. whenever the two of you see each other in the hallways, he immediately latches onto you and doesn’t let go. will drag you around while chatting your ear off.
⇢ often starts to show off when you’re around. he tries to be really nonchalant about it too, like casually trying to slip in his accomplishment in the middle of a conversation to make it seem like he’s not trying too hard. when you smile and compliment him, he starts to stutter and blush, losing the cool composure he tried to maintain just moments ago. the others tease him for being a senior who wants to impress his junior and he quickly denies it (“they’re just saying what they want!” he’d huff to you), but you can’t deny the red blush and the pleased smile on his face.
⇢ always trying to help other people out, even if he’s too busy. while he’ll drop everything he’s doing when you ask him a favor, he also doesn’t have the heart to say no to others. some days, he gets a bit disheveled by dismissal after helping out so many people at once. when he starts whining to you and he becomes even clingier, be understanding and let him. he’s had a rough day, after all.
⇢ everyone knows the shenanigans that occur around you in school and kaveh is no exception. so he’s made a bit paranoid every day, wondering when of your crazed suitors will snap and just kidnap you. he could just do it himself and not worry about being separated from you, but he thinks he’s above such things (true, but only without the proper motivation). to compensate for this, he spends every second with you like it’s his last.
⇢ did you just hold his hand?!? that must mean something, right?! he conveniently forgets that you’ve held hands with numerous other people in this academy, but you can’t blame the poor dude, he’s the type to overthink stuff like that. he’s gone over seemingly normal moments between you two countless times in his head, wondering if any of that meant something. at the back of his head, he knows he’s overreacting. but then he remembers when you gave him some papers and your fingers lingered for some seconds then he starts squealing in his pillow, absolutely deluded by his fantasies.
⇢ he’s not the jealous type…! really! he knows how kind and sweet you are. he knows that the praises you have for him are genuine and the way you look at him in admiration is all real. you’re not the type to fake those after all…! even so… even so, you continue to look at others with that same look, and praise them with the same praise. it’s not that they don’t deserve it but… is he not just good enough? to have your praises reserved for only him… was he just not worthy of that?!
[ “did i… did i do something wrong…? please, just talk to me, look at me!” ]
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— SASSY TYPE. tighnari | الطغنري
[ “those idiots… honestly, they could at least treat you with a little more care!” ]
⇢ straightforward and no-nonsense, tighnari is well-respected among his peers for being an academic with an honest personality. especially in a school where anything can just tip anyone off, tighnari does not care about who he has to offend to make them back off. as such, many suitors can’t just do their trickery to you whenever he’s watching, lest he call them out on the spot.
⇢ he’s very concerned about your wellbeing. he’s often warning you about the dangers of the men you surround yourself with. whether you believe him or not is up to you, but that won’t stop him from trying to prevent anything from happening to you. obviously, he can’t just say that someone’s killed someone— he doesn’t want to ruin your life like that— but he’s often cryptic, hoping that you’ll figure it out for yourself.
⇢ very naggy, though he nags like a disappointed mother rather than a caring one. you and cyno are often at the end of these rants when you two do something stupid (either together or as individuals), but it’s a sign that tighnari truly cares about you. he could care less whether haitham cut himself on one of his books, but when you do he’s immediately all over you and berating you for being stupid and careless.
⇢ becomes too smug whenever you show a preference for him. he loves feeling when you choose him over anyone else and the suitors stew in their anger when he shoots them a haughty grin. cyno often has to remind him that he’s being too much, but he knows how much tighnari delights in defeating the other harem members without even having to do anything. you chose him out of your own free will, and that says a lot more than having you forced to pick him.
⇢ being raised on botany and all its properties, tighnari’s almost an expert in all things plants and that includes their… chemistry. it’s no surprise that he’s one of the suitors who are capable of concocting their little mixtures. when using it on other competitors, he’s not one to dirty his hands. he often has cyno slipping a thing or two in their drinks (or in special cases, an overly desparate kaveh). but when it comes to tampering with your drink? well, he reserves that special privilege for himself, all for the pleasure of watching the chemicals slowly affect you.
⇢ a smart guy, who knows that the way to your heart is not intimidating you into it but instead playing the nice and concerned friend. poor you, always being chased around by these unstable men. why have them who will only hurt you, when you can come to him, someone that you can trust? even if your vision is slipping away, your body becomes heavy… you can trust him, no matter what~
[ “feeling sleepy already? dear me, your body is really fragile… and cute ♪” ]
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— GUARD DOG TYPE. cyno | κύων 
[ “if they’re bothering you again, talk to me. i’ll be the one to handle it.” ]
⇢ serious cyno who amuses you with his corny jokes delivered with a stoic expression. despite looking so mature, being with cyno often gets you two into trouble that he didn’t foresee. it has something to do with that intimidating expression and the way he’s ready to fight anyone who nears him. people mistake him for challenging them to a fight, and more often than not you’re left watching cyno beat down opponents in self-defense.
⇢ when people aren’t busy trying to fight him, cyno’s always seen patrolling the campus halls as head of the security committee. you can tell who’s been caught by him before by the way they flinch and avoid his piercing gaze. even many of his admirers are a bit terrified of him, and all they can do is just watch him walk over to you and whisper in your ear. they think you’re in trouble, but in reality, he’s telling you to meet him at the same meeting spot because he wants to show you this rare genius invocation card he just bought.
⇢ no one in his friend group takes him seriously anymore, not when he’s busy challenging all of them to a tcg fight every get-together. they tend to get roped up into his antics, and you can see how boys really will just be boys as the four of them begin to one-up each other into petty competitions. and cyno’s always been the most competitive out of them.
⇢ cyno seems to have a habit of suddenly showing up moments before one of your suitors plans to do something. they might start to sneak into your lockers to steal something when they see cyno leaning casually against the wall with a knowing glint in his eye. or when one of them spikes your drink and cyno unhesitatingly takes your glass and dump it on the floor, without breaking eye contact with the suspect. the guard dog that you don’t know about.
⇢ part of the protective stalker group within your suitors who make sure to follow you from the shadows whenever he has free time. these stalkers are often chill with each other, nodding at each other in acknowledgment whenever they bump into each other in one of their stalking escapades. he keeps a close eye on you at all times, with your security purely his concern and nothing else.
⇢ indifferent to getting his hands bloody. he’s not unreasonable— he knows that he can’t kill someone just because he’s jealous or something like that. he can’t risk doing something that will have an impact on you. but justice has to be served, and when he sees someone hurt you or become a threat to your safety… he just can’t help it. whether it’s mixing nari’s poison or simply giving them a cold, swift death, everything he does is because he loves you so.
[ “hush, there’s nothing to cry about. they’re gone, no one will hurt you. i have served you justice.” ]
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— SCHEMING TYPE. kamisato ayato | 神里綾人
[ “oho? it pains me that you’re so wary of me, even after all these years!” ]
⇢ senior ayato who always has that gentle but calculating mask on, socializing with many people but never close to any of them. when people start realizing that you might have caught his interest, they have warned you about him and whatever shady motives he might harbor. but whenever he approached you, he was so kind and generous with his offerings… not that you were fooled.
⇢ he’s always showering you with gifts whenever you’re together like he’s trying to flex his wealth. bump into him at the mall? he tells you to walk with him for a bit, but you leave with a luxury item you eyed for a few seconds. bundles you up in his scarf when you’re feeling chilly, however when you try to return it to him on the next day he just tells you to keep it so casually like the fabric doesn’t cost you your life savings.
⇢ when class isn’t keeping them both apart, thoma is always seen attending to ayato’s side. it’s not a secret that thoma can go to school because the kamisatos are funding his education, so no one really questions it. they do get a little bit suspicious whenever the two seem a little… intimate, but in the end, who really cares?
⇢ you should really heed others’ warnings about ayato, because it’s clear that he’s a dangerous fellow. he seems to know everything about everyone. once, he had threatened your bullies off with a thinly veiled threat regarding their shady pasts. you don’t know how he got hold of such rare information, but it seems that he’s one of the many people at this school with an information network under their fingertips.
⇢ while he does view you with adoration, it’s clear with how he talks to you that he doesn’t view you as his equal. with the way he talks you down sometimes like he’s talking to a pet rather than a fellow student, you sometimes feel a bit… demeaned. but when ayato tucks your hair behind your ear so tenderly, you have to second-guess your apprehensions.
⇢ the difference between you two is clear. he is the elite of the elite and you are… you. and he takes advantage of this without guilt. it starts as off remarks, about how you wouldn’t survive a day in their society, then it transforms into something bigger. before you know it, he’s criticizing your clothes, your posture, your personality… anything to nail in the fact that you. are. different. till you lose your pride and self-worth. till ayato makes sure that you won’t have the willpower to fight back once he begins his schemes.
[ “but i’m not lying, am i? you are different, and we can’t really do anything about that, can we?” ]
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— SUSPICIOUS TYPE. baizhu | 白术
[ “another trip to the nurse, i see… if i didn’t know better, i would think you were here to see me.” ]
⇢ senior baizhu is head of the health committee and is often seen helping out at the nurse’s. his kind and gentle nature makes the sterile place feel a lot more comforting and he attends to each patient without complaint. but when you come over, the nurse remarks how baizhu seems a bit more stressed whenever he frets over you. you’re not quite sure… after all, baizhu has always been so caring towards you and everyone else.
⇢ he’s sickly himself, so sometimes he has to rely on others for help. he does seem to ask you for help more so than the others, but you really shouldn’t mind. after all, he’s done so much for you! he’s prone to fainting, thankfully not that severe, but you have to catch him in your arms before he hits the floor. the way he thanks you and softly utters your name has you almost dropping him, and you swear there’s a cheeky grin on his face that’s gone a second after.
⇢ although his reputation is generally favorable, there are whispers that he and his family are involved in shady medical research. baizhu, when asked about these, will always only laugh and shake his head. ‘let them say what they want to say’, he would tell them. ‘what matters is that i’m capable of tending to them when they come to me for help.’ such thoughtful words often erase whatever doubts they have about baizhu and even make them guilty for even falsely accusing him.
⇢ but they’re right, though. they are a big pharmaceutical company, and every massive corporation has its shadows. a solo research that he’s been working on is in the area of immortality. in recent years, he’s been working on it with much more fervor now that he’s met you. back then, his goal for immortality was always directionless, only researching for the sake of curiosity. but now he has a clear goal: to spend eternity with you and for you.
⇢ he’s an expert businessman and your harem members are well aware of that. among them, he’s known to make many shady deals, especially since he’s so knowledgeable in… drugs. he makes a lot of profit from this, but another clear advantage is his time with you. though these rich students could just buy their drugs literally anywhere, no one quite provides the safety of not being caught like baizhu.
⇢ … might make those deals because more often than not, they end up with you in the nurse’s office. whether bruised from the bullying of another suitor or disoriented from some sort of poison, you rush to the nurse before things get worse for you. you’re so smart, he’d praise you as he tends to the wounds. there is a pleasure in bandaging you up, knowing full well that he could easily dig his nails into the cuts and leave you more in need of his help.
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— ANXIOUS TYPE. mika schmidt 
[ “they’re very cool but i… maybe i shouldn’t get too close…” ]
⇢ lil bro gets pushed around by the meaner people in his year and he doesn’t even question it. it’s just very easy to take advantage of him, with his eager-to-please personality and his notable ability to do almost anything exceptionally well. it takes him being adopted into the first-year harem group before the bullying dies down (mainly because most of the people there are well-known and powerful). he doesn’t quite understand how they could bond over a person (you) and was originally quite frightened at their almost fanatic worship of you.
⇢ no one would think he’s part of your harem, not with the way he desperately tries to avoid you. in fact, you could count the times you’ve talked to him on two hands. on all times he was a blushing and stuttering mess to the point that he was incoherent. xingqiu seemed to take a kick out of his embarrassment, while aether softly coaxed him into forming a full sentence in front of you. what stuck with you was how he refused to shake your hand, to which xingqiu bowled over laughing. 
⇢ when he got a little bit more comfortable with you, he was still shy albeit not much to the point that he wasn’t willing to offer you help. you’d often bump into each other while you’re on your errand, and he takes half the workload. most of the time, the two of you work in silence, with mika taking frequent glances at you. when you’re done, he says a meek ‘goodbye!’ and sprints off.
⇢ stalks you around school like a little creep, but thankfully not to the point where he follows you home. he’d peek from around a corner, watching you in the distance with wide eyes in admiration. you’re always so hardworking and excellent… it’s no wonder you have so many admirers! he was almost caught by you a few times, but thankfully you’re none the wiser. his stalking is painfully obvious to the other harem members, but they think him harmless enough that they don’t pay him any mind.
⇢ things that you need the most are always miraculously appearing in your bag, locker, table, etc. when you had complained to thoma about not bringing your lunch, later that day you’d open your locker to find a freshly made lunchbox. when you grumble to yourself about running out of correction tape, a pack with the plastic still on appears on your table. you’re perplexed, albeit grateful. after all, this isn’t the first time some creepy shit has happened to you.
⇢ he really really wishes he’d work up the courage to talk to you face to face without having to be so nervous… but he can’t help the jitters whenever you’re just in front of him! your voice has his ears ringing, your scent has him dizzy, and you’re just so, so cool that he feels so small compared to you! how could he ever talk to you like this…! maybe in the future, when mika would be more capable and dependable…
[ “a–aah… how could i talk to them! they’re too…!” ]
1K notes · View notes
kentopedia · 5 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ WAS I SUCH A FOOL? — NANAMI KENTO
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summary . . . two years after breaking up with nanami kento, he shows up at your concert
contents . . . 70s rock band, NSFW 18+, fem!reader, brief discussion of drug and alcohol addiction, exes, singer!reader x drummer!nanami, rival bands, secret relationships, infidelity, reader is in a relationship with toji, smut, piv, creampie, “angry” sex, angst, complicated relationships — 7.5k
notes . . . inspired by many things, including silver springs by fleetwood mac, daisy jones & the six and nana <3 so if you like any of those things and kento, this is for you!
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It was the final stretch of your tour. 
A finale that led to the conclusion of months spent in nothing but a cloud, one where you lingered only on the outskirts of your memory. Hazy traces of drawn-out celebrations, sweaty sex in the bathrooms during a house party, camera flashes from paparazzi—they were the only glimpses that you got from the weeks that had gone by, images that weren’t quite cohesive. 
There had been days where you didn’t quite remember your name, stumbled over the recollections of the night before, the weeks before, but you didn’t mind so much. It would all be fine, as long as you never forgot your lyrics up on the stage, where millions of eyes watched your every move carefully, would judge you for even the most minor slip-up. 
You could forgive yourself for almost anything, but you’d rather die than embarrass yourself in front of them, your fans, the only ones whose love you had left. 
The list of people you’d disappointed in your life couldn’t be condensed; even those who spared their affection like it was a necessity held some shred of bitterness towards you. They couldn’t be blamed, really. Not when your life was one to scorn, and you were a dying star, burning bright and burning fast. 
Still, you couldn’t think of a better way to live life. The warmth of drugs and alcohol and the music spared you from surviving every day in misery. 
Of course, singing seemed to do the trick better than anything. It was more of a high than anything else had ever been, and the way you felt on stage was close to the same sort of love you’d felt two years ago. The adoration of fans was innocent enough to fill the void in your gaping heart. 
You clasped your hand around the microphone, closing your eyes as you leaned forward, sultrily singing the rhythm before you would come to the crescendo at the end of your song. 
Years of work had led up to this—the grandeur of singing to a venue filled to the brim with fans, each of them knowing the words to your creation. Every crack in the audience was taken by a body, one rank with sweat, contributing to the thick air, cloaked in smoke. A crowd of people that seemed undesirable, and yet, they tolerated the smell, the feeling of a stranger pressed up against their backside, just for a few moments of seeing their favorite album played live.
They were here for all of you. A band that was never supposed to make it this far, and yet, held the number one single in the country, a few gold records, and covers on magazines that some could only dream of being in. 
Yet, with your ego the size of the sun, and the dreamy haze that you put yourself in, you couldn’t help but feel like the crowd was always rooting for you. Hearts formed in their eyes as they watched you sway behind the microphone, and it brought a smile to your lips, one that always came with the rush of performing.
The words you wrote took you elsewhere, transported you to a place where you could truly spill your soul out, your ink on the page as permanent as the mark you’d leave on the world. You were important, weren’t you? Maybe not in the way you wanted to be, but still in a way that mattered. 
The bass played steadily behind you, strumming, deepening, sinking into your veins. Although you focused, it was easy to forget yourself and where you were. The lines and the chords were too familiar from all your late night practices, from the cigarettes you’d shared in bed with Toji Fushiguro, who played the bass like he bled honey.
The lyrics you’d penned from your very own hand, sang deeply from your diaphragm, always led to a flash of memories in your mind like a film screen, each word punctuating another moment in your life that had pushed you into a mess of a woman. 
Toji’s name might have been next to yours on the songwriting credits, but this song, the one you belted, belonged to you and you alone. It put you on display, stripped you bare; if anyone really bothered to search deep enough, they’d see you for what you were. 
They’d see that, contrary to the opinion of the public, these songs were not about Toji at all.
A tear dripped off your lashes, and you clenched your jaw, refusing to let sadness overpower the anger that you should’ve felt towards the man you’d left behind. For months, you’d blamed yourself—but it had taken two to weave the web of hurt that still ensnared you. 
Shaking off the despair, you stared out into the crowd, digging deep into your lungs for the breath that would sustain the powerful note, the punctuation of your song, the climax of the pain and fury you’d never get rid of. The lingering emotion that had you questioning if you’d been the one to ruin the best thing you’d ever had, or if, perhaps, you’d just been bad for each other all along. 
You traced your gaze through the faces, soaking in the love in their expressions, the praise that came with their reactions to your lyrics. How that sort of love didn’t make you feel whole, but it certainly put you back together in a way that made you believe you weren’t so broken anymore either. 
Then—the world stuttered, momentarily, halting to a screech as brown eyes, just as steadfast and tender as you remembered, stared over dark glasses. 
You fell behind in the song, just a note, a pause that lasted less than a second. Your lips turned dry as your heart fell down to the floor, dropping into your stomach, twisting your insides. You almost convinced yourself it was an illusion, until he blinked, shifting, though not uncomfortably, disguised just enough so that no one else in the crowd knew who he was but you. 
Nanami Kento, there, right before your very eyes. It was the first time you’d seen him in person since you’d split up two years ago—a breakup that would’ve made the headlines for weeks, if anyone had known about it. 
You squeezed the microphone harder, the sound in your voice dripping with emotion, raw and raspy, but in a way that was beautiful. You’d never sang like this before, but the muse of your song, the man you always wrote about, stood before you. 
Kento didn’t look much different—but you wouldn’t have noticed the changes anyways. You saw him in the papers constantly, unable to avoid him as much as you were certain he was unable to avoid you.
You sang the few notes of the song; Toji brought you to a crescendo, and your voice nearly cracked from rage, the breath ripped from your lungs as Kento dared to watch you with pity at the mess you’d made of yourself. After all this time, you couldn’t stand to see that sort of compassion on his face.
The lights suddenly seemed too bright, the crowd too wild, Kento’s eyes too deep and sad and unreflective of those around him. 
One of your other bandmates closed out your evening, and though the crowd demanded an encore, you refused to get back on the stage, couldn’t do it even if you tried. The contents of your stomach emptied out right as you stepped out of their sight. 
“Shit!” one of the stagehands shouted, jumping out of your way as you heaved again, wiping your eyes. There was another round of cursing, and sure, they were used to stars indulging too much in things they shouldn’t, but that wasn’t the only reason for you vomiting all over the floor. 
“Hey, hey,” a voice said, calming and steady as a hand traced up your spine, rubbing soothing circles. “Everything okay, baby? Need some water?” Toji was concerned, deep eyes scanning your face for any signs of weakness.
You shook him off, and Toji whispered to another one of the men over his shoulder, telling them to close the final curtain. Even though you wanted to protest, you wiped your mouth, and accepted the water that a dark-haired woman had rushed to you. 
“I’m fine, Toji,” you said, breathing heavily, wondering if there was any ounce of truth to your words. Nanami’s appearance had been the last thing you’d expected, and you didn’t want anyone to notice, out of the fear that someone would start digging into your past with him. 
You could only hope that your shared glimpse had gone unnoticed, a plethora of emotions spelled out there, ones that you’d been horrible at hiding. 
Toji directed the stagehands around, dragging your manager over, even as their conversation fell on your lifeless ears. Everything sounded like static, and you didn’t want to speak, sweaty and hot, a panic rising up in you. 
“I’m going to the dressing room,” you said, needing to get away from the shouting, the wave of anxiety that was arising. It was quickly becoming too much; even Toji’s presence was too much. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” 
“You want me to stay with you?” Toji asked, his eyes flashing with an emotion you couldn’t discern, perhaps possessiveness, perhaps something else. He’d always been more jealous than you would’ve liked, but his presence was a comfort from time to time. 
Not now, though.
Shaking your head, you drew away from him, Toji’s large palm falling off the small of your back. “I’m fine, really.” Nothing you said could’ve convinced him completely, and you didn’t bother. Instead, you left the stage without listening to the rest of his protests, climbing down the stairs and disappearing out of view. 
Surprisingly, he let you go. After nearly four years of sharing a band, it seemed Toji Fushiguro was starting to understand you. 
The truth was, with your shaky hands and the rampant nervousness that seemed to heighten only after a show, you knew you needed something. Toji had forced you to flush everything that you’d kept locked up, but you always kept a back-up, just in case, for times where the music wasn’t enough. 
You went to the dressing room, hands shaking at your sides as you tried to regain some control of your breathing, rid the rancid taste from your mouth. There was still a box of cigarettes in your pocket, and you lit one, the smoke easing some of the emotions that spun wild circles in your chest. 
As you returned backstage, your bodyguard, Itadori, a young man that you’d hired on the spot, smiled softly, falling away from the door to the dressing room. There had been too many close calls, too many incidents in recent years that you didn’t want a repeat of. Ever since you’d gotten enough money to hire proper security, you’d put it in Itadori’s pocket. 
“Anyone try to sneak back here?” you asked; you’d heard horror stories of fans trying to steal items, even trash, things like used tissues with snot dripping off it. It’d been a nightmare of yours since you first started going on tour.
Itadori shook his head, and let you in, released you into a room that wasn’t quite silent, but was better, worlds better, than the blaze of music that had followed you off the stage, bursting your eardrums. Sometimes, you forgot how loud it truly was out there. The ring in your ears and the deafening quiet were the sole reminders of the difference in sound after the shows. 
You smoked to the end of the cigarette, filling the room with a cloud as you calmed yourself, rummaging through your bag for the spare bottle of pills that you’d hidden away from Toji. For emergencies only, you’d promised yourself. 
And, well, this was certainly one of those times. 
Without any water, you swallowed it, feeling a lump in your throat before it slid down, dissolving into your stomach. You’d wait for it to take effect before you left, called a car. Perhaps, you’d be able to forget this evening had ever happened. You’d go back into the studio in a couple weeks, start on your next album, and this would all just be a dream. Surely, you convince yourself of that. 
There were just a few weeks left in the year anyways. You’d be able to put it all behind you, and maybe, you’d be a new person in the new year. A stupid idea, but a hopeful one, and one that would propel you through the holidays, the end of the tour, and the rest of your life.
A sound on the other side of the door caught your attention, a conversation taking place that you hadn’t heard at first. Hushed voices, under frustrated breaths. For a moment, you couldn’t register that it was Kento’s words that were rushing through the cracks in the plaster, the wood-paneled door, but it shouldn’t have come as any surprise to you.  
He’d been the one to seek you out. Why would he come all this way just to watch you play, without so much as a conversation? You’d been a fool to think otherwise, that you could escape the grasp that the blonde man always seemed to have around you.
“Please, Itadori. I know you remember me. Don’t treat me like a stranger.” Kento sighed heavily, the irritation leaking into his voice as he lowered the tone. “Just let me talk to her.” 
“You can’t be back here,” Yuuji answered, but the hesitation in his tone had you wondering if he was contemplating the opposite. 
After all, Yuuji had been the only one to know about you and Kento; it was hard to keep it a secret from someone who was around you almost always. It was why you trusted him so sincerely. He’d never spilled the truth to anyone, even when he could’ve made thousands with a story like that.
“I just need to see her.” Desperate, almost. The strain of the syllabus tugged at your chest, and though you willed him away, the other part of you, still rancid with sentimental emotions for your ex-lover, begged him to keep pushing. To stand out there until you couldn’t hide any longer. 
“I’m sorry, Nanami. I am, but you’re not authorized. I don’t want to let you in without her permission, and she hasn’t given me that.” 
Kento took a long breath, and didn’t say anything for a moment. His voice went even quieter, and you pressed your ear against the door, straining to hear it. Even the slight inflections of the sighs in his chest had something unfurling within your stomach, comforting and familiar. “Fine.” A shuffling, closer to the door, his shoes against the wood, before his words were nearer to your ear. “I’m sure she’s in there listening to every word anyways. Running as usual.” 
There was no response from Itadori. You could hear the self-satisfaction in Kento’s voice, and he could probably see your shadow under the door, sense you just inches away, somehow.  
You exhaled, and snuffed out the cigarette. Then, you threw the door open. 
Even knowing he’d be there, the sight of Kento still caught you off-guard, but this time, you anticipated it, and remained composed. He stood with his arms crossed, the corners of his lips pulling up smugly, like he’d know that snide remark would be enough, because he’d always known you better than anyone. 
“What the fuck do you want?” you said, narrowing your eyes, darting them all over his face. Still as handsome as you remembered. “You’re not supposed to be back here.”
“You should fire your security team,” Kento said simply, pushing past Yuuji to barge his way into the dressing room. With judgmental brown eyes, he glanced around it, even though you were certain he’d played at this venue before, knew exactly what secrets hid in this room. “They accepted my bribe way too quickly.” 
You stared at him, slammed the door behind you, hopeful that the sounds of the crowd that still rampaged would be enough to drown out your conversation. “Right.” A bitter laugh escaped you, the door rattling on its hinges. “You must feel pretty proud of yourself right now.” 
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Kento’s eyebrows raised, and finally, he stopped perusing the room, crossing his arms over his chest to stare at you. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a while, but I haven’t changed much.” 
What he meant was that he was still an honest man, despite the backwards practices and corruption of the world the two of you lived in. Nanami Kento was a specimen in the scene of music, someone a bit too perfect, seemingly too straight-laced, serious almost to a fault in front of a crowd. He lost himself in the songs, just as you did, but he held himself with some sort of dignity.
Maybe, for that reason, it never made sense for you to be together, anyways. Not when you were an endearing mess, and he was the leader of your band’s closest competition. The group that Toji hated almost as much as the family he’d run away from.
It should’ve been obvious that the two of you were doomed from the start. 
“You can’t just show up, Kento, and demand a conversation. I haven’t talked to you in two years for a reason. Do you really think I want to see you?” 
“I don’t know.” His eyes narrowed, matching your anger. “You let me in, didn’t you?” 
“Because you’re pissing me off, and you’re a stubborn asshole who won’t leave until you get what you want.” Stalking towards him, you poked your finger in the middle of his chest, the touch doing nothing to move him, so strong and statuesque. “Jesus. Nanami fucking Kento, bribing security members, just to talk to me.” You laughed bitterly, a snort leaving you. “After two years, you really must be desperate.” 
There wasn’t any sincerity, and the laugh he returned was hard and mirthless. “I see time has made you kinder.” 
“Fuck off.” You were dangerously close to him, your hand splaying across his broad chest, the scent of him as familiar as ever, his mouth so near your own. It was infuriating how comfortable this felt, how you could slip back into time with him in a way you’d never been able to with Toji. “I never wanted to see you again. Don’t come back to ruin my life. I don’t deserve that.” 
You shoved at him again, and again he didn’t move, his frame hard beneath your palm. 
Kento grabbed your wrist as you tried to pull away, his already deep irises darkening. “Funny. That’s funny.” He searched you for something, and he was sure to find it, even as you schooled your expression into something neutral. It was too hard to hide from him—that’s why you’d run in the first place. “I remember being the one that was left with no explanation. I wanted to marry you, but you disappeared without even a word. Did I deserve that?” 
Though his words didn’t crack, they came close to breaking at the end of the sentence. The silence was sharp, deadly, almost as if you could reach out and touch it. But you didn’t. Kento’s soul-searching gaze dissuaded you from any movement. 
“That’s what you think?” You shook your head, yanking your wrist free as you took a step back. Laughter bubbled out of you, and the anger made it sound crazed, like something that wasn’t quite your own. “You think it was my fault.” 
“Wasn’t it?”
You scoffed once more. “Please. You never would’ve married me. All our time and work would’ve been wasted. Your band means everything to you, and I refused to let either of us drown for something as stupid as love.” 
A beat passed as Kento faltered, conflict twisting his expression before the frustration pulled back, tied up with a fiery bow. “Stupid?” He was cornering you, crowding you to the side of the room. You hadn’t registered your feet moving, but in just a few, quick steps, your back had hit the wall with a thump, his breath fanning across your nose. “That’s what you thought it was? Just a waste of time?” 
“Maybe.” you spat, raising your voice, pushing at his shoulders. “Maybe I just wanted someone better than you.” 
“Well, then, I hope you’ve fucking found it,” Kento’s hands shook at his sides, his eyes twitching with anger. “I hope you’re happy.” 
“I am.”
“Good.” Heavy breaths left him. Somehow, he seemed relieved, as if he thought you’d be the one still holding on, when it was him that had shown up unannounced, staring at you with stars in his eyes. “That’s good. You can hate me all you want, but I want you to be happy. I want you to move on.” 
“God, Kento,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s been two years—”
“I’m getting married.” 
The remark slammed against you, the guarded expression dropping from your face to reveal one of utter bewilderment. For a moment, fleeting as it was, you had no protection against Nanami Kento, who caught it smoothly, the stricken glaze of your eyes, the way your lips had parted without any words to dispel. 
Semi-satisfaction reflected in his own, finally stripping you bare, allowing him to see the truth for what it was—and it was a truth you weren’t sure you’d even accepted yourself. 
“You’re right,” you finally said, and though only a second had passed before you schooled your features back into an impassive position, a second was too long for a man who knew you so sincerely. “I don’t care, Nanami.” 
Kento blinked. 
Gaining the upper hand, you tried to skirt around him, cowering away from his knowing glare, but you couldn’t go anywhere. Kento pinned his hands to the wall beside your head, looking at you through his lower lashes, as if he’d known you would try to escape him. 
Heat bounced between your bodies, the space boiling, passion and rage and a hundred scarlet emotions twisting up in the air you exhaled. Would Toji have been able to read the conflict that manifested between your brows, the way your irises had changed colors, fading into a gradient of listless melancholy?
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that.” Kento said, harsh, cruel, but nothing less than the truth. 
“Is that so?” Your face was forced dangerously close to his own once more, inches between you. “You wanted a different reaction?” A glimpse in his guarded features, and you wondered how anyone could say Nanami was stoic man, when he wore a thousand different emotions on his sleeve. “I’m sorry you deluded yourself into thinking I’d still be in love with you.”
“Right.” Kento’s nose brushed against your own, his eyes so dark. Still, there were flecks of gold visible, just barely, only when you were this close. “All those songs on the radio, all those lyrics you’re getting paid millions for… Those aren’t about me?” he demanded, shaking his head, his expression pinched. “You think I’m an idiot? I know. I know, and you can pretend all you want, but you can’t pretend like you’re not the one who fucked it all up.” 
You scowled, but neither of you moved. “Get out of here, Kento.” 
“No,” he said, breathing heavily, the movement of his tongue over his lip short-circuiting your competence. “Tell me why.” 
“Get out,” you said through gritted teeth.
His face was more severe than you’d ever seen it before, cheekbones sharper from his pinched jaw. “No,” he repeated, glowering down at you, speaking slower, punctuating his words. “Tell me why.” 
“I—” but you couldn’t think straight with his mouth that close to yours, his eyes penetrating your soul, so angry, but not without their usual sweetness. No one had ever loved you the way Nanami had, and you were a fool, but he deserved better than you. He deserved the love he’d wanted, to not settle for someone who wanted fame more than she wanted him. “I hate you.” 
“Funny how, even now, hate still feels a lot like love.” 
You blinked up at him, your expression twitching, lips parting with more poisonous words, fingers shaking with the need to slap him away. Yet, when you moved, planning to push him out of your orbit, Kento moved quicker; the strategy sketched in your mind didn’t quite match the one enacted by your hands. 
“You’re so naive, Kento.” 
His lips were on your own, and you melted instantly, tugging him hard by the lapels in a bruising kiss. It tasted like a familiarity that couldn’t be replicated, tainted by the heavy heat that soaked into you. 
Kento’s hands wrapped around your waist, jerking you forward, fingers easily finding the space between your hipbones, tracing them with a tenderness that was equally filled of devastating need. He tasted strongly of alcohol, like he’d drowned in it hours before, if only to fill himself with the bravery he’d need to speak with you after so long. 
And you were equally a coward; walking naked into a crowd would be easy compared to the feeling of vulnerability that came from Kento’s sweet mouth on your skin. The way he shoved you further into the wall, fingers brushing along your waist, hateful and loving all at once. 
“Stop, Kento,” you said, but it was weak to your own ears, not an ounce of honesty there. His mouth flitted across your neck, warm and tender, and it was different. It was nothing like Toji, who cared about you, maybe even loved you, but had never understood you. 
Not like Kento did. 
“Say it with a little more conviction.” Kento kissed beneath your jaw, hopefully with enough sense not to leave any marks there. “Tell me you want me to leave. That you never wanted to marry me.”
“I do,” you insisted, but it was breathless, your eyes fluttering closed as his hand drifted up your stomach. “I didn’t.” Kento’s palm was warm, burning a hole though the thin material of your top. Before you could protest further, his fingers traced across your breast, thumb dragging across your nipple. 
You shivered, but made no move to push his hand back down.
“Convincing.” Kento smiled. His eyes were melted chocolate, the sort of unmatched comfort you’d never again receive. “Tell me you never loved me.” 
A burning itch started in your nose, foreboding the wave of emotions that would succumb you. You sorted through the hostile regret, forcing yourself not to feel such nostalgia from his embrace. 
Things were better now, weren’t they? You never would’ve made it as a star, had you not escaped the desperate hold of your love for the blonde drummer.
“It’d be a lie. I loved you once.”
“But not anymore?” 
You didn’t let him get much further than that, kissing him without thinking—needing to stop thinking, before you spiraled into the endless cycle of wondering why you’d ever left him at all. The feelings were never-ending, latching on and holding tight, reminding you at inopportune moments of all the mistakes you’d made: him, the worst of all. 
Kento groaned into your mouth as you parted his lips, remembering what he tasted like. His hair was longer now, thick between your fingers, bangs falling in straighter strands over his forehead. Had there ever been a place where you felt safer, than when his arms were warm and secured around your waist?
“You didn’t answer my question,” Kento panted into your mouth, his cheeks flushed, skin warmed from the way that your hands roamed all over his chest. 
“No more talking.” You pushed him backwards towards the sofa, this one a deep, velvety green, a contrast to the orange hues of the rest of the room. “I’m tired of talking.” 
Kento seemed like he wanted to protest, but his anger had melted, and his eyes were soaked in lust, pupils blown wide. Objections about how you never talked, always beat around the bush, erupted, then died. For once, he relented. “Fine.” Kento’s voice had deepened, the irritation coated by whatever semblance of affection he still held for you. “If that’s what you want.” 
You tugged at his belt buckle, wishing you could move faster, even as Kento undid the ties that held your loose top together. It fell off your shoulders, and you finally ripped the belt from the loops, unzipping the tight slacks that had paired well with his worn jacket. 
His skin was hot beneath the garments, and Kento’s muscles were even more defined from all his years of playing the drums. He’d kept himself healthy as the time had passed, never indulging in anything as often as his bandmates. 
You felt sick with need for him, confused as you sorted through how much of your aching chest was love, and how much was a desire that you could’ve felt for anyone. 
“Fuck,” Kento muttered against your mouth as you slipped a hand under his shirt, feeling your way across his abdomen. “It’s been so fucking long.” 
He was so perfect. How could you ever have forgotten? Not even the magazines with their fancy cameras could do him justice. Kento was a work of art, a masterful creation, and you were jealous of anyone else who had gotten close enough to see it. 
“I—” you opened your mouth to say you missed him, or maybe something else, but you bit it back down, not wishing to showcase yourself so openly. Instead, you pulled at the hem of his shirt, frustrated when it wouldn’t come off. 
Kento’s knees hit the back of the sofa, and he fell, pulling you onto his lap, gazing up at you with an affection you didn’t deserve. His fingers covered your own, and he helped you jerk the tight shirt off his chest, the material doing little to cover his marbled figure. 
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said into your ear, low and husky, his hands slipping down your jeans, shifting you up to ease the material off your thighs. “The whole word knows it; you’re an angel on the covers of all those magazines. Can’t stand it when Satoru and Suguru talk about you,” he grumbled against your mouth, throwing your jeans to the ground as you wiggled out of them. 
You laughed, wondering why it was always so easy with Kento, to smile, to shift your palpable anger into something less fragile.
“Yeah?” you muttered against his mouth, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties, so cold against your bare skin. “I bet you go home and jerk off to the covers of me, don’t you, Kento?” 
Kento grinned against your lips as you traced your fingers against his jaw, somewhat tenderly, and with a possessiveness you’d always struggled to reign in. The bulge in his pants was more than obvious, straining against the tight cloth. “What gave you that idea, sweetheart?” 
Your eyes fluttered shut, mouth drifting across his own, tasting the air between you as you tugged his cock free. It was warm and familiar in your palm, and though it wasn’t like fucking Toji, you’d never forget exactly how to touch Nanami Kento.
“I know,” you said, stroking him, feeling the length in your hand, the vein running along it, “because that’s exactly what I do.” 
The admittance left you before you could think to refute it, and Kento didn’t let you, kissed you harder, realizing that no matter how far you strayed from one another, there would always be a cord attaching you together. 
“Shit,” Kento rasped, his head falling backwards as your thumb grazed over the tip of his cock, your thighs straddling his own. “That sweet mouth of yours always knows just what to say.” 
Your cheeks warmed, a smile gracing your expression as you dragged your hips across his thigh, leaning forward to kiss him. It’d been a while since you’d wanted anyone so badly, a craving soaking into every vein of your body, buzzing with desire. Need settled deep in your stomach; your kisses grew sloppy. Your lips were coated and glossed with Kento’s own saliva, puffy from how hard he pressed his hand to the back of your neck. 
“Do you think of me when you fuck your fiancée too?” you asked, stroking him without even looking, the movements from memory, his pre-cum glistening on your palm. “Do you look at her and wish it was me instead?” 
Kento groaned deeply in the back of his throat, his face flashing with the anger you’d intentionally put back there. Quicker than you’d anticipated, he’d flipped you onto your back, towering over you. His face was pinched as he kissed down your neck, across your collarbones, down your stomach.
You wanted him to regret this, to feel every ounce of the infidelity he was committing. To make him admit to himself that whatever pretty woman was waiting at home would never compare to the one he had never stopped wanting. 
“I could ask you the same question,” Kento said, his mouth on your thighs, squeezing his fingertips into the soft skin of your knees. “Fucking Fushiguro. He always wanted you so bad, and I couldn’t stand it.” Genuine hatred dripped off his words as he leaned back over you, his fingers hovering over your clothed cunt, contrasted with the satisfaction of his expression. “Now he has you,” Kento said, dropping his fingertips over your panties, feeling the spot where you were already soaking through the material, “but I still own this pretty pussy.” 
You gripped his biceps as his fingers rubbed small circles into your clit, a sideways grin forming onto his dark lips. “Kento,” you breathed, nails digging into his arms. “I want you to fuck me.” 
“You make it too easy, baby,” he said softly, even when his cock was painfully hard, leaking between the two of you. “Just have to say a few words and you’re already soaking wet for me.”
Your lips parted as Kento slipped his fingers underneath your panties, and the contact of his hands on your cunt, after so much time, had a sharp exhale leaving your chest. 
“N-no, wait—” you stuttered, pushing his hands away as you slipped the lacy material off your hips. “Just fuck me, Ken, I can take it.” You reached for his cock, but his eyes flashed, annoyance sparking in his eyes. “I just want you inside.” 
“I’ve got you all to myself finally, and now you want to rush it?” Kento glared, forcing your hands back down beside you. He was so much stronger than you, and though you needed him to touch you, he spread your legs further instead, let nothing but the cool air kiss your bare cunt. “Don’t.” 
You whimpered as he released your wrists, leaned down to brush his tongue through your folds. Your eyes fluttered closed, and he gathered the slick up into his lips, tasting you, his nose brushing against your clit. 
A deep sigh reverberated in the room as you felt your love for him wash over you, a love that was once hidden away, but not eradicated. It coated you, made your lust only double, and sentimental blabber began to leave your mouth, as Kento forced his tongue deeper into your aching hole.
“I missed you, Ken,” you said, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your gripped his blonde hair, hatred for yourself just as strong as adoration for him. You weren’t supposed to be crying, not now, not when this wasn’t supposed to be sex at all, but some sort of hateful fucking that was slowly turning into desperate lovemaking. “I missed you.” 
Kento smiled softly against you before pulling away, his mouth soaked from your arousal. “I know, sweetheart,” he said, looking at you tenderly; it made you sick to think that there would be a ring on his finger soon. You’d go back to your hotel room with Toji, and he’d go back to the fiancee that deserved him more than you did. “My pretty girl.” 
“Don’t say things, like that.” You steadied your emotions, as, finally Kento pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, the wrinkle between his brow forming as he watched you carefully. “Don’t be sweet to me.” 
You’d gotten used to fucking Toji, who was thicker and longer than Kento; and Kento slid right into you like he was meant to be there, your body relaxed and willing. A groan left him, and he laced his fingers with your own, squeezed your hands together against the armrest of the sofa. 
“Why?” Kento asked, emotions guarded by curiosity. You swallowed, leaned your head back with a heavy breath as he inched inside of you. “Don’t want to admit you’re still in love with me?”
“I’m not—” But you were cut off, your objections falling flat as Kento’s eyes fluttered closed.
“Fuck, fuck,” he said, drawing out the word like it was more than one syllable, his deep, throaty tone parting your lips. There was a flush on his cheeks, pink, his forehead sweaty as the blonde strands stuck to it. 
You’d always loved his hair down—maybe, it was because of you that it became his signature. 
“You feel so good,” he said, drawing himself out of you, thrusting back in, pushing further and further until he had bottomed out completely. “God, I don’t remember you ever squeezing me so tight before.”
He sounded drunk on the feeling of you; you couldn’t help the start of a smile that formed on your face as he fucked you, losing his sanity while he succumbed to pleasure. There were sinful sounds between you, and you felt a little outside of yourself, knowing that you still had a hold on one of the most famous drummers in the entire world. 
Kento kissed you all over your face, and you lifted your hips to meet him, wishing you could take him deeper, let him soak into your entire body.
“Do you regret it?” Kento whispered, his thrusts growing faster, cock throbbing inside of you. “Or do you just regret me?”
You opened your eyes to meet his dark, sweet irises. A man like him shouldn’t have fallen for someone like you, should never have stooped down to love you. The truth rested on your tongue, but when Kento hit deep a spot within you, dizziness sparked at the back of your mind, and a lie slipped out instead. 
“I don’t regret anything, Kento,” you said, smiling lazily, like you didn’t have a care in the world. “Least of all, leaving you.” 
To your surprise, Kento laughed, light and carefree, even though it was stuttered, raspy from his need. “You always were a good liar,” he reached between you, brushing his thumb over your clit with a hazy expression. “Much better than me.” 
Once again, Kento saw right through you, reminding you of why you’d gone your separate ways. It was dangerous to have someone around that you couldn’t hide from. 
“Ken,” you whimpered, gripping his wrists when you realized how close you were. There was anguish interlaced with your arousal, but your orgasm was approaching all the same. You clenched around him a little harder, swallowing, and Kento smirked, his voice husky. 
“I know, sweetheart,” he said, his tone dropping, almost commanding, in a way that he knew always had you writhing helpless under him. “Pussy’s clenching me so tight. You gonna cum for me, baby?” he said into your skin, fucking deeper into you. “Let go.” 
The instant relief washed over you, and you groaned, loud into the room, coming hard around Kento’s cock, your body shaking as he worked you through the orgasm. 
A smile formed as he kissed your mouth, forcing words down your throat. “That’s it,” he hummed. “Always so perfect for me. I missed you, I love you so much,” and his words turned desperate while he dragged himself out of you, forcefully, trying hard not to let himself go.
“It’s okay, Kento,” you said, stupidly, crazily, running your hands all over him. “You can come inside me.” 
Kento's mind drew a blank, and he groaned deeply, nearly collapsing on top of you as he came, spilling his thick, hot cum into your cunt. And you were an idiot, a fool, because you’d never let Toji do that, never let him fuck you without a condom, but Toji wasn’t Kento—
and you would’ve let Nanami Kento do anything to you. 
Kento held you close to him, squeezing you to his chest as you both breathed heavily, remembering what it was like to be in each other’s arms. His cock grew soft, and his cum spilled out of you, soaking your thighs, ruining the sofa beneath you. 
“Did you mean it?” you asked, running your fingers through his blonde hair as he rested his head on your chest, arms warm around your body. “Do you love me?” 
The air grew stale, thick with the sins committed in the room. Kento smiled, kissed your neck, and said nothing. 
“Do you love her?” you asked, begging for an answer, not knowing who she even was. Not knowing if you cared.
“I do.” 
“But not as much as you love me.” 
He tipped his chin up on your chest, looking at you with sad, dark eyes. “I don’t know,” he admitted, tracing his fingertips across your stomach. “But I love you enough to do this to her. That must mean something.” 
Maybe, you thought, running an analog through your mind of all the reasons that could lead anywhere but affection. You’d both been under a lot of stress recently, times changing as you reached fame. It was nice to think back to a life before all that, when all you’d had was some cash in your pocket, and a dingy nightclub to play to. 
Perhaps you reminded each other of that.
You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, your hand stilling against his scalp. “What does it mean, Kento?” 
The moment passed between you, where things were hollow and empty. You could see a lifetime stretched out in front of you, but it was all in shades of grey, nothing sketched in a thick, black outline. Nothing concrete.
What you knew for sure was that you would break his heart again.
Maybe not soon, but eventually. Toji would hate you when he found out, your bandmates would hate you for lying to them. You and Kento would never live in peace, and instead, you'd spend the rest of your life stalked by the press, flashes blinding you, tabloids written about you, paranoia spiking in your chest as they tried to convince you that he was cheating on you with his bandmate.
It would be a disaster. 
It would be even more heartbreaking than saying goodbye. 
“It means that if you say you want me, I’ll break it off.” Kento sat up, bringing you with him, suddenly serious. “I can live without you, but I don’t want to. I love you, I’ve always loved you. Just say the words.” He kissed you softly, pleading with you, lips all over your face. “Say that you still love me, and we can get through anything.”
You exhaled a breathy laugh, tracing his features, wondering why that made you feel so sad. It was a good thing, wasn’t it? Kento could live without you, and you wanted him to. 
Even if you couldn’t live without him. 
“It was good to see you,” you said, letting his hands fall off your face as you slipped away, begging the tears to just stay put, to stay gone until you could get Kento out of the room. “Hard to believe I’ve made a cheater out of you, Nanami Kento.” 
His face fell, smile dropping as he stared back, like that was the last thing he’d expected you to say. You turned your back to him, slinking away as you picked your clothes up off the floor, tugging your jeans back on. “Why—”
“Don’t let me ruin your marriage,” you continued, ruffling your hair to put it back into position, plaster a grin on your face despite the agony you felt. “I know I’m pretty, but I’m just not worth it.” 
“Stop that,” Kento stood, taking two strides to you, his eyes desperate, wild, but you stopped him, your arm outstretched, keeping your distance. "Don't stay that."
“I meant what I said, Kento. I’m happy with Toji, I’m happy with the band, and you’re happy with your fiancée. I’m not going to let you fuck any of that up.” You pushed him away, and this time he stumbled, didn’t bother to chase after you. “I missed you, but I don’t want to be with you.”
Kento searched your eyes, but you kept your face neutral, hard, emotionless. He couldn’t doubt your sincerity, and for once, he couldn’t spot your lie.
Finally, he sunk back in on himself. Nodded once. “I should go, then.” 
"You should," you said firmly. “Take care of yourself.” 
Kento licked his lips. He sorted himself back out, jeans zipped, shirt tucked. His hair looked every bit as perfect as it had when he walked in, even if he looked twice as sad.
“I love you,” he tried, once more, pausing with his hand on the door handle.
Sometimes, though, love wasn’t enough. 
You smiled, and wrapped an arm around yourself, knowing that, people could call you a lot of things, but they could never call you selfish.
“Please don’t send me an invitation to your wedding, Kento.”
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1-marigold-1 · 5 months
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An AU thingy that umm, please listen to my ramble I beg you :[
Hello!!! Had this AU in mind for a bit too long decided to dump it all here :] sorry if it's all a bit messy I'm bad at organising those stuff hghghgghg <-- delusional (explanation and story below the images)
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So:
I call it the FMN AU [Forget-Me-Not] and it's set in a fantasy world of course, in a great Empire of Heremitaran.
Because of how big the Empire is, it's divided in two, with two rulers: Ren The King of the North known for his bravery, plenty of victories, feared by those outside of his Empire , and the other one in the Sout is ... well... Mumbo.. (yes he's a king because his father died, he sucks at it tho, can't help but be that wet poor cat and not knowing what to do).
And that's when we come in with Grian and Scar.
There's a crown, to be specific, called the Vacivus Halo which is safely kept in Ren's vault , away from the rest of the world. It's the most powerful thing ever known, and Watchers are ready to fight for it against Listeners, who are worshipped by most of north people and Ren himself. The war those two spiecies of angel-gods started over a crown has been going for many centuries and now when Listeners has had it for themselves for so long, Watchers start to fear that they might use it against them to finally get rid of the enemy.
The crown has been under Watchers' control for some time too, that's when they tasked Mumbo's father with protecting it, but he died at war, crown got stolen, landed in Ren's hands and now all they got is Mumbo... They quickly realized that he's definetely not... well.. worthy? So they give the task of getting it back to an orphan living near the palace. He's a poor chicken keeper until he meets one of The Watchers disguised as a snake, asking him for help, the snake promises him everything he wants. So he agrees.
He gets powers such as:
Manipulating others' minds [putting images and memories that never existed before into anyone's head ]. It's his most powerful ability that he uses by just looking into their eyes, yet there's one thing about it: he can't make people forget the things he puts in their heads.
Flight, he has a cape that turns into wings when needed.
He can see what his snake sees whenever he wants, so he can use it to spy on people.
With those abilities he fools everyone at the palace into believing he's Mumbo's new guard and personal assasin, so he can be always close to the ruler who should be visiting the North very soon... he also makes friends with the young king, they get along pretty well.
Meanwhile Scar has a simmiliar story, though he was an assasin and Ren's guard before Listeners chose him. Ren is still in a good shape and probably will still be a good protector of the crown, but they felt like they need more than one If Watchers ever plan on getting the crown back, so they chose Scar by appearing to him as a cat, they wanted to tell him that they are ready to give him anything he wishes for but he was like "KITTY!!!!!!!! HELLO YOU SO CUTE!!" and agreed right away, just to have a scarf that turns into a cat...... he likes cats alright, he's been feeling pretty lonely recently too...
Scar's powers are:
Super speed [he got it with the boots]
Sensitive Hearing
Completely silent walking
He also got his cat [he named it Jellie because it's semi-transparent like a jelly when in not-scarf form lol] that can transform into a tiger like creature sometimes.
Yeah guess what.
They meet. Grian and Scar. They. Meet.
And they uhhh kinda make friends with eachother and don't really think that they might be enemies.
Watchers don't know that Scar is Listeners' servant, and the other way around, Listeners don't know that Grian is Watchers' servant.
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Things escalate from here...... and that's where the story starts!
I have plans on making short comics and stories to tell you the lore piece by piece, but be aware that updates won't be very often, I'll try tho!
ASK ABOUT ANYTHING I WILL ANSWER THE QUESTIONS
Also
Just wanted to add that I made this AU long time ago and Jellie is a fundamental thing in it, very important, as much as she was important to all of us, may she rest in peace <3
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mimixmunson · 1 month
Note
eddie or steve with alternative!reader, like face piercings, black makeup, allat stuff
and nsfw or not but they would just be so smitten and follow them around and nod dumbly to whatever reader says bcus theyre so pretty and scary looking
<33
- 🦴
Belly button piercings. Steddie x female reader. Smut. Blurb.
I’m so sorry this is basically not what you asked for but I tried!! Hope this is okay! I really got in ‘the zone’ and wrote this all in one lmao!
You first noticed them when you were working, it was a Thursday afternoon, and you were waiting for your next appointment to arrive. Your client wanted a belly button piercing, something you’d done a million times in your job as a body piercer, it was second nature to you now. Especially since you have so many metal adjustments to yourself too, several facial piercings that happen to catch people’s eyes. You get complimented on your vertical labret often, but your favourite was the piercing that only you were allowed to see at the moment, single life really was keeping you from excitement.
They stood shyly in the doorway, the dark haired boy seemingly more confident than the brunette. He stood a little taller, had some ear piercings himself and as he took off his jacket, handing it to the other guy, you noticed his tattoos. You had a few of your own, some of which you’d actually given yourself. The long haired guy fiddled with his rings, he basically had one on each finger, the skull one catching your eye the most. It was cool, you make a mental note to see if you can find one of those for yourself.
The more metal looking of the men spoke, “Hi. I’m Eddie. I’m here for my piercing?” He had a great voice, he definitely was confident like you had expected. You offer him a friendly smile and show him out back to your studio after taking his payment, giving him his consent form and running him through the aftercare. “Can my boyfriend come too?” He questioned shyly, holding the brunette man’s hand behind his back. You nod and laugh, assuming he can’t be afraid of needles if he’s got so many tattoos. “Follow me, both of you are welcome, there’s always room for an emotional support person. Even if you are a pretty metal head or a…” You stood still and looked him up and down. “Frat boy?” You laugh, hoping to get the same reaction from them, it always helped to make jokes to ease your clients nerves.
In the kindest possible way they looked stupid, like they’d seen a ghost. Eddie’s jaw had dropped, he’s practically drooling at the compliment and his boyfriend? His cheeks are bright red. He nods dumbly, like every single thought in his pretty head had been knocked out by your comment.
“I don’t need!- whatever. This is Steve.” Eddie shakes his head and chuckles at your joke. “Thank you for letting me watch, I kinda wanted to see how you do this whole piercing thing, I’m tempted to get one myself.” Steve spoke finally, his voice a lot softer than Eddie’s. His face was flushed, embarrassed by his own words.
You mark up Eddie’s belly button, making sure the lining you drew was straight and offer him a look in the mirror. As he stands upright, staring at the pen marks on his midriff you notice them for the second time that day. But it wasn’t just them, it was how they looked at you. Their eyes followed you, ever since they stood hunched over in the doorway of the waiting room. Their eyes never left you, dancing around your face and more recently, your pants.
You’d been ogled over before, sort of part and parcel of the job. Men had come into your studio just to ask you if you had any “naughty” piercings or assume you must be freaky in bed because you’re tatted and pierced. But you didn’t mind the way they were looking at you. Almost like you were an enigma, a paradox.
“Stevie here’s acting scared but don’t let him fool you, he likes a bit of pain.” Eddie giggles over his own words whilst Steve shoots him a look, giving him daggers. You noticed the way Steve blushed again, it’s adorable really. His cheeks flushed at everything. “Is that so? Well the belly button piercing is just a little pinch really, the clamp is the worst part. Just breathe through it and it’s over. I promise, I’ll be gentle. To you that is, might have to be a little more rough with this one huh? He seems insistent on embarrassing you doesn’t he, sweetheart?” You motion to Eddie, wiggling the capped needle around in your fingers. Steve threw his head back in laughter, squeezing Eddie’s hand in his own, “t-thanks.” He stutters through his words, you could definitely see this guy being a submissive. His entire nature is submissive. Your mind escapes you as you imagine what he’d look like tied to your bed. Would Eddie join you in dominating Steve or would you have them both at your mercy?
That was a hell of a way to break the ice, finding out your client’s boyfriend is a pain slut definitely was a new one. Fantasising about your clients even more so, but they are so endearing.
“Okay you ready?” You glance up at Eddie, he nods and you position your needle. “And 3, 2, 1, aaaand done.” You feed the needle through his belly button, you remove the needle and leave the plastic tube inside the freshly pierced hole. “And here’s the stingy part.” You mutter as you thread his chosen jewellery through the plastic tube of the needle and twists the ball on top, wiping and sterilising his belly button. “How was it?” Steve questioned, still looking at Eddie through his fingers across his eyes. “Completely fine babe, princess here has magic fingers.” He shoots you a smirk in an attempt to fluster you back for earlier.
“Sure do. Are you up next Steve? I have time to slot you in now, I’ve got a free hour.” Inquiring as clean up your work space once more. “N-no. Maybe next time.” He responds with the weakest smile you’ve ever seen. He’s scared, if any of the goosebumps on his skin suggest, that’s understandable. Poor thing, he’s a completely blank canvas and a piercing is a pretty big commitment to make. Eddie smiles, whispering something in-audible to Steve which of course left him with a flushed face again.
You squat down to your drawers to reach a form, and as you bend over you hear a groan. Well more of a grunt, you smirk whilst your back is turned. These boys were too cute. Wondering which of them you could make yours first, maybe take the easy frightened little lamb and watch his protector follow. What sounds would they make? You could break down the act that Eddie puts up and make him melt in your hands? Was the act he puts up all a ploy, was Steve the top? So many questions run through your mind, but you knew something for certain. This was precious. These boys were precious. Behind you, you hear some giggling. Still searching for the feedback form you have to leave it up to your imagination, but it ate at you. What were they giggling about? You hadn’t imagined the handcuffs attached to Eddie’s belt, maybe he was teasing him by showing Steve what he’d be tied with that night? Maybe they’d pointed at you pretty ass bend over so nicely on display for them and daydreamed about having you in those cuffs?
You twist your face over your shoulder to face them as you pick up the form, your elbows squeezing together ‘accidentally’. Steve shys away from looking but you can tell he wants to, it was obvious. His eyes darted around the room, from the mirror across from you, and back to your chest. Whereas Eddie? His jaw was on the floor, his vision transfixed on your chest.
“Okay, well in that case when you’re ready I need you, Eddie to fill in this form about how your experience was here today. We give them to all our clients.”
You commanded, handing him the form and a pen, watching as he filled it out pretty quickly. It was cute, through the whole time you’d spent together, Steve hadn’t let go of Eddie’s hand. Following him around like a lost dog, but he still couldn’t stop his eyes from moving over you. Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand again and he looks down at his lap. Oh. Was it the pain of the piercing or your body that made that tent in his pants appear? Steve bites his lip and reaches out to palm his hand over Eddie’s bulge. He squirms and swats at his boyfriend’s hands. Oh god could they get any cuter, flustered and bratty? The things you could do.
He shuffles his jacket across his waist, hoping you hadn’t seen it. Handing you the form back, you walk them both back into the waiting room. You sign the form to prove you had administered the piercing, handing it back to Eddie to take his copy home for safe keeping. Chewing on your pen lid, you giggle as the leave your studio. You wonder how long it will be until they read the note you left them on the paper.
“Let me know if you want that piercing Stevie, I think you’d both suit little matching belly bars. The cutest boys. If I’ve read this wrong ignore me and I apologise but if I haven’t? Call me. *phone number*.”
Well you’ve had worse days at work.
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thatsdemko · 1 year
Text
brothers best friend - c.leclerc
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masterlist
requested: n
pairings: charles leclerc x gasly!fem!reader
warnings: reader & Charles are oblivious + mentions of alcohol + flirting(if you squint) + drivers & wags being wingmen/women
a/n: can you tell i love a gasly x Charles moment?? gonna plan to do a leclerc x Pierre soon! feedback is always appreciated xx.
it’s a tail as old as time. one everyone sees coming besides the two of you. you’ve liked him ever since you were kids, and he’s liked you ever since high school. you’ve slipped from each others reaches many times up until now. both single and highly unaware of each others feelings.
he’s got his arm draped around the back of your chair. he’s watching you laugh at a joke your brother, Pierre, made. he loves the crinkle lines that form around your eyes, the dimples in your cheeks that you try to cover up with your hands, and the way your head falls back into a laughing fit. god, he’s so obsessed with you.
“what do you say? we call it a night?” Pierre turns to kika, the younger girl shakes her head under your brothers loving gaze.
“no y/n hasn’t finished her wine. it would be rude to leave a glass half empty.” in a way, kika is trying to help you out. she sees the way the both of you look at each other. she’s rooting for tonight to be the night you confess your feelings. it’s why she’s so adamant you finish the glass of wine Charles insisted to pay for.
that’s right, Charles paid for your meal. he refused to let your brother pick up the tab, in fact the two men played rounds of rock, paper, scissors, shoot to declare a clear winner.
“I don’t mind waiting with y/n, if you guys want to leave?” charles suggests. just as Pierre begins to thank him, kika is cutting him off beginning to chat you up. you know what the girl is doing, she’s smart, but you’re a little too tipsy to put up a fight.
“come on, amour. I’m tired.” your brothers whine falls unnoticed to her, but you pick it up sticking your tongue out at him that his own girlfriend was more interested in you than him.
“tell me, y/n, can I count on you to be with me in the alpine garage? or is there someone else?” kika leans in, chin resting in her palm eyeing Charles uneasy shift in his seat. his arm is still draped around the back of your chair, every so often you catch his finger tips grazing the skin on your back.
“someone else? no, I’ll support my brother.” you laugh taking a swig of the contents, eyes finding your brother who’s gesturing to his watch like he has places to be other than the comfort of his bed.
she flashes you a wink beginning to grab her things feeling Pierre pull her arm whispering things that none of you could make out. you’re sure it has to do with him wanting to fall asleep and go home, “have fun with him.” you chuckle, both of you waving your goodbyes to the couple, leaving you both alone now.
“you know you can always visit me.” Charles voice is quiet, he feels so small around you. you hold that gasly elegance that lights up any room and demands attention. he loves it, but he gets intimidated more by you and the power in your hands as if he’s not used to it. as if he hasn’t been around it since you were kids.
“oh Charles, she’s just fooling around.” you sip the last of your wine, feeling the palm of his hand rub against your back almost sure the wine in your mouth was about to come back up.
“if you say so, come on.” he gets up from his seat pulling his jacket off to drape around your shoulders. you thank him with a quick peck on the cheek before following him out of the restaurant to his custom Ferrari.
of all the times you’ve been in Pierre’s fancy cars, nothing compared to the thrill of the Ferrari. especially when Charles drove. his hand always dangerously moved across the center console towards your thigh. your hand usually presses on top of his indicating you don’t want him to move.
he allows you to roll the window down, hair whipping in the wind that the speed of the car has created. if he wasn’t driving, he totally would take the opportunity to watch you. he can see out the corner of his eyes, the smile on your lips as you reach to turn up the radio. favorite song blasting through his speakers, you didn’t care what fans took videos and who saw, you both are in your own world.
he pull into his driveway, reaching to turn the music down now that the joy ride was over, “do you mind if I crash? I can’t drive.” you nervously turn to him knowing the answer was yes, but you still felt it was polite to ask. he secretly wanted you to spend the night, he wants to have more time with you so of course he’s happily agreeing.
“cherie, you can spend as many nights as you want.” he sheepishly smiles watching you climb out of his car, heels crashing against the pavement following him inside.
“you know where the guest room is, I’ll find some clothes you can sleep in. maybe something Ferrari?” he jokes following you up the stairs, both splitting ways. as much as you know he’s joking, he’s also serious. he gives you a Ferrari shirt with the number 16 on it telling you to keep it for the next race.
“Charles, I can’t show up to the alpine garage in red.” you sigh pulling the shirt into your lap, nails tracing the numbers.
“that’s for when you join me, cherie. kika can cheer for Pierre while you cheer for me.”
the bright red reflects into your sunglasses as you walk the paddock arm in arm with kika. two of you happy to be back at the paddock to support Pierre, but also Charles. he had paddock Ferrari passes arrive at your hotel room before you even entered the space, he so badly wanted you there for him.
“I can’t believe you actually do have someone else to root for.” kika stops in front of the alpine hospitality, for the first time this season you won’t be joining her and your brother. even though you had the alpine pass in your back pocket, Charles was adamant he shows you around a winning garage.
you practically laugh at her words, “please Charles is just a friend.” your words feel weird coming off your tongue. she remembers the many drunk nights you confessed feelings for Charles. she knows you’re lying trying to save face, and in a way your heart reminds you too. because there comes the Ferrari driver in his red pants and red polo with a team member. god, he looked so good in those pants.
“okay if you say so,” she moves up the stairs to the alpine hospitality, you catch your brother in the window and he just waves at you. as much as he wants to be protective of you and tell you not to date Charles, he’s rooting for you both. he knows his friend is trying to hide his feelings for you, but he has the worlds worst poker face.
“cherie, red is your color.” Charles places a friendly kiss to your cheek, both of you turning to walk in the direction of the Ferrari garage. his hand placement is dangerously low on your back as he steers you away from media and fans attempting to walk up to him. he politely declines answering questions, but happily takes pictures with his fans.
you love watching the little smile form on his face hearing words of encouragement for the Ferraris and to him. in a way, he’s hoping you pick up on how much people adore him, he thinks maybe it’ll help you fall in love with him. of course, he’s oblivious and doesn’t know you already are in love with him.
“people really do love you.” you turn once more, heading in an area that was only for drivers and the people who had exclusive access— the garages. he stops and wishes a few drivers well on free practice, they do the same, and even a few give you some confused looks as to why you’re in a Ferrari shirt and not wearing something pink for alpine.
“I hardly notice.” he shrugs trying to play cool, but you read right through it and just laugh pushing your body against his side. he gladly wraps his arm around your waist arriving to the garage where Carlos and isa are chatting with some engineers.
“oh finally someone to talk with!” isa grabs your hands, completely ignoring whatever her boyfriend was now talking about, “thank you, Charles for finally getting another girl in here.” she flashes a smirk to him and he’s sputtering trying to find words. Carlos just laughs having never seen him so lost before.
“don’t get too excited y/n is just Charles friend.” Carlos pats the younger man on the shoulder, “right?” he asks, and it’s like everyone around here knows something you don’t. the words Carlos used hurt a little, but what did you expect? Charles is not smitten for you, it’s the other way around.
“I mean she is my friend but she’s not like just a friend you know?” Charles tries to explain himself but he fails to find the right words. you all watch his face turn the color of his outfit and it’s quite funny. it’s the first time you actually notice he thinks of you as more than what you thought.
“come on isa, let’s leave Charles to finally ask y/n out.” Carlos takes his girlfriend, and the two disappear in the garage leaving you two alone.
you wait, arms crossing over your chest you move closer to him, “don’t be shy, you should know my answer.” you look up at him, eyes glimmering in the light it’s the first time he notices the dilation in your pupils for him.
“you actually want to go out with me?” he’s shocked, all this time he thinks his gestures have gone unnoticed or fallen on deaf ears, but in reality you were right there picking them up.
“if you don’t ask you’ll never know.” you say in a sing song tone, he takes a step closer now, there’s barely any space between the two of you. you can practically hear his breathing pattern under all the noise.
“y/n, will you go on a date with me?”
“was getting worried you’d never ask me, but yes I will.”
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recuira · 8 months
Text
after hours
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after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction
for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.
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chapter one | caution. chaos. coconut. his pov;
I didn't like to put a label on things; doing so made things too specific, too real. And for me, I preferred for things to seem as unspecific and false as possible.
I preferred for things to be simple. There is beauty in simplicity.
Maybe that's why I found her to be so gorgeous.
She was simple.
There was not a single thing I didn't know about her. I didn't need to go out of my own way to find out her favorite color or food - she told me (though not directly). She told them. She told everyone. She was rather open about herself while I kept everything private. I had my reasons to remain rather anonymous and to stay out of the spotlight and thrive in the shadows while she glistened in the spotlight. She was an open book.
But I still wanted to read her.
I wanted to study her.
And maybe that's why I traveled to the North Blue - to be closer to her. But I wouldn't admit that aloud. I would seem rather insane if she knew, and I wasn't insane. My mind operated differently to others. I was often classified as different and odd, especially by my peers when I was still in school. I was teased to be the quiet kid, picked on because of my nose. I was deemed to be the one most likely to commit some type of horrid act. They weren't wrong, but no one likes to be judged for how they truly are.
She didn't judge me.
Well, of course, she didn't even know me.
But she wasn't the type to judge. Which made my appeal to her even more strong and wild. I was finally able to watch her up close, months after first discovering a rare form of art like her.
The bar was packed, much to my dismay. I liked things to remain quiet despite my love for disarray. I was able to think when it was quiet. I’ve always had thousands of thoughts racing through my mind, so much so that it was difficult to pick a single train and hop on board. But when my eyes landed on her, my mind settled.
She was sitting alone in the corner of the bar, a large round booth all to herself. She had a small yet cute smile on her round face as she sipped on a beverage. Not alcohol- no, she hated alcohol, which is why I cut back on it. I wanted to be the best version of myself for her. Well, whenever I got the courage to talk to her, that is. She made me cower in fear, in anxiety. Someone so timid and fragile as her made someone like me- a pirate, a killer, a clown fall to his knees. I was a fool for her.
Lifting up my drink, I took a sip of the carbonated juice, grimacing as the alcoholic tang was nonexistent. I scoured and gave in, waving down one of the waitresses to add something to my drink. Maybe then I would be able to think straight and finally be able to talk to her. I needed something to fog my judgement and give me the balls to go talk to her- although my dick was confidence enough. God, the way she made me feel was impeccable. She made my pants tighten when she took a sip of her drink. I watched her pink lips suck on the straw as she kicked her feet and examined a newspaper on the wooden table. I squirmed in my seat and leaned back, a deep sigh leaving my lips.
Once the waitress topped off my drink, I waved her off and continued to sit by myself, admiring the maiden who sat by herself. By herself? God, I still didn’t get that. How was she alone? How was she sitting by herself in a bar as crowded as this one? She had friends, many of them. She had family, too. But why must she sit in silence and all by her lonesome?
I huffed and itched at the back of my neck, my hand dragging down to grab my chin and cover my nose. I clenched my jaw and pondered the possibility that my ego would actually allow me to stand up, walk over to her, and sit across from her. Maybe I could buy her a drink? But nevertheless, I remained glued to my seat, downing at least three glasses of whiskey. I lost track.
I lost complete track of time that whenever I finally came back to, she was standing tall, slinging her coat back over her shoulders, and starting for the door. I gulped and turned, my eyes following her. But before she could leave the bar and disappear for the night, a tall, stout man blocked her exit. I squinted my eyes.
“And where do you think ‘yer going?” The pirate smirked, his arms folding over his chest. His belly bounced as he laughed. “Going so soon?”
“Please let me by,” She instructed, trying to budge past the weighted man but to no avail, he stood still. “What is it you want?”
“To see you undressed.”
I grabbed the edge of the table, feeling my body grow hot. It wasn’t because of her, though it mostly always was. She had an effect on me. But this man, he angered me, fucking enraged me. I could feel my blood beginning to boil as he continued to harass both her and me.
“Oh, come on, what’s a sexy little lady like you got going on tonight?” The fat man hummed, reaching forward to grab hold of the leather backpack that hung over her shoulder’s. She shoved him away and backed up.
“I’ll find another exit,” She announced and turned on her heel, starting to head to the back of the bar where other patrons parted through.
“Come on!”
She walked right past me, speeding down the aisle. I closed my eyes and inhaled the sweet, delicate scent of her perfume and shampoo. Vanilla and coconut. Fuck me.
“I can walk you home!”
She stopped in her steps and faced the obese pirate, her arms folding over her chest. “Fuck off, you pig!” She spat, eyes rolling as she started to turn around once again but she stopped, and looked at me.
Oh my god, she looked at me.
At me.
“Baby, can we go?”
I blinked. What?
“Please?” She asked, looking at me with such desperation in her eyes that a tent started to form in my pants.
What? What was she doing? I didn’t know whether to accept or deny. Why was she doing this? Was she delusional? Stupid? Hallucinogenic?
“I know you wanted to have a bit more to drink but I feel much safer walking back with you. You can come back after,” She smiled softly and stepped toward me, her soft hand resting on my shoulder. She then leaned down, inching closer to me. Her lips grazed my ear, hot breath making my skin redden. “Please go along with it,” She pleaded.
“Ah, so you have a mate, huh?” The stout pirate laughed, taking a few hard steps towards the two of us. “That’s okay with me.”
Her soft eyes darted from me to the pirate and then back to me. She looked so enchanting when in distress.
“Hey.” I grabbed her wrist and squeezed it. “Yes, of course, darlin’. Come on.” I moved her arm and she backed up, standing straight. I dug through my pocket and tossed as much spare change I had onto the table then scooted up. My hand grabbed hers tightly, not wanting to let go. She looked at me, her eyes sparkling with confusion but I just led her down the aisle, my free hand wrapping around her shoulder. “You look lovely tonight, by the way. It slipped my mind whether I told you or not.”
“Oh, uh…” She looked down, her face growing as red as the nose on my face. “Thank you.”
“Yeah,” I whispered and as we approached the door, the pirate seemed to be cowering in fear as he finally recognized who had the honor of taking this lovely maiden home. And it was me.
“I-I’m sorry, sir, I—“
“Step aside,” I growled.
“Yes, s-sir, I’m sorry. Of course!” He was about to piss himself.
I faked a smile and as soon as he moved, I pushed the door open and allowed her and I to walk down the narrow wooden staircase and back onto the dock. To my disappointment, she pulled from my grip and grabbed the straps of her backpack, letting out a deep sigh as she folded over. “Jesus,” She whispered.
“Are you okay?” I asked, taking a step to approach her.
My hand rested on the small of her back and I smiled softly though the red paint extended it from cheek to cheek.
“Thank you for doing that.”
“Oh, uh?” My eyes furrowed. “It’s no problem.”
“You’re not gonna try to get in my pants, right?”
“N-No! No, no. No.” I lied with a reassuring smile.
“Okay, good,” She grinned. “Guys are so weird. I swear the ugly ones are the ones that are most obsessed with me. I attract the weird ones.”
I clenched my jaw. Ouch.
“I’m sorry if I interrupted you. You—“
“Don’t apologize. It’s okay,” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coats and I dragged my foot. “Are you gonna be okay?” I tried my best to act uninterested in her but my body was bouncing and I wanted nothing more than to throw myself onto her. She was divine when she was distressed.
“What’s your name?”
“Uhm,” I swallowed. “Buggy.”
“Oh, that’s new. I’ve never heard of that name before. Is it a stage name? To match your makeup?”
“Makeup?”
“You look like a clown. Is that your real nose?”
“Nose?” I grimaced and nodded my head. “Yes. Yes, it is real. Any other questions?”
“No, I’m sorry,” She smiled and let out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you again, honestly.”
“You need to start watching out for yourself. If I wasn’t there, you’d have been his next plaything,” I gagged at the thought.
“Why were you there?”
“Huh?”
“You look like a pirate. So what made you sit by yourself in a bar? Where’s your crew?”
All these questions. I smiled. I loved her curiosity.
“I was a pirate. Uh, taking a bit of a break.”
“What for?”
So I can follow you around and learn every single little thing there is to know about a beautiful goddess such as yourself. “Personal reasons,” I lied. I dipped my head down and traced my foot along the wooden planks, chewing on my inner cheek. “What’s your name?”
I knew it, I just wanted to hear her say it.
“It’s Y/N. I know, it’s not nearly as cool as yours.”
I laughed aloud, bursting into a fit of cackles and giggles. “What? You’re insane. Thanks for the flattery but try to find a souvenir keychain with a name like mine.” I wiped a fake tear.
The dimming sun finally disappeared past the ocean’s horizon, leaving Y/N and I surrounded by dimly lit lanterns and the settling sea crashing waves against the old dock. I stood still while she seemed to be trembling. It was rather cold. “Uh,” I started to slip my jacket off. “Do you need it?”
“No, no, I’m good. Thank you, though. I’m gonna start heading back now,” She announced as she looked over her shoulder, squinting. “It’s getting really late.”
“Yeah, uh, it is.”
“Well, Buggy, it was nice meeting you. I’d give you a hug but no offense, you reek of beer,” Y/N smiled.
“It’s whiskey,” I remarked.
“It’s all the same to me.” I know it is.
“Do you need me to walk you home?”
“No, I’m good. We’re still strangers and I don’t feel safe with someone I’m unfamiliar with knowing my address. No offense, though.” She said ‘no offense’ a lot. And I already knew her address. I even had access to the spare key she often left underneath a clothed doormat. “Thank you for the offer.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She nodded and smiled, showing her gorgeous teeth. Her cheeks were pink, dusted by the cool air. Her hair wafted off her shoulders as the breeze picked up. Her aroma caught my attention once again.
“Can you turn around? I don’t want you seeing where I’m going.”
She’s adorable.
“Yeah, alright.”
And so I did. I turned around, making her feel a bit more at ease. I swallowed, staring straight into the endless ocean ahead of me, listening to the sounds of her soft footsteps slowly disappear.
When I turned around, she was gone.
And so was the sweet smell of vanilla and coconut.
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emmasbrain · 1 month
Text
Releasing Tension
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Warnings: 18+ NSFW, fem!reader, p in v, blowjob, creampie, no use of protection (don’t be stupid, STDs are bad), idk let me know if there’s more
Synopsis: Spencer is tense and you stumble upon a way to ease his tension. (I don’t know how many times I wrote the word tense in this but it was too many)
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
He was always tense. Something about him never seemed to be able to relax, and although he seemed happy sitting up against the armrest of your shared couch, reading a heavy old book - that you couldn’t for the life of you figure the name of since it was printed in russian - you could see his body was slightly rigid, as though he felt he had to be wary. It had always been like that, you’d brought it up to him before and all he said was that “stress is a part of his nature” but that it “didn’t stop him from doing things he enjoyed”.
That seemed to be enough for him. It wasn’t for you, though. “Spence.” You murmured, facing him from the other end of the couch. He glanced up at you, humming his acknowledgement at his name and giving you a small smile. You loved the way even the teeniest of his smiles to you would reach his eyes, making the golden brown almost sparkle.
“Hey, is everything okay?” His soft voice broke you from your thoughts, and you nodded your head.
“Yea I’m fine, was just lookin at you.” He gave a shy smirk at that and tucked a piece of loose hair behind his ear.
“Is that all you wanted? To look at me?” The amusement in his voice was undeniable, and you gave a small shrug to feign nonchalance.
“Mostly just to look at you,” You lifted yourself up and draped yourself over his lap, curling up against him like a cat, “also because I could see how tense you were from the other side of the sofa, and it was agitating me.” You gave a sheepish smile, tucking your head into his chest and he sighed, looking at you as though you’d asked “are we there yet” for the twenty-third time in a half hour trip.
He set his book down on the coffee table and put a hand on your cheek. “I love you baby, you know I do, but you have to understand that I’m just like that. I’m fine, and I know you worry that I’m not okay but it’s just how my body works. It’s how I process stress; from the bau, and from anything else. But I’m okay, and I’m happy. I promise, sweet girl.” His voice was soft and you could hear the steady heartbeat in his chest as he rubbed soothing strokes against your cheekbone with his thumb.
“I love you more.” Is all you replied with, capturing his hand in yours and kissing his palm. You adjusted your position to sit up a little and kiss his cheek, his jaw, his lips. You gave him a peck, both smiling into it like lovesick fools, and resting your foreheads together as you pulled away. This time he leaned back in, connecting your lips, and it was longer, softer.
You moved on his lap again for better access to your kiss, and he sucked in a breath. “Stay still.” He barely got the words out before attaching his lips back onto yours, suddenly feeling much hotter than it was before. You lifted up and moved to straddle him, quickly merging your lips back together. When you fully sat down, Spencer's hips bucked up to meet yours and he let out a breathy groan, tucking his head in your neck and kissing the skin there.
His half hard dick pushed up into you as you sat on him, and the combination of feeling him against your now wet cunt and the way he sucked at the skin just between your neck and shoulder had you letting out a soft whimper. “Doc…”
His hips jumped when he heard you, and he moved his hands to grasp your hips, pushing you down as he rutted himself against your cunt. The wetness that had started to form was now soaking through your pants, the skirt you were wearing pushed up by his hands so he could glance down and see the mess you were making on his trousers.
“Fuck, please… so good baby, feels so good.” His grip on your hips tightened and he gasped into your shoulder, biting down slightly. He was close, and what kind of girlfriend would you be to let him cum in his trousers, when he could cum in your mouth instead?
You lifted yourself to stand, legs wobbly as you had been nearing your own orgasm along with him. He whimpered at the loss of contact, and tried to reach out for you to pull you back, but you just smiled. “Turn around, Doc. I want you facing me.”
Spencer and your’ relationship was normally fairly equal in dynamics. It was all about giving each other pleasure, and so by focusing on each other you both settled into a comfortable situation. If one of you were in the mood to take more control, you would. If you recognised that one of you needed something, you would give it. It was interchangeable, and that was what you enjoyed about it.
A few days before, Spencer had bent you over your kitchen table, fucking into you roughly and leaving marks on your body that you could still faintly see. Now you were giving him a peck on the lips and dropping to your knees, delicately pulling his trousers and boxers down his legs and watching his cock stand against his stomach.
He was very still, eyes wide in anticipation. It looked as though he was trying not to scare you away, and the thought amused you. As you reached to hold him, you raised your eyebrows, silently asking for permission, and he nodded profusely. That encouraged you to wrap your hand around his cock, which was dripping precum, and he hissed as you dragged your hand up and thumbed his head, spreading the precum down his shaft to make it easier to work him.
After you had stroked him a few times, you decided it was probably best to give him what he wanted, so you leaned in and licked from the bottom of his dick to the top, tonguing his slit. His hips involuntarily pushed up, and he leaned his head against the back of the sofa, letting out little breaths as he flexed his fingers against the couch to calm himself.
The sight of him was beautiful, eyes scrunched up, mouth hanging slightly open. You couldn’t help yourself, so you took his head into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, running your tongue over the sensitive underside of his head. He choked out a groan at the feeling and the noise went straight to your core, soaking your pants even more.
Your clit was throbbing but you refused to pay it any mind as you took him further into your mouth, bobbing your head and stroking what you couldn’t achieve. He was looking down at you now, and when you made eye contact you pushed yourself further down on his cock, making your eyes water.
“‘M not gonna last.. feels too good.” He breathed out, lacing his fingers through your hair and gripping it, but not making a move to control your actions. You moaned around him, mostly just to see his reaction, and you were pleasantly rewarded as he whined, whispering an amalgam of curses and your name.
A tear began to drip down your cheek from taking him so far into your throat, and he lifted the hand that wasn’t in your hair to hold your face and wipe away the tear. Even through the pleasure burning in both his gut and yours, he never failed to do little things that warmed your heart. It gave you the motivation to speed up your motions, bobbing your head faster. The room echoed with the obscene noises of your mouth around him and his little moans that let you know he was ready to cum.
With your free hand, you moved to cup his balls and lightly squeeze and he could barely let out a groan as his breath got caught in his throat.
“I.. I’m-“ He tried to warn you but it was too late, and hot ropes of cum shot into your mouth. His hips stuttered and his grip in your hair tightened, forcing you to groan around his cock as the last ropes of cum filled your mouth until it was dripping down your chin. You carefully suckled his head until he looked satiated, and then pulled away and made sure to look directly into his eyes as you swallowed the mouthful of cum and grinned.
His head dropped to the back of the couch and he grumbled out a “fuck me”, shaking his head and smiling at your display. “C’mere.” He beckoned, helping you to your feet until you re-straddled his lap, centimetres from his still-hard cock.
“Did you like it?” you asked, daring to look timid now, and his eyes widened in disbelief.
“Like it? Did I like it?” He let out a breath and shook his head, swiping his thumb over the cum on your chin, and before he could do anything you pulled his thumb into your mouth, lightly tonguing the pad of his finger. “You are so perfect.” He pulled his thumb from your mouth and replaced it with his lips. “So perfect. I loved it.” The taste of himself in his mouth felt unusual but mixed with the taste of you he couldn’t complain.
You placed your hands onto his shoulders, squeezing lightly. “Less tense. I’ll take it.” Your remark made him scoff, and he pulled you in for another kiss - to shut you up you presumed. You didn’t much mind though.
As he pulled away, his head dipped down to kiss just under your chin, and then continue his kisses down your neck. It was soft, showing his gratitude, but you couldn’t help the way your walls clenched at the action despite his intention. “Spence..” You warned - though not exactly sure what you were warning him about - but he understood nonetheless.
“Do you want something?” He teased, acting as though a minute ago he wasn’t moaning and mumbling nonsense as he came in your mouth. His little kisses never ceased, although now they were much less little.
“Please.” Your voice came out whiny and needy and the sound he made in response was almost pained.
“When you ask like that I can’t refuse you. I would do anything if you asked just like that.” He lifted his head to your face, hands pulling at either side of your head to crash his lips against yours, He was somehow soft and rough at the same time, making you unable to breath and unable to want to. “Do you want me inside you baby? Can I be inside you?” He was rushing his words between kisses but you heard them perfectly, and it shot straight to your aching clit.
You pulled away momentarily to question, “Can you go again?” You didn’t want to push him, but he seemed overly enthusiastic about fucking you.
“I need it so bad.” He was almost begging, even though he knew he didn’t have to. You needed this just as much as he did, the begging was just an added bonus.
“Fuck me, then.” You said pointedly.
“Fuck you?”
“Fuck me, Doctor Reid. If you don’t I think I’ll go insane.”
And at that he grinned and flipped you both over, now lying across the couch with Spencer between your legs. He made quick work of pulling your pants down and groaned when he saw the wetness glistening on your pussy lips. “So wet for me, sweet girl. I could never get over how wet you get for me.” He was barely audible, speaking more for himself than to you, and he leaned forward, grabbing his cock and giving himself a few short strokes.
When he was back to being fully hard, he pushed his tip between your lips and against your slit, collecting the wetness and dragging it up over your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but they soon flew open as he roughly pushed into you without warning, filling you until your pelvises pressed together. The broken cry that left your mouth had him rocking into you as he waited to be told he could move.
He was desperate to fuck into you but he needed your permission and it was driving him insane. His face was nuzzled into your neck and he was inhaling slowly, gripping onto your hips bruisingly to ground himself.
“Move.” You uttered the word and he immediately pulled out half way, slamming back into you like his life depended on it. He set a heavy pace and it wasn’t long until you were a moaning mess, grasping at his arms that were now steadying himself on your hip and next to your head.
“Feel so good baby, you’re so perfect. So perfect for me sweet girl.” The nickname sent a bolt through you and you clenched around him. “Ah fuck, you can’t do that to me baby I won’t last.” He warned, but that’s what you wanted, so you laced your fingers through his hair and synonymously pulled at his hair as you tightened around him. The shocked moan he let out sent waves down your spine and you could feel that familiar coil tightening in your gut.
“I need you to cum for me Doc. Cum inside me Spencer.” He couldn’t reply, only whimpering in response as his pace lost its rhythm, sharp thrusts combining with shallow ruts as he began to reach his peak. His hand on your hip trailed over and began to rub small circles on your clit as his hips began to spasm and he warned with small groans that he was close.
Your orgasm sweeped over your body and your thighs tightened around his waist as you whined, white flashing in your eyes as the pleasure overtook you. You gasped and came back down as Spencer stilled, cum spilling deep inside you as his body lightly shook with the pleasure. He stayed like that, hips pushed as far against you as they could go, head rested on your shoulder as he gasped in little breaths of air while he calmed.
When he felt he could move, he pulled out of you and collapsed on top of you, his cum beginning to drip from your spent hole but neither of you moved to clean yourselves up. You lay there for what could have been minutes or hours, not saying a word, until you broke the silence. “Definitely not tense now.” You whispered, and you both couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hey, I’ll admit to being tense all the time if it ends like that.” He mumbled against your skin, and you chuckled.
“We could always just do that anyway.” You replied, and he hummed in agreement.
He planted a soft kiss to your jaw, unable to lift his head much further, and moved his hand to hold your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. ���Thank you.” He spoke quietly against you.
“Always, Doc.” You turned to kiss his palm and fell back into comfortable silence, almost sure Spencer was falling asleep.
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courtingchaos · 1 year
Text
Mark Em’ Up
Warnings: Sexual content, NSFW, Minors GTFO
A/N: Listen, inspiration struck. Eddie’s got a good neck, we all wanna bite it, just admit it.
He’s just sitting there, stretched out on his couch like a gangly cat. Head resting on his fist, elbow propped on the arm of the couch and you standing still at the edge of the carpet. Between getting up to grab a drink and turning around the sun has shifted, the earth has turned, and Eddie has tilted his head a fraction more to the side and that pale expanse is a siren song.
You’ve kissed him there before, so many times in fact. Had a nibble or two sure, but this angle on this afternoon with this lighting and whatever you two were doing before is coalescing into a fervor. Never before have you felt the need to sink your teeth into him like the sweetest treat you’ve ever seen. Oh you know he’d love it too, would probably yelp and squeal a little while you grazed your teeth along that tendon. Ran your tongue up the rest of the way to his ear to give that a bite too. Really you want to set your lips from his collar to the nape of his neck, marking him up an down like a map of the Andes. Red and purple ridges like lay lines of your obsession with him.
Maybe it’s your heavy breathing or the fact that you’ve been hovering like a horny poltergeist for a second too long but Eddie turns to look at you.
“You okay?” He asks, frown forming on his face. The turn of his head creases that pillar of throat you’ve been eyeing and you huff. Setting your can down on the counter to free your hands up so you can snatch his collar when you get to the couch. Determination set in your features while Eddie tries to scramble away from you. “What the fu-uuck.” He strangles out when you snatch him, climbing over his bent knees to straddle his hip. He’s still sideways under you but that’s where you intend to keep him so you can get at his stupid neck taunting you. “If you wanted to fool around you just gotta say sooo-“ He pulls the syllables out when you descend, lips eager to suck at his skin, teeth aching to sink in softly and mark. Normally it’s him leaving you with little love bites. Some hidden, others left on the edge of your jaw or just along the collar of your shirt, a reminder for you and a notice for others, ‘hands off’. You’d refrained from leaving any on him, mostly because the urge never struck you like this before but also to save him from any ribbing he’d receive at the shop. Now though you’d gladly send him out into the world, baring your fine artwork up and down his throat. “Baby.” He whines (actually whines) and you can feel the vibration of his neediness along your lips. You’re still clutching his shirt in your hands, holding him in place under you but now he’s clutching your hands, fingers grasping at your fist, breath coming out in little gasps. You can’t get enough of this, laving your tongue up to his earlobe, biting down gently and pulling another little whimper out of him. His eyes are squeezed shut, teeth worrying at his bottom lip, little puffs of air from his nose making his hair dance around his face. You do exactly what you had intended to do and start behind his ear, lips stuck to the tender skin there, sucking it between your teeth to pull that color in. You don’t even lift up, just slide your mouth down leaving a wet trail of spit in your wake. Leaving him wet and purple and red under your lips. Your knee is tight against him and you can feel him getting hard against your thigh, can feel him trying to wriggle out (or maybe further) into your touch. You won’t deny him anything today, but you came over to this couch with a single motivation and you aren’t leaving until the job is done. He tastes clean and vaguely salty, the warmer weather making him sweat so soon out of his after work shower. You can smell his shampoo, the coconut one you bought him that he secretly really likes, and the lingering smoke from his cigarette. It closes in around you, swirls together with the homey smell of the trailer and you get lost in your work. Eddie is slowly going insane, whining and gripping your arm, his hands searching for something he can wind his fingers into. Your hair is pulled back in a clip, away from his fingers so he settles on bunching your shirt in his fist and trying to grind into your leg. He tries to say something and stutters when you bite down a little harder, rolling the skin between your teeth before soothing the burn with the flat of your tongue. You shush him anyways and move one hand off of his collar to grip his jaw and push it up slightly, shifting his face up and away. The line of hickeys trailing from his ear is varied, little burst of darker red where you’d gotten a little ahead of your self and sucked a little too hard.
“Honey please.” He begs (actually begs). You can feel him tense under you, can feel his jaw working where it’s cupped in your hand. You leave another line of marks to meet up with the first and finally detach yourself to look at your handiwork. Running a finger down that tendon makes it flex under your touch, his mouth falling open to gasp when you run your nail lightly over his skin. There’s too much space here, too much pale you want to mark up. It’d take you all afternoon, you’re sure of it, to get it as decorated as you like but you’ll take it for now. You lean down one last time to suck hard at the hollow of his throat, feeling the vibrations of him groaning against your mouth. With a wet pop you let him go and finally sit all the way up, wiping your face where you’ve smeared spit over your cheek.
He looks wrecked, red faced, neck flushed and marked. His chest rising and falling rapidly and his hands flex where they’re still wrapped around your forearm now resting on his stomach. He turns his head slightly to look up at you, eyes dark and heavy. You can see the shine of wetness on his neck where the sun catches it and you grin.
“What the fuck?” He’s breathless.
“Sorry, you just looked so tasty.” You sound so satisfied. Thighs still squeezing him tight you can feel how hard he is and you wonder just how he’ll exact his revenge. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll stay pliant and whiney, stay under you on this couch and let you leave a longer trail of marks down his chest. Down his stomach. Down his thighs.
He turns under you to face up, finally releases your arm to run his palm over his neck and makes a face when he feels the heat and the wet. “Oh you really went to town didn’t you?”
“Mhm.” Still satisfied but now you can plant your hands on his chest and hold him down, watch his eyes grow big and shining when he looks up at you in complete adoration. “I just wanted to make a little statement. Thought you’d wear it well.” You run your finger lightly against his throat, right over that last hickey you left. Under your palms his heart beats faster and you feel that swoop of warmth in your chest, reserved only for him. “If you want, I can leave a few more around.” You tilt your head and glance down his chest, his hands running up and down your thighs in anticipation.
He spends the afternoon becoming your own personal canvas and when he goes to work the next morning, coveralls tied around his waist it’s Jeff who notices first. Flicks the collar of Eddie’s t-shirt and gives him a shit eating grin.
“Did she at least by you dinner first?”
“I think I was dinner.”
(Sacrifice for the readmore)
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